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toiletwipes · 3 years

Text

and i'd give up forever to touch you

extra chapter. all i can breathe is your life.

Summary: It's discount, disco Tuesday and you've decided to drag Wilbur along too!

~3.4k words. masterlist.

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he finds himself wrapped in one of your adventures, you being determined to find inspiration to keep writing music and living life the way you always loved. he didn't get any of it, but you were his friend, and he didn't mind all that much when it was you.

at the moment, you'd taken him out for a drive, refusing to tell him where you'd be going but beforehand you'd painted shapes onto both of your faces, with neon green and yellow and pink paint. diamond and hearts on yours, clubs and spades on his, not to mention the outfit you demanded he wear. demanded is a loose term, you merely gave him a look, puppy dog eyes, and he folded like a lawn chair.

the paint had dried and left his face feeling itchy but every time he raised a hand, you'd slap it down. "if i have to hold your hand, i will, don't test me, will." you had teased but you definitely felt your breath stutter at the thought, and he wasn't fairing that much better. holding hands?

much to his surprise, he found himself standing in a short line for roller skates, lights dim and people skating in a large rink. you had paid for the tickets and everything, insisting all he had to do was skate. how hard could it be?

for him, unnecessarily.

the moment he stood up with the skates tied to his feet, he could barely stand still, threatening to fall over in three different directions. his long legs have finally backfired on him from all the times he's mocked you for being shorter.

but you, you glided through the air, stopping by his side as you steady him, a little giggle in your breath. and he could see the outfit and the paint coming together. while everything else had dimmed, the paint and clothes glowed. and you didn't look so bad like this.

not to mention the skirt you chose for tonight, with shorts underneath of course, but it was hard to remind himself that you're just friends.

that you didn't wear it for him, why would you when you're just friends?

he whines inside of his head, so cruel, as you help him to the edge of the rink, holding onto the wall. most of the skaters stay close to the inside of the circle, lucky for you two as you guide him to the edge of it, feeling the breeze from everyone.

you cut slide backwards as you hold both of his hands and guide him through the motions. "just one foot in front of the other, like you're sweeping dirt behind your feet." you say, but as he tries to kick his feet, he trips himself and falls into you. you curse as you both tumble to the ground, wilbur's face shoved into your stomach and your knees wedged into his armpits.

"you okay?" you call over the music, ignoring the slight ache in your elbows and butt, patting his shoulder.

he lifts his head and is met with your face staring him down and all he can see is the paint and the whites in your eyes glowing. and he can't think, nothing processing. is that what a god looks like, he vaguely hears in the back of his mind.

"wilbur?"

without another second to think, he's scrambling off of you, as much as he can with the skates tied to his feet still, but he can see a slight impression from the paint, somehow, in your white shirt.

you don't notice, only snickering as you pull yourself to your feet and he just so happened to be looking up and oh fuck.

he can see up your fucking skirt.

and it doesn't matter that you're wearing shorts, because he's still fucking looking. until he covers his eyes and attempts to stand without any aide. god, he knew he was a pervert but shit. not that he could forget the sight when it's burnt in the inside of his eyelids.

"oh my god, you're so stupid," you laugh and tug on his arms, and drag him back to the wall, getting him to stand eventually.

he groans, leaning his forehead against the wall with both of his hands gripping the sides as tight as he can, "how am i supposed to skate if i can't even make it past the entrance? what was the point of bringing me?" he says, looking up at you as you survey the area, and you just shrug, a small smile playing at your lips.

"it was a discount tonight, figured you'd might enjoy learning," and you're tugging his arms again, looping one of your arms into his to help guide him. "and besides, you'll never learn if all you do is mope and whine about it!" and you press on his back and chest, getting him to stop slouching and telling him how to balance his weight the best way for him, before nudging him forward and watching his arms lock up, feet straight as they roll right towards the chairs lining the walls.

he falls to his knees when he reaches the chairs, and you don't hesitate in calling him dramatic, stopping right in front of him as he pulls himself to sit.

"i think-" he gulps down air like it's water, "i think i'll sit here for- for a minute." you try to pull him up but he shakes his head, insists that you get a headstart into skating, he'll probably figure it out after watching you do it anyways.

you skate away, only after he reassures you once more he's more than okay sitting for a moment.

and you make it look more than easy. you skate across the glossy floor like it was made of butter, weaving your way in and out of the crowd as if you had places to be. and in a brief moment with no one in front of you, you slow down, arms lowered to your side as you enjoy the chilled air, a smile growing as you begin to move your legs and arms again, doing two more laps before you come back to wilbur.

he doesn't have much to say.

"wow."

and he just accepts the punch to his shoulder, rubbing out the ache as you laugh.

"it's just practice, that's all it is."

"you probably practiced like a professional, knowing you." he teases, eyes flickering from the endless moving mass, glowing in the darkness and back to you.

"to be fair, my parents loved taking me here as a kid, didn't help that they knew the owners," you shrug, chest heaving a little bit as you spoke, your breath not yet even.

"that does help," he says, fingers pressing into his knees as he briefly wonders when this place will close. not that he's not having fun, it's just that he doesn't know how to skate at all. and maybe it doesn't help that skating comes to you like breathing does. "so what's-"

"-alright, skaters, it's time for the first special skate, the couples round, if all the single people could please safely exit the rink-"

"oh that's our cue," he says and as he stands you tell him to just hold onto your shoulders, you'll lead him out of the rink. but just as you get to the halfway point, you're singled out.

"to the strange couple, please refer to the default hand-holding, and not the conga, thank you,"

your brain short-circuits to the point where you miss the exit and, on accident, rejoin the circling mass of skaters. wilbur, who's right beside you, is panicking.

"y/n- i can't- i can't do this- i can't skate," and he's breathing too hard as his limbs begin to lock up, you shake out of your stupor and gently take his hand into your own and try to distract him, going from telling him you believe in him, telling him to just bend his knees and you'll guide him like before. then you offer something else up.

"if we get through this lap, we'll do anything you want and i can't say no," you tell him, and it's unbelievably hard to say anything but yes please get me out of there.

and all he can get out is a strained yes, quiet as anything over the music that reverberates through their chests, over the sound of the wheels against the floor.

but you guide him through it, slow and towards the outside of the rink, where most of the couples weren't, and its painful to watch him stiff as anything, barely holding himself together. but as the time passes, you find yourself back at the exit, and he doesn't hesitate to latch onto the closest free table and sit down. he's swallowing mouthfuls of air, maybe a little bit dramatic you humor to yourself, but for the most part he looks tired already.

you stand next to him, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair. "you did so good, wilbur, you made it," he doesn't say anything as he leans his head back as you work your fingers through small tangles. doesn't say anything as the praise burns at his groin, and hopes the dim lights and his physical exhaustion covers the fact that he might have a praise kink.

you lean down to whisper in his ear, "alright, we got through it, what would you like to do now?" and it takes a lot for him to hold back begs and whimpers, but he manages to say something along the lines of food.

you lead him back to your original table with your shoes sitting on top, you ask him if he wants to take the skates off and he doesn't even hesitate to pull them off as soon as he's sitting again. you have to laugh, but then his head rolls around his shoulders and looks at you with dark eyes and it catches in your throat.

eyes wide and mouth open, he knows that this view is dangerous, but keeps looking. though, you seem to pull yourself together and give yourself a thorough shake, your fingers, hands, arms, and torso wiggle in your seat. shaking off whatever it was that had you frozen.

"alright, come with me to get food?" you ask and he nods, standing up and finds that standing without a death machine strapped to his feet is much easier now. with the challenge gone, he starts to walk and then finds you latching onto his elbow with glowing, puppy dog eyes. "drag me?" you pout and he gives in, so easily, you wonder if he would ever say no to you.

your skates facing straight, he pulls you down the pathway between tables and finds himself at a bar area, you barely stopping from slamming into his sides, and he has to wrap an arm around you to settle you still.

you stay still alright, his arms warm from the exertion, and the slight sheen coating his skin makes you want to wring him out like a hand towel and at the same time, you want more than his arm around you.

but you're not toeing the lines of your relationship right now, you're fucking ordering food.

"what can i get for you today?" you skim over the menu above the employee's head, and will answers him curtly, you responding just as quick, handing over the right amount before waiting for the food itself by the edge of the bar.

you lean your knuckles into your cheek, breathing out a dramatic sigh to get wilbur's divided attention. he barely turns around at the sound of another sigh and by then, he's got an unimpressed look printed on his features.

"what is it going to take for you to loosen up? you move as if your bones are popsicle sticks held together by glue."

"you don't know my bones," is all he says before nodding to the employee handing him his chips and water, not even wasting a second before opening the bottle and drinking half of it to soothe the dry itch in his throat.

"you didn't answer my question, will," you inch closer to him to sing it in his ear, but he turns his face to look at you, instead of forward, and you're now nose-to-nose, so close together, just barely a breath's distance.

your breath hitches and he hears it, above everything else, he hears it and just barely closes his eyes and closes the distance. you don't move until you realize where you were again, and you're pushing on his shoulders, skating across the floor with the bag of pretzels and bottle of water in your hand. wilbur walks behind you confused, more along the lines of afraid of the car ride home where you inevitably stop talking to him and demand he never speak to you again. had he read all the signs wrong? did you hate him?

you yank the shoes off your feet, taking the pair and wilbur's to the front, pulling on your converse as you left the rink with him trailing behind you, feeling more than ever like he fucked up. he knows he fucked up in his life before but it never felt as big as this.

the sky is dark and feels unforgiving as you, but you're taking the drinks and snacks and throwing them into the back without him saying anything.

and then you're closing the door and looking at him with your hands still open, as if you're still holding something, and he's about to ask a question, ask if you're okay or something like that, when you yank on the collar of his shirt and press your lips against his firmly, leaning your back against your car, hidden away from potential onlookers.

he braces himself with both hands landing on either side of you, your mouth distracting him more than he'd ever thought. fucking hell, he thinks, your lips soft, warm, and he can't help but chase after yours when you pull away for a second. you're looking at him with half-lidded eyes, and then you're leaning into him, hands sliding up to cusp his face, before tucking your head under his jaw and lips attaching to his neck, sucking and biting and soothing the bites with long swipes of your tongue.

wilbur feels so warm- so hot as you continue to leave hickey after hickey, it feels too good and he grinds his hips against yours, feeling a moan bubble in his throat when a hand covers his mouth, "don't let them know what we're up to, mkay?"

he almost whines beneath your hand but you're right back to his neck, pleasure spiking up in his spine every time you bite down and every time your tongue flattens against every lovebite.

eventually, the sound of the doors constantly swinging open and closed grabs your attention than the trembling man under your hands and mouth, leaning back as you look at the mess you made of him.

"wanna head home now?" you whisper, reaching up to push his hair out of his face, pressing a small kiss to his jaw.

home. not your dorm, not his apartment, home.

he nods, barely holding it together as you lead him back to the passenger side, closing the door and heading towards the driver's, a little pep in your step. you nod at the other skaters leaving and they give a slight nod back, unbeknownst to the man you're slowly ruining that sits in your car.

getting in, you're faced with a mess. glancing at his neck, you reach back and down for something soft, pulling it up, you see it's your old jacket, something you had for years and… something to cover your friend in for now. "here, if you get cold, because i'm feeling hot." you hand it over to him, before turning the ac up all the way, cranking it to the maximum settings and feeling the bitter cold on your very warm skin.

it was an excuse, of course, but you weren't going to tell him that as you see him very quickly pull it over his head. had you gotten it in a size that fit you, it might not have fit his long torso, but oversized? perfect on him.

you don't see him pulling on the edge of the hoodie, breathing deeply as he could to take all of your scent in. something akin to weed and cinnamon. something home would smell like, he figures.

it takes twenty minutes before you reach the dorms, and it takes another minute before you're inside your designated one, finding rosie and jared curled into the sofa, jumping at every turn in the horror movie on the tv.

"we're back," you say, as you head into the kitchen and pull out another bottle of water, drinking it in as you're well aware of the eyes you have burning into your skin.

swallowing the last gulp, you throw away the empty bottle before looking the man in your hoodie in the eyes and seeing just the very edge of hickeys peek out from the collar. stepping close to him, you reach up to his face and grasp his chin fairly soft, pulling him down just enough to kiss him slow and deep. when you pull away, the dried paint is dripping slightly down his cheek. you swipe it away as his eyes stayed shut.

"we'll be in my room, call us if you need us," you say but they were too absolved in their scary movie, too busy to notice the man practically shaking under your touch.

leading him to your room, like the thousands of times before, and leading him to your bed like the thousands of times before, but this time you give the door a slight kick before it closes. this time you kiss him and let him press you into the bed, hands burning everywhere they touch on your skin.

the nerves in his body feels shot when you reach under the hoodie to press your cold fingers against his skin, pressing against his stomach and gasping into his mouth when he does the same, flicking your shirt up a little to dig his fingers into your hip.

pulling away to breathe, you slow down, your heart pounding against your chest as you come down from a high that you knew would become a problem later on. you lean your head back into a pillow as he slows down too, his sticky forehead against your bare shoulder.

"would-" your mouth sticks together but you push the words forward, "would you be okay if we went to sleep right now?"

you didn't want to ruin anything more than you already did. knowing yourself, you probably confused him. you knew he had feelings for rosie but damn it if you didn't try at least. now look at where it's got you.

you don't see him nod, only feeling the bed dip as he moves off of you and moving to lay down in front of you. he gives your arm a nudge and when you move it, he leans into you, curling into your side as he gives you no room to think. all you could think about was him.

breathing in his hair, you smelt the shampoo from before, the slight smell from the rink, and then the damp feeling of sweat stick to his hair.

yeah, you would need to shower again in the morning. and yeah, you'd probably need to talk about this again. but couldn't you at least enjoy the way he can't seem to leave you alone? Can't you relish in the fact that he wants to be near you and not her. letting you mark him up. you could enjoy it, if not for a second. for the moment, you could enjoy the feel of him grounding you.

as for him, he doesn't know how much luckier he can get. so as your breaths slow in between, he sticks his head into the crook of your neck, just breathing you in and relishing the close proximity he has once again.

he may not have gotten to bury himself inside you but this is fine all on its own, head feeling light from how close you are together.

he presses a kiss to your skin before letting himself sleep in your arms.

(you almost cry when you felt his lips against your collarbone. wondering if this is the modern version of torture and who's administering them from above.)

...

taglist: @fxnxtical @ghostburlovebot @ollie-overscore @roygbivvie @beehive-syst3m @boiled-onionrings @mayempress @bringm3th3n1rvana @yui-san0 @comonlokbut2 @lurkey-lurker @tiredofsatansbullshit @serendipityryn @facelessmatchstick @sewagespaghetti @dogsandrocketsocks @unhelpfulghosty @struggling-with-time

#c: simpbur #simpbur #simpbur x reader #simpbur x y/n #simpbur x you #au: college #simpbur smut #<- just incase

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finnyboywolfhard · 3 years

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Kiss It, Make It Better

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

summary: Y/N craves smoking with someone new, so who better than Steve Harrington.

A/N: this is based solely on the ‘it’s only marijuana’ line in season three bc i am in love with stoner!Steve

warnings: drugs <3, cursing, fluff

word count: 2.4k

Y/N and Dustin had the routine since Y/N got her license, that once a month they would have a sibling drive, in which they would drive around with the sole intent of getting caught up with one another. Given all the shit they had been through over the past few years, it naturally became their own special form of therapy. The Events of Starcourt on the Fourth of July and the days prior were once again weighing heavily on the two during their first drive since.

“What was it like being drugged?” Dustin asked, his curiosity weaving its way into his voice.

“Weird. It kinda felt like everything was the best thing ever, but it also came at the worst time. It was also weird that it was with Steve Harrington and Robin.”

“Is it like weed?”

“Is it like what?” Y/N knew the answer, it was no, but she had no idea why her little brother was deciding to ask her that in that exact moment.

“When you guys were drugged, I kept asking Steve if he did drugs, and he said that he only did marijuana. I wanted to know if they were comparable. So, is it like weed?”

“First off Dusty, you don’t ‘do’ marijuana, you smoke it. And secondly, I’m not answering that question, you can save that query for Steve.” Steve. Y/N had a lot of thoughts about him, it was interesting to hear about him from the rumors in high school in comparison to how she saw him act regularly. And ever since she started smoking to calm herself down, she has craved smoking with someone other than Robin, maybe Steve was worth a shot.

“Speaking of Steve, he said he might be over a lot over the next few nights while his parents are away, just so you know.”

“Oh? Is he coming tonight?”

“No, not tonight. He isn’t off work till 9 and mom doesn’t want him coming an hour before my dumbass bedtime— I still don’t get why she just NOW gave me a bedtime while you don’t even have a curfew.” Her brother started rambling, but all she could pay attention to was that he was going to be home alone tonight. Would it be that crazy of her to show up after all the trauma they had been through over the past 3 years?

“It’s because I’m legally an adult, so she’s treating me as such, and you’re just going into high school, she wants you to be safe. But okay, guess we’ll just have to see him soon.” The two drove around for a while longer before returning home. As the hours in between past, Y/N glanced towards her bookshelf, in which held a hidden stash of weed. She could always tell her mom she was just going to Robin’s, she would never try to prevent Y/N from seeing Robin.

She walked toward the bookshelf with soft footing, and with a gentle touch she plucked the hard covered book from the shelf. Inside lay two pre rolled joints she bought from her dealer and some bud Murray had snuck her after Hopper’s memorial. She snapped the book closed and tossed the book gently onto her bed. She put on a zip up hoodie and packed a fake sleepover bag. The books spine crackled gently as the cover was opened just enough for her to grab the pre-rolls out and into her pocket.

With backpack slung over her shoulders and her hands tucked securely in her pockets, Y/N strolled casually into the living room where her mother sat, as the minutes ticked quicker and quicker past 9:30–he was definitely home by now.

“Hey mom! Inhope you don’t mind but I’m gonna head over to Robin’s.”

“Oh! Did she call? I didn’t even hear the phone!”

“Oh no! She didn’t!” Y/N let in a gulp, she didn’t think this through. “She asked me a few days ago to come over tonight if I wanted to, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go until a little bit ago.”

“Ah, sounds like you, Do you wanna call her before you head over?” Claudia stood from her seat and began moving and motioning towards the phone.

“No!’ Y/N shrieked at her mother, who turned confusedly towards her. “Her mom goes to bed early and I told her that if I was gonna come it would be between 9 and 10, she assumes I’m coming, but I do really gotta get going.” Y/N glanced nervously at the clock, it was getting later and later and there comes a time where it’s a little uncomfortable to show up. Claudia glanced to the clock as well.

“Okay Y/N/N, you better get going.”

“Bye mom—“

“—Drive safe, be careful, I love you.”

“I love you too mom.” Y/N said as she practically ran to her car. She turned her car on and began the drive towards his house, not even thinking twice about where she was going until the car came to a park in his driveway.

“Shit!” Y/N yelled at herself. She yelled at herself for being weird and for showing up unannounced. She calmed herself down by saying, “who wouldn’t want someone showing up with free weed? Don’t overthink it.” She pulled in a complete, deep breath and walked hesitantly to the door. Three knocks sounded off the door, her breath fluttering ever so slightly as she let her hand fall to her side. Footsteps could be heard from the opposite side of the door, stepping closer and closer by the second. The doorknob turned and Y/N’s attention snapped up to meet the gaze of the boy at large.

“Hey Y/N, what’re you doing here?” Steve asked delightfully surprised. Her hand reached inside her pocket to pull one of the two joints. She lifted it from her pockets to where he could see it.

“Got a light?” She asked with a smirk.

After finding a lighter, the two made their way to his backyard. They sat parallel to one another in their chaise chairs. Y/N flicked the lighter a few times before sparking up the first joint of the night. She pulled a large huff in and held it as she passed the joint to Steve. He took in a long drag, holding the joint in front of him to inspect it after he hit it. A few seconds after Y/N had released her hit, Steve started coughing a bunch.

“Jesus Y/N, where the hell did you get this?” Steve said through the gasps for air.

“Good shit, huh?” Y/N joked as she inhaled another hit. The two fell into a rhythm of passing it back and forth as conversation allowed itself to flood the air.

“So what made you come here Y/N?” Steve pondered towards the girl.

“Dusty started asking me about when we were drugged, and apparently you told him you smoked weed. And, as much as I love Robin, I need someone new to smoke with, and you’re not AWFUL to hang out with.” Y/N explained, with sarcasm dripping from the last sentence.

“Wow, I feel so touched. Truly, I feel like the luckiest man alive. THE Y/N Henderson chose ME to smoke with. Best day of my life.” Steve rambled on, matching the sarcastic tone Y/N started with. The two laughed for a bit together, before Y/N spoke through the giggles.

“I am sorry for just showing up, I just didn’t know how to ask.”

“What? Am I that scary?”

“You’re THE King Steve, you’re the coolest, hottest guy at Hawkins. I was so intimidated by your male wiles. I am begging at your feet Steve Harrington.” Y/N mocked other girls she had witnessed in Hawkins. “No you’re not scary, I just couldn’t bring myself to say ‘Hey Steve, want to do some drugs with me?’ on our family phone, it didn’t feel right.” Steve let out a chuckle and a ‘fair enough’. It fell silent for a moment as the joint had its final hits taken from it.

“Why haven’t we hung out before? I mean away from all the traumatizing shit.” Steve asked slowly as he let himself sink down into the chair.

“Different friend groups before it all and then after and during it all, I didn’t and don’t want to impede on you and Dustin’s time. Plus neither of us have asked each other anyway.”

“That’s not true, I invited you to the movies that one day you stopped into scoops alone.”

“Yeah after I had already told you I was babysitting that night, you didn’t even ask to reschedule.”

“Yes I absolutely—didn’t. I didn’t.” Steve said, confidence dissipating. Y/N couldn’t help but focus to each small feature of his face one by one. Sure, she had looked at him but she never looked at him. He really was beautiful.

Jokes and stories were told between the two, laughter and exaggerated stories filled the bubble they put themselves in. In those moments, there was no one else in the world but Steve and Y/N.

“And that’s how Mike Wheeler broke his finger in our backyard.” Y/N let out through a fit of giggles. Steve clutched his stomach as he let himself fall back into the chair from the gut busting laughter Y/N had sent him into. As he got more comfortable, he glanced down at his watch. His eyes bulged at the time.

“Holy shit.” He said flustered, eyes never leaving the watch face.

“What? What time is it?”

“It’s almost 2 A.M.”

“Oh damn…” Y/N said, a dangerously fun smile finding its way to her face. Her hand reached towards the second joint in her pocket. “So this would be of no interest to you?” Steve’s squinted eyes opened just a peep. He let out a long whine.

“I think I’m too high to even move…but that looks so good.” Y/N looked between him and the joint. She noticed space for her to sit on the edge of his chair, and placed herself there. She placed the joint between her lips and gave it a light, waiting for the rolling paper burn down to the weed. From between her lips, she pulled the joint between her fingers and held it gently up to his. He took in a pull, never once releasing eye contact. With each consecutive hit, the distance between them drew closer and closer, eventually leaving their faces merely inches apart. Her fingers were so far back on the joint, they grazed his lips as he took in one of the final hits. Her fingers tingled from his touch. She glanced towards his eyes, his meeting hers already. The air around them went still and quiet. Their eyes were locked on each other, contact never wavering as their bodies moved towards one another like a magnet. His eyes stayed put on hers as his voice fell in the air.

“Give me one more.” Her hand lifted lightly and placed itself at his lips once more. The joint glowed a bright red as he inhaled the smoke. Y/N was so enraptured by his beauty, she didn’t notice the joint burning down to a nub. She watched as a cloud of smoke was blown from his lips and into the sky, before the heat had finally reached her touch.

“Son of a bitch!” She exclaimed as she dropped the roach to the ground. She lifted her fingers to her mouth, attempting to ease the burning feeling. The burn wasn’t bad, just a little redness but it didn’t hurt any less.

“Hey, let me see it.” Steve’s tone was much gentler now as he lifted her hand into his own. He raised her gently by her wrist to examine the burnt fingers. He delicately placed the burnt fingers to his lips and gave them a tiny little kiss.

“Kiss it, make it better.” He whispered, just barely audible to her ears. That’s what was so shocking about Steve, his heart was so filled with love and care. He did his best to make everyone feel protected, even if his popular guy persona overshadowed it at times.

“How are you so perfect?” Her voice came out quietly. Slowly, he lifted his head to look at her once more and without much thought, he closed the distance. The kiss was gentle and loving, but clearly stoked by passion. His lips upturned into a smile. She leaned back and traced her fingers across her lips. Just to make sure she didn’t imagine it, she pulled the boy towards her by the collar and planted one more kiss on him—and she noted that he kissed back with the same fervor.

“I have a crush on you Steve Harrington.” She said, hiding her blushing face from the boy. He turned her face towards him as he confessed,

“I’ve had a crush on you for like 3 months.”

“You have?”

“Yeah.” He said, his thumb gently grazing her cheek.

“Why?”

“Dustin talks about you enough, and I—uh I remembered all the times you’ve kicked ass over the past few years and it just kinda…happened. Who wouldn’t want someone as smart, badass, and beautiful as you?” He rambled our haphazardly, a blush forming across his cheeks as well.

“Steve…”

“Oh god, that was embarrassing, am I blushing? I feel like I’m blushing. fuck me.” Steve started rambling.

“Hey! It’s not embarrassing, it’s cute.” Y/N explained, but it didn’t seem to help. An idea flashed in her mind. “Oh no! You are so embarrassing, I am embarrassed. Ew, guess I

I’ll just have to close my eyes! I hope that embarrassing Steve Harrington doesn’t kiss me!” The sarcastic tone from earlier returning once more. A chuckle bubbled past Steve’s lips. He once more laid one on her, this time—a little bit more passionate than the past.

Y/N nuzzled herself into Steve’s side on the small beach chair they were on. The air sat comfortably still in that moment, the two reeling from the overwhelming emotions they had just felt. Quiet giggles pierce the air as Y/N studies her fingers.

“It worked.” She said matter of factly.

“What worked?”

“After you kissed it, I haven’t thought about it since. You made it better.” Y/N spoke melodically. Steve planted a kiss to the top of her head and pulled her closer in to him.

“Kiss it, make it better.” He repeated once more.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n

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dr3amofagame · 3 years

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hey pspsps i found this thing n twitter and i cant get it out of my head,, so dreams escape right? and sapnap said that he'd be the one who'd take dreams last life rgiht? so imagine if he gets ant, bad and george and tells them "its the final manhunt" (:

im ngl the name of this on my document was “the final manhunt *offkey kazoo*”

with that, have some good ol’ post-prison c!dream angst! probably not exactly what you asked for, but i hope you like it anyway :D

tw: implied torture, abuse, dark portrayals of c!sam and c!quackity, suicide/suicide implications, panic attacks, emotional distress, emotional instability, death threats, violence, flashbacks, pandora’s vault/prison arc

When Dream escapes the prison, he is a frothing thing of spite and rage, one part human and ninety-nine parts determination simmered and condensed over high heat; there is anger and then there’s this, the fire that leaps to his eyes and the shaking shreds of a battered heart he holds close to his chest and refuses to let anyone close enough to see. He moves and the server moves with him, tugged along by his iron will and sweat-slick desperation, joining in the brilliant blue whirl of a diamond axe swung recklessly and slammed into the dirt, an aimless fury following each formless drive of the blade into grass and gravel. The air sings danger and the air sings wrong and every step closer brings a ringing scream of away away go away that dances like static electricity against their skin.

Puffy follows, cutlass strapped to her hip and hair tucked messily beneath the rim of her cornet as the group advances - someone had alerted over comms about seeing the escaped prisoner in this direction, and they’d all jumped forward in the hopes that the weeks-long manhunt could finally be ended. Sapnap leads the way, headband whipping behind him as he strides forward, jaw clenched in fierce determination; George brings up the rear, bow in hand, a full quiver of arrows strapped to his back. Puffy’s running alongside Sam, who has been strangely tight-lipped the entire time Dream has been gone, firm in his insistence that the prisoner be detained but saying little else - it’s something that she would pry at, usually, but her head is filled with half-formed regrets and fears and a bubbling undercurrent of anger she’s afraid will come loose if she opens her mouth, so she stays silent as they run ever forward.

Sapnap yells, and her head snaps up - there, in the tall grass of a plains biome lies a flash of orange that must be Dream. The hunters around her speed up and she strains to follow; the other three are clearly experienced, easily falling into step with each other as she scrambles to keep up. Dream’s head snaps over towards them and he begins to sprint, cutting a line through the yellow field as they race to follow. She’s not seen him since the prison break, has only heard the whispers- an orange clothed monster, all bones and skin and uncaged fury, a diamond axe heaved in his arms slamming against anything that comes too close. It’s hard to rationalize this untamed, unrefined dash to the unwavering calm that she had always associated with his style of fighting, his movements much more like the life-or-death escape of a hunted rabbit than any hunter’s dog. It’s hard to rationalize this Dream with the one she knows- but well, she’s gotten used to that.

It took her far too long to admit, but she’s come to realize that she doesn’t quite know Dream at all.

He leads them forward to the shorter grass and harsher dips and planes of a savannah, the sun beating down in slanting heat against the backs of their necks. The ground they’re standing on begins to shatter into steep cliffs and jagged mountains, rough edges of stone climbing into the sky all around them. Sapnap curses, shading his eyes against the sun.

“He’s going up there,” he says, and George sends arrows flying towards the orange dot blurring across the steep face of a nearby mountain. Sam grumbles as Puffy strains to catch sight of him, watching his scrambling movements up the cliff face to the top.

“Then we follow,” he says, pulling a stack of ender pearls from his inventory. “Each person take a few. We’re too close to lose him now.”

The climb is anything but pleasant, the sun right overhead and making sweat gather at her hairline and drip down her face. Even as a sheep hybrid, she struggles to keep pace with the other hunters as they race over thin paths of granite and clamber up near-vertical faces of stone with little problem, clearly practiced as they follow Dream without breaking their sprint. The rock gives way to dirt and tufts of short-shorn grass and Sapnap’s eyes flash.

“Be careful,” he says, looking straight at her. “He’s cornered - that’s when he does risky shit without thinking about the consequences. He knows you’re the least experienced here and there’s a good chance that he’s going to charge you. If that happens, hold your shield and just block. We’ll handle him from there.”

She swallows back the spark of indignation that rises at his words, a bitter scream that they only see her as a liability dying out as she reminds herself that these three had hunted Dream professionally before, had struggled even with two more at their sides. The caution is far from unwarranted.

“I understand.”

Sapnap nods tersely and looks to the other two with a hand movement that she doesn’t understand. The other two immediately start moving, Sam moving to the front, George nocking an arrow as he takes his place at the rear - they’re still shielding her, she realizes with a small spike of annoyance again, shaking her head and drawing her own cutlass as Sapnap leads the way for them to swing up onto the top of the mountain.

It takes her a moment to adjust; the wind, unhindered by the cliffs that had been shielding them seconds before, whips at her face and draws tears to her eyes, makes her hair fly wildly into her face. Through narrowed eyes, she watches as the figure on the other side of the mountaintop scrambles backwards, diamond axe braced in front of him as he backs to the opposite edge.

“Dream,” Sapnap calls, voice deadly calm. “You’re cornered. Stand down.”

Dream shakes his head, lips curling in a wordless snarl. The sound is desperate, almost inhuman, making Puffy’s hair stand on end. As her vision clears, she stops dead in her tracks despite herself - Dream looks awful. She’d expected him to look disheveled after his escape, hadn’t expected much comfort in his stay in the Vault, but the way he looks, now, hollow eyes and gaunt cheeks and skinny, shaking limbs that only barely seem to be able to hold up his weight, bandages covering every visible inch of skin, wrapped messily around his right arm as if done by one hand - she reaches forward unconsciously and Dream flinches back.

“Don’t-” his voice rasps, cracks, falls in on itself as he wets his lips to try and speak again. “Don’t come closer.”

“Prisoner,” Sam growls, stepping forward, and he turns those wild, fever-bright eyes towards the creeper hybrid, flailing backwards and knuckles white from the grip on his axe. His breathing visibly hitches, head whipping back and forth.

“Don’t come closer,” he hisses again, stepping back, and Puffy stills.

“Sam-” she grabs his sleeve. “Sam- don’t. He’s at the edge.”

Dream’s gaze swings to her, and her heart stutters at the uncaged, obvious fear raging in his eyes. He’s backed to the very back edge of the mountain they’re standing on, left foot halfway off, sending dirt skidding over and off of the cliff down down down to the ground hundreds of feet below. The three hunters stop, muscles tensed, and Dream bares his teeth at them but doesn’t back away further.

His shoulders sag as they stand, stagnant, each huddled on their own side of the mountaintop. His gaze is venomous, green eyes burning even in the glaring light of the sun, flicking warily between their faces as he holds the axe between them.

“So you came,” his voice is tight, a slight tremble pulling at the end despite his seeming bravado. “Here to finish the job, huh?”

Sapnap pulls back his shoulders. “I made a promise, Dream.”

Dream laughs, bitter. His left hand releases on the axe handle to come to his chest, grabbing at his right, looking almost like he’s trying to hold himself. His laughter tapers off into something weak and wrecked, and the sound makes Puffy’s heart clench uncomfortably in her chest.

“Figures you’d keep that one,” his head tips up, looking Sapnap in the eye. “What- did your fiance give up? The revive book not worth the effort anymore?”

Sapnap hisses. “Don’t bring Karl into this-”

“Karl?” Dream’s eyes flash, grip tightening on his upper arm. “No- what? Why-”

“Dream.” Sam’s voice is low, something dark buzzing behind his tone, “Don’t-”

Puffy interrupts him with a hand to his shoulder, stepping forward and freezing mid-step when Dream’s head whips to her, eyes widening and foot scraping against the edge of the cliff again.

“Sapnap, Sam, let him talk,” she levels her gaze at Dream, trying to pick out the emotions warring behind those brilliant green eyes. “Not Karl- you’re talking about Quackity then, right?”

Sam hisses, “Puffy, I don’t think this is a good idea-”

Dream laughs.

The sound is grating, awful, making her hands come to her ears. It rips through skin, wraps around bone, seeps into marrow - he’s laughing, axe disappearing into his inventory so he can clutch his face with both hands, the loose sleeves of his prison uniform falling to his elbows to reveal the bandages wrapping all the way up his forearms and disappearing further under the fabric. In front of her, Sapnap falters, grip on his sword loosening; George steps back, eyebrows wrinkled, bow lowering. Dream laughs like the world is ending, and some cold, hardened thing in her chest shatters at the sound.

“You know,” his hands claw at his hair, wrapping around the strands and pulling, “You know you know you know- you have to know. How-” He shakes his head, tugging at his hair harshly and making Puffy wince at the sight, “Don’t- don’t play stupid here.”

“Know what?” George reaches forward, hands empty, palms up like he’s approaching an injured dog. From the way Dream snaps at the sound, hackles raised and teeth bared, he might as well be one. “Dream, what are you talking about?”

Sapnap looks stricken, still, face clouded in a way that Puffy can’t decipher. “Q- don’t play your mind games here, Dream,” despite his words, he sounds uncertain. Puffy hasn’t seen Quackity around for a while, had thought that he was staying at Sapnap and Karl’s new place. From the way Sapnap’s eyes have darkened, it looks like she assumed wrong. “Quackity hasn’t even been around, what does he have to do with any of this?”

Dream shakes his head again, seemingly stuck in his own head, barely even responding to their words. “You know- you know you know you know- Sam knows- you-” His breath hitches, chest heaving, and Puffy blinks. He’s having a panic attack, a clinical, much more calm part of her says as Dream seems to collapse in on himself. “You know. You have to know he wouldn’t- nobody came if you didn’t know then why didn’t you come if you didn’t know then why did Sam let him in you know you know you know-”

“Sam?” George turns to Sam, hands curling into fists and then uncurling again and again, “Do you know what he’s talking about?”

Sam’s expression is unreadable, ignoring George as he looks back at Dream. “Prisoner,” and has he called him by his name, yet? “Come with us calmly and your punishment will be lightened. There’s nowhere to run. Give up.”

Dream keens, a high-pitched whine exiting his lungs, “I won’t- I won’t tell,” his voice cracks, tears clearly running down his cheeks, “I won’t tell you Quackity I won’t-”

“Sam,” Puffy turns to the hybrid. “I think you should go.”

“Puffy-”

“He’s having a panic attack, Sam. He’s hardly going to do anything.” She levels a glare at him, sheathing her cutlass at her side. “I’m perfectly capable of defending myself, and I’ve promised to help anyone having a mental health crisis on the server.” Something dark and traitorous whispers how she’d given up on Dream before, and she pushes it down.

“He’s a danger to everyone on the server.”

“Sam- he’s not fucking breathing right now on the edge of a cliff. He’s not a danger to anyone but himself.”

“She’s right, Sam,” Puffy’s head snaps to George. He’s looking at her, expression hidden behind his glasses, lips pressed together in a small frown. “Puffy, we’ll be waiting. You or Sapnap call if you need back-up.”

She nods tersely, watches as Sam gives in and follows George down the mountain, the hybrid’s red eyes still staring at Dream as he leaves. Sapnap seems distracted, hardly acknowledging their exchange with his eyes fixed on Dream’s crumpled form, emotions clearly warring over his face, and Puffy brushes past him to get to her patient- Dream.

“Dream,” she speaks, not moving forward when his shoulders seize. “Dream, I won’t move closer unless you want me to,” she enunciates the words clearly, watching his face for any flash of recognition or understanding. He shakes his head minutely at her words, arms trembling, but he doesn’t move closer to the edge. “Can you hear me?”

He nods jerkily, and she smooths the palms of her hands on her pants, trying to calm the race of her heart in her chest.

“Good, very good,” years of training, habit, flood her head, pushing away the buzzing unease and fear and tangled knot of dark feelings that linger every time she sees Dream’s face, “I need you to breathe for me, okay? We’re going to inhale for four- there you go,” she counts, watching the shuddering movement of his chest as he struggles to replicate her movements, “Very good, hold for four, there you go- you’ve got this-”

Slowly, painfully, the rattle of his lungs in his chest becomes something quieter, more manageable, no longer rising and falling in desperate arrhythmic wheezes that make her chest hurt in sympathy. She’s still kneeling there, hands palms-up when he looks up at her, eyes wide, a degree of lucidity having returned to them, and for a moment a flash of fear stabs through her heart.

She swallows it down, pulling forward every ounce of professionalism she can muster. “Dream,” she keeps her voice low and soft, biting her lip at the way he freezes, again, at the call of his name. “Dream, can you step away from the edge?”

His hands clutch at the line of grass and dirt that make up the sod overhang, knuckles white. His eyes keep staring in hers, wide and wet and green, and she shushes him softly under her breath.

“It’s ok, take your time,” she breathes, watching as his hand inches forward bit by bit, gaze still fixed on her face, “It’s okay, Duckling.”

She blinks, and there’s a whirl of orange flying towards her chest; Sapnap shouts behind her, and panic blooms in her head too quickly for her to pick out anything but a desperate little oh god I’m going to die-

The blow never comes.

Instead, she looks down, heart in her throat, at a sobbing, shaking lump pressed against her chest, head buried in the crook over her neck as dirty, tangled hair falls in waves over her shoulder. She freezes, watching as his shoulders shake, hands tangled in her shirt sleeve, barely able to hear the words he’s saying over his wails and her heart thudding in her ears.

“Please don’t bring me back,” he pleads, voice cracking, “Please- please I don’t wanna go back please tell Sapnap to make it quick please I can’t go through another Quackity visit please Puffy don’t let them send me back-”

“Dream-”

“I’ll- I won’t fight, I pr’mise, Sapnap can keep his promise it’s okay I won’t fight anymore I’m-” he keens, high-pitched and mangled, into her shoulder, “I’m so tired Puffy.”

“Duckling,”

“Don’ make me go back, please.”

Puffy pulls him back, presses her hand on his cheek, murmuring softly. And- maybe she shouldn’t be doing this, maybe Dream’s a danger just like Sam said, maybe she’ll come to regret helping him the same way she had before - but right now he’s in pain and he’s crying and he’s closer than he’s been in so, so long and all she can see is her duckling, hurting, her duckling, home.

“Dream,” she brushes her thumb against his cheek, smooths a lock of hair behind his ear. “What happened in there?”

And he begins to speak.

#tw torture #tw abuse #c!quackity critical #c!sam critical #not really for either but they are portrayed dark #tw suicide #tw suicidal thoughts #tw panic attack #tw emotional distress #tw emotional instability #tw death threats #tw violence #tw flashbacks #long post #my writing :D #my asks !!

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slashingdisneypasta · 3 years

Text

Jack Bass x Younger!Reader || Oneshot

Title: Bass's.

Notes:

I have no idea when this is supposed to be set. Just go with it.

I have two things to say about Jack in this gif, though. 1. Does he not know how to carry a tray. And 2. I love this statement, here. Its like 'Bart's Dead, Chuck. I can barely contain my joy, Chuck. Its taking all my willpower, Chuck, to keep a monotonous expression. Also Chuck I am carrying a tray, do you see this?'

Plot: Bart Bass decides to be his creepy fucking self (Not that Jack is exponentially better in any way but whatever) towards you, Chuck's best friend- but thankfully, Jack accidentally walks in on the scene and gives you a get out of jail free card.

Good old 'lesser of two evils' shit. I love stuff like that.

Warnings: BART BASS being predatory, and a bit of age difference (You and Jack. I'm going by actors ages though so there's only a, like, 11 year age gap between him and Chuck which is not that bad if you ask me). Sexual references.

~~~

Chuck looks from his phone, that's flashing Blairs name, to you and your big, wide eyes and lips mouthing 'Don't you dare', then to his father quietly tapping away on his phone on the couch a few feet away... then back at his phone.

"Charles- " You hiss, prepared to threaten his very existence but he cuts you off first- slipping off the bar stool beside you and heading for the hallway.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom."

Why am I friends with him again!? You think, but stay quiet and hope that Bart doesn't realise that you're back there despite having said hello to you earlier when he came in. You think, if you stay quiet like a mouse, he will forget your existence and keep texting until Chuck gets back- although, who knows how long he and Blair can go on for.

Depends what its about, honestly. If its about revenge or espionage... well, the conversation could last quite some time.

Should I just leave?

The impulse to run away is a strong one, as you sit there with your cheeks heating up and you start to feel nauseated. You never liked Bart Bass, from the moment you met him. Before that, actually. You had heard Chuck talking about him to Nate before you even became friends with them, and none of what you heard was good. And then you did meet him, one day when Chuck invited you over to do a school project. Or 'school project' as he so obnoxiously put it. You really did end up just doing a school project, though. Hence your friendship nowadays. Bart was creepy towards you even then, at 16 with terribly died hair and the wrong eyeshadow.

You've been very careful since then to never be alone with him like this. You would talk to him at parties if you were forced to, say hello to him when Chuck had you at his place and the man walked by, but that is the extent of your communication with the creep. Always, always, someone would be around. Chuck, mostly. But also staff, or Nate, or random fundraiser ladies, or Jack who Chuck the bastard never left alone with all willy-nilly like this, unfortunately, or Lily, or literally anyone else possible on the earth.

You've even hidden away in the men's bathroom, which is disgusting no matter how expensive the restaurant, with Nate before to get away from this man when Chuck once ditched you both at a dinner with him. And that's the story of how you got your first kiss, too, and it was from Nate Archibald. Hell yes.

That's how much this man makes you want to grab your bag and flee.

But you don't. You stay glued to your seat, super still, listening only to the tap-tap-tapping noises that Bart makes and the bump-bump-bump noises your heart is making right into your throbbing ears.

Until it stops.

Not the bump-bump-bumping, oh no. The tapping. And, nightmarishly, it's replaced by a groan and footsteps coming towards your turned back.

"Y/N," As soon as he says your name, his hands fall on your your shoulders and you literally jump under his touch. Shit- Shit- Fuck- what's happening- "I've been meaning to speak with you recently but Chuck- ah. Well you know him. He refused to share with me your telephone number. But I knew you'd turn up here at some point, so not to worry."

"Uh... right." You cant even force yourself to be your normal, cheery, polite self in this position. You just want him to get. off. of. you.

"Did you want a drink?" He asks, in that possibly cheery (But only because its slightly louder then his usual husk level) but mostly still scary voice he uses to convey emotion, letting go of you thankfully and rounding to the other side of the bar. You shake your head, though. He raises his brows, picking out a scotch for himself. "You don't drink? Shocking, seeing as you're friends with my son."

Oh I drink. You think, giving him a shrug. Just not in situations like this one. Also, what must he think of Chuck? Jesus Christ. For sure, your boy likes debauchery but what's wrong with that?

"Well, I like that." Bart pauses before pouring his drink, to appreciate you. "Mature."

Damn it. It makes your skin absolutely crawl.

"So... " You take a deep breath, tucking your hair back behind your ears rather then ruffling it back like you usually would to get it out of your face- lest that be recognised as some kind of extremely subtle form of flirting. God, fear makes you think weird things. "What did you want to discuss?"

"Oh- Just, your future. Where are you going to school? Will you be sticking close to us?"

Us? US? No, I'll be far far away, from you.

You don't really want to tell Bart where you're going to be going to school, because in your fear addled brain you know that that will just lead to 'Which campus?', or 'Where will you be staying?' and you really don't want it to go there.

You're just taking another, shakier deep breath, when the front door of the apartment opens and shuts loudly and set of feet trample down the hallway towards you. Immediately total relief plashes over you and you wipe your face. Oh, thank god.

Jack Bass appears in the doorway to the living room, looking as put-together yet somehow simultaneously still totally relaxed, as always, and forces aa polite smile onto his handsome face. "Brother. Y/N? Its good to see you."

You have no idea. "Good to see you too Jack. Uh- Chuck's in the bathroom."

"Thanks. For that... enlightening, information, Y/N. I needed that." You cheeks flare up in embarrassment, but ultimately you just roll your eyes as Jack flashes you a subtle wink, and turns promptly to his - much, - older brother. "Bart."

The older brother in question looks less then pleased at his baby brothers appearance in his home. Right now. And he possibly isn't thrilled about that little wink, either. Like you two are in on some kind of joke together. "Jack... What are you doing here?"

"Simmer down, bro. Just visiting." Even you know that that excuse is weak, but anything that comes out Jack's own monotonous voice right now is blessed where you're concerned so you certainly don't say anything. Or make any faces, which would be more appropriate. "Y/N, I don't think Bart-man here's too happy about my presence." Hm, no. You'd have to agree with that observation- not that you've looked up at Bart since Jack came in. You wont risk it. Jack glides through the room with the practised grace of a man who's lived 3 quarters of his life in suits and the other, happier quarter in board shorts, and ends up right next to your chair, an arm resting on the bench in front of you.

If you weren't already so nervous about Bart, you would blush about Jack.

"At least tell me you're glad to see me."

You grin, which is less forced then you thought it would be prior to trying it. Damn, he's good. You think, realising he just swepped in here and made you comfortable in less then 50 words. "Always, 'Uncle Jack'."

"Oh," He groans, like it physically pained him to hear you tease him like that. A tiny smirk even slips through his usually emotionless - well, not emotionless. He has one standing colour, that being sly, - stone statue of a face. "'Uncle Jack'- Please, stop. I'm barely a decade older then you."

That's enough to make anything else possible, inappropriate. Unfortunately. "Hey, I said I'm glad to see you." You wink, a bit sly yourself. "Count your blessings."

His grin widens a bit, like the dangerously charming Cheshire cat-type that he is. Genes that Chuck inherited, clearly, if his track record with girls say anything at all, but that Bart obviously missed out on. "You've got a point."

"She's a remarkable young woman." Bart pipes up, making your stomach tie itself up in knots again, and you immediately revert your gaze to your lap. Remarkable young woman... you want to barf. "Who, I was actually having a conversation with before you burst in here, unannounced." He takes a slow sip of his drink, then mutters. "And uninvited."

"Well that's great." Jack straightens up, clapping his hands together and finally showing his teeth in a smile. They're really freaken white, compared to his skin, deeply tanned by the hot Australian sun. "A visit would be kinda uncomfortable without a conversation; I'll join. I can converse with the best of 'em, Bart. I assure you."

"It was private." The old man sneers, thinking that he's got the upper hand on Jack, and all you can do is hope to god that he's wrong.

Jack turns his head back to look at you, and you meet his gaze tentatively. Your eyes scream, 'Please don't leave me alone with that guy'. He promptly looks back to Bart. "Well Bart why don't we ask the lady in the room what she wants? We are gentlemen here aren't we?" Then Jack makes a face, all crumpled up and unsure, for a moment. "Err. Well actually... 'gentleman' might be a bold faced lie. We'll ask anyway. Y/N! Do you mind if I weigh in here?"

"Not at all." You say quickly, flashing a tiny, thankful smile. He gives you another wink- this time actually subtle. So Bart didn't see it. Your smile gets a little bit bigger, relaxing. He's got you.

"Great." You watch him pull out the stool beside you, that Chuck - who has still not returned from his phone call with Blair. You assume some, likely cruel vengeance must be involved. Possibly involving that Humphrey guy, - had vacated and settles down in it. He then sets his arms firmly on the bench and looks up attentively at Bart, not breaking eye contact with him. Boy these Bass's like their stare downs. "So?" He prompts, expectantly. And a little arrogantly- a Bass speciality that you truly don't mind at all. "What's on the agenda, today?"

Bart glares heatedly, back.

Throughout the awkward discussion between the three of you, which your good friend Chuck has yet to return to discover - at this point you're resigned to him having climbed out the window and scaled the building probably, - , Jack constantly, skilfully changes the subject for you whenever Bart rears to close to somewhere uncomfortable. He makes jokes that make you laugh, he nudges you with his elbow at times - but never touches you any more then that, although you honestly wouldn't mind it if he did, - and takes the attention off you a lot. At times you truly thought you saw steam come out of Bart's ears.

When finally Bart gives up and excuses himself, saying he as an early dinner with Lily, you feel exhausted and relieved. After the door swings shut behind him, you cover your face with your hands and deeply sigh.

"So, what was that about? You looked like a trapped mouse. I recognise that look, I invented that look." You pull back slightly from your hands and glance over at him, to see him thoughtful for a moment. "Well, not by making it. By... causing... it... Either way, it was not good." He shakes his head, taking a sip of his own drink - scotch, - that he made Bart pour for him; Raising his eyebrows at you for an explanation over the rim of the glass.

Jack's always been great, like this. Even when he was horrible, he was the lesser of two evils between him and Bart. Good for a laugh and quality eye candy in a pinch- and that counts for a hell of a lot when it comes to surviving Bart Bass and the Upper East Side. And he had the power and pull of an adult, but knew what the hell was going on like one of you.

So he always made you feel at ease.

You ruffle your hair back, and sigh, straightening your back finally from their hunched over position they live in when you're uncomfortable and pushing back your shoulders. "He was just, saying some weird stuff... and Chuck disappeared to talk to Blair." At that, Jack nods in total understanding. Like ah, yeah. Got ya. Finally, you shrug. "He just makes me really uncomfortable. No offence, but I hate your brother."

As you watch Jack's eyes don't even flicker; He's totally on board with what you've said. Then he finishes the rest of his scotch in one gulp. "Ahh- I hate him too."

"As do we all." Chuck's voice suddenly pops up, as he appears in the doorway like Jack had earlier. You have to practice some serious self control so as to not laugh, at Chuck so coincidentally turning up again at the perfect moment to proclaim his hatred for his father. Jack grins back at Chuck coldly, nodding. Yeah. "Anyway, Y/N, I apologise but I'll be having to abandon you. Blair's waiting for me at her, empty, apartment." He pauses for a moment for dramatic effect, in perfect Chuck Bass fashion, and you roll your eyes, grinning. Jack smirks. "But you're welcome to stick around a while and help yourself to the amenities All on my tab, of course. Good to see you again, Jack." Then he pockets his phone and heads toward the door. The second Bass of the day leaves the building.

"Bye, nephew!" Jack waives as the elevator doors close behind Chuck then swiftly turns around back to you, to which you raise your eyebrows. "So, what do we do now?"

"I dunno." Shrugging you grin and turn your stool to angle your legs towards Jack. "When Chuck says those magical words 'All on my tab'," Those words, oh; You speak them with just as much raw, breathy sexual arousal as the man himself would. As the words demand. 'All on my tab'. Good lord, sex if they were words. "I tend to take advantage."

"An easy girl to please; That's what I like to see." Your cheeks flame up at those words out of Jack's mouth as he turns to look down at the room service menu. Yes, Jack Bass has toed the line, between platonic and flirtatious since the very moment you met the man... but that seemed a little bit more then toeing the line.

And you get a far different reaction to him doing it then you do the other Bass brother.

You don't even really mind the implications of his words.

"You're staying back with me?" You ask, feeling hopeful at the idea.

"Yeah well, I cant in, uh, good conscience," He makes a bit of a show to you, of pressing his hand to his chest totally earnestly as those words 'good conscience' come out of his mouth. "leave you here unguarded in case Bart comes back, can I? Besides, the way you said 'All on my tab'- man, you could sell moonshine at an AA meeting with that voice."

"Ha," You laugh, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. "Well, thanks."

"Oh. Don't thank me. You're just using what uh, your mama gave you. I actually encourage you totally, to do that more often- "

"No!" You exclaim, sighing in exasperation; But there is still a smile on your face you cant seem to shake. "For not leaving, today. When you walked in. It would've sucked if you had, not that I would've blamed you at all."

"Hey, just call me your knight in shining armour." He doesn't look up from the menu, flicking through it. Then turns to you with one of those beach boy/politician, toothless grins of his. "Besides you were automatically, my favourite person in the apartment. I mean, anyone with... uhhh- different, appendages to what I have, instantly gets a one-way ticket access to my rare bouts of chivalry. Now come over here, pick out what you want off here."

You just gape at him and that comment, making him stifle a laugh and return to the menu himself.

Bass's.

#Jack Bass #Jack Bass x Reader #Gossip Girl Jack Bass x Reader #Jack bass x Reader Oneshot #Bart Bass #Chuck Bass #Oneshot #Gossip Girl #Gossip Girl x Reader

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babbushka · 3 years

Text

Biting Dust - Ch. 5

Life ain’t too easy for a woman, ‘specially not a woman on the run like you. With a bounty on your head and gunpowder in your nose, you’ve grown adjusted to a life of solitude away from the hustle and bustle of civilization. That is, until you meet one particular man who’s got a face you’d only ever seen in your dreams – or on wanted posters. And when he offers you a proposition that sounds too good to be true, well. You don’t think your life will ever be the same again…

Outlaw!Kylo Ren x Reader

Tumblr Masterlist | Available on AO3

6k; Warnings: Attempted assault, attempted murder

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Red clouds of earth kick up behind your horse’s hooves as they gallop far past the town line, hootin’ and hollerin’ all the while. The wind whips your hair around, your bonnet flung right off your head, held onto your person only by the wide ribbon that’s kept it tied ‘round your throat. Adrenaline pumps through your body, makes your vision spotty, makes your heart beat fast fast fast, ridin’ like lightning away from Ragrock.

Kylo’s right beside you, makin’ just as much damn noise as you, his crooked teeth gleamin’ gold in the blazin’ Arizona sun. You ain’t never see him grin this big, as he shouts and jeers too, challengin’ the canyons and the desert, darin’ them to take this moment away from the both of you.

“I can’t fuckin’ believe you!” You laugh, voice nearly gettin’ lost in the wind, cheeks hurtin’ from the way you’re smilin’ so much, “Goddamn you’re so -- so -- stupid!”

Kylo laughs at that too, a deep rumblin’ sound that feels so much like thunder that you’re sure it’s shakin’ the earth. Or maybe that’s Sam and Agnes, the way they’re throwin’ their heads back and whinnying and stampin’ their hooves into the caked dirt below. Either way, it’s a good sound, one of them sounds that makes you ache in your bones; you can’t remember the last time you heard someone else laugh so genuinely.

“Yeah?” He finally decides to slow Sam to a halt, and you do the same, tuggin’ on Aggie’s reigns to get her to calm just a little bit, the horses powerful legs comin’ to a gentle trot, both you and Kylo gulpin’ down air.

“Yeah. Why the hell did you bring us through there knowin’ there was bad blood?” You reach into the saddle bag and pull out a canteen, measurin’ a careful sip or two of the fresh river water, before decidin’ to pass the jug over to Kylo himself.

Gratefully, he takes the same size sip as you, and you think that’s mighty chivalrous of him once again, on account of he’s a much bigger person than you, and should clearly need more water. Still, you don’t protest when he hands the canteen back to you, the lid screwed on nice and tight to avoid spillin’.

“It was the only place I could think of that’s close enough.” He shrugs, and you frown ever so slightly at that, knowin’ that really, as long as you stay close to the Colorado River, you’ll have just about anything you need.

Well, almost, anyway.

“Close enough for what?” Your curiosity gets the better of you, especially when he starts rummagin’ around in his own saddle-bag for somethin’. You lean over, tryin’ to be nosy and get a peek inside, but he only clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and you duck your head, embarrassed at bein’ caught.

“For this,” Kylo doesn’t make you wait though, pullin’ out a couple boxes of bullets, but much more importantly, “And these.”

When Kylo pulls out the burlap sack filled with coins, your eyes widen. Right there in his fist has to be over five hundred dollars in gold and silver, more money than you’ve ever seen in one place save for the banks you burn. It makes your mouth go dry, and you wonder how he got a hold of it all, if he took it from the cash register by force, or if he stole it discreetly.

“Holy shit, no wonder you were takin’ so damn long.” You urge Aggie a little closer to get a better look, darin’ to stick your hand in the bag and scoop up a handful of the coins. They were heavy, heavy and real.

“I figured you wouldn’t be opposed.” Kylo speaks quietly as your hands let the coins fall between your fingers, clinking together back in the sack. He gives you the sack then, lets the weight of it rest in your hands, clearin’ his voice, “We’ll need it for Ruby City.”

Without a thought, you push it back into his hand. He was the one who had stolen it, it belonged to him. Yes you were out of money, your own coin purse completely empty, but...but you had more pride than that, to accept someone else’s hard earned coin. Even if he had earned it wrongly, it was still his.

Besides, you reckon as you shake your head when he tries to give it back once again, Kylo was right -- it’s less suspicious to travel with a man, and if you’re traveling together, he better be the one to handle the money.

Kylo seems to read your thoughts, and he just nods, before taking a couple coins out and handing them to you, fifty bucks weighin’ on your palm.

“Just take the fuckin’ money.” He says with a small smile. “I won’t hear any ‘no’, it’s yours too, for helpin’ me by distractin’ the townfolk.”

You sigh, and reluctantly put the coins in your own small purse. For the first time in a while, the fabric is bulged out and heavy. Kylo puts the burlap sack back in his saddle-bag, and you resolve to ignore its existence until you need him to pay for a room at an inn somewhere.

“Should’ve warned me that you knew the damn bartender.” You scold him then, a little disgruntled that he had kept that information from you. If you were going to be a distraction, you would’ve liked to know exactly who it was you’re distractin’. “Should’ve told me y’all hated each other.”

You don’t tell Kylo that you were flirtin’ with that Armitage, certain that he wouldn’t like it. He sure as hell didn’t like it when Amos was gettin’ a little too friendly with you, anyway, and he was just a stranger. To your surprise though, Kylo scoffs out a laugh, and fishes out his old cigarette from the inside of his boot, lightin’ it with a match and puffin’ smoke through his nose.

“Hate?” He’s got humor in his voice as he urges Sam forward, needin’ to get back towards the water’s edge before the sun sank too low in the sky, “Nah, Hux and I go way back. He’s a good friend.”

You level him a dirty glare at that, if only he had told you he coulda’ saved you a world of panic! You think about the way that Armitage shot out his own windows, the way that Kylo managed to murder Armitage’s brother without any guns of his own, and all the damn fallout that came from it.

“Didn’t seem to be actin’ like a good friend when he was aimin’ his shotgun at your face.” You point out, thinkin’ to yourself, men are so goddamn strange.

Kylo laughs again, and you find yourself growin’ dangerously used to the sound, so you just sigh and shake your head. He smokes and smokes, both of your horses leadin’ you closer to the water, havin’ galloped away from it ever so slightly.

“He likes when I come rollin’ through, trust me. He always complains about how quiet his lil’ town of Ragrock gets, likes to give the folks somethin’ to gossip about every now and again.” Kylo explains, patton’ Sam’s neck and flashin’ you a gold-tipped smile.

“So he really wasn’t going to kill us then?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Oh no he probably would’ve if I let him.” Kylo answers quickly, “‘Specially after what I did to Brian. But he’ll be fine with it in a couple weeks once folks tell him I wasn’t the one that started nothin’.”

You stare at him for a little while, and he can feel the weight of your gaze on him, but he only gives you a crooked smile and a wink. You weren’t so sure what that wink meant, but if you had to guess, it could really only mean trouble.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” You lick across your teeth to prevent yourself from smilin’ and givin’ him the satisfaction of knowing that he entertains you. The grin he gives you tells you he knows it anyway.

“Nothin’ that you can’t handle though, I reckon.” Counterin’ with a slight smile, Kylo ducks his head and blushes, and that alone is enough to make you tap your heels against Aggie’s hide, to get her to go gallopin’ down the canyons again.

-----------------------

Some hours later, when the world around you starts to cool off from the settin’ of the sun, you and Kylo set up camp near the river. He had gone ahead and scouted the spot out, made sure there weren’t any folks who had already laid claim to that particular stretch of the bend, no one that could go cousin’ any trouble.

There was more than enough money now, to buy new stocks of food whenever y’all got to the next stop along the route, but that didn’t mean that you were about to let Kylo blow through the supply. So instead, you ask he hunt you down another rabbit for dinner, which he does in less than a half hour, impressin’ you once again.

It’s quiet, out there by the river. The sky has faded to a gentle purple, the silvery moon high in the sky. You’ve got a fire made, nothin’ too big or roarin’, just tall enough to heat up the cast-iron pot that you’ve got hangin’ over it by an iron stake. That rabbit is stewin’ in the pot, along with some water, beans, cut up carrots and a little bit of rice. You stir the pot, listenin’ to the sound of the river as it trickles past.

The sweet sound of a harmonica sounds then, and your gaze snaps up to see Kylo with the instrument against his lips. His eyes are closed, and he’s breathin’ nice and even, the high tune of a melody makin’ your throat choke up. It was a tune you knew all too well, once upon a time, a long time ago.

You stir the stew, chewin’ on the side of your cheek, until somethin’ in you compels you to sing. Your voice is a little rusty, but it doesn’t deter Kylo one bit, in fact, when he catches wind of you singin’ along to his tune, he plays a little louder, a little clearer, switchin’ to the harmony as you take over the melody to the sad cowboy song that you once used to teach yourself,

"O bury me not on the lone prairie."

These words came low and mournfully

From the pallid lips of the youth who lay

On his dying bed at the close of day.

He had wasted and pined 'til o'er his brow

Death's shades were slowly gathering now

He thought of home and loved ones nigh,

As the cowboys gathered to see him die.

"O bury me not on the lone prairie

Where coyotes howl and the wind blows free

In a narrow grave just six by three—

O bury me not on the lone prairie"

"It matters not, I've been told,

Where the body lies when the heart grows cold

Yet grant, o grant, this wish to me

O bury me not on the lone prairie."

Kylo sets down his harmonica then, and you blink away a light mistiness in your eye. It ain’t good to dwell on the past, you know, but sometimes, times like these, you can’t help but think ‘bout it. Kylo’s blinkin’ away somethin’ too, you notice, so as you stir the stew and determine the rabbit and vegetable and rice are all as cooked as they need to be, you ladle a big bowl for you and for this man who has become the closest thing to a companion you’ve ever had in your life, and you take it over to him.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, not for a while. You simply sit down next to him, as close to him as you’ve gotten since that time in the river, and hand him the bowl and spoon. He accepts it gratefully, his own gaze cast into the fire, and not for the first time, you wonder what’s goin’ on in his head.

After a couple bites of the stew, you rest your head on his shoulder. It’s a tentative motion, a hesitant one. Kylo holds his breath, you can feel it in the way he tenses ever so slightly, but he doesn’t tell you to move, and that’s as good of an invitation to stay as any, you reckon.

“You can’t go lookin’ at me like that, by the by.” Breaking the silence, you slurp down a spoonful of stew yourself, lookin’ into the comforting vision of the flames which flicker and flare gently in front of you.

“Hm?”

“If we’re meant to be cousins,” You explain, voice soft and kind, knowin’ that you’ve been too hard on him these past couple days. “You can’t be givin’ me those eyes of yours. Folks might see through the ruse.”

Kylo surprises you by shruggin’ with his other shoulder, his cheeks crinklin’ into a smile. His dimples crease, and he chews on his lip a little, keepin’ his eyes down as he blushes.

“Folks marry their cousins all the time, it wouldn’t be so strange.” Kylo nearly whispers, almost like he’s afraid to speak the words, rushes quickly to try and change the subject as soon as he’s said it, “Hell, my mother almost married her own damn brother on accident -- but that’s a long and complicated story.”

“Oh so we’re married now.” You smile, feelin’ the heat rise to your own cheeks. It’s less of a question and more of a statement, the way you say it, and you find that against your own better judgement, you like the way it sounds. You like the idea of it, and that makes butterflies spark up in your stomach, a feelin’ you ain’t so used to.

“We could be.” Kylo doesn’t dare look at you, idly stirring his bowl, “We could pretend, anyway.”

You think for a second about what that might be like -- but then you shake your head a little and sigh, “I made a promise I’d never be a meek housewife.”

“Ain’t no one here callin’ you meek.” Kylo reassures you, and now it’s your turn to duck your head, to rest it against his shoulder a little more. Your heart beats wildly in your chest, you wonder if he can hear it out there in the quiet of night.

“Be my cousin, for just a little while longer.” You whisper, a silent plea to just give you some more time, “Until we make it to Ruby City.”

“I can’t get a good read on you.” Kylo hums, and you’re relieved to hear that he’s not got an angry or disappointed edge to his tone.

He really does respect you, you realize all of a sudden. Maybe it’s foolish to come to that conclusion so soon, so quickly after you’ve met him, but you can’t help but come to it nonetheless. He’s done nothin’ but respect you this whole time, and you don’t know what to do about that. It’s never happened before.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, a hint of a smile on your lips.

“It means that you’re the most mysterious damn woman I’ve ever met.” He replies easily, a smile on his own.

“I have to be.” Shrugging, you eat another bite of the stew, wishin’ you had some spices to throw in it. You hope Kylo doesn’t think it’s too bland -- before growin’ bashful again, at the thought that you want him to enjoy your cookin’.

“Why’s that?”

“Because the more people that know about me, the less safe I am.”

“I told you -- ”

“I know, you ain’t gonna hurt me, I know.” You interrupt him, before sighing, wondering if you were really going to do this, if you were really going to tell him. “That’s not what I meant.”

Kylo senses a shift in the air, a change in the atmosphere, and his teasing playful smile melts into something a little more somber, more serious. He watches you, and waits for what you have to say, and you decide that what the hell -- if you couldn’t tell Kylo, you couldn’t tell anyone at all.

“I didn’t always used to be an outlaw, you know.” Setting down your bowl of stew, you fidget with the hem of your blue dress’ skirt, and look into the fire, your memory transporting you to a place and time that felt like a million years ago. “There was a time, a long time ago, that I was a school teacher, in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere Utah...”

-----------------------

You were young, when you started teachin’ at the school. It had always been your favorite place when you were growin’ up, and when the teacher herself got married and moved away, you jumped at the vacancy at once. This was the only way a young woman like yourself could earn a living with her clothes on, you knew that, and though you were barely older than the students that came to your classes, you took your job seriously.

It had been a bright sunny morning in Spring the day you turned sixteen, when the bells tolled for all the school children to come rushing to your door. Standing outside the single room schoolhouse, you had a cheerful smile on your face as you welcomed the students that you had come to love and care for, as they bounded up the few steps and into the wooden building. Ranging in age from as young as five, to as old as twelve, two dozen students took to their seats, fresh faced and recently washed, hair combed for their lessons.

“Good mornin’ class!” You walk to the front of the room once the bell finishes tolling, picking up a piece of chalk and writing out the first line to a popular sea shanty turned folk song, your delicate cursive spelling, ‘O Bury Me Not On The Lone Prairie.’

“Good morning Miss (L/N)!” The class responds in happy unison. One of your students, a young girl named Wendy quickly gets out of her seat to place an apple on your desk before hurrying back.

You smile at her, at all of them, having grown so fond of this mis-matched group of kids that have been placed in your care for the weekdays.

“I trust y’all had a good weekend?” You ask them, met with a chorus of overlapping affirmations, and you chuckle at their response to immediately wantin’ to tell you all about everything they did on their days off. “Good, I’m glad. Now if you would buddy up and please take out your textbook, we’ll pick up where we left off on Friday.”

The McGuffey reader was your go-to book to teach the children with, it had everything you needed -- reading, writing, and arithmetic that was easy enough to understand by even the littlest of your students. It was broken down into repetition, phonetics, and even had lines to trace the letters and numbers, but more than that, it was the book you yourself had learned to read by, so you were familiar enough with it.

“Who would like to be the first to read what I’ve got written up on the board?” You ask, once they’ve all opened their books to the appropriate page, a handful of eager students at once clamoring to volunteer.

And so, like any other day, the morning turned to afternoon, and the afternoon turned to evening. When the bells rang to dismiss the class, the children groaned, knowing that meant they had to go home where their family would likely put them to work in the field or in the kitchen for an hour before supper.

“Thank you for another wonderful day children, y’all be good for your parents now, you hear?” You try to encourage them to cheer up, even if it did warm your heart that they liked learning from you so much. “Oh, Rickie? Could you come here for a minute? You’re not in trouble, I promise.”

Sitting at your desk for a moment, you saw the earring that you had stashed in your drawer from the evening prior, and you fish it out as the ten year old skips over to you, his mousy brown hair flopping around as he does. You smile, thinkin’ that he might do to ask for a trim when he gets home.

“Yes ma’am?” Rickie stands before the desk, and you hand him the earring, his eyes going wide as he recognizes it.

“Could you do me a big favor and deliver this to your Mama? She must’ve dropped it here last night and I’m sure she’s goin’ crazy lookin’ for it.” You smile, and he nods happily.

“She sure is! Earned myself a smack upside the head I did, when she thought I snatched it from her dresser!” Rickie laughs, clearly glad to have been vindicated.

“Well I’m sure she’ll be sorry when you bring it back to her, let her know I was the one who had it, not you.” You smile back warmly at him, but he’s already runnin’ out of the schoolhouse, callin’ another thanks and a goodbye behind him as he goes.

Only a moment or two before the last of your students are gone, is there a knock on the door.

He doesn’t wait for an answer before coming in anyway, and you look up with a frown to see who would be so rude as to invite themselves, until you recognize the sheriff and put a forced smile upon your face.

“Hello sheriff, how are you this fine evenin’?” You present yourself as politely as possible, as the man’s spurs clink while those heavy boots of his walk across your floors, trackin’ mud in from the outside with little care.

You didn’t like him, the sheriff. Didn’t like the way you caught him starin’ at you sometimes, didn’t like the way you caught him starin’ at the girls in your class. He was one of the oldest fellas in town, maybe three times your age. He’s starin’ at you now, eyein’ you up and down in a way that makes your skin crawl.

“I’m doin’ well honey, thank you.” The sheriff chews on some tobacco, a habit you can’t stand, before pointin’ out the door behind him and askin’ with a stern voice, “That boy wasn’t givin’ you any trouble, was he?”

“Rickie? No of course not, he’s a good kid.” You’re quick to reply, not wantin’ to cause any trouble for the young farmboy. You and the sheriff look at each other for a moment or two, before you grow more and more uncomfortable, busyin’ your hands with the worksheets that’ve been left on your desk to grade. You clear your throat, “Is -- has somethin’ happened?”

“Naw, I just wanted to come by and see ya before your night class starts.” The sheriff’s spurs clink clink clink over to the desk where he sits himself down, right on the wooden table-top.

“Well, here I am. Can I offer you somethin’ to drink? Coffee?” You try your best to be polite, hoping that one of your night students -- adults from the town who never got to go to school when they were young -- might show up and come to your rescue.

“Not tonight, thank you.” He replies, making you sigh out with relief against your better judgement. He doesn’t notice, instead you can feel his gaze on your chest, “But, if you’re free this friday evenin’, I’d love to take you up on that offer.”

“Oh...I see.” Bile rising up in the back of your throat, you shake your head and try to reject him as politely as possible, voice clipped yet firm as you move from around the desk to the chalk-board where you erase the children’s lesson and prepare for the adult’s. “Sheriff, I’m sorry but, I’m not quite interested in seein’ anyone at present.”

“And why’s that?” He doesn’t leave you alone, and you begin to panic with the way he’s steppin’ closer to you, knowin’ that if he traps you against the board, there won’t be a clear path to escape.

“Well it ain’t allowed for a woman to be datin’ while she’s a schoolteacher.” You explain, your voice starting to wobble.

Something about that makes him chuckle, somethin’ sinister, his blackened teeth from all that damn tobacco too close to your face when he grins.

“Must be awfully lonely,” Sheriff runs his hand up your arm, “Missin’ the comfort of a man at night.”

“It’s not.” Your body shudders in revolt, and you try to side step him, blood pounding in your ears, eyes wide in distress as you feel sweat bead up and trickle down the back of your thigh, “I appreciate your concern but -- ”

“Let me just get one kiss then.” He doesn’t let you go that easily, grabbing your arm harshly and dragging you over to one of the desks where he pushes you with a rough shove. His hand grips your cheek too hard, forcing your mouth to pucker as you fight him.

“Sheriff, I said no -- please get away from me -- I don’t -- don’t touch me!!” You knee him hard straight in the groin, your panicked scream alerting the adults who had thankfully, miraculously, decided to show up for evening class early.

“Miss (L/N)!” A couple of cattle ranchers kick the door open and run to your side, tugging you away from the sheriff who laughs loudly. You smell the stench of alcohol on him, realizing he’s drunk as all hell, and cling to the strong rancher, tears threatening to spill over your eyes.

“Don’t you ever fucking touch our teacher again!” One of the ranchers, a nice man named Francisco, holds you tightly, protectively. You always liked Francisco, he treated you like a daughter he never got to have. The other, Jedidiah, stands firmly next to you, so ready to lunge at the sheriff that you can’t help but feel immense gratitude towards them.

“Everythin’s just fine son, run along now.” The sheriff chuckles, but neither Francisco nor Jedidiah move a muscle.

“Sheriff I think you need to leave.” Mustering up as much of your courage as possible, you speak clearly, willing your voice not to shake as the safety of Francisco’s arms give you strength, “Class begins soon, I’m sorry.”

The ranchers stare the sheriff down, and he stares back, before noddin’ with a sick understandin’ that you reckon means this won’t be the last you see of him. Spittin’ his tobacco onto the floor, that same floor he sullied with the mud under his boots after the children had so lovingly cleaned it with you, the sheriff turned on his heel and left, pausin’ at the doorway for a moment to send you a dark, threatenin’ chuckle, “You will be.”

“Are you alright Miss (L/N)? Did he hurt you?” Jedidiah takes his cap off and kneels in front of you, tryin’ to appear as non-threatenin’ as possible. Francisco releases his hold on you, and checks you for any marks or signs of stress, but you just let out a shudderin’ breath and shake your head. You’re not sure which question that’s meant to answer, but they don’t press you.

“Who do we call when the sheriff’s the one acting out?” Francisco wonders aloud, and you feel like there’s lead in your belly, because he’s right.

The only way you’d likely be able to avoid the sheriff and his wrath would be to leave town altogether, and well, you couldn’t do that. Who would keep after the students then?

There wasn’t any trouble during the lesson that evening, much to your satisfaction. The later it got in the night, the more you felt relieved, surely if the sheriff was going to cause trouble, he would’ve done so by now. Your students can tell that there’s something off about you though, a few of them approachin’ you after the class was done, wonderin’ if there was anythin’ they could do.

In hindsight, you wonder how different your life would’ve been, had you asked to stay with one of them for the evening, or had you asked one of them to stay with you.

The chokin’ woke you up, before anythin’ else. Smoke, thick black plumes of it pouring out of the windows, the doors. Smoke in your lungs that had your body joltin’ up and out of the little bed up in the attic where you lived above the schoolhouse, had you rollin’ onto the floor in a panic.

“No!” You shout, as the heat of red orange yellow flames begins to lick up the walls, eatin’ away at the wood structure of the building, the whole thing two steps from bein’ a blazin’ bonfire out in the field, “Oh god, oh god no!”

Frantic, you run, mind going blank, trying to focus on grabbin’ the important things, only the important things; a photo of your family, the money out of the dresser, a copy of your favorite book. That was it, all you had that you could think to grab, before trying for the door.

The handle burns, and you scream, shaking the pain away from the blisteringly hot doorknob. You’re fucked, oh you’re so fucked, you think as you back up enough to barrel your way through the door, the wood shattering and splintering. The fire reached all the way up to the attic, there was nowhere you could escape. You could jump out the window, but you’d break your neck landin’ on the hard ground. Outside, someone yells, revelin’ in the way that you scream.

“If I can’t have you, ain’t nobody gets to have you, hear that? You hear that bitch?” The sheriff cackles tauntingly, and the fear of death drips icy cold down your back, compels you to run as fast as you can down the wooden rickety stairs, into the blaze.

If you can just get out, if only you can get out of this building, maybe you’ll survive, maybe you --“No!”

One of the stairs has shattered beneath your feet, your foot stomping straight through it, trapped. You cough and hack up the smoke, it’s stinging your eyes, it’s in your lungs, soot in your mouth, you can’t see, oh god it’s so hot, the flames are surrounding you, and your foot is stuck through the stairs.

“Please, please come on you’re strong enough for this, you have to be strong enough for this, come on.” You sob, willing yourself, yanking your foot out in harsh movements as the laughter screeches around you in a drunken stupor.

Eventually, in all your efforts, the structure of the stairs give away entirely, and you try to grab onto something as the floor falls beneath your feet, sending you crashing down into the classroom below. The fire’s taken everything here; the wallpaper, the tables and chairs, even the shiny apple that Wendy sat on your desk, all reduced to ash, cracking and spitting in the flames.

You’ve hit your head from the fall, you can’t move. Somethin’s pinned your legs, you can’t feel nothin’. At least there ain’t any smoke down here, all of it risin’ up up up through the building. The smoke pushes the bells, make them toll. You wonder if they’re callin’ the Reaper, tears slippin’ down your cheeks.

“All the books, oh the poor children.” You whisper, thinkin’ of them all, watchin’ as the textbooks singe to nothingness, knowin’ that soon your body will follow, “Who’s going to teach the children?”

-----------------------

Kylo’s arm is around you, you realize, out there in the present. He’s stock-still, face gone pale, somber. He’s crying, you realize, jaw clenched tight, the muscle in his cheek flexing from the force of it. You’re crying too, wetness on your face. You watch as a tear plips into the rabbit stew, and you’re not entirely sure if it’s one of yours, or Kylo’s.

“The rest of the town came to my rescue, once the flames got so bright you could see ‘em from across the fields. They thought I was dead, when they found me.” You clear your throat, rememberin’ the details of the story that you had only found out after the fact, “I was covered in soot, breathed too much of it in, I wasn’t wakin’ up. I later found out that the sheriff didn’t let them give me a funeral, just told them to stick me in a coffin and gave me a shallow grave.”

Kylo remains quiet, but the arm around you tightens. You’re reminded of Francisco then, how he had protected you. You wonder where he is, what he’s doing. If he ever got to have a daughter.

“I was glad for that part at least, it wasn’t too hard to dig my way back out when I woke up. I must’ve only been there for a couple hours, the dirt wasn’t packed tight or nothin’, thankfully.” You sigh, not knowing when to stop, now knowin’ how to do any of this, how to be vulnerable like this. You ain’t had to be vulnerable in a long, long time.

“Must’ve been out of my mind, I had never thought about killin’ anyone before, you know. I was more angry about the loss of the school than I was for my own life, if you can believe. I hunted him down, the sheriff. He thought I was a ghost, and he hid from me. I found him in the end, doused him in kerosene and lit the sonofabitch on fire right on his front porch.”

You lean your head on Kylo’s shoulder, and ever so gently, he rests his cheek against you back.

“I was sixteen then, and “I’ve been burnin’ shit down to the ground ever since.” You whisper, voice almost lost by the trickle of the river as it flows down to Colorado.

“I’m sorry.” Kylo says, snuffling into your hair a little bit, holdin’ you close, a silent promise.

“It ain’t your fault.” You reply, fightin’ that sour feelin’ in the back of your throat, nudging your face a little closer into his neck.

“If I had been there, I would’ve helped you.” He says, even though you both know that there ain’t no changin’ the past.

“You’re here now.” You pull back enough to look at him, really look at him right in the eyes.

“Yeah, I am.” He nods.

You wonder, sometimes how life might’ve been different, but after all is said and done, this is the life you’ve got.

Kylo lies down then, one arm extended out from his body, an offer.

You don’t think twice about it, when you lay down next to him, your head usin’ that arm as a pillow. It wraps around your shoulder, tuggin’ you to Kylo’s chest, and for the first time in a long time, when you sleep, you don’t dream.

"I've always wished to be laid when I died

In a little churchyard on the green hillside

By my father's grave, there let me be,

O bury me not on the lone prairie."

"I wish to lie where a mother's prayer

And a sister's tear will mingle there.

Where friends can come and weep o'er me.

O bury me not on the lone prairie."

"For there's another whose tears will shed.

For the one who lies in a prairie bed.

It breaks me heart to think of her now,

She has curled these locks, she has kissed this brow."

"O bury me not..." And his voice failed there.

But they took no heed to his dying prayer.

In a narrow grave, just six by three

They buried him there on the lone prairie.

And the cowboys now as they roam the plain,

For they marked the spot where his bones were lain,

Fling a handful o' roses o'er his grave

With a prayer to God his soul to save.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taggin' some Kylo lovin' friends!

@mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @schopenhauerdeathsquad @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen @caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars @kylo-ren-is-alive @caitlin-was-here @icarusinthesea @princessflip @goddessofsprings @mrs-gucci @baubub @bucky-j-barnes @mindyoshiii @beachwoodmonet @darkhairedmenrule @eagerforhoney @nekonaomitard @einmal-im-traum @justlenastuff @0nihiime

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren fanfiction #adam driver fanfic #adcu #my writing #biting dust #historical au #western au #outlaw!kylo ren #outlaw!reader

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

BTS Reaction | Someone Breaks Into Your Apartment [Request]

[BTS X GN!Reader]

Seokjin:

"Jin! Put me down!" You giggled as he picked you up and began carrying you up towards your apartment. You'd just gotten back from a date night at the funfair that was in town for the weekend and he was behaving like a teenager in love, picking you up and carrying you around.

"Please-" You stopped laughing when you noticed that your front door was surrounded by people and two policemen were coming out.

"What's going on?" Your hand dropped from Jin's who was now wondering what was happening, people were all gawking inside your apartment and that was when you noticed the front door was missing.

"Someone broke in." You dropped the stuffed animal that Jin had won for you and you rushed through the crowd of people and saw the policemen looking around.

"You're the owner of this apartment?" Jin was standing behind you when they began talking to you and explaining what happened but you weren't paying attention you were looking around. There was writing on the wall, papers ripped apart everywhere and glass smashed up along the floor.

"We think someone was trying to send a message." You scoffed at the statement about they ''thought'' someone was sending a message, it was pretty clear that they were since it was written on the wall in bright red spray paint.

"Stay away from him, he's ours." It was clear someone who was a dulu fan had broken into the apartment and decided to make sure you knew that Jin wasn't supposed to be with you.

"We've taken everything we can we'll be in touch." That was it? They were just going to leave you in your apartment with no front door, Jin wrapped his arms around you.

"Get your stuff, everything." He told you, he wasn't about to let you stay here not when the police were offering no help whatsoever.

"Jin-"

"No arguments lets get everything packed up."

Yoongi:

It was no secret that you lived in the worst part of town, Yoongi hated it. He was always trying to convince you to move out of the apartment you shared with your roommate, telling you to find somewhere safer but everywhere ''safer'' was a lot more expensive than you could ever afford.

"Thank you for tonight Yoongi." You whispered as he held your hand across the table - you were out on a date for your anniversary.

"My pleasure-" He stopped talking when he felt his phone vibrating, yours had done the same thing but it was your roommate so both of you ignored it thinking it was nothing but now that she was calling him it was clear something was wrong.

"Hi- What?! Yeah...Yeah, I'll be right there." Yoongi frowned watching as you began rushing to get up from the table.

"What's wrong?"

"Someone broke into the apartment, she just got home and the place in bits." You whispered looking around to try and figure a way out of the restaurant but your mind was in bits so everything seemed more confusing than it actually was and you were starting to freak out a little. Yoongi wrapped his arms around you and began leading you out.

(X)

The house was completely trashed when you got inside, the windows were broken, the mirror above the fireplace was smashed up around the floor and everything was gone.

"How did they-"

"They broke the window and unlocked the door from the inside." Your roommate answered throwing down a broken chair as she came out of the kitchen, the place was literally falling apart.

"Y-Yoongi," You whispered feeling uneasy about just standing in the apartment. Nothing was going to make you feel better about being there. It felt like everything was wrong and that you weren't safe,

"I'm right here baby." He whispered taking hold of your hand and wanting to keep you protected.

"I'll stay here tonight okay? Then we'll find somewhere new for you guys." He promised you kissing the base of your neck and looking around the apartment wondering how he was going to patch up the broken window.

"I'll call the boys." He whispered kissing your cheek and going to get his phone from your handbag.

Hoseok:

Hoseok was waiting downstairs in the car park to your apartment while you rushed up to your place to get your bag, you were going to stay over at the dorms for the night since the rest of guys had all gone out.

"Shit." You whispered looking at your front door to see it slightly ajar, you frowned pushing it open to see that the apartment had been ransacked.

"No!" You yelled looking around, everything had been taken except for massive parts of furniture that couldn't have been lifted from the floor.

"H-Hobi?" You asked down the phone as you called him, he chuckled thinking you were trying to tell him you missed him already but then he heard you whimpering.

"Baby?! What is it?!" He was already getting out of the car and rushing towards the staircase that came up to your room.

"Someone broke in...All my stuff, its-" You stopped when he stood at the doorway panting and looking around you were starting to shake at the fear that whoever it was could still be there,

"What if they're here?" He grabbed you and pulled you out of the apartment while he began calling the police, he kept his arms around you want you to know how close he was so you wouldn't feel alone.

"They'll be right here, you're not staying here okay. You're going to come back with me and stay at the dorms...We'll find a place together-"

"Together?" The thought of living alone with Hoseok filled your mind instead of the break-in and he chuckled, it was a good distraction and he nodded going along with it and telling you about how long he'd been wanting to ask you to move in with him anyway.

Namjoon:

Namjoon had left you at your apartment so that he could go to the studio, he'd been watching you sleep when inspiration struck him and he decided he wanted to go and write and record some songs about you. When he'd left you were sound asleep which was why he was shocked to see you calling him two hours later,

"Hi baby I'm just at the studio-" Your broken sob made him stop in his tracks, he dropped the pen he holding and began looking around for his keys wondering what was wrong.

"Nam...Namjoon." You stuttered out trying to get the words out but the policeman in front of you was making you nervous,

"What's wrong baby?" He questioned grabbing his keys and heading out of the studio, he didn't even care if it was something like a nightmare bothering you he heard you crying and instantly wanted to go and help you out.

"Someone broke into my apartment."

"I'll be right there baby." He hung up and began sprinting in the direction of his car determined to get to you as fast as he could.

(X)

"I woke up and whoever it was was in the living room. I thought it was my boyfriend...Namjoon but he-" You stopped talking to the policeman when Namjoon came to your front door drenched in sweat and panting heavily,

"I thought it was Namjoon but he'd gone out, the person in my kitchen they'd smashed the back window and got in that way." You finished your statement and Namjoon came over to you hugging you from the side and asking you if you were okay.

"N-Namjoon they got into my apartment." You whimpered, you were terrified about whoever it could have been, your head was going to what they could have done. They could have come in to murder you, or steal everything you owned,

"I know baby I know." You began whimpering as you cried out about how scared you were,

"I won't let you be scared baby, it's never going to happen again I promise." He whispered kissing the top of your head and rocking you a little bit trying to calm you down. He needed to text the boys and make sure they knew he wasn't going to be in work that day, he was going to stay with you as long as you needed him to be there. Not wanting to leave you even for a second.

"We'll find you a new place, in a safer part of town." He whispered as you snuggled against him finally feeling a little more at ease now that he was with you in the apartment.

Jimin:

Jimin sat across from you as you held onto the cup you were drinking from, you were sitting in the BTS dorms trying to come down from you you had just been through. Someone had broken into the apartment when they thought you weren't home and began stealing things,

"I saw them coming into my room and I just-"

"I know baby I know." He pulled you into his arms being careful of the cup you were holding. You'd called Jimin right after you called the police and he stayed on the phone to you throughout the entire thing.

"This is exactly why I told you we're moving in together, it's too dangerous on that side of town." You knew he was right but you didn't need to hear that right now.

"We're moving in together and I'm not going to take no from you." You smiled weakly at him agreeing that you were going to move in with him but still shaken up about the break-in.

"Did they take anything?" Namjoon asked handing you something to eat, he'd been trying to calm you down since the moment you got there.

"They took everything from downstairs but once they saw I was awake they ran off." You muttered looking away from Jimin and up and Namjoon who was angrier about it than you thought he would be. You were just upset and had a pounding headache from the stress it was putting you under, it was killing you knowing that someone had so easily broken into your apartment.

"After a good nights sleep we'll find somewhere but until then you're staying here, right Namjoon?" Jimin asked but Namjoon knew it wasn't a question it was a statement. You were staying there as long as you wanted and the boys agreed. They all saw you as their sibling and wanting to look out for you.

Taehyung:

The tour had ended and you had been on a long drive home with Taehyung back to your apartment on the bad side of town. He was begging you to just stay at the dorms but you told him you had to go home sooner or later,

"Would rather it was later." He mumbled walking with you into the apartment when he froze, something was wrong and you knew that as well.

"Taehyung stay here." You whispered telling him to call the police, you grabbed the bat you kept by the front door and headed upstairs ignoring Taehyung's pleas to make you stay with him that it could have been dangerous. You didn't care, someone was moving around upstairs so you walked up into your bedroom,

"Y/n?!" You cursed at Taehyung for shouting because whoever it was standing in your bedroom saw you and pushed you to the floor before sprinting down and out of the front door tyring not to get caught.

"Tae!" You cried out holding your head in pain, you'd smacked it against the wall and it felt like it was about to burst open.

"I'm coming baby who was-" He froze when he saw you holding your head, that was when he noticed a small bit of blood on your arm. You'd grazed it along the floor and he growled getting angrier with each second the police weren't there and whoever had broken in got out.

"You alright?" You nodded as he helped you up from the floor and looked at your arm,

"I'm okay, I don't think they took anything." You whispered going into your room, there was nothing missing and nothing was out of place so you had no idea what they were even doing in the apartment in the first place.

"The police will be here soon, they can work out everything baby come on." He urged you to follow him downstairs to wait for the police.

Jungkook:

Jungkook looked like he hadn't slept in days which was good because he hadn't, he hadn't slept in over 49 hours and it was starting to hit him hard.

"Baby will you come and sleep." You whispered looking over at him from your bed. Less than two days ago your apartment had been broken into and since then he'd been sitting in your bedroom with a baseball bat in case whoever it was came back.

"They're not going to come back-"

"You don't know that!" He snapped not wanting to be angry with you but they'd hurt you when they first broke into the apartment and he hadn't been there. He was supposed to have been there which was why your front door was unlocked so he could get inside.

"They hurt you-"

"Jungkook. They literally bruised my wrist that's all." They'd broken in and grabbed you to try and force you into telling them where there was some money in the apartment but you wouldn't give them the answers they wanted so they twisted your arm until it bruised up.

"They still hurt you! I should have been there I should have stopped-" He stopped talking when he felt your hands starting to massage his shoulders, he'd been stressed out over everything and blaming himself for what happened. You didn't want that, you wanted your boyfriend to get into the bed beside you and hold you until you went to sleep. Sure you were shaken up about it but you were going to be moving out with Jungkook soon, out of the apartment and away from where it had all happened so you didn't have to worry too much about it all.

"It's okay baby, come to bed." You whispered making him put the bat down and get into the bed beside you.

tagline:

@writingdreamsnottragedies @snowy-meowl @jooniesdarlingdimples @lynnthevirgo @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @callingmyangel @rjsmochii @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @innersooya

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resident-leevil-old · 3 years

Text

RCW's RE7 CONTINUITY:

RCW: Biohazard

in the re7 continuity of Raccoon City Winters i feel like Mia was more sympathetic towards Eveline considering her and Ethan had strikingly similar upbringings; minimal socializing, constant tests ran on them, the needles.

I feel she was torn between taking Eveline away and staying with the Connections in order to help Ethan and it made her feel like shit the entire time. Especially when she had been lying to Ethan about working with the Connections.

She justifies it in her head, saying it would hurt Ethan more if she told him she had been working in a similar place his father had been working in, for a reason almost the same. She knows it's a shit thing, to lie to him like this, but she really wouldn't be able to stomach the look he would give her, and maybe that's selfish but she hates to see him hurt.

And then Eveline, who was young and only wanted a family ("like Ethan did," her brain yelled at her) to grow up with. Eveline, who smiled up at her even after going through the worst tests imaginable and finds comfort in her presence, like Ethan did, every time. Eveline who cries because she knows she's too dangerous to have a real family, but wants to try- hopes she could anyway, like Ethan did.

Mia considers it, running away with Eveline, back home to Ethan and Kyde and stay as far away from California as they could. She planned it out, the whole situation, down from the moment she got Eveline out of that basically a cell for a room to buying a house under a different name in god-damned Romania if she had to.

She accepts her plan as half-baked but the overwhelming guilt and sympathy in her heart allows her to forget about that.

Then the ship, sprung on her that they would be moving Eveline somewhere. The hurricane, Eveline's freakout, Mia's promises of taking Eveline with her and being her mother, the mold.

That night, before the two of them were knocked out of that ship, Eveline cried in Mia's arms for the destruction she caused, and Mia held her and cried for the feeling of failure weighing on her soul.

And when Mia hits the water, when she starts to fall unconscious, she only thinks of how Eveline said she hated storms before, just like Ethan does.

And Mia wakes up at the Baker's, and they tell her they rescued her, she deliriously asked if they also found a young girl, if they found Eveline. They tell her not yet, tell her to rest and they promise they'll help find her little girl. She rests, but wakes up again later, unable to keep her eyes closed. She writes on a paper she found just about everything she knew about Eveline and herself, trying to recollect her thoughts when she noticed them fading.

She falls unconscious again before finishing the paper, and she's unable to defuse Eveline's fear and anger before the Baker's are under her control.

The years that pass, Mia spends trying to convince Eveline that they can leave the Baker's and start anew. Eveline refuses, too scared that the Connections will come for them if they leave this house. She compromised with the shots that slowed her aging, why couldn't Mommy compromise with her? Did she hate her? Did she secretly want to abandon her? Whenever Eveline asked the answers were always, "No, no Evie I don't want to abandon you but we can't stay here forever, eventually we'll run out of resources for your shots, I don't want you to die, and you'll die after too long without them."

Eveline is content with it, with dying, if she gets to stay with Mommy the whole time. When she told her that, Mommy cried and apologized to her. Eveline never knew why she kept saying sorry, but she stopped saying she would be okay with dying because Mommy crying made her cry.

As the Baker's become cannibalistic and murderous under Eveline's control, she becomes more prideful of herself. Mia doesn't know what to do, how to stop these people from dying, falls under a state of depression. She tries to talk to Eveline, tries to tell her to stop, though Eveline only tells her that she wants to find her Mom someone to be with since she was so sad all the time. Mia knows its a part of Eveline's powers, but the look of innocence in her eyes breaks her down and she stops opposing.

Eventually, Mia tells Eveline about Ethan. Talks about how Ethan loved her more than anything in the world, laments that she shouldn't have lied to him when she only wanted to help him, tells Eveline she only wanted to leave this house so they could be with him. Eveline listens, asks her if she misses Ethan a lot, latches on to the reason she gave for wanting to leave.

Mia tells Eveline she did, that she missed Ethan more than anything in the world, and before she knew it she was unconscious again.

Ethan's arrival sparked something in Eveline's soul. She felt angry, at first that this man was the reason Mom would be willing to risk herself and her freedom to be with. She makes Mom fight him a few times, so angry at him for being the reason her family almost broke apart.

Then she watches him cry. She watches this man sit next to his wife each time they fought and cry, even holding her at the risk of her waking up again and hurting him. Eveline sees a man who loved her Mommy so much he would risk dying to mourn her hurt.

And, the final time Mom falls because of Ethan, he didn't move at all, crying on his knees as he held her in his arms. He hardly looks away from Mom when Jack attacks him and even when he kills him.

Eveline realized, when he woke again, his thoughts now shared with hers due to their new connection through the mold, that he loved Mom just as much as she did. She tests him, makes him fight with Grandmother and Grandfather, watching over him as he stumbled through Lucas' puzzles.

Eveline starts to like this man, who loves her Mom so much he'd died and came back to life with her as the only thing on his mind.

They nearly escaped, in that stupid little boat. Eveline cried when they both fell in the water. She hadn't mean to do that, hadn't meant to hit the boat directly. She panicked, pulled them both out of the water. She may be angry at Mom and Dad for nearly leaving her but she didn't want them to die.

She helps Mom remember things she forgot, everything that lead up to this. Mom cried again, and Eveline cries for her too.

She talks to Dad, in his head, and she scared him but he doesn't let that get in the way of talking to her. He shows her kindness, sympathy, tells her he doesn't want her to hurt.

Eveline cries to herself, as Mia frees Ethan and pushes him away, afraid she would hurt him. Eveline doesn't make Mom do anything except sleep, lets her rest for all that these years and this day has troubled her.

She talks to Ethan in person again, cried because he was so much more than nicer than he had to be. Cried because she understood now, why Mom wanted to be with him again, cried because she kept them away from each other for so long. Ethan convinces her to let her control of the house go, and she collapsed into the hug he gave her, so so tired.

Ethan held Eveline protectively in his arms when he met Redfield, not letting this child who has been through so, so much out of his sight. He doesn't trust these people, but they're helping Mia despite what she'd done so he held back his hostility.

He refused to let them take Eveline from his arms, she was tired and none of them looked like they knew how to carry a tired child.

They have to do check-ups every month during the first year, but they're allowed to stay together. They have to move to Europe, "Romania, huh?" Mia thinks to herself when she heard it, realizing that she'd gotten her wish- just differently than she expected, and no one could know where they lived but otherwise they would be fine. They keep in contact with Zoe, and Kyde (who doesn't wait to say "I told you so," to Ethan but still shows he's happy Mia was found and well,) throughout the years.

Eveline gets a final shot that was able to stabilize her aging process, and she's able to go with no more needles unless absolutely necessary. Mia tells Ethan everything she had been there for, promising to never keep another secret from him again, and he forgives her (he would do it either way). The three of them live happily in Romania, for all of three years.

And Eveline doesn't tell anyone that Ethan isn't Ethan like he used to be, waits for everyone to notice by themselves. They never do. And Re8 begins.

And that, my friends, is the RE7 Continuity of Raccoon City Winters; Raccoon City Winters: Biohazard!

#re7 biohazard #resident evil 7 #resident evil au #eveline #re7 eveline #mia winters #ethan winters #alternate canon #long reads #long post #re8 spoilers #resident evil village spoilers #resident evil 8 spoilers #raccoon city winters #raccoon city winters: biohazard

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dapandapod · 3 years

Text

Lucky

A piece of Lambden for the Bog Fluff Battle! On Ao3 Here! Just a little bit of Aiden with a hurt leg and Lambert bringing him to Kaer Morhen over the winter to keep him close protect him. :) 8. Falling asleep mid conversation 27. First time meeting parent(s)/family

It has been a long week. Lambert has been pushing them to get to Kaer Morhen before the pass closes. They started too late, weather now unpredictable and full of dangers.

Aiden has had a hard time keeping up, still recovering from a nasty cut in his thigh and it’s taking more out of him to ride than usual. Lambert feels a little bad about it, but if they don’t want to get caught in yet another snowstorm and then have to turn back, they have to keep their pace.

Lucky that they actually got horses this time around. Last time Lambert made the trek someone decided to steal his horse as he was taking a contract.

Fucking bastards.

Lambert made sure no one even got close to the horses this time around. Not making that mistake again. This is taking enough time as it is.

Bringing Aiden to the keep is, well. Not risky, but not his best idea either, probably. For some reason, Vesemir has a thing against the cat witchers. The combination of finding a Cat friend (that he probably likes a little too much) and the promise of pissing Vesemir the fuck off is too good to resist. And taking into consideration that Aiden actually is hurt and could use a safe place to recover, there is simply no discussing it.

It is cold as shit, and when they camp for the night in an abandoned shepherd's hut they have to cuddle close together. Lambert will never admit how much he enjoys being close to Aiden. Not to anyone, least of all Aiden. He falls asleep while watching Aiden, hair falling into his face, mouth hanging slightly open as he snores.

In the morning Aiden's leg is stiff.

“Shut up, cat, and let me do it,” Lambert says, taking out a jar of ointment from his bag that he definitely didn’t pick up especially for Aiden. “We'll lose precious time if you're too sore to ride.”

Yeah, Lambert. Good cover. But Aiden doesn’t argue, he just pulls down his pants and presents his thigh. There might be a twinkle in his eye that makes Lambert's stomach flip, and Lambert ignores it with an angry huff. Like one does while hiding a crush.

He massages the ointment to the wound, carefully, and does not react when Aiden does breathy little sounds, thank you very much. Not until he’s done anyway.

“Felt good, kitty?” He smirks when Aiden is fastening his belt again. Aiden doesn’t miss a beat however, and winks back at him.

“Your hands always feel good on me, Lamb.”

Yep, that is all it takes for Lambert to turn his back and flee into all the things that have to be done. He is not blushing, it’s the cold. Leave off.

They are closing in on Kaer Morhen. Only another day or so, and they will be there. Lambert recognizes hunting trails and running tracks as they pass. But it’s getting late and Aiden is swaying in the saddle. So Lambert leads them towards a small cave that he found once and padded with moss. Hopefully there won’t be other inhabitants, but one never knows.

Lambert swiftly slides off his horse, but Aiden is still sitting in his saddle.

“You ok there, kitty cat?” Lambert asks, walking over and placing a hand on Aidens thigh. Aiden blinks blearily down at him and then looks around.

“Oh. We stopped.”

“Yeah. Come on down from there. I’ll catch you.”

It says a lot on how tired Aiden is when he just nods without further comment, lifting his leg over the saddle and sliding down into Lambert's open arms. He grunts when his feet catch the ground, despite Lambert bracing him.

“Stay here for a second?” Lambert says. “I’ll just tend to the horses and then we’ll get you inside and see to that leg.”

“Always took you for a caveman,” Aiden teases, and yawns before he can stop it. They are still standing close, so Lambert gets a face full of bad breath. He flicks his forehead in revenge, and then manhandles Aiden out of the way so he can remove bags and gear. It’s not completely safe, not even this close to the keep, so he will have to keep an eye out for the horses during the night.

As soon as the horses are settled, they make their way inside the cave.

“We really should put some more ointment on that.” Lambert comments when he sees how badly Aiden is limping.

“If you want to put your hands on me, Lamb, you only need to ask.” Aiden says, but it's sleepy and mumbled and utterly adorable.

“Alright. Aiden, let me put my hands on you.” Lambert snarks back, and Aiden blinks slowly at him in surprise.

“Drop your pants, kitty.” Oh yeah, that’s a blush. He seems to be unable to find words, opening and closing his mouth again, but he is doing as he’s told.

Something warm flutters inside Lambert, and he flicks Aiden's forehead again.

“Idiot,” he says and makes Aiden sit down so he can apply the ointment.

It’s a silent affair. Lambert massages and pats it in around the injury, mindful of the raw scar that is still there. As soon as he is done, he wipes his hands and settles so he can see out of the cave, having a look out for dangers. Aiden is tucked in next to him, wrapped in their blankets and furs. Lambert snags just the one, Aiden's body next to his helping plenty to keep his temperature up.

“I never said thank you.” Aiden says suddenly.

“For what?”

“If you hadn’t been there, I probably would have stayed the winter in some cave in the south.”

“Ah yes, which is very different from the cave we are in now in the north.”

“Yes, very different. You’re here.” Aiden mumbles, words a little slurred. Aiden allowing himself to be this vulnerable with Lambert around is… it makes Lambert want to hold him close, protect him from the world. He is not very used to that feeling.

“You’re welcome, kitty. You are lucky I'm the best friend there is,” Lambert says, trying to sound cocky. But it’s hard.

Aiden yawns again and suddenly there is an arm thrown over his legs and a forehead pressed into his hip.

“You really are,” Aiden says and then he is gone. Fast asleep, mouth hanging open like usual and hair all over his face.

Lambert looks down on him, and allows himself a moment of weakness. He pulls the hair out from Aidens face and tucks it behind his ear.

Something he’s been wanting to do since the first night he saw the other witcher asleep in all his messy glory.

Aiden's arm tightens around him and he cuddles a little closer. Lambert smiles and looks out into the darkness, preparing to meditate during the night. It’s peaceful, Aiden's snoring and the sound of the horses. Calm settles in him, and he feels himself sinking into it.

Kaer Morhen is every bit the ruin he remembers it to be. An echo of its grand self, walls long since broken and crumbled. Rats scurry here and there, making excellent target practice for the little princess that recently has taken up residence in their keep, along with her caretakers.

“Princess!” Lambert yells when she sees him, jumping from a high wall and into his arms without a trace of fear.

“Manchild!” she squeaks back when he hugs her close and spins her. That is a new insult.

“OI ESKEL! WHAT ARE YOU TEACHING THE CHILD!” he yells up the wall, and indeed, Eskel's head poke out with that hideous grin of his.

“Prefer manbaby? We can do that!” He yells back down and Lambert flips him off.

“Ooh, look what the cat dragged in!” Another voice pipes up and Jaskier's head appears next to Eskel.

“Bard!” Aiden exclaims, and Jaskier does the same fearless jump into his arms as Ciri did. The fuck?!

Geralt darts out when Jaskier jumps, for an entire second scared that his bard has fallen to his death, but no.

“Oh. It’s you,” He says and returns to whatever he was doing up there.

“You know each other?” Lambert asks, feeling like he is missing something important here.

“Who doesn’t know Aiden?" Eskel says back, and alright, Lambert did not expect that. Aiden winks at him and puts the stupid bard down.

That night, Vesemir insists that he and Aiden share a room. He knows this Cat, he says, and he doesn't trust him further than he can toss. Which in itself is an insult, because apparently Lambert is how far Vesemir can toss. Meaning very much out of sight on the other end of the keep.

They at least get a big bed, even if it is only one. Jaskier smirks big time when he learns what room and where and does waggly eyebrows at him every chance he gets.

Fucking bard.

As soon as they are alone, Lambert shoves the little jar of ointment in Aidens hands.

“Massage your wound,” He says, words short and clipped. He can’t put the finger on why he is angry, but he is seething. He bustles about, unpacking his bags and claiming whatever space he can before Aiden can put his paws on it, as he usually does whenever they have shared a room.

“Not helping me today?” Aiden asks, a curiously blank expression on his face.

“No?” Lambert replies, sorting his clean socks from the dirty ones. Coming home from travels always means laundry. “You seemed to be walking just fine today. And awake enough to do it yourself.”

Aiden is silent until Lambert turns to look at him.

“What?” He mutters, debating whether or not he should toss the dirty sock in Aiden's face. The face that everyone in this fucking keep seems to know somehow.

“Why are you angry?” Aiden asks, fiddling with the jar in his hands.

“I'm not.” Lambert lies, turning back to his laundry.

“Is.. is this because of what I said the other night?”

“No.”

“No? Then is it because I hugged the bard?”

“No,” Lambert says through clenched teeth, and alright, maybe he is. Aiden seems to notice, and there is a shuffling behind him, and then Aiden is slumping against Lambert, back to back.

“I have a confession,” Aiden mumbles, leaning his head back against Lambert's shoulder. It’s warm, comfortable, and it pisses Lambert off all the more that he feels that way.

“Please tell me you didn’t fuck the bard.”

“What? No! Geralt would have killed me if I even looked that way!” Aiden huffs, and well, fair. But is that the only protest he has about it? A fear for his life?

“Listen. I… I might have been nervous.”

“About what?”

“About meeting your family. It’s a big deal.”

“What do you mean?” Why does that sound, well. Like they are together? It puts a little spark in Lambert's stomach, chasing away that ugly anger.

“Of course I didn’t know when you would invite me. But I knew you would eventually. And I, uhm- I wanted them to like me.”

Aiden turns his head so his forehead rests against the back of Lambert's head. Lambert lets the socks drop to the floor, putting his hands on his thighs.

“Aiden.”

“I know.”

But does he? Does he really? Lambert wants to turn around and look at him, wants to figure out those cryptic words.

“I really am lucky.” Aiden says after a moment. “To have you in my life, I mean.” “Why are you sweet talking me, kittycat?”

“Maybe I want you to turn around and kiss me? And stop throwing a fit because you are jealous?”

“I’m not jealous.” Lambert protests, but he turns around and just does that.

Aiden isn’t smiling when Lambert turns. Just looking at him, that stupid wild hair of his all over his face. Lambert tucks a lock behind his ear, just like before, and kisses him.

A soft drag of lips, lazy nips and licks like they have done nothing else in all their years together.

When they part, Lambert strokes a thumb over Aiden's cheek, still looking at those lips. Maybe he should lean in, kiss him more.

“Tell me again how lucky you are to have me in your life.” Lambert smirks, noticing the blush on Aiden's cheeks. Witchers can’t blush, bullshit. “And this time, no falling asleep on me.”

“Aww, I was planning to use you as a pillow!”

“Brat.”

Some hours before daybreak, Lambert wakes up with a start. Across his chest lays Aiden, startled awake by Lambert.

“Wait. Kittycat. Are you the reason Vesemir dislikes cat witchers?!”

“Uhm… Look. There was this incident with an egg…..”

#lambden #lambert x aiden #the witcher #bog fluff battle #kaer morhen #hurt aiden #caring lambert #snarky boys #fluff #kaer morons #because they are #i dont make the rules #geraskier #eskel #ciri #vesemir #egg incident #dapanda writes

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angelanimedesaray · 3 years

Text

Wings in the Dark Chapter 9: Thorns on the Rose

AN: It took me forever to come up with this title lol And I can’t begin to explain how much I adored all the feedback...and how tempted I was just to let you all squirm for a few days just for the heck of it XD

ik, ik, I’m evil, what’s new (She says, sipping from the mug that says Tears of My Readers. No really, I own a mug that says that. It’s my favorite).

I swear the delay isn’t because I wanted to make you squirm, though, I really had some troubles near the end and had to work through them PLUS decide to chop of my initial plans for half this chapter and shove them into the next chapter because this one was already so damn long XD

Characters: Levi, Fem!Vampire!Reader, Erwin

Pairing: (Eventual) Levi x Fem!Vampire!Reader

Warnings: Language, Allusions to Trauma, Antagonization, Mentions of: Death, Violence, Near Death, Blood, Murder.

Word Count: 9183

<----Previous Chapter Masterlist Next Chapter---->

*Levi’s POV*

When Levi came to, he felt lethargic and disoriented. His head was pounding, limbs heavy, and he even found breathing to be tiresome and difficult. Something that would have normally been alarming, if he could think straight.

What day was it? Was it night or day? Where was he? Why did he feel like there was somewhere he needed to be, something he needed to do?

He attempted to move his arms to start to sit up, opening his eyes briefly before immediately closing them as the world spun around him, the bright light painful on his eyes. A groan rumbled in his chest but didn't make it past his lips as he slowly started to sit up, using the soft surface below him as a sense of stability and direction while the world was spinning around him. As he sat up, something sheer and soft slid off his bare skin, scratching against something that was covering his lower torso.

Levi opened his eyes more cautiously this time, squinting against the light that came in through the window as his vision slowly came into focus on the familiar room around him.

His room. His bedroom.

What the hell was he doing in bed? He never slept in his own bed--it was there for decoration more than anything else. If he'd fallen asleep it would have been in just own chair.

And why was everything in his head such a confused mess? He shouldn't be this disoriented right now, why couldn't he remember...remember…

Levi lifted a heavy hand to his head, fingers digging into his hair as he tried to remember how he got here, what had happened before he'd fallen asleep?

Wait, there were...bandages on his head? Had he been knocked out by something? Some freak accident?

Right, he hadn't fallen asleep...he'd fallen unconscious because…

Levi looked down, finally noticing the bandages wrapped around his middle as well, covering his abdomen with a few strips wrapped over his shoulder to keep them in place. His hand lowered carefully to his middle, hand pressing tenderly for a wound, for some reason expecting to see blood gushing everywhere or to at least start seeping through the bandages.

The skin underneath was tender, sensitive to the touch and admittedly painful now that he was aware of it, like one large bruise or burn. Except, he knew that wasn't what was underneath the wrapping.

He remembered...blood. Lots of it, seeping out of a hole in his stomach, a hole ripped through him by the broken debris of a warehouse. He'd been losing blood so fast, staining his shirt, his skin, his hands, the floor...he'd known the moment he realized he'd been impaled he was going to die.

So why wasn't he dead?

Why had he gone to the warehouse in the first place?

The door to his room--the office portion--opened without anyone knocking, and Levi looked up in surprise. Considering the lack of an inquiry, he assumed it was Erwin coming inside. They cut right through his office without hesitation, heading right towards his bedroom door to reveal--

His stomach lurched, panic started to try and rear its head from his chest.

Red eyes, burning skin, a necklace, arms that threw him through walls and into the wood that impaled and should have killed him, an arm pressed against his lips, forcing blood into his mouth and holding fast to keep him from spitting it out though he still tried, in vain, to do just that, hands over his mouth and nose, cutting off his air until his body grew so desperate for oxygen it swallowed the blood in his mouth on a reflex.

Hands pressed against his fatal wound to try and stop the bleeding, arms that pulled him free from the wood he'd been impaled upon, a voice that tried desperately to keep him awake even when he lacked the strength to stay conscious any longer.

Even with some of the answers she was still a damn enigma.

L/N walked through his bedroom door as if it was perfectly normal for her to be here, a tray with teacups and freshly brewed tea on one hand while the other was opening and closing doors. She was completely unharmed--no burned skin, no line on her neck where his blade had drawn blood, no fucking gash across his chest where he'd cut her open trying to get her to stay away from him. Her eyes were back to their normal color, not a hint of red in them or on the clothes she'd clearly changed.

How long had he been unconscious?

No, that was a secondary question, he had more important things to worry about right now. Like how casually she'd just walked into his room, the fact that she was in his room, when he knew what she was.

The sheets that had covered him were thrown aside as she entered the room, the world tipping dangerously as he tried to swing his feet out of bed and get to his feet, tried to get to a position he could fight back. L/N moved in a blur, not even trying to hide her nature anymore as she sat the tray of tea down on the closest surface and practically appeared in front of him.

"You shouldn't be out of bed, yet, you're still not--"

Ignoring what she was saying, Levi reached out and grabbed a fistful of the front of her shirt. With far more effort than he would ever admit, he pushed her backwards, his own steps staggering and unsteady as he followed her, pushing her up against the wall, eyes glaring murderously at her and effectively silencing whatever else she was about to say.

They stood there for several moments, Levi's heavy breathing filling the room, L/N's hands up at her sides with palms out, meeting his gaze and appearing infuriatingly unsurprised by his reaction.

He wanted to just kill her here and now. Fuck, he shouldn't have hesitated back in that warehouse, things wouldn't have ended in his…

He wasn't dead. He was certain he wasn't dead. He hadn't died...had he? He should have. He'd been at the brink of dying the last he remembered. She'd been yelling at him not to die because her blood...her blood needed more time to heal him.

Levi's grip on her shirt tightened, fabric straining and threatening to rip.

He should have fucking killed her when it was simply man verses monster, because now she'd saved his life, and he didn't know what to do.

He had to accept that this situation was a lot more...complicated then he'd originally thought, and that he didn't understand what was happening. And if he didn't understand the situation, he couldn't approach it properly.

"I don't trust you," he growled out in a low voice. Again, she was unsurprised. It was probably one of the only stable facts between them right now.

"But…" his fingers flexed, adjusting the grip he had on her. "I will listen one time, and this time you'll answer our questions."

"Our?"

"Erwin will be there. Whatever I know, he'll know, and I don't want to be repeating shit." Levi centered his gaze on her again, expression dark and hard. "One time, and then we'll decide what to do with you."

Levi waited until she gave a slow nod to show she understood before he released her, hearing a little slide against the wall that told him he'd lifted her slightly--he hadn't even been aware. Turning away, Levi attempted to get back to the bed before his strength left him, but his knees buckled and he started to collapse before he even made it halfway there.

L/N caught him before he could hit the floor.

"Your interrogation will have to wait. You still haven't recovered enough to really get out of bed," she told him, helping him get to the bed before he pushed her off to let him do the rest by himself.

She backed off and let him struggle to get back into the bed, going back over to the tray of tea she'd brought in the first place to start pouring the cups as she spoke. "You've been out for a couple days. People have been asking questions, which I haven't answered. I've just been saying it's your business and leaving it at that. You can probably expect a visit from Commander Erwin any day now--you can tell him whatever you want, then."

"What did you do to me?" Levi cut in, fists planted in the bed as he tried to make sense of what had happened, how despite all odds he was sitting in this bed with some creature of the shadows attempting to have casual conversation with him as if he hadn't tried to kill her, as if she hadn't almost killed him and hadn't killed so many others before him.

She looked at him in silence for a brief moment, as if sizing him up before she approached with a cup of tea in hand.

"My blood can heal most injuries, if there's enough time. It's gross, and it's risky, but it was your only chance given the situation. But it was also cutting it close." She held out the cup of tea, and Levi eyed it distrustfully. A bit of annoyance crept through her voice, and she held it a little closer to him without spilling it everywhere. "No it's not your usual black tea--it's an herbal blend that should help your recovery, so I suggest you drink it anyway."

When he still seemed reluctant, she grabbed his hand and placed the cup in it to make him hold it. "I'm not going to have gone to all this trouble to save your life just to poison you with tea at least half a dozen people saw me making or on my way here with."

Honestly, he wasn’t sure he could stomach anything right now after hearing that. She’d made him drink her blood. The thought alone made him nauseous as he stared down at the tea whose fragrances were doing nothing to help settle his nausea.

L/N sat down next to him instead of retreating to a chair in the room or leaning against the wall, making Levi stiffen and shift away, glaring at her and about to tell her to get the hell away from him. She reached out with a hand to grasp his chin, which made Levi glare daggers at her and pull out of her grip, his free hand knocking her hand out of the way.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he seethed, on the brink of trying to clock her in the jaw if she didn’t get out and leave him alone.

“Checking something. Believe me, this is a quick exam you want me to make. I said there were risks for healing you the way I did, didn’t I?” she said seriously, her gaze sharp and analyzing as they swept across his features. The way she said it made him even more nauseous, the bad feeling settling deep into his gut.

She kept her hands off this time, though it also meant she got closer, staring intently into his eyes before she started asking questions.

“How’s the light? It’s not too much, causing any discomfort or headaches?” she asked, and it was at that point Levi realized the lighting in the room was all natural sunlight.

“No. A bit at first, not now,” he said shortly.

“Does your jaw hurt? Feel like there’s a stabbing pain, like a tooth trying to break through?”

“What? No.”

Levi leaned away from her, unsettled by the questions he was being asked as well as her close proximity. Surprisingly, she got to her feet with a small nod, closing her eyes and letting out a relieved little sigh. “Good. I just wanted to make sure.”

Levi’s gaze tracked her as she went back to the tea tray, trepidation bubbling up in his gut. “What were the risks?” Levi asked in a deceptively steady tone.

She hesitated in answering him, which was alarming in and of itself, but she ended up choosing not to try and hide it from him.

“If you’d died with my blood in your system, you would have turned into what I am.”

Levi felt numb, except for the painful pounding in his chest and the ring in his ears at her words, his breaths cutting against his lungs. She turned to face him, looking worried, but Levi spoke before she could say anything else.

“Get out.”

The words were heavy and harsh against the silence of the room, and she took another step forward with hesitation, her concern momentarily outweighing her caution.

“Get the fuck out,” he spat venomously, glaring at her to drive the point home. She withdrew into that shell of hers instantly, gathering up the few things she’d brought with her, but pausing with her hand on the doorknob, the wooden door partially closed behind her but still open enough to show her back. He couldn’t see her face, he could just see her hair, the back of her clothes, the corner of the tray.

“I really am glad that you’re alright, Captain. And relieved that you’re still human. I suppose I’ll see you soon after you recover.”

She left before he could throw any other scathing remarks her way, leaving him behind in the silence of his room as the reality of what happened in that warehouse started to press in on and crush him until it felt like the solid ground beneath his feet had disappeared and he couldn’t breathe.

Two days later, after Levi filled in a dubious Erwin on the reality of what Y/N L/N was hiding, it was quickly established that a proper interrogation was long overdue, especially since she was willing to cooperate and openly answer questions now. They just needed to wait until Levi recovered enough he could move around without drawing attention to his injuries. He’d already been a fast healer, but with L/N’s...help...he recovered in record time. Erwin didn’t say anything, but Levi suspected Erwin wondered if Levi had ever actually been hurt, considering he’d never even seen a wound from him.

Erwin hadn’t seen what Levi had seen, he didn’t have the visual proof, just Levi’s word. Even trusting Levi’s word wasn’t enough for this. They were going to have to do something to show him the validity of Levi’s claims.

Still, Erwin trusted him enough to arrange for the secret interrogation, one that was going to be done in the dungeons, with L/N handcuffed behind bars in a cell while Levi and Erwin stayed on the other side. Levi wasn’t sure how much good a few pieces of iron were going to be in holding her back, but it was the best they could do.

Well, that and something else that Levi expected massive resistance over.

True to her cooperation so far, L/N agreed on the secret meeting in the basement, the three of them rendezvousing in the dungeons in the middle of the day while most of the Scouts were out busy fulfilling duties or enjoying time off with their family or friends. Erwin had glanced between the two at the palpable, hostile tension coming from Levi and the attempt at indifference L/N seemed to be trying to exude in return to Levi’s hostility.

Erwin had already tried to suggest he do most of the talking, but Levi had turned him down flat. Normally, yes, he let Erwin take the lead for these kinds of things--but this had started to cross over into personal a while ago, and he had questions of his own he was going to have answered.

“Pardon the precaution, but if you don’t mind,” Erwin said politely, putting the cuffs on her before stepping aside and holding an arm out towards the cell that was currently open and waiting, a chair already situated on the other side of the bars for her to use.

Levi could have sworn he saw a flash of amusement in her eyes, which confirmed his theory the bars and cuffs did nothing but give an illusion of safety. Still, she went inside without a comment, picking up the chair and bringing it over to the wall, setting it with its back to the wall so she was facing the opposite stone wall instead of facing them directly on the other side of the bars. While she was adjusting her chair and taking her seat, Erwin shut and locked the door, taking up the seat facing the cell while Levi moved over to the bars, leering inside at her.

“We’ll be taking that necklace, too. So you don’t make a break for it in the meantime,” he added. As expected, she cast him a sharp look, the reluctance clear on her face. “Unless, of course, you were lying about being so cooperative.”

She cast him a dirty look at the clear attempt to back her into a corner where she would have to hand it over as a show of good faith, but to his mild surprise, she reached up and carefully undid the necklace she’d nearly killed him trying to get back in the warehouse, coming over to stand in front of him at the bars of the cell and holding it out for him to take. When his fingers closed around the medallion and he attempted to take it, her grip tightened instead of released, causing his gaze to narrow slightly at her as the silver chain went taut, and there was a brief spark in the tension between them both.

“I want that back,” she said seriously, holding his gaze for a few seconds more before she released it, the chain falling loosely against his knuckles with the ends left dangling past his closed fist.

“Depends on what we decide after you spin your tale,” Levi returned with a hint of a bite in his tone. Erwin sighed softly behind him at the antagonizing air between the two, but Levi ignored him, moving over to take up a spot leaning against the wall behind Erwin, finally able to get a good look at this special necklace for the first time. The chain and the border of the medallion were both silver, with strange engravings along the back of the silver medallion piece in symbols he didn’t recognize. The medallion, however, was simply a well-polished black fire opal. Besides that, there didn’t seem to be anything strange, magical, or supernatural about it. It just seemed like a fancy necklace.

“What’s so important about this necklace, anyway? I get it lets you go in the sun, but the way you reacted? There’s more to it than that,” Levi asked, gaze flickering back up to where L/N had retaken her seat in the cell as he tucked the necklace away into a different pocket than he had in the warehouse, just to keep her guessing in case things went south again.

“I’m going to lead this interrogation, Levi, remember?” Erwin reprimanded him steadily. Levi was unfazed.

“It’s as good a place to start as anything,” Levi said indifferently, eyes still fixated on L/N.

“Then you clearly didn’t think too long on the fact that it lets me walk in the sun,” she said with a sigh, turning her head to meet Levi’s gaze unflinchingly. “You could say that necklace is the physical manifestation of my freedom. Without it, I can’t go out in the daylight, yes. I can’t feel the sun. Can’t move around in the day and be part of society. Can’t live on the surface. Without it I’d be kicked back down into the Underground to try scraping by day after day with no way out, for an eternity. So yes, I reacted a little strongly when it was taken from me.”

Oh, she wasn’t holding back her verbal punches after that clear dig at him and his past. This was going to be an interesting interrogation, then. Levi also planned on putting her through the verbal wringer when it was his turn to field the questions to make sure she wasn’t hiding even a shred of dark intentions or ulterior motives. And poor Erwin was going to be smack in the middle of it.

“Let’s take a few steps back, so that everyone’s on the same page,” Erwin said in a voice that spoke volumes for the more mediatory role he was slowly getting pushed into. “Captain Levi’s seen all the evidence he needs to believe this shadow monster theory, but I’m finding it harder to believe without seeing anything to prove it, myself.”

“Vampire.”

“Sorry?”

“Vampire. Not shadow monster. There’s an actual name for what I am, even if the people within the walls seem to have forgotten it for some reason. I’m what’s called a vampire.”

“Vampire, then,” Erwin said patiently. “The problem still remains, though, that I find it hard to believe.”

“It is rather hard to believe, isn’t it?” she said, getting to her feet to look around the room idly, contemplating how she wanted to prove she was what she said she was--a vampire, apparently. She eventually picked up a fairly sizable piece of rock and snapped it in half with a display of strength that further solidified Levi’s thought that those bars and handcuffs did nothing to hold her back. Putting the sharp edge against the inside of her palm, she cut her hand open, angling it in Erwin’s direction so he could watch as the wound healed rapidly in front of them until all that was left was a bit of blood in her palm, not even a faint scar line. And no steam, like when a Titan regenerated. “Is that enough, for the time being? The only other things I can think of to prove I am what I say I am would only make me look a helluva lot more threatening and far less cooperative.”

Erwin had that familiar stoic mask in place as he processed the reality of what Levi had told him with that little display of tangible proof. At least Erwin had some mental preparation for what she was ahead of time--Levi just had it dumped on him all at once.

When he seemed to reach a point he was satisfied with, Erwin leaned forward, hands folded together and resting against his chin as a hard and serious light appeared in his eyes, focused on L/N on the other side of those bars.

“Levi has already filled me in on what he’s been able to observe, and what he’s heard from local legends. I’m of the opinion we should get some clarity from you--confirmation or denial on the accuracy of these details, anything we might be missing. That way we have a better understanding of who we’re dealing with.”

L/N looked away, Levi able to catch the briefest flash of resignation in her eyes as she chose to instead look at the wall across from her again. “Know thine enemy, correct?”

“Well...whether you’re our enemy or our ally has yet to be decided. Ideally, we’ll know after we finish talking.”

"What do you want to know?"

For the time being, Erwin took over the interrogation entirely while Levi acted the silent observer, giving her soft questions that were easy to answer and shedding light on the basics of what she was.

"Legends say you're immortal. Y/N Frazier supposedly died about forty years ago, which would make you--"

"Late sixties, approaching seventies. Except I don't age, so even though I've been around for that long, I'm frozen in my mid-twenties. I'll never get a day older."

"And the blood drinking?"

"Unfortunately very true. So long as I keep a healthy diet of blood in my system, I function like any other human being. Except, I don't actually need to eat and drink regular food to survive. It helps me look normal and blend in, I can still enjoy it, benefit from herbal teas, and eating and drinking regular food can help with...cravings."

"Levi’s noted that you go out once a week to satiate your hunger. That's quite a lot of people to have killed over forty years or longer, if you stuck with the once a week approach."

"It's the diet and lifestyle. I could go longer without it if I wasn't in a field where I'm likely to be around blood often and need to keep cravings tightly under control. Not to mention I'm not taking the best quality blood out there, which unfortunately means I need more across a shorter span of time because it doesn't keep me satisfied as long."

"Blood quality?"

"Yeah, the better quality blood, the stronger the vampire and the less often they need to feed. Animal blood could work in a tight spot, but it would be miserable, and it would be harder to resist human blood constantly denying that basic nature, so it's not an option for me. People that do a lot of drinking and drugs and other pollutants to their bodies have a lower quality blood, and surprisingly lifestyle has an impact as well. Certain bloodlines are...exceptional: top tier stuff, like perfectly curated tea leaves."

"And your...diet?"

"A lot of pollutants...bare minimum stuff. I try to single out people who thrive off the suffering of others, the people doing the really nasty stuff to others where they think no one is looking. Sometimes I'm rushed, and I don't always have the luxury of a full background check before targeting someone, but I have my standards and tricks for luring the worst people out. I have lines I don't want to cross. It satiates my hunger, but I could do better. I just refuse to feed off innocent people...like most vampires seem to do."

“What if you didn’t feed off anyone? What happens?”

“Slow and painful starvation over...I don’t know, decades, centuries? It’s not pleasant. Someone threatened me with it once and from what I understand its a very slow and agonizing decay over a very, very, very long period of time.”

"You mentioned how your diet can affect how strong you are--what does it affect? Levi’s already noticed you have keen senses, fast reflexes, strength, speed…"

"He's not wrong," she said softly. "One of my first days here I got in trouble for holding back on my fellow cadets. The problem is, if I don't hold back, someone could get seriously hurt. I can move faster than the average person--I could probably intercept an arrow, maybe even a bullet. Reflexes fall into that same category. I have enhanced senses, definitely. I can hear your heartbeats, and the heartbeats of the people above us, a mile out if I'm not focusing, a little further if I am. I've learned to sift through all the excess noise and focus on certain sounds or voices, or to block it out if I need to. Sight is much sharper than normal, too--as is smell."

Her gaze shifted to Levi, and she directly addressed him once more. "That's why you couldn't sneak up on me until I was in the Underground. Then I was distracted and blocking out the smells around me. Normally, though, you have a very distinct scent--not bad, just distinct--that I grew accustomed to picking up on. And sometimes the breeze carried it even further.”

Bold of her to address him. As he listened to her casually discuss her abilities and killing people, his expression had darkened, scowling deeply. Sure, he could give way on the matter of having to kill to survive. He could see that much now--at least she had to in order to survive so she didn’t die a slow and painful death, or hurt someone innocent by accident. But how casually she discussed it, how flippant she sounded talking about taking life--that didn’t sit well with him.

Now, however, as she discussed all of these strengths of hers, all these advantages she had over the rest of him, there was something else that was nagging at the back of his mind. He remembered the exhilaration in her eyes when she’d killed that Titan despite the close call Eld had in that exact moment, and how he’d been concerned she might not be taking it seriously. Yes, she’d told him when he was still dying that she joined to help, her intentions there had been pure--she’d felt she could find purpose coming to the Scouts, that maybe the death that followed her just so she could survive could mean something if she dedicated her life and abilities to serving a purpose greater than herself.

Hmm...maybe she did take all the killing she did to survive seriously. It was hard to tell with her. She was so flippant and casual talking about it now, but back then, there had been notes of something...deep and unsettling in her voice. An emotion that didn’t quite have a word to go with it, but revolved around the knowledge of so many people dying so you could live, and wanting to make sure it wasn’t for nothing.

Shit, now wasn’t the time to be sympathizing, he had a purpose here--he was here to seek out any ill intent, and he had to shove aside the sympathizing for her plight or anything else that crept up for later reflection. Right now was the time to dig in and search no matter how harsh he got with his questions.

And his current concern was that the situation that was life and death, horror and tragedy for the rest of them, was nothing more than a game, a simple change of pace, mere exercise for her. From the sound of it, between her regeneration and all these enhanced senses, strength, reflexes, speed, all of it, it was like she was fucking invincible. There was no real risk for her like there was for the rest of them. All this struggle and sacrifice and suffering from the people around her, and she had nothing to lose, there was no real threat towards her, personally--she didn’t even have to put any effort into it.

Their life and death struggle was like a game to her.

It pissed him off the more he thought about it, until he couldn’t keep a lid on it anymore.

And her directly addressing him like that gave him the opportunity to let the first accusation fly.

Voice low and deadly, chilling as ice, Levi’s hard gaze drilled into her from where he was leaning against the stone wall of the dungeon. “It’s not even a real risk to you is it, going out there where the rest of us struggle, suffer, and die? Just a fucking game for you with how fucking invincible you are, from the sounds of it--”

Her eyes flashed, and her voice grew colder to match his chilly tone as she cut him off before he could get too far with his accusation.

“It’s still a risk for me, too. Maybe not as great, maybe I have a better chance, but it still would only take one wrong step. Unlike a Titan, I can’t grow back a full limb. I don’t age, but I can still die. Some deaths, okay, fine, I’ll come back from it. I’ll come back from a bullet to the brain, or suffocating to death, or a stab through the heart with a blade. I can’t come back from decapitation. Just one bite in the wrong place, and I’m just as fucked as anyone else in that situation,” she said bitingly, taking a deep breath to try and calm down, her tone losing some of its chilling edge as she continued. “It doesn’t help that my reactions play out faster than the ODM gear can function. While everyone else was learning how to properly operate the ODM gear and balance and react and all that, I had to focus more on slowing down for the gear than anything else, because if I react too fast at the wrong time, and the ODM gear skips something I was trying to do because I did it too fast, I could sail right into the thing’s arm or mouth. I might not have been putting in the same kind of effort in the same places as everyone else, but that doesn’t mean there’s not any effort being put in by me, doesn’t mean that I don’t have to be careful as well, that there’s no risk. Hell, one of my greatest fears is something catching that necklace and causing it to come off in the middle of the day on an expedition. I’d be fucked, dead in seconds with no shade for protection. There’s risk for me, too, even if it's a different kind of risk.”

While Levi put her monologue aside for later to mull over, letting it soothe his concerns that she wasn’t taking the expeditions seriously for the time being, Erwin leapt for the reins of the interrogation again.

“So far you have given the impression of invincibility, though. His concern is justified,” Erwin said diplomatically, and she sighed, visibly calming herself down again.

“I’m not invincible. I have rules and limitations just like everyone else,” she mumbled, leaning her head back against the stone wall.

“Like?”

Her eyes flickered over to Erwin. “You can understand why I’m hesitant to be forthcoming about that kind of information.”

“Too bad,” Levi said flatly. “You agreed to talk and answer questions. If you don’t answer them, we’ll have to assume the worst.”

And if she wasn’t willing to tell them how she wasn’t invincible, they would have to assume she didn’t want them knowing how to stop her, which would mean she was actually planning something sinister.

“Vampire or not, it's never a comfortable thing telling someone exactly how to kill or stop you,” she mumbled, running a hand through her hair, an uncomfortable look on her face before she reluctantly began to speak.

“I already mentioned being out in the sun unprotected for too long can kill me. So can decapitation. A wooden stake to the heart for some reason kills a vampire. So does burning alive. I already said that I can’t grow back limbs--my regeneration is slowed down if I’m near death or haven’t fed in a while. Vice-versa, I heal faster when I’m well fed or I’m feeding. Oh, here’s a weird one--I can’t enter a living space for a human being unless I’m invited in. Community places that people rotate out of like inns or the barracks are a grey spot, I can go in there, but private homes, property, anything that is the private living space of a human being I can’t enter without being invited.”

Wait a second...She has to be fucking joking, right?

She was just in his bedroom the other day--she’d carried him back to his office, to his living quarters, without being invited inside. She’d been in and out of his office running errands for him.

But that first time, when she’d first been made an aid...he’d thought it was odd, but he’d assumed she was trying to be polite but had pushed it to annoying levels. He distinctly remembered how she’d waited until he had said the words come in before she entered his office for the first time. She’d been waiting for him to truly invite her in instead of making some vague noise or answering with a simple, yes, what, whatever it was he felt at the time. After that she hadn’t waited for another come in, she’d just entered his office like a normal person.

He’d had a safe space, a barrier she couldn’t cross between her and him, a place she couldn’t enter unless he allowed it, and unknowingly, he had thrown away that layer of protection. She’d been well aware that was what he was doing, too.

He felt like some part of his privacy had been invaded, knowing that she shouldn’t be able to enter his office and bedroom, but because of that one time he had invited her in without understanding the consequences, he wasn’t going to get that safe space back.

Her gaze wandered over to Levi, spotting the angry look on his face, and she jumped to her own defense before he could voice it.

“Before you get angry about me being invited into your office, I wasn’t exactly given much of a choice considering I was given a job where that protection barrier was going to come down at some point. How else was I going to be your aid if I couldn’t come into your office to deliver something or pick something up? The moment I was made your squad’s aid, it was something that couldn’t be helped.” She sighed. “It’s not something I’ve taken advantage of, and I have no intention of doing so in the future, if that makes you feel any better. But future reference--a good way to keep a vampire out and to maybe pick out a vampire, is to stay vague when letting people into your private spaces. Don’t outright tell them to come in--just imply it. A vampire needs specific, verbal permission to come inside, anyone else can just walk right in. It’s a good habit to have.”

“Anything else?” Erwin prompted before Levi could do anything more but sulk in the background at the revelation that he’d let a vampire into his office and now he couldn’t do anything to take that back.

“Yes--something rather major, actually.” She got up from her seat and walked over to the bars of the cell, leaning casually forward against them and centered her gaze, once again, on Levi. “Ever since Petra had me start making your tea, I’ve spiking it--”

He knew he should have thrown out that tea!

“How the hell is that supposed to be reassuring?” Levi fumed, cutting her off before she could finish. As if finding out about the being invited in thing wasn’t bad enough!

“Let me finish before you bite my head off,” she said with a slight scowl. “I’ve been spiking the tea with white sage. The reason I’ve been doing that is because it protects a person from vampires. It's practically poison to a vampire. It burns the hell out of us if it touches our skin, it's like swallowing acid if we consume it. Anyone who has white sage in their system, a vampire can’t safely bite. Ingesting it will cause enough pain to knock them out, if they ingest enough. At the very least it will incapacitate them long enough to try to bolt or fight back.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Why spike my tea?”

“Well, first of all, access. You're the one whose drinks I’ve had access to. Secondly...remember what I said about certain bloodlines being exceptional?” She let that comment hang in the air, staring at him until she saw realization spark in his eyes. His blood--his blood was one of the exceptional ones that would make her stronger if she partook. “An exceptional bloodline also means it’s harder to resist. I did it as a precaution. It’s a damn good thing I did, too.”

When she was trying to save his life. Her eyes, the noises she made, how much she seemed to be struggling, and yet she didn’t so much as lick the blood off her fingers. Because when she started making his tea, she’d made his blood poisonous to her so she couldn’t bite him, even if she lost control.

He...didn’t know how to feel about that.

As infuriated as he was at the thought of her purposely tampering with his drinks and violating the gesture of trust it had been to even allow her to make his tea by spiking his drinks, it had been done to protect him--and it already had protected him. Even if he hadn’t known it at the time.

It wasn’t like she could tell him she was adding white sage to his drinks to prevent her from accidentally killing him some day because his blood was too tempting to resist. She’d been trying to hide this whole other world, trying to keep her true nature secret--it wasn’t like she could tell him she was going to add white sage to his drinks to protect him.

Don’t think about it too much right now, just absorb the information and move on--how you feel about it can come later, he chastised himself again, once more shutting down the stirrings of sympathy for her that was egged on by these little bits of extra information they were receiving about what she’d actually been doing in the background all this time.

He still had to press some of her buttons to answer a few more questions. There were still a few questions he had, and he wanted to see how she would react under stress. If they could trust her to keep a lid on her emotions and keep from losing control.

That seemed to be a running theme for her. Control. If she couldn’t keep control of herself, someone could end up seriously hurt.

He’d already almost bled to death in front of her, so that was one trial by fire she’d already passed. However, he wanted to test out a different kind of self-restraint. From the sound of it, with all these abilities of hers, she could accidentally kill someone in a fit of rage.

So...did she have enough discipline to keep a tight grip on her own leash? If anyone was going to test the theory, he was probably the best person to do so, and now was the time.

Keeping that cold and indifferent exterior he’d kept up through this entire discussion, Levi spoke up after a few moments of silence passed, likely from Erwin giving Levi a chance to pursue the discussion about her spiking his tea.

Levi was about to derail this entire interrogation.

"You sure know how to paint yourself as the well-intentioned victim.” Levi’s chilling tone echoed around the suddenly silent dungeon, his gaze boring down on her without a hint of the sympathy that kept getting stirred up from hearing about the situation she was in, the way she viewed things. It was just cold indifference he was projecting towards her. “The only problem is, I don't think someone who isn't above slaughtering her own best friend is anything close to a victim, let alone someone to be trusted.”

She stiffened as he brought up Victoria, her own demeanor rapidly shifting away from that casual posture she’d been keeping this entire time to someone who was ready for a fight. Levi kept pressing on, sensing he might have found what he was looking for.

“If you're not above that, how the hell are we supposed to take your word for any of this? How could we possibly trust anything you have to say?"

Her posture was rigid, eyes holding anger and her teeth grit even as she tried to take a calming breath and answer in an even tone. Erwin, meanwhile, was giving Levi a sidelong look, trying to glean what Levi hoped to find by so clearly antagonizing her.

“I get that you're doing your job and you’re trying to figure out the kind of threat I pose, I get that you don’t trust me and you’re assuming the worst, but for god’s sake ask instead of assuming you know something when you clearly don’t understand anything about it except what I tell you.”

Her eyes flashed dangerously at the end towards Levi, a bite in her voice most people wouldn’t dare to use when talking to him. Even behind bars, even when she was the one in the position to be interrogated, she didn’t hesitate to bite back, showing a surprisingly strong spirit despite that timid exterior she’d been projecting in public all this time.

He just needed to push a little further, and he could probably coax a reaction out of her. Hopefully, she really was in control of herself and it wouldn’t result in anything deadly. If she didn’t have control of herself...well, hopefully the bars would delay her enough to allow him to react fast enough and intercept her.

"It's a legitimate question. If you've been struggling with this violent nature of yours since you were born, and you've already hurt people like Victoria, what’s to say you won't hurt anyone else? That you won't snap, lose control--that we won't be next?"

Bringing up Victoria by name was like he’d said some kind of trigger word. Her voice dripped with freezing venom, even as deep-running hurt flashed in her eyes, proving that she was, in fact, lashing out.

He finally found a button that set her off, information spilling out of her in a torrent of unbridled emotion stirred up by his brisk, accusatory statement.

"Vampires aren’t born, Captain, they’re made. Which means a few decades ago I was just as human as you. Just a regular carpenter’s daughter living in Wall Rose in a no name town, where I probably would have married, had kids, and died in obscurity if I hadn’t been caught in the rain one night and crossed paths with the worst person I could have stumbled upon."

Her cold voice paused, all that chilling intensity focused on Levi and Levi alone, Erwin temporarily forgotten amidst the verbal back and forth they were caught in. Her words were meant for only him, and she didn't hold back on any perceived courtesy anymore.

“Do you know how a vampire’s made, Captain? It got mentioned when we talked briefly after you woke up," she said in an almost mocking tone to go with her rhetorical question. Realization was stirring in the back of his mind as he remembered what that risk had been in saving his life, but she pressed on before the full implications of that fact could settle in. “A human being has to die with vampire blood in their system. And then they have to drink human blood to finish the transformation. I may not know the specifics, if you have to be dead for a certain period of time before the blood makes you a vampire instead of just heals you, if you have to drink from a human in a set time limit--I don’t know any of that. I didn’t get an explanation. There was no induction, no passing comment, not even a hint that I wasn’t human anymore. I woke up unable to remember the night before thinking I was simply sick after catching a cold in the rain, and I went to my parent’s house because it felt like the kind of sick I wanted someone to keep an eye on me for in case it got really bad.”

Details of that "double homicide" flashed in Levi’s mind rapidly, and he felt sick to his stomach as the missing information she provided started to fill in the gaps and bring the larger image into focus in his mind. As schooled as his expression was, she was staring at him so intently that the realization in his eyes didn't escape her notice.

“Now it’s clicking. That night before the double homicide Y/N Frazier is now famous for in that town? I was murdered. And because I had no explanation or understanding of what was happening to me, I didn’t know to stay away from the people I cared about. So when Victoria came to visit me…”

She swallowed and looked away when her voice wavered at the end, trying to hide the sudden flash of vulnerability and remorse that came with a haunting memory.

But then her eyes flashed again, and she glared at Levi from the other side of the bars.

“So no, Captain, I didn’t ask for this, and it's not as simple as being born like this. It was done to me. I never had a choice. Maybe try to keep that in mind in the future when you’re fishing for answers instead of blindly accusing me of something.”

Well aware that he’d crossed some kind of boundary after that acidic spiel from her, Levi refrained from poking at what happened that night any further. He needed to back off that subject--a lot of these subjects, actually--and do some thinking before he said anything else.

As for the interrogation...

One more push, one more time antagonizing her, and he’d back off if it didn't yield anything.

"You still haven't answered my question," Levi said curtly. And she hadn't. Instead of answering if she was a threat to them,, she'd gone on a long-winded spiel about her past and how he was making wild accusations.. "All the good intentions in the world won't change the fact that you're a threat to us. Are you?"

She made a noise of frustration, teeth grinding together in a barely restrained growl of frustration before she stepped back from the cell bars, snapped the chain on the handcuffs without a second thought, clawing the cuff parts off like wet paper and letting them fall to the ground. Levi straightened up from the wall as she reached for the bars of the cell, stepping in front of Erwin protectively with his arm held out in warning as she bent the bars aside to step right through with a bit of bending and wiggling. Behind his back, Levi had drawn a knife and was holding it firmly in hand, even if, given the information they’d just received, it wouldn’t do much long-term good. But it could at least slow her down.

She didn’t move any closer, but Levi wasn’t assured--if anything, he was on edge now, heart rate picking up as they stared each other down.

“Yeah, that’s reassuring--so you’re an unpredictable threat,” Levi said scathingly. His grip shifted on the knife, flipping it around to a more comfortable position and a better grip he could use to lash out quickly and without warning. Erwin shifted slightly behind him, but considering Levi couldn’t see him with his attention focused on L/N, he didn’t know how Erwin was reacting to the situation besides that slight shift after seeing Levi’s grip showing he was ready to act.

“Because I am.”

That...was not an answer he’d been expecting. His head tilted slightly to the side, eyebrows raising. She didn’t look like she’d suddenly gone crazy. If anything, she just looked exasperated right now.

Throwing a hand aside as if to gesture to the hole she’d just made in the cell bars, a short, bittersweet laugh escaping her. “Fucking hell, don’t ever treat a vampire as anything less, because if they are a threat and you give them the benefit of the doubt, its too late. I get the reaction and intention to treat me as nothing more than a monstrous threat, it’s a healthy reaction, it’s a reaction that would give you a chance against a vampire that didn’t have good intentions, which is most of them. But if I was really after you I would have just done it and left by now. I wouldn’t be wasting my time sitting here giving you the best explanation I can muster and enduring the accusations. And I wouldn’t be going to the lengths that I have to take the necessary precautions to make sure I don’t accidentally hurt someone ever again, especially someone in the Scouts.”

Levi’s grip on the knife behind his back relaxed, and he slowly started to slide it back into its holster, both him and L/N taking a few breaths in the tense silence and gradually calming down from the mood that had tipped towards explosive.

“Look…” she said in a sharp exhale, gaze sliding between Levi directly in front of her, and what she could see of Erwin behind him. “I can’t tell you that I’m not a risk, because it would be a lie. Your question shouldn’t be am I a risk, but am I a risk you’re willing to take. If not...I’ll go quietly, try to find another purpose, I guess. But I would like to stay, and do what I can, here.”

Behind Levi, Erwin got to his feet, putting a hand on Levi’s shoulder as a silent way to tell him to stand down for the time being, stepping up to the woman in front of them, studying her head to toe. She let him do so, meeting his gaze unwaveringly despite its intensity.

“Levi, let L/N here have her necklace back. I think I’ve heard all I need to for now.”

Levi didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate, didn’t so much as give Erwin a sideways glance. He simply pulled the necklace out of the pocket he’d stowed it in, holding it out for L/N to take. She did so hesitantly, looking between Erwin and Levi with an unsure expression on her face, like she wasn’t sure if it was a trick or a test.

“Go back to your duties--I’m sure the rest of Levi’s squad has plenty for you to do while we make our decision,” Erwin said simply, turning to Levi and nodding towards the exit of the dungeon to signal that they were going to leave together.

“I’ll...fix the bars, first,” she said awkwardly, standing in place as they turned to leave like she didn’t know what to do with herself, necklace still in hand instead of around her neck.

She was just as socially awkward as she was sharp when she needed to be. Underneath that timid hesitation when it came to being around people, to trying to be a part of society again, there was one hell of a strong personality. It was like being entranced by the delicate petals atop a rose and then realizing when you wrapped your hand around its stem just how thorn-covered it actually was.

That’s what she was. Not an enigma--a rose, one with soft but vibrant petals and leaves, but sharp thorns running all the way down the stem that wouldn’t hesitate to pierce skin and draw blood.

Erwin turned to give her a small smile, adding in the slightest nod. “Please. A cell with a hole in it doesn’t do us much good,” he commented humorously before leading the way for him and Levi out of the dungeon.

Now he could let himself consider everything he’d heard. And he could already tell it was not going to be easy.

In his mind, the decision between whether or not to let her stay was made. What was left was to process everything they’d learned and figure out how to move forward. And in Levi’s case, how to make reparations.

Next Chapter---->

Levi Tags: @humanitys-hottestsoldier @clary-quinn @sunny-flo @whalerus @thirstyforsometea

Wings in the Dark Tags: @regalillegal @animeluver23 @theshylittleelfgirl @queenthorin1 @dilucs-thighs @sociallyanxiousmouse@subtlepjiminie @hakunamatatayqueen @queenofcurse @linxiajei17

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i-dont-want-your-hysteria · 3 years

Text

Take It Easy (Rick x Reader)

(illustration by @paper-sxn as always)

Words: 1,520

Prompt: March 1983, you’re a crewmember for the Pyromania tour, and you come down with carsickness one day. To top things off, it’s the same day the crew’s bus has a special visitor...

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March 1983

Being on the road could sometimes bite you in the ass. It was a cliche thing to think, and you knew it- despite it being undeniably true. You loved traveling with infinite perks, but as for your finite troubles... there was much to be desired.

You nagged yourself with this mantra as you lay curled up and half-dead in your bunk. It was all you could do while your body protested against the feeling of being in motion for so long. The gentle hum and rumble of transportation was normally a lullaby, oddly enough. It definitely seemed to contradict itself in your current predicament. What a talent the tour bus had for lulling you to sleep and sickening you at the same time.

Carsickness didn't affect you that often- plus, it hadn't even happened on tour at all yet!

“Why would this occur now- especially now? That’s just me and my goddamned bad luck...”

And lucky you, indeed. Of course you got sick at the most inopportune time; when the band's drummer decided to hop on the crew’s bus for a while.

You weren't getting as close to the band as you wanted to, and this opportunity would've been nice- had you not felt under the weather out of the blue.

All you wished was to sleep off the nausea and dizziness without making a fool of yourself in front of Def Leppard's drummer- the wild and free and funny Rick.

If it'd been any other member, maybe there would have been less pressure. Unfortunately, you had a history with drummers, and Rick was a young rock star in the purest form. The beat seemed to follow him wherever he went, and those curls you spotted on the bus told no lies. His formula of being a little crazy, a little willing, all laughs, and all smile had you instantly yearning to meet him.

He got along splendidly with the crew (as his brother was a part of it), and seemed so untouchable and out of your league for friendship. It was a little painful. It should've been easy to talk to him, as you were friends and fellow crewmates with his brother Robert, but the social line between band and crew felt thick to you for some undefinable reason. Still, this was supposed to be your opportunity to maybe start befriending the band. Instead, you didn't want to be a drag (or throw up in front of Rick), so you drew your curtain back, curled up under your blanket away from the commotion, and privately tried to wait out the sickness of travel. The heaviness of your body needed to ease up before you made any first impressions. You were too sick to care about taking advantage of this opportunity. If only you could get some shuteye and skip ahead in time to when you'd feel better. Your head turned into your pillow and let your thoughts cloud your ears instead. The motion of the bus made you feel as if you were floating for so long that you weren't sure if you'd fallen asleep or not. Being warm and shrouded in the darkness of your bunk made the rest of the world cease to exist. When you finally realized you may have been sleeping, you were conscious again. You didn't know how much time had passed, and you didn't know if you were feeling any better at all. The only thing you did know was that someone was trying to get your attention.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" an unfamiliar voice gently sept into your bunk. Your eyes opened to see some light coming through; the curtain must've been pulled back somewhat. Rolling over, you came face to face with Rick. He was crouched and holding the curtain back, peeking his face in only a little. You jumped at the sight of him being so close, but sunk back down immediately after. "What's going on?" you rubbed your eyes as you grumbled at him. You did your best to sound polite and not grumpy. "Nothing's goin' on," Rick assured you, "But you've been in here a while and we're wonderin' if you're okay, is all." Still tired and still sick, you didn't have the time or capacity to consider what he was saying. When you came to think of it, you did hear Robert and someone else murmuring some quiet, possibly concerned remarks about you just before you dozed off, but you weren't too sure. Perhaps Rick was part of that exchange. Instead of asking him if he was, you answered on your impulse, "Yeah, I'm alright. I've been carsick before, and it decided to hit me today." Your stomach gurgled uncomfortably, resulting in you wrapping your arms around your abdomen. You rolled back away from Rick, facing the wall with a whine, "But thanks for checking in." "You don't look so good," he remarked, "Do you need anything?" "I need a bed that isn't moving. Or at least one that's a bit more comfortable." What you really wanted to say was that you needed a hug, and that you didn't want to bother him, but you were still trying to make an impression. You figured the best you could do at this point was be polite and stay out of Rick's way. There would be other chances to bond with the band. "Well maybe I could help-" Rick's proposal was accompanied by the sound of the curtain being drawn back more, and the feeling of him climbing into your bunk with you. You tried to look back at him as he made his effort, "What are you-?" He plopped down beside you and huffed, "I just thought you could use some company to get your mind off things. I could leave if you want me to." Scoffing with a tired smile, you curled back up and turned away from him, "I don't mind, but you probably won't get much conversation outta me." Rick set the curtain back to its prior position, leaving you partially shrouded in darkness again, "Alright by me." Laying there in the narrow bed, you couldn't help but feel drawn to the warmth of him behind you. The last thing you expected was the band's drummer to climb into bed with you in a time of distress, but Rick took it upon himself to prove your judgement wrong. Turns out the friendship line between band and crew wasn't so thick after all. "You sure you're okay with being in here?" you had to ask in your grumbly tone, "I could hurl at any minute, you know." Rick's shrug was felt throughout the bunk, "Nah, I know you won't. Mind you, you seem like you could use-" The bus hit a bump, causing you both to bounce in the narrow space. Rick, in danger of rolling out, needed something to hang onto. In a blink of an eye, he was now holding onto you. "Shit! Blimey, that would've been a barrel roll outta here-" he chuckled, still clinging to you to make sure he wouldn't fall out, "Sorry 'bout that." "You okay?" you were giggling as well as he released his grasp from you. "I'm fine, I'm fine. How about you?" Apart from the humor of the situation, you told him nervously with a green face, "That bump didn't do me so good..." "Oh no- it's okay," he proceeded to reclaim his hold on you in an attempt to raise comfort. Almost humorously, he began slightly rocking you, "Just keep telling yourself 'I won't be sick, I won't be sick..." Your reply was a mere hum when you snuggled your face into the pillow, "You don't know how good it feels to be warm right now... it's rather nice... despite the circumstances." "Just take it easy and we'll be done driving soon," Rick sounded like he genuinely cared about your wellbeing- which was catching you off guard. His light that was being shed on the mood was such a comforting glow. He proved this further when he chuckled, "It's funny, I was about to say that you look like you could use a hug, anyways." "Wow," you giggled and softly shut your eyes. A big, bashful smile crept up your lips, "Somehow you read my mind." It was bizarre how Rick clicked with you right away. The ice that needed to be broken between you wasn't just broken; it was also melted and evaporated as well. You, personally, thought it strange how Rick's body seemed to feel instantly comfortable around yours, too. Who knew drummers could be so dexterous as well? The lullaby of the rumbling road caressed you both now, and the crew's bus sped on through the day. The trip was becoming a little easier now that you felt a bit more protected and cared for. It was amazing how backstage life unfolded sometimes. One second, you're an average crewmember, and the next, you're suddenly worthy enough to be spooned by a member of the band. Just like that, you had discovered one more of the infinite perks of being on the road.

------

(Take It Easy by the Eagles)

#always a song for every fic uwu #''so open up- I'm climbing in''#def leppard #def leppard fanfic #def leppard fanfiction #rick allen #rick allen x reader #def leppard x reader #rick allen fanfic #rick allen fanfiction #original content #fanfic #fanfiction

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celestialices · 3 years

Text

QUEST!

Greek Mythology x Haikyuu

Haikyuu!Ensemble x Reader

Summary: You were just a perfectly normal student at The University of Tokyo, when suddenly a bunch of 'normal boys', as they call themselves, appeared in your life and started to squeeze themselves into your life. Always saying something like "You're a goddess, we need to take you back to Olympus" (you brushed it off, saying that it was just a silly compliment) and even absurd sentences such as "You got Medusa's eyes" and "You're really Medusa's daughter!"

You really want a peaceful school year, but the universe beg to differ.

004: THE END OF A NEW BEGINNING

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To say that you were surprised by this outcome would be an understatement. Being childhood friends with Hirugami Sachiro, the university’s so-called “hottie”, is a pain in the ass. Though Hirugami’s a dependable best friend and dotes on you like an older brother, he’s a little shit. He teases you every time he has the chance to, but knows his boundaries. He never leaves your side too; always knows what’s on your mind since he is very “observant.” The biggest disadvantage of being his best friend, is his fans. Students flocking over you to ask questions about him was tiring. The only one that ruins your day.

It was bearing, at first, because you thought it’d be cute when you’re one of the reason why Hirugami has a lover. But you didn’t expect it to be.. like this. You had to hide often just to stop them. Ambushing you, preventing you from leaving the university’s premises, it was all too much. That’s where Hoshiumi Korai comes in. Your friendship with Hoshiumi is... mystifying. You didn’t even know how you tolerated being friends with him in the first place, but it surprisingly lasted up until now. Seeing that you and your childhood friend are indivisible, Hirugami arranged plans for you and Hoshiumi to meet after they became friends through volleyball. “Korai-kun, this is my childhood friend I was talking to you about. From now on, we’ll all be friends, so please get along!” Ever since that day, Hirugami pushed everything and made sure to schedule a hang out for the three of you, thrice a week. There isn’t a day during your high school years that you didn’t see Hoshiumi’s face, that’s all because of Hirugami. And yeah, that’s how the two of you got along somehow. Basically, what Hirugami has, you have to have it too. And vice-versa. But having Hoshiumi as your friend set out a vast of benefits for you. Not only he’s reliable and gives great advices (to your surprise), he’s quick to get irritated. And that managed to save yourself from the crowd plenty of times. His impatient self terrify a bunch of people, so you tend to stick by his side as long as you can.

The bond you three shared is as tough as old boots. People say that a friendship between three people would never work, saying that one is always left out. That doesn’t mean that you never had misunderstandings, hence you always manage it before it gets out of hand.

So where are they when you need them? Your legs are about to give up from squatting, hiding yourself in the bushes in order to escape Hirugami’s aggressive followers. You know you look stupid, but it’s better than to be chased by people, right? You checked your phone, seeing no reply from your friends made you want to cry. The text was an hour ago, meaning you’ve been hiding for an hour now. Just what on Earth are they so busy for that they can’t even check their messages?

You just wanted to go home, your mother and little brother, Yuki, are probably waiting for you. Classes ended two hours ago, so they’re probably concerned about your well-being already. It’s been quiet for too long, so you decided to look up. No fans sighted. Contemplating on whether to just run towards the gate, or stay for a few more minutes until hopefully, a good friend finds you. You let out a deep sigh, about to risk it all when all of a sudden someone shouted your name. Letting out a yelp before looking up from your hiding place, you desperately prayed for your life. Only to see Yahaba Shigeru waving at you. Well, at least he’s close to what you’ve asked for? Yahaba Shigeru, also a student at your university. A friend of a family friend. Oh, did I mention, an admirer of yours?

He is handsome, not going to lie. But he’s not really your type. Yahaba is a calm and carefree guy, but also a show-off. If you’re given a dollar every time he pried your attention, you’ll probably become the richest in Japan. “Hello, Yahaba-san.” You awkwardly greeted with a smile. Maybe after a few exchange of words, you’ll ask him to walk you to the gates. He probably wouldn’t mind, in fact, he’ll probably die of excitement. “Are you hiding from Hirugami’s fans again?” He chuckled, making you flustered on how he caught up so fast. It’s no secret that you’re the university’s source of information regarding Hirugami. It was embarrassing. “I’ll walk you home, if that’s okay with you.” Not wanting to turn down his offer, you instantly answered. “Oh, that’s kind of you. Sure.” You cringed a little for your fast response, he won’t think you’re eager to walk with him, no? You don’t really bat an eye at Yahaba, nor answer his advances. False interpretations of a friendly action would hurt a lot. This won’t take long, I can do this. Standing up, you grabbed your things and walked towards him. He offered to take your bag but you politely declined, thus the fiddly walk begins.

The stroll on your way home is noiseless, you were utterly astonished that Yahaba didn’t say a word while walking side by side. For far as you know, he isn’t like this; he always has something to say. You want to ask him how he’s doing, but too shy to do so. Your conversations are always one-sided, making you feel a bit bad. Nevertheless, you’re thankful. Relieved that your house wasn’t faraway from the university, you reached home in a span of minutes. You glanced at Yahaba after the both of you stopped walking, noticing that he’s already looking at you expectantly. Uh oh. You were afraid to ask him to enter with you out of respect, but he’ll agree no matter what. You just wanted to rest for now, unable to handle a guest in your current state. “Onee-san!” Thank God for Shibayama Yuki. Your eyes went from Yahaba to Yuki in a flash, looking at him with wide eyes. Begging to save you from this situation. “We have a visitor. Hurry up, Mom’s waiting for you.” He said, bowing apologetically to Yahaba. It took a lot of self-control to refrain yourself from smiling. Instead, you also bowed to Yahaba. “Thank you for walking me home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You grinned and happily marched towards your house. The house you live in was a basic Japanese one, its build is similar to the other houses, considering that you live in a private subdivision. It’s also big enough for the three of you, and enough for family friends to stay in. And it a nice house won’t compare to the family you’ve got. Your mother is a strong woman, she raised the two of you alone. Worked hard to give you and Yuki a lovely home, three meals a day, and all the basic necessities a mother should provide. Anything you ask for would be given in less than a day, sometimes you think she’s spoiling you too much. But in reality, you know she just wants the best for the two of you. She’s amazing. As for your brother, Shibayama Yuki, he’s a bit shy and gentle. He often likes to keep it to himself, but managed to have a friend. Yes, he has only one. It worries you but he assured that one true friend is enough. He’s also into volleyball, a very hard-working and determined “libero” of his team. Shibayama helps you in anyway he can, always acting as the older one by protecting you from the world. Conclusion, it was perfect. You consider this all as a blessing, you’re grateful for the life you have. Every once in a while, you question yourself on what you did on your past life to have a life like this. Placing your shoes on the shoe rack, “I’m home.” You say out of habit and glided to the living room. You were greeted with a frowning mother and the visitor Shibayama told you about, having a serious conversation. “You’re here!” “Yahoo!” Oikawa entered the chamber, immediately smacked by Iwaizumi for breaking the silence and made everyone flinch by his sudden appearance. “Iwa!” Oikawa whined, he doesn’t understand why Iwaizumi consistently hit him, and why he doesn’t ask him to stop either. “Shut up, Oikawa!” Iwaizumi hissed. How can he be so slow-witted at times when he’s the son of Athena? “I just wanted to up the atmosphere!” Oikawa whisper-shouted. Iwaizumi only sighed, already used to his attitude. Currently, the chosen deities for Zeus’ quest (minus Sakusa) are gathered together. They’ll be promptly briefed on what to expect, what to do, and their responsibilities to solve this problem before it grows. This is the first time the deities encountered a major problem that needed the superior gods’ inclusion. Of course everyone will be terrified! Is Medusa’s daughter really dangerous? They don’t know anything about her, it’s safe to assume that she is. And what’s more terrifying is that no one in the Twelve Olympians noticed a powerful aura in Earth. They’re watching humans from time to time, how is that possible? Is Medusa’s daughter more powerful than Zeus? That’s not possible. But then again, they live in a strange world with thousands of possibilities. Oikawa counted the amount of deities present in the room. Ten. He frowned, did someone refuse to participate in this quest? It should’ve been thirteen as far as he knows, and Sakusa is already in Earth. “Who didn’t chose one?” Eyes were landed to him. There he goes again. Iwaizumi exhaled, Oikawa is rather weird. One moment he's bubbly and often tell cheerful remarks, next he's saying or asking confusing and alarming words. “What do you mean?” Akaashi Keiji, son of Ares and Aphrodite, sent by war-god Ares, asked. He’s flustered by Oikawa’s sudden question, totally not understanding it at all. Akaashi is a soothing and composed god. He’s also blunt, calling out the deities on the foolish acts they do. He analyzes everyone and got a hold of their personality, but could never seem to know what’s going on in Oikawa’s head. “Kuroo is visiting Asami at the moment.” Kita Shinsuke, chosen by Demeter, answered. “As for the thirteenth representative, I don’t know either.” He added, also confused on why there’s only twelve of them. Kita doesn’t sugar-coat his words, making a lot of deities afraid to hear his comments. He is straightforward, giving precise answers only. He also does what needs to be done, no one can sidetrack him. His mature way of thinking resulted to him becoming one of Mt. Olympus’ pillars, everything he worked hard for will eventually lead to a something extraordinary, just like Demeter always says. “I heard Hephaestus didn’t send one.” Ojiro Aran, representative of Zeus, replied. Aran is also one of Mt. Olympus’ pillars, an intelligent and a fully-fledged god, that’s what he is. He often solve everyday problems in Olympus along with Kuroo, especially the twins’ mess. Aran is a very reliable god, he’s one of those superior gods everyone looks up to. People often compare him to Zeus, saying that he should ascend the throne as he is the best candidate for it. “Isn’t that.. illegal?” Suna Rintarou, sent by Hades as a form of punishment from sneaking earlier, questioned. He’s a bit lazy sometimes, but also rebellious. Only he can do that. He appears to be a quiet and nonchalant god, but Suna is expressive to his thoughts; saying what he wants to say that often gets him in trouble. If only this wasn’t a serious situation, they would’ve laughed at Suna’s question. His comments are humorous. “I asked Ennoshita about it, since he’s the son, you know? But he said Hephaestus didn’t say anything.” Sugarawa Koushi, son of Hebe and Hercules, chosen by Hestia, shared. Under his calm and gentle personality, he’s actually a mischievous god. Overall, he’s one of the helpful and kind gods, and one of Hestia’s trusted servants of Eophertia. The representatives chosen are mostly the ones who’ve passed a year or more after getting their blessing. The only ones that came from this year’s batch were Kageyama Tobio, son of Aphrodite and Himeros, dispatched by Aphrodite due to his formidable dedication, and Kunimi Akira, sent by Hermes and will act as the messenger between two worlds.

Not too long after Oikawa entered, the doors of the chamber opened again, revealing Kuroo Tetsuro in his glory. He walked with confidence, sitting in the center as he is “the son of Zeus and Hera.”

“Finally, you’re here.” Komori Motoya, a descendant of Apollo but lives with Artemis, spoke. He was sent because he’s the only one who Sakusa talks to, and everyone likes him. A friendly and outgoing god who encourages a lot of deities. Who wouldn’t like him? “Sorry.” Kuroo apologized. Short and straight-forward. “Asami’s doing well, if you’re wondering.” Kuroo is serious when it comes to conflicts in Mt. Olympus, but he’s usually a laid-back god who likes to provoke others. It’s like the amount of tension lessened after what Kuroo said. They’re all dying to visit Asami too, if only she was placed in Eophertia, things would’ve been easier. “Anyways!” Oikawa interrupted. “Do we even know where to search? There’s a thousand places on Earth! How would they expect us to finish this quickly?” He complained. Obviously pressured on the amount of expectations given to them. “Agreed,” Kunimi spoke, pretending like his father doesn’t have anything to do with this. He could ask him, but he’s certain Hermes will just mess with him. “If the Twelve Olympians weren’t aware of a deity wandering on Earth for the past 18 years, what can we even do?” “I think Sakusa already encountered one.” Komori announced. Glances were thrown on him. And a chorus of “what” and other incoherent words were followed. “I think! I’m not sure!” He shrieked, distressed at the stares he’s getting. “Quiet down.” Athena suddenly engaged in the conversation. Everyone looked at her, confused at how she suddenly appeared in the chamber without anyone noticing. The power of a goddess. “Yes, we were informed that Sakusa Kiyoomi run into one, but he wasn’t sure. Still, we’ll start from there.” She declared. “How..” Akaashi mumbled. But didn’t mind to continue it, at least they’ve got a good start. “Where is it, Mother?” Oikawa asked. Cliffhangers are undoubtedly not his thing. “Tokyo, Japan.”

THE TWELVE REPRESENTATIVES

Ojiro Aran - son of Zeus and Mnemosyne.

Kuroo Tetsuro - son of Zeus and Hera.

Iwaizumi Hajime - son of Poseidon and Amphitrite.

Suna Rintarou - son of Hades and Persephone.

Sugawara Koushi - son of Heracles and Hebe.

Kita Shinsuke - son of Demeter.

Kageyama Tobio - son of Himeros and Aphrodite.

Komori Motoya - son of Aceso.

Sakusa Kiyoomi - son of Hygieia.

Oikawa Tooru - son of Athena.

Akaashi Keiji - son of Ares and Aphrodite.

Kunimi Akira - son of Hermes.

A/N: Hello! I wrote this instead of studying for my exams later, it’s a bit short but longer chapters will come :)) Forgive me if there are a lot of typographical errors, I was suffering from a writer’s block while writing this, I don’t know why. Notes, reblogs and comments are really appreciated! It motivates me whenever I read some reviews :D I’ll probably update again two days from now unless my brain acts up again. Please look forward for it. If you have some questions or wanting to be added to the taglist (or chat with me!) please send an ask <3 Thank you for reading!

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kalimagik · 4 years

Text

As Family the First Time

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Includes storyline of “A Hogwarts Mystery”

Word Count: ~4K

A/N: Here is the Charlie post that I promised you all! I already wrote it, so it was easy for me to edit and such just to upload. If you enjoy reading, like, reblog, comment, or give me a follow! I have a few requests that I will get to writing, but I’m away for the week, so I will write them when I get back home! (Don’t you worry! I got some good ones too!) I’m also starting to edit my long fic that will be a Harry Potter Series! So be on the look out! Happy reading, loves! <3<3 P.S. I didn’t really have time to edit this, so I apologize 😅

“Are you sure you want to do this, love? It’s always so crazy at home.” Charlie questioned as the couple prepared for their journey from Romania to England.

“Charlie, I’ve told you a million times. I can totally handle your family. I’d been there a few times during our school years. Plus, at school, I spent time like half of your siblings anyways! Bill was there for our first 5 years and one of my good friends. Percy was Percy. And I even befriended the twins! I can totally handle this. Why do you doubt me?” Y/N laughed, tossing a sweater into her suitcase.

“Okay, you got me there, but it’s gotten even crazier. Ronald’s friends are almost always there and the twins have gotten even more chaotic since their first two years at school!”

“Charlie, do you not want me to meet your family as your girlfriend or something?”

“Yes– I mean, no. I just like to have you for a little more to myself in that aspect.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. She’d been in Charlie’s house during school and they’d gone on the craziest adventures while Y/N broke all the cursed vaults. She’d been very close to following in Bill’s steps as a Curse-Breaker, but was pulled towards dragons after practically raising a Welsh Green and visiting the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary with Bill on assignment. They were magnificent creatures.

Now, she didn’t work with them like Charlie did. The boy was constantly covered in cuts, bruises, scars, and burns from working so closely with the dragons. Y/N on the other hand observed and took notes and did research surrounding all of the different ones. However, there was one dragon that both of the dragonologists shared a bond with. The dragon that Ron wrote to Charlie about, Norbert or Norbertta, adored Y/N. Maybe since she was raised by Hagrid, she was a little better with humans, but she loved Y/N.

She’d laid some eggs and Y/N got to watch the entire process close up. It was a dragonologists DREAM!

Anyways, once Y/N and Charlie found themselves at the same dragon sanctuary, they reconnected. They’d always been good friends in school and maybe, there’d been a little spark between them, but they never dated or anything. Just an intense amount of tension in their last 2 years. It drove Bill mad because he wasn’t around enough to push them together.

But, here they were. 4 years out of school and they finally started dating, but for the first year and a half, they hadn’t gotten around to telling either of the families yet, so Christmas was the best time, right? That’s why they were packing, Charlie told his family that Y/N had moved to Romania and that her family wasn’t going to be around. And seeing as how she had holiday time at Christmas as well, Molly immediately invited her to their home at the Burrow.

“It’s about 4:30. The portkey is going to leave soon, so we should get going,” Y/N smiled, zipping up her bag and pressing a kiss to Charlie’s lips to get him moving.

“Now is your last chance to stay here, love. I’d of course stay with you and we could just make a family of our own!” he beamed.

Y/N couldn’t stop the loud laugh that erupted from the back of her throat. “WOAHHH! Slow your roll there. We haven’t even thought about an engagement yet!”

“Okay, maybe not, but who says we’ve ever done things in the right order? I mean, I kissed you before you even knew if you liked me or not.”

“True, but a kiss and a baby are two very, very different things,” Y/N giggled. “Now, common, we’ve got a portkey to catch!”

The couple made it to the location of the portkey where about 7 other witches and wizards were travelling to England. Once they reached England, they would then apparate to the Burrow. Simple.

“Okay, please grab onto the boot, it will be leaving in three…two…one!”

The pulling right behind her navel was never something she could get used to, but once landing in England, she’d gotten the hang of landing on her feet.

“I will never like those things,” she shuttered, picking up her bags. “Not when Rakepick took us on one and not now!”

“Really, I think it feels like riding a dragon! It’s blood brilliant!”

Y/N rolled her eyes, preparing herself for yet another uncomfortable experience as they prepared to apparate.

Regaining her balance once again, Y/N looked down the hill to see the Burrow standing brightly in all of its glory.

“I’m telling ya, this is your absolute last chance. We can always snag a room in London and spend the holidays there.”

“Charlie, why do you not want for me not to spend time with your family?”

“Not you, I’m just slightly selfish. I know the second we walk in, my mother is going to feed us. Bill is going to want to catch up. Ginny just loves having you around more than Fleur, so she’ll be right there. Fred and George will want to show you what they’ve been working on or flirt with you because they don’t realize you’re dating their handsome older brother and couldn’t care less about any age difference. They just see you as the badass girl who mum should’ve despised for all the danger Bill and I got into, but didn’t. Ron isn’t as much of an issue because the boy is in teenage moods according to mum. Although, if Harry and Hermione are there, he should be okay.” Charlie rambled on about his family.

“We’ll be here for at least two weeks, so if they take me from you for an evening or two, it’ll be completely fine. Oh look, it seems that they have seen us. Do you want to tell them we’re dating now or what?”

Charlie took in a deep breath trying to decide, but it didn’t have a chance to respond before Arthur, Bill, Fred, and George were calling out to them.

“I’ll find the right moment, don’t you worry,” he whispered. “Dad! Brothers!” he smiled, opening his arms.

“I’ll hug Y/N first!” one of the twins yelled.

“Fred! I called the first hug!” George quickly interjected.

“I do have the capabilities of hugging two people at once,” Y/N chuckled, opening her arms for both twins, who seemed to have doubled in size since the last time she’d seen them. “When did you two double my height?”

“Oh you know, a lot changes when you move off to Romania. Freddie and I have matured,” George informed her, straightening his coat.

“That’s not what mum’s last letter said. I heard you two blew up a bathroom. I bet McGonagall had a heart attack.”

“Charlie, we used to sneak off school grounds on a regular basis for dangerous adventures. She didn’t have a heart attack because of us.”

“Good point. Also, don’t talk about all that in front of Ron and his friends. Mum would kill me if I gave them any ideas. They put themselves in regular danger too, so I hear.”

“Yes, uh, no ideas would be excellent,” Mr. Weasley echoed. “Now, Y/N, how are you doing?”

“Dad, you took my question!” Bill smiled, coming in for a hug.

“I’m doing well. Hagrid’s dragon’s eggs just hatched and Norbertta has let me get near them. It’s been SO exciting!” Y/N smiled.

“Missing curse breaking at all?” Bill asked.

“I would say that I’m enjoying the quiet life, but like with dragons isn’t exactly quiet,” she laughed.

“So are we going to stay out here talking all night or are we going to head inside? I mean, Y/N/N and I are used to camping, but I was promised a warm bed,” Charlie pointed out.

“Right you are, Charlie! Fred, George, can you take their bags please. Y/N will be going to Ginny’s room. We’ll be a tight fit, but we’ll make it work. We always do.” Arthur instructed.

“Oh, dad, Y/N can sleep in my room. She doesn’t need to sleep on a cot. I’ll bunk with Bill.”

The two lived with each other already, so it would be weird to be in a room by herself for a few weeks. Who knows though, maybe if Charlie told about them being together,

“Is Fleur here, Bill?” Charlie asked on the way down to the house. Y/N walked beside him, so Charlie had to resist the urge to take her hand in his.

“She went back to France for the holidays. Wanted me to come with her, but when I heard you were coming home, I decided to hang back. Haven’t seen my closest brother in a while, not to mention one of my best friends from school,” Bill winked at Y/N.

“I’m excited to be back in England! I just wish my parents and brother would have decided to stick around. We could’ve gone to see them too!”

“We?” Bill asked, eyebrows raised, but a smirk on his face.

Y/N bit her lip. Shit. Little did she know that Charlie had spilled the beans to Bill months ago, making him promise not to say anything to anyone.

“Brace yourselves, Mum has been looking forward to this since you wrote home, Charlie,” Bill said, keeping the door open behind Arthur.

“Y/N! Charlie!”

The pair was hit by the warmth of the Burrow and Molly making her way around the table to them.

“I’m so happy you got here safe! PERCY! RONALD! GINNY! HERMIONE! HARRY! Y/N and Charlie are here! Dinner will be on soon!” Molly called right before wrapping her arms around Charlie and then Y/N.

“We’re so happy to have you hear, dear! I cannot believe your family decided to go on holiday over Christmas. No matter, we’re happy to have you back in our house. I don’t think you’ve been here since 3rd year! It’s been far too long.”

“I think 3rd year is when Bill brought Merula and I back for Christmas, but I saw you guys when Bill graduated from Hogwarts and when Charlie and I did,” Y/N thought back.

“Still, far too long! Ah, Ginny, come say hello!” Molly motioned over.

“Y/N! You’re here!”

Y/N opened her arms wide for the young red head. She was in her 2nd year already and Y/N couldn’t believe it. She’d always gotten along with Ginny. She saw a lot of herself and her spirit in Ginny.

“Hey squirt! How have you been! How’s school?”

“It’s fine. Been crazy all year as usual, but I’m happy you’re here!”

“Hogwarts is always unusual! Always was for Bill, Charlie, and I. Lots of adventure to be found in that place.”

“Hello, Y/N. Good to see you again.” Percy said formally.

“Hello, Percy. How is your last year at Hogwarts?”

“Busy. There’s been a lot going on!”

Before Y/N could respond, they heard Ron’s voice coming from the top of the stairs.

“Mum, did you say Charlie was home?” Ron asked, footsteps being followed by 2 other pairs.

“Yes, dear!”

“You’ll love Charlie,” Y/N heard Ron tell his friends. “And…Y/N’s here too,” he suddenly stopped at the bottom of the stairs, eyes wide.

Harry bounded down, running right into him. “Ow! Ron, why’d you stop?”

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle. Ron never seemed to know what to say around her.

“I’m Charlie.” He held his hand out to Harry and Hermione. “And this is Y/N. He went to school with me. She was in Y/H, not like it really matters though. She was the bloody best curse breaker Hogwarts has ever seen.”

“Hey!” Bill played offended.

Knowing what it felt like to be all anyone can talk about, Y/N did her best to remain normal around the Boy Who Lived, even though she couldn’t believe what he had been through already in his short life.

“Hi! It’s so lovely to meet you. Charlie has told me all about you two from Ron and his mum’s letters.” The two 3rd years shook her hand too.

“Dinner’s on! Everyone to the table please,” Molly said as plates flew from the cabinets to the table.

“Y/N, you can sit next to me here!” Fred hollered from down the table.

“Oi! She can sit here,” George retorted across the table.

“Knock it off.” Y/N could tell that Charlie’s voice was deepening, almost as if he was getting angry. He did say that he hadn’t wanted her to be taken away by his family. “She’s going to sit next to me, alright?”

Y/N did her best to conceal her laughter. It was always amusing when he got like this. Not to mention, Y/N then never had to do any teasing.

“I think I'd like to sit with Ginny. If anyone wanted to know what I would like,” Y/N laughed, walking towards her little friend. “We have a lot to catch up on! But, you can come sit beside me, if you’d like, Charlie.” She giggled.

Dinner went well. Ginny told Y/N all about what she’d been learning, who she hung around, which professors were her favorite, and how she loved Hogwarts. The twins went on about the best pranks that they had pulled since the last time they saw her. Y/N heard from Ron’s friend Hermione a little bit. She was as sweet as could be, but definitely a bright witch. She of course caught up with Bill. They still wrote to each other, but not as often as they had before.

But, when Molly stood up to clear the table, Y/N’s attention broke away.

“Oh, let me help you with that, Mrs. Weasley,” she offered.

“No, no! Sit down. You’ve traveled so much today. Bill and the other boys can help me. Ginny will show you her room, so you can get settled in.”

“Oh, mum, I told Y/N that she could stay in my room. I’ll bunk with Bill. There are already enough people in Ginny’s room. She should get some privacy,” Charlie responded.

“Fine, fine. Ginny, show Y/N where Charlie’s room is. Boys, will one of you get her bags?”

“No worries, Mrs. Weasley! I can get them myself! Thank you though,” Y/N smiled, picking up her two small duffle bags. “Lead the way, Squirt!” Y/N smiled at Ginny. Red spread onto her cheeks as she turned towards the stairs. What had Y/N said?

Y/N followed the red headed girl up the stairs to the 4th floor. A green dragon painted on the door.

“I’m guessing this is Charlie’s?”

“Uh huh!” Ginny beamed, her usual persona returning. “Want me to help you unpack your things?”

“Sure! Lead the way in!”

Ginny sat on the bed while Y/N took things out of her bags. She could sense that she wanted to say something, but didn’t know what to say, so Y/N started instead.

“Do you not like it when I call you ‘Squirt’ anymore, Gin?”

“Oh, no, no, no! I just uhhh….”

Y/N raised an eyebrow.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Ginny asked. “A secret that you won’t tell anyone else?”

“Of course! I promise I won’t say it to anybody,” Y/N smiled, sitting on the bed across from Ginny.

“I sort of, kind of have a crush on Harry. And when you called me squirt, I remembered that he was there and it probably made him look at me!” Ginny blurted out, like she’d been just waiting to tell someone.

“Squirt, you’re shaking! It’s okay to have a crush! Everyone has them.”

“Even you?”

“Yes, even me,” Y/N smiled, hoping she was calming the girl down.

“Who?”

Well, Y/N wasn’t expecting that.

“Can you keep a secret too?” Ginny nodded vigorously. “I have a crush on Charlie…”

Ginny’s eyes grew wide. Ugh, gossiping with a 13 year old was fun.

“Really? Charlie? I think you two could work. I mean, don’t tell him, but he’s had a crush on you for a long time.”

Y/N giggled, feeding into Ginny’s antics. “Oh really? How long?”

“I think he had one on you ever since he heard you fought the Hungarian Horntail. And then, when you went to the Dragon Sanctuary the first time, Charlie said you weren’t scared at all. I think he was mesmerized. You should tell him,” Ginny giggled.

“Wanna know another secret?” Y/N whispered.

“Another one?!”

“Well, it has to do with the same one. Want to hear it?” Ginny nodded. Hanging on to every word. “I did tell him,” Y/N smiled.

“You did? What happened?”

“We’ve been dating for a year and a half,” Y/N whispered, as though someone would be listening in.

“REALLY?!” Ginny squealed. “Why haven’t you told anyone?”

“I don’t know. We are just always in Romania and haven’t really seen anyone. It was fun being in our own little world. No one else in the world to worry about, you know?”

Ginny’s smile was huge! She was so excited she was nearly trembling. “Are you going to tell everyone? Is that why he said you could sleep in his room?” Ginny was blurting out questions left and right.

“We were going to tell everyone during this trip, but I don’t know when. I sorta left that up to Charlie.”

*Knock, knock, knock*

“How’s unpacking going?” Charlie asked, opening the door.

“Half done!” Y/N laughed, looking at her unpacked bags.

“What have you two been doing all this time?”

“Just chatting,” Y/N responded, a twinkle in her eye.

“Yeah, just chatting,” Ginny smirked, still not containing her excitement.

“Alright, Squint, what’s going on with you?”

“Y/N told me a secret and I can’t tell anyone else. She made me promise…”

“Oh, did she now?” Charlie asked, moving his focus to Y/N’s grinning figure.

“You can tell him, Gin. He’s in on the secret!”

Ginny essentially combusted. “YOU AND Y/N ARE DATING!” she yelled.

“Wooooah, Squirt. I said you could tell him, not the whole house!” Y/N laughed.

“Sorry,” Ginny blushed.

“Alright, now get outta here. I wanna talk to my girlfriend,” Charlie cooed. Ginny couldn’t stop giggling as she hopped off the bed and out the door, shutting it behind her.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Y/N laughed, picking one of her duffle bags off the ground.

“You blabbed!”

“Oh? I blabbed? How about the fact that you’ve definitely told Bill. I made the ‘we’ comment and he didn’t even question it! Don’t think I didn’t figure it out!”

“But you told Ginny. What would possess you to tell Ginny? She’s always been the blabbermouth!”

“No way she’s worse than Fred and George,” Y/N spit back.

“Okay, no, they’re worse. But you saw how she was when I walked in, she couldn’t keep it to herself.”

“Yeah, she also mentioned how you were mesmerized by me after we went to the Dragon Sanctuary for the first time,” Y/N winked. She watched as his freckles disappeared with the color of red growing on his cheeks.

“See, what did I tell ya! So, why did you tell her?”

“I can’t tell you. It’s a secret!” Y/N turned her nose up.

“She’s got a crush on Harry, doesn’t she?”

“How do you know?”

“Mum’s thought so since they first met. Ginny can barely say two words around him. It’s hilarious!”

“Don’t be mean! First crushes are hard!” Y/N slapped Charlie on the wrist.

“Tell me about it!” he rolled his eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“I had a crush on you since 2nd year and you had no idea. So obviously, the other person can be quite oblivious,” Charlie laughed, thinking back on it.

“I was not oblivious! I just wasn’t thinking about that. I was kind of busy avoiding being killed, remember?” Y/N pointed out.

“Oh no way! You went on your first date with Barnaby in our 4th year. And everyone had a crush on you!”

“Okay, but that was in school. Look who ended up with me, huh? Huh?” Y/N tried to direct him away from school time memories.

“True. I did get pretty lucky that you didn’t follow Bill into his job. I’d be so lost now!”

“Lost? More like dead. You’d have gone and tried to tame the meanest dragon in the place. Really, your family should be thanking me!”

“I don’t know. That could be payback for putting Bill and I in so much danger during school…”

“Merlin! I don’t think your mum ever blamed me for that. She still invited me for Christmas every year, no matter how much danger we were in…”

“mhmmmmmm, you may be right.”

“Should we go back downstairs?” Y/N asked.

“Wait, but I came all the way up here and haven’t kissed you yet!” Charlie pouted.

“Fineeee,” Y/N groaned before giggling. He was still pouting when she quickly pecked his lips and pulled away.

“Woah, woah, woah! I was thinking maybe a little more, maybe?” Charlie begged.

“Charlie, we’re in your childhood bedroom with your family downstairs.” She felt bad looking into his sad chocolate eyes. Ugh, why was he so cute?

“Uh, Charlie?”

“One more?”

“Do you think Ginny’s spilled the beans yet?”

Charlie’s eyes grew double the size. “We need to go.”

Y/N tried to stifle her laughter as Charlie pulled her down the stairs, going way faster than she was.

“Charlie! I’m going to fall over!”

“We have to make sure she hasn’t told them yet! I’m not ready!” Charlie shot out.

“Not ready to tell us what, brother?”

The pair came face to face with essentially the entire Weasley family, including Harry and Ron.

“I was just preparing to give everyone dessert,” Mrs. Weasley said, putting down a plate of food.

“Mum! Don’t change the subject. What do you have to tell us, Charlie?” George pushed, following the suite of his twin.

“Yeah Charlie, what do you have to tell them?” Y/N teased, standing right beside him and grabbing onto his hand.

“No!” Ron’s mouth dropped open.

“Merlin’s beard!” Fred spat out.

“Are you two…together?” George asked, big eyed.

“And I already knew it and didn’t say anything!” Ginny added in proudly.

“I hadn’t even said yes or no, squint. Thanks for the help.”

Y/N felt the grin on her face grow as she watched the interaction between a family that she adored so much. “Want to tell them then?” she pushed.

“Fine,” Charlie groaned. “Y/N and I have been dating.”

“Have been?” Bill scoffed.

“Oh, sod off. I told you like 2 weeks after it started! Don’t give me that grief!”

“This isn’t new?” George wondered.

“It’s been about a year and a half!” Ginny stated proudly, smiling at Y/N who nodded in return.

“A YEAR AND A HALF!?” 4 voices, one being Mrs. Weasley said in unison.

“Well, how did this all happen?” Mrs. Weasley now smiling rushed forward, pulling Y/N into a second hug for the night. “You’re with my boy. Oh thank goodness. I was really starting to worry that one day he was going to bring home a dragon!”

“Gee, thanks mum.” Charlie sarcastically replied.

“Well, tell us what happened,” Mr. Weasley encouraged. “You won’t get any peace and quiet until you tell this lot the story.”

“Yeah, not even I got the full story!” Ginny giggled, pulling out a chair for Y/N.

“Wait, wait, wait. Y/N. You mean to tell me that you have kissed our brother? The brother that has been in love with dragons since I was born and that used to dress our owl up as a dragon?” Fred asked, disgusted.

“What? He’s passionate,” she giggled.

“EWWW!” the twins replied at the same time.

“Wait,” Ron piped up, “you’re saying that you two just hang out all the time in Romania, working together and seeing each other…after work?”

“Well….actually….” Y/N dragged on, looking over to Charlie.

“We live together,” he grinned broadly for the first time since his family started grilling them.

“LIVE TOGETHER! Y/N no way. He isn’t even that great!” George blurted.

“I think he’s pretty fantastic actually,” Y/N blushed as Charlie stood behind her chair, placing his hands on her shoulders.

“Oh, Fred, George, be quiet. Let them tell their story! We want to know everything! Common, common! Everyone sit down. Have some dessert. Listen to Y/N and Charlie!” Mrs. Weasley commanded.

The room quieted and all eyes were on the newly outed couple.

“Would you like to do the honors?” Y/N asked Charlie.

“I like it better when you tell it, love,” Charlie grinned, kissing Y/N’s forehead.

Ignoring the groans from the boys, Y/N began to tell the story with Charlie interrupting way too often to add in details. Y/N didn’t say anything because it was just so cute how he did it. But, it turned out to be a really wonderful first evening of an even better two weeks. It was really just a great time to be back in England.

#kalimagik #new fic #harry potter #hp fandom #hphm #hphm charlie weasley #harry potter x reader #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #ron weasley x reader #weasley family #draco malfoy x reader #charlie weasley fluff #cute and fluffy #fluff #the burrow #weasleys

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wingsofkpop · 3 years

Text

Hiraeth - I.IX: Bloodborne

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatural!AU, Dark Magic!AU, heavy Angst, eventual Smut

warnings: Mature language, mentions of death and murder, violence, explicit descriptions of fighting, blood and gore, some satanic themes, mentions of trauma, etc.

word count: 6,5k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

“—so once Youngjae channels enough power from the blood moon tonight, he’ll be able to lower the veil between the Other Side and the physical plane long enough to resurrect your spirit into a mortal body.” You explain, glancing over your notes at the unusually quiet figure sitting on your bed. Something about his expression seems distant—almost sorrowful.

After your return from the hospital, and after the long chat with your roommate convincing her that your absence all night was due to a last minute work emergency, a certain ghost phased into your bedroom. You wouldn’t allow yourself to be this concerned, but during his visits, Jackson usually never shuts up. If you were all alone with no one to talk to, you probably wouldn’t either.

You lower your notebook and shake your head, “You haven’t said one word since you showed up. What’s wrong?”

Jackson purses his lips, as if nervous to relay the thoughts swirling through his mind. Another brief moment of silence passes before he finally murmurs, “It’s the witches. They’re starting to get suspicious again… I don’t know how long I have before they figure out I’ve been crossing over to this plane.”

“Then we’ll just have to bring you back before they find out.” You grab your phone from your desk, checking through your notifications to see if a certain siphoner has yet responded to your dozens of texts and calls. No dice.

You haven’t been able to reach Youngjae since yesterday morning, which is odd considering the guy is the type to respond within three seconds of receiving a message. It would be one thing if he let you know that he’s busy, but it’s complete radio silence. It’s not like Youngjae at all.

“You’re worried about something.”

Your eyes dartup at Jackson’s observation, discovering his concerned gaze focused on you.

“It’s Youngjae.” You sigh, “I haven’t heard from him, but I’m sure he’s just busy brewing potions or something.” You expect to earn at least a chuckle from the ghost, but his silence remains along with the blank expression along his face. His same distant demeanor also lingers, and this time, your concern grows to panic. “What is it, Jackson? What’s going on?”

“I didn’t want to say anything cause I was sure it was all in my head, but I feel that something is… weird.”

“Weird?”

“It’s hard to explain.” He continues, “But as a ghost, I can feel things around me… like right now, the universe just seems off—” His voice cuts out as he frantically shakes his head, “Anyway, I just want you to be careful. Mark used to tell me that disrupting the balance of nature is like opening Pandora’s box.”

“Yeah. We will be doing none of that.” You set your phone down before crossing the room to kneel in front of Jackson. A grin lifts to your lips as you hum to the ghost, “So what do you feel when you’re around me?...”

Jackson raises an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“You said you feel things around you… Do you feel anything special when you’re with me?”

You’re surprised at the eagerness that swells in your chest as he takes his time to think over your question. The inquiry was supposed to be a joke to lighten the mood, but you’re actually curious about your companion’s ghastly perceptions. After maybe a minute or two, Jackson sends you a small smile:

“I feel… light.”

“Light? What is that supposed to mean?”

“You have this aura around you.” Jackson affirms, mindlessly reaching forward thumb at your cheek. You obviously can’t feel his touch, but something in your gut tells you that if you could, you would feel nothing but warmth. “I feel powerful when I’m with you…”

“Is that a good thing?”

He grins, “I think so.”

You continue to stare at one another for a moment, almost attempting to read the depths in each other’s eyes. It’s not until a harsh knock resonates from the front door do you finally break the gaze, offering Jackson a final hum, “I’ll bring you back as soon as I can. I promise.”

Jackson nods, “I know you will. But like I said, please be careful.”

“I will. See you soon.” You wait for Jackson to disappear completely before exiting your bedroom, cursing Sana for leaving you to deal with whoever is incessantly banging on your door. It’s probably the old lady from across the hall wanting to borrow another cup of sugar. You roll your eyes at the thought and open the door, ready to politely decline your neighbor’s request.

Your words die on your tongue—definitely not the old lady from across the hall.

“Mark? What are you—?”

“What? Not expecting to see me?” Mark’s hostile growl takes you by surprise, as does the furious expression etched along his features. “That’s not surprising since you’ve been ignoring me.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Oh. I’m sure.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “What the hell is your problem?”

“You wanna know what my problem is?” Mark takes a step closer to you before pointing a finger in your direction, “The fact that you not only lie to me, but you go behind my back and then deliberately avoid me for days on end.”

“What are you even talking about, Mark?”

“I’m talking about you and Youngjae playing God and resurrecting Jackson.”

Your muscles instantly freeze, as if Mark had taken a tub of ice water and thrown it over your head. The annoyance inside your chest shifts to guilt, and your once cold features cannot help but soften.

You shake your head, “Mark, I—”

“Do you know how dangerous it is to bring someone back from the dead, (Y/N)?” Mark lowers his voice, but his tone remains as frigid as his gaze. “Do you know the consequences that happen when you fuck with the balance of nature?”

“I get that, but—it’s complicated, Mark… There’s things you don’t understand—”

“I don’t understand!?” He scoffs, “Last I checked, I’m the goddamn witch here, (Y/N)! You know nothing about magic and its sacrifice!”

“Maybe not, but I do know that there is a chance I could bring Jackson back!” You shake your head again, “Please, just give me a chance to explain—”

“No. Because it’s not fucking happening.” Mark interrupts, furiously shaking his own head. “I forbid you to do this.”

It’s like a switch goes off in your mind. Your guilt immediately transforms, but this time, it configures into rage:

“You forbid me!? Who the flying fuck do you think you are!?”

“I won’t sit back and allow you to get yourself killed—!”

“And last I checked, you don’t have the right to control what I do and the decisions I make!” You seethe, stepping further back into your apartment. “This is my choice. I’m resurrecting Jackson whether you like it or not.”

“Fine! Get yourself fucking killed for all I care!” The witch raises his hands in mock surrender. “At least then I won’t have to deal with your reckless, moronic ass!”

“Fuck you, Mark.” You don’t allow the witch to say anything further and slam the door in his face. Your chest remains unbearably heavy, both physically and mentally, but you ignore the sweltering emotions and begin to traverse around the apartment, gathering your bag and other assorted belongings.

A confused and rather concerned Sana emerges from her bedroom a few seconds later. “Are you okay? What was with all that yelling?”

“Don’t worry about it,” You huff, shoving your arms through the sleeves of your jacket. “Just Mark being a douchebag, as per usual.”

“Where are you going?”

“To find Youngjae.”

“Isn’t it kind of late?”

“I’m an adult, Sana.” You snap before throwing your bag over your shoulder. “Don’t wait up for me.”

Similar to Mark, you don’t allow Sana the chance to question you further and sprint out the front door, praying that Youngjae will be up to bringing Jackson back in the next few hours.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Mark has never exercised the greatest control over his emotions. It first began when he was twelve, after his dad walked out on his mom. He found himself sobbing his eyes out some days, and beating the shit out of other kids on others. His mood ranged from intense rage to extreme depression. There was no in between.

In an effort to help, his mom enrolled him in a program designed to teach teens how to handle their emotions. But to no one’s surprise, the therapy didn’t do shit and Mark continued to initiate fights and cry himself to sleep most nights. He never understood why he felt this way—he still doesn’t, to be honest. His dad and him were never close, nor did he ever really care about his sudden departure. Maybe he was just an angry kid with depression. Maybe it was something else.

It wasn’t until his mom was killed did Mark begin to pull his life together, which also happened to be around the same time he met the too-friendly, homeschooled kid with an ego the size of Jupiter, Jackson Wang. Sure, the two of them butted heads every so often, but with Jackson being a werewolf, Mark learned the importance of managing the chaos within. ‘Emotion is like a loaded gun,’ he remembers Jackson once said, ‘If you let yourself pull the trigger without first aiming down sights, then you risk sinking a bullet into someone you love.’ Those words remain with him—remind him what means to stay in control.

But when it involves the people he loves, Mark can’t always regulate the ticking bomb counting down in his soul.

An ache settles in his chest as he recalls the passionate fire in your gaze. There’s always been some parts of you that reminds Mark of his past friend, specifically your stubbornness and inability to think before you act. He’s never found himself hating those parts of you until now—and he shouldn’t, Mark knows that, but he’s so fucking angry and so fucking scared of losing yet another one of the most important people in his life.

He’s experienced his fair share of loss, but losing you… It would break him. Completely.

Mark tries to push the intrusive thoughts from the forefront of his mind and focus on navigating his way through the dark maze of headstones and crumbling tombs. Right after you slammed your front door in his face, he received a text from Youngjae summoning him, Jisung and Lia to an emergency meeting at the edge of the cemetery. He’s still mad at the siphoner for assisting with your reckless scheme, but he won’t allow his pettiness to interfere with the safety of the coven.

A sigh falls from his lips—he does regret ever saying those ending words to you though… because what if they’re the last ones you hear from him.

‘I’m so sorry, Jackson…’

Mark’s misery is forgotten when he notices a group of people up ahead. He recognizes Lia, Jisung and Youngjae flocked together inside a chalk-white circle surrounded by lit torches. For a moment, Mark wonders if they’re in the middle of performing some type of seance, but his curiosity dwindles into confusion when he grows aware of the panic present in each set of their features.

He breaks into a sprint to cover more distance, approaching the strangely placed trio in no time. At the sight of him, Lia immediately bursts into tears, furthering the anxiety bubbling at the back of his throat.

“What the hell is going on!?”

“Hyung! You have to get out of here right now!” Mark notices the swollen, angry flesh of Youngjae’s bottom lip as he speaks, along with the ugly bruise underneath his left eye.

“What happened?” He ignores the siphoner’s warnings, attempting to reach inside the circle and grab Lia’s arm. However, his hand is met with resistance—a boundary spell. “Who did this to you?”

Lia sobs, “Just go, Mark! Before he hurts you!”

“Before who hurts me!? What are you—” His demands die in his throat as another figure appears from behind a large, marble gravestone. He immediately recognizes the newcomer, which sends even more confusion through his veins. “Seo Changbin? What the hell is this?”

“It’s an emergency meeting, hyung.” Mark feels his entire body freeze when the familiar, conniving voice enters his ears. “You had me a little worried… I almost thought you wouldn’t show up.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Mark whirls around to face a smirking Minho cockily leaning against the wall of an empty tomb. “What kind of game do you think you’re playing, Minho?”

The younger witch shrugs before pushing off the wall to pace around the area. As he draws closer and closer, Mark can spy an ancient, navy blue ring sitting heavily on his forefinger. He’s never seen any piece of jewelry like it before, but something in his gut told him it wasn’t just a simple ring—and that he’s definitely in some kind of trouble.

“Mind explaining to me what we’re doing here? Or are you just going to continue pacing around the place like a cocky bastard?”

“Tonight is a special night, hyung… You wanna know why?” He watches Minho point to the night sky, “In just a few minutes, the moon will drift into the Earth’s shadow and the light of the sun will reflect across the moon’s surface, thus causing a blood moon… It’s actually pretty cool—”

“For Christsake, Minho—get to the goddamn point.”

“You know, for years I had to deal with all your bullshit excuses and justifications of putting our coven in danger—it was only a matter of time until one of us ended up dead, don’t you think?”

A bitter memory of Nayeon’s corpse resurfaces, but Mark remains silent.

“Everyone was too fucking blind, but I saw right through you.” Mark doesn’t move a muscle when Minho suddenly approaches, crowding his space until his nose is mere inches from brushing his own. The younger witch’s harsh glare bleeds into his soul as he continues, “You’re a poor fucking excuse for a leader, hyung—a leader who can’t even protect his own people.”

“And you think you can do better, huh?” Mark growls, glaring his own daggers into Minho’s gaze. “You have no fucking clue what it takes to run this coven… Admit it, you’re just pissed they chose me over you.”

“And look where that got them.”

“You need to cut out whatever petty bullshit this is and let Youngjae, Jisung and Lia go.” Mark murmurs, “Whatever problems you have are with me, so let’s just talk it out, okay?”

“Oh, Mark-hyung…” Minho’s gaze is unwavering from his own as he lifts a hand to rest on Mark’s shoulder. It’s a second too late that Mark realizes it is the same hand in which holds the mysterious ring:

“I’m over talking it out.”

Youngjae’s screams and Lia’s sobs echo in his ears along with the words that spill from Minho’s lips—they’re foreign, but Mark recognizes the spell right away. He tries to squirm and fight against the perpetrator’s grip, but another pair of hands keep his body in place—Changbin.

Bit by bit, Mark feels the buzz of his magic lift from his veins like a flock of doves. His limbs grow weak and his head fuzzy. Soon enough, his own knees no longer bear the strength to hold his weight. Once both Minho and Changbin release him, Mark collapses to the ground—empty and unable to rise.

“What did you do to him!?” Mark hears Jisung’s voice for the first time, although his brain is not fully able to comprehend the inquiry.

“I took his magic. He won’t be needing it anymore.”

Mark manages to find enough strength to reposition his body in a way that allows him to watch both Minho and Changbin approach a makeshift altar composed of an old, concrete coffin. Through the blur of his vision, he catches the witch stirring some kind of crimson mixture—likely blood. Minho looks to the moon, which is slowly brightening to a shade of maroon, before resting his gaze on his companion:

“It’s time.” He offers the mixture to Changbin, “Once you drink this, I can begin the transformation.”

“And you’re sure this spell will give me everything I need to take down the Primes?”

“One hundred percent.”

Take down the Primes?… Fucking hell.

“Minho! Don’t do this!” Mark can’t make out his own voice between the ringing of his ears and the beating of his heart, but he can only hope they’re audible enough for his audience. “The transformation—it won’t work!”

Youngjae shakes his head. “I don’t understand… What are you talking about, hyung?”

“He’s going to try to recreate the spell I used on Jackson on Changbin.” With a huff and a puff, Mark pushes himself to his hands and knees. He attempts to crawl forward, but the spinning of his head sends his body sprawling along the ground once again. He abandons any more thoughts of movement and speaks to Minho directly, “It will kill him—do you understand me!? You can’t—”

“You failed because you couldn’t draw enough power to complete the transformation.” Minho doesn’t even bother to look in his direction, “It will work—I know it will.”

Understanding there’s no possible way to convince the witch, Mark looks to the werewolf instead, “I’m warning you, Changbin! If you go through with this, you will die!”

“Don’t listen to him. Just drink the blood.”

“No! For fucksake, this is suicide!”

“Think of Jackson.” Minho murmurs to a torn Changbin, reaching across the altar to place a supportive hand on his shoulder. “Do it for him.”

“Changbin, don’t—!”

Mark watches in horror as Changbin throws back the mixture and downs its entirety in two gulps. His heart shatters like the glass vial the werewolf launches to the ground. He peers to his left, discovering the same shocked expressions across Youngjae, Jisung and Lia’s faces, and shakes his head in defeat as Lia begins to sob again.

“Filia maximo… Filia maximo… Morsus, morsus—” The wind begins to screech as Minho chants, tearing at Mark’s hair and nudging at his clothes, as if pleading for him to stop the spell. But there’s nothing he can do. For once, Mark is powerless. “—morsus… Advenio donec duo est revertus mors…” With a loud scream, Changbin collapses to the earth. He squirms and writhes in pain underneath the flaming light of the moon—and Mark can’t help but attempt to block out the snaps of his cracking bones.

The scene seems to last for hours until Changbin eventually grows silent. Mark takes the time to catch his breath, unable to control his lungs over the anxiety, fear and nausea lurking through his veins. He wants to look away from the still werewolf, but his gaze is as frozen as the rest of his body.

His eyes burn with tears of rage—Changbin is dead. Another person died because of his own fucking stupidity. Mark should have known this would happen again. He should have stopped it. He should have—

His thoughts disappear as Changbin suddenly gasps for air. For a moment, he claws at the earth as if attempting to ground himself, before he finally, albeit shakily, climbs to his feet. Minho cautiously approaches the wolf, peering down at the shorter male with a gaze full of concern.

“How do you feel?...”

“I feel…” Changbin flexes his fingers again, before closing them into tight fists. The moonlight illuminates the crimson glow of his irises and the sharpness of his long, black fangs as he faces the witch—a malicious smirk spreading along his lips as he chuckles, “I feel like kicking some ancient Prime ass.”

Mark can’t find the strength to watch anymore and allows his head to lower to the earth. Just before his eyes flutter shut, he swears he spots the movement of shadows from behind a nearby headstone. But before he can confirm his suspicions, his head takes one final spin and the world grows dark.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

June 13th, 1769 — As much as I enjoy the atmosphere of Paris, I believe it is time to progress onto another part of the world. Some of the townsfolk are beginning to grow suspicious, considering I appear twenty years younger than my supposed age. Nevertheless, I will not mind a new start elsewhere. Jaebeom, on the other hand, will be a terror to convince. As he claimed last time I brought the idea to light, ‘There will never be a place more beautiful than Paris.’

But I know he is not through playing with his newest toy—Tzuyu.

I set sail for the newlands tomorrow at sunrise. Whether my brother decides to accompany me or not is solely his preference. It would be pleasant to spend some time apart—to spend some time in peace—but I know, with many complaints and reluctance, Jaebeom will board the ship tomorrow. Wherever I traverse, he follows, and vice versa. We are family, after all.

I will miss Notre Dame the most. I have grown used to visiting the Cathedral and repenting my wrongdoings to the high priest. Of course, I am forced to erase his memory of our talks each time, but it is nice to confess. It lifts a weight off of the shoulders, takes away a small portion of the guilt. If there is a god, he would never allow a creature like me to walk amongst his heavens—but at least I can salvage the lingering hope left inside of my soul. Speaking of hope, I thought I saw a woman that resembled Irene during my daily visit to the church. I find it amusing that after all these years, my heart continues to yearn for her presence. She was truly special—I wonder if she ever thought the same of me.

I’ve heard some of the sailors refer to a shore in the newland that has yet to be claimed. It may be the perfect location for Jaebeom and I to start anew. I can only hope it is as beautiful as people say. Maybe I will construct a place of worship as stunning as the Cathedral.

Isn’t that ironic?... A vampire who believes in faith.

Jinyoung finishes the entry with a sigh, welcoming the nostalgia that spreads through his thoughts like an old friend. It seems just yesterday that he recorded his first thoughts about the land that would become Moon Dye Bay. He shakes his head, carefully setting the old journal back on the bookshelf.

He never did build that church.

“Reminiscing again, brother?” The moment is ruined when a certain hybrid’s snicker reaches his ears. Jinyoung rolls his eyes as Jaebeom takes residence beside him, dragging his fingers along the spines of Jinyoung’s other diaries. “We did have some great times back in the 18th century… Remember our battles during the French Revolution? I rather enjoyed King Louis and Marie Antoinette’s executions.”

“You enjoy anything that involves bloodshed.”

“Don’t be so resentful, Jinyoungie. It’s not my fault that the queen had you in her interests.”

Jinyoung shakes his head before retreating to his desk to fix himself a drink. “The woman was as shallow as a poor soul’s ego. She was taken with any man who’d pay her the time of day. It was a miracle her death came as quickly as it did.”

“Careful there. You sound like me.”

Jinyoung deliberately chooses not to respond to Jaebeom’s comment and proceeds to pour two glasses of bourbon. He ignores his companion’s wide smirk as he hands him one of the drinks. Both the vampire and the hybrid simultaneously take a sip, peering at one another over the rims of their cups. Jaebeom is the first to break the silence with a pleased inhale and a hum:

“You returned pretty late last night. I hope you used protection during your time with (Y/N).”

“Mind your tongue, hyung.” Jinyoung warns, “I brought (Y/N) to the hospital after the attack—I trust you took care of Tzuyu?”

Jaebeom smirks. “Of course. She won’t be alive long enough to target your newest Maria Antonia again.”

About to inhale another sip of his bourbon, Jinyoung pauses to mull over the answer. He lowers his glass to his side before delivering Jaebeom a confused expression and a murmured inquiry, “What do you mean she won’t be alive?”

“Tzuyu and I got into an argument and, well, she pissed me off.” Jinyoung watches Jaebeom down the rest of his drink.

“Please tell me you didn’t bite her, Jaebeom-hyung.” He curses at the widening of Jaebeom’s smirk, slamming his glass back down on his desk with enough force to crack its exterior. “When I told you to deal with her, I didn’t mean condemn her to a fate of pain. If you wished to kill her, you could have at least been merciful and done it quick.”

“Last I checked, you said it yourself not to be kind.” Jinyoung follows Jaebeom as he pours himself another drink and collapses onto a brown, leather sofa. He tips his glass toward him with a smile before continuing, “I thought the punishment fit the crime, and we wouldn’t want to put helpless, human (Y/N) in danger again, would we?”

“You turned it off, didn’t you?” Jinyoung realizes, “Does holding onto your humanity wound you that badly, hyung? That you have no choice but to wish it away?”

“If I remember correctly, I’m not the only one that can’t hold onto their humanity… How many people did you kill in the ‘20s alone? One thousand? Maybe two?”

Jinyoung shakes his head, “I’m not that person anymore.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” In the blink of an eye, Jaebeom is in front of Jinyoung—his glass in pieces on the floor beside him. He leans in until Jinyoung can taste the alcohol of his breath on his tongue, then whispers darkly, “You can lie to yourself all you fucking want, Jinyoung. But deep down, you’ll always know what you are… let’s just hope (Y/N) never finds out, hm?”

At the mention of your name, Jinyoung’s anger expands. He suppresses the urge to take the table beside him and smash it over the hybrid’s head, and instead inhales a deep breath. Jaebeom is only trying to provoke him—and he refuses to be a pawn in his foolish games.

“You will remember what it was like to feel human again.” Jinyoung sighs, “For your sake, I hope your remembrance comes sooner rather than later.”

Jaebeom tsks, “Being human is overrated.”

“He said the same thing about fate.” Both Jinyoung and Jaebeom whirl around at the appearance of a third voice. Jinyoung feels his blood begin to boil at the sight of the familiar vampire in the doorway, once again, suppressing his desire to launch a piece of furniture in her direction. “Ironically, fate and humanity are a package deal.”

Jaebeom growls, “What the fuck are you doing here, Tzuyu?”

“I came to try and convince you to give me your blood.” Tzuyu coughs, and Jinyoung swears he can hear the rattle of her bones. “But judging by your attitude, that’s obviously going to be harder than I thought.”

“You have courage for showing your face again.” Jinyoung crosses his arms with a dark hum, “Especially so soon after you nearly killed (Y/N).”

“It wasn’t my intention to kill her. I just wanted to send a message.”

“Is that so?” With a malicious glare, Jinyoung steps forward and tilts his head toward the vampire, “And what kind of message was that?”

“For (Y/N) to stay away from Jaebeom.” Another violent cough wracks through Tzuyu’s thin form, causing a light stream of blood to splatter from her lips. She wipes her mouth with a ragged breath before continuing, “Look, I did it for her own good. We all know his track record at keeping humans alive.”

“You did it to protect her!?” Jaebeom cackles, “Wow! That’s fucking priceless!”

“Say what you will, you both know I’m right.” Tzuyu says, propping herself up against a nearby bookshelf. “It’s either she ends up dead or is turned into a vampire—then again, there’s not much of a difference between the two, is there?”

“I would die before I allow (Y/N) to come to any harm.”

“The only issue with that is you can’t die, Jinyoung.” Jinyoung doesn’t take his eyes off Tzuyu as she grabs a bottle of brandy from the top shelf. It takes her literal seconds to unscrew the cap and down a good portion of the container. She licks her lips and says, “I’m sorry I attacked (Y/N), okay? I went too far. I won’t do it again.”

“You think an apology is enough to save your life?” Jaebeom snickers before snatching the alcohol from the vampire, “Think again, sweetheart.”

“What do you want from me, Jaebeom? Does seeing me die a slow, painful death bring you joy?”

He shrugs, “No one mourns for the wicked.”

“Is he always this much of an asshole?”

Jinyoung chuckles, “Pretty much.”

“Great.” The vampire breathes out a sigh and cards her fingers through her hair. After a brief moment of silence, she directs her attention back to Jaebeom and pleads—her voice packed with desperation and fear, “What can I do to convince you to let me live? Please, Jaebeom… I don’t want to die.”

“You should have thought about that before you touched what I told you not to.” Jinyoung remains quiet as Jaebeom lifts a hand to grasp Tzuyu’s jaw. The dying visitor remains unphased, proceeding to glare at the hybrid with hateful, yet oddly sorrowful eyes. “I suggest you show yourself out before I end your life sooner.”

“You’re going to lose everything one of these days, Jaebeom.” Tzuyu shakes her head sadly, wiping away a layer of cold sweat from her forehead. “You’re going to lose everyone, even your brother, and you’re going to be alone. For an eternity.”

“Save the monologue.” Jaebeom waves dismissively, taking a sip of the brandy before returning it back to its shelf. “Petty isn’t a good look for you, baby.”

“Fuck you, Jaebeom.” Tzuyu goes to stomp out the door, but something—someone blocks her path. The atmosphere changes when Jinyoung notices your panicked form, practically gasping for air and cross-eyed, standing in the doorway. He immediately speeds to your side without hesitation, grasping your hands in hopes to ground you.

He stares into your eyes, “What is it, (Y/N)? What’s wrong?”

“You and Jaebeom have to get the hell out of here! Right now!”

Jaebeom shakes his head in confusion, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I don’t know what exactly happened but Minho turned Changbin into this dark werewolf creature or-or something… I do know, however, that Changbin is on his way right now to kill you both.” Jinyoung steps back at the intensity of your explanation, unable to think of a response over the roar of his thoughts. Through his peripheral vision, he can spot the same type of speechlessness across Jaebeom’s face.

Not again…

“That’s stupid… You realize nothing can kill them, right?” Tzuyu scoffs.

“This is different.” You urge, “I saw Changbin—he wasn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before… The spell that Minho used, it was-was—”

“Dark magic.” Jinyoung finishes blankly, “The spell was dark magic.”

“Yes… which means you and Jaebeom need to leave town as fast as you possibly can before—”

“I don’t think anyone is going anywhere, (Y/N).” Jinyoung’s entire body grows stiff as a new voice echoes throughout the study. He cautiously turns his head, discovering none other than the young werewolf in question resting among the shadows. His eye also catches the open window a few inches away, and he curses himself for ever wanting to feel the nightly draft.

Changbin’s smirk is as dark as his eyes.

“What?... Not going to offer me a drink?”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“(Y/N)! Get out of here! Now!” Jaebeom hears Jinyoung scream as the werewolf suddenly launches forward, knocking his brother into the bookshelf behind him. The wood completely splinters beneath the impact, raining down an array of books and planks on Jinyoung’s body. Changbin turns to Jaebeom next, but the hybrid is ready—and pissed off.

Jaebeom speeds toward the intruder and delivers a swift kick to the gut. Changbin flies back at the force, crashing back through the window with a loud growl. Sensing the urgency in time, Jaebeom quickly throws Jinyoung’s immobile body over his shoulder and urges both you and Tzuyu out the study door.

“Come on! We gotta go!”

“Jaebeom! What the hell is happening!?” He ignores Tzuyu’s fearful ask and proceeds to lug Jinyoung through the maze of hallways and down the staircase, you and the female vampire hot on his heels. He doesn’t know exactly where he’s going, but he makes his way to the parlor where he props Jinyoung up against a nearby chair before turning to you:

“You need to leave. I will deal with this.”

“No way. I’m not going anywhere.” Jaebeom curses your stubbornness inside his head, sending a stern glare in your direction. Your expression remains fixated, and he can’t help but wish your presence in any other situation but now.

“I can’t protect you right now—”

“And I can’t sit back and watch you get yourselves killed!” You shake your head indignantly, “I’m staying!”

“Fucking hell, (Y/N)! Get your ass out that door before I throw you out myself!”

“Jaebeom, watch out!” At Tzuyu’s cue, a wooden branch comes soaring in through the window. Jaebeom immediately throws himself against you, effectively forcing your body to the ground to dodge the projectile. He can feel your fear through the trembling of your limbs and hurried breaths, but it only brings him more determination to tear apart his attacker.

He shakes his head in surrender, “You stay on the fucking ground, understand? Don’t you fucking dare move a muscle.” He doesn’t bother to wait for a response and pushes himself back to his feet.

Tzuyu is huddled in a corner, and Jinyoung has yet to awaken from his crash landing back in the study. Jaebeom tries to focus his senses on detecting the werewolf, but he can’t seem to hear anything past the beating of his own heart. He carefully makes his way over to the incapacitated vampire, attempting to force him back to consciousness.

“Now is really not the time for a fucking nap, Jinyoung.” He hisses, “I swear to god, if I have to save your ass one more time—” Another wave of tree branches come crashing through the windows. Unfortunately, Jaebeom is not as quick and one catches his shoulder at just the right angle. He feels the wood sink into his flesh, painfully carving into his bones. With a low groan, Jaebeom manages to grab the makeshift stake and remove it in one hefty pull.

He tosses it away with a yell, “You gonna hide like a little bitch!? Or are you gonna come out and fight like a man!?”

“Be careful what you wish for, asshole!” Jaebeom turns just in time to discover the werewolf emerging from a shattered window. His blood boils when he notices the sadistic grin along the young kid’s face—he wonders how those teeth will look strewn across the parlor floor.

Changbin comes at him fast, much faster than Jaebeom could have predicted. He manages to dodge a set of jabs, but he’s not so lucky when Changbin lands a heavy hit against the side of his face. Pain erupts through his jaw as he collapses to the floor, but Jaebeom doesn’t have the chance to dwell over it and rolls out of the way just as the werewolf attempts to stomp his nose.

Jaebeom tries to speed away again, but like before, his counterpart is faster. Changbin manages to force him to the floor for a second time, pinning his body down with his own. Horrified, the hybrid watches as the werewolf’s eyes glow blood red and large, pitch black fangs emerge past his parted lips. Once again, he attempts to break free, but it’s no use—Changbin is too strong.

Just when he believes the wolf’s fangs are going to sink into his neck, another form knocks Changbin away. Jaebeom hurriedly props himself on his arms in time to watch Tzuyu deliver a series of hits and kicks to the perpetrator, eventually slamming his head into a nearby armoire. Taking advantage of the moment, she turns from Changbin to Jaebeom instead:

“Grab Jinyoung and (Y/N) and run!” She screams, “Get the hell of here!”

Unable to move, Jaebeom remains as Tzuyu attempts to fight off the wolf. But with the combination of his ultimate strength and her weakness from Jaebeom’s venom, her defeat is inevitable. He watches in terror as Changbin sinks his teeth into the vampire’s arm before yanking her head forward and effectively snapping her neck. Jaebeom feels his insides practically soar with rage when the attacker tosses a comatose Tzuyu across the room like a useless toy.

“I’ll kill you…” He sneers, allowing his own supernatural features to overtake his face. “I’ll fucking kill you…”

Changbin shakes his head with a smirk, “I’d like to see you try.”

Using the little agility he has left, Jaebeom grabs one of the branches and speeds toward the wolf. Due to Changbin’s movements, he misses his chest, but manages to stab the weapon in his stomach. Changbin releases a pained groan, allowing Jaebeom to take advantage of his surprise and land another array of uppercuts to his face. Just when he finally thinks he has the upper hand, his opponent blocks one of his hits and pins him against a wall with a hand around his throat.

“Any last words, Prime?”

“You really think you can kill me?” Jaebeom growls, squirming against Changbin’s hold.

“I know I can… Have fun rotting in Hell—fuck!”

Shock spills through Jaebeom’s veins as the point of branch suddenly appears through the center of the wolf’s chest, splattering red across both of their bodies. Changbin’s grip releases, allowing the hybrid to quickly speed out of his reach. Once he’s a safe distances away, Jaebeom looks to his savior, discovering the one person he never expected to see—

You stand over Changbin’s body—chest heaving and bloodied hands trembling. Your eyes are glassy when Jaebeom meets your gaze, and for some reason, he feels the urge to go and pull your form into a tight embrace. Your voice, however, returns his mind to reality:

“Did I… Did I kill him?”

“I don’t think so.” Jaebeom answers, nursing his wound with his own shaky fingers. “We need to get out of here—get somewhere safe.”

“Good idea.” You trudge over to where Jinyoung is still unconsciously laid across the chair. Jaebeom follows your lead and hurries over to a lifeless Tzuyu. “I know somewhere we can go… but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“(Y/N)... There is an immortal, unkillable super wolf out to kill me and my brother currently in my living room…” He snorts, maneuvering Tzuyu’s body into one arm and assisting you and Jinyoung with the other.

“Trust me, anywhere is a hell of a lot better than here…”

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jadedxrealityw · 4 years

Text

-I Only Need You- Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

A/N: My male reader flopped harder then my life, so imma stick to female lmao.

Summary: It’s a regular trip to Hogsmeade when Draco comes across a girl he has never met before.

Warning: Soft Draco and shitty friends, also a bit of cursing.

House: Gryffindor

♡~🐍~♡

“Hurry up Y/n!” shouted Hermione from outside your door. You chuckle quietly and you pull your black knitted cardigan over your white turtleneck. You stare at your outfit one last time, hoping it would keep you warm enough against the harsh cold outside. “I’m coming out, hold your horses” you replied back with a soft laugh. Hermione was always so punctual.

You grab the handle of your door and twist it, pulling it open. You were greeted with the sight of Hermione crossing her arms as well as Harry and Ron standing a few feet behind her “Ready?” she asked and you nodded in reply. She smiles and turns to walk out the common room with the rest of the group.

“Any minute more and i think she would of gone mental” Ron commented, making both you and Harry laugh. “You know how she is with our Hogsmeade trips” you shrug as you talk “Yeah because she loves Butterbeer” “You are right about that Ronald”

♡~🐍~♡

“so what do you guys want to do first?” You asked, rubbing your hands together to create some warmth. The snow fell around you, as much as it was freezing you couldn’t deny that fact that it was beautiful. The snow laying on the ground like a thick white blanket was a sight to see. “We could go to Honeydukes and get some candy?” Ron suggested.

Hermione rolled her eyes in annoyance “We always go to Honeydukes. I think we should go to The Three Broomsticks and get-” “Butterbeer” you three said in unison. Hermione’s face heated up in embarrassment as the rest of you laughed. “Shut it!” she huffed and crossed her arms. You put a hand on her shoulder “Lets go get some Butterbeer” she had a pout on her face, but nodded nonetheless.

♡~🐍~♡

As all of you walked into The Three Broomsticks, you looked around for a empty table. As you all made your way over Hermione was giggling with excitement. You smiled at her child like behaviour for a drink. You all sat down. You and Hermione sat next to each other as Ron and Harry sat across from you too. A waiter came over and Hermione spoke up “Can we have four Butterbeers please” the waiter nodded and left.

“Hermione calm down, your shaking in your seat” Ron laughed. You smiled lightly as Hermione huffs like last time and looks away. After a couple minutes the waiter came out holding a silver tray with there drinks. They placed each drink in front of them and smiled “Enjoy” they said politely and left. Hermione instantly started to drink hers “It’s still so good” she hummed.

You smiled and took a sip of your butterbeer. She was right, it was still a good drink. As you all chatted away and drank Butterbeer you notice Harry stare out the window for a moment before turning to ron and Hermione “Padfoot” he says. You stare at him with a confused expression. Hermione and ron nods and stand up, as well as Harry “we’ll be back in a bit” Hermione said, gazing at you.

You go to stand up as well, but Harry shakes his head “Alone, you stay here” he says “What why?” you question. “Just stay here Y/n. okay?” Harry said in a rather harsh tone. Y/n’s smiles sadly and nods “Yeah sure” and soon enough they left.

They always left you out of things. They went on the adventures and always left you behind. They were the golden trio and you were just a side character in there big story. You sigh and take another sip of your Butterbeer. You questioned if you were really there friend sometimes, like you were now. You looked up from your drink to gaze around the room when your eyes make contact with cold grey ones.

You tensed up slightly as the eyes bore into yours like they were studying your soul and everything about it. You tear your eyes away soon after. Draco Malfoy. Why was he staring at you? Why did you stare back? You shake away your thoughts as you finish the rest of your Butterbeer.

“Is this seat taken?” you heard a low voice speak, looking up you see the blond Slytherin staring down at you. You feel small under his gaze, he was indeed intimidating “Um no, not anymore.” he takes a seat across from you where Ron sat and shuffled a bit “I couldn’t help but hear your conversation with Potter” he started. You raise a brow Had he been watching you? “i just wanted to say sorry” he says, a genuine smile gracing his lips. You blink a couple times in shock.

“Oh, its quite alright. I’m used to it” You replied, being casted out by your own friends had become a normal thing you no longer questioned. “How come i’ve never seen you before?” he asked. You shrug your shoulders “If your not part of the golden trio and going on dangerous adventures, you fade into the background at Hogwarts” bitterness laced your tone, which Draco could definitely hear. “That i agree with. Why don’t they ever take you with them?”

“I wish i knew as well. Maybe because i’m not like them?” You replied, not really sure of your own answer “What do you mean by that?” he asked, genuinely interested “I’m not smart like Hermione, i’m not brave like Harry, i’m not. I don’t know what Ron is actually” “Annoying?” Draco suggested, making you laugh slightly. He wasn’t totally wrong. Draco smiles as he hears your sweet laugh.

“I think you should ditch them.” Draco suggested making you shuffle in your seat “I don’t know, i don’t want them to be angry with me” she frowns slightly. Draco reached over to grab your hand with his. You feel the cold metal of his rings on the skin of your hand. He rubs his thumb in circles on your hand in a soothing manner “You don’t deserve to be treated like that..i just realized i never asked for your name. How rude of me” Draco chuckles.

You smile and shake your head “No its fine, Im Y/n” he smiles as you say your name “That’s a beautiful name” he says as his hand continues to hold yours “This is gonna sound strange, but do you want to go for a walk around Hogsmeade with me?” he asked, he looked slightly worried. Fearing rejection. You nod slowly “I’d like that very much”

♡~🐍~♡

It had been months since that Hogsmeade trip. You and Draco continued to hang out, growing closer and closer. It was inevitable for you two to grow feelings for each other. You unfortunately had not listened to Draco when he said to drop the golden trio, you were to nice for that even if they had been ignoring you for two weeks now. Currently you were walking around with Draco, taking a stroll out the outskirts of the forbidden forest was something you two did often.

“Y/n!” you both heard from behind you. You turn around to see your ‘friends’ looking at you with a smile “Hey Y/n, we were wondering if you wanted to hang out?” Hermione asked, her eyes landed on Draco and she scowled “What’re doing with him” Draco rolled his eyes “We were having a nice stroll till you three came along” he snapped back. You put a hand on his arm. He visibly calmed at your touch.

“You shouldn’t be around him Y/n he’s a dirty Slytherin. We’re your friends come on” Harry scoffed. You looked at them in disbelief “Friends?! You only hang out with me when it’s convenient for you! You leave me in the dust to go on adventures or some shit! Oh, but please tell me how i’m your friend?!” you shouted at them. The trio looked hurt at your words “We are your friends Y/n! There’s just some things we have to do alone” Hermione exclaimed back.

“Oh cut the bullshit. If i really meant anything to any of you you would have told me a long time ago. I’m done with you three” You turned your back and began to walk anyway, wiping harshly at the tears that came down your face. “Y/n!” Draco shouts as he runs in front of you. He grabs your face, tilting it up to look at him “Hey, don’t cry” he cooed and and wiped a few stray tears with his thumb.

“I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself” He smiles, you give him a quick smile and put your hands over his. “I really couldn’t have done it without you, Draco” You reply, making his face flush lightly. Your eyes gaze around his face, surprised to find yourself leaning in. Draco does the same. You close your eyes as his lips land on yours. He was soft yet forceful with the way he kissed you.

Draco’s hands let go of your face and travel down your back, pulling you flush against his chest. You gasp in surprise and your hands land on his chest. He pulls away, leaving you breathless from his kiss “Wow” he muttered making you laugh “Yeah wow” you repeated. “I’m sorry about your friends Y/n” he says in a saddened tone. “It’s okay, want to know why?” “Why?” he asked.

“Because, I only need you”

♡~🐍~♡

A/N: That ending was kinda trash ngl. Anyway, make sure to check out my profile to request something for a Draco x reader

#draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco x you #draco malfoy #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #potterhead #fanfiction #fanfic #x fem!reader #x female reader #slytherin #gryffindor

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amintyworld · 3 years

Text

It’s a Wonderful Life, Tommy - Dream SMP Holiday Oneshot

A/N: So this started as an imagine that I wanted to do a bullet fic for, but I got carried away and kind of, sort of, wrote an 11-page fic? So, sorry for the extra setup at the beginning. It’s inspired off two of my favorite Christmas movies: ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ and ‘A Christmas Carol’ and I ended up with a pretty good even blend of the two, and I’m pretty proud of this. Here’s my Christmas gift to the fandom, I hope you enjoy! So, grab your hot cocoa and Christmas cookies, settle into a blanket and enjoy this holiday tale. -Minty

Summary: After a nasty fight with Tubbo combined with Tommy’s worsening depression, its Tommy’s final straw as he decides he’s ready to give up. But, it looks like Tommy’s condition and situation has gotten some supernatural attention.

TW: Suicide attempt, talks of suicide, heavy blood and gore, manipulation and blame, major character deaths(?), insanity. (Please tell me if I need to tag anything else!)

-----------------------------------

Imagine it’s Christmas Eve but he didn’t end up going with Technoblade and he’s still alone. He’s still as depressed as ever, and on top of all of that, he had an argument when Tubbo tried to visit that ended worse than anything Tommy ever imagined.

Tommy’s trying his best to enjoy the holiday and ends up wandering around, stumbling upon Technoblade’s house - where Ghostbur and Techno are both singing carols while decorating a tree. Tommy’s heart aches with loneliness as he quickly leaves before anyone could see him through the window. No one had left him any presents (Dream burned them all secretly) and he kept looking over Dream’s gift - a white porcelain mask with eyes and no mouth, like Dream’s. Dream claimed in his note that things were getting dangerous and it was to keep him safe and hide his identity. Something about it felt off, though.

He didn’t want to assume the worst of his friend, but it seemed more like a gift Dream wanted him to have instead of something he wanted. That’s why after a while of just holding it and tracing over the details with his fingers he put it away in his chest. He climbed his tower again and was getting ready to aim for the top of a tree, done with everything - with trying to hope when everything he ever had, his friends and family, were gone. He kept searching for a point to his suffering and found none, so he decided to finally end things for good.

A voice called out to him. It was Phil.

“It’s not really the season for giving up hope, now is it?”

Tommy was of course startled, as a floating spirit in the form of what looks like Philza, his dad, flying and floating in front of him... with wings? Tommy is trying to compose himself while trying to discern whether or not his ‘thing’ is real - touching his shoulder only to touch absolutely nothing, yelling at it to see if it’s a demon, while the spirit is nonetheless, unimpressed. “What are you? Are you really Phil, or am i just... hallucinating again?”

“I am quite real - you can call me your guide of sorts. I’ve taken the form of your loved one to make you feel more at ease. Anyway, Tommyinnit, I’m sent here to stop you from jumping from this pillar.”

“Why exactly should I listen to you? For all I know, you’re just another weird vision like Tubbo was. I’m really tired of my messed up mind, just go away.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Tommy. It’s my sworn duty to step in here, for your behalf.”

“My behalf?! I assure you, whoever you are, I’d be happier dead than to live without anyone who really cares about me.”

“How about a deal then? I will show you three places, events, and if I can’t change your mind, I’ll leave you alone.”

“No lying?”

“Why would I?”

“Okay, sure.” Tommy still didn’t think any of this was real, but he was honestly curious where this weird dream was going. The Guide took Tommy’s hand and told him to trust him, and they both jumped, Tommy yelling, confused, as he fell, fell, fell, preparing for impact and probably death, instead of falling into... snow?

He shivered and looked around - how is the sun up, it was the night a few seconds ago...? The Guide took his hand with a comforting smile and led him through the trees when Tommy froze in his tracks. A house... he KNEW that house. “Look familiar?”

Shouts nearby made his head whip around as a snowball raced toward him. He braced for impact, but it didn’t hit him. Instead, it hit a tree trunk behind him. Laughter filled the air as he heard a familiar voice behind him yell. “HA, your aim is shit, Tommy!” He saw a young version of Technoblade rush through the bushes, and... that was him... a young version of him in the trees, snowball in hand, angry at his missed shot.

“Yeah, well I still have the high ground, you arsehole!” He noticed a young Tubbo next to him, a snowball in each hand wearing a green coat that was way too big for him. He laughed, remembering it - Phil didn’t have money for a new coat for Tubbo that year, so he gave him his older one to use, and the poor kid kept falling over and tripping on it. Tubbo handed Tommy another snowball as they both pelted the snowballs down as Techno rushed into some cover behind a rock.

“This is Christmas by the lake, where Phil grew up. But, how can I see it, that was over six years ago-?” Tommy turned to the guide who showed him who his whole body turned translucent.

“In order to show you events, we must travel to that point in time, but we’ll only be observers, we can’t interact with them.”

Tommy looked over as Technoblade pelted Tommy with a snowball hard, making him lose his balance and fall to the snowy ground below. “This is unreal, it’s so clear, how can I recall this in a dream...?”

“I told you, I am a spirit Tommy, your Guide.” Looking around at it all, Tommy couldn’t help but to start to believe him. The smell of gingerbread filled his nose from the house as Wilbur walked out, his hands in the air.

“Okay guys, Phil told me to tell you to come inside-” Before his older brother could even finish his sentence, three snowballs hit him square in the face. “Hey, I’m not even playing!”

“You’re in the kill zone, Wil!” Tubbo shouted from the treetops as if that would explain everything.

“Ugh, why are you all so annoying-”

Techno smirked, looking over at his brother from his spot covered by the rock. “Aw, come on, don’t be a buzzkill Wilby.” Wilbur stopped at the nickname and turned with a fire in his eyes.

“I’ll show you buzzkill-!” He shouted as he threw a snowball at Techno, running for his own cover.

“Look at you, surrounded by your family, your best friend - it seems like you all love each other a lot.”

“Well, of course, we’re family.” Tommy paused, realizing what he said and quickly correcting himself. “At least, we were.” He watched the scene unfold - Philza called them in for cookies and cocoa and they all rushed into the house. While running, Tubbo tripped on his coat and fell again, and Tommy saw himself stay back and help Tubbo to his feet with a smile.

“I bet Tubbo appreciated your friendship, especially then.”

“Well, I knew what it was like to be the new kid in the family, you know? It’s awkward and weird at first to settle into. You’re by yourself for so long it’s hard to get used to being around people all the time who give you so much affection.” He walked over toward the window and looked inside - Phil put on some Christmas music that blasted through the player and Techno covered his ears, begging for something different, making everyone laugh. Wilbur pulled out his guitar as Technoblade practically slammed the ‘stop’ button on the player.

“All of you look close.”

“We are- were,” Tommy said. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter, none of this does - even if they cared for me and loved me then, doesn’t mean they do now.”

“I thought you said family loved each other no matter what.” The Guide said smoothly. “Why would it make sense for them to stop loving you now?”

“I don’t know...” Tommy breathed, his mind confused and questioning. “Maybe we’re not family. Maybe we... maybe we never were. Anyways, you’ve shown me enough of this to count for the deal, let’s just move on.”

“Hold on, we’re gonna miss my favorite part.” The Guide said as Philza came in with a Santa hat.

“As per tradition in the Sleepy Boys Incorporated Household, me - the Grand Master - shall decide who gets to receive an extra special gift to open before Christmas Day.” Wilbur bounced excitedly on the couch, and Tommy crossed his fingers as they waited. “I have tallied the points-”

“I still think there’s no point system-” Technoblade mumbled as Philza continued.

“And this year, the wearer of the special Santa hat goes to... Tommy!” Phil said as he tossed it over to the boy, who smiled widely. “For your extra help around the house and chores, this year’s for you, buddy.”

“Yay, Tommy!” Wilbur said from the couch as Technoblade smiled and nodded in approval. Tubbo clapped and cheered - this was the first year Tommy had ever been given the hat. Outside the window, Tommy crossed his arms and looked at the snow, knowing what was going to happen next. Young Tommy smiled wide as he clutched the Santa hat in his hands. He looked over to Tubbo for a moment, then to the hat, unknown thoughts in his head. Then, he handed it out to Tubbo.

“Here. You can have it.”

Tubbo looked confused. “But Tommy, you worked so hard for this - you did extra chores, you helped out Wilbur when his beanie got stuck in the tree... you didn’t curse for an entire week!”

“I know.” He smiled, turning into a smirk. “But, you know, if it was that easy for me to get it this year, I can always get it again. And, since it was harder for you, if I don’t give you the hat now, you probably won’t get it until you’re Phil’s age.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Philza shouted as he carried in a large gift-wrapped box to set on the table.

“But Tommy-” Tubbo tried to interject, but Tommy threw him the hat.

“Come on, I insist,” Tommy said, and the two best friends hugged each other tightly. Outside, Tommy looked at the scene, pressing his hand up against the glass, his heart aching uncomfortably, not being able to tear his eyes away from the tender moment. He turned to the spirit, emotion, and anger on his face.

“Tubbo exiled me, he burned his compass, he didn’t show up to my beach party, he didn’t even come to see me.” His eyes looked cold. “He’s NOT my best friend, let alone my friend!”

The spirit looked calm. “I see.” He slowly turned and began to walk away into the forest swiftly, leaving Tommy scrambling to catch up.

--------------------------------------

“Spirit... Guide... whatever you are, wait up!” Tommy shouted as he sprinted after the figure through the trees, suddenly being caught by his shirt before he fell into the water. He looked around and noticed he was in L’manburg - the moon just how he left it when the spirit took him to the past. He noticed the Chinese lanterns, the dock, the houses - it wasn’t just L’manburg, it was New L’manburg. The spirit walked up the steps silently and Tommy was quick to follow. “We’re in the present, in L’manburg, but why?”

“I thought you’d be curious to see how your former friend is celebrating tonight - a look without the trouble of trying to hide or break the rules.” The spirit said simply, before holding out his hand for Tommy to take. “Hold on tightly, please.” Tommy gripped the spirit’s hand as he was dragged through a few walls, freaking out a bit until he realized that he was in the same state as a ghost, or like the spirit called it, an observer - so he couldn’t suffocate.

Whatever Tommy was expecting, it certainly wasn’t this. A room filled with torn posters of Technoblade pasted along the walls calling him all sorts of bad things, and a wooden table in the center with four people sitting around it, Tubbo among them. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea anymore, Big Q. With what Dream’s done to Tommy, what if he gets caught in all this?”

Quackity looked upset, his eyes narrowed. “Tubbo, this is our one and only chance to get revenge for our country, and you’re saying to stop all of our work for the small chance, chance that Tommy will show up?”

“He’s a L’manburg citizen, Quackity. As president, it’s my job to protect every citizen-”

“You’d sacrifice the country, Mr. President, everything we’ve worked for, for one person?!” Quackity snapped. Tommy looked on with piqued interest, noticing how both Ranboo and Fundy sunk down a bit on their chairs from the building tension in the room. Tubbo got up and leaned in so he and Quackity’s faces were inches apart.

“Yes, I would. I’m not going to be responsible for anyone becoming a ghost on my account, Quackity.” Tubbo snapped. “I draw the line at risking innocent lives.”

Tommy couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Even after they yelled at each other, screamed at each other, he... he still... cares?

“I’m questioning your true loyalty to your country, Mr. President - it seems your loyalties lie elsewhere. What kind of President wouldn’t be willing to do anything, make any sacrifice, for the betterment of the country?”

“One like Schlatt. Wilbur maybe. But not me.”

“Then, Mr. President, you’re nothing but a traitor.” Quackity said, pulling out his sword and pointing it at Tubbo. “I’m taking you under arrest.” Tubbo slowly put his hands up, looking over to Fundy and Ranboo, who both looked distraught and stayed silent.

“Quackity, you’re insane. You’re going to destroy L’manburg to kill Techno and Dream, you’re going to destroy everything we’ve worked to save.” Tubbo protested, but his cries fell on deaf ears as Quackity forced him to give him his stuff and armor.

Tommy’s mind whirred. “Tubbo still cares about me. Even after everything, he’s still my friend.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “I...I can’t believe it.”

“It’s a shame you don’t think the same of him.”

Tommy was quick to respond. “I do, I have, it’s just he’s done so much against me - he burned the compass, he didn’t show up to the beach party-”

Tommy looked over just in time to see Quackity close the jail cell loudly - there was barely enough room for Tubbo to sit or even stand. Tubbo’s hands clutched the bars. “Quackity, don’t do this. Do you even understand what Dream and Techno are capable of?!”

Quackity glared at him. “Of course I do, which is why I need to dispose of them since our leader is too much of a coward to do it himself. Come on guys, we have a festival to prepare for.” Fundy and Ranboo were silent as they passed him, bowing their heads in shame. Tommy walked closer with the spirit to see him pull out...the compass...

The enchanted compass, the matching one to the one Tommy had in his own chest. The one Dream said he burned. That didn’t make any sense, Dream said he- Dream. “Are you tricking me?”

“Why would I do that, Tommy? We made a deal.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense, Tubbo shouldn’t have the compass, it’s supposed to be burned!”

“Ah. Maybe that was the claim that led you astray?”

Tommy silently looked down at Tubbo as he held the compass in his hands, tears welling up in Tubbo’s eyes. “Guess you were right, Tommy. I’m so sorry…” Tommy had no words, thoughts running through his head. This didn’t make any sense. Dream wouldn’t lie to him, he’s his friend. Even so, emotion welled up in his eyes as his stomach formed in knots.

“Dream wouldn’t lie to me. Stop trying to trick me, I know this isn’t real.”

“But I promised you I’d only show the truth, didn’t I?”

“But this can’t be true - Tubbo’s compass is supposed to be burned, he’s not supposed to cry for me, he's supposed to hate me, they’re all supposed to hate me!”

“What if they don’t, Tommy, and they never have?”

“Even if they didn’t...even if they cared, I’ve caused too much trouble - all of this started because of me. So, wouldn’t it be better if I was gone?” The spirit held out his hand to Tommy.

“Do you want to find out?”

--------------------------------------

After a few moments of hesitation, Tommy took the Spirit’s hand, and quickly was dragged upwards through the wall, into darkness, the spirit’s wings taking them up, up, up, and suddenly… he found himself on the ground. Thunder rolled in his ears as a light shower of rain began to fall toward the ground. He was on a mountain, and his hands gripped the soggy grass between his fingers, feeling the realness of it all. He looked around for his winged spirit but found no one. L’manburg stood around him, and he walked down the dock, noticing a crowd of people gathered around a memorial of sorts.

Curious, he crept closer. Who’s memorial was it? It looked nice too - a small stone cover from the rain, vines and flowers growing all around it. He started to worry - did his death cause someone else’s? He looked over at the crowd - he noticed Skeppy holding Bad close as he cried, and there was Puffy and Ant, who looked dazed by it all, their faces solemn. Oh, over there was Quackity - he crossed his arms and looked to the floor. Fundy sat next to George and Sapnap - his eyebrows furrowed in thought. George held Sapnap’s hand in comfort as tears slid down their cheeks every now and then. Punz and Ponk were in the back.. Oh, there was Ranboo!

His half-enderman friend was shaking, as Ghostbur stood at his side and did his best to comfort him, though even Tommy could tell the ghost was more than distraught over it all. Tommy walked closer… wait, was that Technoblade?! What was he doing here…? Isn’t he wanted in L’manburg? Even more surprising, was the tear staining glisten in his eyes - Technoblade was crying. It was an odd sight indeed to see his tough friend weep, but Philza was at his side to pull him close, tears rolling down his cheeks as well.

“He was a hero for L’manburg, and made numerous sacrifices for our country. More than that, he was an uncle, a son, a brother, and a friend to many who knew him.” There was Tubbo, speaking at the podium looking the saddest Tommy had ever seen him. His hands gripped the wood tightly as he shook slightly. “Though he was not with us for long, I think it’s clear to see when I look around this room he touched more lives than he knew. He was brave, strong, and an inspiration to many as someone who encompassed the true values of our nation.. He may be gone, but will always live on in our memories and in our hearts.”

Tommy’s heart dropped as he read the sign: ‘Tommyinnit, joined July 2020, died December 2020. A friend taken too soon.’ This was his memorial, all of them were here… this was HIS funeral! He noticed how Tubbo’s shaking grew more noticable as tears streamed from his eyes that left drops where his speech was prepared. Philza walked up and they both hugged each other tightly, Phil rubbing his back as Tubbo let out a sob and the two walked back to sit with the rest.

Slowly, one by one people began to walk up to a buried spot on the ground - his green bandana was tied tightly to the side as it waved in the wind like a flag. He watched as Ghostbur walked up and left some blue flowers at his grave. “I hope you’re happier, wherever you are. Here’s some blue - I got extra so you won’t run out.” Tommy’s eyes threatened to spill with tears as Ghostbur put a hand on his gravestone. “Both Alivebur and I love you very much, and we’ll miss you a lot, but don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine! I’ll try to take care of Tubbo for you, okay?”

“Okay..” Tommy choked out as a tear slid down his cheek. Ranboo walked up to sit next to Ghostbur, silent. Ghostbur gave him a hug, which he returned before Ghostbur left, walking back into the crowd of people talking.

“I really should have noticed it sooner, shouldn’t I?” Ranboo said. “I should’ve been there more, did more, did anything… but I… I’m so sorry, Tommy.” His hands were shaking as they reached out toward the gravestone but stopped short of touching it. “You did so much for me, you protected me, and I… I couldn’t even do the same for you. I’m a pretty bad friend, aren’t I?”

“No, no.” Though Ranboo couldn’t hear him or see him, Tommy put his hand on Ranboo’s shoulder as he tried his best not to try, sniffling. “You were the best friend I could ever ask for. You were there for me whenever I needed you. This isn’t your fault.”

Both heard steps behind them and turned to notice Techoblade standing there, no clear emotion in his face. Ranboo quickly left, intimidated by the pig hybrid as he disappeared back into the crowd. Technoblade took his crown off as he approached, kneeling in front of the gravestone, silent for a few moments. “I wish we were closer. I wish I would’ve been there to help you before it was too late. I… I wish you knew how much I loved you, but I guess we’re both too similar when it comes to admitting something like that, huh?” Technoblade smiled a bit before it quickly fell. “I know I didn’t agree with your choices, but that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t help you, I should’ve let you know that.” Tommy stood, stunned at Technoblade’s words - that he loved him, that he’d miss him. Techno pulled out a folded cloth. “I was going to give you it for Christmas, but Dream had other plans. I’m sorry, it’s the only present I saved from the lava.” Technoblade set it down next to the flowers. “It’s a cape like mine, see? Wilbur kept telling me how cold you were in exile. Partly it was because of that, the other part was because I was too annoyed when you kept trying to steal mine-” Technoblade sniffled, a few tears going down his cheeks that landed in the dirt below. Philza walked up and gave him a tight hug.

“Shh, Techno. It’s okay. I know he would’ve loved it.” Philza said, comforting his eldest. “Now go talk to Ghostbur and make sure he doesn’t wander off with Friend.” Techno just nodded, taking one last look at the grave and placing his hand on the stone, turning and walking off.

Philza was by far the quietest one of all, running his fingers over the soft green bandana and the top of the gravestone. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks as he took out a small photo in his pocket. It was an old Christmas photo from so long ago - Technoblade had Tommy up on his shoulders, Wilbur was standing at attention in a salute, holding back a laugh as Tubbo chased his scarf, Philza taking a sort of selfie with the camera, the chaos showing in the background. He wedged it in Technoblade’s cloak. “Here, don’t forget us - the good parts of us.” Philza said softly. “Don’t forget that we’ll always love you, no matter what.” Philza wiped away a few tears from his eyes. “I don’t know if I’ll ever know why you did this, and I don’t think I’ll ever really know. I’m sorry I wasn’t a good father to you, and I hope you’re at peace wherever you are.” Philza took a deep breath getting ready to leave when a loud crash interrupted him.

Tommy, still trying to compose himself and wipe away his tears from his family and friend’s sentiments, looked up in surprise to see Tubbo pissed off, being held back by Technoblade and Puffy, Ghostbur trying to calm him down. Dream got up from his place on the ground, a large crack forming on his white mask. Tubbo yelled, shouted and kicked. “He doesn’t GET to be here, he’s lucky I don’t kill him right now! He’s the one who killed him, he doesn’t get to go near him again!”

Ghostbur looked nervous when Tubbo smacked the blue he offered out of his hand. “Tubbo calm yourself, please, for Tommy-!”

“I didn’t push him off that tower, did I, Tubbo?” Dream’s words were sharp and calm, traced with anger. Everyone fell silent, as Dream approached the President. “I didn’t do anything, if anything, he died because of all of you - you could have stopped me, you could have visited, and you did nothing-”

Without hesitation, Tubbo decked him across the face, his mask flying toward the ground, and suddenly blonde messy hair and piercing green eyes started down at him. “You told him lies, you manipulated him, you made him think he was alone. We may have not done much, even if we knew what you were doing, but at least we didn’t drive him into that depression, Dream. That’s all on you, and you fucking know it.” Tubbo pointed a finger at his chest. “You’ve got some nerve showing up here after everything you did to him. I don’t want you here and I know that he sure as well wouldn’t either.” Tubbo’s eyes narrowed. “So you either leave or we’re settling this right here, right now.”

“Are you threatening me, Mr. President?” Dream smirked. “Not a very wise decision - I’ve beaten you before, I’ve taken everything away from you and watched you beg for mercy.”

“That’s what you don’t understand, Dream.” Tubbo said. “You’ve taken so much away from me I have nothing left to lose.” Dream pulled out his sword but a heavy smack from Tubbo sent it to the floor. “You underestimate just how far I’m willing to go, Dream. You think you’ve seen me upset, seen me angry? You haven’t seen even a fraction of it. I will stop at nothing for Tommy - I don’t even care if you kill me, all I care about is that you’re going down with me.” For the first time in his life, fear flew across Dream’s face.

“Tubbo. Leave Dream alone, he’s not worth it.” Philza said as he turned Tubbo away from Dream and glared down at him. “Just get out of here, Dream.”

“Tubbo never really was the same again after you left.” The guiding spirit turned Tommy’s attention to the side, where he sat at the top of the dome memorial. “You mean a lot to him, and losing you after L’manburg fell to Dream, it was the last straw.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Dream owns L’manburg?! That’s impossible, Tubbo would never allow that to happen.”

“He didn’t.” The spirit replied. “Quackity led the charge against Dream and failed, nearly destroying the nation again before legally surrendering it to Dream. Ranboo was going to let Tubbo out of his cell to help, but when he didn’t hear from you he decided to check on you instead and found your body. As always, Dream traded Quackity L’manburg for something he wanted more than anything - the power to revive Schlatt.”

“Revive Schlatt?!” Tommy’s eyes widened. “Dream knew how to do it all along. So why didn’t he revive Wilbur…?”

“It wasn’t of use to him.” The spirit said. “When you died, L’manburg died with you. Philza fell into a deep depression after losing two of his sons to his own hands, and Technoblade… he went mad.”

“Technoblade went crazy…?!”

The spirit pointed around the corner as they jumped once again, landing on the dock as screams of agony echoed throughout the country. Tommy looked around in disbelief as red blood splattered the ground. He noticed Niki run past him toward the bridge, terrified. A dark shadow passed overhead and Technoblade landed in front of her with a wide smile and crazy eyes. “Where are you going, Niki…?”

“N-nowhere, I was just going to go fishing…”

“Really…? If I knew any better, I would have thought you were trying to leave.” Techno’s eyes narrowed. “You know how Dream feels about people breaking his rules.”

“Technoblade, I’m sorry, please… I promise, I won’t come near the docks ever again-!” Niki pleaded as Techno’s laugh echoed through the walls, turning into… crying? Technoblade sobbed as he leaned on his trident as a sort of staff. Niki approached, sympathetic.

“I want him back, Niki. I just want him back.” Technoblade said. “I’d do anything for him, any goddamn thing…” The crying stopped as Techno looked up, eyes full of anger. “Even if that means ripping the guts out of some lying two-faced bitch who didn’t care enough to save him. Come here you little-!” He charged at Niki, and she took off again, screaming, crying for help.

“N-no… Technoblade stop-!” Tommy cried, but Techno didn’t hear him as he snatched her up and beheaded her in one rip, sending blood everywhere. Niki’s painful screams filled his ears.

“Tubbo managed to take Dream down, and they both died in one of his death traps. Now, thanks to his manipulation, Technoblade is a bloodthirsty warrior with no master to serve. He clings to the bit of sanity he has left, not being able to deal with the guilt of being responsible for your death, so he blames others.”

“This can’t be true. Surely if I died some good would come from it.” Tommy said.

“The only good that would come of your death would be Dream’s, who thanks to Tubbo died much earlier than he was supposed to, and in turn saved his people from another tyrannical ruler.” The spirit said. “As for Ghostbur, well…”

Tommy turned around to notice Ghostbur flying around, wondering in the bloody mess of L’manburg that was too eerily quiet for Tommy’s liking. The spirit was gone again, Tommy was alone. He followed Ghostbur as he stepped over dead bodies and looked inside houses. “Hey Technoblade?” Ghostbur called, looking around. “Hey Techno, I have a fun idea to prank Tubbo with, where are you?” He opened the door to Philza’s house. “Philza? Philza Minecraft?!” He called. “I can’t find Techno, do you know where he… oh, you’re not here either.” He knocked, door to door, calling out for everyone, but it was dead silent. “Quackity?! Niki…? Fundy, where are you?!”

Tommy reached to grab Ghostbur’s hand. “They’re not here, Wil. They’re dead.” But Ghostbur didn’t notice him in the slightest.

“Tubbo?! Fundy…?”

“Ghostbur, they’re dead. You gotta stop, they’re not here.” Tommy said solemnly. “They’re dead because of me, but you gotta stop looking, they’re gone-”

“Sapnap? Bad…?”

“Wilbur please.” Tommy begged. “They’re dead, you have to move on.”

“George…?”

“They’re dead, WIlbur.” Tommy snapped, beginning to cry. He looked around for his spirit friend. “Spirit, can you hear me? I want to go back, please let me go back. I don’t want this to happen, please! Can I change it? Is there still time?! I want to live!”

-------------------------------------

When he opened his eyes, he was in his bed in the tent, the morning sun just peaking above the horizon. He wiped a few tears off his cheeks. Was it all a dream… was it not real…? He scrambled for his calendar - Christmas Day. There’s still time. He could fix everything! He searched in his chest for the compass and his discs as he packed a bag - he looked over the mask for a second, before rushing outside and in a fit of rage, frisbees it into the ocean and watched it sink to the bottom. “Fuck you, Dream.” He cursed, feeling freer than he had in weeks.

He grabbed his bag and ran off into the forest toward the snow covered house he knew, picking up some blue cornflowers along the way. His heart felt light as he hummed Christmas carols, running along the path he knew until he saw Technoblade’s house in the distance. Running up to the door, he knocked, smiling. The house was decorated beautifully, and when Ghostbur opened the door he smiled. “Hello, Tommy!”

“Hey Ghostbur!” Tommy smiled. “Sorry it’s a bit early, but I just couldn’t wait to come over and say Merry Christmas!” Technoblade came over to the door, looking extremely confused.

“Tommy…?” Technoblade yawned before Tommy crashed into him with a hug, only making the older increasingly confused. “Um-”

“Merry Christmas, Technobade.” Tommy said happily, handing out the blue flowers to Ghostbur, his eyes lighting up as he smiled. “This is for you.”

“So much blue!” Ghostbur shook with excitement, taking the flowers in his hands. “They’re so pretty, thanks Tommy!”

“You’re welcome.” Tommy said, feeling a sense of dejia vu from it all. Technoblade smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Wanna come inside? I was just about to make breakfast.” Technoblade’s voice was gentle, and for the first time in a long while Tommy felt really happy. Techno ushered him inside by the fire, insisting that he was turning blue out in the snow without a jacket. Ghostbur realized too quickly that Techno didn’t have a vase for the flowers, but with a bit of help from Tommy, he was beginning to weave a flower crown. It was nice to revisit that - he remembered how Philza taught them all how to weave flowercrowns when they were younger, and how to make an acorn whistle, which he quickly regretted. Tommy laughed as he remembered Phil’s face as all three of them whistled all the way home so loud they scared away any animals within a 100 mile radius, for sure.

Techboblade was quiet but content, relaxed, and happy. After a nice breakfast of eggs and toast - the first good breakfast Tommy had in ages, which he finished in record time - Wilbur stood under the tree to open gifts excitedly like he was a child again. As they all settled in, a quick knock on Technoblade’s door interrupted them. “Hello- Oh… hey Phil.”

To his surprise, Tommy and Wilbur couldn’t see their dad at all behind the large pile of wrapped boxes in his hands. His breaths were labored as he spoke. “I hope I’m not late-”

“No, no. In fact, you’re just on time.”

“I was looking for Tommy’s house everywhere and then I realized I went the wrong way, and then he wasn’t there-” Philza began, walking in as he noticed Tommy sitting on the floor. “Well, there you are.”

“Here I am.” Tommy said with a sheepish smile. “Do you need help with that?”

“Please.”

After all of Phil’s gifts were added to the growing collection under the tree, his father pulled Tommy in for a quick hug. “I’m glad you’re here. Christmas wouldn’t be the same with you, you know.”

“I’m glad you didn’t forget me.” Tommy admitted softly, and Phil squeezed around his middle a little tighter.

“Never.” Philza whispered in response, making the younger tear up a bit at the words in joy. When they both pulled away Tommy wiped his eyes, not being able to help his bright smile. “Alright, we’ve got some presents to open, don’t we?”

“We may have to do mine first, I didn't have much time to wrap-” Tommy said as he grabbed his bag and searched. Wilbur proudly showed off his Blue flower crown with glee, making the other two smile at his child-like cheer. Technoblade stilled as Tommy held out a diamond for him. “I’m sorry, I was in a bit of a hurry, I know you have netherite, if you don’t want it-”

“I love it, Tommy.” Technoblade said as he took the diamond and held it in his hands. “It means a lot to me you’d give me it. Thank you.” The two shared a smile before Techno’s face turned into a smirk. “Plus, you’re poor, it was the best you could do, anyway-”

And, as Philza admired and thanked Tommy for the stone sword, Tommy couldn’t help but notice a figure in the window, a figure he thought he’d never see again. His Guardian Spirit, looking inside from the window at the scene with a warm smile. As the spirit looked inside the joyful house, Tommy could distinctly recall a voice in his head echoing words that he’d never forget.

“It’s a wonderful life, isn’t it Tommy?”

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