#This was defiantly last minute when I decided to do this >v<''' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-slasher-files · 3 years

Text

Affection

INCLUDES MICHAEL

I have gotten a few different requests for a softer more affectionate side of Michael so I decided to put them together and create this, a longer (almost 2k words) descriptive drabble about showering with Michael. All this talk about getting Michael to shower and what his hygiene is like had me thinking lol... Now this is deeply inspired by @slasherholic and their writing style, of course I made it my own but it is defiantly a nod to them :) Thank you for your asks and requests!.. hope you enjoy 🔪💕

MASTERLIST

There was a sting on your cool soft skin as you stepped into the blazing stream, raining down from the old head above. Through gritted teeth you bared your head back allowing the water to soak you, down your hair, trailing every muscle in your shoulders and back. Burning your flesh with a pleasent tingle from the contrast of temperatures as you had just been outside on a walk, the autumn wind was sharp kissing your face and seeping into your bones. Closing your eyes you calmed completely around the hot water, tension ebbed from your muscles and your jaw; it had been a long day, and you could not have needed this more.

Steam flowed off your skin and out the top of the curtain like soft clouds, painting the mirror and sweating on the tiles, finally reaching the cracked door and seemingly disappearing into the night. Soft hands ran through your hair pushing away the water along the edges of your face, pooling beneath your feet and draining with quiet gurgles.

The placid air had suddenly changed as you heard the shower curtain pull along the metal rod, screeching at the force; you did not open your eyes for you knew exactly who it was. The smell of iron, rich dirt and a firm musk coating the air, almost battling with the steam and the fresh smells of your body wash. The curtain superseded it’s own path with the same screech and crinkles, a large, mysterious presence appeared in front of you, out of the steam that seemed to billow around him.

Opening your eyes you met his; one brown, dark and deep with a slight hint of yellow around the iris, outlined like black ink. The other scarred; a dull shade you could never decide if it was more blue or more grey, it reminded you of a thunderstorm approaching, devouring any bright sky and coating the blue in dark streaks and shadows, while his scar was in the shape of a catastrophic bolt of lighting, forking and brutally tearing through the iris; Much like the shape, a force of nature, leaving destruction in it’s wake.

Michael just watched you with a look you could never place, and sometimes you just didn’t want to know what that look meant, it was a mystery, like him; never solvable, never predictable, dangerous, and so beautiful in the hidden detail all at once. Loving this gaze was a curse and a privilege. You were one of the only people who ever got to meet these forceful eyes, see the detail in them and live. Perhaps that was his affection.

He stood in front of you naked, watching the water run in a thousand streams down your features. Drippling down the ends of your hair into your rosy nipples, cascading down your stomach breaking into different paths; some glistening your sex while others flowed down your legs, meeting every tendon and mark your lover had made. Your eyes watched his as they surveyed the trails of wetness blanketing your smooth skin, it was like he was almost trying to remember where the water flowed and broke away, almost envious of the streams that got to touch you with such care and tenderness. Michael could never do the same. You both knew that, and you had accepted that long ago.

Towering above you he took an easy step forward, making you step back a little allowing him to have some heat from the water as well. Michael’s deep rich curls were now painted black, sticking to his forehead tracing the scars he wore, and now settling easy on his muscular neck. His eyes closed for a moment as you wondered if he had felt just the same soft pleasure of stepping into the torrid flow. The steam had started to make piece with the man and it swelled off his broad toned shoulders like a smoke stack into the cool air.

Michael's angular jaw eased and his shoulders fell ever so slightly; to the normal person they would never notice such subtleties, but you had become trained to watch for the smallest give aways in his body. It was the only indicators he would give you; dropped shoulder were relaxed and he was comfortable, hardened eyes and a slight twitch in his wrist meant nothing good, but over time you became aware. Sometimes too aware, but you had been molded to his liking. This is what he wanted, this was his artistry, a slight fear constantly in your heart right behind the muscle. This was loving Michael and you accepted it through and through.

The vail of his baroness and tension billowed away with the steam, he was at ease, and he allowed you to see this. Perhaps the shape genuinely trusted you, or maybe it was just him knowing you could never do serious damage to his imposing body. Michael was like a brick wall and no matter how many nights you wailed on him or tried to hurt him blood was never drawn, just your own.

Small hands slowly fell upon his shoulders, every movement he watched carefully, but there was not the usual harness to his stoney eyes. Creeping your fingers into his drenched locks, slow circles and light pressure along the top of his neck made him melt inside; and there it was, the trust, he had closed his eyes accepting the pleasure. Feeling the tough muscles under your fingers ease, you moved your hands along the tendons in his thick neck, watching the water flow along your hands and down into the slight dip of his collar bone, then continued to his broad expansive chest where you settled your hands among the pinkish raised scars from bullets and blades. They looked so small compared to him, lifting effortlessly as the muscles rose and fell with each soft breath. You couldn't help but find a trance in the way the water swept down him as well, each trail seemed more interesting than the last. Michael allowed you to look at his details and touch where you wanted, from his smooth chest to the dips in his abs, and the v in his obliques, washing the water with a slight hue of pink from his last kills. This was more than a privilege at this point, you took extreme pride in these extraordinarily rare moments he allowed. You were the only one who could ever touch the shape the way you did, the way he let you. This is how he made you feel good, this was his love.

Was this all a trick? A sick game he liked to play? Toying with you like a lion would before the kill?

Looking up at the towering figure locking eyes, his hands meticulously found home on your waist and slowly he leaned down, blocking the water from you and he met his lips with yours. Michael had kissed you, tenderly, softly. A foreign place he tried desperately to be comfortable in. You moved your lips cautiously with his, waiting for the large forceful hand to grab your neck, or to be pushed against the freezing tiles with blood running down your skull. Your eyes opened trying to see what he was planning but his eyes were closed, and his brow was furrowed seeking the love he knew he couldn't produce.

Blood ran cold in your veins as he pulled away, eyeing you up with a strange softness you never thought was possible. The kiss left you breathless, and your mouth was slightly agape as he took one of his large hands placing it under your jaw, cupping your chin and running a thick thumb along your sweet lips. Carefully you placed your shaky hands on either side of his sharp jaw, holding him as he let his head slack slightly and rest tenderly. It dawned on you that you were practically holding a predator in your hands, the claws were hidden but always still beneath the surface, your heart raced at the thought and you tried to slow your breath as much as you could, not wanting to start the predators chase. In this moment you saw a glint of what looked like pain in Michael’s eyes, if he was even capable of feeling such an emotion, he knew what you thought of him. Tonight all he wanted was to feel like a normal man, he wanted to give you his affection and nothing more, but the task was nearing impossible for him.

Michael started to run his massive hands around even inch of you, gingerly drawing shapes into and around your chest, rough fingers dipped between your breasts and following the water, luring him downward along your stomach, tracing every mark he made on you; from the bruises on your hips to the bites on your thighs, to the long jagged scar he had made on your stomach where his beloved blade sank a little too far into the skin. You were his and that much was clear.

The shape allowed you to pull his face closer to yours as you placed another kiss to his chapped lips, taking it in more and trusting him with you enough to give into the rare pleasure of the gentleness. Your body so starved of it that when the opportunity presented itself you hesitated deeply. Michael had taught you that a person could be deprived of such needs for a long time and when he gave it to you, you put it in question.

Was it all you ever thought you needed? Was it just an illusion your head fueled?

Stained crimson fingers that seemed to never be fully clean moved to the back of neck, fingers circling and moving slowly into your hair, Michael mirrored your movements that had put him at ease some minutes ago. His rosy lips left yours and trailed along your jaw, down your neck pausing to feel your pulse, and nipping at the tender flesh of your collar bone, pulling drawn out moans of pleasure you delicately webbed your fingers into his hair. Every touch, lick and nip put you into a blissful haze, forgetting where you were and blocking out the sound of the water spitting and gurgling, Michael was the only thing that mattered in this moment, and the world was lost.

His wandering hands had now moved to your hips again, his lips were gone and Michael had you turn around, not to look at him any longer, just hot rhythmic breathing leaving your skin numb. Slowly his gentleness was failing him, urges and twisted thoughts were beginning to hound him like a pack of coyotes howling from the ridgeline hidden in the shadows. Your euphoria coating too thickly to see this, you just stood in the current, eyes closed and body relaxed, there were a few more strokes of your back muscles and stolen kisses to your neck before he was gone.

Michael had left silently like the shape he was. Gone into the night that called him. Where he belonged. Free. A tortuous beauty that made you ache. The rare moment of affection was gone, burned away by the steam and lost hopes. Michael was just a force, a shadow that could and will never be tamed. Haunting people and leaving destruction behind. Just like his knife the pain you felt of his absence was sharp and cold amongst the scolding flow.

This was loving him. This was his affection.

#micheal myers #michael myers x reader #michael myers imagine #slasher #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher fanfiction #slasher x reader #halloween #horror #horror imagine #my writing

561 notes · View notes

drariellevalentine · 3 years

Note

Can you do one shot for Ethan and Arrielle having a day off, maybe goin somewhere and or doing something mundane.

Ookay... here’s to my attempt at a one-shot!

Autumn Delight

Pairing:- Ethan Ramsey x Arielle Valentine

Rating:- Teen (reference to mature situations) other than that TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF

This is a submission for @choicesmonthlychallenge for the prompt Wonderful.

@wackydrabbles for the prompt “I won’t forget this.”

@choicesweeklychallenge for the prompt “You sure about that?”

Yes, don’t judge, I hit three birds with one stone.

Preview:- “The pancakes were good, weren’t they?”

“They were, but I think you liked mine better.” You look up at him in confusion.

“You ate half of my plate.”

“I did not!” He gives you a look.

“Okay, Fine...maybe I did. But in my defence, I was hungry!”

“No, you just won’t admit I have better taste then you.

General PoV:-

Spiraling streams of sunlight wash over Arielle as she turns around in bed. Or to be precise, his bed. “Good morning handsome…”, she says with a yawn.

“Good afternoon, beautiful...”, Ethan corrects with a smile.

Arielle shoots up out of bed, clad in a lavender lace top, hair like a bird’s nest. “Afternoon?! I’m late for work! Zaid is going to kill me!” Arielle scrambles out of bed and runs around the room in an attempt to find her clothes. Ethan chuckles, “What are you even doing?”

“Ethan, as much as I love your sexy morning voice, now is not the time! You might be Dr. Ethan Freaking Ramsey who can waltz in at any time but I’m still a resident!” Ethan watches the very amusing spectacle of Arielle getting dressed.

“Are you seriously laughing right now?!”, Arielle half-shouts as she tries to tame her hair.

“Well, I mean you don’t have work today. And to be honest, it is quite amusing.”

Arielle’s eyes go wide as she groans, “I forgot today was my day-off.”

“I figured.”, Ethan says as he gestures to her form. “Now come here..” Ethan lunges for Arielle, attackling her with tickles.

“Ethan! Stop! I’m hungry!”

“I’ll make whatever you want later...”, he replies before kissing her deeply,

“No! I want pancakes and I know for a fact you can’t make them.��

Hearing this, Ethan suddenly sits up looking at her with a raising eyebrow. “How did you”- Arielle smirks, “A girl’s gotta have a few secrets.”

“My dad told you, didn’t he?”

Arielle grins proudly, “He let it slip when I met him for the first time. Now, get ready. I want pancakes.” She gets up and walks towards the door when suddenly an arm loops around her waist, pulling her back. “Eeeeek!”

“And where do you think you’re going?”, Ethan asks as he spins her around to face him.

“To take a shower.”

“Well, I’m going to take one too.”

“Okay, so what?”

“We don’t want to waste water, do we?” Arielle rolls her eyes. “Oh really, you’re rolling your eyes at me?” Without missing a beat, Ethan swipes Arielle off her feet, quite literally, and heads toward the shower.

“Ethan!”

One productive shower later…

Arielle’s PoV:-

“Now I’m even more hungry!”

“Now you’re complaining? I didn’t hear you complaining when I”-

“Okay! I get it! Now, can we go? I’m all dressed!”

Ethan turns to look at you, his eyes slowly widen.

You smirk, Well?...”

“You look perfect.”

“But where are we going?”

“For a world-renowned diagnostician, you really can be sooo clueless sometimes. We’re going to iHop.” Ethan stares at you. “Did you not hear me? We’re going to ihop! And maybe Starbucks after.”, you say with a big smile.

“Alright, Starbucks I understand but ihop?”

You gasp. “You don’t know I hop?! The only place for amazing pancakes, waffles and more?! How long has it been since you’ve eaten pancakes?!”

Ethan shrugs. “Maybe 7, 8 years.”

“You’re joking!....right?” He gives you another look.”Okay, that’s it! We’re getting you pancakes! No one should have to live without pancakes!”

“Okay, we’ll go and get pancakes.”

“Not like that! No one sees you like this except for me.”, you say defiantly. He laughs as you rifle through his closet in search of clothes. You pull out a pair of jeans, a jacket and a v-neck shirt for him. ”Wear this and meet me downstairs!”, you shout as you head out, leaving him no choice but to obey.

Ethan’s PoV:-

“Can I drive?” You turn to your right and see Arielle giving you her puppy dog eyes as she fastens her seatbelt.

“No.”, you reply without looking at her. You know you’ll succumb to those eyes if you look at them.

“Why not?” You can see her pouting from the corner of your eye.

“Cause I say so. Now, where’s IHOP?

“Fineee...only cause I’m hungry. And give me a sec, let me pull up the directions.”

20 minutes later, you’ve arrive at a family restaurant which is surprisingly almost full.

“It’s almost 12:30 and these people want pancakes?”, you ask.

“Yes, and that includes us.” Arielle drags you out of the car and into the restaurant.

“Table for two?”, a lady asks.

“Yes please!” Soon, you’re both seated in a small but cozy corner booth.

“A waiter will be right here with your menus. And if you don’t mind me saying, you both make a lovely couple.”, the elderly lady says as she walks away. You cant help but smile at the comment as Arielle blushes.

“This is nice, isn’t it? Just us two, away from all the chaos at work…”

“Hmm. It is.” Just then, a waiter arrives and gives you both a menu each. You open yours and start to look at the different varieties when suddenly Arielle slides in the seat next to you. You don’t say anything but instead put your arm around her and hold up the menu. She snuggles into your chest as she looks through the menu.

“Have you decided what you want?”, you ask.

“Mhm! What about you?”, she replies looking up. You can’t but help smile at her.

“I did.”

“Would you like to order now?”, a waiter asks.

“Yes, I’ll have the Southwest Scramble and the lady will have the short stack of French Cremé Brûlée Pancakes.”, you reply.

“Would you like anything to drink?”

Remembering what she said about going to Starbucks later on, you reply with, “Just water.”

“They’ll be here in 10 minutes, sir.” Arielle once again lays her head on your chest, you won’t admit it but you like it when she does that.

“You know me so well.”, she says out of nowhere.

“I thought you would ask something like, ‘How did you know?!”, he says horribly mimicking your voice.

“My voice doesn’t sound like that! And I know you better then you know yourself.”, she replies with a smile.

“Can we take a picture?” Normally, you would said no but when it comes to Arielle, it’s just impossible to say no.

“...fine. But only one.”

“Yay!”, Arielle squeals like a child. One of the things you lov- like about her, despite being 26 years old, she still has a bit of childishness.

A waft of smells captures your attention. You turn to see the waiter bring two steaming plates of food, setting it on the table.

Arielle brings her plate towards her and takes a bite. Her mouth drops open.

“What happened?”, you ask.

“It’s hot!” You hand her a glass of water, biting down to stop your self from laughing. She quickly drinks half of it, and doesn’t notice you laughing.

“Ahh, that’s much better.” She takes another bite, this time waiting for it to cool down.

Arielle doesn’t say anything, completely focusing on her stack on pancakes. You chuckle to yourself as you take a bite of your eggs. It’s quite good. Both of you enjoy the peaceful silence between the two of you as you eat breakfast...or lunch. You know better not to disturb her when eating.

Arielle’s PoV:-

A good hour later, you and Ethan are strolling down Boston Common in search of a Starbucks.

“The pancakes were good, weren’t they?”

“They were, but I think you liked mine better.” You look up at him in confusion.

“You ate half of my plate.”

“I did not!” He gives you a look.

“Okay, Fine...maybe I did. But in my defence, I was hungry!”

“No, you just won’t admit I have better taste then you.” You roll your eyes playfully.

You smile. “Next time I’m teaching you how to make them!”

“I look forward to that. Now, what do you want from Starbucks?”, he asks as you both enter Starbucks.

“I’m ordering my usual fall pumpkin spice latte.”

“Okay, go sit in a table. I’ll go order and be right back.”

“Such a gentleman, aren’t we today?”, you playfully say as you press your lips against his cheek.

“Oh really, maybe you need a reminder of last night?” You can see the smirk on his face. You can feel your cheeks heat up, so you quickly turn around and look for a place to sit. A few minutes later, Ethan slides in the seat opposite you. You notice the bill has more than two drinks but before you can see it, he tucks it in his pocket.

“Hey!”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Order for Ethan!”

“Be right back.” Instead of waiting at the table, you decide to meet Ethan at the counter. Ethan turns around, two drinks and a mysterious box in hand. “I thought I told you to wait at the booth.”

“I thought we’d go outside and enjoy the weather. It’ll be winter before we know it.”, you add with a lopsided grin.

“Quoting me, are we Rookie?”

“Just observing, Dr. Ramsey.”, you wink as you take your drink from him.

You spend the whole afternoon with Ethan, strolling around Boston Common, taking pictures and posting them and doing all of that hand in hand, every single minute.

By the time Ethan drives you to your apartment, the sun is almost gone.

“I had a really nice time today.”

“It’s not often I say this, but I agree.” You burst out laughing, soon Ethan joins you.

“Do you want me to walk you to the door?”

“I would like that.” He gets out of the car and rides up the elevator with you. It’s been almost a whole day that you spent with him, but somehow it feels like it was only a few minutes. “Goodnight Ethan.”

“I would say goodnight, but we both know sleep is the last thing you’ll be doing.”

“Smartass.” You kiss him deeply once again then rest your head on his chest. He loops an arm around your waist. You both stay there for a few minutes when a sudden voice interrupts you.

“You both just gonna stand there, or are you coming inside Arielle?” You turn around to see Jackie, hands on her hips. You smile sheepishly.

You can hear Sienna’s voice ring throughout the apartment, “Jackie! I told you to leave them alone!” Jackie rolls her eyes.

“Ah, Dr. Varma. This is for you and the other doctors. Arielle mentioned that you all liked the cake pops from Starbucks.” Ethan hands her the mysterious box.

“Oh um, thank you.” Jackie steps back inside sheepishly. You can still hear Sienna shouting, “Won’t you all leave those two alone?! The two have had to wait for God-knows-how-long!”

Ethan laughs, “She really is quite a friend.”

“You gave Jackie that box just to shut her up, didn’t you?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Well, initially I bought the cake pops for you but I can buy you them anytime now.”

“You sure about that?”-

Ethan silences you with a kiss. “Mhm.” You both just stay there relishing the intimacy between you.

“I should go.” He nods. You walk up to the door but turn around just to say, “I won’t forget this.”

“Me either. Goodnight Arielle.” You smile as you head into your apartment, knowing that you’ll have many more days like today.

———————————————————

Author’s Note:- Hello loves! Hope you’re having a good day/night! If you’ve come this far, you’re amazing and thank you soo so so much for reading this mess of a fic. Sorry for any mistakes!

There will be a follow up post with some Instagram edits of what Ethan and Arielle did on their stroll so keep a look out!

Ask box taglist:- @aylaramseycarrera

@openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

Love,

@drariellevalentine

#open heart #playchoices #ethanjonahramsey #ohsy #ethan x mc #open heart fanfic #from the bottom of my heart #thank you for never getting tired of them #diyaa writes

59 notes · View notes

sablelab · 4 years

Text

Covert Operations - Chapter 96

SYNOPSIS: With Fergus’ help James Fraser makes his way through a series of underground tunnels to find Claire’s location and comes to her rescue in a dramatic way. Whilst hiding, he also hears a conversation that he was not expecting.

This chapter contains some violence. Previous chapters can be found at … https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations

MY THANKS for your continued support and comments on the previous chapter. Knowing that you have been waiting for Jamie to come to Claire’s rescue, I hope that you enjoy this chapter when he finally finds her.

CHAPTER 96(V) James Fraser jiggled the doorknob a little and found that the door was bolted but not locked. Carefully he loosened the bolt and slowly released it cautious of the fact that he was unaware of what or who may lie beyond when he opened the door. He inched the door open just enough to be able to see but to his surprise he discovered that some kind of bookcase disguised the tunnel's secret entrance and concealed the opening to a secret passageway. Entering the space, he listened then hurriedly ran his hand along the back of the bookcase searching for the mechanism that would open this sesame. Locating a button, he pressed it. Suddenly the secret entrance was revealed as a panel within the bookcase rose wide enough for him to slip through. Peering inside Jamie then made his way further into the room. His eyes immediately looked around searching for any clues that would lead to Claire's whereabouts but there was nothing.

"Fergus can ye give me a reading yet?" "Hold on Jamie ... I'm on to it." Tapping some keys on his computer Fergus locked onto Jamie's position but as he did so his monitor showed an ancillary signal was also being sent from inside the monastery. His eyes lit up with renewed vigour and delight.

"Oh! My! God! ..."

Alarmed he asked, "Fergus! What's happening?" "I'm getting another signal ... Claire has activated her tracker..." "What tracker?" "She had one in her shoe." Relief flooded through Jamie's body ... His Claire was still alive. The shot he had heard earlier had not been for her. "Where is she?" Looking at a schematic of the monastery sectionalized floor by floor, Fergus now had a full access and egress on the interior of the building and the surrounding rooms. He zoomed in on the hot spot which was obviously where Claire was being held. As he watched his monitor, square markings appeared on the screen indicating the amount of people in the room with her. A satisfied look crossed Fergus' face as he quickly reported the Intel back to Jamie as to her position. "Work your way through the room. Outside on the South East corner, you'll find a stairwell that leads to a corridor. Go up there and standby." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Quietly opening the door Jamie was about to exit the room when he heard the sound of voices and a sharp warning from Fergus in his comm. unit. "Jamie hold! ... Hostiles approaching." He stepped back into the shadows of the room as the footsteps came nearer. The men stopped just outside the room where he was hiding and he listened to the conversation of their raised voices. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* "That bitch tried to strangle me with her feet." "Let it be Jonathon ... She has been well trained. Obviously, Section One operatives have backbones of steel." "We've tried everything. What do we tell Sun Yee Lok when he calls?" he asked nervously. "Yes ..." Wang pondered, "He will want to know what progress we have made with the woman soon." Randall gave a flippant but frustrated reply. "Well that's easy ... none. She won't crack." Feeling the frustration of his colleague Wang Yu tried to placate him. "That's why we'll need to try a different approach." "What do you suggest?" "I told you there was another way." He looked at Jonathon and philosophically said, "You'll attract more files to honey than you will to vinegar." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* James Fraser fell deeper into the shadows when he heard the sound of the door handle engage. With his gun poised he waited as the door was slightly opened, but just as the men were about to enter the room, an alarm sounded in the corridor and an announcement blared out.

Alert! ... Alert! ... Intruder Alert! Wang Yu opened his cell phone. "Report!" He listened then turned to Jonathon Randall when the call was finished. “What?" "Karen has just been retrieved from the grounds," he announced amazed but jubilant at this information. "What? ... She was supposed to be in Hong Kong. How did she get here?" "She was kidnapped." "By whom?" "James Fraser." "Ah ... so he did find us after all," Jonathon replied with unveiled glee in his voice. "Apparently. It seems that he is somewhere within the grounds or building." "Is Karen okay? Sun Yee Lok won't like it if his daughter has been harmed. Where is she?" "In the parlour. She's waiting for us to report." "Let's go then!" Jonathon stated closing the door sharply behind him. The two men turned away from the room and hurried away leaving Jamie to ponder what they had been talking about. As they rushed to where Karen was located, Wang Yu looked at Jonathon Randall.

"Our honey may just have arrived," he stated cryptically. Jonathon nodded in agreement. "You may be right." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Jamie's near discovery had been a close shave and their conversation had been enlightening. However, the new explosive Intel about Karen's relationship with Sun Yee Lok would keep for his sole objective now was to retrieve his Claire without delay and egress as quickly as possible. "Jamie ... proceed ... the corridor is clear." Time was of the essence as the triad knew he was on the premises somewhere. Quickly opening the door, he made his way into the empty passageway and headed to the stairwell at the end. Once again, he held his silencer at the ready and climbed up the set of stairs two at a time. He ended in a landing which led to another corridor.

"I'm here." "Okay ... There's a second flight of stairs, to the left. Ascend, then at the end of the hall turn right. You're closing in. The torture room is along there." Following Fergus's instructions to the letter Jamie proceeded to his destination and once there reported back to him, "Where is she?" He knew he was close to his Sassenach now and although he hoped that she would be fine, he knew this may be wishful thinking. Would she have the stamina to make her way to egress? The tape he'd seen was testament to what the triad was capable of and also what they had done to her. Would he be able to get Claire out in one piece the same way he had managed to get into the monastery?

With these thoughts running through his mind, he waited impatiently for Fergus to respond. There was a long silence before he finally heard a reply from him. The intonation in Fergus's voice told Jamie that he was going to hear something he wouldn't like. "Jamie ... there's a lot of electrical energy near her ... and water." James Fraser became rigid. His eyes deepened to a steely dark hue. With his voice quavering somewhat Fergus voiced out loud what he was doing. "I'm trying to get a visual of the room. I'll have to disable their monitoring system first. Give me a minute." "Let me know when ye do." Furiously Fergus tapped away at his computer and keyed into the mainframe that had worked successfully in the security cameras and sensors. He created a layered matrix and soon had a visual inside the torture room.

"Got it. The triad have been trying to make Claire talk judging by the equipment in the room Jamie." Fergus' voice suddenly went quiet. "She is strung up to a rafter. She's alive but it looks like she's beaten up pretty bad from what I can see." Jamie felt numb. His emotions were in turmoil for all the suffering his beautiful, brave Sassenach had endured for the Section. But the pain of their separation and the fact the he had been unable to protect her ate away at him more. He felt a cold wave of regret for his inability to protect her and disdain for the triad waft through him. What had the Rising Dragons subjected her to? The words of Jonathon Randall echoed in his brain torturing his mind. We've tried everything ... Electrodes had obviously been used to torture her. What kind of state would he find her in? His heart felt the pain of his love’s suffering ... but it hardened with the loathing and contempt for the perpetrators of her torture. They would pay ... and pay dearly. Once he had rescued his Claire and the backup team had arrived to take care of the other triad members at the monastery, he would seek revenge but, in the meantime, he would do whatever it took to retrieve her. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Wang Yu and Jonathon Randall had left Andy Ma and Ronald MacNab in the torture room with Claire Beauchamp with instructions to return her to her room but Andy had other ideas. With emotionless eyes he watched the prisoner. Her body hung like a limp rag doll from the rafters. He'd observed how Claire had recoiled at Jonathon's last attempt to make her talk. The episode with the rats had nearly been her downfall, but by far the most explosive method had been their water torture. Before cutting her down and following his orders, Andy decided to try one last time to see if he could make any headway with this woman.

"All right this is the last time that I'm going to ask. Look at me. LOOK! AT! ME!" he yelled his face flushing with the force of his words. Sweat dribbled down Claire's brow into her eyes but she defiantly raised them and stared at the man who had pretended to be a meek musician but was anything but.

"Why did you kill Tony Wong and where is Madame Cheung?" She refused to reply and closed her eyes. "Did you dispose of her too?" Her silence was beginning to get on his nerves. Andy signalled to Ronald MacNab to get the hose ready to spray her as he again threatened to use the electro shock treatment on her.

"Do you have anything to tell me? Anything?" Slowly opening her eyes, Claire tried to focus on her interrogator. She heard footfalls as they brought Ronald MacNab closer to her until he was within her line of sight too. She flinched when she saw what he intended to do.

"Wait!" she uttered, then whispered a little softer, "Wait… wait." Happy that MacNab had done enough, Andy smiled a pleased, malicious smile then menacingly came closer.

"Yes ... I'm listening." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* James Fraser hastened along the corridor but stopped when he saw two triad members who were watching what was going on in the torture room through a glass observation window. The men were preoccupied and didn't hear him approach until Jamie swiftly slammed one man back against the wall. The guard reached for his gun but before his hand could reach his weapon Jamie shot him with his silencer. The impact of the muffled bullet caused the man's body to jerk and fall into a heap on the floor. The second man tried to get a shot at him but the Section operative was aware of the guard's movements behind him. In a split second, he grabbed him by the throat. The man lashed out and somehow managed to wrench away from his attacker. He tried to make a run for it to raise the alarm of an intruder, but taking aim Jamie shot him down. The victim keeled over, his head hit the floor with a thump and blood spilled from his mouth. Returning to the observation window James Fraser peered through it. An anger so profound coursed through his being as his eyes locked on the sight before him. Time stood still while the pulse of rage and the need for blood thrummed like a heartbeat in his chest at what he observed below. There was no mistaking the long brunette hair hanging down around the face of the beautiful tortured woman inside the room. At last he had found her. He had found his Claire but what had they done to his beautiful Sassenach?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hoping that her frail reply had given her some respite from Andy Ma's persistent questioning Claire lowered her head, her chin resting on her chest. Although exhausted, she dug deep within herself for more hidden strength while at the same time bracing herself for what she was about to do. Andy was confident that their hostage would answer his question; however, although he inched closer to their captive, he was wary of her too. He'd seen what she had done to Jonathon Randall and stayed his distance somewhat. Even though Claire Beauchamp looked like a spent force, he didn't trust her. Keeping his gaze on her suspended from the rafters, he singled to Ronald MacNab to have the hose ready just in case she decided to try anything like the last time and in reprisal for him kicking her as well.

Nodding in understanding, MacNab turned on the valve and water gushed out of the hose onto the floor beneath Claire's feet. Andy moved closer. A purposeful gleam appeared in his eyes knowing that finally this woman was about to crack. At last he had the upper hand and his sarcasm was obvious. "You were saying?" Raising her head, Claire eyed him with contempt. In the split second that their eyes met, Andy realised that she was not submissive at all and began lashing out at him again with her feet. Noticing what their hostage had done to his colleague, Ronald doused her in a gush of cold-water causing her to lose her grip and set Claire in a tail spin with the force of the spray. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* James Fraser's shadow ominously fell across the observation window as he saw what was happening below. What they were doing to his Sassenach was more than he could bear. He would wait not one second more. Without a moment’s hesitation he burst through the tempered safety glass window shattering little pebble-like fragments of glass shards every which way as he flew through the air towards the ground like an avenging angel.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Suddenly without warning there was an almighty crash. Claire looked up. Her face was dead white, sheened with a cold sweat that had soaked her hair.

"Jamie," she whispered, speaking hoarsely through lips cracked with dryness. She was clearly dazed and every line of her body was eloquent with pain but that didn’t matter now because her Jamie was here. Suddenly her pain was of no consequence for the man she loved had come for her.

Relief. He was here. Andy Ma and Ronald MacNab were startled by the noise and they too turned at the sound of the glass shattering. What appeared to be some kind of apparition had crashed down through the overhead observation window. Shooting at them with guns in both hands the man menacingly floated down as glass fragments, like a ray of light beams, showered all around him. They raised their guns to return fire but were no match for this cold Level 5 operative’s deadly aim. Andy was shot with a direct hit to the heart before he could even fire a shot in retaliation. He fell to the ground with a thud, his eyes wide with shock and with his gun still lodged in his hand. Ronald MacNab had no hope of returning fire. He was caught in Jamie's rampant crossfire as another rapid round of shots felled him immediately after Andy. James Fraser had swiftly taken care of Claire’s two torturers with not one thought for them whatsoever other than to seek revenge for what they had inflicted on his woman. Glancing down at the two bodies that lay below her feet still coupling their firearms Claire exhaled a breathy sigh.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Bending his knees to cushion his fall, James Fraser fell to the floor landing steadily as his feet touched the ground. With guns poised for any other assailant who might appear, he casually stood up. His eyes were focused only on the woman he loved strung up like a piece of meat at an abattoir. As he approached her, he did not take his eyes off of his bold Sassenach for one second. He wanted to see every inch of her injured body and see everything that they had done to his beautiful woman. Moving closer and closer to her, he casually stowed his guns away back in the holsters in his jacket. However, each step towards her was agony especially seeing what the triad interrogators had done to her and what she had endured. “Oh, my god ... Claire ... what the hell have they done to ye?” He whispered trying to ease the choking sensation that formed a lump in his throat.

His stomach too was in knots at seeing her suffer this way while a large ball of ice in the pit of his stomach seemed to grow more intense the closer he came towards her. Jamie's breath caught in his throat in uncontained rage as he looked at his love hanging suspended from the ceiling. He couldn't help glancing towards her and at the damage that the triad's torture techniques had wreaked on her. There was no escape from his feelings. His heart hardened with the contempt he felt for them and their methods. Loathing for the triad and revenge for what they had perpetrated were paramount in his thoughts. As he walked closer and closer, his eyes refused to sever their gaze from his love’s battered body. Claire looked traumatised, distressed and deathly pale. She was alive ... but only just. It only took one look at her to cause a gamut of emotions to rush through his body. Jamie's heart clenched in pain with thoughts of what his Sassenach had suffered at the hands of the vindictive triad and the torture methods of Jonathon Randall. Seething with such loathing and vindictiveness towards this man peppered his thoughts of what he would do to him when he had the chance.

In a voice that he didn’t recognise as his own Jamie declared again, “What has he done to ye? I’m going to kill him for this.”

There was nothing too severe or painful that he wouldn’t do to seek retribution on the man who had hurt his Sassenach. There was nothing that he wouldn’t do to make this man pay for the atrocities he had inflicted on the porcelain skin of his Claire. There was no suffering that would be good enough for Jonathon Randall that would ever be enough punishment for his methods of torture towards his love. He would take great satisfaction in seeing the man suffer exponentially until he saw him take his last breath. Nothing would be more gratifying than witnessing his demise and he would do it even with his bare hands. It wouldn’t be quick but a more protracted slow death that would make Jonathon Randall wish that he had never been born.

Jamie inhaled deeply swallowing back the bile that had risen in the back of his throat. It was impossible to stop the feelings that he couldn't control or deny. If only he could have changed places with her. He would have done anything humanly possible and more for his Claire to have avoided the suffering that she had endured. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Sassenach?”

Claire was near fainting but opened her eyes for a moment at Jamie’s gentle voice. Slowly but proudly, she raised her head to look at him with a tremulous smile on her teary face. Jamie could see the shock in the back of her eyes. Holding her gaze with his own, he came closer reassuring Claire that she was safe at last. His heart thumped erratically against his ribs until at last he stood directly in front of her. He studied her swollen and bruised face intently. His eyes traversed every inch of her features. Claire’s hair was ragged, soaked and dripping in matted tendrils across her beautiful face. Her skin was covered in welts and was laced with black and blue bruises like she had gone fifteen rounds in a boxing match. Seeing her suffer like this was tearing his guts out but the relief at finding her alive was overwhelming. His body's reaction to her overpowered him causing Jamie to be aware of the hot rush of awareness at her nearness. Something he had always tried to suppress time and time again refused to be denied. He fully acknowledged that his feelings for Claire Beauchamp were more than just a painful white-hot desire ... he loved her deeply and unconditionally and it was this overwhelming love for her that seared his heart. Claire looked at him. Shock registered on her face at seeing Jamie materialise before her eyes but when their eyes met, time stood still. She stared back at him in disbelief. His troubled but relieved eyes connected and held with hers as Claire searched his face, caressing his features while making sure that what she was seeing was real. Her beautiful blue eyes reassured him that she was okay despite what she looked like. Jamie saw the relief that was centred there and love radiated in eyes that lingered on his form. Reciprocating, his azure eyes bared his soul to her as well at having found her at last. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Bending down James Fraser gently lifted his love up holding her from behind her legs. "Arrrghhhhh!" Claire moaned as his hands nearly touched her sore ribs. Her head lolled backwards as he raised her arms so that he could unhook her wrist bonds from the overhead hook holding the chains on the beam. Closing her eyes, Claire placed her hand on Jamie's shoulder as her body weight was finally released from her shackles. Ever so gently, he guided her broken and bruised body back down his own. He moved closer and tenderly drew her towards him. Her arms latched about his neck. The connection of Claire’s torso to his was cathartic for he was so thankful that at long last he'd been able to find her alive. Jamie's eyes caressed every inch his Sassenach’s face then her body while assessing her demeanour. He couldn't seem to take them from her. He didn't want to look away. He wanted to see what damage the triad's torture techniques had done to his beautiful, brave Claire, and at the same time he wanted to make sure that she was okay. His eyes lovingly caressed every precious inch of her.

“Mo ghràidh?” he muttered, as his eyes canvassed her beautiful scared face. “I’ve got ye. Ye are safe now,” Jamie said decisively. "That man willna lay hands on ye again, while I live.”

Claire swayed in pain near to fainting. Her eyes closed, as sweat beaded in hundreds of tiny pearls on her porcelain skin … skin that had been marked by the vicious actions of her captors. However, she opened her eyes at the sound of his voice and it was her throaty words that brought his eyes back to her face.

"Jamie ... I'm okay." She tightened her arm on his shoulder for balance as he tenderly lowered her to the ground. Her legs felt like jelly, she could hardly stand, but Jamie supported her weight and held her a moment, looking at her with concern. He continued to caress her face, while her head leaned forward. The smudges under her eyes gave evidence that she had had little rest of late, while the evidence of her interrogators' brutality was written all over her beautiful face. He saw the outward bruises, but what of those within? He thought, “will those ever heal?”

Her eyes were glazed. Claire was teary eyed but not with the pain of her body but with the sheer elation of having him here. Her avenging angel had come for her as she knew he would. When her face fell towards his shoulder, Jamie captured it in his hands brushing her hair away so that he could see her better. He tenderly held her battered face within the palms of his hands while his thumb slowly and repeatedly caressed her cheek over and over, hoping that his loving touch would help kick-start her healing. His fingers gently stroked behind her ears reassuring her that he was here and that she was safe at last. His Sassenach looked at him with half lidded eyes and caressed his blue eyes with glassy eyed emotion. Jamie raised his right hand and traced over her face with fingertips that were as soft as silk stroking her softly. He couldn't stop touching his Claire ... caressing her ... loving her for her bravery and for her doggedness in the face of adversity. The triad and Jonathon Randal especially would pay dearly for what they had done to her. His vengeance knew no bounds. Placing his arm around her, Jamie protectively pulled Claire’s body flush to his own so that she could feel safe and secure. Her eyes looked at him stroking his face in return. He swiftly unfastened her cuffs removing the chains from around her wrists, one at a time. She fell forward exhausted and spent and he cradled her body gently to his own knowing that his Sassenach was in great agony. "I thought Karen was my friend," she uttered in softly spoken words. "Shhh... It doesn't matter now ... yer safe mon nighean donn ... I'm here," he replied his voiced laced with emotion. “Ye have my protection now.”

However, her concern for him was her only thought. "Jamie ... Oh, you should have had backup. You had no way of knowing if I was going to be all right. What if this room was full of triad members? Hmmm? You wouldn't have made it out of here." Her words filled his heart with joy and his reply was just as poignant. "If ye weren't alive, it wouldn't have mattered Sassenach." Opening her eyes, Claire lovingly caressed his features once again as Jamie's reply found a home in her heart too.

“You must get out of here at once. They’ll be back soon.”

“Let them …”

Jamie’s words spoke volumes as to what he was thinking as he hurriedly pulled the remaining chains away from her, flinging them away in disgust. Although his arm was around her waist, Claire was unable to stand alone at the moment. Her feet would not cooperate and she nearly stumbled but he held her tightly refusing to let her fall. Then placing his arm around her waist Jamie bent down and moving with exquisite care lifted her up. Her arms automatically wound around his shoulders and she held on tight. Quickly they made their exit from the torture room as James Fraser carried her upstairs and away from her place of torture and incarceration. He wanted to get his Claire as far away from the monastery as possible ... away from the triad and back to Section One and to Medical, for the sooner she began to heal the better.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ to be continued on Friday 24th

#Jamieandclairefanfic #jamieandclairecrossover #jamieandclaireau #covert operations #outlander fanfiction #outlanderandLFN #the lallybroch library

60 notes · View notes

sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 4 years

Text

Mercenary Chapter 9

Maul x reader

Word Count: 1248

Summary: Qi’ra arrives on Dathomir.

The next morning, you woke slowly, barely registering what was even causing you to wake. Your brows furrowed as you realized that you were feeling lips gently kissing all along your neck and shoulder. “As sweet as this is,” you muttered sleepily, face still pressed into your pillow, “you know I hate being woken up.”

“Qi’ra just called,” he replied by way of explanation, lips causing shivers to run down your spine as they lightly brushed your skin. “She will be here shortly.”

“How short is ‘shortly’?”

“‘Bout ten minutes.”

Your eyes shot open. “Seriously?! I’m not even dressed!” You looked over your shoulder at him, seeing that he was just as naked as the night before. “You’re not even dressed!”

“Says the woman that suggested that she walk in to find us fucking?” he countered, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I may not have been thinking clearly at that point.”

“Who cares what she thinks? The other guards can handle anything else that might come up; just put on a robe.” With that, he slunk off the bed to head to the bathroom, during which you naturally took the opportunity to eye him up.

An evil little smirk crossed your face as you thought of something you could do to rub in the fact that Qi’ra’s usual charms would get her nowhere within the true ranks of Crimson Dawn. With all the confidence of someone that was naked and alone in their own room, you strode across the room to the closet you shared with Maul. Neither of you had an array of outfits like Dryden possessed given your professions, so most of everything was varying tones of black and red. That being said, there was one robe of Maul’s reserved for more formal occasions--still black, of course--that was softer than the usual rigid material and had a deep hood. It was the one that, on him, had a deep V that exposed most of his sternum; on you, however, it hung off-shoulder and gave a rather flattering view of your own cleavage.

Pretty much as soon as the belt was fastened, Maul entered the closet and immediately froze. “Why do I allow you to have your own clothes, again?”

“Because I’m your bodyguard, not your wench. Even if I do look as good as you in your clothes,” you smirked, tapping a finger to his nose teasingly. “I’ll be in the main room.”

“I’ll be there shortly.”

You were lounging across Maul’s make-shift throne when Qi’ra arrived, and you immediately noticed the shock on her face when she saw you in that spot. “Welcome back,” you greeted coldly, moving to sit properly. You rested either hand on its respective arm, creating a pose that screamed ‘power.’

Her shock was written clear across her face. “Are you allowed to be sitting there? I thought that seat was just for Maul?”

“She is allowed to sit wherever she wishes, Qi’ra,” Maul’s voice pulled both sets of eyes to watch his approach.

You immediately smiled. It seemed he took your attire as a bit of a challenge since he had donned one of his more traditional Nightbrother outfits: a pair of black pants with various bits of draping fabrics as decoration. His Crimson Dawn necklace was the only accessory to his upper half other than his tattoos.

“Sir?”

“It seems we came to a bit of a misunderstanding the last time you were here.” Maul looked like a hunter on the prowl as he approached you, his eyes never leaving yours even as he addressed Qi’ra.

“You see, we know that you were sleeping with Dryden in order to find a way to kill him,” you announced, accepting the hand he offered to pull you to your feet, “and we know you were the one to kill him, not Beckett. I watched the recording; don’t argue with me.”

“So you’ve brought me here to kill me?” You had to admire her bravery in the face of the threat of death. Her brown eyes showed no essence of fear as she stared defiantly back at you.

“Quite the opposite,” Maul said in the same breath as a chuckle. He casually sank into the seat. “I am curious what you might bring to the table. Dryden Vos was easy to manipulate and kept his position through fear on both sides. You might be what we need to bring the other Syndicates to their knees. It is unlikely they will expect someone like you to be a threat.”

“You will be the new public face of Crimson Dawn,” you informed her, “but you’ll have to earn our trust.”

“And why do I have to earn a mercenary’s trust?”

“Because to betray her is to betray me.” The growl was back in Maul’s voice as he possessively pulled you down to sit on his lap.

Qi’ra scoffed. “So the two of you are sleeping together? A bit cliche, don’t you think? And you’re sure you can trust her?”

“I’m not the one that slept with my owner in order to kill him,” you sneered.

“They’ve been together longer than you’ve been alive, short stuff,” Rook Kast spoke up from her place by the doorway. “I wouldn’t recommend challenging them on that one.”

Once again, Qi’ra looked surprised; this time in a more innocent way. “Wait . . . you two are . . . committed?”

“You could say that.”

“Y/N has been by my side since the beginning,” Maul stated. “She is my bodyguard, but she is also so much more. You will respect her, and you will not try your old tricks with Dryden on me. Do you understand?”

“You have my word,” she vowed seriously.

“Good.”

“I do have a question, though,” Qi’ra spoke up suddenly.

You were the one that responded. “You want to know how people like us can have any sort of mutually beneficial relationship, am I right? I saw what you said to Han on the video.”

“Yes.”

“Listen, I don’t like you. I might not ever like you. But one thing we do not do in Crimson Dawn is deal in slavery. What Dryden Vos did to you was something he did without permission. Do your job, follow orders, and you’ll get paid. Past that, we don’t care about what you do with your free time. Call your boyfriend or whatever; it makes no difference to us.”

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly,” Maul rumbled. “Personal matters aside, we will be putting together a meeting with the other Syndicates to make your entrance. I trust you will not disappoint us.”

“Of course not, sir. Thank you.”

“You’ll have the same room as before when you stay here. Keep yourself out of trouble,” you decided, already thinking about what deviant things you could do to Maul to kill the afternoon. Tomorrow had plans around the new leader of Crimson Dawn, but today was empty save for this. Free time was one of your favorite advantages of being in charge.

“Actually, I was wondering if either of you would be willing to teach me how to fight. Dryden did a fair bit, but nothing like the two of you.”

“It is unlikely you will ever meet anyone that fights like us, given my . . . unique situation,” Maul informed her. “I will not train you.”

“He doesn’t train anyone these days,” you laughed, “and I never have. So no, I won’t, but I will spar with you.”

An admittedly adorable grin spread across Qi’ra’s youthful face. “Deal.”

#maul x reader #maul imagine #darth maul x reader #darth maul imagine #reader insert #star wars imagine

33 notes · View notes

kpopchangedme · 5 years

Text

Nocturna: Part V [M]

The fragile peace between undead and lycanth is imperilled your arrival to the Inferorum Castrum. Between the changing power dynamics of the wolf pack and the insatiable urges of the vampire king, you aren’t exactly sure where your loyalty lies.

Protagonists: Bang Chan & You | Im Jaebeom & You

Word Count: 5.4k

Nocturna Masterlist | HALLOWEEN

Your eyes are shut, brows creased in concentration, sweat pearls on your forehead. All you can hear is the sound of the two wolves’ beating hearts behind you; the bird yelling at the squirrel in the sycamore tree; someone rummaging in the Castrum’s kitchen; and…

You tilt your head, focusing. Unfortunately, right when you’re about to get it the Beta behind breaks the moment.

“Come on…” Minho scoffs, irritated. “Louder Yeji, I’m dying over here!”

On the other side of the Castrum ground, several miles away, a crystal high-pitched giggle echoes. One that you hear perfectly. You must actively fight your urge to run over and murder the younger wolf. You aren’t sure why, but it’s inherent, you simply cannot stand the girl.

“Is she even saying something?” You glare at Minho, and his eyes narrow in dislike at your animosity. His rank is way above yours, for now at least, and he’s been tolerant so far since you’re acclimating. It doesn’t mean he’ll always let your rudeness slide, you know that.

“Yes,” Youngjae assures, sitting on a wood bench with an open illustrated book on his knees, “again. What is Yeji saying?”

“Do you even need me?” Minho whines, “We’ve been at it for hours!”

“I didn’t ask you to come.” The Delta points out, flipping a page. Minho pouts, craving being elsewhere, anywhere. He despises you and the feeling is very mutual.

You aren’t dumb, you know why they’re all training with you today, it’s not because they enjoy your company. It’s obviously Chan who asked them to keep an eye on you. You haven’t spoken to each other since that day he fought with the Omegas, but he’s still your mate, and somehow he cares. The following morning you woke up to find out he and Jackson had left for a ‘mission’ somewhere. Chan didn’t even bother saying goodbye. He either hates you now or believes you wouldn’t even have seen him. You might have… You’ve been feeling especially shitty since that day. There's a knot in your stomach, and you know it isn't about your bond. It's him. Even if you are rightfully angry, your old friend is the only thing that feels like home here. That’s why you’re trying to take your training more seriously these days, you need to belong. You are doing your best... But that Beta and that Epsilon are getting on your nerves, always laughing when you’re messing up! Earlier, you couldn’t distinguish colours on brightly lit targets, and they had a field trip mocking you.

Honestly, out of your five senses, your view has changed the most since the bite. It has decreased dramatically in the daylight, so you’re having trouble with colours, but you can see in perfect darkness. Also, your field of vision is way broader than it used to be. Even with Minho and Youngjae standing in your back, you can see them clearly.

“Yeji, focus.” Youngjae orders, not even raising his gaze from his book. “No, not louder, she needs to learn.”

“But she’s so damn slow.” Yeji whines, 3 miles away. “It’s tragic Chan’s stuck with her. I can’t understand what he see-”

“Watch it, glob of snot!” Your lips stretch to uncover your teeth and a weird sound births at the back of your throat.

Behind, Minho’s mouth falls open. “The pup's hearing seems fine after all, she’s just very selective about it.”

“Good.” This time, the kind Delta stands to join you. “After tomorrow night, you’ll be able to hear that from double the distance!” Youngjae playfully hits you with his book, and your cheeks warm. You feel weirdly proud, gratified to have managed to do this little.

“Will he be...” His brows raise and you stop, looking down at the tip of your boots in the grass, too embarrassed.

“The whole pack always goes out as one, once a month.” Minho replies with a smirk, amused you’re acting coy. “I would actually be excited for your First Full Moon if Chan wasn’t there to damage control.”

“Why?” You frown, unsure if a first transformation is anything special to watch. You’ve heard about the pain of the first turn, but not much after their ‘it feels amazing’ usual speech. You are genuinely curious.

“I’d love to watch you go berserk.” Minho snarls sarcastically, making Youngjae close both eyes disheartened. “Given your considerate nature, I bet you'd obliterate an entire villa-”

“I’d obliterate you first, wimp!” Vexed, you jump forward until you’re almost against the Beta's chest. You thought he was giving you advice or some sensitive information at last. Turns out he was just pushing your buttons once more. Every werewolf has been irritated and sensitive today. Anyway, ever since the bite, you’ve been continuously picking up fights.

“Try me.” The triggered older wolf uncovers his canines, holding your glare. He’s threatening without the need of a growl, Minho is still one of the pack’s warriors.

“In its own time.” Youngjae stretches an arm to pull him back, not the least frightened bt the animosity between you two.

“Yeah, challenge me soon, puppy.” The cocky Beta steps away, his weird dire smile still plastered on. “Let’s see you go at it. An Alpha is only as strong as his Lead Huntress after all.”

“Jackson doesn’t have one, but you still run around with your tail between your legs whenever he barks!”

“Careful or you’ll never even make it to your First Moon, bitch!” Minho’s jaw snaps, and you snort, remaining unimpressed. There it is; that word again. “And we do have a Lead Huntress, trust me. You’re nothing compared to her.”

Youngjae steps between you two once more for the confrontation to end. You notice others have already started gathering at the entrance of the castle and on the outskirts of the wood. All lycanth really seem to love a good clash. You don’t even ponder on Minho’s cryptic words about the Alpha, you’re too mad to focus. Perhaps it’s real, maybe your level of irritation and hostility has more to do with the imminent Full Moon than any of your real frustrations.

“The sun is setting.” Youngjae points out blankly right as Sana jogs up to you. “You should make it back to your room, y/n. You’ll need a lot of sleep. Tomorrow’s a pretty big day.”

Agreeing, you leave and no wolf makes a sound as you walk by. You still see the glimmer in their gaze though. Something like elation. No one approved of you the first week, but now they’re curious. They wonder about you picking fights with both Chan and Minho. Will you be a courageous and fierce Lead Huntress? Or are you simply as dumb as a post for continuously angering two of their most dangerous Betas?

The pack doesn’t know yet, but this whole mess is bound to get interesting.

You don’t see anyone in the East Wing on your way to your room. As soon as you enter, you begin to wash off the traces of your long training day. Exhausted, you nearly miss the soft thumping on your door when someone knocks. Fighting back your smile, you hurry to change your dark shirt-gown for a clean nightgown. No doubt that this is Chan finally coming back and... For some reason, it is a relief. You’re oddly excited to tell him all about your progress. Unfortunately, one thing is sure as you open the door, that visitor is nothing like who you were expecting.

The newcomer is wearing all-black, special silky clothes, he’s one with the obscurity. Even with your perfect night vision, you can hardly distinguish his silhouette. There’s a mask from the same fabric covering up his entire face except for his sanguine eyes. No wonder you haven't heard him coming by, no wolf would be as quiet in their own quarters. Your mouth opens in shock as the undead gazes up and down at you. He’s lean and short, barely as tall as you. The first time you faced a vampire you were too human to notice, but this time it hits you hard; his scent of death.

“Y/n?” He inquires, voice as uninterested as it gets. Before you can decide if you should scream or reply, the ominous intruder tilts his head, perceivably. “It stinks of him in here, so I guess you're her.” His eyes skim over your body once more, severe. “The king has called upon you.”

“E-Excuse me?”

“The vampire king.” He repeats, accentuating every syllable like you’re dumb. “Now.”

“What if I don’t go?”

You cross your arms over your chest defiantly. Jaebeom has ignored you for days, what can he possibly have to say to you? You’re changing tomorrow, you don’t have to be at his beck and call, your deal was a one-time thing. You’ve moved on. The vampire snorts at your reply, apparently entertained.

In an instant, you’re gagged and thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He’s indifferent as you struggle, kicking and biting. Without having turned and reached your full potential yet, you’re no match for his strength. Your captor moves fast, it takes him under a minute to cross the entire Castrum. It’s evident he isn’t taking you to the West living quarters you've been to before. Right before these stairs, he forks in a secret passageway, entering a dark corridor you are unfamiliar with. When he finally stops, you’re buried under the castle, so deep within, that you can’t even hear what’s going on upstairs anymore. If you were to cry or yell, you bet no wolf would hear. You're not entirely sure they'd come to your rescue anyway... The vampire tosses you on your feet, taking out the cloth he shoved in your mouth. As you're coughing for air, he knocks on a door that opens instantly.

“Mark,” Jaebeom’s eyes go from you to his scion, "Were you seen?" You haven’t looked at him yet, too busy glaring and growling at the second rude vampire. Mark. No wonder your fellow wolves don’t like them if they all act like such entitled assholes.

“It was boring and too easy. Even a newborn would've been able to get her, you didn't need a Shadow, Jeonha.” Mark’s words drip self-importance, making your skin crawl. Speaking, he pulls down his mask, revealing his diaphanous features. He is just as inhumanly perfect as the other undead you've seen so far. "Although, I think I vexed your pet..."

It takes you half a second to realize he's talking about you.

“I’m not his, you filthy leech!”

“Oi, are you gonna bite me!?” The bloodsucker laughs, reaching to poke the middle of your forehead. You must be a fast learner because your current warning growl has nothing to do with how you were begging for your life when you first met one of them. If you don’t notice the slight change, Jaebeom certainly does. “Bad pooch.” Ok. That asshole is just straight-up asking to be gutted.

“Just wait a few days...” Your eyes reflect the torches, casting a supernatural light on the scene. “I’ll add your name to my list of priorities, Mark.” His smile turns to a thin line.

“Leave us,” done, the king dismisses his minion, "discreetly." Though he’s obviously annoyed, Mark obeys, hissing as he slowly walks back the narrow passageway. You don’t stop holding his glare until he’s gone. “What was that,” Jaebeom presses once you are alone, highly annoyed, “are the moon mood swings really that bad?”

“Perhaps I just hate being treated like a possession.” When you turn to face the king, he has already disappeared into a close dim-lit room. You ponder on whether to go back upstairs or follow, hesitating. In the end, you’re too intrigued to do what’s best and you enter, though keeping your guard up.

You haven’t seen Jaebeom since your first and last night, and you had forgotten how beautiful he is up close. From his pellucid skin to his bloody dead irides. You feel a betraying shiver run down your back, remembering how his body felt all over yours. If you thought you could face him without any second thoughts, you were wrong. The hypnotic power he seemed to have on you hasn’t wavered the slightest. You could still run, but curiosity anchors you down.

When you enter, the vampire king is standing in the middle of this tiny darkroom, ominous. There’s a chair and a twin size bed in a corner as only furniture, and it smells of mould. Obviously, this isn’t his usual hang out spot. This is a misery chamber, you expected a secret office or something. This is closer to a dungeon than... Oh, turning to take another look at the door again, you notice the large silvery bars on a square framed window.

“What is this place?” Feeling stuffy and trapped all of a sudden, you take a step back.

“My dungeon, a secluded place. I thought it better to talk privately.” Jaebeom replies swiftly, like forcing you down here is perfectly mundane. His motives remain unclear, but you get what he means; walls here don't have ears. You already noted that. “We used it during the war, but I doubt Jackson remembers his old room and my leniency. If he did, that flea-bag wouldn’t go around doing as he pleases half as much.”

“He's my Alpha now, careful.” You cross your arms over your chest and he raises a brow.

“Forgive me,” Jaebeom apologizes, overly sarcastic, “I thought you only had his tail-wagger’ back.”

“Chan is a legacy Alpha,” you’re defensive at his evident disdain. “Won’t be tail-waggin’ forever.”

“Why do you care?!” Jaebeom snaps harshly, and his aggressive tone makes you flinch, “Defending him? Last I heard, you hated the dog for what he did to you!”

After that, you remain silent, too stunned. He is right, and you are still angry at Chan for taking your humanity. It’s just that… You've always cared deeply for him, and now whatever is said about him reflects on you. You’ve been inextricably linked since he marked you. It’s not something you can explain with words to an outsider. You just… Feel it in your bones. Jaebeom sighs, turning to press his open palms to one of the stone walls. “When you’re as old as me, you start to forget past enemies. I’ve seen a lot of werewolves go by, I never thought I should care about their bastards.” When you don't bite, the king presses you again: “I hadn’t made a mistake like that in many centuries.”

“A mistake like me,” you breathe out hollowly, starting to piece things together.

“Yes...” He shakes his head, still facing the wall. “I messed up by intervening in the woods. I single-handedly jeopardized the status of the peace treaty for you. Jinyoung formally castigated me in front of the Council.” The vampire from that night? You frown, vaguely remembering his cool demeanour throughout the confrontation with the Alpha. “I was sent away during the arraignments. I’ll be officially sanctioned tomorrow, I had never received blame from my Court before you. Not it over a thousand years of reign.”

He says it like this mess is all your fault. “Maybe you shouldn’t be talking to me, then.” You try not to sound affected. Despite you, his words hurt... And you really don’t want to wonder about why right now.

“I wanted to apologize,” Jaebeom blurts out fatally, turning to hold your gaze. “I wasn’t able to bring you home. I couldn't stay true to my word, and keep you safe.”

“Consider yourself freed from our deal, Jeonha.”

You need to leave now.

Before you’re overwhelmed before you feel like crying for everything you’ve lost. It’s not like the vampire could have changed anything anyway, or if he could have honoured that deal in the first place anyway. Apparently, a choice was made for you long before that dreadful day you were marked. When you reach for the exit, Jaebeom’s steel grip wraps around your wrists, holding you still. It was the worst idea coming in, perhaps he won’t let you leave. This was a dungeon for a wolf, and no one knows you're here.

“There’s another thing too.” He whispers, awfully closer. There’s the almost familiar coldness of his body on your back, and your heartbeat quickens, betraying. His effect is undeniable, his magnetism paralyzing. “I don’t care about what my Court said. I still wanted to see you.” His nose brushes your hair, and you know it’s making its way down to your neck. You’ve been there before, only this time, you are sure he won’t kill you. “You smell the same, you’re still more human than wolf.”

Jaebeom says this like it’s a compliment, and you shut your eyes. “So what?”

He presses his stone chest to your back, unbothered by your harsh tone. “My Shadow heard you ask about me… And I tried to neglect it, but I still have this…” He pauses then, and despite everything, the memory of your shared night haunts you. “... Craving.”

Blood, you realize. This is not about you at all. Defeated, you pull your hair aside to fully expose the little bit of collarbone your nightgown isn’t covering. He can do whatever, you won’t fight him this time, don't care if it hurts. Then he’ll probably let you go. Jaebeom lets his index run down your spine, and you clench your teeth, expecting his bite any moment.

“After you turn-.”

“I know.” You cut in sharply, eager to get this over with. His arm slides around your waist. “You hate dogs.” The vampire presses his lips on your neck, not on the same spot as last time. Again, instead of biting, he breathes you in, mouth wandering. This isn’t what you want, you shouldn’t do this. “Drink.” Frozen still, you don’t bother trying to sound like yourself.

“No,” Jaebeom hushes in your ear, absolutely shameless, “like last time.”

“I don’t want to,” you state, authoritative. The idea of betraying Chan like this makes your stomach turn. Even if you are angry, he’s still your friend and your… That. Then, there’s the rest of the pack too, and what they said about wolves with vampires. What Minho called you earlier.

“Is that so?” Jaebeom snorts, hand reaching to cup your sex over your nightgown. You catch a breath as he hums, satisfied by your reaction. “I can smell you.” Shit. You’re screwed. Already, your body is betraying you, and you press closer to his palm, craving friction. His hand doesn’t oblige though. Instead, he takes it back, letting it wander up until it finds the strings tying the collar of your long gown. You think he’ll open it, but he surprises you by spinning you in his arms. His grip closes on your wrists, holding them up. “You wear his clothes, but his scent isn't on you.”

You don’t need Jaebeom to say his name. “He comes back tomorrow.”

Something in his gaze darkens like you’ve made a mistake: “I know, I approve every dogs’ outing. Mark was right, he shouldn’t have made it so easy.” Smirking, Jaebeom releases you, apparently very amused by something. “Now that I know who you are for Jackson’s successor… I want you even more.”

‘W-What?” You don’t move, don’t even blink when his fingers slide up the interior of your thigh. This time, it’s skin to skin, under your loose clothing. He stops centimetres away from where your legs meet. “We can’t… My pack-”

Lowering himself to press a kiss on your lips, Jaebeom interrupts your protests. He doesn’t give you an answer, but you forget about everything as soon as his mouth opens yours. Your mind numbs. You forget you’re angry, forget the pack and everything about who the creature kissing you is. Even Chan is eclipsed from your thoughts for the first time in days. Jaebeom pulls back after a while, one hand to the wall and the other frozen still on your thigh.

“New deal,” he announces, voice-controlled. He’s doing way better than you. You're panting, hanging on his every word with apprehension. He's like a drug, clogging up your brain and stealing away your better judgement. “You owe me since I got into trouble trying to help you.”

“How should I repay you?” You ask in a trance. You sound more innocent than you truly are. It’s obvious what he wants, of course you know. You can feel him already hardening against you. Right now, you want him too. You don’t care about anything else.

“I forgot I have to show you everything, tidbit.” Jaebeom smiles, ruby eyes creasing. “Don’t move.” It’s not like you were planning on going anywhere anymore. You’re already too turned on to know what’s best. Sensing you’re obeying, Jaebeom kneels on the ground before you to roll up your gown. “See?” He looks up, pushing your feet apart with his knees. You seem to have learned from your first time because you don’t move to cover your sex. Jaebeom licks his lips, gaze roaming your exposed body hungrily. “I knew you were wet...”

His cold hands grip your knees to spread you and you lean back against the stone wall, weak. He hums, nose brushing your inner thighs. The vampire king kisses them one by one, making sure not to leave an inch of soft sensitive skin untouched as he climbs. If he claimed you were wet before, it was nothing. This time you know what to expect from him and you’re shivering from anticipation. Your folds are already swollen and glistening when he finally reaches his goal. Jaebeom doesn’t lose any time, icy tongue sliding up your slit once, then twice. You grip his shoulders to remain still and he lets out a hollow chuckle, entertained. His mouth works wonder, it’s even better standing like that above him. You pant, hips rocking on his face despite yourself. You don’t have any self-control whatsoever. You aren’t sure if it’s because of the imminent Full Moon or your exacerbate senses, but everything feels more intense; anger, impatience, and now pleasure, desire… Jaebeom helps himself with a finger, and it’s way more comfortable than last time. You’re so relaxed that he adds another one, pumping them leisurely into you.

Without stopping, he sits back on his heels, raising your right leg on his shoulder. Jaebeom presses kisses in your inner thigh, looking for something that he finds almost too soon. Unlike the other night, there’s no warning or build up before he bites you. His flaming eyes find yours when his fangs pierce your skin, and you yelp in surprise. Already blood drips, overflowing his mouth. Jaebeom sucks – entranced – he wasn’t too harsh this time. He cannot heal you with vampire blood, not when you’re lycanth. His fingers are still working your core, and the pleasure mixed with the burn is far from unpleasant. Your head hits the wall when you throw it back, pushing for more friction against his hand. He holds you still, sucking harsher on your thigh. His first bite is so shallow that your flow to the wound is already dwindling.

After a moment he gives up, he wants and needs more, but there are plenty of pretty veins on your body. Some are easier to conceal than others though that’s not what he wants at all. Not tonight. Not when you belong to the next Alpha. Jaebeom wants a statement, one that ensures the balance, retribution. The king hates being ridiculed, and they are far worst ways to send a message than this. At least you’re both going to enjoy yourselves tonight. He’ll make sure you get off, just like last time.

You don’t know that of course, but even then, could you have resisted him?

It’s your turn to take the lead when Jaebeom stops drinking from your thigh. You tug at his nape, forcing him up and interrupting his lapping of your wound. This time, you don’t mind the blood when your mouths meet.

Your new kiss tastes of metal, but it’s delicious.

Wild.

____

The East Wing is deserted when you emerge from the depth of the Castrum. It’s to be expected, to limit interactions between species and risk useless frictions, they are many specific rules. Werewolves aren’t allowed outside their sanctuary walls after sunset unless they have special permissions, so they usually limit themselves to their rooms. One night of freedom per month is granted of course; the Full Moon. No similar rule applies to vampires. It might seem unfair, but most can’t stand the sun and normally rest during the day anyway. So, it’s no surprise that you don’t bump into any other lycanth when you enter the common room and climb the stone stairs leading to the living quarters. Everyone is in bed, getting ready for tomorrow’s night hunt and celebrations of your first transformation.

Still, you are extra careful not to get caught when walking up the corridor, passing dozens of wooden doors along the way. You can hear the soft breathing of the sleeping wolves, but also the cracking pages of a book being read, and the scratching of graphite on paper. You furtively reach the door to your room, opening it and praying the hinges don’t betray you. They don’t.

Letting out a breath of relief, you enter. You allow yourself to make more noise once you are where you were assumed to be all along. Immediately, you stretch your sore body. Wow. That was something else entirely. You hadn’t realized Jaebeom was being so attentive on your first night. This time he was less considerate, not that you’re complaining. Smiling, you rub your thumb on the bite marks on your left wrist. You have many, you’ll have to conceal all of them tomorrow by wearing something like a long-sleeve linen shirt and pants.

You are so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice the mass on your bed at all. It’s when he sits up that you gasp, so shocked you drop the hairbrush you had just picked up on the carpet. It bounces twice before rolling on the stone floor, the faint sounds seemingly resonating throughout the whole wing. Chan looks half-dead, as though he hasn’t slept ever since he last fought with you.

“Hello,” he says, voice alarmingly placid.

You feel yourself crumble under the weight of his gaze. “You’re back.”

He drops his chin to his chest like a prayer. “I came early since I was worried...” His words hit hard, and you feel the bitter sting of guilt in your chest. Somehow you spent the whole week waiting for his return... Now it’s too late, you messed up. “I missed you,” the wolf-man snorts, rolling his eyes back, “so much. I kept wondering how you were holding up without me. Laughable isn’t I?” When he looks your way again, the bite marks on your body itch like liabilities. “You seem to be doing perfectly fine.”

“Chan,” you breathe out unevenly, heart as heavy as the moon in your chest. Whatever bliss you felt from your escapade with Jaebeom is completely gone. This is why you tried to leave. It feels like you committed high treason. Perhaps you truly did, that's the scariest thought. You should tell him you didn't go to Jaebeom willingly, it just happened. Tell him you hadn’t thought of the king for days. Instead, you let out a series of incoherence; “It’s not… I’m-”

“You smell of death.” He points out, weirdly serene. You both know it means him. “I’m exhausted, y/n. Let’s not fight, let's just go to bed.”

“H-Here?” Your eyes round, staring at him under the covers.

“It’s our den, our bed.” Chan lays down again. “You can sleep elsewhere if you can’t stand me... You seem to have other options.”

Silence settles after that, you walk up to the empty side of the canopy bed, miserable. How could you leave, even if you wanted to? The mattress protests under your weight. Sitting guardedly, you keep an eye on the young man with his back turned on you. Chan doesn’t comment and as you lay over the covers. Your heartbeat is deafening.

You are so taken aback when he breaks his muteness after over ten minutes, that you wonder if you heard right; “I don’t want us to be like them.”

“Who?” You ask, turning on your side to face him.

“Them,” he repeats as though you are supposed to figure it out. He rolls too, but his eyes remain glued to the ceiling.

This whole situation is strangely reminiscent of these nights you talked for hours, both laying on your back, staring at stars. You often went on trips together with a hunting crew from Ianua and other villages. You and Chan used to discuss anything from your childhoods to dumb stuff. Of course, back then, you had no idea he was way older than he looked, perhaps even older than gran. You had no idea he wasn’t human at all. Come to think of it, you wonder how he managed all these trips and why. Was it just to be with you? Does ‘deceive your future mate under the false pretense of friendship’ qualify for outings permissions?

“Them; Jackson and Ryujin.” You stop your breathing altogether when Chan clarifies. Ryujin, as in the queen? Shit. You had forgotten all about her... “Lycanth, we are loyal to a fault, devoted by nature. We…” He glances your way, having at least the decency of being embarrassed by himself. “... Mate for life… With our one partner.”

But you aren’t listening to him. Your head is spinning, Jackson and Ryujin. What do they have to do with each other? Isn’t she wedded to Jaebeom? Although it’s quite obvious his vows don’t keep him from sleeping with whoever he wants, whenever.

Any of you take issues of my personal life? The Alpha and Minho’s cryptic words suddenly mean much more. Jackson has a mate, trust me.

“The parasites are nothing like us.” Chan goes on as you piece things together, sounding spiteful. “They take what they covet without hesitation, they use others for their means. They are ruth-”

“I get it.” You interrupt, fighting back your irritation. Ok, now you are done feeling bad for him. No one ever explains things to you clearly in this damn castle. You’re always expected to do what is asked and understand things later on. “You hate vampires.”

“No. You don’t get it, you aren't hearing me y/n.” Chan sighs and the sound is cavernous deep. He turns to you, serious. “Vampires don’t feel like mortals or werewolves. You can’t trust him, no matter how much intimacy you share, it doesn-”

“I understand that you like me, Chan.” You’re careful not to raise your voice when you cut him off again. The last thing you want is this to escalate in another full-on fight. “And I am so sorry you feel that way, but...” You stop yourself, reading the pain on his face.

“It is my business because you’re my m-... Best friend...” He whispers, winded as though he ran for miles. “You are bitter – rightfully so – and you need time… But I’m not gonna spend my whole life picking up the pieces after him. I won’t stand sharing you. I don’t want us to be like them, I can’t.”

Though you soften slightly, you turn away to avoid his gaze. You should tell Chan that you don’t think of Jaebeom half as much as you think of him when he isn’t near, but you can’t. You’re too ashamed and resentful, both at yourself and at him.

“Maybe you should have considered that before changing me.” It sounds too mean even to you. “You knew me, so you should’ve made the right choice.”

Again, the silence following is louder than words. It takes Chan less time to cut through the tension. When he does, you can tell he's been thinking deeply about this.

“I did consider...” He waits for a few heartbeats before going on, hopeful; “I know you and I’ll wait. I know us, I made the right choice. I’m sorry I brought this up.” Chan sounds so relieved that you can’t help wanting to believe him. “We will never be like them...” There's an infallible faith to his truth.

Even though you’re exhausted, even though tomorrow marks the beginning of your new life. You don’t sleep a wink that night, torn between two fates you neither wanted nor considered before these last two weeks.

Nocturna Masterlist | HALLOWEEN

100 notes · View notes

holidayblindspot · 4 years

Text

V-Day

This is a fic by rAnsomedrOgue on FanFiction.net, who doesn’t have a Tumblr but wanted to participate. I’ll be linking her to this post, though, so if you liked the fic, please leave her a comment here! :)

***

A/N: This is all totally implausible but then again so is the entire show… Tried to write something fluffy, this is what happened.

<3 <3 <3

It was supposed to be the perfect day. He’d been thinking about it for ages. Valentine’s on a weekend, a day just for them. Time to reconnect with his wife after everything they’d been through.

Weller had filtered past a million ideas before coming up with two couple’s activities that he thought Jane would really appreciate. Things that said Jane to him, that made him push outside his own comfort zone. He didn’t want to just take her on a regular date, something boring and predictable. He loved his wife and had hurt their relationship badly. He needed to make a good showing of it.

What had boosted his confidence was the fact that she’d unexpectedly come to him the previous week, told him that she had something planned for Valentine’s Day. He’s usually the one that dealt with holidays, due to her having no memories and being raised by a terrorist.

They had ended up deciding to split the day; he got to plan the morning and afternoon, she got the evening and night.

But that all goes to shit when Weller wakes with a cloudy mind, tied to a chair.

<3 <3 <3

It had taken her forever to come up with anything good. All the traditions of holidays were baffling to her, especially blatantly commercial ones like Valentine’s Day. But she wanted to do something for Kurt, to show him how much she still loves him. They had both lied but that was behind them now. Now she just has to make sure he knows it, that he understands how much he means to her.

So Jane had google searched like mad, hadn’t even consulted with Patterson. It had to be all her effort, finding some appropriate romantic event just for Kurt.

A wormhole of key terms eventually led her to two viable options and she decided they needed to do both. When she told him that she had a date planned for Valentine’s Day he’d been completely surprised but clearly pleased. In the end it had worked out perfectly with Kurt planning daytime activities to complete the schedule. He had even looked adorably apprehensive about whatever he’d arranged, which had brought a grin to her face despite not knowing what it was.

Whatever Kurt had planned though, Jane is sure it isn’t this. Because she wakes with drug residue still in her head, their hands tied together.

<3 <3 <3

He knows it’s her by her scent, the texture of her breath. He senses the moment she stirs and rubs the side of her thumb, tells her it’s him.

They’re tied together but not gagged, which seems odd until a disembodied voice comes booming into the room.

“Welcome, Agents Weller and Doe,” the familiar snivelly voice says. “Today you face a test. The same test my own wife faced exactly seven years ago.”

Kurt groans, the source of the voice suddenly becoming clear. Edwin Scheer, a career criminal whose wife had died covering for his getaway. Weller had been the lead agent on the case, had tracked Scheer through his wife, then seen her sacrifice herself for him on Valentine’s day.

“It’s really quite simple. Whoever volunteers first will get the opportunity to die for the other. If no one volunteers, you both die by the end of the day.”

“What’s the point, you’ll just kill us both anyways,” Jane says defiantly from behind him.

“The point is, living on while suffering the guilt of bearing the sacrifice. A fate much worse than death, I’ll let you know. So no, I would certainly prefer one of you to live with the curse of eternal guilt.”

Weller knows a lot about eternal guilt, thinks how Scheer really nailed this scenario. He would definitely rather die than let Jane give her life for him. He couldn’t bear the weight of losing her, having to carry on.

She’s a runner, he knows that all too well. Also prone to being self-sacrificial, always willing to take it for the team. He can’t let her do it for him, even if it means Scheer wins.

Overprotectiveness is stamped in his DNA. He needs to save her, despite the cost. Before she takes the plunge herself.

Weller is about to open his mouth, let out panicked impulsive words when Jane grabs his hand, squeezes hard.

<3 <3 <3

He’s about to do it, fall straight into the Kurt Weller trap.

Jane reaches for him, clamps down on his fingers fiercely.

No, her hands say. You are not making this decision alone. We are in this together.

At the same time she bites back her own voice, the one that wants to yell ‘me, pick me, kill me, save him.’ Of course she would die to save Kurt, that’s the whole point.

Whoever this guy is, he’s been watching, obviously knows both their weaknesses. But right now, in a completely pitch black room, he’s probably only listening. They need a plan that doesn’t require either of them sacrificing themselves. And some method of communicating it without being heard.

She makes a pattern in his palm, uses her touch to tell him to calm down, think. When his breathing evens out she starts to fiddle with the knots on their hands, feels him use his fingers to expand the ropes, create more slack.

“This isn’t going to work,” Jane says, trying to distract their captor. “We’re not going to give in to your mind games.”

“Oh that’s what you think. There’s hours to go yet, plenty of time to think about the pointlessness of you both dying. Then there’s the part where you both get suspicious that the other is going to betray the pact, I almost can’t wait. Will there be arguing? Silence right up until one of you can’t hold back anymore? This is when you find out what someone is really made of. I know I’ll never be worthy of my wife. Now what will you find out about each other today?”

That we are stronger than this bullshit, Jane thinks to herself.

“We’ve got this, Kurt. We’re in this together,” she says. “I trust you with your life.”

<3 <3 <3

He snaps out of it just in time, the words about to slip off his tongue. Her fingers remind him that she’s there, that they’re not making decisions alone anymore. Then it’s her confident tone that slices through his fear, tells him she’s not going to run this time.

“I trust you too,” he replies. “No more secrets.”

Scheer laughs, snorts in response.

“It’s only been ten minutes,” he says. “Let’s see how long that lasts.”

Weller has to admit the psychopath is right, that the relative calm he currently feels will decrease steadily as time passes. But it helps that Jane has nearly freed their hands, just needs him to stretch out the ropes a bit more to get through the knots.

When their hands are untied they both quietly undo their leg restraints, then reach for each other once completely free of the ropes. The next step would be to stand and search the room that they’re in but first they need to cover the noises they’re going to make.

He’s trying to come up with some sort of conversation that doesn’t feed into the current problem when Jane starts talking, a bit louder than necessary and throwing her voice off the wall.

“So, what am I missing out on, Kurt?” she asks, while standing up slowly.

“What do you mean?” he replies, genuinely confused about her question but understanding her intent. He stands up as well, makes sure to hide any noise with his words.

“Your part of our Valentine’s date,” she says. “What were we going to do?”

Kurt groans internally, not entirely confident on the choices he had made. He had wanted to do something different, uniquely Jane. But of course then it had to be somewhat risky, because she certainly wasn’t a ‘normal’ girl.

He definitely did not want to talk about this in front of anyone other than Jane, but it was a relevant conversation to have while they silently stepped around the room, looking for an escape route. So he reaches for her hand, pulls her to him and blindly plants a kiss on her knuckles.

“Well, to start, there was this couple’s bikram yoga session,” he says, using his free hand to guide her by the hip as they slip across the floor.

“You? Yoga?” she asks, clearly surprised.

“I stretch,” he grumbles, feeling for the wall.

“But you don’t like it,” Jane replies.

“Yeah well, you do,” he says. “And it sounded kind of hot.”

She tugs hard at his hand in response, slips closer.

“It would have been very hot,” she whispers, just for him. “You’re full of surprises.”

“I would have liked that,” she says louder, as they continue around the room. “But I know that’s not all you had planned.”

Weller feels the walls, finds one locked door with what sounds like a guard behind it and nothing else of significance. He sighs to himself as he realizes they’ve almost completed a whole lap with no results.

“There was an art show too,” he admits. “A contemporary exhibit called Falling Love. At a pop up gallery that features different mediums.”

He says the words like he’s reading them off a pamphlet, has little sense of what most of them really mean. But he’d memorized it to tell her, just feels incredibly awkward doing so.

Jane relieves all of his worry with a laugh, wraps her arms around him from behind as they finish checking the walls.

“It sounds perfect,” she says, muffled into his back. “I love it.”

<3 <3 <3

Her husband is adorable. She sometimes forgets this in their danger filled day to day lives. But couple’s yoga and an art show? Those were not Kurt Weller activities. The fact that he was so willing to push his boundaries and explore her interests was beyond her expectations, made her feel flush with warmth.

She hugs him tight for as long as she dares, then puts her hands on his shoulders, trying to tell him what they should do next. Kurt picks up on her idea right away and squats down so she can climb on. Then, once she’s securely sitting on his shoulders, they start around the room again, searching for any vents or windows they could use to escape.

“So, what were we going to do after the art show?” Kurt asks, with real curiosity in his tone.

Jane grins to herself, hopes he appreciates her plans as much as she loved his.

“Well, first there was a true crime whisky tasting tour,” she says as she feels along the walls and the ceiling. “It’s prohibition themed and on an old trolley through Brooklyn. With specialty whisky flights and underground tours.”

“Whiskey and gangsters?” Kurt says with a grin she can hear. “Sounds perfectly sinful.”

He wraps his arms around her legs even tighter and she reaches down to run her fingers through his hair for a moment.

“Not as sinful as a chocolate buffet,” she replies.

“What?” he exclaims, all gleefully surprised. “You’re not serious.”

Jane laughs, leans down to kiss him on top of his head.

“Yes, there’s an entire buffet of chocolate at the Ritz and we had reservations. Plus, a room for the night, to recover from the whisky and sugar hangover.”

“Nooooooo,” Kurt moans. “How have I never heard of this chocolate buffet before?”

Jane shakes her head in amusement just before it almost smacks straight into a vent. Luckily she manages to see it in time and taps on Kurt to stop walking.

“What do they have at this buffet?” he asks as she takes out her hairpin and starts to unscrew the cover of the vent.

“Everything you can imagine,” she replies. “Pastries, cakes, fondue, crepes. Samples from all the best chocolatiers. Oh, fudge and ice cream too, of course.”

She’s got the grate off, passes it down to Kurt. Is about to crawl into the vent but he clutches onto her legs, refuses to let her go.

<3 <3 <3

Jane’s about to go into the vent they found when he realizes the problem. If they stop talking, they’re going to get figured out quickly.

Weller grabs onto her legs so she can’t get off his shoulders, knows he has to think fast or else she’s going to get impatient and just go anyways.

“That sounds too good to be true,” he says. “I can’t believe we’re stuck here because of me when we should be on the perfect date instead.”

“It’s not your fault, Kurt,” Jane replies, after a barely noticeable pause. “We’ll get through this together.”

“No, Jane. It is all my fault, you weren’t even around when this Scheer case happened,” he states. “You got dragged into this because of me. I can’t let you die here.”

“What, we just talked about this, Kurt!” she fires back. “You don’t get to make that decision.”

“I didn’t say I’d made a decision,” he argues. “Don’t put words in my mouth, I just said I can’t let you die here.”

“Which is the same thing as saying you’re going to give up on us, give up on what we decided together. So what’s the point of me even saying anything if you’re not going to respect my opinion?”

Her voice is steaming but she’s kissing the top of his head, holding him tightly from above.

“So what, you’re going to give me the silent treatment until we die here? What the hell is that going to solve?”

He squeezes her leg a specific number of times. Then does it again to confirm.

“It’ll stop me from yelling at you instead.”

She responds by reaching for his hand, gives him the same message back. Twice, like he had done.

“Fine, if that’s how you feel about this then don’t talk to me.”

He brings her thumb to his lips, plants a lingering kiss.

“Done.”

He pushes her into the vent with the last of their words and offers a silent prayer to keep her safe. Because their argument may have been fake but Weller wasn’t lying when he said he couldn’t let her die there, no matter the cost.

<3 <3 <3

Jane climbs the vent straight up for a few floors before finding an exit into an unoccupied storage room. The building appears to be an abandoned warehouse and she sees no one around as she sneaks back down towards the basement.

She wonders where Scheer is, whether he’s in the warehouse, wants to do his own dirty work. It seems unlikely though, based on the state of the place. There’s nothing in it except dust and a few stray auto parts.

Jane slinks through the structure, finds a piece of broken rebar to use as a weapon. Eventually she finds a set of stairs that runs straight down towards the basement where Kurt is. For a moment she stands listening for any movement and lets herself think about the day that should have been, how fitting it was that this was what they got instead. All she can do is sigh at the circumstances, return her head to the task at hand. Kurt was still waiting for her to get him out, she needs to come through for him.

As she nears the bottom of the stairs Jane starts to move in stealthy ninja steps, peaks around the corner to see the door to their prison, the guard sitting directly in front of it. Of course the approach down the stairs is long and comes right at him, impossible to make without dying long before she gets to the door.

So Jane forces herself to be patient and wait for Kurt’s move. She had made it there in time; trusts him to play his part in their silent plan.

<3 <3 <3

When the time comes, Weller makes a racket; yells that he’s done with the game. Hollers at an imaginary Jane that he’s giving up so she can have a better life without him, because it’s obviously what she wants.

It hurts even just to say it but he has to make it realistic. Then he waits behind the door for whatever is going to happen.

Almost immediately he hears the sound of the lock turning, the door scraping ajar. So there had been a guard right there, ready to come in and kill the on command, Kurt thinks.

Weller readies himself for action, waits for the guard to recognize the situation. But then the light flicks on suddenly before the door is thrown open, momentarily blinding him. He’s a sitting duck, trying to decide whether to just launch himself at his opponent without being able to see anything when he hears Jane tackle the guy just in time.

By the time Kurt’s pupils have adjusted to the light, she’s already got the guy pinned, is giving him one more punch to the head for good measure. Then they tie the guard up with the ropes they’d escaped from before taking his gun and using his fingerprint to start his cell phone.

It’s easy to identify the number the guard’s been contacting Scheer on and Weller gets Patterson on tracing it immediately. Within seconds she’s got an address and less than half an hour later she reports back that Scheer’s been killed in a shootout.

Weller double checks the perp is tied up securely and grabs his wife, leads her out into the light.

<3 <3 <3

Kurt wraps his arms around her, pushes her through the door and up the stairs. He feels so real and comforting behind her, her scruffy human security blanket.

Of course they made it out, she thinks. It couldn’t be any other way.

Not long ago she thought it was gone. The trust between them.

He had lied, she had lied. Big ones too, hurtful ones.

But in a dark room with only each other she had trusted him with all of her heart. The one still beating in her chest, that belongs only to him.

They had believed in each other, communicated perfectly.

It wasn’t the ideal date, the possible death part a bit too much. But it had been pretty hot, she thinks. Stealthily wrapped around Kurt, talking by touch.

Outside they wait for backup, forensics. Kurt still surrounds her, swallowing her up in his warmth.

“I’m sorry we missed our day,” he grumbles in her ear.

“It would have been perfect,” she agrees, smiling at the mental images of yoga with Weller. “You picked the most thoughtful things.”

Kurt squeezes tight, spins her around so she’s facing him. He’s wearing his familiar crooked smile, adoring and self-satisfied all at once.

“I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate you,” he says, so sincerely it hurts.

“Oh Kurt, I know,” she replies, reaching up to kiss him.

He pulls her in fiercely, hungrily. Relinquishes her lips only when sirens surround them, pull up close.

Still she’s encased in his arms, he refuses to release her even as agents start to hover close by.

“You’re going to have to let me go,” she says, her tone tinted in bemusement.

“Never,” he replies seriously. “You’re my valentine, Jane.”

She beams at him, a million lumens bright.

“But if we give our statements right away we can still make the chocolate buffet,” she says.

The boyish gleam in his eyes makes her giggle, snatch another kiss.

“I love the way your mind works,” he mumbles into her throat. “I love everything about you, Jane.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day Kurt. I love that we did this, together,” she mutters in return. “It wasn’t what we planned. But I think it turned out perfect.”

Kurt grins, squeezes her so tight she forgets to breathe for a second. Then she sneaks in one more kiss as they stand there entwined, ready to take on the world together.

#blindspot #blindspot fanfic #blindspot valentine #jeller

27 notes · View notes

polvillodecanela · 4 years

Text

OC- Tober Day 2: Mercy

Uh oh I really enyojed this one. At first I thought of making it mercy-less, with lots and lots of gore and soul sucking but… my character just… not? like Idk what happened. It ended being really mercy-ful and I think that is beautiful.

I got to know my character more and more.. I think we are friends now that we understand each other more or less good. So enjoy as much as I did.

This, as the last one is in spanish and in english.

@oc-growth-and-development

The young man was hanging upside down. Oh well, Hong wasn’t quite sure if the hanged was young or not. Everything was deceptive with them. Everything worked against him. Until two minutes ago, Hong thought the hanged was human. He had been wrong and almost paid dearly for his indiscretion, if the boy had been more willing to fight. He wasn´t. That too could be misleading.

Hong was also deceptive himself. Walking through the crowded streets of the towns looking at jewelry and stealing emotions. Harvesting, rather, emotions. He particularly liked the taste of wonder. It was sweet but not overly sweet, like joy; It wasn’t sticky either, like adrenaline; it was warm without being hot, like shame; it wasn’t just lukewarm either, like desire - who would say ah? -. The hanging boy groaned and Hong lifted his head.

The young man was trying to loosen up, he saw the little rays coming from his hands. A new convert then. Hong hit the young boy’s head with a bat. Let him hung up lax again. Hong sat on the floor waiting for the boy’s “owner” to arrive. While he waited, he gave himself a second to ponder. How come such a simple mission had gone so wrong? It was supposed to be a relatively easy mission. Find the colony of yellows, extract the riches and eliminate them. But of course, the intelligence had been defective and they had ended up in that British camp heavily seized by soldiers.

They were idiots, those Westerners, with their firearms and their pretense of knowledge, with the arrogance that their stature probably gave them. Human beings are pathetic in many ways, he told himself. He had to lack any mercy and eliminate them all. Pride tasted like meat gone rotten, yet neither he nor his men were going to waste what they were given so freely. The soldiers now seemed like if they were asleep all in their beds. If someone came they would not know exactly what had happened. No, he corrected himself, if someone came and they had already left, otherwise it would be another unnecessary bloodbath.

Then there was the young man. He was dressed as a servant and appeared to be stunned. What was the two well-placed blows to the head doing. The young man was not yet very dexterous and he was a yellow - of that Hong was quite sure - because of the color of his eyes and the rays that came from his hands. If he was a recent convert perhaps his “lord” was looking for him. If he had escaped … well, he was going to give him 2 hours or so, if he didn’t show up he would get rid of him. Maybe the boy had answers.

Hong adjusted his long braid and addressed the young man’s face. He was a Chinese boy just like everyone else. Same as his own. He seemed little fed. It was more likely that he had escaped then. He slapped him twice on the face. The boy’s eyes widened.

“I’m going to speak only once. I don’t like being interrupted. I don’t like repeating what I say. Was I clear?”

The young man nodded.

“What is your name?”

“Zhan WuCheng.”

“Good, WuCheng. Who created you?”

The boy looked puzzled, or was his face hanging at a strange angle? Maybe, still, Hong wasn’t going to let him go.

“I don’t understand what you mean, sir.”

“Now, let’s see. Have you been in a lot of pain lately?”

The boy paled.

“N- No. No sir.”

“You are about to , so you better answer me. I already said, I don’t like to repeat myself. Who created you?”

“I don’t know him” then he added quickly “sir.”

“Could you describe him?”

“More or less, sir.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds until the young man understood.

“He … calls himself >”

Qiannián! Finally, a lead.

“Keep going.”

The young man’s face was starting to turn an unhealthy reddish color. With a twist of his dagger the hanged fell to the ground. It sounded like a sack of rice.

“Good” the young man cleaned some dirt and sat on the floor “I… I-I escaped, sir. I overheard that they had done this to me” pointing to himself “because they wanted to feed a baby and I was scared. I ran and the soldiers found me.”

A baby. Twisted bastard. A baby. How? Qiannián’s special convert was a man. That was blacker magic than that was allowed. If you violate nature more than she allows it, she will take revenge. Hong and her men were nature’s revenge. Hong Smiled.

“Okay” he said sitting down on the floor “tell me where they had you.”

He handed the boy a piece of parchment and a piece of granite. The boy did his best to make a fairly recognizable map of the mountains: ups, downs, a secret passageway to get behind the monster’s mansion. He also tried to explain to Hong about the unusual amount of things in that house, how the servants looked like puppets. Hong knew they were, a > without a soul is even worse than a human without one. Hong tried to smile as warmly as he could. He was feeling a cold feeling on his chest. He liked the boy.

“Well” Hong looked the boy in the eye “ I’ll have to tell you something. You will die”

“ Good Sir please, no, don’t kill me! Have mercy on me!”

“I am merciful, believe me. But the moment I finish with … that, with the one who did this to you” he touched the young’s shoulder solemnly “you are going to evaporate, it could be painful, we don’t know. I can’t do anything for you.”

“So… Is it better if I go on my terms?”

“It can be arranged, yes” he hesitated “How old are you?”

“Fourteen, sir.”

Misleading. Acid rose in his throat. The boy was thinking of leaving on his own and he wasn’t going to stop him. He took his dagger and blew some of his sadness into it. With emotions it hurts less, if Hong wanted to make it explode he would do it with his blood. He gave it to the boy.

“When you’re ready, WuCheng.”

“By the way, sir. They have peacocks. They are very pretty.”

Then, Hong turned his face away until he was sure the boy had done it. Only his clothes remained. He had – hopefully - peacefully vanished.

With the sour taste in his mouth Hong decided to take his men and, using the boy’s map, they climbed the mountains and found the house. It reeked of death.

Death, in case you want to know, tastes strangely… delicious, it varies from devourer to devourer, it varies even with the mood of the prey. To Hong, death tasted like an exquisite piece of pork tenderloin, slowly smoked and cooked underground in its juices with a glass of cool, cool liquor. The problem with drinking from someone until they died is that it is addictive and you end up - like Qiannián - renewing life to take it away again and again. It was monstrous.

Now, the taste of death was wonderful, but the smell was the same that humans could, if they tried, smell. They obviously didn’t, otherwise Qiannián wouldn’t have that much power. He couldn’t have created a baby. Hong had a strange and twisted curiosity to see the strange baby. Maybe he hadn’t been born, that was something he had to consider. He would not let it be born.

They entered right through the tunnel the boy had described. They eliminated three or four servants.

“Divide. You have to find the clan owners before they escape” then after a pause “there are peacocks, very pretty, my mother will like them. Send the signal for those who are close by enough to come.”

He walked calmly through the corridors, stabbing some servants who exploded in colors and lights. Without making a single noise, by the way. They were more dead than alive.

Hong thought he was doing them a favor and he was probably right.

“Sir! The other knows we are here. He was going downstairs. He looked… round.”

Perfect. He grasped his sword, stained with his own blood, and ran like a madman through those alleys that wound further and further down. The yellow ones lightly illuminated the path with their multicolored explosions and the smell of burning meat grew stronger and stronger.

In front of him and his men: A huge, heavy door. However, the screams of a woman could be heard. She spoke english. She asked for mercy. Laughter was heard. Hong nodded his head once and his men entered like a flock of wild birds. With their swords they finished off the two monsters.

When Hong walked in he saw the milky little jars on the floor and up, up, suspended in two cages. There were two people.

“ Chandra” said one of them, the young man.

They were very badly dressed. The poor girl’s black curls were in an indefinite mass and her pretty green dress was in tatters. The young man was not so bad. They both had green eyes. With another nod of his head his men carefully dropped the cages.

The young woman could not remain standing. Hong held her very carefully. She was crying in silence. The poor thing smelled very bad.

“I have saved your life, human” he said, looking at the young man “ you owe me something.”

“If you’re going to milk me, I’m already broken,” He answered defiantly.

He wasn’t broken at all. Hong laughed. The young man was startled.

“No, no, no. A few years of your service would be enough for us.”

“Years you say” the other frowned.

The young lady was so tired that she had collapsed on the floor. One of hong’s men was offering her some water. She drank like she hadn’t in days. Perhaps that was the case.

“Yes, maybe fifteen”

To his surprise the other young man laughed out loud. No, he definitely wasn’t broken at all.

“ You are insane, buddy.”

When the girl reacted from her stupor, she got up and lunged at the other young man. It sucked the air out of his lungs.

“ God “V”, you’re going to kill me”

She was grinning. Her lips were chapped, her face looked like unpolished silver, and her dark circles were strongly marked. Nonetheless, she looked beautiful. Hong found himself staring at her more than he should. Hong extended his hand to the young man

“Hong” he said solemnly “my family’s name is Hong.”

“and yours? Like… your name“ The young woman asked him. She was open with curiousity.

“It’s none of your business.”

“Bradley” the young man replied with a squeeze “my family name is Bradley, hers is Quincy. Thanks for saving us.”

“ It was nothing, actually, we were looking for the peacocks.”

_______________________________

El joven colgaba de cabeza. Oh bien, no era muy seguro si era joven o no. Todo era engañoso con ellos. Todo jugaba en contra. Hasta hacía dos minutos Hong pensaba que era humano. Se había equivocado y casi paga muy caro por su indiscreción, si el chico hubiera estado más dispuesto a pelear. No lo estaba. Eso también podía ser engañoso.

Hong también era engañoso en sí mismo. Caminando por las atestadas calles de los pueblos mirando joyas y robando emociones. Cosechando, más bien, emociones. Le gustaba particularmente el sabor del asombro. Era dulce pero no hostigarte, como la alegría; tampoco era pegajoso, como la adrenalina; era cálido sin ser ardiente, como la vergüenza; tampoco era demasiado tibio, como el deseo - ¿Quién lo diría ah? -. El chico que colgaba soltó un gemido y Hong levantó la cabeza.

Estaba tratando de soltarse, veía los pequeños rayos de sus manos. Un recién convertido entonces. Le golpeó la cabeza con un bate. Volvió a colgar laxo. Hong se sentó en el piso a esperar que llegara el “dueño” del chico. Mientras esperaba se dio un segundo para cavilar ¿Cómo es que una misión tan sencilla se había torcido tanto? Se suponía que era una misión relativamente fácil. Encontrar la colonia de amarillos, extraer las riquezas y eliminarlos. Pero claro, la inteligencia había sido defectuosa y habían terminado en ese campamento británico fuertemente apresados por soldados.

Eran imbéciles esos occidentales, con sus armas de fuego y sus ínfulas de conocimiento, con la arrogancia que su estatura probablemente les daba. Los seres humanos son patéticos de muchas formas, se dijo. Tuvo que carecer de piedad alguna y eliminarlos a todos. El orgullo sabía cómo una carne echada a perder, sin embargo, ni él ni sus hombres iban a desperdiciar aquello que se les daba con tanta libertad. Los soldados ahora parecían dormidos todos en sus camastros. Si alguien llegaba no sabría exactamente qué había ocurrido. No, se corrigió, si alguien llegaba y ellos ya se habían ido, de lo contrario sería otro baño de sangre innecesario.

Luego estaba el joven. Tenía vestimenta de sirviente y parecía estar aturdido. Lo que hacen dos golpes bien puestos en la cabeza. Aun no era muy diestro y era un amarillo – de eso estaba bien seguro – por el color de los ojos y de los rayos que salieron de sus manos. Si era un recién converso tal vez su “señor” lo estaba buscando. Si se había escapado… bueno, le iba a dar 2 horas más o menos, si no aparecía se desharía de él. Tal vez el chico tenía respuestas.

Hong se ajustó su larga trenza y se dirigió al rostro del joven. Era un chico chino igual que todos los demás. Igual que el propio. Parecía poco alimentado. Era más probable que se hubiera escapado entonces. Le dio dos palmadas en la cara. El chico abrió los ojos desubicado.

- Voy a hablar una sola vez. No me gusta que me interrumpan. No me gusta repetir lo que digo ¿Entendido?

El joven asintió.

- ¿Cómo te llamas?

- Zhan WuCheng.

- Bien, WuCheng. ¿Quién te creó?

El chico parecía perplejo, o era que la cara le colgaba en un ángulo extraño. Igual no iba a soltarlo.

- No entiendo lo que me quiere decir, señor.

- Ya, veamos. ¿Has sentido mucho dolor últimamente?

El chico palideció.

- N- No. No señor.

- Estas a punto de sentir mucho, así que más te vale que me respondas. Ya dije, no me gusta que me hagan repetir. ¿Quién te creó?

- No le conozco – luego agregó rápidamente – señor.

- ¿Podrías describirlo?

- Más o menos, señor.

Se quedaron mirándose unos cuantos segundos hasta que el joven entendió.

- Él… se hace llamar “el milenario”

¡Qiannián! Finalmente, una pista.

- Continúa.

La cara del joven estaba empezando a ponerse de un color rojizo no muy saludable. Con un giro de su daga el convertido cayó al piso. Sonó como un saco de arroz.

- Bien – el joven se limpió un poco de tierra y se quedó sentado en el piso – yo… y-yo escapé, señor. Oí, sin querer, que me habían hecho “esto”- señalándose a sí mismo – porque querían alimentar un bebé y me asusté. Hui y los soldados me encontraron.

Un bebé. Bastardo retorcido. Un bebé. ¿Cómo? El convertido especial de Qiannián era un hombre. Eso era magia más negra de la que se podía usar. Si violentas a la naturaleza más de lo que ella lo permite, se va a vengar. Hong y sus hombres eran la venganza de la naturaleza. Sonrió.

- De acuerdo – le dijo sentándose en el piso – dime donde te tenían.

Le alcanzó al chico un pedazo de pergamino y un trozo de granito. El chico hizo lo posible para hacer un mapa medianamente reconocible de las montañas: subidas, bajadas, un pasadizo secreto para llegar por detrás de la mansión del monstruo. Trató también de explicarle sobre la cantidad inusitada de cosas en aquella casa, como los sirvientes parecían marionetas. Hong sabía que lo eran, un vacío sin alma es aún peor que un humano sin una. Hong se dedicó a sonreírle lo más cálido que podía. Tenía un frío en la espalda. El chico le agradaba.

- Está Bien – Hong miró al chico a los ojos - Deberé decirte algo. Vas a morir.

- ¡Señor por favor, no, no me mate! ¡Tenga piedad de mí!

- La tengo. Pero en el momento en el que acabe con … eso, con el que te hizo esto – le tocó el hombro solemne – vas a evaporarte, podría ser doloroso, no lo sabemos. No puedo hacer nada por ti.

- Entonces… ¿Es mejor que me vaya en mis términos?

- Puede arreglarse, si – titubeó - ¿Qué edad tienes?

- Catorce, señor.

Engañoso. Le subió acido por la garganta. El chico estaba pensando en irse por sus propios medios y no lo iba a detener. Tomó su daga y sopló un poco de su tristeza en ella. Con emociones duele menos, si quisiera hacerlo estallar lo haría con su sangre. Se la dio al chico.

- Cuando estés listo, WuCheng.

- Algo más, señor. Tienen pavos reales. Son muy bonitos.

Y volteó el rostro hasta que estuvo seguro que el chico lo había hecho. Quedaban solo sus ropas. Se había esfumado pacíficamente, o eso esperaba.

Con el sinsabor en la boca decidió tomar a sus hombres y, usando el mapa del chico, subieron las montañas y encontraron la casa. Olía a muerte.

La muerte, por si quieren saber, tiene un sabor extrañamente … delicioso, varía de devorador a devorador, varía incluso con el estado de animo de la presa. A Hong la muerte le sabía a un exquisito trozo de lomo de cerdo ahumado lentamente y cocinado bajo tierra en sus jugos con un vaso de licor frio y fresco. El problema con beber de alguien hasta que muere es que es adictivo y terminas – como Qiannián – renovando vida para quitarla una y otra vez.

Ahora, el sabor de la muerte era maravilloso pero el olor era el mismo que podían, si se esforzaban, percibir los humanos. Obviamente no lo hacían, de lo contrario Qiannián no tendría tanto poder. No hubiera podido crear un bebé. Hong tenía una extraña y retorcida curiosidad por ver al dichoso bebé. Tal vez no había nacido, eso era algo que debía considerar. No dejaría que naciera.

Entraron justo por el túnel que el chico había descrito. Eliminaron a tres o cuatro sirvientes.

- Divídanse. Hay que encontrar a los dueños del clan antes que se escapen – luego, después de una pausa – hay pavos reales, muy bonitos, a mi madre le gustarán. Manden la señal para que los que estén cerca vengan.

Caminó tranquilo por los pasillos, acuchilló algunos sirvientes que explotaban en colores y luces. Sin hacer un solo ruido, por cierto. Estaban más muertos que vivos. Hong pensó que les estaba haciendo un favor y probablemente estaba en lo cierto.

- ¡Señor! El otro sabe que estamos aquí, iba hacia la planta baja. Se veía… redondo.

Perfecto. Empuñó su espada, manchada con su propia sangre y corrió como un demente por aquellos callejones que serpenteaban más y más hacia abajo. Los amarillos iluminaban levemente el camino con sus explosiones multicolores y el olor a quemado se hacía cada vez mas fuerte.

Frente a él y sus hombres: Una puerta enorme, pesada. Se oían, sin embargo, los gritos de una mujer. Hablaba inglés. Pedía piedad. Se oían risas. Hong asintió una vez con su cabeza y sus hombres entraron como una bandada de pájaros salvajes. Con sus espadas terminaron con los dos monstruos.

Cuando Hong entró vio los frascos lechosos en el piso y arriba, muy arriba, suspendidos en dos jaulas. Había dos personas.

- Chandra – le dijo el joven.

Estaban muy mal trajeados. La pobre joven tenía los rizos negros hechos una masa indefinida y el bonito vestido verde estaba hecho trizas. El joven no estaba tan mal. Ambos tenían ojos verdes. Con otro asentimiento de su cabeza sus hombres dejaron caer con cuidado las jaulas.

La joven no podía permanecer en pie. Hong la sostuvo con mucho cuidado. Lloraba en silencio. La pobre olía muy mal.

- He salvado tu vida, humano – les dijo, mirando al joven – me deben algo.

- Si me vas a ordeñar pues ya estoy roto – le contestó, desafiante.

No estaba nada roto. Hong se rio. El otro joven se sobresaltó.

- No, no, no. Con unos años de su servicio nos bastaría.

- Años dices – el otro frunció el ceño.

La señorita estaba tan cansada que se había dejado caer en el piso. Uno de sus hombres estaba ofreciéndole algo de agua. Bebía como si no lo hubiera hecho en días. De pronto ese era el caso.

- Si, unos quince tal vez.

Ante su sorpresa el otro joven rio fuertemente. No, no estaba nada roto.

- Está demente.

Cuando la chica reaccionó de su estupor se levantó y embistió al otro joven. Le sacó el aire de los pulmones.

- Por Dios “V”, vas a matarme.

Ella sonreía abiertamente. Tenía los labios partidos, la cara parecía de plata sin pulir y tenía unas ojeras fuertemente marcadas. No obstante, se veía hermosa. Hong se encontró mirándola más de lo que debía. Le extendió la mano al joven

- Hong – dijo solemne – el nombre de mi familia es Hong.

- ¿y el tuyo? – La joven le preguntó. Desprendía curiosidad.

- No es tu asunto.

- Bradley – el otro joven respondió con un apretón – el nombre de mi familia es Bradley, el de ella es Quincy. Gracias por salvarnos.

- Bueno si, buscábamos los pavos reales.

#Yes i did have fun with this one #I'm planning the one for tomorrow ejeje #pre canon #oc lore #Hong ChengNing #Liu Hong #Gold #Some eater lore too because I need to get to know my monsters #A little snippet of arthur and veronica just because #oc tober #oc-tober

1 note · View note

berrydollgore-blog · 4 years

Text

~Sweet Serial Killer~

Henry Bowers x Reader

Chapter One;

It was a cool Autumn day, you sat in your 1967 black Chevy impala outside the school. It wasn't time to go into the school and your grandmother had woken you up super early. Thinking you wouldn't get up in time to actually make it to the school. You'd been kicked out of your parents house after shaving a girls hair off, she had bullied you and you had finally had enough. You sat there taking a puff of your Salem Cigarettes as 80's rock blasted through your speakers. You had your chair leaned back and was taking in the morning sun when a sudden bang on the roof of your car scared you out of your fantasy. You leaned your chair back up and peaked at the girl who had hit your roof, she had a disgusted look on her face.

"Can I help you?" you asked taking another puff of smoke. The girl had her hair in a pony tail and large round earnings. She wore a ping shirt with a jean jacket over it. "You know smoking is bad right? My dad says you can get lung cancer from it." She spoke, a sour tone in her voice as she looked at you and then to another girl. The girl had long red hair and was wearing a blue dress. "Why does that matter? It's not like your smoking it." You spoke, flicking the butt out on in the ground in front of her. "She squeaked and stepped back, staring daggers at you. "You better watch it bitch, I'm not one you want to mess around with." She growled, stepping on the butt. "Oh wow, Your already threatening me and yet...I don't even know who you are princess." You chuckled opening your car door, standing in front of her. You were taller then her by a few inches and this shocked her. "Don't call me Princess, that's only for Pat! " She spoke flipping her hair and walking away, you just sighed and shook your head. '...what a cunt' you thought as you chuckled to yourself.

You began walking to the doors when the red head walked up to you with a Cigarette in her mouth. "You got a light? I forgot my lighter at home.." She asked shyly. You nodded taking out your pack of cigarettes and pulled out the lighter, lighting her cigarette for her. She thanked you and looked at you up and down, and chuckled to herself. "Something funny Annie?" You chuckled and she waved her hand. "Oh nothing, I'm just trying to figure out if your new or not and why Greta would even bother fucking with you." She laughed as you pulled out your on cigarette and lighting it. "Yea I'm new, and that's what miss stuck up's name is? Fits her perfectly." You laugh as you both walked over to the stairs, leaning against the railing. "So what's your name, or am I going to have to keep calling you Annie? " You asked looking at the girl closer, she was pretty indeed, her hair was a bright orange color. Almost a pumpkin orange if the light hit it just right. "It's Beverly, but my friends just call me Bev. How about you stranger, what's your name?" She nugged your arm with her own and you smiled, pulling your sunglasses over (Y/H/C) and looked at her. "I"m Y/N, I just moved here last week. You seem like a nice person." You shrugged looking across the school front lawn and see two boys arguing. "OH boy here we go again, they can never stop arguing." Bev laughed as she grabbed your arm pulling you to-words the two younger boys.

"Ed's I'm not joking, your mom and I had a fun time last night. I'm not surprised you didn't sleep~" The boy with glasses spoke as he pushed up his glasses. "Ew Richie that's fucking disgusting!" The other boy who you guessed was named Ed spoke smacking Richie's arm. "Well hello there beautiful, glad to see you again...who's this ?" Richie asked looking at You and Bev. "This is y/n, she's new here and I figured she'd need some friends here. y/n this is Richie and Eddie." She smiled as you waved to the other boys. "Nice to meet you guys, I couldn't help but notice you two arguing? And if i'm correct I heard a mom joke?" You asked raising your eyebrow. Richie started chucking to himself as he nodded. "Yes, yes you did. But now that we have names out of the way, we should find the others." Eddie spoke rolling his eyes. He had a cast on his arm that read "Losers" with a 'V' over the 'S'. "Lovers?" You asked peering at the cast, the boy nodded and held it up closer for you to view. "Mind if I sign it?" you asked and he nodded, you pulled out a green marker and wrote your name on it with a small heart next to it. "There now, it's much more colorful." You chuckled placing the marker behind your ear. "H-H-Hey guys, s-s-sorry I'm late. Mom n-n-needed helping getting r-r-ready." A boy spoke pulling up on a silver bike, he had three other boys following behind him. "Hey Bill, I want you to meet Y/N" Bev spoke putting out her cigarette as the first bell rang. You met Mike, Ben, Bill and Stanley before heading to your first class. Math; Calculus to be exact, you groaned and walked into the class, taking the far back corner seat before anyone else had walked in.

Everyone finally walked in and took their seats as you looked out the window, everyone was looking at you like you had just had your head blown off. "I'm guessing your new here." A girl spoke from in front of you, you merely nodded and sighed. "I'd be cautions sitting there, that's the seat next to Bowers. " This raised your interest. "Who's Bowers?" You asked leaning forward in your chair, the girl bit her lip and a sudden door slamming open answered your question. "T-That's Bowers...Henry Bowers.." She squeaked as a kid walked in, sporting a dirty blond mullet and a no sleeved shirt. You'd be lying if you said he wasn't your type. But based on how scared the girl was in front of you, told you that this guy was not someone to hang out with. He walked to the back where you were and sat in the chair to your right. He placed his feet on the table and quickly looked over in your direction, you kept your eyes on the front. Not wanting to peer over to see what he looked like up close. Henry was taking in your features, your strong jaw and defiantly your fashion sense. He balled up a couple paper balls and tossed them at a few kids in the class and then lastly you. You wiped your head around and came face to face with Henry Bowers. "The fuck do you want?" You asked in a hushed tone, not wanting the teacher to notice. "Your new here.." He stated sitting up and closer to you, you could smell his cologne. "Yea I am, and if you don't mind. I'm trying to focus. " You sighed turning your attention back to the front bored.

Time had gone back surprisingly fast in Calculus, there were maybe 15 minutes left in class when the teacher decided to give everyone a mini test at the end of the lesson. You groaned and bit on your pen, feeling someone's eyes burning a hole into your head. You knew who the eyes belonged too and didn't want to give them the satisfaction of getting your attention. The whole class period Henry had been throwing small paper balls at your head. As the class came to an end, there was a larger ball thrown at your head, you gripped it and unravel it. "meet me at the end of class babe" was scribbled in terrible hand writing. You peered over at Henry and tore up the letter to his surprise. The bell rang and you quickly made your way to your next class.

#henry bowers #henry x reader #henery bowers x reader #It #it chapter 1 rp #it chapter 2 #pennywise x reader #losers club #bowers gang

2 notes · View notes

writings-of-dumpy · 4 years

Text

Once Upon a Dream V

A/N: So this part is even longer than the last.... 3.2k words... So there’s that. Also blood and violence in this chapter!

“Tea?” Dracula offered Rose when they entered his elaborate room. Rose looked around the room and noticed many intricate carvings in the marble and wood that made up the room. Dracula poured the hot liquid into an ornately decorated fine China teacup from a matching kettle.

Rose shook her head.

“Shame. It’s quite good. I perfected the recipe myself for over 100 years,” Dracula spoke and took a sip from the fine China cup.

“Why are we up here?” Rose asked defiantly.

“My dear, you have no idea the abilities you possess. We are here because I want to help you,” Dracula spoke with a voice smoother and sweeter than honey.

“I don’t need help,” Rose stated flatly.

“Oh, but you do! I can see it in your eyes…” Dracula began and stepped closer to her. He inhaled, “Smell it on your skin.”

“I think you’re smelling sweat—it’s a thing people with pulses do, but I’m sure you’ve long forgotten about that,” Rose said with a step backward.

Dracula smirked. “Tell me, Rose… Have you ever wanted to move an object and it’s resisted you?”

“No,” Rose lied. That had happened plenty of times when she was younger, but now she could move things or people upwards of three tons with her mind.

“Have you ever wanted to shake the earth with nothing more than a look?” Dracula inquired again.

“Why the hell would I want to do that?” Rose asked in response.

Dracula was silent for a moment, and then spoke again.

“Have you ever wanted someone to love you so desperately that they’d be willing to do anything for you?” he spoke smoothly.

Rose looked at him and couldn’t come up with a response quick enough for Dracula to be certain of her response.

“Ah…” Dracula smiled smugly and nodded. “So there is someone that you want… I can help you. I can help you make them want you.”

“That’s not fair to them. That’s manipulation… mind control,” Rose said and trailed off.

“I can teach you to unlock that power within you, my dear. And then you can have anyone you want,” Dracula persuaded.

“You know how to control people’s minds,” Rose accused.

“I know how to teach a powerful woman to harness her abilities,” Dracula said forcefully. “If you become one of my children, you could learn everything I’ve learned—thousands of years of knowledge at your disposal for anything!”

Rose eyed him carefully.

“There’s someone you want, I can see it… But does he feel the same..?” Dracula said and placed his cold hands on Rose’s. “I can help you make him see how desirable and wonderful you are and why he should love you, that’s all. Mind control makes it sound so dishonest… It’s merely an unveiling of the truth to someone who needs to see it.”

Rose was astounded that his thoughts matched the words he spoke.

~*~

Scott entered the ballroom first, followed by Derek, Peter, and then Stiles.

“Finally. It took you all long enough,” one of them said with a smirk.

“We’re not exactly local,” Scott retorted.

“We got here pretty fast, I’d say,” the second responded.

“Cut the shit, canon fodder. Where’s Dracula?” Peter asked aggressively.

“The kitsune or the psychic?” the third asked. “Because you’ll find the fox in several pieces and the boss has the psychic.”

Scott roared and attacked the third Lamia, but he moved too quickly for Scott to keep up. The Lamia laughed and shrugged. “Too slow, dog boy.”

By the end of the Lamia’s jest at Scott, an arrow had flown through the air and shot into the Lamia’s back clear through his heart. He fell to the floor and Stiles watched in horror as the body cracked and fell apart like a statue. Derek, Scott and Stiles all looked at Peter, who was holding a crossbow.

“What? I have Rosewood arrows, sue me,” Peter said.

Stiles stood back as the wolves and Lamia fought. He could barely see anything; it was a mess of claws, fangs, stakes and animalistic growls. Remembering the immediate danger posed to Rose and Kira, he quickly began to search for the two of them. The loud ruckus that the brawl in the ballroom made was lost on his ears the farther away he walked from it and soon he heard a muffled scream and isolated the sound to a small door below a stone staircase. The door shook with an impact from the other side and Stiles heard a voice that sounded like Kira scream from the other side.

“Kira?! Kira, hang on, I’m going to break down the door, stand back,” Stiles affirmed and backed up. He heard Kira’s sounds of protest, and just as he was about to charge, he spotted a key ring on the side of the door. Instead of breaking his shoulder, Stiles decided to unlock the door. Once the door opened, Stiles rushed over to Kira and released her from the ropes and tape that bound her arms and legs.

“Thank God, Stiles!” Kira breathed out and gripped his shoulders once she was freed. “Where’s Scott?!”

“He, Derek and Peter are in the ballroom. Scott thinks you’re dead—the Lamia told him you were in pieces. Are you alright, are you hurt?” Stiles asked and looked for any blood or obvious injury.

“I’m fine!” Kira said. “Rose is up in Dracula’s chambers. There’s a back corridor that he makes his lackeys use—it’ll give you some surprise advantage.”

Stiles nodded. “Okay, thanks.” Stiles explained and handed her one of his two stakes. “They can only be killed with this in their heart and they’re fast, be careful.”

Kira nodded and ran off toward the ballroom. Stiles gripped his remaining stake and headed towards the corridor. He found a spiral stone staircase and he climbed it with his pulse racing.

“There’s someone you want, I can see it… But does he feel the same..?” Stiles heard a cold and haunting voice say. “I can help you make him see how desirable and wonderful you are and why he should love you, that’s all. Mind control makes it sound so dishonest… It’s merely an unveiling of the truth to someone who needs to see it.”

Stiles managed to look through the hole in the door and saw who he could only assume is Dracula cornering Rose and holding her hands in his claws. Rose looked extremely uncomfortable and like she was fighting crippling fear. Seeing her so scared made his instincts spring up and he quickly opened the door and charged the monster. Before Stiles could strike, he stopped dead in his tracks when Dracula had clutched Rose and had his nails against her throat. The mere touch of them on her skin was enough to draw a drop of blood.

“One more step and not only will you die, but you will watch the one you came to save die, and only when I feel you have wallowed in your failure enough will I put you out of your misery,” Dracula hissed.

“Well, there’s no arguing with that…” Stiles said to himself.

Dracula emitted a chuckling sound so disturbingly dark that Stiles shuddered and he saw Rose visibly cringe. “You’re over your head, boy.”

“Stiles, get out of here!” Rose yelled and Dracula turned his head to look at her.

“Well, well, my pet… This can’t be the boy you’re so hopelessly in love with, can it?” Dracula released Rose and slinked over to Stiles.

Stiles’ heart jumped at the mention of Rose feeling so strongly for him, but his pulse soon ran cold as the blue eyes fell on him and peered into his own brown eyes.

Dracula scoffed, “He’s a mere human? Nothing special about him at all. And this is your beloved, child?”

Rose said nothing and Stiles saw her chest rise and fall rapidly as tears started to well up in her eyes. Stiles ached to hold her in his arms but knew the consequences of his movement towards her, so he stayed where he was and watched Rose tremble.

Dracula clicked his tongue and glided back over to her and reached his hand up to dry the tears that fell. “No need for that, pet.”

“Don’t fucking touch her!” Stiles screamed at Dracula, whose eyes locked onto Stiles and his shock quickly diminished into cold-hearted rage.

“You DARE speak to me that way?! After I invited you into my home and offer the treasure of your life the chance to be better than anything you could ever imagine?!” Dracula roared, but Stiles held his composure. “I admire your gall, but it unfortunately has no use to me.”

“Stiles!” Scott yelled as he entered the room with a bruised and bloodied face and body from battle.

Stiles looked back at Scott but his attention was pulled back to Rose by an anguished scream that sounded almost too horrific to come from her. His head whipped over to see Rose’s arm in Dracula’s mouth and a feral look in his eyes. Rose started to crumple, Scott charged the monster, and with a smirk Dracula dragged his teeth across her arm which sliced the veins he had nearly drained. As if he were never truly there, Dracula seemed to disappear into the night with a disturbing laugh. Stiles ran to Rose’s side and held her in his arms. He felt for a pulse on her neck and found a weak one.

“She needs a hospital NOW,” Stiles said and lifted her up.

“There’s one just down the road, I’ll tell them you’re coming,” Peter said and ran off like a shot in the dark. They all rushed to Stiles’ jeep and Scott sat in the driver’s side while Stiles and Derek sat in the back with Rose’s limp body. Kira occupied the passenger’s seat and the engine roared to life. Scott drove as fast as he could and within a few minutes they arrived at the hospital where Peter had acquired a few hospital staff who looked less than pleased and slightly afraid. Stiles held Rose’s face in his hands the whole ride over and he couldn’t help but let a few tears slip away as he told her to hang on for him and that he needed her to fight just a bit longer.

“Please, Rose, you can’t leave me. I need you, just hang on,” he pleaded. Stiles hadn’t felt such desperation drip out of his mouth since his mother died. “You’re my soulmate, I can’t lose you...”

Rose was carted off on the gurney and into critical care promptly upon the jeep’s arrival and the rest of the car’s occupants were questioned about what happened to her. Stiles was bordering on hysteric, so Scott chose to sit him down and let Derek and Peter take the lead.

“She fell and a vase broke in her hand. It was glass, it cut deep,” Derek told the triage nurse.

“Any family we can call? Emergency contact?” she asked.

“We’re the emergency contact. We’re her family,” Kira said sternly.

“Okay, just sit tight out here and we’ll let you know as soon as anything changes,” she said to them with an encouraging smile.

Stiles was nearly inconsolable on the inside, but he didn’t let it show. His mind was whirring mess of panicked thoughts and regrets. He replayed the scenario over and over in his head and he blamed himself for not being quick enough, for not calling out to her, for turning his head away from her…

“Stiles, it’s alright. She didn’t drink any blood, did she?” Scott’s voice sounded in a whisper that pulled Stiles from his spiraling.

Stiles shook his head, “Not that I saw, but I got there late.”

Scott nodded. “Well, we just have to wait 24 hours and it’ll be like it never happened.”

Stiles nodded. “I need to be back there to protect her.”

“Stiles there’s nothing you can do right now. There are two very specific things that have to happen for her to become a Lamia: she has to drink blood and she has to die. If we can prevent those things from happening for 24 hours, she’ll be fine,” Peter reasoned, and Stiles nodded. Peter placed a comforting hand on Stiles’ shoulder and Stiles raised a brow at the uncharacteristically kind gesture, but appreciated it nonetheless.

After about two hours of agonizing silence concerning Rose’s condition, one of the nurses came out and told the group, “We have stabilized her enough for transport to Beacon Hills hospital. The doctor thinks she’ll make a full recovery, but she lost a lot of blood and there are sutures on her arm. Only one of you can ride in the ambulance with her to the next hospital, who’s it going to be?”

Stiles immediately raised his hand and stepped forward. “Me, I’m going with her.”

“Okay, come with me,” she said and beckoned him.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Scott assured with a nod and Stiles smiled in response.

Stiles was taken into the back of the hospital where the ambulances parked and was helped onto one. Once inside, Stiles was told to sit on the small black bench next to the track that held the gurney in place for the ride. Shortly after the paramedic driver left, he returned with Rose in tow and with another paramedic. The gurney was slid into the ambulance and Stiles saw that Rose was connected to a half-full bag of red fluid that Stiles assumed was blood. Once the paramedics finished hooking her up to the monitors that were in the vehicle, they told Stiles to tell them if any of the monitors beeped and that she had been in and out of consciousness, so tell them if she awakens.

Stiles thanked them and they nodded and gave him encouraging smiles. Once the van started moving, Stiles heard the sirens faintly through the thick walls and doors of the truck, and he took Rose’s hand in his larger one. It was colder than he had expected and his heart sank. He looked at her face and noticed how pale she was, but the longer they were in the ambulance, the better her color was.

“Stiles…?” he heard Rose groan after a few minutes on the road.

“I’m here, yeah. It’s me, Rose…” he said and he smiled at her. He poked his head through the window to tell the paramedics, “she woke up.”

The passenger paramedic nodded and thanked him, then wrote something on her chart. Stiles turned his attention back to Rose as soon as he was sure he didn’t need to do anything more.

“Where am I? What’s happening?” she croaked out. Stiles saw her eyes take in her surroundings.

Stiles placed a hand on her forehead and stroked her hair to calm her increasingly panicked look. “You’re in an ambulance, you’re going to Beacon Hills hospital, okay? You’re safe here.”

Rose weakly gripped Stiles’ hand and nodded. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Stiles smiled and kissed her forehead. “Me too…”

“Is everyone else okay?” she asked.

“Yes, everyone is totally fine. Once we get to Beacon Hills I bet everyone will see you,” Stiles soothed her.

Rose trembled a bit and Stiles perked up. “Are you cold? What’s the matter?”

Rose nodded, “Cold.”

Stiles took his flannel off and draped it over her, then rubbed her arms. “That’s the best I can do for now, sweetheart.”

Rose smiled, “It’s good, thank you.”

Stiles didn’t know how long it took for them to get to the hospital, but he was relieved to see Scott’s mom when the ambulance door opened. When he stepped out after Rose was rolled away, he looked out and saw that the sun was starting to poke out behind the trees. Rose had been awake for a while, so once she was settled in a room, Melissa let Stiles, Scott and Kira in to see her. When Stiles walked into the room, he saw that she was still wearing his flannel, but now had a much more suitable blanket as well.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Scott asked her.

Rose nodded. “Better now that I have back the liter of blood I lost.”

Kira leaned over and hugged Rose, who hugged her back.

“We have to keep a close eye on you for 24 hours… that’s the window it will take for you to become a Lamia if Dracula gets to you..” Scott said.

Rose nodded. “I know. Good thing they’re holding me here for 24 hours—standard protocol when giving whole blood.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone you’re psychic?” Kira asked. Rose shrugged.

“I didn’t want certain people thinking I’m weird and then not wanting to talk to me,” Rose said softly and eyed Stiles.

“Dude, we literally met in a dream. You being psychic would make sense… it does make sense,” Stiles said and held Rose’s hand. Rose smiled and Stiles felt her squeeze.

“Alright, visiting hours are officially over: everyone out,” Melissa said and looked at her watch. “For an hour anyway.”

“Mom, there’s a supernatural problem and we kind of need to stay,” Scott explained.

Melissa eyed them all. “Stiles can stay in here and the rest of you can guard the door. I’ll make sure I check frequently, okay?”

Stiles let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god..”

“No, thank me,” Melissa corrected.

“We’ll see you in the morning, okay? If you need anything, Derek, Peter, and I are all right outside the door,” Scott told Rose. Rose smiled and thanked him.

After a pause, Stiles spoke up. “Do you need anything?”

Rose looked at their hands and smiled. “No, I’m perfectly fine.”

Stiles blushed when he felt her thumb caress his first finger’s knuckle.

“You should get some sleep—it’s been a very rough eight hours,” Stiles encouraged.

Rose frowned. “I don’t know if I can after…”

Stiles encased her hand with his free one. “Hey, I’m here. Nothing is going to hurt you, you’re safe with me, okay?” he told her in earnest and stared into her eyes.

Rose sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. “Will you stay with me..? Next to me, that is?”

Stiles’ heart started beating faster and he couldn’t form the words, so he simply nodded and climbed into bed next to her. They had been this close before while dancing, but this was a new feeling. He opened his arms for her and she fit perfectly with her head resting in the crook of his neck and her arm draped across his chest. Their legs tangled comfortably under the covers after Stiles had thrown his shoes off.

“Comfortable?” he asked her after a moment of stillness between them and tilted his head to look at her. He saw her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted, but her breath entered and exited her nose at a steady and even pace. Stiles smiled and gently placed a kiss to her forehead and held her close to him. He felt completely at peace here with her—a feeling reminiscent of how he felt in the dreams he had of her in a meadow. Stiles relaxed, closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face.

#stiles stilinski x oc

3 notes · View notes

exoticarmy127 · 5 years

Text

Waste It On Me (You, Jungkook, V) Part 2/3

🎵 “We don’t gotta go there, past lovers and warfare. It’s just you and me now.” - Waste it On Me by Steve Aoki feat. BTS

PART 1

Y/N winced as she dabbed some ointment onto her wound, blowing on it a little before placing the bandage on. She couldn’t believe how her night just turned out. From all the things that could happen…from all the people she could meet…

Just then, her phone rang, snapping her from her thoughts. She figured it must be Taehyung as she had taken a few more minutes longer than she should’ve.

“Hello?” She answered as she grabbed her jacket hanging on her bed’s headboard. “Tae?”

“Hey, I’m here. What’s taking you so long? I’m starved!”

“I’m coming down now.” She said as she locked her door and moved towards the elevators. “Sorry, I—uh had a bit of an accident.”

“Accident? Did you trip on even path again.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Ha-ha funny. No, I…bumped into someone.”

“Oh. Who?”

Y/N sighed as she pressed the button, thinking it’s definitely something she didn’t want to talk about over the phone (or at all, if she was being honest).

“I’ll tell you over dinner.” She responded just as the elevator doors opened. Y/N almost dropped her phone when the last person she expected (and wanted) to see was suddenly standing there on her floor—right in front of her.

“Are you following me?” Y/N blurted without thinking, but Jungkook—who initially had a surprised expression on his face—looked mildly offended.

“No. I live here.”

Now it was Y/N’s turn to be surprised. But she wasn’t going to fall for his lies just like that. “Funny.” She scoffed. “That’s really funny, Jungkook.”

Jungkook raised a paper to her face. “See for yourself.” As she grabbed it, she borrowed briefly through it and realized that it was a contract for the lease of the dorm apartment. To make things even more surprising, he’s staying at the recently vacant room on her floor...which also happened to be right across from her.

“Whatever.” Y/N handed him back the paper hastily with a grumble before stepping into the elevator.

“Hey.”

Y/N should’ve just ignored him. That would’ve been the reasonable thing to do. But somehow, she found herself holding onto the wrong button that kept the doors opened. She looked at him, gauging his expression and was confused to find only concern in his eyes.

“What?”

“Your arm.” He pointed. “Are you okay?”

She looked down at her bandage arm. “Oh. Uh, yeah. Already treated it.” Did I just hear right? Is Jungkook asking if I’m okay?

“You fell pretty hard. Do I need to take you to a hospital? Or the campus clinic, at least?”

Y/N was even more surprised by the offer, unsure why he would be concerned for her well-being when not so long ago, he made it pretty clear that he wanted nothing to do with her.

Willing herself not to be fazed by his concern, she stood straighter and shook her head. “It’s fine. It’s just a scratch, and I can take care of myself.”

“Are you sure— “

“Yeah. Pretty sure. So, you can go on along. Wouldn’t want you wasting your time on someone who’s not worth it, right?”

She felt a rush at her words, not meaning to blurt out the memory she had tried so hard to forget. By the way Jungkook’s expression turned from concerned to dark—and if she read correctly, a little upset—he clearly picked up on the reference too. He looked like he was about to say something and she wasn’t sure if she could stay there any longer in the presence of the one boy who impetuously broke her heart into a million, tiny pieces. With that, she let her finger move over to the close button, putting an end to their conversation.

“Bye, Jungkook.” She said just as the elevator doors closed.

~~~

PRESENT

Y/N was able to calm Jen down after an hour of talking and right now, they had retreated to the back room where she had invited her to snack on some cookies she baked earlier that day. It would take at least an hour or so until the bookshop owner returned and Y/N decided to wait as she was clearly instructed not close up on her own. Not because she couldn’t handle it on her own, of course, but because the owner didn’t want to impose on her. After all, she was just watching over the shop for the day as a favor.

“I wanted to ask, Y/N.” Jen started as she munched on a cookie. “What happened to that guy who broke your heart?”

Y/N simply sighed, a small smile on her lips. “You mean after high school?” Jen nodded. “Never really saw him for a couple of years. But we met in college again.”

“Did you give him a piece of your mind?”

Y/N chuckled. “He actually became my neighbor. Lived right next door.”

“What?! That’s crazy?! How did you even manage to face that douche every day?”

Y/N paused at that, thinking how she had asked herself the same thing back then. How did she manage to face the man who broke her heart all those years ago and not want to break down in tears or hurl the nearest table lamp at him?

The answer?

“I don’t know... but one thing’s for sure, then. He was different when I met him again.”

“Different how? Like...’a changed man’?” Jen quoted with a snicker.

Y/N shrugged. “Just different.”

~~~

FLASHBACK

Y/N didn’t tell Taehyung about meeting Jungkook again. She didn’t even mention that the guy who humiliated her and trashed her feelings back then was currently living in the same building as hers—on the same floor, right across from her flat. The reason? She knew he would throw a fit and maybe give Jungkook a piece of his fist if given the chance. She also knew he would’ve offered to have her live in his apartment where she sometimes stayed when they worked on school projects together and when they had their Friday movie night rituals. But most of all, Y/N didn’t want him freaking out or worrying. She can handle this. It’s not like Jungkook was her ex. She barely made it to the friends stage; not to mention her confession was a total disaster.

I’ve moved on, she told (convinced) herself.

Jungkook as a neighbor was safe to say, uneventful as he rarely showed his face and they barely crossed paths despite living right across from each other. She figured they had very different schedules as she would often catch Jungkook leaving on his bike in the afternoon just as she’s returning to the building. Also, she never bumped into him in the mornings. She thought it was for the best. The less she saw of him, the better.

A month passed and Y/N was starting to feel comfortable with the idea of Jungkook living next door, considering she never really saw the guy and it’s almost as if he didn’t exist.

But of course, fate had different plans when on a nice, homework-less Friday night, Y/N strolled through their library’s door with a new mystery tucked in her arm, only to be welcomed by an unexpected sight.

The library was packed for some reason on a Friday night, with groups of students filling most of the tables. But that wasn’t the reason why Y/N suddenly felt her heart drum in her chest. For right there, sitting on one of the tables was Jungkook with his headphones on while hunched over the desk, writing something on a notebook.

The sight shouldn’t have affected her, really. Except the only seat available then was right across where he was sitting. Y/N had second thoughts about leaving but she decided against it, thinking how she already came all this way.

I’m a strong woman, Y/N pepped talk herself as she stood straighter and marched towards his desk. I can do this! Cute boys don’t scare me.

Once she was right in front of him, she cleared her throat, intending to get his attention and ask if the seat was taken—even though it looks like he was alone. Y/N didn’t want to be rude if he wanted some space.

However, Jungkook didn’t look up at her first attempt… and the second and that’s when she realized he had his headphones on and would probably only notice her if she danced like a chicken or—as any normal person would—tapped him. The former option seemed unlikely and so she reluctantly reached out and tapped his shoulder twice, causing the boy to look up with a jolt, wide-eyed.

Cute boys don’t scare me... she thought defiantly just as Jungkook removed his headphones, setting his doe-eyes on hers.

But this one might, a small voice said in her head and she swallowed.

“Y/N.” He said and there was genuine surprise in his tone. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

Y/N was quick to snap from her trance and mustered a small smile. “It’s fine. Sorry to bother you, but I was just wondering if this seat’s taken?” She pointed at the chair across from him. “Sorry, I—the other tables are full.”

Jungkook looked around then, as if he didn’t realize he was in the library, before setting his gaze back to her. “Oh, no. Go ahead.”

Y/N blinked, unsure if she heard him right. Jungkook just smiled and offered the seat willingly, she thought as she sat; remembering how back then, he barely acknowledged her, and when he actually did, it was usually to ask her to shut up. Y/N was adamant not to make the same mistake again, however, and forced herself not to make small talk or even make the slightest of noises that could annoy him.

“What you got there?” He suddenly asked and Y/N tensed up.

Now he’s attempting small talk?

“Um,” Y/N paused for a while, still shocked. “It’s a book.”

“I know it’s a book.” He rolled his eyes. “I meant what are you reading?”

“Oh, uh. A mystery.”

“Cool.”

“I didn’t know you drew.” Y/N said, surprised to have said her thoughts out loud when she observed that the notepad he was busy with was actually a sketchpad and she could catch a glimpse of a really nice sketch of a human hand in front of him.

Jungkook seemed to become shy at the mention of it. “Not really. I just dabble when I have time. “

“What are you talking about?” She pointed at the pad. “That looks pretty amazing to me.”

He smiled. “Thanks.”

“Are you an art major, then?”

A nod. “Graphic design.”

“‘I just dabble.’” She snorted as she quoted his words a while ago. Jungkook rubbed his nape, a slight blush coloring his cheeks.

“Okay, maybe I dabble a lot more often than usual.”

She laughed. He laughed. And it was so easy forgetting like there was nothing wrong between them. But as soon as Y/N realized that, she wiped off the smile on her face and pretended to start reading, covering half her face with the book.

You’re supposed to be mad at him, damn it!

After that night, Y/N began seeing Jungkook more and more at the library. Sometimes, it would still be packed and Y/N would have no choice but to ask to share again. Jungkook would happily oblige and they would settle into—as she so hated to admit—a comfortable silence; reading or with Jungkook, drawing. Some nights, Y/N would get their first and almost always, Jungkook would arrive and ask to share her table, despite having several tables vacant. Y/N had wanted to say no. She really did, but she wasn’t sure why she couldn’t seem to find it in her to say “No, sorry. The next table’s vacant, though” every single time.

Worst of all, the boy kept making small talk and Y/N found herself falling for the trap every time, cracking at his jokes and even letting him in on what happened that day. It was almost too easy: talking with him, laughing with him… And if Y/N didn’t hate him so much, she would’ve thought of him as a friend.

A friend...she wondered as she stared at him drawing, thinking whether or not it’s a good or bad idea to be friends with him.

~~~

One night, Y/N planned to work on their charity fair tomorrow. She and Taehyung had teamed up with a couple of their friends: Kim Seokjin, a senior and Y/N’s culinary student mentor and Kim Namjoon, also a senior and Taehyung’s close friend in his business classes, to put up a booth and sell some baked delicacies for their joint project. After their meeting, she found herself lugging boxes of ingredients to her dorm for her cupcakes. She was carrying a couple up to her room when she suddenly felt the box’s weight lighten and fingers grazing her hands that sent a shock of electricity to course through her veins.

When she craned her neck to look at the person who helped her, she can’t say she’s surprised to see Jungkook there.

“Need help?” He said and gave her a small smile that almost seemed shy.

Y/N knew she should’ve declined, not wanting to owe the guy anything afterwards. But she was desperate to get those boxes upstairs and get started on her baking for the fair tomorrow to even let her pride get the best of her.

“Thank you.” She sighed in relief as she let him take the boxes. “Could you take them to my door? I have a few more in the truck— “

“Don’t worry about it, I got it.” Jungkook said before moving towards the elevators. Y/N stopped at that, unsure how to take his generosity.

After the boxes were all settled in her room, she turned towards Jungkook who just set the final box on her doorstep.

“That’s all of it.” He said as he stood straighter before giving an awkward wave and turning away to leave.

“Jungkook,” she called, and he looked over his shoulder questioningly. “Thank you.”

For the first time in a very long while, she saw him smile. And it wasn’t the teasing smile he used on her back in high school nor was it the friendly smile he showed her during their nights in the library. No. There was something different about it. It wasn’t even shy or awkward, but one that looked genuine.

“You’re welcome.”

And that only made Y/N hate him even more. Because that smile will forever be etched in her brain, considering the way her heart skipped a bit by the mere sight of it.

That night, Y/N stayed up till half past 11 PM baking and making sure everything was set for the charity fair tomorrow. Seokjin and Namjoon were tasked for the cookies and scones while Y/N and Taehyung got cupcake duty. Taehyung had some family plans he couldn’t get out of tonight but promised to come in bright and early tomorrow to help her with the frosting. Considering she had a bit of time and the desire to sleep hasn’t set in yet, Y/N decided to start frosting the last batch she made and suddenly thought of Jungkook and how he had helped her out earlier that day. Her hands seemed to have a mind of its own when she’s all of a sudden setting aside a couple of already-frosted cupcakes and placing them into a small box. She looked at the time and saw that it’s almost midnight, and debated whether or not she should go ahead and give it to him or wait till morning.

He’s probably asleep, she thought. But another side of her also said that most college students are night owls anyways, and there’s a huge chance that Jungkook would still be awake. After a few minutes of convincing herself to go for it or back out, Y/N finally decided to just do it.

#YOLO, right?

With the cupcake box in her hands, Y/N opened her door and heard faint music playing that seemed to be coming off Jungkook’s room.

Great, he’s awake… she thought, unsure if that was a good sign or not. It’s just a cupcake, Y/N. You’re just here to thank him for helping you out this afternoon.

After a few minutes of idling, Y/N finally stepped forward and knocked on his door. The music stopped all of a sudden and she heard footsteps coming towards her...

She wasn’t exactly prepared for Jungkook returning into her life—even more so a sweaty and obviously working-out Jungkook in a muscle tee and board shorts to face her on a fine Friday night.

Emphasis on fine, she thought as she observed his biceps.

“Y/N.” He said, sounding genuinely surprised as he pushed back his wet fringe. Y/N swallowed, feeling the heat creep up her cheeks. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

Pause.

“Um. Can I help you?” he asked and his words were enough to break her from her trance.

“Oh. Sorry. I know it’s late but um, I just...I wanted to give you these.” She handed him the box. “Not sure if you’ve noticed but the boxes a while ago were ingredients for the fair tomorrow and I was making a few batches of cupcakes tonight and figured to give you some.”

“For me?” Jungkook smiled widely then as he looked down at the box and Y/N whimpered internally, wishing he would stop smiling like that.

“Yeah I mean, as a thank you for helping me a while ago.” She looked over his shoulder and caught sight of a punching bag. She returned to his sweaty state and figured he must be working out. “Sorry. I think it might have just ruined your diet.”

Jungkook laughed a little at that and Y/N would be lying if she didn’t think it was cute. “Uh yeah, but I love cupcakes.” He opened the box to peek inside and his eyes lit up. “Are these blueberry cupcakes?” She nodded. “They’re my favorite!”

“Really?” She asked as Jungkook took one big bite.

“Oh wow.” He said, eyes widening that Y/N was reminded of a little boy who just saw his presents on Christmas Day. “These are really good!”

Y/N felt pride burning in her chest. She loved it whenever someone complimented her baking.

“Thanks. I’m glad you like it.”

Jungkook placed the cupcake back inside the box and smiled at her.

Damn it! Stop smiling!

“Thank you. You just made my day with these.”

Y/N felt her heart race at his words and not trusting her speech to reply, she simply nodded and began to turn away. But before she opened her door, he called, “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Jungkook looked like he was about to say something but decided against it in the end. “Thank you, again. And good luck with the bake fair. I hope I can drop by and get some more tomorrow?” He smiled, but it looked almost flirty...

“You don’t have to. I can leave some for you, if you want.” She said and the moment the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to take them back.

Did I just offer him more cupcakes? I might as well have sold my soul to the devil!

But it was too late. Jungkook had caught on pretty quickly and his eyes twinkled.

“Sweet.” He simply said with a lazy smile on his lips before holding up the cupcakes again. “Thanks for this. Sleep well, yeah?”

“You too.”

“I know I will. Your cupcakes will make sure of that.” He winked and then turned to close his door.

Y/N release the breath she was unconsciously holding, her heart racing a few miles per hour as she thought of what she had just done.

I’m screwed! I’m screwed! I’m screwed! she repeated in her head like a mantra, worrying perhaps she hasn’t moved on completely, after all.

~~~

“I can’t believe we sold out everything!” Namjoon grinned as he counted the money inside their safe while Taehyung, Jin and Y/N busy themselves with clearing up their stall. It was a good thing there were no leftovers, making it easier to clean up.

“That just goes to show you have no faith in my delicious cookies and Y/N’s cupcakes.” Jin snickered as he gave Y/N a fist bump.

“No, we have complete faith in you guys.” Namjoon pointed out. “I just didn’t think people would actually buy them without even tasting them first.”

“Must be my good looks.” Taehyung smirked, and Y/N rolled her eyes. If she was being honest, the years had been kind with Taehyung and no longer was he the scrawny, glasses-wearing kid in high school, now replaced by broader shoulders and eyes that definitely had the female population of their campus melt with his gorgeous stares. Y/N once overheard some of the girls talking that he was the epitome of beauty and brains.

“No. I think it was mine.” Namjoon stuck out his tongue at him.

“No, you’re both wrong.” Jin said as he hung his arm over Y/N’s shoulders. “It was definitely mine. Didn’t you see me entertaining my future restaurant clients like a pro?”

Jin’s statement was met by snorts and laughter but none of them tried to defy him since first, Jin was a brilliant chef and second, he’s voted as the most eligible bachelor on campus.

“Oh hey, we have a couple of blueberries here.” Taehyung suddenly said as he opened a pink box tucked underneath the table. The moment she heard his words, Y/N snapped up and immediately took the box—one that held the cupcakes she had set aside for someone...

“Oh, those are mine. I uh—baked some extra.”

“Oh. Cool. Can I have one, then?” Taehyung began to reach out for the box but jumped when Y/N suddenly pulled it out of her reach.

“No!” She half-yelled, earning weird looks from her friends. “I mean...I wanted to eat two.”

“Oh come on, Y/N.” Taehyung whined as he began to reach for it again. “Gimme!!”

“Tae, no—” she shrieked out in laughter when Taehyung’s hands found her waist, poking her tickle spot. “Tae! Stop!”

“Make me.” Taehyung said as he wrapped his arms around her waist and twirled her around, earning a squeal from his best friend. Not wanting to fall off, Y/N wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, laughing as he continued to spin her around.

“Oh hey, little man. You’re late!”

Y/N and Taehyung suddenly stopped twirling to face their guest, and the couple’s smiles fell so fast it was almost comical—but for fairly different reasons.

“Oh yeah guys, this is my cousin Jungkook.” Jin said as he placed an arm around the younger, pulling him closer to his side. “He just moved in a few weeks ago.”

“It’s been a month or so, Jin.” Jungkook muttered before turning toward everyone and earning a punch from Jin who mumbled something about respecting him as his “hyung”. “Hello. It’s nice to meet you.”

Y/N felt Taehyung stiffen beside her and she hoped Jungkook wouldn’t give her any special intro—

“Y/N.” Jungkook settled his gaze on hers with a small smile on his lips.

Uh-oh. “Hi.” She replied and she could practically feel Taehyung’s judging gaze beside her.

“You two know each other?” Jin asked and while Y/N remained silent for the sake of keeping Taehyung calm, Jungkook nodded.

“She’s my flat neighbor.”

“Flat neighbor?” Taehyung echoed, his tone so unbelieving that it caught everyone’s attention.

“Oh yeah. You’re Taehyung, right?”

Taehyung faced Jungkook then, looking almost insulted.

“Yeah, he’s Tae. I told you about Namjoon’s friend, right?” Jin said and Jungkook nodded before reaching out his hand to shake. Taehyung, unfortunately, only looked down at it like he just grew an extra finger, not bothering to take it.

Jungkook seemed to get the message and retreated his hand a little awkwardly; and Y/N wanted the ground to swallow her whole then.

“So uh, I guess I’m too late, huh? I was hoping to get more of Y/N’s cupcakes.” Jungkook told Jin and glanced briefly at Y/N.

“Oh, really?” Jin said just as Taehyung mumbled under his breath, “More?”

“Yeah, I had some before. They were really good.”

“Before?” Taehyung hissed under his breath at Y/N once more. He suddenly looked down at his hand—right at the box holding two cupcakes. It was then that everything fell into place and made sense.

“Don’t worry,” Taehyung said, his voice low and dark as he handed the box to Jungkook. “Y/N saved some for you.”

Jungkook beamed at that and Y/N really wished she could disappear then. Taehyung was practically fuming beside her while here was Jungkook, oblivious to it all.

Why is that? She had no idea.

Jungkook took the box and casted Y/N a small smile. “You didn’t have to. But, thank you.”

Y/N forced a smile. “Don’t mention it.”

“Hey I’m just gonna go. I’ll be back in a bit alright?” Taehyung turned and left without waiting for anyone’s reply and Y/N knew she had a lot of explaining to do.

“I’m gonna go too. We’ll be back.” Y/N said but just before she left, Jungkook caught up to her.

“Hey, Y/N. “

“Yeah?” Y/N half turned, itching to catch up to Taehyung.

“I…” Jungkook bit her lip, looking like he was trying to build up the courage to say something.

“What is it?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to hangout sometime? Say this Friday night?”

Y/N gasped inwardly. If she didn’t know any better, it sounded like Jungkook was asking her out on a date.

“There’s a band playing at the bar in town.” He added. “And I... well, my friend’s in it and I wanted to ask if you’d want to come and watch?”

Y/N stared at him, unsure what to say.

“That is if you’re not busy, of course. I totally understand if you can’t— “

“Sure.” Y/N blurted and once the words were out of her lips, she couldn’t quite believe she just said that. But looking at Jungkook’s nervous smile, tripping on his words and seeming all shy to ask her out, she couldn’t find herself to say no.

Even if Jungkook was a douche and broke her heart in high school. No biggy.

Jungkook looked relieved at her answer. “Okay. Cool. Uh, Friday at six? I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

Y/N only nodded while Jungkook bid his goodbye and turned to leave. Once he turned the corner, Y/N then turned to find Taehyung—only to be faced by a very pissed off best friend. The silence was so heavy it was deafening and if stares could kill, Y/N would have long been dead by now with how Taehyung was looking at her.

“Tae, I can explain.”

Taehyung shook his head as he stepped towards her. “Explain? You don’t need to. I saw all I needed to see.”

He moved to walk past her but Y/N held on to his wrist. “Tae, please— “

“From all people, Y/N.” Taehyung scoffed as he half-turned to face her. “Why him? Why Jungkook?”

“Tae, there’s nothing going on! He’s literally just my neighbor.”

“Then what was that about?!”

“What?!”

“Oh don’t give me that, Y/N. You know pretty damn well what.”

“It’s nothing, Tae.”

“It didn’t look like nothing to me!”

“Tae, I swear. It’s nothing to be worried about!” She argued. “He’s just my neighbor.”

“Yes, a neighbor you just agreed to go on a date with.” He snapped, and Y/N swallowed. Taehyung rarely raised his voice at her and it was scary seeing him this way. “A neighbor you happened to be in love with and who broke your heart all those years ago!” He added and Y/N couldn’t find the strength to correct him. Not when the words rang painfully true…

“Tae… it’s really— “

“Or did you actually forget?” He spat and Y/N felt tears pricking her eyes then, thinking that she looked pretty pathetic with how Taehyung was wording it out.

“Did you actually forget, Y/N? What he did to you? Because back there, that son of a—” he growled. “He just acted like he didn’t know me—know us! And I don’t know what game he’s playing, Y/N, but that’s messed up! And I’m not going to watch you fall for his trap again.”

“Maybe he’s changed!” Y/N defended but she knew she was being unreasonable. Hearing herself, she wanted to scold herself the way Taehyung was doing at the moment.

Taehyung, in turn, regarded her with a confused and annoyed look. “Changed? Y/N, do you even hear yourself right now? That guy humiliated you and treated your feelings like trash in high school. And you’re saying, he’s ‘changed’?” He finger-quoted. “No. He can’t change after just two or three years. He can’t just forget and move on from that! Did he even apologize for what he did to you when you saw him again?” Y/N remained silent, making him scoff. “Of course. Why am I not surprised? That’s just like him. That’s just freakin’ like him!”

“Tae, please. Just hear me out— “

“I don’t want to hear it if you’re just going to defend him.” Taehyung said, and his voice had gone eerily calm. “I can’t hear that, Y/N. I won’t. So, please. Just tell me you won’t go on that date with him.”

Y/N opened her mouth to speak but no words seemed to come out and right then, Taehyung for her answer. His eyes turned dark, sadness and anger reflected upon his eyes.

“You know what? Fine. If you want to be blind and stupid... be my guest! Just a reminder, he’s the one who broke your heart. And was he there to pick up the pieces? No... I was! I was there, Y/N. And I’m still here.” He emphasized, eyes shaking with unshed tears. “I saw what he did to you and if I have one advice to give, it’ll be the same one I gave you all those years ago.”

Without another word, Taehyung left, leaving Y/N in tears and a heavy heart. As she stood there alone on the sidewalk, Taehyung’s words from before reverberated in her head, reminding her over and over again...

I don’t like that you like him, Y/N. He’s trouble.

~~~

PRESENT

“What do you mean he didn’t remember you? He obviously did!” Jen shouted and Y/N shushed her when a customer eyed them from the aisle.

“That’s what I thought back then, too.”

“So what did you do?”

“What anyone would do... I asked someone who might know.”

~~~

FLASHBACK

“Hey Jin, can I ask you something?”

It was early in the morning and Jin was currently marinating a huge chunk of beef in their kitchen lab at school while Y/N helped him prepare a special broth he had originally made and hoping to make an official recipe in a cook book he’s currently writing.

“Sure. What about?”

“Nothing important. Just your cousin… Jungkook.”

Jin paused from massaging the meat to give her a knowing look. “What about my cousin?”

“I don’t like him.” She said almost defensively.

“I never said you did.” Jin wiggled his eyebrows insinuatingly.

“Yeah, but your face tells me you think I— “

“Okay. What do you need to know, my dear mentee? How he likes his eggs in the morning? I’m pretty sure he likes them scrambled— “

“Jin.” She cut him off with a groan. “I’m being serious here.”

“Eggs are very serious matters, Y/N. I taught you that.”

“I just…” she sighed. “I know him. Jungkook, I mean.”

“Yes. I’m aware. I introduced you guys the other day at the fair.”

“No... I mean, I knew him before that.”

“Ah yeah, he told me you lived next door to each other.”

“No.” She huffed, thinking how this was harder than she thought. “I mean, I know him from way back… like in high school. We used to be schoolmates.”

Jin’s smile faltered from his lips, then. “Oh.”

“Oh?” She tilted her head, unsure why Jin suddenly looked a little sad. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re asking me...why he can’t remember you.” Jin stated rather than asked, confusing her even more. “Is that why Taehyung looked so affronted the other day?”

Y/N wanted tell him that was partly the reason, not wanting to get into the messy bits of their relationship before.

“Kind of.”

Jin nodded in understanding. “Well, first of all, I’m not sure if I should be the one telling you this when you can ask him about it yourself. But since we’re here and I don’t think there’s any harm in telling… you should know that he’s not doing it on purpose.”

“What do you mean?”

“My cousin is suffering from memory loss.”

“Memory loss? You mean he has amnesia?” Jin nodded. “How—?”

“Terrible bike accident a couple of years ago. He uh—crashed, pretty hard. It’s a miracle he’s alive now, if I’m being honest. He fought hard through the surgery and was in coma for about a year or so. Nobody ever thought he’d even wake up.”

Y/N covered her lips to suppress her gasp. No wonder Jungkook disappeared back then. He wasn’t in jail or moved to a new place…

He was in a coma.

“So yeah, that accident caused a severe damage in his brain—specifically the part that processes memories. He hardly remembers events that happened prior to his accident and is still struggling remembering faces and names. But he’s gotten through it with a bit of help from his family. He remembers me now,” he chuckled but there was no amusement in it. “All I’m saying is that if you guys were close then, don’t be mad that he can’t remember. It’s not his fault. And hey, maybe the more time you guys spend together, he’ll remember bits and pieces of your past. That’s how it worked for me; showed him pictures and stuff. Really helped.”

After their conversation, Y/N worked silently throughout the day, taking all the information in. A lot of things made sense now: like how Jungkook acted all nice around her now and how he never did once bring up their past.

Why he never apologized…

But right then, Y/N was torn between staying away and accepting his fate and move on, because Jin was right about Jungkook not being at fault for not remembering and they could maybe start anew. If she stayed away though, Jungkook would surely ask why she was avoiding him and how on earth will she tell him about their past?

How could she be mad at him for something he can’t even remember?

Y/N felt the beginnings of a headache from thinking too hard. At the end of the day, however, as she was walking down the street towards her apartment building, she looked at the pedestrian and a thought came to her like a bulb lighting in her head. She remembered one tiny detail she had almost missed to consider...

If Jungkook truly lost his memories like Jin had said, then how on earth did he know her name the first night they met when he almost ran into her with his bike?

To be continued.

Come scream at me for more... :P

- Kaye Allen

#BTS scenarios #Bangtan scenarios #BTS #Jungkook scenarios #Taehyung scenarios #BTS Jungkook #BTS Taehyung #kpop fanfiction #kpop #beyond the scene #bangtan sonyeondan #Bangtan fanfiction #BTS fanfic #Taehyung fanfic #BTS V #Jeon Jungkook #Kim Taehyung #LSS #Love song series

34 notes · View notes

goprandall · 6 years

Text

DC MASTERPOST >3

It’s no secret the DC universe is something of a DCpointment. There’s no cohesion in sotrylines, films are released at odd and illogical times and I decided to rewatch and give proper reviews.

MAN OF STEEL 2013 7/10

This film is something of an outlier on the DCEU, because it is not terrible.

The strengths of this film are defiantly the first act, I feel it was a clear and concise way to create backstory without the stereotypes of following him through childhood into adulthood, they did a great job of creating krypton and establishing an antagonist with a clear motive. I liked the jump straight into adult with flashbacks when confronted with items from his past, it allowed us to understand his past without saturating his journey all at once. Arguably the first arc of this film is completed here with Clark/kal discovering who he is and why he is here. The second arc of General Zod trying to bring back his people is still very well done, providing us more relevant backstory and shows logical actions from both sides of the fight nearing the end of the film. The biggest weakness of the film in my opinion is that it is 20 minutes too long. When superman destroys Zods ship killing the artificial children of krypton, I feel this arc was complete, although the after fight solely fought between SM and Zod does show us the struggle superman goes through becoming the last kryptonite in exaistance, this does not outweigh the pointless mass destruction this causes, on top of a already destroyed city. In my cut this would be disregarded.

Final thoughts of the film; my favourite part was the shot of ‘ALERT’ that slowly turns to ‘Toner empty’, a good transition and piece of direction. I’m giving this film 7/10, in my classification would make it a good Netflix film, one I’d be happy to watch but not pay money to solely see. It was a hard choice to not make it a 6 however, I rank wonder women as a 7, and this is more than equally as good, the only things preventing me from giving it a higher rank is it’s rewatchability. Personally I rarely would due to its lack of joy and humour, and overall darkness, not just in plot but also in cinematography and colour grading.

BATMAN V SUPERMAN 2016 6/10

Batman v superman had all the the ingredients to be the summer blockbuster, but as predicted it followed every DC film and tanked.

Their are some aspects of this film that are genuinely good, giving it a 6, one of those things is the first act of the film where we are introduced to Batman, although I didn’t personally feel the need for another origin story, the way this scene is directed especially with the earl sequence is fantastic, adding depth and differing from older versions of the same story. The other good thing about this film is the Batman fight scene, it is so well articulated and choreographed, i struggle to see how it fits within the wider film which is strangely badly directed, edited and in-cohesive.

Continuing from this idea, I feel the dream sequences are one of the leading problems for the in-cohesion of the film, the issue with these sequences is, if they are not well done it stops the audience trusting more daring scenes, ultimately taking you out of the story. Next, I feel another reason this doesn’t live up to its hype is, again, DCs continuous frenzy of oversaturating it’s film with characters. Here I argue Wonder women is not needed in the end fight, the fight could just have easily gone on sitbout her, or, if they had released wonder women before this film so we felt more engrossed in the character it wouldn’t been fine. However her and all the other justice league promo clips, should not have been in the film in the context they were as they’re a corporate shoehorn, promoting further projects. The other character I feel is unneeded is ‘Doomsday’, he’s quickly thrown in at the end of the film, and honesty an antigunist shown to us at the end of the film will never give the depth and fear of a hero fight, as a villain shown throughout the movie.

To me, Batman V Superman is a movie. Not a film, crafted and worked on to create a narrative for the audience, but a summer movie to get the kids out the house. The idea of having two meta humans as important as Batman and superman battling each other should boggle the mind, as the first avengers did for me or civil war for a closer comparison. But the difference with the MCU spectaculars is, they earned their right to blow people’s minds, DC is playing catch up and trying to get praise and awe without the hard work.

SUICIDE SQUAD 2016 3/10

Wow. This review has been hard to create and will most likely feature ideas from other reviews via podcasts and YouTube due to the fact this movie boggled my head in the sheer awfullness that ensued.

As always, I begin with the strengths of the film. In this instance it’s slight. I loved the aesthetics of the branding for the film, the colours, the neon animations, I loved it all. The mini descriptions in the film were funny and added to the VeRy little personalities of the characters. It is important to point out this clearly wasn’t present in the first edits of the film, but due to good feedback of later trailers that were released they were added, which is why this element of humour is the only of its kind that lands in the film.

Next I normally look into the storyline and the character arcs of the film, arguably my second favourite aspect to look for in a film. In suicide squad there is none, and there aren’t any. That sounds harsh, but the reality is there is no cohesive storyline, it follows no one character individually and the film darts back and fourth between every character, no matter the timeframe. Dean Dobbs (from adventures with dean and Bertie’s podcast) best describes this as ‘like playing a video game where someone is skipping every cutscene’ and this is absolutly true, especially when looking at the relationship of the joker and Harley Quinn. This film is so badly edited, As jack Howard describes, this film contains no scenes, it is obvious the whole film was rehashed and re-edited after the release of BVS (which crashed at the box office) and the final trailer was released, which was very different from the first few as it showed humour and action, and it is evident they cut out almost everything apart from these things. I would best describe it as many GoPrandall videos I have scrapped as I tend to forget to film opening sequencers and filler clips to show the progression of the story told apart from the action, and this is exactly how I felt about the editing of this film, they did the best with what they got but it wasn’t enough.

Although there was a lack of character arcs, this film had an ABUNDANT amount of characters to fill its shoes. This film crams as many famous faces in as many characters

As it can, because for some reason DC refuses to create stand alone films due to the catch up to the MCU that’s going on. We’ll start with the joker, or more exactly the 10 minuets of joker we got. Many scenes with the joker were so heavily edited, and deleted, it is hard to judge Jared Letos performance, because he didn’t have chance to give one. But, as a side note the hand on the mouth laugh is one of the WORST cinema moments I’ve experienced only closely beaten by ‘were bad guys it’s what we do’. Yuck. But we’ll finally look at the ‘suicide squad’, although looking at them it’s hard to identify why they are in this squad. We’ll start with reason no one on the team seems to have a reason to be there, aprt from deadshot, who had his daughters arc to think about. All the others just seem to around and don’t want to die and get out of prison. VERY good motives DC, you’ve outdone yourself this time. Next we can look at the abilities of this so called ‘meta human’ squad and how under utilised they really are, which could show why this film failed so badly. Firstly deadshot- ‘never misses a bullet- amazing at trick shots.’ Who in the film performs close quarter headshots, the same as the Seal team next to him, and in the film performs 1 trick shot. 1. That was in establishing scene right at the beginning, but he isn’t the only victim, we can look at Boomerang, my favourite character by far, with one the coolest abilities, who throws a total of:5 boomerangs and catches: 2. Let’s be honest Harely is there as the jokers Love Interest and to keep him in the film. We can also look at el deablo, the man that can shoot fire but refuses until he’s bullied for a whole minute. The worlds worst archaeologist who starts the entire battle, after BREAKING AN ANTIQUE immediatly after finding it (bravo) who if wasn’t attempted to be weaponised, would’ve skipped this whole mess. Slipknot, a man who could climb any wall or anything, who immediatly dies after climbing a wall, but don’t worry because they don’t even want you to worry about this due to the fact they don’t even intro him before he magically appears on the squad, hoping the audience will react ‘oh he’s going to be important!!! What a mystery man!!’. This is almost as bad as Katana, who adds nothing the story apart from a short intro and when she cries to her dead husband, at which point I began to cut my toenails, something I gave more of a shit about.

But, it is obvious I’m a teenage marvel fanboy just shitting on DC,and I hate when people complain without offering another viewpoint, therefore, to fix this, I would dedicate this film to the viewpoint of deadshot, giving him the character arc of changing with the goal of seeing his daughter- eliminate the extra characters- slipknot/katana and either dedicate more time to the joker and harley sub plot or eliminate entirely, NOT BOTH. With this, better editing around these eliminated plot points could make a more coherent story with more empathetic story arcs. I have a full idea for a plot but this is too long as it is.

WONDER WOMEN 2017 7/10

Wonder women is a refreshing instalment into the DCEU, showing they seem to e learning, but are still falling behind on some of the most basic hurdles.

Firstly, as always we’ll start off with the strengths of his film, firstly it is vividly important to recognise that this is the first major Superhero film to be directed, and sustain a heavy female cast. It does so fantastically and leaves me more excited for the next instalment now knowing female directors and stars now have evidence for an accomplished superhero movie, which arguably has outdone the past 2 major films. With this we see a brilliantly refreshing opening act with a subtle and bright, vibrant origin story.

However, this film slowly returns to madness throughout the film when major plot holes appear, and the film making quality slowly deteriorates. Firstly, the iggest plot hole that has been so easily overlooked is the WW1 aspect. Given a World War Two film, having the Germans be the sole enemy is obvious and logical, however WW1 is not as simple as this and the use of Germans as the enemies is vaguely lazy. Also, as DC loves to do, it adds in extra characters and neglects to give them logical and coherent backstory and arcs. We only need to look at the ‘best marksman in the war’ who doesn’t fire a single shot, and continues not too all the way to the end of the film, showing no growth. The final plot hole is what draws it into the wider EU. The entirety of this film is showing Diana that the human race is bad and should be left alone, although when she defeats arias, this is meant to break this curse and peace seems to be restored. But, in BVS she claims to have stopped helping mankind because of their evils, neglecting Stalin, WW2 and the Vietnam war to name a few, but making a reappearance for- lex Luther. Wow.

Although in almost most of its entirety this was a pleasant watch, my personal issue stopped this at the third act when the final fight begins. To me the film returns to DCs favourite colour scheme of dark and clouded, and uses quite frankly some of the worst CGI I’ve seen recently, making me wonder why they didn’t at least try to incorporate real elements, such as Marvel, but this is still the best DC film after man of steel and I’m excited to see more female led and directed films come to screen.

JUSTICE LEAUGE 2016 5/10

This will be the shortest of the DC reviews, this is the film I’ve seen least of the lot and I feel I’ll need at least another viewing to get a full understanding. To premise this I fully understand Zack Snyder had personal issues leading him to leave and Joss take over, and this is in no way mocking him.

But I’ll dive in, maybe the fact I’m struggling to write this review tells me a lot about the movie. Wonder women was one of the only saving graces of this move, she was well understood and I feel her likeness as a character was well transferred from WW to JL. Contrary to this, I’m struggling to write about cyborg and flash, we were given next to no backstorys, although the flash’s was hinted at at least twice that I recall and what we were given were quite chaotic. Batman was a major letdown for me, coming down from BVS where he was a certified badass taking on superman, he turns into a wimp and hides for a majority of the film, quite evidently showing Ben affleck Clearly does not want to be there. I feel the overall plot of the film was almost underatsnvle, but had the taken the time to set up this storyline in previous films it would’ve been much better, this movie lacked the right to have all these characters on screen together. The characters had adequate screen time each, but contrary to its biggest rival ‘the avengers’ this really wasn’t that special, most of the characters had the same abilities, barring the flash, and the way the avengers films have shown all the characters working together simultaneously in cinematic mastery, you can see hints of Joss attempting this, but with a bad set up it’s an impossible task.

I conclude, not going into the issue with the CGi because I don’t have that much time.

2 notes · View notes

scribomaniac · 6 years

Text

A Matter of Time

[T-minus 24 hours] Light speed, light speed, light speed, Finn kept thinking over and over again as Poe and Rose spoke in hushed voices. They followed us through light speed. “They’re following us,” he said, just barely a whisper. He reached out and grabbed onto Poe’s arm—something strong enough to steady his fear—and immediately the other man’s attention was on him. “They’re following us.” “Yeah buddy,” Poe replied slowly, reaching up an arm of his own to squeeze Finn’s elbow. “We know that.” His brows furrowed and his eyes looked him over, trying to find any injury, any lasting effect of his coma that might be hindering his cognitive process. Finn shook his head and tightened his grip, “No, I mean, yes but—They’re following us. This ship! That’s how they’re doing it!” “Active tracking!” Rose shouted, her outburst surprising even herself. Gripping her necklace, she continued at a much lower volume, “Active tracking. They must have a tracker on their ship.” She crossed her arms over her chest, slowly becoming more and more uncomfortable with the attention they were giving her. “A powerful one, too. But that’s,” she frowned, “that’s still impossible...isn’t it? Through light speed, I mean—this’ll change—” “It’s the First Order,” Poe said grimly, cutting her off before her train of thought went too far down that dark tunnel. If the First Order could track the Resistance through lightspeed… it wasn’t good. They depended on lightspeed to strike their targets and then escape. Guerrilla war tactics, Finn had once heard Captain Phasma sneer. Without that edge of surprise, that ability to hit and run, then the fight was over. “I wouldn’t put it past them.” Vaguely, Finn realized that he was still holding onto Poe, and that Poe was still holding onto him. He wondered if he should let go, give the man some space. But then Poe’s eyes met his and the thought immediately vanished from his mind. Leaning in closer, he said, “We need to shut it down.” A million questions ran through Finn’s mind; most of them starting with what or how. It didn’t seem possible. To even shut the tracker down, they’d have to first get on The Supremacy. The Supremacy. Supreme Leader Snoke’s personal vessel. It was impossible. Impossible. But, a small voice in the back of Finn’s head reminded him, so was infiltrating Star Killer base. Infiltrating and surviving it. “I can do it.” Rose said. Her arms were no longer crossed over her chest, and instead were hanging by her side. It was the first time Finn had seen her look so still, so confident. When he’d first met her, she was so star struck by him-- him , a nobody, an ex-Stormtrooper--he’d understood why she’d chosen her position as a mechanic for the Resistance. Down in the machinery of the ships, there was less chance of running into people, less chance of stumbling over words or saying the wrong thing, and many places to hide. Now though, it was like looking at a completely different person. Rose’s eyes flared with determination and her hands balled into fists. She wasn’t hiding now, and she didn’t stutter as she said, “I can turn the tracker off. I know it.” Her eyes flickered back and forth between the two men, daring either of them to challenge her. Poe nodded slowly, his brows still furrowed, but Finn could see the light burning behind his eyes. He’d seen that fire before, right before he’d said the words that changed his life forever: “We’re gonna do this.” “Finn, do you know the layout of Snoke’s ship? Would you be able to get to the tracker?” Finn thought back to the days when he called The Supremacy home, when he’d shared a bunk in the barracks with two other fledgling Stormtroopers. It’d been a few years since he’d last set foot on the Mega-class Star Dreadnaught, but he still remembered it all like he’d been there just the other day. He nodded. “We still need to get on the ship,” Finn said, almost desperately. He wasn’t desperate for them to stop, though. No, his desperation came from the slow tremor of hope building its way up his belly and into his chest. He knew that light, knew that fire. He knew Poe. He’d know what to do, what to say, what was needed, “You need a pilot.” He knew then, just like he knew now. Poe brushed his lower lip with his thumb, thinking. Then, snapping his fingers, he said, “BB-8!” Looking down at his droid, Poe let go of Finn and dropped down to look into its eye. “Buddy!” He rubbed BB-8’s metal sides as if it were a pet. BB-8 warbled and beeped its binary language rapidly, rolling forwards and backwards almost frenetically, obviously worried about whatever its master was about to propose. “You can do it, BB-8. I know you can.” More beeping and swaying, this time it sounded suspicious. Poe talked to it in hushed tones, gently coaxing it to see his point of view, to agree with his idea. Then, after a moment of silence, BB-8 whistled with an almost shy agreeance. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Poe exclaimed. Springing up to his feet, Poe beamed like a proud parent, “BB-8 can get us on the ship.” Finn looked down at the small droid, a bit skeptical. BB-8 looked back up at him defiantly. Not wanting to get shocked twice in one night, he decided to just take Poe for his word. “But wait,” Rose shifted her weight from foot to foot as she tried to quell the rush of adrenaline in her veins, “what about the Vice Admiral? No way will Holdo approve this.” Lips thinning to a straight line and jaw tightening, Poe decided, “It’ll be a need to know mission. She doesn’t.” Finn didn’t know anything about this Vice-Admiral woman, but it seemed like Rose and Poe did, if only a little. Based off their behavior, though, they didn’t seem to feel any sense of loyalty to her, or any trust. And if Poe didn’t trust her, then neither would Finn. He looked at Finn while he said it, and Finn nodded in agreeance immediately. They held each other’s gaze for a moment longer before Poe winced, realizing something, and looked away, “That means I’ll have to stay here, then.” “What?” Finn asked, blinking dumbly. “Why?” “I’m too high ranking to go missing without permission.” Poe rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Finn felt there was something more to it, but—his eyes flickered over to Rose, the girl he’d just met and barely knew—didn’t push. “I’ll stay here,” Poe said again, slower this time and continuing with a definitive nod, “and make sure they don’t catch wind of what we’re doing.” “Good idea,” Rose said, biting down on her bottom lip while her hand clenched around the charm on her necklace again. “How much time left until we run out of fuel?” BB-8 whirred in answer, “Less than twenty four hours,” Poe translated. “Okay,” Rose said, her knuckles white against her necklace. “Okay. Then we better get moving.” Snapping her attention to Finn, she said, “Grab whatever you need and meet me back by the escape pods in thirty minutes.” She stepped away, getting as far as the door, then turned back around and added, “And don’t try to run away again.” Poe waited until they could no longer hear the tapping of her feet against the metal floors before asking, “What does that mean? Running away? Again?” Finn gulped and looked down at the cloaked binary beacon still wrapped around his wrist. He felt a little guilty about it, now. When he’d woken up before, he’d thought only of Rey and making sure she was okay. That she was safe. The last thing he’d remembered were flashes of snow, Rey, and danger. They’d been on Star Killer base and Kylo Ren was after them. And he’d...he’d picked up the lightsaber. As if he were some sort of hero or something. Then he remembered the pain. A med-droid had filled him in on the gaps: Kylo Ren had taken the lightsaber and sliced into his back, tearing through his muscles and burning each bone along his spinal column as he shoved the ex-Stormtrooper back into his place. Finn vaguely remembered the sensation, the blazing pain along his back, just briefly, before everything turned black. When he’d woken up, he thought it had all been a dream. Some strange, fantastical dream. His back felt perfectly fine, even. He felt warm and safe for the first time in his life. He’d felt so relaxed, so at peace, that he’d even kept his eyes closed for a bit, allowed himself to continue to rest. It had barely lasted ten minutes before memories of Star Killer base had returned to him, and he’d shot out of bed with Rey’s name on his lips. He’d been thinking about Rey and only Rey. Poe hadn’t even entered his mind when he’d grabbed his things and made for the escape pod. The revelation hit him harder than any Dreadnaught shot, and left a nasty taste in his mouth. “I was trying,” he started, then frowned and shook his head. His gaze was still locked on the beacon on his wrist, “I just wanted—” he cut himself off again. Anything he’d say now would just sound like an excuse. Rose was right, he was a coward. A hand, rough and scarred from more battles, ship maintenance and explosions, curled around Finn’s wrist, and his dark eyes snapped up to Poe’s. “Rey,” he whispered. His lips were thin and bloodless, strained as he bit back whatever thoughts wanted to spill out of his mouth. His eyes, though, they were soft and far more understanding than anyone in the pilot’s shoes should be. The sight made Finn’s heart clench and mouth feel as though it were suddenly filled with bile. “You we’re trying to keep her safe.” Finn nodded, feeling as though he’d lost the ability to speak lifetimes ago. He was a coward, a traitor, he was selfish and terrible and— “I understand,” Poe said, making all the thoughts rushing through Finn’s head come to an immediate halt. How’d he do it? Finn wondered. How could he forgive him? Understand him? He made it seem so easy. Releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, Finn tried to think of something to say. Something to make it all better—coward, traitor, selfish—he looked down at Poe’s fingers, still wrapped around his wrist. His pulse throbbed visibly through his skin, pounding away and making the beacon twitch ever so slightly. “Here,” he just barely grounded out, his shaky fingers ripping the beacon off his wrist and pressing it into Poe’s hand. Eyes widening, Poe shook his head and tried to give it back, but Finn persisted, “No, please, I—I need you to hold onto it. I need it to be safe.” I know you’ll keep her safe, went unsaid, but as their gazes held, Finn tried to to convey that thought, that belief. Brow furrowing, Poe nodded. His Adam’s Apple bobbled as he swallowed, the movement drawing away Finn’s eye. Beacon carefully clasped in one hand, Poe placed both hands on Finn’s shoulders, “I won’t let you down, buddy.” Coward, traitor, selfish —Finn nodded, keeping his thoughts on Poe before him, on the mission before him. It grounded his thoughts, just enough for him to nod and say, “Me neither.” Poe pulled him closer, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip nervously. They were only a breath apart now, so close to embracing like they did that day on D’Qar, after they both realized the other was still alive. Poe looked like wanted to say something, or do something, but Finn—watching frozen with wide eyes—didn’t know which. “You two done yet?” Rose’s voice broke through the trance. Finn blinked, startled—had it been a half hour already?—and tried to step away. Poe held fast though, his fingers clenching into the leather of his old jacket, and glared softly over his shoulder at Rose. Unperturbed by his stare, she added, “Just kiss already and let’s go!” Brows furrowing, Finn frowned and looked between the two official members of the Resistance They were still staring each other down; Rose’s lips twitched, almost like she wanted to laugh, while Poe looked almost murderous, his face flushed red with what Finn assumed was anger or frustration. “Yeah,” Finn said, breaking the silence and the stare down with one word. “Yeah, let’s go.” He grabbed his pack and turned to follow Rose when Poe’s hand shot out and grabbed his forearm. “Poe?” He asked after a few seconds of silence. Taking a deep breath through his nose, Poe slowly let go of him. Clearing his throat, he said, “Just—” he stopped and shook his head, “Bring BB-8 back to me, all right?” Looking down at the droid briefly, Finn’s mouth set into a determined line, “I will. I promise.”

#star wars #the last jedi #tlj #stormpilot #subplot fix it #poe dameron #finn #rose tico #minor mentions of rey #idk if she'll show up yet

64 notes · View notes

lunarlooroo · 6 years

Note

I've always been very fond of soul mate aus and was wondering if you get write one for the prompt thing?

Heather was born with misery imprinted on her skin. Asphodel[i] wound round an ankle, marigold[ii] on the nape of her neck, a field of yellow carnations[iii] on her back, a red spider lily[iv] over her heart.

She would never know it, but her parents fretted greatly over the hard life her soulmate had had already. Not to even mention how much older they were, as implied by the sheer number of soulflowers.

They covered her up as much as possible, keeping them out of sight. She was always dressed in ankle-length dresses, even in the peak of summer. She cried when she caught sight of the splashes of colour adorning her skin.

Another mark appeared the night her parents died. Wormwood[v] trailing down the corner of her left eye, almost like a stream of tears.

~~~

Ignoring the usual stares, Heather continued on her way to class. Her days of being self-conscious about her soulflowers were long past. She had more than most Hogwarts students did, of that she was well aware. Even her own brother Hadrian only had one on the small of his back. Most people pitied her when they saw her, and they only saw the more visible marks. She privately enjoyed the thought of them fainting if they ever saw the full extent of the tattoos on her body. Not that she would let them.

Heather didn’t see them as something pitiable. On the contrary, she admired the strength of her soulmate’s will, to keep going even after experiencing so much tragedy in their life. She was sad that they had had to endure any of it, of course, but that wasn’t something she could help. Life would throw what it would at them and all anyone could do was withstand it.

She sometimes wondered what her soulmate had thought about the mark that inevitably appeared the night of her parents’ deaths. She knew they had experienced a heartbreak on that day as well. She fingered her left cheek as she pondered on that.

The flowers were objectively beautiful, no doubt about that. If they weren’t representations of such grief, they would be admired for their aesthetic appeal. Even as a child, Heather had instinctively known they didn’t mean anything good.

Brushing all thoughts of soulflowers out of her mind, she stepped into class, internally rolling her eyes at the fresh round of stares.

~~~

Professor Snape didn’t have any marks, that she could see. Then again, the man was almost entirely covered from the neck down. It was typical to cover one’s soulflowers, but a few of Heather’s were so prominent that she had to leave them exposed.

She couldn’t very well wear a mask over the left side of her face, now could she? Though a glove would probably conceal the peony[vi] in the palm of her hand, she didn’t feel the need to hide away her marks like they were something to be ashamed of. She just had to make sure not to shake anyone’s hand with her right one.

Sometimes, Heather found herself wondering about Professor Snape’s soulmate. As far as she knew, he hadn’t yet found his. It was rather out of the ordinary, as the average age for it was about the mid-twenties. Her parents had found each other in their sixth years, themselves. She couldn’t imagine going so long without discovering her soulmate.

~~~

It was during a Wednesday session in her fifth year that it happened.

There was a certain phase in the brewing of Skelegro was so volatile that it was sort of illegal for uncertified brewers to attempt it. Of course, Professor Snape was teaching it to Heather despite this.

She blamed her brief moment of inattention when Professor Snape brushed up next to her to check her progress. Her hand jolted minutely, just a millimetre out of the spiral stir she was performing in the cauldron. It was enough, however, to instantly destabilise the potion. It immediately turned from a salmon pink shade to violent crimson, indicating the imminent explosion.

Heather froze, fear gripping her chest. Thankfully, Professor Snape pushed them both outside of the protective bubble they had been brewing in, collapsing safely on the floor outside of the blast radius.

Her heart was beating a mile a minute and she panted slightly, still trying to calm down from the near catastrophe. Her face had heated up and she thought it was likely out of embarrassment at her mistake.

It was a second later that she realised that Professor Snape’s fingers were brushing over her cheek. Her left cheek.

He was frozen above her, still in the same position where they had fallen onto the ground. Replaying the previous few seconds in her mind, she recalled that Professor Snape had touched her face while pushing her out of danger. Right where the wormwood crept across her skin.

The warmth emanating from her cheek wasn’t from the adrenaline rush or her embarrassed flush. It was from her soulflower.

As soon as the thought formed in her mind, Professor Snape lurched away from her.

“No, wait!” She reached her hand out, trying to keep him from leaving.

He stopped still, holding himself stiffly as he stood there. Carefully, she stood up as well, inching closer to him. She was afraid that a single wrong move would send him fleeing. And wasn’t that a strange thought – the feared master of the dungeons running from a tiny witch like her.

“You felt that right?” she asked softly. “When you touched my mark.”

A curt nod.

“Did you…sense anything?” Because it was possible that it didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t have been a freak accident, magic sparking due to the failed potion. If he didn’t sense the meaning of the soulflower, then this was nothing. She desperately hoped that it was not nothing.

He took longer to reply this time. After a few moments’ pause, he straightened his spine and turned to look at her. Seeming almost apologetic, he said, “Yes.”

Heather didn’t care about any of that, because she only took note of the single word he uttered. Because standing in front of her right now was her soulmate.

She stepped closer. “Could I…could I hug you?”

Professor Snape (her soulmate!) looked startled by her request, which she really didn’t understand. “Why?” he asked shocked.

“You’re my soulmate!” she explained. And really, wasn’t that enough?

He flinched the moment he heard the words, which may as well have been a slap to the face. She made a wounded sound as a horrifying realisation came upon her. “You don’t want me.” Hunching in on herself, she scrambled backwards, away from him. “S-sorry. You must have hoped for someone a bit older, huh?” She wasn’t a child, not mentally, at least, but she was much younger than him.

“No, that is not the problem!” the man huffed out, frustrated. He ran a hand through his hair in a rare show of discomfort. “Why are you not more upset by this? Being saddled with a soulmate like me?” Even saying the word seemed to make him wince.

“What are you talking about. ‘Someone like you’?” Heather scowled heavily at the insinuation.

“Yes!” Professor Snape hissed, “A bitter, cruel, ugly man more than twice your age, your parents’ age!”

Her face fell at the way he described himself. For all that he cut down his students with his criticism, she should have known that he was his own worst critic. He couldn’t see the good in himself, not like she could.

“Professor…” She shook her head sadly. “That’s not- You can be very sharp with your words, and disagreeable on the best of days when it comes to your students, but that’s not all you are. You have very high standards in your class, and most of the students don’t meet them. You’re only so harsh because the slightest misstep could cause so much harm.”

Her eyes lingered over the charred mess just metres away from them. If it hadn’t been for his quick actions, Heather would have been done for.

“And you’re not ugly. You might not have classically handsome features, but I’ve always thought you had a very striking appearance. Besides, looks aren’t everything. You know what happened to Lockhart.”

That managed to elicit a scoff from him.

“As for the last thing, well, that’s no exactly something we can help. Besides, 18 years isn’t that large. There have been documented age differences between soulmates as high as 30 years! I don’t think your age is a problem, if that’s your concern.”

“That does not change the fact that I am eminently unsuitable for you,” he maintained stubbornly.

Crossing her arms, Heather frowned in displeasure. “That is not for you to decide.”

“Are you saying you had a choice in this?” he asked dubiously, waving a hand in the general direction of her face.

“No, but no one is forcing me into anything. Having each other’s marks isn’t equivalent to a bonding ceremony. People can still choose whether to have a relationship with their soulmate or not.” There were people who found their soulmates only after marrying someone else and simply chose to be friends with them. Some never found theirs at all.

“You cannot possibly think this is a good idea.”

“Why not?” Heather asked, tilting her head up defiantly. “I think you’re brilliant. You’ve helped me so much. You’re witty, wickedly intelligent, an incredibly talented potioneer. I could certainly do much worse.” And if she was being honest, Professor Snape was who she had hoped to be her soulmate for a long time. All through this, she kept her gaze fixed on his, so he could see the sincerity in her eyes.

Professor Snape was clearly conflicted. He seemed all too willing to believe the worst of himself, but she could tell her words had an effect on him.

In lieu of words, he reacted by reaching up to unbutton the high collar of his shirt. Heather could only watch, transfixed, as he slowly revealed the skin of his left shoulder. The bright burst of green along the line of his shoulder seemed out-of-place on the man who only dressed in monochrome. The mark was a conifer of some sort, though she couldn’t place it.

“It is a cypress[vii], an evergreen coniferous tree with small, scale-like leaves,” Professor Snape said, sensing her question.

Nodding, she flicked her eyes up to his before going back to stare at the mark. Her hand unconsciously reached out, as if to touch it, but she tensed once she realised what she was doing.

To her surprise, the man didn’t pull away, but stood there, waiting. Waiting, for what?

Taking a leap of faith, her hand started forwards again, slowly. He stayed still. Plucking up her courage, she closed the last inch between her fingers and the tattoo.

The instant she made contact, the link caused a deluge of emotions to swamp her. Horror, despair, grief. Impressions of memories flashed across her mind. Green light, pleas for mercy, deathly silence.

As soon as it started, it stopped, giving way to warmth, like being pulled ashore after an eternity at sea. The comfort almost brought tears to her eyes.

It took her a few tries to work her throat without choking up. “This is when He killed them,” she whispered hoarsely.

Without a word, Professor Snape opened his arms slightly. Without hesitation, she dove into the offered embrace, clutching tightly.

She didn’t know how long they stayed in that position before Professor Snape said, “The wormwood was when I found Lily dead.”

Heather’s eyes widened as she listened, unaware that this had happened.

“I arrived at Godric’s Hollow much too late. By the time I got there, your parents were cold bodies on the floor and you had cried yourself to sleep, cradling your brother in your arms. No one could pry him out of them.”

She buried closer into his chest, seeking and giving as much comfort as she could.

~~~

It took a few years, a war, and the appearance of new marks on the both of them, but they eventually got around to linking to each soulflower. Each and every one brought them closer to each other.

Heather’s red spider lily had been the only one to make Severus cry. His fallout with her mother had almost broken him.

It had taken her a long time to open up about what his lobelia[viii] symbolised. Vernon Dursley was never the same after the visit that followed.

It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows after that. New marks still appeared in the years following the war. But at least they had each other to share the burdens of tragedy.

Heather knew that if joy was inked on their bodies like sorrow was, there would be many more bellflowers[ix] and celandines[x] and plumerias[xi] than marigolds and wormwood.

And when their children presented their first soulflowers, instead of forcing them to cover them up, Heather and Severus would explain to them how these marks were magic’s way of letting soulmates sooth each other’s pain. A burden shared was a burden halved, after all.

Their children would wear their marks without shame.

[i] My regrets follow you to the grave

[ii] Pain and grief

[iii] Rejection, disdain, disappointment

[iv] Never to meet again, lost memory, abandonment

[v] Absence, bitter sorrow

[vi] Shame

[vii] Death, mourning, despair, sorrow

[viii] Malevolence

[ix] Unwavering love

[x] Joys to come

[xi] Perfection, springtime, new beginnings

AN If it wasn’t clear, in this universe, soulmarks appear as plants, like flowers, herbs, trees, on a person with each tragedy or heartbreak their soulmate experiences. Soulflowers are very private things, sometimes even seen as something shameful because of their origin. In polite society, people never touch each other’s marks unless invited to. Most people cover them up with clothing, since magic and makeup can’t hide them.

When someone’s soulmate touches the mark for the first time, they get impressions and feelings of the event that created the mark, before feeling a great sense of peace, like having their soul cleansed of the pain. This is known as ‘linking’. It’s a very intimate experience, of course, and linking with all the marks on each other’s bodies is important for many soulmates, like getting married is for some couples.

#WHfP #prompt ficlets

5 notes · View notes

babylon-bitch · 6 years

Text

Just Friends ~ Drown (part 62)

A/N: I write around 9 or 10 chapter a head, and currently I’m writing the Christmas chapters. I want to get those out around the holiday season, so you’re gonna get around 2 or 3 chapters a week for a while, just a heads up so you don’t get confused. Also this is Harper’s cover: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=FU5ifmugneM

Harper White is best friends with Luke Hemmings, they always have been. Not only is she friends with the rockstar, but with the rest of 5 Seconds Of Summer, as well as a really nice girl named Erika.

Harper has a few secrets, she can play all the instruments the boys play and many more. It’s a talent she has kept hidden, only very few people know.

What will happen to the six teens, wondering around the world together

***

Harper’s P.O.V.

“Josh, wake up.” I shake his shoulder.

“Name me one good reason why.” He states.

“Because we’re about to land so you need to put your seatbelt on, mum would kill me if I left you, you’re sitting on my earphone wire so I’ve got limited mobility, and I was told to.” I state multiple.

“Well aren’t you a smarty pants.” He sighs and rubs his eyes.

“Thanks.” I say.

“Who told you to wake me up?” He asks, sitting up straight.

“Angus.” I say.

“Oh, hey, forgot about you.” Josh turns towards Angus.

“You’re just bitter I got the window seat.” Angus declares.

“Shut up.” Josh mutters. “I’m the oldest, I should get to pick where I sit.” He complains.

“Where’d you get that from?” I ask.

“The rules.”

“Well in that case I’m the youngest so I should get to pick where I sit, because I don’t wanna be in the middle.”

“You need to reread the rules, mate.” Angus tells me.

“Okay, fuck the rules, if we’re gonna do this properly, either Josh or me should get the window seat and you be in the middle because it goes in order.” I say.

“Ugh I hate being the middle child.” Angus groans.

“I love being the youngest because I’m the favourite.” I say smugly.

“I love being the oldest so I can be the boss.” Josh repeats my tone. “And I don’t think that’s true, I’m the favourite.”

“Okay, if that’s right, why did mum and dad pay for my flight?” I smirk.

“What?” They say in unison.

“What?” I raise an eyebrow.

“I’m a uni student, I have limited money.” Josh exclaims.

“Me too, you actually have a steady job, you probably have more money than us.” Angus states.

“Like I said, I’m the youngest, check the rules.” I wink and turn my attention to my phone, drowning their grumbles.

“Is it true you played for her flight and not ours?” Is the first thing Angus asks when we meet up with our parents.

“I told you not to tell them.” Mum tells me.

“They were ganging up on me!” I play the victim and rest my head on her shoulder, whilst wrapping my arms around her, making her loosely wrap her arms around me.

“You were bragging that you were the favourite.” Josh calls me out.

“Hey, I just broke up with my boyfriend, cut me some slack.” I say.

“Harper that was nearly 11 months ago.” Angus deadpans.

“It still hurts.” I clutch my heart.

“God, anything to wind up your brothers.” Dad laughs and I high five him.

“Great strat right?” I laugh.

It’s been a while, it’s nearly Halloween so I decided I’d join my brother’s when they go home instead of getting wasted at some lame party I’ll barely remember in the morning this year. It’s probably better for me because I’ve been out a lot recently, and a couple weeks free of heavily drinking will do me good.

I’ve really just ignored everything and tried to get through uni. I finished my first year of university last month, and now I’m in my second year. I’ve thrown everything over my shoulder, waiting to deal with it later, and not looked back

The only time I’m open is when I’m with my therapist, and that lasts for an hour and a bit, then the next day I’m shut tight. I haven’t talked to the boy’s or girls in ages, the last I had contact with them is when I ran into Calum. I’m only talking physical.

I’ve thought about them a lot, especially one boy, but I’m waiting to deal with that later, I’m not in the right headspace to sort that out because that’s gonna take a long time, and I’m just not in the right place to do so right now.

That’s if I can ever deal with that.

It’s weird, I haven’t moved on from where I was like 8 months ago, I’ve just accumulated more pain and more clutter, and after 10 and a bit months, you would of thought I’d be able to move on, but I just can’t. I physically can’t. I’ve tried, but my heart just hurts if I try to move on. I’ve done it successfully a few times, but for a solid week and a bit after, I’m just so fucking guilty.

There was a close time where I almost called Luke. I’d went home with a guy the previous night, then the next night I was drunk and crying, and I just stared at his contact for what could’ve been minutes or hours, I’m not sure, but my thumb hovered over call for ages, and at one point I fell asleep.

I’ve been tempted to talk to the other boys, but if I need to move on from Luke, talking to his best friends isn’t gonna help much.

“Can we go now?” I whine, had enough of all this mushy stuff.

“Fine.” Dad sighs exasperated.

Last time I’d come back with my brother’s, I was still with Luke and days away from a break up. It’s weird to think that, because I had no idea at all that that was gonna happen, and it was such a shock when he told me, I almost didn’t believe him, but the way his voice cracked and the desperate tone of voice told me it was real.

It seems like a life time ago I was actually with Luke and happy, yet it only seems like yesterday.

“Can’t wait to go you to see the new arrangements, we moved things around and now it looks so much better.” My mum excitedly says.

“I’m sure it looks great mum.” I tell her.

“What she said.” Josh points at me.

“Shotgun not sitting in the middle.” I call.

“Same.” Josh calls.

“Shotgun.” Angus says.

“Hey you can’t call it, I just did.” Josh tells Angus.

“You didn’t actually say shotgun, plus I’d tone your voice down because shouting shotgun in an airport is not too wise.” Angus informs.

“It’s the rules.” I say into his ear before walking away.

“I hate you guys so much, I’m the oldest.” Josh grumbles.

“With the oldest anger problem too.” Angus teases and we high five.

Luke’s P.O.V.

“And that’s tour done!” Ashton exclaims as we step off the plane.

“It was so much fun.” Calum smiles.

“Yeah.” I agree.

“I’m so excited to be reunited with my bed.” Michael breathes a sigh of relief.

“Same, but before I do that, I’ll need to pee because I’m kinda desperate.” Calum says.

“Really Calum?” I ask.

“Yeah!”

“Why couldn’t you pee on the plane?” I question.

“Because when I flush, it sounds like I broke the plane.” He explains.

“Are your parents related?” I ask.

“No.” He shakes his head confused.

“Then why are you so stupid?” I ask.

“I was probably dropped as a baby.” He shrugs.

“And then dropped on every step on the stairs.” I mumble.

“Take that stick out your ass, Hemmings.” Michael tells me.

“Been trying to for the past 11 months.” I sigh.

“Holy fuck, how big is it?” Calum exclaims.

“It can’t be that big, he’s just being a baby.” Ashton tunes in.

“Well, you try losing someone important to you, see how you feel then.” I glare at him.

“Okay so apparently it’s a whole fucking oak forest.” Michael says.

“Just leave me alone.” I groan.

“Honestly Luke, when are you gonna get over her?“ Michael questions.

“I’m asking myself the same question.” I shake my head. “I just can’t I don’t know why, I’ve tried, I’ve tried so hard, but it doesn’t work.”

“What have you done with a girl ever since you broke up with Harper?” Calum questions.

“I hooked up with one girl last month, and it just wasn’t the same, I didn’t enjoy it, and I was out of there as soon as possible.”

“Maybe because you were so used to doing it with love, and it didn’t feel the same because it was meaningless.” Ashton suggests.

“Maybe.” I nod.

“Did you feel guilty at all.” Calum asks.

“So fucking guilty.” I answer. “It was like I was cheating on her all over again.”

“What went on with that? Like did you know it was another girl? Did you think it was Harper because you were so drunk? Did you intentionally sleep with another girl? We don’t really know what happened.” Ashton bumbards me with questions.

“I think a part of me thought it was Harper, but as it went on I noticed little things that Harper didn’t have or do or whatever. I know being drunk isn’t an excuse, but I was just so out of it, I wasn’t thinking. It just sorta happened and when I woke up in the morning, I was devastated, and I didn’t know what to do, I knew I’d have to tell her, because I couldn’t keep that in. I decided to tell her face to face, because I’m already a shitty person for sleeping with someone else, I dont want to be even shittier by not.”

“You really did fuck up.” Michael tells me.

“You think I don’t know that?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Did you know her at all?” Calum asks.

“No idea who she was.” I shake my head.

“Do you remember he name?” Ash questions.

“I can’t even remember what she looked like, let alone her name. I think she was blonde.” I try to remember.

“Did she know who you were?” Calum questions.

“I can barely remember anything of that night, how am I supposed to remember the specifics?” I sigh.

“But you remember sleeping with her?” Michael asks.

“Yeah.” I nod.

“You did actually sleep with her right? You didn’t like imagine it or something?” Calum asks.

“I defiantly did because I remember her leaving in the morning, leaving me her number. Plus, there were paparazzi pictures of me and her I think.” I answer as we get into a car.

“Oh yeah, that caused a lot of drama.” Michael laughs. “What did Harper say about those?”

“Uh, she asked me about them and I just told her she was drunk and I was helping her, she bought it because she trusted me, and look where that went – down the drain.”

***

“Luke!” My mum calls for me.

“Yeah?” I shout back.

“Come down.”

I sigh, putting on a shirt, as I walk out, because I just got out the shower. Skipping down the stairs, I go towards the kitchen where I here talking. Walking in I see Michael, Calum and Ashton.

“Hey guys?” I ask confused.

“Hi, we’re going to surprise the girls.” Michael says.

“And by girls you mean…”

“Erika and Maddie.” Ashton answers.

“Yeah not Harper because you know, she’s not in the country.” Calum explains.

“Right.” I nod. “Anything else?”

“Yeah we’re gonna be livestreaming it.” Ashton replies.

“Why?” I question.

“Because why not?” Calum tells me.

“But like, there’s no point.” I furrow my eyebrows.

“Get with the times, people love this shit, the amount of videos I’ve watched of soldiers coming home is astonishing.” Michael exclaims.

“We’re not soldiers though.” I state.

“So? People will still love it.”

“Okay, why livestream though?”

“So people can be in the moment.” Ashton encourages.

“Whatever.” I shake my head, going into the fridge.

“When are we going?” Calum asks, looking up from his phone.

“In a minute.”

Walking up Erika’s drive way, Ashton has his phone out, and we’re all a little giddy.

“So they have no idea we’re home?” I ask.

“Nope.” Ashton shakes his head.

“Who’s knocking?” Michael questions.

“I’ll do it.” Calum calls and knocks on the door.

“I hope she’s in.” I chuckle.

We hear the door make sounds and it opens, revealing Erika, and her eyes instantly widen.

“Guys!” She shrieks and instantly hugs Calum.

“Erika!” Calum mocks and wraps his arms around her torso.

“What’s going on out her- oh my God.” The voice of Maddie says.

“Maddie!” Michael grins and pulls her into a hug.

Calum lets go of Erika then she comes up towards me, and I pull her into a hug. “I missed you.” She tells me.

“Aw, I missed you too.” I smile and let go of her.

“How’ve you been?” She asks.

“Fine.” I nod, stuffing my hands into my pockets. “You?”

“Good, missed everyone like crazy.” Erika sighs. “I’ll uh speak in a minute.” She gestures towards the other boys.

“Yeah.”

“Luke!” Maddie grins.

“Hi!” I chuckle, pulling her into a quick hug. “How has it been with out your one true love?” I joke.

“Better actually.” She answers and I playfully glare at her. “Nah, your one true love is 15 minutes away.”

“What?” I ask but she walks away.

I watch Ashton say goodbye to his phone and he puts it in his pocket, a smile plastered onto his face.

“Who else at you surprising?” Erika asks.

“It’s just you, no one left, because we’re loners.” Calum laughs.

“I take it you already did Harper then?” Erika raises and eyebrow.

“What?” We question.

“Did she not tell you?” Erika asks.

“No, we haven’t spoken to her in months.” Calum shakes his head.

“Really? She didn’t tell you?” Maddie asks.

“Clearly.” Michael replies.

“Oh.” She mumbles.

“That’s unfortunate.” Erika scratches the back of her neck.

“What did she tell you?” I ask.

“Uh, she said, hi, back in Aus for a little, wanna meet up at some point? It’ll do me good to take a break from everything haha.” Erika reads from her phone, making me shake my head.

“I guess she’s officially done with us.” Ashton sighs.

“I don’t think she knows you’re here, to be honest.” Maddie states.

“Actually that’s very true, you should go over and surprise her, I can assure you she doesn’t hate you, and she won’t be mad if you surprise her.” Erika explains.

“You think?” Michael questions.

“Yeah.” She nods.

“Well next stop, Harper’s.”

*** Michael’s P.O.V.

“You know I think I’m just gonna go home, she doesn’t want to see me and I have to respect that, you carry on and I’ll just watch the stream.” Luke tells us.

“You sure?” Calum asks.

“Yeah, I’ll catch you guys later.” He gives us a sad smile.

“Alright, bye.” I wave and he waves back, then crosses the road going over to his house, which is just a few houses down.

“I’m kinda nervous.” Ashton says pulling out his phone

“Same.” I agree walking up the stairs.

“Do you think she’s in? There’s no cars on the driveway.” Calum points out.

“Ma-”

“Wait, I can hear music.” I cut Ashton off.

“You can?” Calum furrows his eyebrows.

“Yeah, listen.” I reply and we all go silent, hearing the faint sound of a piano.

“Wow that sounds really nice.” Calum comments.

“Yeah, she probably won’t be able to hear us if we knock.” Ashton states.

“Let’s go through the back, it’s always open.” Calum says making me me snicker.

“Nah, that’s not Harper.” I laugh.

“This is a sentimental moment we’re about to have!” Ashton exclaims.

We walk round, going through the gate walking up the path we meet the backdoor.

Calum opens it and the music gets louder, but now a voice runs with it, and it sounds a lot like Harper’s. We all look at each other in confusion and Ashton readjusts his phone as we make our way towards the noise.

Walking into the living room, we see Harper sat at a grand piano, her fingers moving over the keys, as her voice runs like liquid honey with the music.

I take a listen to the lyrics and they’re heart breaking.

What doesn’t kill you makes you wish you were dead. Got a hole in my soul, growing deeper and deeper. And I can’t take one more moment of this silence. The loneliness is haunting me. And the weight of the world’s getting harder to hold up.

It comes in waves, I close my eyes. Hold my breath and let it bury me. I’m not okay, and it’s not alright. Won’t you drag the lake and bring me home again?

Who will fix me now? Dive in when I’m down? Save me from myself, don’t let me drown. Who will make me fight? Drag me out alive? Save me from myself, don’t let me drown.

What doesn’t destroy you, leaves you broken instead. Got a hole in my soul growing deeper and deeper. And I can’t take one more moment of this silence. The loneliness is haunting me. And the weight of the world’s getting harder to hold up.

It comes in waves, I close my eyes. Hold my breath and let it bury me. I’m not okay, and it’s not alright Won’t you drag the lake and bring me home again?

Who will fix me now? Dive in when I’m down? Save me from myself, don’t let me drown. Who will make me fight? Drag me out alive? Save me from myself, don’t let me drown.

‘Cause you know that I can’t do this on my own. (Woah oh oh oh) ‘Cause you know that I can’t do this on my own. (Woah oh oh oh) ‘Cause you know that I can’t do this on my own. (Woah oh oh oh) (‘Cause you know that I can’t do this on my own.)

Who will fix me now? Who will fix me now? Who will fix me now? Dive in when I’m down? Save me from myself, don’t let me drown.

( https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=FU5ifmugneM)

The boys and I look at each other in shock, and a little confusion. It takes years for someone to play piano like that, and I’ve known Harper for years, and I’ve not seen her play any type of instrument besides a ukulele. I knew she could sing, and she was very shy about that, but that’s all I know.

“Suprise.” Ashton cautiously says.

Harper suddenly turns around, her eyes widen and a smile grows on her face.

“What are you guys doing here?” She asks.

“Uh, enough about us, what was that, since when could you play piano?” Calum changes the subject.

“What are you guys doing here?” She repeats, making us laugh.

“Well?” I raise an eyebrow.

“We’ve gotta go, there’s a conversation ahead of us and I’ll update you later.” Ashton says to his phone.

“You were recording?” Harper questions.

“Livestreaming.” Ashton corrects.

“Oh wow.”

“So, music lady, explain.” I urge.

“Music lady?” She laughs and I nod. “Uh, I’ve been playing since I was like 10.”

“10?” We all exclaim.

“10.” She confirms.

“How come we’ve never seen you play before?” Ashton questions.

“I don’t know, it’s my own little secret, it’s not a big deal.” She shrugs.

“It’s a big deal, you’ve kept it for 9 years.” Calum tells her.

“Whatever, can we talk about this later?” Harper begs.

“Fine, but give me a hug first.”

5 notes · View notes

your-not-invisible-to-me · 7 years

Text

Piece By Piece- (Rob Benedict x Reader) PART 4

Chapter 3

A/N: It’s 5:28 AM. I am not responsible for any grammar or continuity errors. Also, part 5 will be the last part. Enjoy!

Summary: Reader is a teenage actress on Supernatural, and at 15 years old her abusive parents kick her out of the house because they disapprove of her career. After an emotional breakdown at the latest convention, Rob takes her in.

Pairing: Father Figure Rob x Reader

Word Count: 2,873

WARNING: There actually isn’t any warnings in this chapter the story should be happy from now on.

LISTEN TO THIS SONG FIRST: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pwTMz6Nfhjg

Life changed rather quickly after that day, and let me just tell you it changed for the better.

It was barely two weeks later when it became legally official, and the rest of the Supernatural cast found out. It was time for another con.

Rob walked down the hallway backstage toward the green room with Rich. It was Saturday evening, and Jared and Jensen had just arrived at the hotel just in time for the Saturday Night Special. Everyone was in the green room besides Rob and Rich, as they had just finished last minute photo opps.

“Hey, Rob, wanna meet up for beers Sunday night? Our flight gets into LA early so we’d have plenty of time to get a drink.” said Rich.

Rob sighed, weary of giving his best friend an answer. He and Y/N hadn’t told anyone of their new living situation yet. Rob because he wanted to wait until it was official, and, well, Y/N because she was afraid telling people would jinx the chance of it actually becoming true.

And besides, Rob knew he couldn’t go out drinking on a Sunday night, Y/N needed a ride to school at 7:00 AM the next morning.

Before Rob could answer, his phone rang in his pocket, stopping R2 in their tracks. He pulled his phone out, happy to see the name of his lawyer appear for the caller ID.

“Um, head inside, this will just take a second.” Rich looked at his best friend, a bit confused before just walking through the door.

“Hello?” asked Rob.

“Hey Rob, it’s (lawyer’s name).”

“Oh hey, please tell me you’re calling with good news.” him and Y/N were expecting the official call any day now.

“Actually, Rob, I have good news indeed. I just got the paper work from Y/N’s biological parents. They signed each form, waiving their legal rights to the guardianship of Y/N Y/L/N. Congrats, you just gained the responsibility of a 15-year-old.” said Rob’s lawyer with a laugh.

“Thank you, thank you so much.” said Rob, hanging up and giving himself the authority to do a fist pump. After the social worker had visited the two of them the past Monday, he was glad this was all over. Y/N finally had a safe home.

Walking into the green room, all eyes turned to him as it was quite obvious Rob was in a better mood than he had been in all day.

“What’s put a pep in your step there, Mr. Benedict?” asked Briana. Briana, Kim, Rich, Jason, Jensen, Jared, Matt, Mark, Ruth, Billy, Stephen, and Mike all sat, looking at Rob with questioning eyes.

“Oh, nothing that you won’t find out in the next five minutes. Where’s Y/N?” asked Rob.

“Here I am.” said Y/N, walking out of the bathroom.

In the month that Y/N had been staying with Rob, it was like she had become a completely different person, her personality flipping a switch. She was more outgoing, and less afraid to strike up a conversation with someone.

Teachers noticed at school, enjoying the fact that the girl now walked into class with a smile on her face. The few friends she had were surprised, but didn’t dare question why their friend was a lot happier than she used to be.

She even was more outgoing backstage at the convention, a lot more present and into everything that happened at the hotel. It was no longer having to do her job worried about what would happen when she left that Sunday.

In the almost two days of the current con, she was confident enough to be able to call the rest of the cast her friends, no longer just sticking to Rob’s side.

The cast was just happy to know the kid was okay, details didn’t matter.

————————————————————————————————————-

“What’s up, Rob?” I asked, closing the bathroom door behind me. I could tell by just looking at the man that something good had happened.

I looked at the others, they all shrugged not knowing the answer to give.

“Well, Y/N, I just got off the phone with my lawyer.” My heart immediately started pounding, all the negative outcomes pouring through my head.

The judge didn’t approve the petition, my parents didn’t waive their guardian rights, hell knowing them they didn’t even turn in the forms at all. The options were endless.

“Rob-.” Rob held his hand up, stopping me before I could even continue. He knew what I was thinking. Rob reached into his pocket, pulling out what seemed to be a lanyard…with a small key attached to the bottom.

“I am now officially your legal guardian.” said Rob, the smile having yet to leave his face. My jaw dropped.

“They actually signed the waiver forms?”

“They actually signed the waiver forms. You never have to see them ever again. Heck, according to my lawyer, they even dropped a box of your clothes and belongings to her office.” I quickly engulfed Rob into a tight hug. A soft ‘umph’ could be heard as he didn’t expect it.

“What the heck just happened?” asked Rich.

Rob and I laughed turning to our friends, knowing now that we had no choice but to tell them everything. And we did exactly that. Few were surprised to hear that Rob had been right those weeks ago when he had first stated his fear; wondering why I hadn’t said anything before. Some joked, telling Rob he didn’t know what he was in store for when it came to raising a girl, Jensen, Briana, and Kim joking the most as they were the ones with daughters.

But all in all, they were supportive, the group of us sharing a toast with the drinks we had before Rob, Mike, Billy, and Stephen were called on stage.

————————————————————————————————————-

The first few months were hard, as the nightmares that had started still persisted through the night no matter where I was living. But each night, Rob was there, bolting through my bedroom door in a near instant as soon as he heard the first sound of screams.

“Shhh, Y/N it’s okay. Kiddo, it’s me. You’re safe. They’re not here, I promise. You’re just having a bad dream.”

Rob repeated the words to you each night the dreams went on, waiting until you had calmed and even staying until you had fallen back asleep. They could happen multiple times a night, sometimes to the point where Rob would let you stay home from school because he knew you wouldn’t have been able to last.

But not once did he complain.

It wasn’t until about three months later when Rob had fallen asleep in a Louden Swain rehearsal for the second time that Billy confronted him.

“Rob, what the heck is going on?” asked Billy. Stephen and Mike had already left the music studio for the day.

“Sorry man, just haven’t had the best opportunities to sleep lately.” said Rob, not meaning to yawn in the middle of that sentence, but it happened anyway.

“Dude, it’s just you and Y/N at home, what could possibly be keeping you up so much?”

Rob sighed, giving in to his friend and telling him about your nightmares, not getting into details by any means, but he was worried, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do at this point.

“I don’t know man. I’m just worried I don’t have the tools to help her with this. It’s not like you have control on your subconscious.”

“Have you suggested taking her to therapy?” asked Billy.

“What?” He had to admit, he hadn’t thought that far.

“Well, think about it Rob. She’s been through hell and back with her parents, that much has been obvious. Who knows what the heck they could have done to her, who knows everything she’s been through. Maybe talking to a professional wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” said Billy.

Rob sighed, thanking his friend, knowing that he was more than probably right.

You were extremely hesitant at first when Rob brought the option up to you at dinner, you didn’t want Rob to have to pay for another thing for you, especially something that you didn’t necessarily think was needed.

“Y/N, you know I’m here for you, whenever you decide you’re ready to talk to me about what happened to you, or what the dreams are even about. I just think that for the meantime, talking to a professional defiantly won’t hurt. You haven’t slept yourself in weeks.

Well, he wasn’t wrong about that.

But it wasn’t until you got Rob to agree to let you pay for at least half of the cost before you agreed to go.

And frankly, it worked.

Rob had found a therapist that was local, and agreed to work around both you and Rob’s acting schedule, and your school schedule as well.

(Wayward Sisters had recently been announced, and you were in talks with producers to be a key character.)

After the second session, the therapist had given you a very mild sedative to help you sleep at night, and it worked like a charm. The nightmares disappeared almost instantly. After the fifth, you weren’t afraid to tell Rob about the things that had happened to you, the beatings you had taken, or even that time you had went weeks where the only food you had was what was served to you at school.

You even had the nerve to tell him about the scars left on you that hadn’t come from anyone else but you.

But Rob sat and listened, not daring to say a word until you were completely finished. He didn’t judge, he didn’t question.

“Promise me that if you ever feel like doing that to yourself ever again, Y/N, that you’ll come to me, or Rich, or Billy, or any one of us.”

“Yeah, I promise Rob.”

Giving you a hug and making you a promise that everything was gonna be okay, the two of you headed off to bed. As you laid in bed, Rob’s words kept replaying in your mind.

“Everything is gonna be okay.”

Frankly, you believed him.

————————————————————————————————————-

Sometimes it was the little things Rob did for you that meant the most, and he didn’t even realize he was doing them.

He had taken you to get your drivers permit the second you had gotten the courage to ask, and even had given you a few drivers lessons whenever the two of you each had free time.

Your acting career was taking off gradually, guest spots on shows here and there, while still going to school full time. Rob had gotten the same amount of acting jobs he usually did, his work schedule never really changing. He took you with him if the job lasted for more than a week, but trusted you enough to stay home by yourself if it was less. It especially helped when Kim offered to give you a ride to school when Rob was out of town, considering she was up and about anyway with her own kids, and Rob’s apartment was right on the way to her own kid’s school. Rob left more than enough money for food and any supplies of course.

However, you had just officially signed on for Wayward Sisters, which was supposed to start filming the summer after your current school year had ended. This meant you would be flying up to Vancouver more frequently, and while you and Rob hadn’t worked the details out, you both knew how busy life was about to get.

It had reached May, though, which meant it was the end of your sophomore year of high school, and time for the parent-teacher evaluation conferences that they held at the end of each year. Your parents had never shown up to one before, and to be honest, you were a little weary about asking Rob to attend.

“C’mon, Y/N, just ask him. You know how less painful the conference will go when you don’t have to explain to Mr. McAdams that your parents are working, and that you swear you’ll get the information to them later. It really isn’t that big of a deal.” said Hayden, your best friend, Mr. McAdams being the head teacher of the 10th grade class. The two of you sat at the kitchen table of you and Rob’s apartment that morning, having spent the past night working on a science project that hadn’t been completed due to the fact that you had just spent the past week and a half in Vancouver filming a Supernatural episode. Her mom had offered to give the two of you a ride to school that morning and right now you were just waiting.

“Hayden, it’s just a conference. I’ve been lying to every head teacher we’ve had since these conferences started in sixth grade. Three more won’t hurt.”

“Three more of what won’t hurt?” asked Rob, appearing suddenly from the door way, carrying his guitar case as he had a rehearsal with Louden Swain today.

“Nothing, just thinking about how three more days of school won’t kill us too bad.” you said, surprised about how fast that had come out of your mouth. Luckily Hayden came to your rescue.

“Hey, Y/N, my mom’s out front.” said Hayden, standing up and grabbing her bag off the counter.

“Um, I’ll be back around 7:00 tonight.” you said. You may not have asked Rob to come to the conference, but you were still required to. You rushed out the door behind your friend before Rob even had the chance to respond, but not before a paper slipped out of your backpack as it hit the table.

Rob picked it up, surprised as he read what was on it.

REQUIRED PARENT TEACHER CONFERENCE

Student and Parent must be present to speak with Mr. McAdams about your child’s performance throughout this past school year.

4:30-7:00 PM

Y/N Y/L/N: 6:30PM.

You can bet your ass Rob showed up that night, leaving the Louden Swain rehearsal early with no explanation to the guys even.

Heck he was even more surprised to learn that in the near year you had been staying with him, your grades had improved dramatically.

“I don’t know what you’ve been doing, Mr. Benedict, but even with all the traveling Y/N has done in the past year, her GPA went from a 2.7 to 3.5. The highest jump she’s ever had.

Y/N didn’t know it, but as Rob looked at you from the chair sitting next to yours, he held so much pride that he didn’t look at you like the kid he had decided to take in.

He looked at you as his daughter.

————————————————————————————————————-

It wasn’t until the end of the next school year that the fans found out that Rob was your legal guardian, since the two of you had kept it severely secret for legal reasons; especially since the both of you had no idea where your biological parents were.

But your junior year had ended, and even with flying out of the country nearly every week for a TV show, taking most of your classes on a set or in your trailer by a tutor, you had made the honor roll for the first time, even made the dean’s list.

(And if you waited a few more weeks, the two of you would find out you had gotten a better than average score on both the SAT and ACT).

But Honors night had come around, and Rob, Rich, Kim, and Billy sat in attendance as the names were being called for students to get their certificates.

(You had gotten really close to the other three over the past two years, considering you and Rob’s work schedule, and the amount of times you stayed over at Billy’s house when Louden Swain rehearsals would run late.)

“Y/N Y/L/N.” said the dean, the four adults jumped up, cheering so loud that you couldn’t help but smile as you got on stage and accepted the certificate.

“I’m so proud of you!” said Rob. The four stood outside the auditorium, Rob immediately wrapping you in a hug the second you walked out.

“Thanks Rob.” you said, nearly emotional. Freshman year teachers were offering to put you in help classes, and you couldn’t believe yourself that you had made it to the dean list at all.

“Okay, okay. I gotta get a picture of the two of you.” said Kim, having already taken a pic of you and Rob when he had hugged you.

You and Rob laughed, not really caring at this point where the picture ended up. The twitter notification came up on your phone just a few moments later.

@kimrhodes4real:

Couldn’t be prouder of @Y/T/N. Just had to get the two of them together. *Image attached*

Fans were obviously confused on why Rob had been pointed out, but it wasn’t until Rob posted a picture later that night that it was officially let out in the world.

@RobBenedict:

When your kid makes the honor and dean’s list after workin her ass off all year, you take her out to any restaurant she wants :D @Y/T/N

*Image attached*

Rob didn’t know it, but you nearly called him Dad that night.

STORY TAGS: @thebookisbtr @emilywells19 @littleshone @a-banana-for-your-thoughts @pancake-pages @stationary-queen @bryannekenzie @alicat-life @winchestergirl-13 @melodyhiddleston @flamequeen12

ROB TAGS: @nerdyforyourbooks @madame-marilyn @tas898 @internationalmusicteacher @lizzy077 @natasha-cole

FOREVER TAGS: @laffytaffyhumor @hudine @fandom–0verdose @madame-marilyn @casgrl @nerdyforyourbooks @waywardswain @goldenolaf25 @88dragon06 @dont-hate-relate-pls @crowley-you-sinnamon-roll @i-dont-understand-that-url @b-northington @idk-fandom @bea789 @nanie5 @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @captain-amelia-bradley @a-michellerae-things

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #chuck Shirley #god #original female character #supernatural fanfic #fan fiction #fanfiction #fanfic #Rob Benedict #Rob Benedict x Reader #Rob Benedict fan fiction #Rob Benedict fanfiction #Rob Benedict Fanfic #supernatural one shot #one shot #oneshot #supernatural one shots #Louden Swain

90 notes · View notes