Tumgik
#I felt like he wasn’t going to die but when things started going south my heart DROPPED
Text
Tumblr media
“I’m not letting him go”
:’)
1K notes · View notes
matthewloverr · 2 months
Text
The Book
part one | part two
matt x maysen drew (femreader)
summary: when watching the people you love destroy themselves and choose money and fame over you, you found someone else to love.
warnings: swearing, smoking, angst, mention of substance abuse/ addiction!
a/n: before you guys read i just want to say thank you to these writers for inspiring me to post this !!
@strniohoeee @lovingmattysposts @flowerxbunnie @hysteria-things @luvangelbreak
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
masyn’s pov
i loved matt, in a friend way like i would do anything to protect him like any good friend would do and i know he would do the same.
but for some reason whenever we’re together i can’t shake the feeling that maybe there’s something there, something that i’m missing.
i cared deeply for him, and maybe sometimes i thought i liked him in not a friend way but i never payed attention to it.
i was never shown love growing up, i never felt it from anyone especially my parents. i was never enough for them, they were social butterflies, celebrated people, notorious and renowned. at least that’s how the public viewed them.
my parents have been celebrities for as-long as i can remember, they both have a dark history and maybe that’s why they act the way they act.
in 2010 my mom released a self help book about addiction, it went viral.
that same year my dad decided to get his shit together and started investing his money in something other than gambling at the casino and started buying property, eventually he owned half the south side and is being a real ”fixer upper”.
my childhood was very “colourful”, i never knew much about my parents until i got older and i could start noticing things. one thing i noticed is they thought having a kid meant more money.
at first i loved the paparazzi, the interviews, the red carpet events, i felt like a true princess, like i was finally getting the attention i had longed for.
but when i turned fifteen I realized it wasn’t what I wanted at all, i went to this fancy private school where i would get picked on because “the only reason i have money is because my parents were junkies”
I hated that place so much, i got myself expelled by throwing a textbook at a teachers head, my parents paid them to keep it private so it didn’t “ruin their reputation”.
when i started refusing to go to events with my parents they just gave up on me and left me alone. i. fucking. loved. it, it was so freeing to do whatever the fuck I wanted without a camera in my face.
of course I missed my parent’s attention when they would be proud of me for going to events but if i had to broadcast myself and go through hell in my day to day life, i was fine with it just being me.
around a year ago when i was 17 my parents went to some fancy influencer party and somehow convinced me to go, they put me in a long black strapless dress with a big slit on the leg, i kept my hair straight because i loved showing off my natural long red hair people always told me they would die for natural hair like it.
the party was so fucking boring, the only intresting thing was watching people get wasted and me getting wasted myself.
“aren’t you too young to be drinking?”
i turned around to see a tall boy that looked around my age, he was wearing a white button up with navy blue dress pants and a matching tie and his hair was all ruffled up.
“how else will i get through tonight” i scoffed turning back to facing straight
he leaned up against the counter next to me and just stared down at me, i could feel his bright blue eyes beaming down on me but I chose to ignore it.
“i take it you’re not a social person” he blurted out.
“nope” i replied not turning to look at him.
“good, neither am i”
I looked up at him with a confused look.
“is that why you’re talking to a girl you don’t know ?” i said with a sense of sarcasm.
he just rolled his eyes with a smile.
“soo what are you here for?” i said turning my whole body towards him leaning my side up against the counter.
“me and my two brothers were invited, they’re the social people” he said with a slight smirk.
“what about yourself?”
to be honest i didn’t know why i was here, my parents wanted nothing to do with me until they got fame. which it was all bullshit by the way my mother was dancing in the corner with a red solo cup telling everyone she was drinking water, that water was pure vodka and my father was coincidentally no where to be found.
i took a deep breath as i pointed with my hand that was holding my cup with some alcohol concoction i found at the bar, i pointed straight at my mother who was practically getting naked on the dance floor
“stasia drew” i said deadpanning to my mother.
i watched from the corner of my eye as he leaned up squinting his eyes trying to get a better look as to where i was pointing, that’s when he finally found her and a slight smirk appeared on his lips.
“what are you doing here with her? And what is she doing here she looks loaded” he said with that same smile.
“that would be my mother” i said still staring her down.
“oh i’m sorry- i didn’t mean-“
i chucked at his sudden nervousness “it’s okay, you ever hear of the book the urge”
“yeah, i heard it’s really dark though so i try to avoid it”
“my mother wrote that book, don’t read it ever it’s just a bunch of bullshit” i felt myself tense up trying to not get angry, i knew he noticed it but we just kind of sat there staring.
“wanna go outside for a smoke?” he jumped up
“yes please”
he reached his hand out and i grabbed it and we snaked through the huge crowed of sweaty old rich people until we finally reached a back door.
he grabbed the box of marlboros from his pocket and placed one between his lips as he lit it up using one hand to block the wind. he took a long drag as he took it out and passed it to me.
i grabbed it and took and slowly inhaled, i smoke weed every now and then with friends but never cigarettes I mean who the hell still smokes cigarettes.
“cigarettes huh? so old fashioned” i said holding the smoke in.
“i’ve been smoking since i was like 10, never got around to quitting. plus those fruity ass vapes are disgusting” he replied with a small chuckle
i just smiled taking another hit before passing it back to him.
“does the public know u smoke?” i said blowing the smoke towards the ground.
“nah, it’s just something i do for myself when i get too overwhelmed”
“you’re telling me you don’t like all this? all the attention from millions of people, the fame, the money anything??”
“i love it but there’s also sides to me i like to keep private, some people just don’t respect that. And I should be asking you the same thing, your mother wrote an amazing book that half the world is going crazy for”
I paused for a moment staring down at my feet, they were numb from these heels I had been wearing all night but it didn’t matter. why didn’t i like any of it? i had always wanted my parents attention and i could get it from millions but instead i choose to freeze up in front of people and hide away.
i turned my head up to face him and gave a small smile.
“i’d handle fame better if i was actually proud of the reason, whenever i do come to these parties which is very rare my parents get all this praise and I have to pretend like it’s not all a lie. that book saved peoples lives except the one person who should’ve been saved, my mother”
i stopped realizing i had been rambling on but no one ever asked me, no one actually listened all they did was say how “lucky” i am and talk about my mom or my dad. it was nice talking to someone and just being me not my parents daughter or that famous authors daughter.
that was the night i met matthew and after that night we were inseparable, like two peas in a pod.
eventually him and his brothers invited me onto their podcast one day and i did talk about the book, i didn’t reveal anything about how my mom was still a drunk and still uses any substance she can get her hands on or how my dad uses all the money to gamble but instead i just kind of talked about how i grew up in the public eye and how i cope with it and it was kind of nice.
he made me feel more comfortable being out there like that and even helped me grow closer with my mother when we turned 18.
my dad walked out on us and my mom didn’t handle it well, she drank a lot but i was glad he was gone.
me and matt spent a lot of time together and sometimes i would think he’s flirting, but i just convinced myself it was just how close we were, i didn’t want to ruin it.
matt ended up getting his license and drove me and his brothers everywhere, like my little chauffeur that didn’t expect anything back.
“Yo, do you wanna go for a drive and smoke?”
“Yeah sure just let me ask mom”
“😹😹 funny joke”
“lol see you in 10”
i always caught myself smiling whenever i saw his name on my phone, i just assumed it was pure joy because i had such a wonderful friend by my side.
he texted me that he was here and out i went.
a/n: my first story !! im so very nervy, im very open to suggestions and ideas so dont hold back🤍
38 notes · View notes
quietlyimplode · 6 months
Text
the language of flowers and silent things
Whumptober 2023: Day 19 - A floral bouquet
Warnings: child abuse, nightmares
Word Count: 1.7k (gif not mine)
Summary: after Clint proposes, they both need time to recover and recuperate.
Tumblr media
A/N: this is completely unread, forgive the mistakes bound to be embedded. I don’t have the energy to read it though.
Masterlist
Whumptober Masterlist
.
2011
IOWA
Recovery time is granted as a courtesy and requirement. It sets Natasha’s teeth on edge but even she can see that Clint needs it.
She wants the next assignment, the almost dying part not really phasing her. She’d almost died many times before.
If she was a cat, she would have used her nine lives by now. It doesn’t mean the panic for Clint doesn’t permeate into her dreams.
She dreams that she can’t breathe, and wakes up gasping, when she gets back to sleep, she watches Clint gasping for breath.
She performs CPR only to break his ribs and watch him die anyway.
It’s disconcerting and always results in her focusing on him sleeping into the hours of the morning.
He comments that she looks tired, but she always retorts that he does too.
.
There’s a cabin south of Iowa, he invites her to, she knew he had it but they’d never been able to go.
The dainty log cabin smells musty when they arrive, but as soon as it’s aired out, Natasha takes in all the details.
Surrounded by trees, the cabin is four rooms, a kitchen and main room all together, a bedroom and a bathroom.
There’s wood everywhere; bow and arrows on the walls, and a shot gun for good measure. He watches her surveil the place and stands in place, waiting for her assessment.
“Whatddya think?” he smiles.
“Did you make these arrows?” she asks in awe, touching them and continuing to look around.
“Yeah,” he nods, “the bow too.”
The wood fire sits inert and Clint promises to light it at night.
“Come for a walk,” he offers, taking her hand and leading to her to the door, “the weather is good and we can gather some wood.”
Natasha smiles and grabs her jacket as they head out.
The lake surrounds, birds chirping and flowers line the path they take.
It’s renewing in a way she’s never felt before; maybe that the air feels fresher than in the city, and whilst since they’d been released from hospital, breathing had been a little more labored, it feels like it can loosen off.
“Pick some flowers,” Clint prompts, “I’m going to get some twigs and kindling.”
It feels like an odd request, but Natasha follows it, starting with small flowers, pink ones that have tiny petals, she then finds some white ones, cutting them cleanly with her switchblade. She moves away from Clint and finds other flowers, longer ones that look like bells, the purple blending with the others as she traverses around the lake.
The yellow flowers spread everywhere, and she chooses them more selectively. Large petals, and smaller cone shaped ones.
As she heads back up the incline, Clint calls for her to come over.
“This one too?”
The delicate blue wildflowers were small, easy to pick and went well with the bunch that Natasha had picked
“They were my mums favourites,” she smiles.
She holds the bunch up for his approval and he smiles.
“Perfect,” he tells her.
They walk back, conversation easy, light gossip and commenting on the world around.
“Do you think it will storm tonight?” Natasha asks.
Clint shrugs, opening the door and allowing Natasha to enter first.
“Maybe, depends if the temperature drops, then you’re in for a chance.”
They both go about unpacking some food and Natasha starts cooking and cutting vegetables.
He sets about lighting the fire then puts her flowers in water and smiles as he places the forget me nots to the front.
“Tell me about her,” Natasha asks, “your mother? What was she like?”
There’s a beat of silence before Clint acquiesces.
“She loved nature. I think we would have got an animal if it wasn’t for him. I think she knew that if we did it would become another thing for him to destroy or use against us, but she made it up in other ways.”
He moves to the kitchen to help her, grabbing a carrot and chewing on it.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t —“
He waves her off.
“Nah, I want to, otherwise she just lives in my memories, and I’d like her to live in yours too,” he smiles, crunching down.
“She had brown hair, maybe a bit shorter than you, smart but in a clever way. Not book smart I think, as she struggled to read, but the way she could deduce and read people was easy. It always made me wonder how she ended up with my father.”
Natasha turns the portable gas heater on, and passes him the chicken for cooking.
“Did she like to cook?”
Clint laughs.
“No, not at all, we would eat the same thing over and over, meat and vegetables, or potatoes; there were lots of potatoes.”
He takes onions and places them in the pan.
“Barney liked to cook,” he says a bit more softly, “he’d take over from my mother when my father wasn’t home. He loved making sauces and mixing flavours.”
The sizzle on the chicken is loud and so the next words feel more for him than anything else.
“He found Barney once, cooking with my mother looking on, yelled and ranted that it was women’s work. He threw the hot saucepan at him and burnt him across the arm, here,” he says gesturing to his forearm.
“Barney still liked to cook, but was just more careful about how he did it after that.”
Natasha stands next to him.
“I’m sorry,” she tells him.
“It’s okay, I was telling you about her, not him.”
Clint puts the next piece of chicken on the small fryer.
“She liked stories, any stories. So I’d tell her them from school, also, Gus; he had the best stories, so I’d tell her them too. I think she liked to think about them, maybe they helped in some way.”
Natasha takes over the fryer, motioning to the cooked meat for cutting.
“She could be forgetful, and told me things usually more than once, but I didn’t mind. She had the kind of voice that when she spoke you’d listen regardless of what she was saying.”
He stops cutting and thinks.
“I think she would have liked you,” he says generously.
Natasha looks to the pretty little flowers.
“Yeah. I think I would have liked her too.”
.
The distinct smell of the wood fire brings Clint out of his nightmare. The disorientation makes him freeze on the spot dampening his breathing so that he doesn’t wake Natasha.
He ruminates on the images the dream produced, the dodging of beer bottles before one caught him, the way he was small and his father was big, and his mothers face, blood coming out of her mouth and the familiar bruise covering her cheek and throat.
He sorts the images and finds the truth in the lies, then separates it further, smelling and grounding himself with Natasha’s gentle breathing and the smell of the fires.
He’d hoped talking about her would be cathartic, and in a way it was. He’d just not anticipated the memories it produced.
He sighs wanting to get up but knowing it would wake Natasha.
If they get married, he’s not going to become like him. He’s not his fathers son, he is his mother’s though.
He pulls out his phone and googles how far it is to visit her and settles back down with a plan for the next day.
.
The grave reads Edith’s name, the date of her birth and death and words that read ‘beloved mother’.
The fact that she has a headstone at all is something Natasha can’t help but comment on.
“The circus helped us pay for it, it came about a year and a half after her death, maybe 6 months we’d both been there. We agreed to work for free to get it done.”
Gently, Natasha moves the moss and Clint pulls the weeds around it.
It takes them some time but they clear it and make it neat in its appearance.
Natasha pulls the little bouquet of forget me nots she’d picked and places them down.
Clint hugs her and they stand side by side in silence.
.
The ride home is comfortable, soft country music playing as Clint taps his finger to the beat.
“Do you think my mother has a grave?” Natasha asks, a question she’s never thought to think.
Clint reaches across and holds her hand.
“I hope so,” he says, squeezing it.
“Maybe she had a sister or someone to lay some flowers at her grave too,” she hopes.
Clint nods.
“Maybe she’s hanging out with my mother, wherever they may be.”
Natasha smiles, then laughs.
“They’d tell lots of stories to each other I think,” she says.
“My mother would like that,” he nods.
“Are you okay?” Natasha asks, squeezing his hand.
“I know you had… dreams last night, but do you think this will make sleep hard as well? Can I do anything?”
Clint shrugs.
“I don’t know. Maybe? Nothing you can do, but maybe we can play a game or watch a movie together before sleeping.”
He sighs.
“It’s been a long day.”
Natasha nods, opening the window then closing it with the smell.
It breaks the mood and he laughs.
“Cows are certainly an acquired smell,” he grins.
.
“She liked magic too,” Clint offers, the movie finishing.
“Can I show you some?”
Natasha feels a curl of excitement.
Giving him her full attention, he produces a bunch of flowers.
It makes her burst out laughing.
“Can you do it again?”
He pulls a coin from her ear and then makes the flowers disappear again.
She takes the coin and rolls it over her fingers.
Clint nods in approval.
He smiles again.
“One more.”
From her ear, he produces two rings.
“I know we were dying, and that you may have just said yes—“
She doesn’t even let him finish.
“I want to marry you Clint Barton,” she tells him, taking the rings off him and examining them carefully.
Both of them thin, one with a red ruby and the other larger in size but just as thin, the metal infused with a purple hue.
“They’re for us, like your necklace, no one has to see them.”
He loves that she puts it on straight away, kisses him again and then tries to imitate the magic trick.
“Teach me,” she requests, “show me how to do magic just like you do.”
.
47 notes · View notes
Text
When It’s Cold, I’d Like To Die 🌨 | TGM Imagine- Apocalypse AU
Set in an alternate world during a zombie apocalypse
Tumblr media Tumblr media
TGM masterlist
Characters & Pairings: female!reader x Dagger Squad (platonic), slight Bradley Bradshaw x female!reader (implied romance), sister!oc x female reader (platonic/sisters)
Content Warnings: MAJOR angst & MAJOR character death (read at your own risk). Profanity. Emotional, sad, light fluff at the end (sorta a happy ending), apocalypse!au, light spoilers for TLOU (one scene is loosely inspired by one from Ep.2) | female!reader (she/her) wc: 7.5k
Premise: 2019 was the last year humanity could laugh and have fun without a care in the world. Then in November the world was turned upside down when a deadly virus swept though causing humans to turn into beings they only saw in movies. Seven years after the outbreak, the Top Gun special detachment have remained a team, but in the way they predicted obviously. They’ve survived things no training from the Navy could’ve prepared them for. Now years later, they’ve wondered to Seattle with hopes of returning to California by down….but for a couple of them, it’s their last stop.
Note: I’m sorry. Again. - Bee 🐝
———————————————
Date: 30 November 2026 –7 Years, 0 Months, and 20 Days since the outbreak
It’s been 12 hours. Another 12 and my brain will be consumed by the virus making me one of the things I’ve spent years fighting. No one knows. Everything happened so fast after the ambush that I rushed to get my gloves on before anyone could notice the bite mark just below my thumb. The veins have already started to appear, my muscles aching with light spasms I try to hide when no one is looking. So far they’ve only reached my elbow…but once they reach my neck It’s rapid from there. Then the foam will leave my mouth, my pupils will dilate to the point you can barely make out the white. I guess I should start figuring out what to do before I either lose my mind or end things before it gets worse.
I fear Maverick is onto me, but maybe he fears I’m onto him. His behavior has changed just as mine, becoming drawn away from the rest as we set sights on heading south for the winter. When he thinks I’m not looking I catch him fidgeting with his pant leg. Like he’s trying to make sure it’s covering his skin…..Maybe I wasn’t the only one to be bitten—not sure if I should find comfort at the fact I may not have to go through this alone, or just as hopeless with the fact it’s Mav. Once the others discover our my secret I’m scared they’re gonna lose faith. We’re so close to the rumored safe haven—so so close that we could get there by the end of the week…..but it looks like they're gonna have to continue without me.
We’ve been together as a team for seven years—before the outbreak even happened. I still remember the smell of the ocean and the feel of the felt on the pool table against my fingertips. The taste of draft beer that I once hated almost seems nostalgic since I haven’t had it in years. I can still hear the laughter from Bradley and Javy when Jake tried chatting up a pretty blonde who turned out to be married to an admiral. I wonder what happened to her….did she survive that night? Did she last a week? A year? Is she out there now wondering about the country like us?
With my eyes closed I can still picture the news coverage. The initial confusion filling my veins followed by a rush of anxiety that what I was witnessing was real. Then the panic erupting from everyone in the bar. Some rushed out immediately, likely rushing to get to their families. All of us who stayed did our best to board up the windows and doors with whatever we could find. Those of us with weapons in our cars were all so nervous about using them for the first time. Poor Bob didn’t know how to handle his gun and Mav being the saint he is, helped Bob when chaos was happening around them. Just picturing myself that night…shooting a person that didn’t even look human trying to break through the barrier. The revolver in my hand shook by how horrified I was and when I looked at Nat she mirrored my expression. I forgot what happened to my little revolver…it lasted me a good six months into the outbreak before we snuck on base and stole everything we could.
It’s crazy how everything changed in the blink of an eye. One second we’re all celebrating the success of an impossible mission, the Navy’s best fighter pilots. The next…we’re fighting for our lives in a war we only saw in movies. For the first year as humanity attempted to adapt to the new reality, we all traveled across different areas of the country to find our families. Radio and communications were lost early, with the only relying source was to go to our homes and see if they were there. Unfortunately, we never found most of the team’s loved ones. And those we did were already turned or on the brink of. I’ll never forget Javy’s face having to put his parents out of their misery. Same with Nat to her siblings. The only people we found who were healthy and joined our expedition were Bob’s cousin, Mickey’s brothers, and my sister, Jamie. While there was joy finding them, it came with heartbreak.
We lost Omaha first, then Harvard and Yale in one night. Fritz was shortly after marking one year of the outbreak when we thought a building was clear and turned out a stray was lurking underground. Every now and then I’m surprised Rooster and Hangman haven’t killed each other. In the beginning they were always butting heads on what to do, with a knife being pulled out one time that ended with Mav threatening to send them on their own if they couldn’t get their act together.
I’m still mad about losing Hondo, Halo, Penny, and Amelia—It wasn’t even one of the bastards who got them, the damn war between the army and these militia groups has taken more lives nowadays than the virus. The large cities are where most of it happens—and unfortunately we happened to be passing Vegas during turmoil. The conflict arose in the months after the outbreak. It’s understandable really—everyone was pissed that the government failed to prepare after it was revealed they had knowledge that a possible deadly virus would be on the loose. But it’s gotten out of hand. Too out of hand.
I know Mav hasn’t been the same since Penny died. Maybe that’s why he’s not looking too panicked at the idea he could be reuniting with her by the end of the day.
Nothing good came out of that night besides stealing military armored vehicles. That’s made traveling from coast to coast easier with the new jobs we’ve taken up. Fightertown, the once home of Top Gun, is now our base of operations. We’re currently in Seattle with the plan to leave for California tonight, but I won’t be making that drive. Not when I’m already feeling the changes in my psychological well being shift. Jaime is now 16 and I want nothing more than for her to survive this damn apocalypse—to go on and actually live the life she deserves. Not waking up every morning with the fear it would be her last. She’s been traumatized enough with everything she’s seen and I know it’s going to be difficult for her without me. But she’s the strongest girl I’ve ever met. She can survive this all. And I know the squad will take care of her. They’ll keep her safe until their final breath.
That last mission I’ll keep close to me even after I’m gone. They’re my family—my only family I’ve known for the last seven years. We’ve survived so much together. And I pray that whoever stands above all will keep them safe from here on out. Maybe one day they’ll see the world how it once was. That’s my last wish for them.
To find peace.
6 Hours later
Twirling the match box in her hand, Lt. Y/n ‘Pepper’ L/n, relished in watching the sun make its descent on her final day of life. The colors were beautiful, painting the sky an array of pinks and oranges. Sunsets in the Pacific Northwest were always beautiful. She was glad she got to witness another one last time.
She was sitting on the steps of a courthouse, the others inside behind her going over plans or packing the vehicles. Jaime was tossing a ball she found with Mickey’s brothers, giggling when it accidentally hit one of them in the head. Trying to remain composed, she closed her eyes and breathed in the air. It almost felt fresh and clean. Not the polluted with lingering decomposition of human flesh scent she was accustomed to.
No. Tonight it was nice. Actually comforting with the cool breeze of the wind.
“Twenty minutes we’re out,” Jake called from the doorway. “Pep, we need ya in her’.”
“Alright,” she signed, pulling herself up and putting the match box in her jacket pocket. Making sure the clothing was zipped all the way, Pepper cranked her neck to make it look like she was stretching, all while fighting the urge to twitch. Adjusting her gloves next she grabbed the canteen of water off the step and moved inside where the team were holding up. The teenagers behind her raced in after, only to receive some looks when they made a lot of noise.
When scouting the area for refuge the squad checked the surrounding proximity for any undead. Big cities were hives for them, and one loud noise such as an explosion or a simple blast of a shotgun could trigger a mob. Since they started their cargo transport ‘business’ they’ve mastered avoiding the undead when traveling to populated cities.
A moment passes, everyone glancing around for the sounds of disturbance. When nothing happened they visibly relaxed and signaled it was okay to talk.
“Sorry,” Ray, the oldest of Mickey’s two brothers, mumbled.
“It’s okay, buddy,” he told him, “Just remember to be careful next time. Okay?” The teen nodded, moving to sit next to Sammy, and Bob’s cousin Allison.
“What’s it looking like?” Nat was the first to ask, Bob coming to stand in front of the table with the large map displayed.
“The gas we have in the trucks will last us till the Oregon-California border. Portland is four hours from here, and then it’ll likely be another four or so to the border if we don’t run into any trouble. We’re gonna have to stop to refill the takes and then we can either decide to haul it to Sacramento— where I’ve already notified the base camp there we’re planning to stop so they’re getting stuff ready for us—or we can try to find a place at the border to rest.”
“I say we go to the base,” Javy said, rummaging through his pack for a snack. “I wouldn’t trust the border—could be scavengers hiding out for passerbyers.”
“Yeah, but Sacramento’s being hit with conflict,” Payback pointed out with a tired sigh.
“But if we haul for the long run tonight then it should die down by morning. You know how it is…It’s at night these things usually happen.”
“Both of you are right,” Rooster steps in, frowning down at the map with his arms crossed. “We stop at the border we could be ambushed, but if we go to Sacramento we’ll walk right into a war.”
None noticed how quiet Y/n was, fidgeting with her thumbs as they discussed. There was no need for her to give input. Not when she was gonna be likely dead within the hour.
“Well we need to decide,” Nat says sternly, the exhaustion evident in her tone. “I want us to be out of here in fifteen minutes—so either we vote, you two rock, paper, scissors it or we flip a coin.” Rooster almost considers it but then turns to the oldest member of their squadron.
“What do you think, Mav?”
The former pilot blinked several times, not realizing his name had been said and quickly recovered. Pepper’s anxiety rose…he was showing signs. “I-I yeah..I think you-we, we should go to Sacramento.”
‘Fuck,’ Y/n dropped her head in silent thought.
The others didn’t seem to notice the slip up and continued on. “Well that settles it,” Jake clapped his hands, “Let’s finish packin’ up and get the hell outta her’.” There was distress expressed by those who were worried about what lay ahead in Sacramento. For Y/n, her heart was racing by what she needed to do next.
“Jaime,” she called her sister over softly, the teen coming to stop in front of her. “How are you doing tonight?”
“Fine,” she drawled with a shrug. “Not looking forward to being cooped up in a van for the next eight plus hours…but I plan to sleep the entire time.”
“Good,” Y/n brushed some hair behind Jaime’s ear, letting her gloved hand softly liner against her cheek. It was shaking lightly, but Y/n managed to not let her sister notice. “Me too. That sounds like a good plan. I uh—,” she reached into her pants pocket, removing a small booklet. “I’ve been hanging onto this for a while and I thought you should have it. Maybe you can keep it safe since I almost lost it when we were in Denver.”
Jaime took the booklet, examining it. “What is it?”
“Open it and find out.”
Doing so, Jaime felt tears spring in her eyes when the booklet revealed Polaroid photos of not just the team from the past years, but ones of her and Y/n’s family. “W-where did you get this?”
“When we found you back at the house and after I….I won’t say,” she was referring to having to shoot their parents and brother who had turned. Jaime was hiding in the attic when they found her, malnourished and living off of rice cakes and water. “But I went through the house to find things that were sentimental. And well, I made sure to grab photos so we could always remember what they looked like.” Y/n felt a bile of emotion in her throat, swallowing it down. “It’s yours now. Take care of it.”
Jaime closes the book and wraps the thread around it to keep it together. Then her arms go around Y/n’s waist, causing her to stumble a bit, but hold her sister nonetheless. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ll keep it safe. I promise.”
The booklet was the last piece Y/n had of their family. All it contained were the photographs. Keeping their memory alive as a happy one rather than the painful last image of having to execute them to put them out of their misery. Only a few times a year Y/n would flip through the photos, and read over the handwritten notes of her mother and father she found. Now it was time to pass them to Jaime. So she could have them and also remember Y/n.
Pulling away from the hug, Y/n places her hands on Jaime’s shoulders and looks deep into her eyes. “Promise me something, kiddo.” The teen gave a short nod and Y/n took a sharp breath. “Promise me that whatever happens to me, you’ll always fight. You’ll move forward and continue to survive. Promise that you won’t give up no matter what happens okay?” Jaime appeared taken aback by the request, not liking the idea she may have to one day continue without her sister. “Promise, kiddo. I need to hear you say it.”
“Why are you asking me this now, Y/n?”
“Because It would bring me peace knowing you are going to be okay,” Y/n offers a small smile. “I want reassurance you would never give up just because I’m not there. You’re stronger than that. And I need you to promise me you will be.”
Eyes still watery, Jaime sniffs and gives her sister a nod, “I promise I’ll try.”
“That’s all I can, kiddo. For you to try,” she brings her into another hug, feeling eyes on her and looks up to see Maverick with a sympathetic expression.
He knows.
“It’s you and me against the world, right?” Y/n holds her close, resting her head on top of Jaime’s, who then repeats, “You and me against the world.”
“Go wait in the van with the others while we finish up here,” before sending her off, Y/n places a comforting kiss on Jaime's head with the soft whisper of ‘I love you.’ The teenager wanted to question her sister’s behavior, but followed the order anyway despite the feeling in her gut starting to form.
Once Jaime, Sammy, Ray, and Allison were outside, leaving just the squad, Y/n’s voice echoed against the silence, “I can’t go with you.” Everyone stopped what they were doing, Maverick off to the side with his hands on his hips and all of them waiting for the former pilot to say she was joking. Holding her hands together, she keeps her gaze on the floor.
Jake scoffed, “Now’s not the time to joke, Pep. We’re leaving in five—.”
“I’m not going,” she snaps, “I can’t go.” Her arm twitches, catching the attention of Rooster, who unconsciously takes a step forward causing her to move back. “Don’t get close to me, please,” she falls to a whisper, letting her eyes drift up to find the mixed reactions from her friends. Some were ashen—already understanding what she was trying to say while a couple appeared confused, not yet catching on.
“Y/n…” Nat’s tone becomes strained. Not wanting to accept the possibility.
“I’m sorry,” she looks at each of them, but Jake just shakes his head and demands, “Show us.” Removing the gloves first, Y/n’s hand trembles as she reaches up to unzip her jacket, shrugging it off her body to reveal the veins taking up the entire right side of her body. Her tank top showed where it was heading. They crept just halfway up her neck, meaning she was far into the infection that she only had a few hours before she fully succumbed.
“Fucking hell,” Jake turned away as Mickey and Bob immediately went distraught. Rooster and Nat simply remained frozen.
“When did this happen, Pepper?” Payback gently asked, trying to contain his reaction. All of them were already feeling the impending loss, and were all thinking the same thing: Who’s gonna be the one to do it?
“Eighteen hours ago…”
“During that ambush at the Hospital?” Javy was next to question her.
“Yeah,” she sadly replied, moving her hand a bit to show the bite. “Fucker that tackled me from the side got me as I was knifing him.”
“And you kept it from us?” Jake shouted, anger in his eyes. Y/n remained calm, knowing his reaction was justified. “This whole time you knew you were infected. And you didn’t say a word until now. Why?”
She tilted her head like it was obvious, “what the hell was I supposed to do, Jake? What would have you done? Shoot me right there?” She saw him still, making her scoff, “Forgive me for wanting a few more hours of peace with you guys and my sister before I end things.” Now that had everyone, minus Mav, eyes to go wide. Again she scoffed, “You really think I was gonna let it consume me? Or put one of y’all in the position to kill me? No,” she shakes her head, “no, I wanted you guys to be off to California before that happened. Honestly I would’ve just left hours ago with no word to spare you all, but…you probably would’ve searched for me.”
Some had to look away at that. She was right, they would have come looking for her. Even if they feared she had turned they’d at least want closure instead of wondering what happened.
“Seven years though,” she tried to laugh. “Not bad when you think about it. Would’ve hoped to make it to ten but life surprises you in mysterious ways. Now I’ll just have to root for Y’all on the side lines. I’ll kinda be pissed though if they somehow find a cure within the next month.”
No one knew how to respond. Quite frankly they didn’t want to. They were all dealing with having to adjust without Y/n going forward. Some didn’t want to accept it.
“Pep, we can try to figure something out—,” Nat tries to say, but Y/n spins to face her.
“What? figure out what, Nat?” She gestures to her arm. “I’m too far gone, okay? I have less than six hours at most—I won’t make it to Sacramento. And even if I were to….they’ll shoot me the second they see me. I’m not letting Jaime see that.” Y/n faces Rooster with a desperate look, tears threatening her eyes. “She doesn’t know,” she could see the heartbreak in his gaze.
Over the years Rooster and Pepper had grown close. At first it was just solely due to the connection they formed in the Navy which grew more at Top Gun. But when the end of the world is happening and there’s not many people in your life….things tend to happen.
They never put a label on it. At no point referring to the other as their ‘partner/significant other,’ but at night they’d bunk together. Rode in the same trucks. Had each other’s six. Sometimes they’d get involved in more intimate scenarios….. Maybe one can call it love, but they had a deep respect and admiration for each other.
“Take care of her for me,” she tells him. “Promise me you will.”
Rooster doesn’t hesitate, “I will.” Y/n swallows, nodding with thanks before adding, “She may fight you when she realizes you’re leaving without me. Sedate if you have to. Keep her from trying to come back.”
They had just gone to an abandoned hospital to retrieve supplies. It was where Y/n, and possibly Mav, got bit. In their search they got plenty of medical equipment including sedatives.
“I’ll do it,” Nat says, bringing a hand up to wipe her eyes. There were tears already escaping. The woman goes over to one of the backpacks and pulls out a bottle with a syringe to prepare it just in case she had to use it. Her hands were shaking, and before she knew it Mav was crouching beside her to take the syringe and do it himself.
“Here,” he hands it back to her, now full of the liquid. She thanks him softly before placing it in her jacket pocket.
At that moment an ugly screech fills the space, many reaching for their weapons in time to light up the undead that wandered in. Another one followed, and lastly a third, all dropping to the ground with bullets filling them. The rapid fire of the sound had Ray come rushing in to which Mickey yelled, “get back to the truck now!” They could hear faint noise in the distance, coming from the direction the three had run in from.
“There’s gonna be more. They must’ve snuck in from the sewers and came through the back,” Payback said in a rush, scanning for any more that could be lurking. “We gotta go.”
“But—,” Bob raised a hand to Y/n, who cut him off by saying, “I can hold them off. Buy you some time,” she paused a bit, looking at her shotgun and then said, “Leave the diesel.” She was referring to the large containers of diesel gasoline that had been on the streets. They didn’t know what to do with them since none of their vehicles took that type of gas. Y/n saw them and instantly thought of a plan.
“What the fuck are you on about?” Jake asked when she started to cut into the containers to let the liquid leak onto the floor.
“I’m gonna drown them in diesel,” she says sarcastically, making him glare. “I’m gonna fucking blow the place up, Jake. Do you want to sit and watch or are you gonna get your ass in that truck and make it tomorrow?”
He doesn’t answer, instead he marches up to her and pulls her into a near bone breaking hug. “I’m gonna miss you, Pep. You’re the best fucking wingman I could’ve asked for.”
Y/n’s lip quivered, hugging him back. “Don’t get sentimental on me now, Seresin,” she attempted to joke. “We both know you’ve been wanting to get rid of me for a while.” She feels him shake his head, though he chuckles.
“Never. You’ve been the glue of this team. I don’t know how we’ll get through this hell without ya, but we’ll try.”
“Thank you,” she pulls away, seeing a stray tear fall from his eyes. “Take care of each other.” He squeezes her shoulder that’s not covered in veins, patting it before stepping away.
“Let’s get a move on.” Everyone takes turns saying goodbye to Y/n and gathering their packs. There’s not a dry eye in the room, Nat holding onto her tightly and not wanting to let go.
“C’mon, Phee,” Y/n’s tone is soft, “you rise from the ashes. You’ve been doing it since I’ve known ya. You’ll get through this. I know you will.”
Nat whimpers, wiping her face as she says, “You better save me a drink up there. Because we’ll have a lot to discuss when I join you.”
“That’ll be years from now,” she assures her, pulling away from the hug, “But I’ll have your favorite ready to go when that happens.”
It was hard with each goodbye. Reuben and Javy understandably made theirs quick. Mickey said how he was gonna miss sharing the excitement with Y/n when he would find an old comic book. Sweet Bob’s face was bright red as the tears ran down his face unapologetically. “I’ll never forget you, Y/n.” She choked back a sob as she replied, “I would hope not, Bobby Boy.”
Rooster’s hug lasted longer than the others, kissing the side of her head lovely as he whispered into her ear, “Thank you for everything. I promise I won’t let anything happen to Jaime. You can count on it. And Y/n…I-I just want you to know that I lo—.”
“I know,” she cups his face, staring into the beautiful hazel eyes she adored. “I know, Roo. I’ve known for a while. And I feel the same, always have.” He wanted to kiss her one last time, but the infection had a chance of transferring through saliva and they couldn’t risk him getting it. It pained him that he couldn’t offer one last kiss to her.
Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, making them narrow in confusion. “Mav, what are you doing?” The question came at the sight of the older man cutting into the containers and bringing the gas further out to the hall where they could hear the approaching noise increase. They had maybe less than two minutes before they had company.
Mav threw his bag down as he pushed away the empty canister. “I’m staying.” The reaction was immediate.
“The hell you—!”
“I’m infected too,” at the gasp from Nat and stunned looks from everyone, besides Y/n, Pete bent down to pull up his pant leg. When he did the same ugly veins coated his skin. Then he lifted the end of his t-shirt, revealing more. “I don't have much time either.”
The reaction from Bradley could best be described with one word: agony.
“No,” he rubbed his face before his hands went to his hair. “No. This can’t be happening.” He wouldn’t accept it. Losing Y/n was one thing, but also losing Mav—his second father, in the same night? His entire soul was being ripped apart.
“Bradley—.”
“This can’t fucking be real!” Rooster shouted, not caring the tears were falling from his eyes. “Not you too!” The sounds from the distant hallways were getting louder, Payback and Jake rushing to close the doors of the room they were in to block them off before pushing desks and tables in front of them. It wouldn’t last much, but it’d at least buy them some seconds.
“Guys we really need to go,” Jake rushed out, pushing Coyote to the door. “Now! We can’t stay here!” It was a scene of distraught. They were now faced with the reality of losing both Y/n and their team leader. Fear of the incoming undead is what made them not break down right then and there. Nat knew once she got in the van she’d would lose it.
Rooster was already starting to break down. His face was red and riddled with tears, breathing heavily as he tried to fight back against Payback and Bob’s grip. “Don’t do this to me, Mav! N-no! Fucking dammit-I’m not leaving them! Mav! Please!”
“I’m sorry, kid,” Pete removes his dog tags and tosses them to Bradley to catch. He doesn’t know how he caught them, but the action hurts him even more. “You’re gonna be okay. I’ll see you again one day.”
“Don’t fucking tell me that! I don’t want that, Mav. C’mon—we were supposed to survive this together!”
“I know,” Mav sighs, green eyes red from crying. “I’m sorry, Bradley. But you’re gonna have to do it without me.” The former pilot releases a heartbreaking sound, making Y/n put her hand to her mouth to cover her sobs.
“Rooster, we have to go!” Reuben tells him sadly, practically shoving his friend backward. “I’m sorry, man, but it’s over.”
“Don’t make us have to sedate you, Bradshaw,” Jake threatens with an unreadable tone. He hated doing so, but if they didn’t leave in the next ten seconds they were about to be sitting ducks for a mob of undead.
“Mav!” Bradley screams as they finally get him out the door and out from their sights. Y/n is having to catch her breath from how hard she was crying. Seeing the man she loved in such a state did absolute destruction to her heart.
“Give these to Jaime,” she removes her own dog tags that were around her neck. She passes them to Natasha, who was the last in the building and fighting back the urge to collapse. “I love you guys so much.”
“We love you too,” Nat sobs, glancing between Pepper and Mav. “Both of you. I-I’m so sorry. This shouldn’t—this shouldn't have happened.”
Y/n just sighs, trying to smile at her friend, “It was an honor serving with you, Nat.” She sees the woman let out a shaky breath, nodding before turning on her heel and racing out of the building. When the trucks started she felt some relief, feeling more of it when the sound of them driving off could be heard.
Now it was just her and Pete.
“When did you figure it out?” She hesitated to ask, finally looking up from the ground she had been staring at for a good five seconds.
“When I noticed you were quieter than usual,” he replied, then asked, “What about you?”
“When you kept messing with your pants and checking if someone noticed.”
“Yeah,” he cracked his neck, then said, “I take it you got something to light this place up?” Instead of answering, Y/n removes the match box from her pocket.
Together they pull two chairs into the middle of the floor, facing the doors the undead were currently running for. A loud bang indicated they breached whatever obstacle in their path. It would be maybe thirty seconds before they arrived. Sitting down, Y/n opened the match box to find two cigatters hidden with only one match.
“How fucking ironic,” she chuckled, removing one to place between her lips before offering one to Maverick. Though he didn’t smoke, the occasion called for it so he took the tobacco and allowed her to light it with the last match before doing the same to hers.
Leaning forward in her chair, Y/n inhaled deeply before releasing the smoke, “What do you think we’ll find?”
“Hopefully…peace,” he breathes out, smoke filling the air. “But I hope to find my parents, maybe Ice and Goose. Hondo. Penny and Amelia,” his voice turns softer at the last couple names. “But mostly I hope to find peace. You?”
“The same,” she gives a small smile, leaning back in the chair as the noise gets louder. Fifteen seconds. “I sorta hope to find The Hard Deck. Maybe that’s where everyone is waiting for us.”
“That would be nice,” Mav agrees. Ten seconds.
Y/n gulps, “Mav?” The growls and moans were closing in.
“Yeah,” he says calmly. Five seconds.
“It’s been an honor serving with you.” He takes her hand in his. Three.
“The honor is mine, Pepper.” Two.
The cigarette bud flicked from her hand at the same moment the doors busted open. One.
Nothing could describe the flooding of anxiety that filled Jaime L/n when she heard the commotion from inside the courthouse, followed by the guys practically dragging Rooster out. Javy, Jake, and Mickey hopped into the armored van in front of the one she was in where Mickey’s brothers were. Meanwhile Bob, Payback and Nat were coming to the one she and Allison were in, hauling Rooster who was in evident distraught.
“What’s happening?” She said aloud, receiving no answer as Bob and Payback threw Bradley into the back seat, with Nat hopping in after them. Payback immediately got into the driver's seat with Bob in the passenger. Turning around to the courthouse, Jaime awaited Y/n to run out with Maverick. But neither came and she realized Payback was starting up the vehicle. “Where’s Y/n? And Maverick?” When none answered, only hearing the light cries from the former pilots.
This time with her blood running cold, she asked in a more demanding tone, “Where’s my sister? Wha—what are you doing!” She shouted when the van started to move, following behind Jake and the others. “Wait!” She turned in her seat, still no sight of the two. “No! What are you doing!? Stop—my sister’s still in there!” When Jaime turned back to scream at Payback to stop the van, she was met with the heartbreaking eyes of Natasha, who simply extended her hand over the seat to hand over something. Snatching it, Jaime felt her entire world collapsed seeing it was Y/n’s dog tags.
“N-no,” she croaked, lifting her gaze to Nat to find she was shaking her head. “No…”
“I’m sorry, Jaime. She was bit—.”
“NO!!” Jaime screamed, turning to look at the courthouse in hopes it was a joke and Y/n would run after the van. “You’re lying! She would’ve said something.”
“Honey, she didn’t want you to know—s-she was gonna have to leave us eventually.”
The teenager wailed at the news. Not wanting to believe her sister would send her off without saying. Not without a goodbye. Now it made sense why she was asking her to promise her all those. It was because she knew it would be the last time they saw each other. Jaime cried at the realization.
She slapped the seat, “Go back! Go back now! I won’t fucking leave her there! Ple-ease!” She hiccuped, beginning to crawl over the seats so she could get to the doors. Immediately Rooster was taking a hold of her, causing her to thrash. “No-fuck you! Let me go! That’s m-my sister! Please, Rooster—we have to go-oo back!”
“I’m sorry, kiddo,” he shot Nat a look when she removed the syringe, mouthing, ‘not yet.’
“No-no-no-no-no-nooo,” she cried, fighting against him but to no avail. “Please! Don’t leave her—go back!
They were some distance away, but still in sight of the courthouse when an explosion rattled the ground. Jaime got enough away from Rooster’s grip to look up and see the building was on fire. “NOOO!!!!” She broke down in despair, falling against the man who just held onto her as his own tears rolled down. Everyone in the van was in the same state, Payback was gripping the steering wheel so tight and Bob had his head in his hands.
Jaime just kept screaming and crying, occasionally fighting against Rooster and at one point her panic attack became too much that Nat had to sedate her when she actually threw a punch at him. He wasn’t angry or upset of course. He understood exactly what she was going through.
Both of them just lost the only family they had.
It would be an image that would haunt them forever. The ablazed courthouse where their friends layed. They didn’t want to picture what they looked like, instead focusing on their final days. Where Y/n was dancing with Mickey to an old song that came on the radio. Where Maverick was showing the teenagers how to change a tire in case the vans were to break down. The nights by the fires reminiscing on what it was like before the outbreak. Shooting pool and darts at the Hard Deck, before it became a graveyard to the undead.
Those things are what they would remember. The feeling of warmth and nostalgia from reliving those memories would help them in their grief. They were in denial at first, then angry, followed by bargaining as they asked, “it should’ve been me.” The depression lasted a long time. Mostly for Rooster and Jaime who had trouble adjusting to life without their loved ones. The nightmares were horrible, keeping them from getting sleep. Jaime went from an optimistic, bright, teenager to cold and detached. It took some time before she reached the final stage of grief: acceptance.
It was roughly two years after Y/n died that she understood why her sister didn’t tell her during that final conversation. Why she made sure she was out in the van before she realized Y/n was staying behind. It was so Jaime could remember her in a healthy, happy, light. So she wasn’t faced with the devastation of seeing her become undead.
Everyday she wore her dog tags, fiddling with them whenever she became anxious. The days she felt lonely and depressed she’d glance through the booklet with all the photographs Y/n had gifted her. Shortly after the incident Jaime discovered Y/n’s notebook with all her entries starting from the day after the outbreak, to the most recent being the one six hours before she died. Jaime felt her heart break and repair each time she read an entry. She cried a lot at the one detailing the day the squad found her, where Y/n spoke of how she had to execute their infected parents and brother. There were entries that made her laugh, some made her angry—especially one talking about the night they lost Halo, Hondo, Penny, and Amelia. It was so unfair how it happened. The team was just trying to get through Vegas and bombs were going off due to the conflict between the army and rebelled militia groups.
The last entry, Jaime trailed her fingertips over Y/n’s handwriting, hoping she would feel closer to her sister. Feel her warmth again, hear her laugh, see her smile. She wasn’t the only one. Every now and then Jaime would catch Rooster looking at his own Polaroids with Y/n and Mav.
Years passed. Summers turned to fall and then winter and spring. The tenth anniversary of the outbreak came and went, with their group losing Javy, Ray, Bob, and Allison along the way. Jake died around the fifteenth, with Mickey not too far behind due to an injury to his leg. They finally decided to stop their ‘transport’ business when that happened, no longer able to do the work they once were able to as Bradley, Nat, and Rueben were all approaching their fifties. Jaime was now in her thirties and had met a nice man on their travels, falling in love when she never thought it was possible.
She wasn’t the only one to find love. Nat married, so did Payback though neither had children. Rooster was the only one to not do so. Even when it was obvious men and women they met in their travels expressed attraction to him, Bradley denied their advances. When asked he simply said, “I had my love. There wasn’t anyone like her and my heart won’t belong to someone else. She took it with her when she left.”
Rumors started to spread around the twentieth year that the new generation of children being born were immune to the virus. Pregnant, Jaime felt a mix of fear and hope at the thought her baby was immune. Hope that maybe a cure could be discovered, but fear at what the government planned to do with the children. Surely they were ripping them from their families to be taken to testing locations. Immediately Jaimie, her husband and the remaining squad members with their loved ones they found and created all went into hiding in Fightertown.
Humanity began to rebuild in the 25th year. An announcement was made just shortly after the outbreak anniversary that countries working together were able to create an effective vaccine. It was to be distributed immediately, with no human being denied the access to be cured. Jaime had just had her second child when they got it. Within six months every remaining human had received the vaccination.
Finally, after 25 years. They could breathe a sigh of relief.
The team remained in contact despite going their separate ways. Rooster traveled back to Virginia where his parents rested, sending a vintage postcard to Jaime when he arrived. Nat and her husband remained in San Diego, Reuben and his wife traveled to Colorado. Jaime, having seen every inch of the country, ended up landing in Washington state. She didn’t go to Seattle, it was still too painful, but she went close to the Canadian border.
The reason: the sunsets.
“Look at how the sky just lights up. So many colors—a beautiful array of orange and pinks,” she heard Y/n’s voice when she closed her eyes the first time she sat on the porch steps of her new home, the sun descending on the horizon. “I’ve seen many sunsets in my days, kiddo. But nothing compares to the ones on the PNW. They by far are the most mesmerizing to look at.”
Breathing in the fresh air, the most refreshing she’d ever inhaled now that she was away from most of civilization as the cities were being rebuilt, Jaime felt the weight finally lift from her shoulders. “You and me against the world, right kiddo?”
“You and me against the world.”
Acceptance. It was finally here. Jaime thought she had accepted her sister’s death ages ago, but really she had pushed it to the back burner to focus on other things. Never did she truly accept Y/n’s death, she just adapted to it like everything else.
Being able to come back to Washington, the place she lost her sister, and watching the sunsets she knew Y/n loved is what really brought Jaime peace.
She finally reached the final stage of grief.
40 years later
The bright welcomed Jaime with warmth spreading throughout her body. Gasping, she opened her eyes and glanced down to find she was no longer sleeping in her bed with her children holding onto her hands. Instead she was wearing an old flannel she remembered she loved as a teenager, with light wash jeans and converse. Her hands were no longer wrinkled and rail, she felt like she was back in the body of her young self.
Ocean waves filled her ears, and when she turned around she found the sea ahead with a familiar building she only knew by the memories her sister would tell her.
The Hard Deck.
All around was a hue she couldn’t explain. It was bright, almost luminescent with the sun’s rays beating down. Something in the building was calling to her.
“Go,” a voice said. She didn’t recognize it, but it was telling her to go inside. “They’re waiting for you.”
Her feet carried her across the parking lot. No cars were there which made it unusual for a bar that read ‘open’ on its glowing sign. Still Jaime approached the door, hearing the faint sounds of conversation and music. When she pushed the door open, the music stopped and she was frozen at the sight before her.
The whole Dagger Squad were dressed in their service khakis looking the same as they did the night of the outbreak. Penny and Amelia were behind the bar, where Mav was seated with Hondo, Warlock, and Cyclone. Ray, Sammy, and Allison were by the jukebox, beaming at Jaime and her heart picked up at the sight of her husband of nearly 50 years beside them. The Dagger Squad were smiling. Especially Rooster who looked young and handsome again, throwing Jaime a wink as if to say, ‘about time you showed up. We’ve been waiting ages.’
Heart beating, she felt the emotion surge in her causing tears to prick in eyes. Jaime’s eyes drifted over, bringing a hand to her mouth when they landed on her parents and brother seated in a booth, her father standing from his seat.
She wanted to rush over to them but something was stopping her. Almost like she needed to see one last person before she could.
And there was only one missing.
Before the name could leave her lips, Jaime heard her voice. After years of wondering if she had found peace, the answer came with a simple greeting of, “Hey, kiddo.”
……………………….
TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13, @poppyalice2001, @cutelittlepotatofry, @luckyladycreator2, @americaarse, @elenavampire21, @back-tooo-black
108 notes · View notes
shmaptainwrites · 1 year
Text
[CH. 4] New Doctor on the Block
Tumblr media
Chapter 4: Dear Dad
Pairings: Hawkeye Pierce x fem!Reader
Characters: Hawkeye Pierce, B.J. Hunnicutt
Summary: Hawkeye writes home to his dad and tells him about the new surgeon at the camp
Warnings: sappy sap sapppyyyyy
Note: Okay you know I had to write a Dear Dad chapter, it was so cool exploring a bit of Hawkeye’s perspective in this! Hope you all like it :) please ignore that this is a day late i COMPLETELY forgot
Series Masterlist - NDotB Masterlist
Tumblr media
When Hawkeye woke up that morning he knew something felt different. At first, he thought it could have been what Frank was arguing about with B.J. but that couldn’t be it. 
Tale as old as time. He thought to himself. 
But as he started to wake more he realized, today was the day someone was coming to interview some of the people working at their M*A*S*H unit. 
He wasn’t sure whether he looked forward to or dreaded it, but either way, it was coming. 
“You okay Hawkeye?” B.J. asked and the surgeon shrugged. 
“Was gonna write to my dad this morning, but I think that’s going to have to wait,” he pointed to the jeep pulling into the unit. 
“I’m sure you’ll have time to do it in the afternoon. It’s too bad not everyone is here for the interview,” he commented, noting yours and Major Houlihan’s absence, both away on a weekend trip to Tokyo. “Would have been good to hear from both of them.” 
Hawkeye nodded his head and they exited the swamp waiting to be called on for their interviews. 
Hawkeye did his interview in the mess tent. Some of the questions he thought were peculiar, almost wondering what was being hidden from the public about the war and seeing and hearing how normal things were going on back home only made him miss it more. He missed Maine, his practice in Boston, he missed his friend Trapper, and most of all, he missed feeling safe. As much as Hawkeye had come to love the South Koreans, their country had only brought him fear and he imagined it was the same for them, except eventually, hopefully, he got to go back home. This was their home. 
Once the interview was over and he had just gotten settled in his tent, the notice came out that they were flying in more wounded and all available personnel needed to report to the OR immediately. 
He sighed, putting down the paper and pencil he was going to use to write to his father and rushed out to triage. 
He wasn’t sure how many hours later it was when they finished, but all he knew was he couldn’t fall asleep. Not immediately anyways, eventually the exhaustion would take over, but for now, the adrenaline was coursing through his veins and it needed to die down before he got any rest. 
So he picked up the pen and paper he had left on his bed and sat down outside under the light of a portable lamp and began to write. 
Dear Dad, 
What a day it’s been. I know I’ve told you about our busy days here, but this one was a little different. A documentary group had come to interview all of us on what it was like being close to the front of the war. I’m not sure if they got what they were looking for. 
A little while after the interviews finished a new wave of choppers came with wounded soldiers and we tended to them all night. I just got out of the OR myself. 
I feel a bit bad though because I think I lied when the interviewer asked me a question. He said, who are your heroes? I wasn’t sure I had any so I said I didn’t but the more I thought of it I figured it out and it’s even funnier because get this, she hates my guts. 
I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned the new surgeon who’s joined our unit. She’s from New Hampshire and worked as a nurse in the Second World War. She’s phenomenal, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone more capable for her position. I must admit a few of us were skeptical when she first arrived, but she’s got a knack for it, keeps up to date with the journals, and managed to save a few patients who wouldn’t have made it otherwise because of that. 
Just a little while ago, we had this kid come into the OR, we knew right away there was nothing we’d be able to do for him and cutting him up would just add to the unpleasantness so we gave him some painkillers to at least numb him, but he was still lucid. He grabbed her arm and started calling her mom, all of us thought he was delusional or the pain was making him see something in her that wasn’t there. B.J. was about to step in and tell the boy that his mother wasn’t there, but she stopped him and sat down and acted like his mother until he was gone. It was one of the most selfless things I’ve ever seen anyone do here. It was no easy job, he was scared out of his mind, didn’t want to die, but then again who would at eighteen? Turns out he was carrying a picture of his mother on him when he went, the resemblance was uncanny. 
I don’t know if I’d ever be able to do that for someone. I’m a doctor, I know I can do that much, but she’s a mom too, there’s another level of thinking there that I don’t understand. Suppose I never will. 
And she’s not just a good doctor, I wish you could have seen the way she surprised everyone the other week. Father Mulcahy, I’ve told you about him, he’s our unit’s chaplain, and likes to organize sports and games to keep the morale high around here, so he planned a game of football for some of the enlisted men, a few of the surgeons were around when he suggested it and she asked if she could join them. One of the privates commented that maybe the game might be too rough for her, but before he could protest any more she took the ball from the Father and marched out to the middle of the compound. She asked the private to try and block her and when he refused she gave rank and the poor guy had no idea what was coming for him. She easily managed to get past him and across the line but didn’t stop there. Next, she tossed him the football and told him to try and get past her. Since he was embarrassed of course he had to try and rise to the occasion, but I’m sure you can sense where I’m going with this. She tackled the crap out of him then picked herself up and dusted off her pants as if nothing had happened. B.J. found out later that her mom was sick a lot when she was younger so she spent a lot of time with her dad and one of their favourite pastimes was playing football. I think all of us here at MASH can say without a doubt that he taught her very well. 
Aside from that, I narrowly avoided spending the rest of my life in the stockade just by being a good doctor. It was the 557th time Frank had tried to court marshall me for mutiny, but all that came out of it was that Frank is an incompetent doctor and surgeon and I had every right to drug him with novocaine so his reign of terror would end. 
Not much else has happened here aside from the usual surgery, sleep, and bad food, but I hope all is well at home. I look forward to hearing back from you soon. 
Love, 
Your son, 
Hawkeye Pierce
Tumblr media
Tags
@montyfandomlove
29 notes · View notes
boldlyvoid · 1 year
Text
No Longer Alone Together: Part 7
Tumblr media
Part 7 | Masterlist
December 20th: Atlas Day
She has a really bad nightmare that night. She wakes up in a pool of sweat, crying so hard it startles Spencer awake too. “Hey, hey, you’re okay. I’m right here…” 
She turns into him and cries harder, searching for his warmth to feel real again. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? What happened?” 
“I— I,” she stutters while trying to catch her breath. “I died again…” 
It always felt so real. 
She woke up with the kids, she kissed them before they took the bus to school and then she went to work. Completely normal. But she wasn’t at her normal work. She was at a dig site, she was in a tunnel trying to get to something big for the museum when it all went south.
The walls started closing in. The way the dirt smelled like pure earth as it filled her lungs and swallowed her whole. She was fighting for air, scratching at the surface, so close to saving herself, scared she’d never see her babies again, it was the last thought she had before it went dark. 
It was dark for so long… too long for a dream. 
Once she was awake all she could do was throw herself into Spencer's arms to ensure that she was still real. His chest is warm, his hands are sturdy, and his breathing is loud. He’s real. It’s real. It’s okay. 
“You’re not dead, you’re very much alive, my love,” he assures her, rubbing her back and her arms, creating friction against her skin so she’d start believing him. “You’re here, I’m here. It’s okay.” 
“Yeah,” she lets out a shaky breath, settling ever so slowly. Her body was still on high alert. “I died like my mom…” 
“The brain is so fucking mean,” he can’t believe it. “I’m so sorry, love.” 
“It’s cause it’s his birthday,” she puts two and two together. “She died when I was 8… now he’s 8.” 
“You’re not going to die,” he isn’t assuring her, he’s telling her. “It’s not happening this year, or ever, actually. I’m not letting it.” 
“Okay,” she manages to laugh at how serious he is. “If you say so I guess it has to be true.” 
“I make the rules,” he teases, resting his cheek against the top of her head. 
She lets out another deep breath, actually settling this time. She wraps her arms around him and holds him a bit tighter. “I’m sorry I woke you up.” 
“Don’t be, it’s more than okay,” he would stay up all night for her if he had to. She knew that because he has stayed up with her many nights before. “I love you.” 
“I love you, more,” Spencer whispers back. “But you can win today…” 
“I love you, most, how about that?” She quotes tangled, knowing almost all the words to that film thanks to the kids. 
Spencer turns to look at the clock on his night table, it’s only 5:30am, the kids don’t have to get up for another 2 hours, and he doubts that she’s going back to sleep. “Do you want to go downstairs and set up all his presents early and have breakfast, just me and you?” 
She nods, “please?” 
“Come on,” he gets her out of bed, they get dressed and tiptoe past the kids rooms on their way downstairs. 
It’s nothing gourmet or exciting, he simply puts a few waffles in the toaster and sets out some syrup, but it’s nice to get to eat together, just the two of them, in their own home. Having kids meant they were never alone together anymore, they always had someone watching over them or nearby… she doesn’t miss it, she just wishes they had more time together before they did the whole family thing. She wishes she knew Spencer her whole life. No matter how much time she got with him, it would never feel like enough. 
After they eat, they get Atlas’s birthday presents out from the hiding spot in the back of Spencer's office. The kids didn’t know it was there, only they did… it was originally a place for Y/N and the kids to hide in the case of an intruder while Spencer was at work, but now it’s basically Santa’s workshop— they have wrapping paper organized on the wall, tape dispensers on the desk beside the art supplies they use to write letters back to the kids from Santa. T shelves are filled with baskets that had each kid's name on them, and each basket was filled with little gifts collected over the year for their stockings and good behaviour rewards. Everything has a place, it’s the coolest room in their house… but right now it looks like a Christmas glitter bomb went off as they prep for the big day.
Atlas had asked Santa for something neither one of them expected him to this year, it’s the biggest gift in the room and they’ve been worried about how the heck they were going to wrap it up for him… now they can actually just set it up in the kitchen and he can use it right away while the sky is still dark enough outside. 
He’s suddenly done a 180 in his interest on earth's rocks and started paying a lot of attention to the moon instead. It started in the summer when they went star gazing and got more intense right after she taught him about how the earth moves around the sun. Now he wants to know everything about their solar system. With Spencer being gone and her field of knowledge being paleontology, she had to find help to answer all his questions. She asked her colleague at the air and space museum for book recommendations and the next day he was in her office with a box of his old books for Atlas. 
He’s been obsessed ever since. 
At the start of the month, he saw that national geographic sold telescopes for kids, when he was looking at all the little science kits they offered… it’s almost $400 for a kids toy, it’s expensive and he’ll probably outgrow it, but he wants it. And sure, he asked Santa for it because Santa can make anything and money isn’t a problem for him… but they wanted to get it for him if it’s this big of a deal to him. 
They want to reward his interests, they don’t want him to have to wait for Santa to get into things he likes. 
For the first time in his life, he’s found an interest that is purely his own. At first he liked rocks cause his big cousin Henry had so many, then he liked dinosaurs because that’s where mommy worked. And there was a little period in time when he wanted to be an FBI agent, and then a writer, but mostly, his copycat tendencies were directed toward his mother. He loved fossils and rocks and crystals, he knew everything about every exhibit and could probably lead her tours for her, he could probably even teach a class on carbon dating bones… he was a little genius. 
And now that he likes space, they can throw in another extra present for him to go along with what they’re planning for the girls. 
In the spring they’re taking a trip to Florida, Luna wants to meet some princesses at Disney World and ever since Noelle heard that you can actually watch the sun go down and the lights go on in Radiator Springs, she’s been dying to go as well. The Kennedy Space centre isn’t too far away from Disney World, it wasn’t hard to add another day into their plans, and this way a real astronaut would be able to answer every question Atlas had. 
On Christmas morning the kids would know all about the trip, till then, their tickets and boarding passes are waiting in their stocking baskets along with Mickey Mouse ears and some NASA pins. 
Luna cries that morning when she doesn’t find her parents in their bed, she’s sniffling with her teddy and blanket when she comes down the stairs to look for them. “Where are you, mommy? Daddy?” 
“Oh honey,” Spencer picks her right up and wipes her cheeks, replacing her tears with soft kisses. “We came down to make your brother's birthday present.” 
“Oh yeah,” she brightens up. “It’s Atlas day!” 
“It is,” Y/N joins them, kissing Luna on the head to make sure her crying randomly wasn’t a sign she was getting sick. She wasn’t normally one to cry unless very overwhelmed, overtired or getting sick. 
She doesn’t feel warm, but they’d keep an eye on her just in case. It would suck if she’s sick on Christmas. 
“Do you want to go upstairs and wake him up with me?” Spencer suggests, “we’ll go get Noa first and then we can all give him a big hug in his bed, okay?” 
“Okay,” she nods along, sleep-filled eyes and her face all puffy from just waking up, she’s the cutest thing in the world. 
Spencer sets her down on the ground and she takes off up the stairs with her parents following swiftly behind her. She twists the door knob to Noelle’s room carefully but swings the door open a bit too hard, startling her sister. “What the heck?” The 6-year-old complains as she rubs her eyes, “Luna?” 
“Wake up, it’s Atlas day!” She whisper shouts.
“Do you want to help us wake up your brother?” Spencer explains why they’re all in her room a bit better than the 4-year-old could. 
“Yeah,” she stretches real hard, arms extended over her head and back arching till it cracks a few times. She rubs her now-healed arm, forgetting that she doesn’t have the cast anymore and she can extend it a lot more than before. She tosses her sheets back and hops down to the floor, pulling her sister into a quick hug to say good morning, and then her parents. 
Spencer kisses the top of her head, “sleep good?” 
She nods, “I had a dream I was making cakes with Selena Gomez…” she recalls, clearly watching way too much Selena+ chef on her iPad again. It was one of her favourite shows during the pandemic, she watched it almost as much as she watched Cars 3. What a weird combination, but so totally Noelle. 
She hugs her mom too, giving her a quick kiss before she heads to her brother's door and waits for the okay to open it. Y/N takes the door handle in her hands instead, twisting it slowly and opening it carefully… but all that care is useless when the girls run in shouting happy birthday. He sits up, startled as can be and then he smiles. His sisters jump into his bed and smother him in hugs, all giggling together within seconds. Spencer wraps an arm around Y/N watching from the doorway with matching smiles. 
They had the perfect family. 
The girls run down the stairs first, leaving Atlas to walk down holding Y/N’s hand with Spencer behind, holding up his phone camera so he can capture the shock and awe on his face when he sees his gift. 
He lights right up, gasping as he lets go of his mother's hand to cover his mouth, “no way…” he stops walking at the entrance of the living room, stuck in shock as he stares at his telescope with a big red bow placed on top of it. 
“It’s not the one you wanted, it’s better,” Spencer explains. “The National Geographic one wasn’t that good once we looked into it.” 
“But what if Santa brings that one?” Atlas worries.
“Oh,” Y/N turns to Spencer and improvises. “Um, Santa reached out to us through one of the elves and said he didn’t have any telescope glass left and it was hard to make more so we said we’d get you one for your birthday if he got everything else on your lists.” 
“Even Noa and Lulus?” He lights up for his sisters. “Thats so nice of Santa?” 
“Isn’t he just the best?” Y/N says with a smile, unable to keep a straight face. Lying to the kids about a magical man who brings them presents is so weird, but so fun. 
Atlas pulls her in for a hug, “thank you so much!” 
“You’re welcome, Bug,” she kisses the top of his head a few times. “It’s not the only gift we got you… go look.” 
On the table beside his telescope are 2 wrapped presents and a spaceship bag stuffed with bright green tissue paper. He opens the bag first, quickly pulling the paper out and dropping it to the floor. He pulls out a big puffy bomber jacket in his size. It’s dark blue with patches all over it. A huge NASA patch on the back, the Artemis 1 logo on the sleeve and an orange tag on the zipper the same way the astronauts have on their suits. He puts it on right away, loving it so much. 
“And look in the pocket,” Spencer instructs. “We did something really cool for you earlier this year…” 
“What?” He pulls a piece of paper out of the jacket pocket, unfolding it to see a boarding pass. 
“The Artemis 1 flew around the moon this month, remember we watched it take off?” Y/N explains. “We signed your name up so it’s on a flash drive that’s flying around the moon forever now… your name is in space.” 
“Wow,” he’s amazed, holding the paper with big glossy eyes. “Maybe I’ll go to the moon one day too?” 
“Maybe,” Spencer agrees. “Till then, your name has travelled 1.3 million miles and NASA is going to send me an email every time you can send your name up for something else too and you can save all the miles and see how far in space your name can go.” 
“Wow,” he says again, overwhelmed and starting to cry. “This is so cool, dad?” 
“It was your mom's idea,” he passes on all the credit. “She heard about it at work.” 
“My friend Scott, who gave you all those books, actually, he told me all about it and I knew I had to sign you up,” she explains. “I’m so glad you like it.” 
“I LOVE it!” He assures her with a huge smile. 
He opens his two other gifts, one is a real big book about Space accompanied by an audiobook from Neil deGrasse Tyson that he can listen to in his room while reading along.  His other gift was a couple nice T-shirts that he could pick from to wear to school today. He loves them all, he wants to get dressed in his gifts but they convince him to eat breakfast first before getting ready so he doesn’t ruin anything. 
They have pancakes with sprinkles and whip cream, it’s a feast for a king. He’s so excited about everything that he almost forgets that there is a present he wants to give to his sisters. All 3 of them, technically. He passes the Christmas tree on his way upstairs and sees the little gift he wrapped with his mom on the first night his bedtime got pushed back, it’s no perfect, but it’s definitely wrapped by him. He picks it up and comes barreling back into the kitchen with it. “Noa, Luna, this is for you!” 
“You can’t touch the Christmas tree presents!” Noelle almost loses her mind, “the elves are going to find out! Go put it back!” 
“No, no it’s from me,” he puts it on the table, “right mom?” 
“Oh, oh yeah,” she was doing the dishes, she has to wipe her wet hands off on her pyjama shirt and rush over to the table before a freakout happens. “Atlas wanted to give you guys something today too, isn’t that nice of him?”
“Oh,” Noelle settles down, ever the rule follower if it meant getting her brother in trouble. “We can open it early?” 
“Yeah, here,” Atlas slides it over to her, “come help, Lulu.” 
She sits beside her sister and the two of them peel off the wrapping paper together to see a small cardigan. “This won’t fit me?” Luna knows, “thank you?” 
“Are we supposed to give this to Mabel?” Noa rationalizes, holding it up to her chest to see how tiny it is. 
“Actually,” Atlas beams with excitement, “it’s for our new little sister…” 
“What sister?” Luna asks while Noelle's eyes light up and turn to her mom. 
“You’re having another baby?!” She all but screams as she realizes what they mean. 
She nods with a sweet smile, “I am…” 
“AH!!!” She screams at the top of her lungs with excitement, causing Luna to do the same, and all the screaming makes Spencer come running from upstairs. 
He’s half-dressed, getting ready to shovel a bit of the driveway before taking the kids up to the bus stop, “what’s going on? Are you alright?” 
Y/N’s laughing with them, watching them jump on their chairs and cheer, “mommy is having another baby!!” Luna cheers. 
“It’s a girl!” Noelle screams back, “we have another sister!” 
Spencer holds his hand over his heart and sighs, “you cant scream like that, I thought someone was breaking in?” 
“We’re okay,” Y/N explains walking over to him and wrapping her arms around him. She gives him a big kiss on the lips, whispering, “we’re really, really okay,” against them. 
They spend most of the morning wrapping all the presents they have for the kids, taking the chance to do it while no one is around to accidentally see them. They get everything wrapped by the time Luna’s bus is stopping at the top of the driveway, dropping her off from her half day, only someone else is in the driveway waiting for her, not her dad. 
Her mom and dad are busy “baking cookies” like they do every year…
“Looney Tunes!” Diana calls out to her with open arms, Liam right behind her with a big smile. 
“Gramma!” She cheers, rushing to them as quickly as possible in her winter boots, big heavy coat and book bag dragging her down. She hasn’t seen them in about a month, they left just a couple of days before Spencer got home, it was like a trade-off of missing someone for Luna. 
They smother her in hugs and kisses and then Spencer is rushing to the end of the driveway, “mom? What are you doing home?” 
“We got our days mixed up,” Liam explains, placing a hand on Spencer's shoulder and pulling him in for a hug. “But now we’re home for the big guy's birthday.” 
“This is perfect” Spencer holds his father-in-law for a few moments, pulling back just as his mom puts his daughter back down on the snowy driveway. “Mom…” 
“My boy,” she opens her arms for him to fall into, holding her close and absorbing all the love she’s been dying to give him since he left on his big press tour. 
“When did you get here?” He wonders, they never knocked on the door… or if they did, Spencer was too busy to hear it. 
“A few minutes ago but we know the bus schedule,” Liam explains, taking Luna's backpack for her. “Figured you’d want as much time alone as possible…” 
Spencer looks at him with wide eyes, “we were just making Christmas cookies…” 
“Uh huh, sounded like it,” Diana can’t help but laugh. “You’re all flushed, sweetie…” 
He sighs, embarrassed, “well, come on in then…” 
Inside, Liam and Y/N hug and reconnect, they all have a cookie while Spencer puts the kettle on and warms up some lunch for Luna. They share a bunch of photos from their trip and ask all about the kids December traditions. Grandma and grandpa get a copy of the kids Santa photos and some other cute things they’ve done over the month. 
“Any other big things?” Diana asks, wanting to hear all about the new Prentiss baby that was just born. 
“Mommy, do you have a photo of our baby yet?” Luna asks, not thinking anything of it. 
“Your baby?” Liam repeats, “are you pregnant again?” 
Diana lights right up as well, the two of them exploding with excitement as Y/N nods, “yeah, I’m super pregnant…” 
She’s wrapped up in a million hugs it seems, she can't get any words in without Liam or Diana wanting one. They lay their hands over her growing belly, she hasn’t really noticed it all that much but she’s approaching 3 months, and she’s definitely growing. 
She wants to tell them more, but she has to go out and get the cake for their little party tonight, it’s supposed to be just them and the cousins, they’re all coming right over after school for pizza and a movie on the projector in the playroom. This year Atlas has requested an ice cream cake even though his birthday is in the middle of the winter and the snow hasn’t stopped falling since Sunday morning. Who were they to say no to him, though? It was his special day so he got whatever he wanted. 
Grandma offers to stay with the kids, but Spencer wants to stay home too, so Y/N gets a rare day trip out to the shops with her own dad. He drives, knowing how much she hates to drive while pregnant. She really only does it for work, and even then, Spencer sometimes drives her in while the kids are at school so she doesn’t have to. It was going to be interesting heading back to work in a few days and driving on her own, but she’d deal with that then. Right now, she’s having a great time. 
“We got the kids all matching shirts from Alaska, you should’ve told us there was a new baby, now she doesn’t have a shirt,” Liam complains, playfully of course, he didn’t mind. He loved his grand-babies so much it made her heart swell. 
“We found out the other day that she has down syndrome and we have a few more tests to do in the new year, too,” it just falls out of her. She needs her dad to know, “didn’t mom's aunt have it?” 
Liam nods, “yeah, your great aunt Doreen, she passed away when you were about Luna's age from a heart condition… science has changed so much since then though, sweetheart.” 
“I know, Spencer was telling me that the life expectancy now is 60, I’m really hopeful,” she admits with a shaky breath, nervous as ever. “I’m so worried for her already… with the others I was hopeful but from the second I went into the doctors they were reminding me I’m old and making me feel like she’s going to resent me for having her so late in life.” 
“I’m sure she won’t,” Liam reaches out for her hand to hold it. “you’re such a good mom to those kids you’ve got now and you’re a wonderful aunt to all the other little ones always wondering around your house… she’s going to fit right in and she has 14 built-in friends in those cousins and siblings. She’s going to be well protected in life, well-loved too.” 
“I know,” she tries to remind herself of that a lot ever since Spencer said it first. “I was bullied for the dumbest things as a kid, I guess I just worry kids haven’t gotten any better over the years… and then you know what Altas said when we told him? He just said he loved her already… how the heck did I get such sweet kids? Like what did I do to deserve him?” 
“Your mom used to ask me that all the time,” he reminisces. “She would’ve loved them…” Lucky for them they’re pulling up into the Dairy Queen parking lot when his eyes start to water.
“I’m also scared that I’m going to die this time,” she whispers. “I keep having dreams where I die and it’s always like what happened to mom… I suffocate in some dig site and I never see my kids again and it feels like a premonition.” 
“It’s not,” he reaches over for her hand to hold it. “You’re just pregnant, you’ve always had irrational pregnancy dreams… you remember when you were pregnant with Noelle, I was staying in your guest room while Spencer was on a case and you woke up screaming 'cause a bird stole Atlas from his crib in your dream?” 
“yeah…” it was kinda funny looking back on it. 
“A bird never stole him or the girls. This dream isn’t going to come true either,” he assures her. “I really had no idea I’d still be consoling you about bad dreams in my 70s, but here I am.” 
She laughs, wiping away the tear that falls down her cheek, “that bodes well for me, I’m going to get to baby them until they’re all 40, too, aren’t I?” 
“Yes, yes you will,” he pulls her in and kisses the top of her head, just like she did to all her babies now.
31 notes · View notes
sungiesbabygirl · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
Come Kiss me and bite me!
——————————————————————————
Genre: Horror
Pairings: Vampire!heeseung x reader
Warnings: Kissing, biting, gore (poor wonnie), Throwing up, saliva?
P.s this is my first time writing, I’m sorry if it’s bad!
——————————————————————————
It was cold tonight, nothing I had ever felt before. There was something strange about this place, something I couldn’t exactly put my finger on. It wasn’t like anywhere I had ever been, it didn’t feel safe for a woman like myself to walk around. I never imagined it could be more than meets the eye.
I had been walking around for a few hours now, in a small town in South Korea. It was around 1am when I had left my house to go and find a fast food place that was open 24 hours a day. It was now around 2:30am, I look down at my phone trying to type in directions to the nearest convenience store only for my phone to die, “of course this would happen to me.” I mumble as I shove my phone into my small bag that sit on my shoulder perfectly. I grip onto my jacket tighter the winter air hitting at my skin as I try to look for a sign that could tell me where I was.
It didn’t seem like a very good place to be early in the morning it seemed to be deserted, abandoned.. melancholy. The winds had started to get rougher as the dark clouds began to rumble, before I knew it the rain had started to pour down. I pull my hood over my head, squinting my eyes as I look around shivering at the coldness and the feeling of being watched. I see a house in the distance large steel gates surrounding the entrance that seemed to be a little destroyed, I let out a sigh looking around one last time before walking into this place I’d call shelter until the storm died down.
I knock on the door waiting for someone, anyone to answer only to find the door inching open before my very eyes. My eyebrows furrow in confusion wondering how in the hell that happened, ‘was it the wind?’, ‘did I accidentally lean on the door’. I couldn’t give myself answers to the questions I didn’t know so I decided to walk in. Closing the door behind me I notice the warmth of the house, the feeling of someone watching me slowly crept up my back like tingles. I walk further into the house calling out, “hello? Is anyone here? I’m sorry for intruding, I had to get out of the storm.” Once again I was left in silence. No answer. No sign of the living. Just me.
I slowly walk around making my way into a living room, my eyes panning to the fire that was sizzling in the fireplace. My eyes widen as I realize I had just intruded in someone’s house and that they could still be here, i feel a cold breeze of air hit me, my heart pounding as I quickly turn around. My face clashing with a toned chest, I let out a gasp stepping back as I look up at the person standing before me a small smirk on his face. The first thing I had noticed about him was his siren eyes, the way they pierced my soul as he looked at me. His chiseled jaw that could give you a paper cut if you touched it, his nose that looked perfect and i couldn’t figure out why.
He looks me up and down before stepping forward towards me, making me step back again. “I-um I’m sorry for just walking in like this.. a storm started and I don’t know where I am.” My voice comes out in a hushed whisper his gaze intimidating me a little. “Mmh, your lost? Where are you from?”, his voice made my heart skip a beat, it was a little raspy but not the morning type. “I’m from xxx street. In the town of Gangnam-gu.”, I look down at my clothes which were now soaked, a sigh leaving my lips when I realized I had no spare ones. It was silent for a few minutes before he spoke up, “you’re 2 hours away from Gangnam-gu you do realize that right?”
My eyes widen a little as I quickly look up at him, almost getting whip lashed. “What? No- no I can’t be 2 hours away, I was only trying to find a fast food place.” He lets out a chuckle, the smirk on his face widening as he shakes his head. “I’m sorry to tell you, well I’m not, but you did walk 2 hours away from where you live. Which is why you’re here now.” A lump forms in my throat as I take in how alluring his voice was, my heart jumping out of my chest. “I need to get home.. I need to feed my cat wonnie-“ I get cut off as the man infront of me clears his throat. “Excuse me? You can’t go home, there’s a storm. You needed shelter until it stopped didn’t you? I can give you that.. and so much more.” His voice becomes hushed as he says his last few words. My eyebrows furrowing as I couldn’t understand. “Huh? What did you say?”, He shakes his head putting a fake smile on his face, “I didn’t say anything, princess.”
I try to resist the urge of looking at him knowing full well there’s a blush evident on my cheeks, gathering the courage I speak up, “My name.. my name is Y/N. Not princess.” He lets out a scoff type of laugh, looking down at me, “Well Y/N I’m Heeseung, Lee Heeseung. It’s a pleasure to meet you in these circumstances.” I nod my head, letting out a breath of relief knowing he probably wasn’t going to kill me, considering he told me his name. “You’re an overthinker. If I wanted to kill you I would have done it when I saw you outside.” My eyes widen for the 6th time my heart thumping wildly against my chest as my head tells me to run, run far and fast. “W-what, that was you? I felt someone staring at me and it was you?” He nods his head, his eyes closing for a second before he opens them again.
“Come with me. I need to get you out those wet clothes before you get hypothermia.” A small chuckle leaves his mouth at his own words, his hand, which was fairly big, grabbing onto my more petite one. He guides me through the big house, slowly walking up the stairs beside me. My legs slow from the amount of walking I was doing prior. As we make it up the staircase, he takes a sharp right the light being blocked from my eye view as he towers over me. “This is the room you’ll be staying in, I guarantee the storm will last all night so you’re more than welcome to sleep. There’s clothes in the closet, they are all my old ones that don’t fit me anymore. I suggest you make yourself comfortable while I go and make you something to eat.” He lets out a sinister laugh that I pay no attention too, his voice as soft as cats fur as he walks out the bedroom and closes the door.
I put my bag on the bed looking around at the room I’m in, a small wooden desk with a chair to the right of me, a big queen sized bed with what seemed to be red covers over it in the middle of the room and a huge closet at the end of the beds view. A shiver runs through my body, thinking back to ‘the haunting of hill house’ when the children are young and there beds are infront of there closets. I push those thoughts out my head, opening the closet a nice smell wafting through the room. I let out a satisfied hum, peeling of the clothes that had began to sick to my body. I throw them down the side of the bed, putting on a black t shirt that came down to my thighs and some joggers that fit perfectly. I grab some new socks in the drawer and slip them onto my feet before I hear a shout, “Y/N come down, dinner is ready.” I nod my head, although Heeseung couldn’t see me.
I walk down the grand staircase and into the dining room where I see some meat and roasted potatoes on two plates one at each end of the table. I could feel my mouth watering, the scent of cooked food wafting towards me before Heeseung started to talk. “Sit down and eat before it gets cold.” His smirk still plastered on his face made me want to gouge my own eyeballs out, but there was this part of me that felt attractive to this mysterious man who lives in an abandoned town. I make my way to sit down, looking up at him for approval to eat. As soon as I see the nod of his head I dig in, trying the meat and letting out as soft moan? Of delight. “Oh god that’s amazing, i haven’t had food like this in a long time.” I see him chuckle, shaking his head as he looks away before turning back towards me. “What kind of meat is this?” I swallow what’s in my mouth as he comes towards me, his eyes now dark with no emotion held in them. “Cat.”
I could feel my soul leave my body, a gag making it’s way up my throat. “What.. no it isn’t, stop lying.” I couldn’t feel anything but fear, my body frozen on the chair as I look up at him. “Your eating cat. To be specific, it’s your cat. What’s his name again? Oh yeah, wonnie.” The gag that was just making its way up my throat formed into vomit. I lean over the side of the chair, letting all the meat I just ate leave my system. The smell was pungent, hitting my nose with no hesitation.. I look up at Heeseung my eyes locking with him. This feeling of desire and attraction took over my whole body, feeling like I was possessed I had stood up face to face with heeseung. He looks down at me a blank expression on his face before he grabs my jaw pulling my head towards his.
I blank out for a moment feeling myself get lost in a void of darkness before a soft but eager pair of lips landed on mine. I move closer towards him, my arms wrapping around his neck as his hands keep a firm grip on my waist. I feel him bite on my lip, making me let out a gasp before he slips his tongue into my mouth, our teeth clashing together as saliva drips down our chins. I’m the first to pull away the feeling of hatred and disgust making me come back to my senses, he wipes the saliva from his chin before leaning his lips down near my neck. “You’ll always be mine.. I’m making sure of that now.” Before I can say anything I feel him bite down on my neck, a pained gasp leaving my mouth as I feel my soul slipping away. The last thing I can remember him saying before I went into a wave of darkness was, “I’ve waited so long for this moment Y/N.”
The end!
14 notes · View notes
adrenaline-whump · 1 year
Text
Fade to Sunrise
Summary: Cade wasn’t OK with dying, but he wasn’t really prepared to not die, either.
Context: Immediately after In the Wind, after the phone call that confirms Hank is OK.
This is all @redwingedwhump’s fault for saying nice things about my team dynamics.  :)
~~~
“First,” Donnie said, “Let’s run you by a hospital real quick to get checked out.” “First, we’re going to pick up Hank,” I said. Hank was in South Carolina without any way to get back to us, so we had to go get him. The plan was to meet him at the highway welcome center just past the state line. “We only need one car for that,” he said. “Alex can go get Hank, and we—” “It’s not like I’m bleeding out. I’ll be fine. I'll go later.” He gave me an exasperated look, but no way were they going to drag me to a hospital right then. I’d just talked to Hank, so I knew he was OK, but I needed to see him face to face. I don’t know why. I just did. The drive was pretty miserable, although that wasn’t Donnie’s fault. He asked me if I’d rather talk or listen to music, so I chose music. And then every other song seemed to be some guy smashing his guitar while screaming about not being OK. I could've asked to change to another station, I guess. But he might have asked why, and explaining felt like too much work.   I’d run out of energy a long time ago, burned through all of it waiting for Owen to finally get around to killing me. If I’d had any reserves, I’d burned through those too. And it just wouldn’t end. I felt hot and hollow, like the last log in a campfire, ready to collapse into sparks and ash. The longer we drove, the more scrapes and bruises woke up and started complaining. I started to rub my eyes and stopped when I saw the back of my hand was scraped to hell. When had that happened? I couldn’t remember. I remembered walking into the cabin. Nothing was out of the ordinary, or so I’d thought at the time. I watched the replay in my head, over and over, looking for where I’d screwed up. The door had been locked when I got there. I didn’t think I could’ve mistaken an unlocked door for a locked one. Then what? The light in the kitchen had been on. I’d assumed one of us had left it on, but I probably should’ve wondered, right? If I’d paused for one second and looked down the hall, maybe everything would have turned out differently, and I wouldn’t have come so close to getting Hank killed. What the fuck was I going to say to him?  There wasn’t an apology strong enough for the gnawing disgust that snarled my insides. “How you doing over there?” Donnie asked. “Fine.” “Of course.” He let out an exaggerated sigh. “That hurts my feelings, dude. Lying to my face like that. I thought we were friends.” “I’m lying to your face because we’re friends.” “Points for honest lying, I guess. Or lying honestly. You don’t have to be fine, but you do need to tell me if you feel sick or dizzy or something, in case I need to divert to the next hospital.” “OK.” He was keeping his curiosity to himself, I could tell. He was dying to ask what had happened, where I’d been, how everything had played out. He and Alex and Hank had spent too many stressful hours waiting and wondering what was going on. And now here I was, the guy with the answers. I watched the dark landscape scroll by the window. Talking about it would mean thinking about it, and I was already doing too much of that. We crossed the South Carolina border, and my heart started thumping harder. It wasn’t like Hank was going to yell at me. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him raise his voice. But whatever he’d gone through between when I walked away from him and now was my fault.
Too soon, a blue sign pointed us off the highway to a tidy little brick building with picnic tables on either side. Hank was sitting on a bench out front. As we pulled in, he stretched a little and stood up, like it was totally natural to be hanging out at an empty rest stop at 4:30 in the morning. Donnie pulled into the closest space and glanced at me expectantly.
I almost couldn’t get out of the truck. I felt sick again. Maybe that bump on the head would turn out to be a fatal head bleed after all. On the plus side, if I stood up and immediately passed out, I wouldn’t have to decide what to say. Unfortunately, I stayed conscious the whole time my feet got me out of the truck and walked me toward Hank. He seemed OK, as far as I could tell, though I couldn’t make myself look him in the eye. I took a deep breath as I stopped in front of him. “Hank, I—” “C’mere, buddy,” he said, and hugged me like he was my dad. I almost lost my shit. Again. All the apologies I’d set up in my head fell apart, and I just croaked fuck into his shoulder. And then said it a few more times, as my eyes burned and I tried not to drip anything on his shirt. He was there, solid and real, the same Hank as always, which meant that even though I’d still fucked everything up, it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. He finally let me out of the hug so he could look me over. “You look like shit,” he observed. “I know,” I said. “Listen, I’m...I’m sorry.” “Sorry for what?” He sounded honestly baffled. “We’re all going home, buddy, and that’s all I care about.” Back to Memphis. Familiar things. Normal things. Home. I didn’t know why it felt so disorienting, like being underwater and the surface isn’t where you thought it would be. He glanced at the brick building. “Want to run inside and wash up a little? The sinks have decent hot water.” Alone? It struck me as another strange idea. Free to just walk off by myself...that sounded good. Really good. And hot water sounded even better. ~~~ As Cade disappeared into the building, Donnie and Alex joined Hank. “Hey, guys. Thanks for coming down.” Donnie shook his head. “You know, I wasn’t a big fan of this plan...but I have to admit, you are looking remarkably not-dead.” Hank shrugged deprecatingly. “It’s a talent.” “Talent.” Alex’s deep voice had the slightest edge. “If any of us dived into shit expecting talent to get us out, what would you say?” “It could’ve been a bad call,” Hank said evenly, “but it was mine to make.” “Yeah.” Donnie rubbed his head. “But let’s not ever do that again, OK?”


“Agree.” Hank tilted his head at the building. “How’s he doing?” Alex and Donnie looked at each other. “Not great,” Alex said. “Yeah,” Donnie said. “He’s pretty fucked up.” “Did you take him anywhere?” Donnie snorted. “You know how he feels about hospitals. He says he’s not hurt that bad. But he can hardly move his left arm, he holds himself like he’s got a cracked rib or two, and he admitted he took a couple of skull taps, though he says he didn’t get knocked out. That’s physically. Mentally...” Donnie paused, uncharacteristically serious. “I’m not criticizing, just observing: if Owen had ventilated you, I think Cade would’ve lost his mind. He’s better now, but he’s still...not great.” “Well, he hasn’t slept, probably hasn’t eaten since lunch yesterday...” “Dehydrated,” Donnie said. “I don’t think Owen gave him anything that whole time.” “And then I sprang the trade on him. Lucky for both of us that it worked.” “For all of us,” Alex said. “It’s not like Donnie and me would’ve handled it any better.” Hank nodded. “Fair. The three of us can debrief after we get back. I’ll talk to Cade as we drive. Will you two head back to the cabin and bring our gear back to Memphis? We can sort out everything at the office.” “Will do. And you’ll head straight back?” “Mostly. That boy’s going to get checked out at a hospital if I have to frog-march him in there myself.”
19 notes · View notes
canary0 · 10 months
Text
June 25th - Dracula 2023
The morning light felt unspeakably beautiful this morning after yesterday’s events. That poor woman and child, and the one before, as well. Those women. Just… everything. With all of that, the sunlight seemed to light up my mind and heart like and a beacon and I felt a sudden drive. I need to take action while I have daylight.
I haven’t seen the Count during the day, and my problems always happen at night. The fact that the Count manipulated my sleep schedule to be awake at night seems all the more telling after everything. I have to assume that he also sleeps at night. I’d like to be able to get to his room to find out, but there’s no way.
… That’s not true, though, is it? There is a way. His way.
There’s no reason I shouldn’t be able to clamber down the walls. It’s risky – I don’t have his strength or… whatever else he has going on. I have four days left before the final letter date, though, so I don’t exactly have time to waste. I either die now or I wait around for the slaughter. I’d rather take my chances on the risk.
If I fail… Goodbye Mina. I love you more than words can say. Goodbye, Mr. Hawkins, my friend, mentor, and second father. Goodbye everyone.
I made it. I can hardly believe it.
I left my room via the window as soon as I was finished writing; I needed to go while the light was bright and bolstering my courage. There’s a narrow ledge around the building in and south, and unlike my room, that window doesn’t have bars. I was relieved to confirm what I’ve noticed before – the stones are large and rough, and the mortar has been washed pretty deep by rain and snow. Not great for structural integrity – and probably what happened to the broken walls I noticed higher up when I first arrived – but great for climbing. There were plenty of natural hand and footholds. I didn’t trust my boots to be able to fit the gaps, so I took them off to start my climb. I looked down once to make sure I wasn’t going to get vertigo and fall due to that, then hurried on my way.
It didn’t take long, and the window sill was wide enough that I could stand on it while I opened the window. I slid in, and, rather than the count, I found a room not unlike the one I found when I first encountered those women. It had a few odds and ends of things, but everything was covered in dust. It didn’t look lived in at all. There was no key around – hardly a surprise – but there was, of all things, a big pile of gold in the corner. Like everything else, it was dusty, and all of the coins looked incredibly old. I don’t know enough about coinage to be able to accurately date it, but it was in all sorts of languages of the surrounding regions, and the uneven stamping makes me think they must be at least a couple hundred years old.
There was a second door in there besides the locked one, and it led to a steep stairway that wound downward into darkness. I went carefully – the whole stairwell was only lit by medieval arrow slits. At the bottom was an arched masonry tunnel, and I could smell the scent of earth and death. I’ve never been interested in what putrescence smelled like, and if I never have to discover it again, it will be too soon.
I went down it, the smell intensifying as I went, and pull open a heavy, old door that was already partly cracked. The room beyond was something of a mystery. It was a chapel, of course, with its vaulted roof that was now broken and windows that must have been beautiful in their time. Now it seems to have been converted into a graveyard, complete with some old vaults in the back. Why would someone turn a chapel into the graveyard instead of having one outside of it, though? Why would the only entrance be that winding stairway? I even looked around the crumbling walls for an exit and there was nothing.
I did eye the broken ceiling and give some consideration to climbing the walls and using that as an escape, but the mortar wasn’t as bad inside, even with as little shelter as it has. Also of note, the boxes that had been brought in before were here now and filled with dirt from the graveyard/chapel. It explained the heavy scent of earth and rot I had picked up earlier.
I checked in the vaults for an exit, and while one just had dust and broken remains of coffins, the other contained another shock. In one of the now 50 boxes of dirt lay the Count. He was dead or asleep. His eyes were open, but they weren’t glazed over. His skin looked alive and lips were still very red. There was no breathing or pulse. The box’s cover was nearby, pierced with holes like a butterfly jar. I thought he might have the keys on him – no, he almost certainly did – but when I started to look, I caught his eyes. They hadn’t moved, yet the hate in them pierced me and I hurried off, back up here to my room.
I’m still breathing heavily as I write this. I need to think, but I can’t help but remember some advice I hard a long time ago – to always treat someone in a coma as if they can hear you.
(A/N: Happy Belated June 25th!
Sorry for the late posting!
Dating stuff is hard. Stoker. Be les confusing. My brain too dum.)
8 notes · View notes
thevillanonyan · 8 months
Text
The Rotwell Murders
Chapter 2:
Tumblr media
The South facing side of the Rotwell building had been cornered off by Deprac for the last week, none of us were allowed to train in our usual rooms which unfortunately meant sharing with the older kids.  
No one in the agency had taken the news well, not many people knew the victim, those who did said he was a respectable man. I remember sometimes seeing him before going out on cases, walking down the hallways enjoying the quiet empty building, he would sometimes glance over to us and smile, a confused smile, on occasion it looked like he was embarrassed. Only past agents tended to look at you like that; I wondered if he had talent when he was younger.  
The marketing branch of Rotwell was furious when they heard the news, how were they meant to convince the public that The Rotwell Agency are going to keep them safe when there are deaths happing in their own building. I heard talk of them pretending it wasn’t a murder and saying it was ghost touch instead, but they ultimately decided that would hurt their brand more. Going down the large steps at the entrance, one of the journalists had said that a murderer would make a nice change of pace from all the hauntings in the newspapers, personally I wasn’t convinced it would make the people of London feel any safer, especially since the police had very little power or presence compared to the years before the problem, but I guess they know what they’re doing.  
I has been working as a full-time agent for a year now, I went through the general training program and got picked out by the Rotwell agency. Most of the other kids from my area went to smaller agencies so I was seen as a golden child. That changed as I struggled to keep my place though, the other agents at Rotwell were very polished in their work and have a great drive to be the best, throughout the year I’ve seen my rank go down and down. When I first arrived, I was put on one of the top twenty teams (which is impressive for my age) but now I’ve been put on the substitute list. Until someone from a team gets registered too hurt or dead, I get drafted into a different team weekly to sort out very minor disturbances. All of this, being an extremely long way to explain why I find myself sitting alone during my lunch break (which really should be renamed breakfast, as for most agents it’s the first meal of the day). 
Back when I was in a team, we would take lunch together at the dinner hall. Most agents do this as it gives a place for us to talk to other people, gather useful information and show that we are united (as a team, but also as an agency). When you’re on the substitute list, you’re not as welcome in such spaces. In general, I take a walk during my breaks. Recently I’ve started going to The Rotwell Grounds (a fancy name for a graveyard of children) for my walk as less people go there (for obvious reasons) and no one goes during lunch hour, it feels strange to see it during the day, honestly daytime in general feels strange since I’ve started working. I’m so used to seeing things at night, most of the daytime is spent training and waiting for nightfall. Even during the winter, the sun makes everything feel too warm, there are also so many people everywhere, the noise of them is completely overwhelming. Agents are trained to keep as quiet as possible and fully alert with all of their senses at 100% the second it becomes dark, its no wonder I feel so out of place with the hustle and bustle of normal life.  
As per usual, I sat beside a grave marked ‘Elouise Martain’ to eat my sandwich, she was one of my friends when I first joined, I didn’t know her super well, but she was one of the first people I saw die on the job, so she always stayed prominent in my mind.  
I was three bites in when from my left side I heard the squelching of mud. Probably just someone else going for a walk I thought. No one else walks through here at this time though, I know that. I felt a sharp piece of metal collide with the side of my neck, dirty and rusted it cut though my skin. I was too slow to react, my agent senses had been dulled due to the time of day, if only it had been dark! I would have survived. Instead, right beside the first friend I saw killed, I was murdered. 
3 notes · View notes
fite-club · 2 years
Text
okay, i’m gonna talk about my own experiences for a second. this is not meant to invalidate the experiences of others, just to provide an alternate perspective. we have seen ample stories of asexual, demisexual, or graysexual people describing the alienation and otherness they felt during school and from their peers for not being sexual “enough”— what i want to discuss is how i felt those things as a hypersexual person, for being too sexual.
i was raised in the deep south of the usa, the “bible belt”, attending a private catholic school from ages 4-14. for most of my life i went to church twice a week. our self-expression was severely limited, and i got detentions constantly for wearing socks that were too short. the uniforms were very strict, and the bodies of little girls were treated like dangerous distractions. no shoulders, knees, or ankles could be visible, and no makeup or nail polish was allowed. one of the middle school teachers always said that no student needed to look like a prostitute. our “sex ed” was an animated movie from the 90’s where the moral of the story was, literally, i kid you not, “don’t have sex before marriage or you might die”. the messages i absorbed in my youth were that being sexual was unacceptable and that sex was something that should only happen between two married adult heterosexuals behind closed and locked doors. and, hell, my parents went through a divorce, so i didn’t even have any representation of healthy relationships let alone healthy sexuality. when i was 13 and had an orgasm for the first time after masturbating, i thought something terrible was happening to my body. i thought the reason i clenched my legs together was because i “wasn’t supposed to be doing it yet” (i hadn’t started my period). i believed for a long time that what i was doing was wrong and unnatural and that i was being punished, somehow, for doing it.
in high school i started dating for the first time. my friends and my parents disapproved. he was nerdy and not conventionally attractive. no one in my entire group of girl friends was dating or even really interested in dating. if they talked about boys, it was about rejecting them. when one of them actually did start seeing boys, she didn’t talk about it. probably for the same reasons i never talked about my boyfriend— those things were “private”, and we felt judged for not being “focused on school”. when i started sexually experimenting with my boyfriend, i told no one. we both lied to everyone about what we were up to. we both felt like, or in some senses knew, that what we were doing wasn’t acceptable. that it was wrong.
i can’t even get too into how me being trans and gay factored into this or i’ll be here all day. gay sex was a one-way ticket to eternal hellfire, and trans people were delusional sex offenders. gay men were dirty and perverted, and their PDA was not safe for children. if a trans person did exist, they certainly weren’t having any sex. a trans person could never be sexually desirable or attractive in any way. in fact, it’s hilarious that someone could be attracted to a trans person— obviously the only way that could happen is if the trans person was deceitful and tricked someone into thinking they were hot. LGBT was synonymous with corruption and damnation. do you see where i’m going with this?
i cannot stress enough the cultural undertone of “sluts are bad”. the guilt and shame that i felt for being horny, something very normal and natural, horribly affected my self esteem. my sexuality developed in strange ways because i had virtually no sex ed whatsoever, but was curious and had little parental supervision on the internet. i genuinely thought there was something wrong with me. i wondered if i had repressed memories of being sexually assaulted, or if i had some sort of sexual mental illness. i felt “broken”, or “alien”, or “wrong”. and i have spent the entire rest of my life unlearning those messages and healing my relationship with my own sexuality. it took me a long time to truly forgive myself for having feelings that were normal. to fully understand that i was not a morally bad person just because i wanted to sleep with people i wasn’t married to.
all of this is just to say that feeling “broken” is not something unique to asexuals or people on the “aspec”. of course i have sympathy for those who grew up feeling pressured to be sexual! i’m just saying that isn’t a universal experience, and it hurts to have my experiences be conveniently erased for the sake of making a point about “aphobia”. we did not all have classmates who bragged about the sex they were having, we did not all have parents who pressured us into dating, we did not all hear that “sex is important to your health”. acting as if everyone around the world was raised in the same environment as you is naive and self-centered. i once again stress that this is not directed towards aces simply speaking about their experiences, but rather towards aces/demis who frame their experiences as wholly unique and uniform. those who tell me that i can’t possibly know what it’s like to feel like you are different from everyone else, or that your body/brain is wrong. people who INSIST that the default/majority environment is one where sexuality is celebrated and a lack of sexuality is punished. plenty of us have suffered under purity culture! we do not have allosexual privilege! the feelings you had were real, but the world is bigger than you and your life.
26 notes · View notes
snowymav · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
summary: what should’ve happened before & after the fight with vecna in vol 2, a steddie shippers pov
warning: vol 2 spoilers!
Before
“Hey, guys, listen.”
“If things here start to go south, I mean, at all… You abort.”
“Okay? Draw the attention of the bats. Keep ‘em busy for a minute or two. We’ll take care of Vecna.”
“Don’t try to be cute or be a hero or something. Okay? You guys are just-”
“Decoys. Don’t worry. You can be the hero, Steve.” And maybe that's not what he meant. For just a second, Eddie let himself believe that maybe Steve wasn't just worried about Dustin or being the one guy to save Hawkins and that maybe, Steve wanted Eddie to be safe too.
“Absolutely. I mean, look at us. We are not heroes.” Steve had paused, before he moved to turn around and sure, Eddie might've been delusional, but he was not blind. He saw the way Steve looked at Dustin, looked at him. And Eddie just couldn't help himself, almost reaching out to pull Steve back.
“Hey steve…” There were a million things Eddie wanted to say in that moment, Dustin behind him, the others looking back at him. And Steve, well, Steve always looked… great. but right now, darkness surrounding him and a leather jacket thrown over his shoulders. If the end of the world wasn’t so near, Eddie might’ve called Steve gorgeous.
He was trying to come up with something stupid to say, to postpone the real reason for his outburst as Steve had begun to walk away. ‘Mordor sucks’ or ‘make him pay’ anything that meant not outting himself in front of the people that had become his friends in such a short amount of time.
“If we uh, you know, survive this whole demon wizard man.” Eddie coughed, looking back at Dustin for just a second, trying not to stay so focused on steve. “We should hang out, go see a movie or listen to music or maybe you could join us for a campaign one time? I sorta ended up making you a character but you could totally make a new one if you don't like him I just- I don't wanna die without telling you that i…”
Steve looked so expectant? Shocked even. Like he was waiting for the sun to come up behind Eddie. His eyes were wide and his mouth was pulled into a frown, but it didn't scream sadness. It was Dustin that had cleared his throat, breaking the silence. It was like Eddie's brain had been kickstarted after breaking down.
“You're a good dude, Harrington. I don't wanna die without telling you I care.”
“Eds?” That sounded good, really good, especially from Steve. He had moved, his hands on Eddie's shoulders and his face far too close. Eddie's head whipping back round from where he had been looking to his left, hair hitting Steve accidentally, going to apologise with his mouth wide. Steve had snorted, laughing with a small ‘it's okay’ as he looked at Eddie. “I get it, Munson. I care about you too, and not to be a nerd but I'd love to play sometime, and movies? I'll rent a good one when we get back and we can watch it at my place, tomorrow work for you?”
“Tomorrow? Yeah- tomorrow sounds great!” Eddie had choked on his words, surprised by Steve making plans so soon, he felt himself rock forwards on his feet, starting to bounce slightly.
“Tomorrow it is!” His hands had moved slightly, tangling themselves in Eddie's hair just for a second before Steve remembered why they were here and coughed awkwardly. It immediately got colder without him, but the small smile on Steve's face as he turned to leave was enough to make Eddie's cheeks heat up.
After
When the three of them had rushed down the stairs, bursting out of the door, Nancy and Robin had stood still, right in front of Steve, staring at the ground where Vecna had fallen. And Steve had pushed straight through them, running as fast as he could with the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. His chest had started to hurt before he even got past the playground. But he couldn't stop, no matter how much it burned. The only thing he could think of was Eddie, his name being screamed over and over in his head.
He had heard Eddie's cry, back at the house, and every time Steve's feet met the uneven ground he was reminded of the pain that struck him. He felt sick. The feeling only got worse when he saw Dustin sitting on the floor, Eddie laying still.
His knees had met the gravel harder than he had anticipated, stinging almost immediately, sliding over the dirt and pushing himself up to hold Eddie's face in his hands, “Munson? Eddie wake up!”
Dustin was crying, Nancy and Robin were shouting Steve's name and Eddie… Eddie wasn’t responding. “Everyone shut up!” He hadnt meant to sound so angry, but it had come out as more of a growl, as if it was gonna protect the man in his arms.
Steve found it almost laughable, how pretty Eddie looked with cuts on his face and blood covering his clothes and skin, hair sticking up out of his eyes. The upside down had fell silent as Steve checked Eddies pulse, and the tears that fell from Steve's eyes had been accompanied by a smile, “He's alive.”
Turns out Eddie really did get that movie with Steve. Top Gun, he had chosen. Eddie giggled as soon as it started, “Stevie, have you heard the rumours about Mav and Ice?”
11 notes · View notes
toongrrl-blog · 2 years
Text
Body Image 2021 in the Media
Tumblr media
We should all feel like Joan when we look in the mirror...
Okay so onetime I read this article and I thought: “Lovely lovely, but there is something about it that is bugging me...” Then it hit me that the representation wasn’t diverse in that article and I know 2021 had media depictions that would expand the conversation regarding body image. 
So here are my picks:
1. Never Have I Ever (Season 2)
It wasn’t the best decision Devi made when she blurted out that the new girl (and her fellow comrade as being the token Indian girls at their school) Aneesa, is recovering from an eating disorder that she picked up while at a all-girl’s prep school where she was the only Brown girl (and only Muslim at that) where she was ignored except when receiving positive feedback about her slim figure, thus triggering her disorder. 
Sadly WOC often are overlooked when eating disorders are discussed, in favor of privileged white girls (thin ones at that), and recovery is often presented as accessible and overnight. But Aneesa shows that even the most together person could be struggling with something and given how little her bites are, her ED habits don’t disappear overnight. It’s also important to note that Aneesa picked up her disorder in a high-stress (especially in academics), upper class environment where racism was in the air. Aneesa felt the pressure to fit in, her body was the only thing that gained some semblance of approval from her white peers, it made sense that she was determined not to lose it. 
That said: the series does a good job putting women of color (and their experiences) front and center. From the Indian American Devi (a flawed and relatable character played by newcomer Maitreyi Ramikrishnan), her Afro-Latina friend Fabiola (who refutes the Sassy Black Woman stereotype with her quiet nature and holds STEM interests and explores her lesbian identity), Chinese American Eleanor (who is loud, dramatic, loving, and bold in her presentation), the Indian American Aneesa (outwardly confident and easy-going), Devi’s grieving and strong-willed mother Nalini, and Kamala (Devi’s “perfect” cousin who starts to push back against the expectations put on her as a South Asian woman from both her family and her professors). 
2. Why Women Kill (Season 2)
Classism, Ableism, Fatphobia, Social Totem Poles, Prejudice. These issues are at the core of the characters who struggle with self-image or desirability in the second season of this (highly underrated) anthology series of the dramedy from Desperate Housewives creator Marc Cherry. The story centers on the seemingly meek and hapless “frump” Alma Fillcott (played by a drabed down Allison Tollman) who envies and wants to join the garden club presided over by the beautiful trophy wife Rita Castillo (Lana Parilla who ATE this role); Alma deals with a lot of slights her direction due to her appearance, despite the love of a devoted husband and a daughter (Dee, who is heavier than her mother and more fashionable and prettied up) while Rita deals with an elderly and abusive husband (who refuses to die) that throws her former life as a sex worker in her face. We learn that Alma was cheated on by her high school boyfriend at senior prom for a thinner and more glamorous girl, Detective Vern (Rita’s detective and Dee’s eventual husband) dealt with being dumped after a disfiguring injury he gotten in World War II (did I mention this story was set in 1949?), Dee puts up with men who only see her in secret due to her weight, and Rita came from a poor family that was regarded as dirt by members of the community she grew up in and ended up in a physically abusive marriage until her cousin shot the guy (sadly turned out to be still alive) before being in her current one. Through the Garden Club, we see how social privilege and prejudice can be weaponized to climb up on the necks of other members (basically hierarchies are very predatory). 
3. The Baby-Sitters’ Club (Season 2)
Back when the original book series came out in 1985, Stacey McGill made history as a character with a chronic health condition/disability (Diabetes) whose character wasn’t defined by her illness. She was glamorous for girls her age, sophisticated and somewhat mature, she was pretty as a model, boys liked her (currency in middle school), the kids she babysat adored her, she had well-coiffed and fashionable blonde hair, she was super good at math; she was proof that a person with a chronic condition/disability could be relatable, natch, even aspirational. 
The sadly now defunct Netflix series updates the story and goes further, with Stacey; showcasing how social media and the shame projected upon by a parent can hurt a child. Instead of pricking her fingers, Stacey has a insulin pump that her Mother (at first) wants her to conceal, therefore making the girl feel she needs to be ashamed of her appearance and while she was harassed at her old school for fainting at lunch and missing school and wetting the bed at a sleepover, Stacey had a seizure in the lunchroom that was filmed by a classmate. Therefore Stacey endured her shame going viral online (this goes hand in hand with Monica Lewinsky’s story as she details in 15 Minutes of Shame and in our last entry of this post) and after moving to Connecticut, has to revisit it there too where parental skepticism (unconscious ableism) even forces her and her friends to defend her competence and skill as a babysitter. That same season also sees Stacey live life as usual, being boy-crazy and babysitting her charges before she confronts one of her former tormentors at summer camp, gifting some catharsis despite the result of poison ivy.
Season Two sees Stacey with bickering parents and struggling to reconcile her image of a young person positively managing her condition with the ambivalence she feels about her disability, especially when she tells a friend (a talented ballerina) that she envies the girl’s body for being able to make these elaborate and demanding movements while Stacey has to work hard to make sure her body functions regularly. 
Stacey’s storyline showcases a disabled character who is a full person in her own right, with the important caveat that if you can’t reach body positivity, body neutrality is just as sufficient. 
4. Encanto.
I have problems with this movie and many of it’s characters; that said, lets get into the good, the bad (well how it depicts the bad with some awareness), and the not really “unspecial” on what this film says about body image. 
Good: FIrst, the family and the villagers showcase a mixture of skin colors, body types, sizes, shapes, heights, hair textures without depicting one or the other as worse or better; facial features are brought into the mix with the large noses of Abuela Alma, Pepa, Bruno, and Isabella, Indigenous and African and Mestizo and European features are in the mix, Mirabel is a young woman with a short-ish, “average” body type with a wide nose and curly hair while older sister Luisa is depicted as muscular and feminine.
The Depiction of the Bad: The film depicts (subtly) how beauty ideals can poison family relations, especially who is the most pressured or ignored. Abuela Alma ignores/disrespects her average-build and regular-cute with wide nose and curly hair and bespectacled Mirabel while forcing the muscular and large Luisa to be a workhorse and Dolores to be used as a snitch despite being as pretty and slender as Isabella with her long, straight/wavy hair. Let’s not get into how Mirabel’s lack of powers can be an allegory for disability, something that society has used as an excuse to dehumanize and see as “surplus”, and sadly an attitude that hasn’t gone away (environmental fascism and straws). I also wanna look at how Luisa’s body marks her as a workhorse who gets no rest or relaxation (not even on her cousin’s ceremony or sister’s engagement dinner) by her grandmother and that raggedy ass village while Isabella gets to be the ornament and how Isa getting her “imperfect” white blossoms plucked by Abuela after she stresses out stands in for the many times that women, like myself, could be doing or talking about anything but the focus is still on our looks rather than our substance. 
Not Really “Unspecial”: The film points out, like The Breakfast Club did 36 years before, it’s a grave mistake to reduce people to “the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions”. Luisa is more than the muscle, she is a sensitive and loving person who needs a rest; Mirabel lacks magic powers but she is a loving and devoted girl (too devoted, I say) with talents in parkour and fashion design; Isabella is more than the beauty queen, but is a creative agriculturalist; and Bruno is a loving man who keeps it real and a creative who acts out plays with his rats. 
5. Spencer.
A jarring and beautifully creative look at a woman struggling with her eating disorder and her dying marriage under the weight of in-laws who don’t respect her boundaries and see her as just a ornamental broodmare. We see Princess Diana in the final days of her marriage as she experiences the Christmas Holiday at Sandrigham where the family is ceremonily weighed before and after the festivities, the movie left me breathless, like texts I read for Women’s Studies classes in college and plus we need more car scenes like this in the cinema again. 
6. American Crime Story: Impeachment.
Monica Lewinsky is my dream wifey. She is also someone who dealt with having her sexuality and body bashed and demeaned in the media either as a grotesque for her fluctuating voluptuous figure (this was the age of heroin chic) or as a girl with more looks and breasts than brains or a venomous femme fatale. 
Monica’s struggle can be tied to the trope of The Bombshell, who is either adulated for her beauty (like Bill Clinton and Linda Tripp did when meeting her) or treated like an animal for her sexuality (the media fallout and how her ex lover and ex friend betrayed her); like I feel so angry for Monica to the point I wanna fight Bill, Linda, Ken Starr, David Letterman, and Jay Leno. Like I am mad that Monica, young and gorgeous and educated was raked over the coals so hard. Like people acted like she wasn’t it, then again those folks thought Hillary wasn’t hot enough for Bill (NEWSFLASH: From what I saw some Gen Z thought young Hillary looked like Sabrina Carpenter, who is Disney Star pretty, while Bill is meh in presentation); how could they see Monica with that broad, gleaming smile, those soft cheeks, the babylike skin, the long and thick shiny hair that was the hottest thing to have in the 90s, the square jawline that made Brooke Shields launch a standard of beauty that lasted more than a decade, the full lush lips that no amount of collagen injections could replicate, the green eyes with the dark lashes, symmetrical face that fit most Western standards of beauty, and the curvaceous figure with breasts and hips and everything....but she was made to feel bad about those features because she grew up in Beverly Hills where (as Mo’Nique said) they prefer knitting needles with boob jobs to hourglasses and pears. Let’s not get into how every woman in Bill Clinton’s orbit was look shamed in the media: maybe his Momma, Hillary, Chelsea, Betty Currie (like Linda was portrayed in drag on SNL, but funny we don’t get much shine on that), Monica, Paula Jones (despite being one half of Ugly Guy, Hot Wife, was shamed into a nose job), Linda Tripp (hack hack hack), Janet Reno. 
As an aside, as much as I loathe the late Linda Tripp (my TikTok could be considered a Linda Tripp Hate account), the mocking of her looks skewed as fatphobic and transmisogynistic. We can talk about what a shitty person she was and make fun of her without throwing marginalized people under the bus, people. Plus she is a look at how the Plain Jane type can have the potential of churning her bitterness over rejection into directing it at other women, especially prettier women. Hurt people, hurt people and I believe that Linda was a Karen of the highest order, a lady in waiting to Carolyn Bryant and a DUFF to Yolanda Salvidar with Phyllis Schlafly’s raggedy weave. 
I was a kid then and I wondered what pretty Monica, who looked like a movie star had to do with the President. Good thing I didn’t know how bad it was, would’ve made me wanna die. I’m so happy she is telling her story, which is why we are all here today.
Now I think we need to end this post with this bop to carry out your day
youtube
8 notes · View notes
writteninsunshine · 2 years
Text
Very Good Bad Thing - Michael/Firkle Smith - NSFW
Tumblr media
Title: Very Good Bad Thing
Author: Keith
Fandom: South Park
Setting: Unspecified
Pairing: Michael/Firkle Smith
Characters: Michael, Firkle Smith
Genre: Romance/Erotica
Rating: M
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 480
Type Of Work: One-Shot; Short Smutfic Challenge #1
Status: Complete
Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, MLM, Transmasc Character, Firkle is Transmasc, Age Gaps, Oral Sex, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, A/B/O Dynamics, AU - Omegaverse, Alpha!Michael, Omega!Firkle
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.
Summary: For so long, Michael hadn't even thought about it. He was glad that Firkle had never felt the same.
AN: Hey guys, it’s me again! Just thought I ought to say, if you want vague updates and to talk to me more, I have a writing Tumblr, too! Twitter is Sunshinecackle, and Tumblr is Writteninsunshine! I also have a writing Discord that is currently pretty dead. xD If you want it, please contact me on Twitter!
Alright, so, I’ve decided I want to do some little 500 words or less erotic challenges, see if I can’t write some things that are short but nice. I hope that these turn out well, and if you’re disappointed with the length, you can always request that I add to it! I’d love to add to fics someone requested I add to!
I hope you all enjoy it!
South Park Fic Masterlist
Very Good Bad Thing
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Honestly, Michael couldn’t have had a better partner, not one that knew him better than this one. Firkle was all he could have hoped for in a lover, someone who listened, cared, and could keep up with his sexual appetite. As much as he had other lovers, and he was fairly good at that, he would always come back for Firkle, to Firkle, would do anything for Firkle.
And Firkle was just the same.
That pretty mouth turned into a full smirk, both sides of his mouth turning up in a rare smile after a moment and he leaned forward to lick the head of Michael’s cock. Oh, that was his absolute favorite sight, for sure, Firkle smirking and grinning at him as he sunk down his dick.
“That little smirk you do before you go down on me?” Michael purred, eyelids fluttering, “Mmm~ I love it.” 
The younger goth wiggled his hips a little, waving his ass in the air, before finally dropping all the way down to rest his lips in the neat nest of curls at the base of Michael’s prick. He couldn’t help himself, he wanted to hear that hitch in the Alpha’s breath, the little whine he gave in the back of his throat when he bottomed out in Firkle’s throat. 
Michael may have liked when Firkle smirked before going down on him, but Firkle loved whenever those wordless pleas left his lover; It always made this so much better, even if he adored giving head in the first place.
When Firkle finally pulled off of him, slurping softly at the head and licking along the crown, curious eyes glanced up at him, large blue pools with blown pupils only making Michael’s hips twitch.
“I love the look you give me when you go down, too… You’re beautiful. An atrocious Adonis.” Firkle whispered, his breath fanning out along the other’s cock. Michael shivered, pushing a hand through Firkle’s hair and tugging it lightly, pushing his head down and earning a soft, tender smile. He loved that look whenever Firkle let him see it.
“You’re such a beautiful, dangerous thing. I love having you on my cock anytime you want.” That was the closest he could get to saying ‘I love you,’ and they both seemed to know that. Firkle even accepted it, unlike Pete.
“I’m always happy to be on you, whether it’s my mouth or elsewhere. I adore being around you all the time.” Firkle admitted, licking at the head again as Michael hummed. Even if Michael didn’t know he was there, he loved to be there with him.
“And I, you… Now, why don’t you finish what you started?” Michael chuckled. Firkle’s grin made his heart flutter, his stomach pulling tight shortly after as Firkle stroked what wasn’t in his mouth, keeping his lips tight around the head. Michael could die happily, now.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
AN: Alright, yeah, it’s short, but I wanted to write something somewhat smutty and small, just some little dirty vignette. I’ve been having a lot of fun writing big projects but something smaller is always easier to get out sooner. I hope you all enjoyed it!
Prompt: “That little smirk you do before you go down on me? Mm.”
2 notes · View notes
cherryeol04 · 1 year
Text
Action! | Ch. 24
Tumblr media
Genre: Humor, Romance, Slice of life?, Crackheadedness
Pairings: BaekRen, MinRon
Work Count: 2.7K
Summary:  From the moment he was casted, Ren wasn't sure if he had what it would take to be a pop idol. Losing faith in himself, he was going to give up the future he had always wanted, but one person stood by his side and renewed his faith. After a hot debut and rapid growth of stardom, Ren started to notice that maybe this person, his close friend, was something more. But how could a straight man even remotely think of a homosexual relationship?
Warnings: Homophobia, some smut (chapters will be marked)
A/N: I wrote this series back in 2012 and used OCs and over the top writing style for arguments. Whoops. Lmao it’s pretty decent though, so I hope you enjoy!
↶Previous     Next↷
Tumblr media
Ren’s POV
I know I’m being a burden on these people, and I hate it. My hyungs are so nice though, accepting me into their dorm, feeding me. I never meant to be gone for so long, but I just can’t go back. Baekho would be there and he’s probably so happy with Uee noona. Which I’m happy for him, I just wish he didn’t have to rub it in my face like he had.
That’s what hurt the most.
Days turned into weeks and every day I got a call either from Minhyun, JR, or Aron, all begging me to come back. But never from Baekho. The piercing pain I felt at the end of each day as I laid down to sleep, knowing that once again, the call was never going to come, I honestly thought I would die each and every time. I sleep horribly, I feel horrible, and I must look horrible. I suppose that’s why the other’s forced me up, dressed and literally dragged me from the home.  Why couldn’t I just stay and mope around some more?
Adrian-hyung was no fun.
~*~
Staring up at the large planetarium, I was in awe. I never knew one even existed, yet alone resided in South Korea. This was going to be interesting to say the least. It was certainly something I haven’t gone to before. Looking back, I stared at the others who were sharing my same awe.
“It’s bigger than I thought.” Kai said and laughed softly.
“Everything’s bigger than you think.” Chiko muttered with a pout. “Just like our last dinner you ordered fed all of us and the staff.”
“Hey! It’s not my fault!” he protested with a shake of his head.
“Alright children.” Adrian spoke, wrangling in his dongsaes. “Let’s go.” Walking into the building, we were greeted by such eerie silence that panic grew inside me. I looked around carefully, even over my shoulders. It was something straight out of a horror film. I liked horror and all that, but not when I had to be a part of it.
“Where is everyone?” I asked, noticing just how empty it was inside.
“I have no clue.” Adrian said and frowned. “In fact, all I got this morning was this letter telling us to be here. It was signed ‘A Friend’.” He explained and pulled the letter from his pocket. JaeMin took the letter and read it over briefly before sighing.
“It’s probably like some sort of hidden camera variety show.”  JaeMin said.
“Then why am I here?” I asked as I stared at them.  They all looked at me as if they just realized I was there. I don’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Probably bad considering the fact that they just realized I wasn’t even a part of their group, yet I was brought anyway and no one even mentioned that I shouldn’t go in.
“Uh….” They were all at a loss for words. I don’t blame them, I felt the same way.
“Hey look.” We turned and watched as Kouji moved over to a welcome table a picked up an envelope titled ‘For Ren’. “I think this really isn’t for us.” He said.
“Apparently.” Adrian said as he walked over, took the envelope and opened it. Pulling out the thick card, he read it over. “For all the pain he caused, for all the days you’ve been a way, there will be many more to make up for them.” He read. “Within this building, there are three special locations you need to visit. Each will give you a clue to where you need to go next until you’ve reached your final destination. Your first clue ‘He has to be from another planet.’ Mission start!” he read before snorting.
“Oh boy, they need new writers.” Kai said with a smirk.
“So this is all…for me?” I asked, confused. Why would they do this? From the sounds of the letter, it seems that my friends are trying to cheer me up and get me to go back home. But I don’t want to. Not if Baekho is going to be there and continues to act like he does. A part of me is actually hoping though, that this is Baekho’s way of asking for forgiveness; that this whole thing was orchestrated by him. But I don’t want to get my hopes up. I doubt it is.
“Looks like it.” Adrian said and smiled. It was a knowing smile and I had to wonder if he had a hand in all this.
“Oh a quest! Sounds like fun! Let us help?” Chiko asked.
“No, we can’t help.” Adrian said. “This is for Ren, let him do it.” He said and nodded.
“Aw poo.” Chiko pouted cutely and we laughed. He was a maknae for a reason after all.
I sighed. Alright, looks like I’m on my own for this. No worries though, I’ve done many variety shows like this. I can solve this and figure out what’s going on too. “Okay, the first clue is ‘He has to be from another planet’. Who would be from another planet?” I asked myself. There was JR, but he wasn’t crazy. There was Aron, but he wasn’t that crazy. It certainly isn’t Baekho and if this was done by him, he wouldn’t be the first clue, so then…Minhyun? Realization slowly came to me. Minhyun was a bit out there, even when he was trying to be straight and narrow. He was silly really. So it’s Minhyun I’m looking for but how do I find him?
‘Okay Ren think. Whenever we tease Minhyun we say he’s an alien. And I know we’ve even said which planet he was from, so which planet? Which planet was it?’ Even though there wasn’t a time limit, I felt extreme pressure. We always joked about Minhyun being from the planet...?
‘Jupiter! That’s right, it’s the largest planet in our solar system, next to the sun of course. Because Minhyun is so tall, we tease him he came from the largest planet in the solar system because they made their aliens tall there.’ Alright, alright, so now I knew where to go. I looked around the lobby for a moment before finding the blaring map kiosk. Making my way over, I searched for any room or floor that had anything to do with Jupiter.
“Let’s see.” I said, running my fingers through the different rooms and after a while I finally found it. “Third floor!” I announced happily. Alright! I did it!
“Good then go.” Adrian said and shooed me off towards the elevators. With a grin I stepped in and pressed the ‘3’ button and the doors slid shut. I was nervous and excited at the time. I loved playing games, but what awaited me at the end is what was nerve-racking.
When the doors opened, I stepped out and looked around. Images were hung all through the small hall, all of the planet Jupiter. Most included facts and information about it. Turning to my right, I started down, looking for Minhyun. The other was my clue, the person I was supposed to find, and with him being so damn tall, it shouldn’t be too hard to find him.
The hall opened up into this large room and right in the middle of it stood a large statue of the planet Jupiter and standing in front of it was a smiling Minhyun. I walked over to him, grinning and he pounced, wrapping me up in his arms, squeezing me.
“Minki!” he said happily and I was sure I heard tears in his voice. “I’ve missed you so much.” He said. When he let go of me, we pulled back and I stared at him. My heart broke seeing my best friend crying like that. I hated knowing I was the one who was making him cry like that.
“Minnie.” I said and hugged him again, rubbing his back. “I’ve missed you too.” I told him and pulled back. “After this is done, maybe we can hang out?” I asked.
“Of course!” Minhyun said happily. “We have so much to catch up on!” he told me before handing me the card. “Have fun alright? I’ll see you at the end!” he said.
I nodded and watched him walk off before sighing. It was so good to see my friend once again. I hadn’t meant to cause them so much pain by leaving. Maybe soon things could go back to slightly normal and I could return home.
Looking at the card, I turned it over and read the back. “He speaks alien better than our language.” I laughed at that simple clue. It was easy to know who it was referring to. Aron still had trouble speaking our language, even after being here for so many years. And I knew he was from the planet Mars because Mars was the ‘real’ planet that had aliens speaking weird tongues coming from.  Finding the map on the floor, I searched until I found which floor Mars was on.
Getting back on the elevator, I headed up to the fourth floor. One would think this building would be ordered according to positions of the planets in the solar system, but apparently it wasn’t. When the doors opened, I stepped out and was greeted instantly by Aron, who drew me into a bear hug. I laughed and returned it, glad to see the other.
“Damn Minki.” He whispered as he pulled back and looked me over. “Still sexy as ever, don’t change.” He said. I blushed hotly at his comment and smacked him lightly.
“Stop it!” I said and smiled at him.
“Never.” He said before handing over the card. “I hope you come home soon, it’s not the same without you. We’re not the same without you.” He said.
“Maybe…one day soon.” I said, a little unsure.  He nodded and hugged me once more before turning and walking off to go join Minhyun, wherever he was. Sighing, I flipped the card over and read the next clue.  “When he’s at his best, his passion shines brightly like this star.” I frowned. Well it was either JR or Baekho and though I was hoping I would see Baekho next, I was pretty sure it wasn’t him. In fact, I was almost sure he wasn’t a part of this. He had Uee noona, why would he need to be here? Even if it was his entire fault.
So then it was JR and it was the sun that was the brightest star in the solar system, the one that burned the most. So after finding the map and locating the Sun room, I headed up to the ninth floor. When the doors opened, I wasn’t ambushed like last time. Instead, I actually had to wander around a bit. It wasn’t a large room like Jupiter.  Everything known about the sun was very little. I was going to give up, not sure if I would ever find JR. After walking around the corner of the hall into a smaller room, I found him standing next to the window.
“JR.” I called as I walked over to him. He turned to me and a grin spread across his face. He waited until I was close enough before hugging me.
“Minki. I’ve missed you.” He said. I almost cried at that. All my friends had missed me and I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t think I was honestly that important to them. But I was and that made me feel so loved inside. So maybe I didn’t need Baekho. Sure, having the other love me would have been wonderful, but I had friends that loved me just the same, that should be enough for me. And well…it was going to be enough for me. After this, I am going home!
“I missed you too.” I said and smiled at him as I pulled back. “Can I have the card please?” I asked.
“Sure.” He said and handed it to me. But he didn’t let go. Instead, he held tight and stared into my eyes. “Minki, Nu’est is not the same without you. We can’t go on. Please…come back. We need you more than you’ll never know.” He said. It was the leader talking, trying to keep all his members together, but at the same time I knew it was my friend talking, wanting us to be back together and whole once more.
“I know.” I said and nodded. “Very soon…I’ll be back home.” I told him. He nodded and released the card, and with a pat on my shoulder, left me alone too. Smiling to myself, I flipped the card and read it, my breath leaving me.
“He didn’t know what he had until it ran away. He didn’t know what he needed until it was told to him. Now he needs his Minki back and in his life. Under the planet signifying love, you’ll find him.” I had to take a few breaths. Baekho…was he really here? Did he really need me? I wasn’t sure, and I knew I should have been more cautious. I had been hurt once, I didn’t need it again. But damn it if I couldn’t help it. After finding the map to find out what floor Venus was on, I bypassed the elevator and took the stairs.
Taking them two by two, I ran up to the eleventh floor, which thankfully wasn’t that far up from the sun. Slamming opening the door, I looked around frantically, searching. I ran through the whole hall and room, but I didn’t see him. Baekho wasn’t there. My heart broke once more and I felt like crying and I almost did.
All this, for nothing.
I was heading for the elevator when I heard soft music coming from a closed door. It was a room I hadn’t checked before.
Maybe?
Moving to the door, I pushed it open and stepped in. Romantic music was playing and hearts lit up all around the walls of different colors. And in the middle of the room hung the planet Venus and underneath it was…
“Baekho.” I whispered.
“Minki.” He said and smiled at me. “I’ve missed you.” He said. My heart was suddenly healed and bursting with joy. I’ve never felt this happy in my life, not even when I was picked to become a trainee. I ran to him and threw my arms around him. I was a bit worried he would be caught off guard and we would go tumbling down, but we didn’t. He caught me and held me tight in his arms, his face pressing against my neck.
“I’m so sorry Minki.” He whispered. “I was such a dumb idiot. I should have realized sooner just how important you are to me.” The tears fell from my eyes this time. I couldn’t hold them back. I was just so damn happy.
“It’s okay. I forgive you.” I knew I shouldn’t have forgiven him so easily, but I couldn’t stop myself. Here was, in front of me, holding me again. He had planned this whole thing, just for me. How could I not forgive him? He pulled back and stared down at me, grinning.
“I’m glad you do. I was a fool and I’m sorry.” He apologized once more. “Minki, I love you.” The squeal left me before I could contain myself. Those words were ones I have longed to hear for so long now. And he said them. Baekho finally said them!
“You fool!” I said and tapped the side of his head lightly. “I love you too.” The arms tightened around me, pulling me closer. Soft lips pressed against mine. This was our first kiss and it was magical! I stood there, clinging to him, pressing to him, returning his kiss with such passion, never wanting it to end. And though I heard the cheers of the others who were watching us, I could have cared less. The world faded away from around us and all that was left was Baekho and I and the kiss we were sharing.
This is how it should have been all along. And though I wished this would have happened months ago, I was glad it happened now. I knew our future was bright. I was coming home and going to be Baekho’s boyfriend.
Nu’est was back!
0 notes
adamnvamp · 2 years
Text
i’ve kept you like an oath
what: what happened after the bite. when: june 2022 warnings: blood
New things were usually exciting, but this wasn’t.
It was completely different from when he first died, when he first became a reaper. Back then, Adam felt nothing for the longest time - now he felt everything.
When he woke up Adam was in his own bed, his skin was buzzing. He could feel the static energy of the sheets, hear the faint rumble of his coffee maker in the kitchen, With a deep breath, the man tried to sit up, and it was like his body finally had realised he was alive.
The pain in his chest came back, now followed by an all consuming emptiness.
Hunger.
“Don’t even try to get up“ he heard Samuel’s voice, the vampire glaring at him as he walked into the room, a bloodied rag on his hand. Adam’s eyes went straight to the bandage on his arm and the man waved his hand, dismissively “One thing at a time. Mind telling me how you blinked into existence, almost dead, into my lap? Was that a deal with a demon that went South or-“
He was cut off by an agonizing sound that pierced right through Adam’s ears. The man screamed and twisted in the bed while Samuel rushed to the bedside table, sending the call on his phone straight to voicemail.
“My bad, I should have put that shit on silent before, but I didn’t know your password“ He shrugged apologetically and then it clicked.
Devon.
---
The first few days were some of the worst of Adam’s life.
It took all the strength he had to refuse the plastic bag Samuel brought, the A+ printed on the side of it making him nauseous at the same time it made his mouth water. They had settled for pig’s blood then, which Samuel would bring him in his usual mug, making it almost sinful to drink, yet homey.
It took him a day to be able to sit up, and three for the piercing pain in his chest to go away. Samuel explained that when he appeared Adam had a hole in his chest, one the former reaper remembered faintly getting back when he first died, and he was bleeding to death. Not wanting him to die (or even questioning how that would be possible), the vampire bit him then, following the same treatment that was once done to him.
Turning Adam.
---
Adam was literally unable to pick up the phone at first. The light in the screen was too bright, the sound of the ringtone was too loud.
By Thursday he was already moving around the house, the hole in his chest now just a scar right above his heart. But when his phone rang again he couldn’t pick up.
What would he even say?
Devon didn’t know about the supernatural, he couldn’t just tell him, through the phone like this. On Saturday Adam found himself typing messages, but nothing ever seemed right.
Hey, I’m sorry I was away, I had a problem
I had some health complications
I had to leave the city
I had to go
I love you
But every single one was erased and never sent.
---
“You know, I didn’t change you so you could be a coward, Adam”
“It isn’t that simple”
“The guy likes you, he’ll understand”
“Didn’t you tell me you killed your girlfriend the moment you saw her after you were turned?”
Samuel sighed “Those were different times”
“Not a chance” Adam shook his head “Devon’s safety is not negotiable.”
He sat back on his bed, sighing.
If it wasn’t for his newly found stamina, he’d say he was tired. In reality, Adam was scared. Mentally exhausted, yes, but also terrified. Before, it was a hundred year long contract, he could just live for one more generation or two, now?
This was forever.
It also meant he’d have to leave Devon.
Which he couldn’t bring himself to do.
“You could start long distance? I’ve heard it works for some people“ Samuel tried to cheer him up, sitting by his side on the bed, wrapping his arm in a half hug as they stayed quiet for a moment, back turned to the window.
To the mirror Adam still hadn’t had the courage to look at.
He was supposed to laugh at that, but he couldn’t bring himself to either.
“He’ll think I’m ghosting him“
“Which is very on brand for a reaper, don’t you think?“
He tried once more and Adam rolled his eyes. There were sounds around but he couldn’t really tell what they were (he had asked Samuel at least a dozen times by now if there was someone in his house when in reality he was just hearing a heartbeat of someone walking down the street), so he didn’t question it.
“It’s nothing you can’t explain“ Samuel tried again “Just tell him your phone broke" He said, then added “And that your leg broke too so you couldn’t go to his house. It’s simple.”
Adam sighed.
“I’ll have to tell him the truth”
“Or that” Samuel shrugged “That could work, he can either be into it or send you to the looney bin - it’s a 50 / 50 really”
“Or he might never want to see me again”
They stayed quiet for another minute before Samuel clicked his tongue, getting up. “You can start by saying Oh did I tell you I’m a vegan now?”
Adam groaned “Samuel, that doesn’t mean what you think it means.”
1 note · View note