#spoiler alert: he will ask the dreaded question and the answer will be

[whumpitisthen]

Today Is His Special Day!

Tws: for child endangerment, minor whump (nothing actually happens, has happened or will happen, but whumpee strongly suspects that that may not be the case anymore)

< Masterlist

Today might be the single most stressful day of his entire life.

He has been trying to get ready for today for a few months now. More accurately, a few years. Since he was old enough to understand that life isn't quite as easy for everyone else around him. Quite as certain. Quite as safe.

For a long while he was under the impression that his life was insignificant and unfair; that everyone else had it better simply because they were adults. They worked because that was their job, that is what adults do. They are the responsible, smart, strong ones who were supposed to take care of him. His job was supposed to be learning, and having fun. Enjoying his childhood. And yet, he was working as much as anyone, in his own eyes.

However — a few years back, his visual on the world drastically changed.

He suddenly knew that life could be far worse for him. He witnessed what truly goes on behind the scenes; what everyone around him never had the heart to tell him. He saw the brutality from a front row seat, and no matter how he cried at his 'caretaker', they would not stop until they deemed the punishment severe enough.

Worst of all, the violence didn't end there. From then on, at an age much too young, he was shown again and again how good he really had it. Slaves, servants, colleagues, friends... None of them were free of their wrath. The smallest mistake could lead to horrifying results. An offhand remark could send them into such a lust for blood, the very air around him could be felt changing at the exact moment something inside them would snap.

His caregiver would hurt people. A lot. Physically. All the time. And they didn't even do it for the right reasons; though what could be considered the right reason to hurt anyone that badly is a mystery to him still. They did it because they wanted to. To force agony under their skins and watch them writhe. They found it amusing; sometimes alluring. The rush. The power. The fear. A twisted fascination for ruined bodies.

They would smile while beating someone into the dirt, laugh when they would scream in desperation. Sometimes, they would even lure them into a trap — they would have the unfortunate soul say something they didn't really mean, or do something they knew they shouldn't really do just so they could correct them.

He always knew his guardian was a powerful figure in the community he was part of; that much was clear in their mannerisms and actions, as well as the other's whenever they were around. He knew they were a little mean with other adults, but he chalked it up to nothing more than stress, or his own imagination. He always assumed it was normal; they were the boss around here after all, that is how someone who rules should act. They knew best, they held the well-being of the rest in their hand. Until he was allowed to see it with his own eyes; until he was no longer sheltered from the visible repercussions of misbehaviour by the person enacting judgement, he would have said he wished to be an outsider like all the others. Someone else, someone more important, someone people would pay attention to. He wanted to be older, so he could have a say in his own life.

Now, he is scared. His thoughts are racing. His skin crawls and shivers. He hasn't even got out of bed yet.

He has been scolded before, but never hurt. He works for the same person that would torture someone else for the hell of it, so the possibility is there. If he was allowed to see real punishment, it must mean there is a reason he was made aware of it. It's Chekhov's gun. Once shown, it will have to go off at some point.

He has to talk to them about it. He loves them, he really does. They are the one who take care of him, protect him, feed him. They make him laugh, let him sleep in their bed after a nightmare without hesitation, treat them with kindness. They are as close to a parent as it ever got for him. But his childish curiousity would have never allowed him to keep himself in the dark.

So they had the talk. He asked all the questions he wanted to, and his guardian answered each and every single one truthfully. He remembers every single word from that conversation so clearly, ironically, as if his life depended on that information; —

"Did you hurt Mr. Owen's eye the other day? His face was all bruised and he didn't seem to want to tell me why." — An off-handed start. Casual. Like it is a normal thing to conversate about over dinner.

"Yes. He spoke out of turn. You know I can't stand that." — They did it for no reason. Of course. That wasn't even a question.

"Have you been hurting everyone all this time?" — A little push. They should pick up on where this is going already. They surely do.

"Yes." — No elaboration needed.

"Why didn't you tell me?" — An important question.

"You were too young to know." — Ah. He was too young. Was. His heart stutters, but he trudges on.

"Why now?" — Was it intentional? A conscious choice? A decision, to expose him so suddenly to what lies ahead of him?

"It had happened already, and I could not take it back. You aren't a kid anymore either. I assumed you were mature enough." — It wasn't supposed to happen, but he is supposed to be able to handle it by now. Because he is not young anymore. He is old enough. Why does it feel like his ribcage is shrinking?

"Why do you hurt them?" — A pointless question. One to deter his own thoughts. He already knows the answer.

"Because they deserve it. Because they need to remember their place. Because I want to." — Because they want to.

"Isn't scolding them enough?" — A half-hearted suggestion.

"Not enough. Not for me." — If it was, they wouldn't take so much time out of their day to beat someone into a pulp as punishment for not keeping eye contact long enough.

"Why isn't it enough for you?" — A desperate question, though it comes out as smooth as a compliment.

"Why would it be? Why wouldn't I hurt them for messing up? That's how they learn." — How they learn. The ones powerless to stop them. If that's how they learn...

"...Why don't you hurt me then?" — A terrifying question. Almost an invitation. He hopes it doesn't come across that way.

"You're my family." — Right.

"You hurt your brother that one time too..." — A question, but hidden. If he deserves it, though he's also your family, how come I don't?

"Well, he's an adult, he can take it." — He's an adult.

He's an adult.

Of course. He hasn't seen them hurt anyone but grownups. All the ones that they are supposed to be on even grounds with. He doesn't see many people his age around, but maybe that's for good reason. The only kid around is him; taken under the wing of this sadistic monster.

He did not ask more questions, though one little thought he cannot chase from his mind. As he pulls air into his chest again by force, and lets it slither out of him in a hopeless sigh, the words are a constant buzz. He will have to ignore them for the whole day. He knows it will be impossible.

He will work the whole day like he does any other day because that's what he is supposed to do, like all the adults. He was taught well the consequences of failing to follow orders.

He will stumble home after an exhausting day — narrowly avoid breaking down in the doorway from the same words that were buzzing in his head having turned into screaming — to greet his guardian with a smile.

There they will stand with a warm expression, a present in their hands and a birthday cake on the table, proudly telling him he is an adult now. How incredible it is that's he's really all grown up. How he can drink, and see all the horror movies he wants, and all these other news that are supposed to be great and fill him with joy.

And there he will be, holding back tears, because the only thing running through his mind will be the one question that has haunted him ever since the talk, burning his throat; —

"Will you... hurt me, too?"

#whump #my writing #whump writing #fear #sadistic whumper #bad caretaker #minor whump #child endangerment #nothing actually happens or has happened or will happen #spoiler alert: he will ask the dreaded question and the answer will be #of course not. why would i ever hurt you? #bc caretaker may be a horrible monster but at least they keep whumpee safe right #right guys #theyre my second ever caretaker ive ever written give it up for my second ever caretaker #dont expect any more any time soon #referenced torture #referenced abuse #carewhumper

[imalittlewoodenboy]

Do you want to read a fantasy story about trans/queer characters?

Do you want a novelized exploration of what it means to be masculine?

Do you have Jesus related daddy issues?

Do you want a story with a gay trans male lead where:

-None of his problems are trans hate related?

-He (spoiler alert) will not die?

-No one gets raped at any point?

Then boy do I have a story for you. I am looking for beta readers to give feedback on my draft. I have tagged properties that influence, and inspire me, hoping that fans of those might also be interested in this.

The first chapter is below, thank you for your time and attention!

Chapter 1. The Heat

The light was warm as the dry evening air. Fires danced over the fabric that draped over support poles of hearty wood. The woodgrain had stripes of a pinkish color, and tan running through it. Cypress. Sounds of laughter and conversation poured from the mouths around the table as the group dined on dry bread, mild cheese, slightly withered fruit and nuts. The wine was warm, but perfect. The evening itself was agreeable compared to the previous hours, even though the air was oppressively hot on tired, weathered bodies. It seemed not to bother the men. All but one. Tone’s broad shoulders were sunken just a fraction lower than most days. Strands of the darkest brown hair fell over his forehead, tickling the slight bump in bridge of his long nose. The hair clumped together with dust and sweat from a day of travel. Many days actually.  His thick black brows furrowed over equally black lashes, and thin lips parted for need of water. It seemed they only had wine. 

The festivities and the men paid no heed to their leader’s shoulders nor brows. They asked him eagerly when they would move on to the next city. Asked his plans. Asked the future- believing he could give it to them. “Lord, we must be growing ever closer to the desert city.” Shari said. She was a thickly built warrior with the darkest brown skin that almost appeared purple in some light, and longest hair, intricately tied in box braids. “What do you see for us there?”

“Surely we mustn’t spend much time there. We could arrange our way back to Dalgen.” Taran cut in. He had a serious brow, that hung down over his eyes, and long curly black hair that contrasted against his rich Sienna skin. He was muscular too. He was the only one of his skin in the group. Foreign even in a diverse group, and the only one who seemed unfased by the opposing heat.

“We mustn’t forget how our people suffer, untreated there.” Early spoke next. He was young, with dirty blonde hair, and stubble all over his face. He had pale skin, like Tone, but where Tone had burned in the sun, Early had tanned, only making his teeth whiter, and his eyes more blue. “When will we go back to dalgen to help them?”

Tone’s eyes, tired, amber, and surrounded by fine lines, were no less captivating beneath their heavy lids. They bounced to each and every party member that spoke to him. They couldn’t go back to Dalgen. A dread filled his mind at the mention of it. Even if he told them that, only more questions would come. Though he could not give them the answers they wanted, he could give them attention. That wasn’t nothing. Was it? Would that be enough for them? to have his gaze for a moment? Did he dare divert it long enough to search their table for a jug of water? Jonathan was from Emor. He was fine featured in a way that made him look near a decade younger than his age. His hair was cut to one length, ending midway down his neck. It hung in big loose waves, dark brown, and soft. He watched from afar, watched the men pour Tone over with questions. Tone looked thirsty. Would he speak up for himself, and stop them wanting more from him? Even Jonathan couldn’t take his attention off of Tone. He had something that commanded everyone’s attention. It was refreshing just to look upon him. He was their leader, not by his own choice, but by his very nature.  “Why must you beg for the future?” His gentle, calm, stable voice finally broke through the group, and settled the clamor. Everyone seemed to exhale, in relief, or maybe satisfaction, and look to the source. Tone was sitting just a little straighter. “As I’ve told you, I am no god. I don’t know the future, and I should not want to. Knowing the future would be a curse, not a blessing. It won’t bring it faster, nor make you more prepared. The future is ever changing, and we have little power over it. All we can, or might do is in the present.” The group listened with baited breath, all eyes on Tone. No one could look away. He looked to their faces a long, melancholy moment. “For instance, you all know that you will die someday, but knowing when, or how, would only inhibit your life. You would wish you didn’t know.” He looked down at the table. 

He’d barely finished speaking, and the clamor resumed. The party looked to each other now, lauding the wisdom of their leader. “I must record that one.” Ayoade mumbled, searching for parchment to write on. 

“He speaks the truth, we must focus on what is at hand.” Taran agreed, speaking to Shari.

Early still looked dissatisfied. Many of them were, but Tone had teased at professing. He did it so rarely, everyone had to take it seriously.

This small speech at least gave Tone a moment where no one seemed to be looking at him directly. The pale shoulders sunk again, and he took the moment to rest. He knew all too well that they would be at him again in moments. How this joyous supper with friends felt like a battle for survival. How weary he was. How hot his face felt. It was so warm, even though the sun had set hours ago. 

As if Jonathan knew, he slowly approached with a pitcher of cool, sloshing water, and poured it into a clay cup in front of Tone, then slowly knelt beside him. This action required the man next to Tone, Taran, to move down slightly. Everyone wanted to sit near Tone, but Taran was his right hand man. He always was there by his side. He moved out of the way of Jonathan with obvious annoyance for such a slight. 

Tone saw the water, and barely seemed to notice Jonathan at first. He was so thirsty. Jonathan even went so far as to hand the cup to Tone the moment he was done pouring. Tone looked in Jonathan’s eyes for just a fleeting glance of true gratitude. It was too short, but no less intoxicating to have his attention. Tone drank deeply. His pale throat bared, and red from the heat. Thin, chapped, pink lips on the beige clay cup. His hand surrounded it remarkably. It was so large. Jonathan’s eyes caught on his pronounced adam’s apple next. It bobbed as Tone swallowed. As he pulled the cup from his lips, a drip formed at the corner of his mouth. Jonathan had a cloth on his belt, and pulled it to Tone’s cheek to get the drip.

Tone felt better, but a drink of water, however wonderful, couldn’t heal a tired body in this hot night air. The cloth could wipe the drip of water, but it would shortly be replaced by sweat. Again, as if Jonathan knew, he took the cloth, and dipped it in the cool water pitcher. “Allow me to try and cool you, my lord.” He offered, and pressed the cool, wet cloth to Tone’s forehead. 

It was perfect. Tone relaxed into the touch slightly, and his next blink dared to be a slow one. The cool wetness of the cloth was just what he needed. Jonathan always had just what he needed. A few of the men around him had tuned back in, and were starting to speak to him again. Tone wouldnt have time to relax. The slow blink would be all the reprieve he could get it seemed. He felt the touch. Analyzed it. Remembered it. Just what I need. He actively thought to himself, but what the others needed was their leader. He caught a distasteful glance from Taran, the man that Jonathan had shifted away from Tone. 

Jonathan drank in the moment that Tone’s body seemed to unclench. That tiny moment that he leaned toward him before the attention of Taran and the others soured it. The others didn't even see him relax, it was so brief, but Jonathan felt it. He had helped for what it was worth.

When Tone glanced around he saw two others looking too. Anders, and Ferdinand. His mind reluctantly gave up the milisecond of relief, and he leaned away from Jonathan’s touch. A frustration grew in him that he knew was misplaced. How could Jonathan know him so well? How could he see just what he needed, but not see how giving it to him would backfire? Why did he always have to fulfill those needs so instantly, when he couldn’t enjoy the comfort? Jonathan, all that is good, must you know me over supper? Tone thought to himself, wishing he could communicate to Jonathan that he was right- he needed this. We’re unwedded, and you’re far too young. This looks inappropriate, and you know it. They already assume things based on your profession. Must you always give me just what i need right here and now? Could you fit all that in a glance? He tried to without letting the others see. More and more attention turned back to him. “That’s enough, Jonathan.” Was all Tone said, a little sharply as he shifted away from him. “… Thank you.”  Jonathan pulled the cloth away as Tone thanked him, then refilled his water, even though it was in short supply. A secretly rebellious statement. A tiny little ‘You deserve comfort’ in response. It didn’t go unnoticed by Tone, as they shared one last minuscule glance. Jonathan left, only seconds after sitting down in the first place, to look after the needs of the other party members. He stood from the pillows on the ground, and his bare legs under his short tunic were between Tone and Taran for a moment before he walked off.  The legs between them were what set Taran off. “I don’t see why you waste your time with someone like him.” He said, barely a moment after Jonathan was out of earshot. It was bold, but Tone trusted Taran more than any of the others for his moral drive. “I can understand the appeal… if someone were interested in young men… but… an Emorian..?” he searched for the right words, trying not to sound judgmental, when he clearly didn’t approve. “I understand and agree with your teachings on treating sex workers with kindness, but for others to see you with him like that…” he trailed off a moment. “To let him touch you so… It doesn’t suit your image. It doesn’t inspire devotion. It makes you look like any other man. Sinful.. mortal.”

Jamie added on. “And he’s Emorian. To be so close with a teenager… especially if he comes from the very race that abuses ours…”  Tone kept his gaze straight forward. Of course what Taran, and Jamie said was understandable, true even. That didn’t mean Tone liked it. It didn’t make it fair. He got more tense with every word. The logic Taran spoke was justified, but his attitude was not. He spoke of Jonathan’s profession with venom. With distaste. Taran thought Jonathan lesser for his past. Jonathan caught Tone’s eye across the space, serving wine to a group of men.. all of them nearly twice Jonathan’s size, and totally ignoring him. As if he were some sort of slave, or object. Nonetheless, Jonathan was smiling. He was sweet. There was a purity of spirit about him in stark contrast to the way all the men seemed to see him.. as dirty. distasteful. As Taran spoke, more of the men turned their attention in agreement. Anger, and fatigue swirled in Tone’s shoulders as they raised, and he snapped at Taran. 

“I’m amazed that men such as yourselves can be so blind.” Tone worked to speak calmly, but heat grew in his words. “We work tirelessly in every town we visit to do what?” He asked rhetorically, looking to all their blank faces. “We help people who’s humanity has been ignored. We feed, we heal, we care for those who have been ignored. How can you work so hard to restore humanity to others, and yet ignore his?” All attention was on Tone again as his voice began to raise.  “There is not a man among you who personifies my teachings such as he.”  “My lord, we have devoted our lives to spreading your wisdom. He has chosen a sinful occupation. One of greed. Surely he is the shallow one..?” Early put forward, and a few were brave enough to agree. Jonathan had been serving the men, but now that all of their group was focused on Tone’s rare heightened state, Jonathan had caught on that the conversation was about him. He made himself scarce before Tone could spot him, but stayed just past some of the colorful fabric of their tent. No one could get far enough from each other on an expedition like this- when all the walls were fabric.  “You’ve misunderstood me then entirely.” Tone snapped, jumping to his feet. His voice had always been powerful, even when it was quiet. It was smooth, deep, and felt like his words were dipped in warm honey. The kind that tastes so good you don’t even mind getting your hands all sticky. But now, it boomed, and excited the listeners. Even though he was mad, it was still beautiful to listen to. “He cares for his fellow human. He doesn’t see it as… demeaning to serve drinks and to cook or clean for us.” His voice boomed. At this point, unseen by all present, Jonathan left earshot. He went to the furthest tent to avoid hearing more. It was almost as if hearing positive words of him from Tone was too much. he felt unworthy of such attention, even if he had wanted it moments ago. It was like looking into the sun. “He just wants to take care. You’re all happy enough to enjoy the fruits of labor that you so despise.” Tone spat, looking to each of them directly. Taran, Shari, Ayoade, Anders, Grace, Early, Qiana, Jamie, Sam, Ferdie. Finally, silence. From all of them.  The moment grew long, and Tone realized how it must have looked. Someone dared to question his interest in a prostitute, and he snapped at the whole group. A rather out of character snap as well. They would certainly have their theories now. Was there even anything he could do to stop them…? No action would have stopped the speculation. Especially now. The effort of the day finally caught up, and Tone realized what he should have known hours ago. “I will go on a walk alone.” He stated to dumbfounded, guilty, and resentful faces. Then promptly turned, and walked out of the tent, scattering a group of servants that had dared listen in to his rare, but beautiful raised voice. His sandals drug through the sand as he stormed off. He was an imposing height that, even though he was quite slender, and docile in attitude, could still intimidate when moving as quickly as he did. He disappeared over a sand dune, and no one dared go after him.  “It is dangerous for him to get so familiar with whores” Grace said bluntly, brave now that their leader was out of earshot. Tone had never yelled like that at him, but he was of the few that weren’t phased by it. Though Grace was the smallest of their group, he could be the most brave. Or brash. Jury’s out.

Taran nodded “I am devoted to our leader and our cause- you know I would only have brought it up because of outside perspective” He pointed out. “If the crowds start to see him as not following his own ideals… well it puts us all in danger.” 

“It doesn’t help our cause, you’re right” Jamie said through squinted eyes. His pale skin had freckled in the sun, and left his face covered in spots. Though many of them had European skin, his seemed the most out of place here under red hair.

“He’s right.” Anders said through the conversation, and people perked up to listen to him. Anders had long dirty blonde hair, and pale skin.“He has taught nothing but humility. We are quick to judge Jonathan’s profession, but slow to realize that few people would choose that profession.” he seemed to think out his words carefully “Perhaps… we don’t like Jonathan because he makes Tone seem too human.” he realized. “He makes him just a man..” he trailed off. Some seemed to take this in. Some heartily disagreed.

“Just a man.” Shari said with a soft laugh. “As if you could really believe that of Tone.”

“Just a man or not, the public thinks him a god. It only helps us to maintain that. If they realize he’s not, they’ll call him a liar.” Taran argued.

“He never said he was.” Ferdie pointed out. 

“You think that matters to a mob?” Taran retorted.

The conversation slowly began to pick back up, several debating about Jonathan, never checking to see if he was even still there. The sky was purple and cloudless against indigo dunes, and the horizon stretched out in all directions. Their camp was comprised of 3 tents. One large, colorful, and open, where they had their supper, then one larger tent where all the followers slept together on their individual mats. The remaining tent was for some servants, their faithful pack ferret, and food storage.  Tone had retreated far enough to a high dune that overlooked the little valley which their camp was set up. He stood with their tall pack ferret. The very first one they had got when they set out on their journey. He was old and grey now, with white hairs littering his lively face. Tone leaned his head against the big creature. He had carried their bags and tents so dutifully for so long. Tone wondered if it was time for their old friend to retire. His mind went to Jonathan next. He felt a guilt over his treatment. Jonathan had come and given him such refreshment, such reprieve, and Tone didn’t offer anything in return but frustration. He would need to remedy this. 

Torches of fire mimicked the many stars in lovely yellows offset by the blue shadows of night. The air was still oppressive, and Tone wondered what options he had for the night. He had to return soon, both in need of rest, and to quell any question that he was off with Jonathan somewhere. They all had seen him all hours of their time together. They knew well that Tone had no time alone, not to mention enough time alone for a prostitute’s services. He slept in full view, with all of them there in the communal tent. Though spacious enough for them to have their own corners, there wasn’t privacy. All could be heard, and most could be seen. When he went back, he would surely face the group, and have to withstand more conversations, and questions. If he didn’t… he’d not be able to lay down. That motivated him to make the trek back to his bedroll. Back down the hill to the welcoming firelight. There was light on the horizon too, he noticed. They’d be in a town again by the next night. Chapter 1.1 Chapter 1.2 Chapter 1.3 Chapter 1.4 Chapter 1.5

#netflix sandman #sandman #the sandman #our flag means death fanart #our flag means gay #dreamling #ftm ns/fw #ftm #novel #writing #good omens #outlander #lord of the rings #jesus #jesus christ superstar #beta reader #sandman comics #moomin #snufkin

[writercole]

Soldier On 5

Previous

Squares: Power Fatigue @badthingshappenbingo​​ //  Pairings: Soldier Boy x Antigrav (supe reader) Words: 1311 Warnings: Fight, murder, blood, fluffy-ish ending, slight spoilers for season 2 finale. Credits: @flamencodiva​ for being her wonderful self as always and beta’ing A/N: Here it is. The final installment. I won’t be doing much more for SB until after season 3 premiers. Well, I don’t plan on doing more until then.

Series Master List

You took a deep breath and smiled.

Tom was watching you intently, waiting for your answer. His hands fidgeted in his lap as you thought.

“Tom, I would love nothing more than to have you back in my life. But with everything coming, I don’t want to make promises and plans yet,” you replied sadly.

Tom nodded in understanding. “I’ll just have to ask you again after we finish.”

“Please do.”

Three Months Later

You, Link, Mary, and the boys were sitting outside of Vought Tower, getting ready for the planned attack. Everything had gone perfectly; Tom was a full fledged member of The Seven, he’d earned the trust of everyone he needed to and everything was in place.

Hughie’s cell phone beeped, signaling that it was time to begin. Mary had been practicing her teleportation and she brought all of you inside Tom’s quarters in the tower, figuring it was easier to begin the assault from the inside.

Your group was met with the stoic faces of Tom and Annie, both nervous participants in the coup.

Weapons were handed out, everyone receiving an assault rifle and a handgun, some of the men grabbing knives as well. Silence engulfed the room as everyone prepared, nerves getting the better of you.

With a nod, Tom opened the door and crept silently into the hall. He had been giving Homelander the Compound V antidote for the last three months and the results had been noticed. Tom was set to take on Homelander with Butcher, you and Annie would take out the rest of the members of The Seven that would stand against you, Mary and Link would head to the top floor where Stan Edgar would be held until everyone met at his office, and the rest of the group would run interference and take on the non-enhanced beings along the way.

Everything was going according to plan, Homelander was dispatched, The Seven were neutralized and you were on your way up to Edgar’s office, tired and drained, when the loud speaker turned on.

The sound of Link begging filled you with dread and you started running, pushing aside anyone who thought it would be wise to stand in your way. As you made it to the stairwell, you could hear Mary whimpering in pain. It crushed your heart and gave you a boost of adrenaline, pushing your powers back into functioning and allowing you to fly up to the appropriate floor. 

You crept down the hallway towards Edgar’s office cautiously, knowing you were running into a trap. As the office came into view, you saw Stan Edgar’s body slumped in his chair, headless, a brunette standing behind him, facing the window.

“Antigrav, how lovely of you to join us,” a female voice greeted you. “This must be related to you. I thought she looked awfully familiar.” The woman turned around and you recognized her.

“Congresswoman Neuman?”

“Not exactly expected, right?” she chuckled. “I was here, having an impromptu meeting with Stan Edgar, or what’s left of him, when these two burst in here.”

The sound of footsteps alerted you to the presence of the rest of your team on the floor. What you didn’t expect when you turned around was Queen Maeve leading the pack.

“What do you want, Neuman?” the lead supe questioned coldly.

“Oh, what everyone else wants, I suppose,” she replied. “I want Vought gone and supes regulated.”

“Well that’s a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?” Maeve replied as she stepped forward in front of you. “I mean, you’re a supe, too. Wouldn’t you be putting things in place to regulate yourself?”

Victoria Neuman chuckled darkly. “That’s just it, Maeve. They don’t know so technically these regulations wouldn’t apply to me.” She turned her attention back to you with a sarcastically sympathetic look. “But your spawn here, and her husband, would have to register. As would you and baby daddy.” 

You heard a growl come from behind you and Tom stalked forward with his gun raised. Hughie put his hand out and stopped him while Neuman smirked.

“I see,” she commented, looking back and forth between you and Tom. “Baby Daddy is Soldier Boy. Oh this is wonderful.” She stepped towards Mary and you matched her 

“You lay one finger on her and I will blow your brains all over this office,” you threatened, your sights still on the congresswoman. 

“You won’t do anything, Antigrav. You wouldn’t have time -” 

She was cut off by a knife jutting through her throat. While your group had kept the congresswoman distracted, Link had slipped around to Mary who teleported him behind her. You and Tom rushed forward to check on your daughter and son-in-law while Maeve and Annie checked the congresswoman’s pulse.

“Mary! Link! Are you two hurt?” you exclaimed as you neared them, looking over their bodies for telltale signs of injuries. 

Both of them shook their heads as they leaned on one another against the window, both clearly exhausted from the events of the day. You relaxed when you saw they were well, immediately feeling fatigued also. Arms wrapped around you and you turned your head to see Tom holding you up. 

“So what now?” Frenchie asked.

Everyone looked at each other, but no one had an answer for him.

One Year Later

The Vought Tower attack was hailed as one of the most coordinated murder suicides in recent history with Victoria Neuman taking out Homelander and Stan Edgar before turning a knife on herself. While it wasn’t exactly what happened, it was enough to make the world not look too deep into anything.

You stood on your back porch sipping a cup of coffee and watching the sunrise. Your life had been quiet and peaceful since Vought was taken down. A pair of arms wrapped around your waist and you sighed happily. “Good morning, Tom,” you mumbled.

“Good morning sweetheart.” He kissed your neck before he rested his chin on your shoulder, admiring the view along with you. He turned you around in his arms and took your coffee cup from you, setting it on the railing. “Marry me,” he whispered with a smile.

“What?”

“Marry me,” he repeated, a little louder this time. He held up his hand, a silver ring with a princess cut diamond settled on the top. 

You were speechless as your gaze flitted from the ring to Tom. You didn’t know what to say; your head was fuzzy and your mouth was dry. “I…”

“I spent seventy years waiting to see you again and this last year was the best year of my life. I refuse to sit by and wait any longer. I want to spend the rest of my life with the woman that I love.”

Your mind became clear in that instant, knowing exactly what you wanted. “Yes, Tom. Yes,” you mumbled, pulling him down for a kiss. 

Tom kissed you back, breaking away when you heard a wolf whistle behind him. 

“I told you she’d say yes,” Mary gloated with a smirk that looked just like her father’s.

“Yeah, yeah. Is she always this much of a knowitall?” he chuckled.

“Yes,” you and Link replied at the same time, causing everyone to burst out laughing.

“I do have one condition,” you told him. 

“Name it.”

“No more babies. I’m too old for that shit.”

“Deal, sweetheart. Deal,” he replied as he slipped the ring on your finger.

“I hope that doesn’t mean grandbabies, Mom,” Mary said. 

You looked over Tom’s shoulder in disbelief, seeing your daughter wearing an expression reminiscent of the cat that swallowed the canary. Pushing Tom aside, you wrapped your arms around her and started crying, overjoyed at the next generation. 

Two more sets of arms wrapped around the pair of you. You couldn’t have been more at peace. Your family was here, together, healthy, and expanding. 

Soldier On: @stoneyggirl2​ @sexyvixen7​ @flamencodiva​ @that-one-gay-girl​ @downanddirtydean​ @deangirl93​ @charred-angelwings​ @zooaliaa​ @maliburenee​ @spngi​

#cole writes #badthingshappenbingo #soldier boy #the boys fanfic #soldier boy x supe reader #final chapter #the end

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Gender? In THIS Economy?

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

Duke is questioning stuff and goes to Tim for advice. (feat. trans!Tim and nonbinary!Duke)

“Here you go. One Batburger with extra pickles, extra onions, and extra extra mayonnaise.” Duke drops the paper takeout bag unceremoniously into Tim’s lap. “Your taste buds need a tune-up, bro.”

Tim unwraps his burger and takes a bite. Batburger may be questionable when it comes to copyright laws, but damn if they don’t pile on the condiments better than any fast food restaurant in Gotham. “Sounds to me like you simply haven’t reached the sky-scraping level of enlightenment that I have, grasshopper.”

“Enlightenment would have been going to Red Robin and using your uniform to get a discount,” Duke says. He sits beside Tim on the rooftop’s edge, their legs dangling side by side a hundred feet above Gotham’s plunging gray streets. He digs into his own burger and makes a face. “Enlightenment would also be getting the Robin Nuggets next time. This tastes like dried leather.”

“I like it,” Tim says with a shrug. “It has personality.”

“So does raw sewage, but you don’t see me eating that.”

Tim concedes the point. His communicator buzzes in his belt. He checks the screen and discovers an alert from Cass composed entirely of clown emojis and red harlequin diamonds.

Duke notices. “Should we get that?”

Tim pockets the communicator. “Nah, Spoiler’s got it. We have time to relax.” And he’s not about to pass up quality time with the one little brother who doesn’t hate him. It’s hard enough as it is for Tim and Duke to find the time, what with them being on opposite sleeping schedules and work snatching their attention away with grabby, toddler-sized hands.

“Don’t get a lot of that during the day shift,” Duke says. “Every time an alarm goes off, it’s my business.”

Tim knocks him in the side with his elbow. “That’s what you get for turning to the light side instead of kicking it in the shadows with us. More employees to go around.” He sips his soda for a moment. “Why did you come out tonight, anyway? I thought you stayed in on weeknights.”

“Right. I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” Duke says it carefully, like he’s testing the waters. “I need advice.”

Tim has to admit that his chest puffs out a little at that. It’s not often people come to him for advice when Dick and Barbara are right there, all full of adult wisdom that Tim is too pitifully shrimpy to possess. “What’s up?”

“It’s kind of...personal.”

“Yes, Bruce does have special powder for suit-chafing. It’s in the cabinet under the first-aid supplies.”

“It’s not that,” Duke says, though he snorts in half-hearted laughter. He looks down at his hands like he’s dreading the words lodged in his throat. “What was it like, realizing you were a dude?”

One of Tim’s eyebrows shoots up. “Oh.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s an invasive question.”

“No, no, it’s fine. You just caught me off guard, is all.” It’s not like this is the first time someone has asked. Tim used to be uncomfortable talking about it, but he’s grown up since then. Talking about his trans journey is as normal as talking about what he did yesterday. He eats a fry. “What do you want to know?”

Duke searches Tim’s face for a sign that he’s lying, that he should back off. When he doesn’t find one, he asks, “How old were you when you figured it out?”

Tim thinks back. “Nine, I think? But even before that, it’s not like I ever really felt like a girl. I knew there was something wrong, but I didn’t know what. When I first heard about what being transgender meant, everything I’d been feeling until then clicked into place.”

“What was it like?” Duke asks, “growing up the way you did? Presenting as a girl when you knew you weren’t?”

Tim shrugs. “I don’t know. It was life at the time. I dealt with it.”

“Was it hard? Pretending to be something you weren’t?”

Tim doesn’t know what answer Duke is looking for, or why he’s so interested, but he won’t ask. “My parents always had this idea of me being the perfect daughter, all obedient and graceful and crap. I’m pretty sure their hope was to eventually marry me off to the highest bidder so they could reap the business benefits.”

“That sounds awful.”

Tim shrugs again. “I didn’t start feeling any different than I should have until around six or seven. I was always a tomboy. I liked doing boy stuff and playing sports, but my parents thought it was a phase I would grow out of. They’d make me wear dresses and go to fancy parties with them, all the while I just wanted to claw my skin off and go home.”

He remembers the nights he would lie awake in bed, imagining what it must be like to have been born someone else. Anyone else. To grow up as a little boy who was allowed to run around, to get dirty, to be himself instead of following some arbitrary guidelines someone else drew up the day he was born. He imagined what it would feel like to answer to a different name than the one he’d been given, which grated on his ears the longer time went on, like an itchy sweater he couldn’t shed. It was hell.

He gives Duke a sly grin. “But the upside of having absent parents is that there aren’t as many people watching you. No one cared if I went to school in the boy’s uniform instead of the girl’s. No one was there to stop me from cutting my hair short the way I wanted it.”

Duke's eyes widen. “You cut your own hair?”

“It went exactly the way you’re thinking. I had to go to the barber the next day and have them fix it because it was so uneven. But by the end of the day, it was the way I always imagined it. I was finally starting to look like the person I wanted to be.”

Duke stares intently at the remains of his burger as if the universe’s answers to an unspoken question were written in sesame seeds. “Did it get better after that? Did you feel...at peace?”

“‘Course not. The world wasn’t magically fixed just because I took a step in the right direction. My problems didn’t go away.” When he says that, Duke looks almost...disappointed? “But,” Tim adds, “it was better than it was before. I still had to act for my parents and the rest of the world, but I didn’t have to hide from myself anymore.”

“How did your parents react when they found out?”

Tim grimaces. “They...didn’t take it well.” He can still hear his father’s voice in his memories, bringing up therapy and camps and whatever places he could think of that would “fix” his little girl.

“But, after a while,” Tim continues, “it was clear that I wasn’t going to change my mind anytime soon. I guess they figured it would be easier to go along with it than fight me every step of the way. They still didn’t like it, but they tolerated it.”

Duke is quiet.

“Why do you ask?” Tim prods.

Duke’s expression doesn’t give anything away. It’s nights like this when Tim can see how perfectly Duke fits into this mental institution they call a family. For all that Duke thrives in the light, he keeps his cards just as close to his chest as the rest of them. He gives Tim a half-smile. “Just wondering.”

“Okay.”

They fall into weighted silence, the scales tipping on either side of their post, but never settling. Tim waits. He finishes his burger and busies himself with reorganizing the pouches in his belt, giving Duke the privacy to think.

“I don’t know,” Duke starts after several minutes, “if I’m a boy.” He looks at Tim. “I think I might be something else.”

“Okay,” Tim says calmly. “What do you feel like?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve always felt different, y’know? When I was a kid, it was because I was smarter than everyone in my class. And it was fine, because I knew what it was and how it worked and why it was a good thing, being the smart one. It made sense. Time went on, the other kids started catching up, but that mismatched feeling never went away. I never felt right in my skin.”

Duke’s face rises to the dark clouds, the Batsignal shining from the top of the police station like a holy beacon. “Then I met Batman. My powers started to come in and everything clicked into place, all at once. That was why I never felt like I fit in with everyone else, because I was different. I had powers. That must have been it.”

“But it wasn’t,” Tim guesses.

Duke shakes his head. “I thought it would be. I mean, what else could it have been, you know? It should have explained why I never felt at home in my identity. But time goes on, I learn how to use my powers, and it fixes some of it, but not everything. There’s still part of me that looks in the mirror and sees something off. Some detail out of place.”

“Do you feel like a girl?” Tim ventures to ask.

Duke folds over the corner of his straw wrapper again and again in tiny triangles. “Nah, I doubt it. I like some feminine things, but I don’t think I’m a girl. Or a guy. I think...I might be nonbinary?”

Tim does his best to channel Bruce’s “supportive dad” energy and smiles. “Okay. What pronouns do you want to use?”

“They/them, maybe? For a while?”

“Duly noted.” He puts a hand on Duke’s shoulder. “I really do appreciate you telling me.”

Duke rubs the back of their neck, their cheeks flushing. “It feels good to say out loud. Not just in my head.”

“Do you think you’re going to tell anyone else? You don’t have to if you’re not ready, but our whole family will support you.”

“Yeah.” Duke picks at their nails, nodding absently. “I know they will. I’m not worried about that.”

“Then what are you worried about?”

Duke takes a deep breath in, and Tim is reminded of a balloon close to bursting. “My parents aren’t dead. I’m going to get them back. And when I do...what are they going to think when they wake up after half a decade and find out that their son isn’t their son anymore? What if they don’t like the person they see?”

Tim can’t say that he hadn’t swum with the same thoughts years ago, back when the person who is Tim Drake was still on the drawing board. But there’s a difference between his situation and Duke’s. “Your parents love you, Duke. They’re not going to stop loving you just because you’ve grown up since they last saw you.”

“What if it’s too much? The superpowers and the crime-fighting and the new gender...it’s a lot to take in.”

“Well, sure,” Tim says. “It might take some time for them to get used to it, but this is who you are. They’re going to love it just as much as they love the rest of you.”

Duke smiles, and if their eyes are a little misty, Tim pretends not to notice.

“Besides,” he says. “If I were you, I’d just lead with the superpowers thing. Anything after that sounds perfectly acceptable.”

#i know this is choppy i'm sorry i just got sick of staring at the word doc #i want to focus on writing but the other half of my brain is like 24/7 #ravencycleravencycleRAVENCYCLE #it's a struggle #duke thomas #the signal #dc signal #tim drake #red robin #robin #batman #batman and robin #batman and the signal #batfamily #batfam #trans tim drake #nonbinary duke thomas #trans duke thomas #pride month #fanfiction #fanfic

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 128

This is another chapter that I started with one intention and it kind of dragged me the other way. I started with what Miys says at the beginning as a kernel, and...

Yeah, avoiding spoilers, you get...*waves frantically* this.  Which I am excited about seeing where it goes.

Kudos to @baelpenrose​ and @mustachebatarts​ for this chapter. You’ll both understand when you read it :)

Tyche nodded sleepily as Alistair handed her a cup of coffee, mirroring my own struggle to wake up.  It was the beginning of Alpha shift - roughly 6:30am Terran Pacific NorthAm time - and we were starting our week with an extremely rare mission brief. Parvati and Hannah seemed either anxious or excited - possibly a combination - as the last brief they had received was ship-wide when we announced the lighting changes. Neither of them had ever been in one of the Council-only meetings that preceded such announcements.

Due to the growth on the Council - both among administrators and among Mentees - it wasn’t feasible to hold this meeting face to face in the room ordinarily used for such things. As a result, each Councilor was joining from their respective office, along with auxiliary staff who needed to be privy to the information discussed. For someone like Grey, that would be themself, Antoine, and their current admin, Nora. In my case, it was everyone who reported to my office.

“Has everyone joined?” I asked in my role as Parliamentarian for this meeting.  No one liked the position, so it rotated.

“Still waiting on Huynh, Charly, and Ivan,” Eino replied.

“We’re here!” an entirely-too-awake voice greeted.

Ignoring the laugh that Alistair and Hannah were suppressing, I forged ahead. “That’s everyone then. Good Morning, Council. Today is January 23rd, 2051 Terran-relative time, 45th day of Von cold season Year four Pre-Colony. We are currently two Terran years from Von. Miys has requested that we gather this morning for an important mission update so that we can prepare. Miys, you have the floor.”

“Thank you, Wisdom. Good day, Human Council.” I couldn’t tell if Miys had practiced or was operating on multiple minds, but the resemblance to a human public-speaker was startling. “As stated by Councilor Wisdom, the Yjq is currently two Terran years from your destination. We requested to address you in order to advise that navigational adjustments will be necessary within one Terran year of the planet you call Von.”

Murmurs erupted on the conference, but no one actually interrupted, so Miys continued. “Due to the density of systems in this portion of the Galaxy, the final Terran year of the journey cannot be made at our current speed.  The Yjq will need to drop out of relativistic space and complete the remaining leg in realspace.”

“How does this immediately impact the human population?” Grey asked first, hardly letting Miys finish their statement.

“With the sensors operational, there should be no noticeable difference in the transition,” came the answer. “However, there will be the introduction of potential physical hazards once we are in realspace.”

After a pause of silence, Xiomara spoke up. “Are you talking about the potential of being attacked?”

“Galactic law prohibits acts of violence against aide or rescue vessels.”

I heard an explosive snort before an extremely dry voice joined in. “Miys, that is the opposite of an answer,” Evania argued. “And we all know that criminals are famous for their adherence to the letter of the law.”

An alert chirped on my data band, and I almost choked when I saw Arthur’s message: “Oh, I LIKE her…”

“Once we are no longer in relativistic space, the Yjq is due to rendezvous with an Ekomari escort within thirty Terran days.”

“And what is the tactical benefit of that escort?” Evan pushed.

Rather than Miys, Charly responded. “Ekomari are very aggressive, but even more bound by a code of honor.  They view preying on the weak - including rescue and aide vessels - the most disgusting behavior imaginable.  This extends to the point of stopping their own attacks once the enemy is considered defeated.”

“Only an extremely overconfident or suicidal crew would try to go up against an Ekomari squadron that is escorting us,” Arthur finished.

“That is satisfactory. No objections.”

Approval in her tone, Xiomara launched the next question. “What about the thirty days we won’t have an escort? What is normally done on that leg of the journey?”

“Optimally, there is no such period during such a relocation.” I heard every person in my office inhale with dread at that statement. “During this time, there is always an increased concern that pirates and scavengers will attack in an attempt to be the first beings with artifacts from the newly present species.”

“Souvenirs… They want us for souvenirs…” Tyche muttered.

“We will discuss our options once we have all the information,” I stated loudly, trying to keep the meeting going before everyone panicked. “Miys, what other information do we need to know about the final year of the journey?”

“Once we are in realspace, long distance scans and data mining operations will begin for more accurate information regarding Von.  This information will be communicated to the entire Council so that any changes or updates to colony plans may be adjusted and finalized.  That is all for now.”

“Thank you Miys. You may remain in the meeting, as we may need your input regarding Galactic regulations, statistics, or laws.”

“Of course, Wisdom.”

I nodded and took a deep breath. “Xiomara, I’m pretty sure that you and Evan have a lot to say on the matter at hand.  Are there any objections to Health and Safety taking the floor?”

After a round of negatives, I conceded the floor. “Thank you, Sophia. Council, clearly there is a pressing matter in our future, here at the end of a tumultuous era, just as our goal is in sight. We cannot allow thirty days of risk to derail us now. For all that we have striven to show humanity as capable of peace and change, we now need to reach down to the roots of our very existence and ensure that we will not be undefended in that month.”

“Miys, the Ark is equipped with scouting probes and evacuation shuttles,” Evan followed. “What are the chances that we can repurpose those into our own small squadron for defensive purposes.”

“Doing such would invalidate the protection the Yjq is afforded by Galactic Law.”

“Excuse me, what!?” I sputtered, completely caught off guard.

“Hospital ships are only protected so long as they are incapable of defense, to prevent opposing forces from attacking each other under the guise of aide,” Charly explained in a mournful tone.

Evan and I groaned heavily. “At least tell me that the odds of any attackers completely blowing up the ship are low?”

“They would only be able to do so by detonating our drives from the inside.  To do so from the exterior would require more force than a coronal ejection from a white dwarf star.”

That was reassuring at least.

“So we would be safe as long as they don’t board the ship,” Arthur acknowledged.  I could see where his next question was going, but Evan beat him to it by a mile.

“Since we are not Hujylsogox, and are only the cargo of the Ark, there are no prohibitions against us defending ourselves in the event of a forced boarding, correct? Only you, yourself, would not be able to fight back.”

“This is correct, Commander Josue. I am not allowed to interfere in such a matter.”

Interesting wording.  Noah was telling us, as officially as allowed, that it would not fight the intruders, but also would not stop us from any actions we took. I smiled as I felt a confirming nudge in the back of my mind.

“Well, those weapons demonstrations were certainly not just for fun,” Huynh growled.  I could hear Charly cackling in the background before he confirmed to her that, yes, she can play with the construction exos.

“Let’s be organized about this,” Xiomara insisted. “For those comfortable with helping defend, we need to set up anti-boarding drills to start six months out at the latest. For those on the ship who are against violence, sort them into who can provide medical aid and who needs to do evacuation drills.  Eino, Arthur - can you assist Sophia’s team with that?”

“We can,” Eino confirmed, echoed by Arthur.

Parvati and Hannah glanced at each other silently before the former jumped in. “I recommend that at least one person with weapons training is assigned to each evacuation group, as a worst case defense.”

“I second that,” Xiomara agreed in a clipped tone. “Any objections?” A brief, silent pause. “Good. Add that to the strategy.”

“Miys, we need a list of what species are most likely to be found on pirate vessels.  Knowing their biology will go a long way to developing defense strategies,” Arthur requested.

“I like it,” Evan approved. “Ekomari may be honorable, but humanity has survived this long because we aren’t ashamed of taking cheap shots.”

“It is safe to assume that boarding parties will not have electromagnetic vision, as it has been advised that it is quite rare in the galaxy,” Grey pointed out. “We can use this to our advantage, most likely.”

“If we’re lucky to be in the light part of the cycle…” Tyche muttered.

“Administrator Reid has a point,” Pranav admitted, startling her. “If we are in the dark part of the cycle, we will be at a distinct disadvantage.”

“The lights are artificial,” Huynh sighed. “We can turn them on.”

“If I may interject,” Miys responded. “It is not as simple as you seem to believe to increase the light emitters on the entire Ark, Councilor Huynh.  The drain on the ship engines could permanently damage them.”

I could feel Charly’s eyes rolling in my soul when she picked up from there. “We can try to make some plans for that contingency. Pranav does have a point.”

“So that’s anti-boarding drills, evacuation drills, aid teams, threat assessment, and at least a start on evaluating where we stand from a defensive perspective. Once Sophia, Eino, and their offices coordinate who is which group, we’ll pull back up to determine who will be leading which initiatives,” Xiomara recapped. “Sophia, anything else we need to cover?”

“I think that’s the priorities right now,” I confirmed, effectively ending the meeting.  Once I closed out the channel, I turned to those in my office. “So, how do we feel about this?”

“Like you are going to be in one of the evacuation groups, stuffed as far back in the ship as possible,” Tyche stated drily.

“If we get boarded,” I pointed out. “It may not happen.”

“Madam Reid, you are on this ship.”

I scowled at Alistair before turning to Parvati and Hannah. “Reach out to Arthur and Eino to schedule that meeting.”

Hannah looked unsure. “Why are they being loaned to us for this? Eino’s a Councillor.”

The door of my office hissed open and the rhythmic thud of boots walked in. “Because your office, specifically Tyche, handles all ship staffing, while I am being used for physical ability assessments, and Eino literally has nothing to do as head of Education in all this.” Arthur nodded his head in thanks when Alistair handed him tea.

I just pointed at him and nodded. “Besides, this way Xiomara is indirectly involved.” I glanced at Parvati before winking. “It was a clever move, I have to admit.”

Parvati smiled and shook her head. “I can’t even say you’re wrong. That’s exactly why she did it, honestly, on all counts.”

“And that is part of it, too.” Tyche waved. “Work more closely with your fellow future Councillors, and you learn to read what they aren’t saying.  Our office works very closely with Xio’s and Grey’s, so we have to know how best to keep that going.”

Arthur just held his arms wide and shrugged. “I have to respect Xiomara’s tendency to keep her fingers on all pulses.  She’s almost as bad as Sophia that way.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true,” Alistair sighed. “You are profoundly nosy.”

Hannah groaned and threw her head back. “We are never going to be on the Council at this rate.”

“Excuse me?? That’s the point of all this!” I gestured around my office energetically.

“Yes, because you will totally retire,” Hannah said slowly, nodding her head like I was a toddler. “Of course you will, Sophia. We all know it…”

Parvati snickered, covering it badly. Arthur gave me a pointed look, and I could hear him repeating ‘obsessive, compulsive perfectionist’.

I was saved, for certain, weird values of salvation, by Tyche.  She just glanced down at her nails, studying them, before calmly glancing at me. “Charly is dangerously close to getting approval from Sebastian for her proposal of kink night at the Undine.  Think really hard if you want to be on the Council for that, Sophia.  It would be an event, meaning it would come to this office.”

“Yep, retiring soon,” I squeaked.  Laughter erupted around me as my face heated up. “I’m all for sex positivity, but I just can’t fathom the logistics of that. Nope. Not gonna be me. Y’all have fun. Enjoy. All yours.”

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#the miys #humans are weird #aliens #apocalypse #post-apocalypse #science fiction #humans are awesom #humans are space orcs #pirates #plot #strategy

[juyeoniemyhoney]

a soulmate who wasn’t meant to be

You love Jungkook. You’ve always known that much. But after living under the same roof for a year, you finally realise that your love for Jungkook is not at all platonic but in all ways romantic. Your feelings only build as another year passes and finally, one grocery run later, you tell him how you feel. Spoiler alert, it doesn’t end well.

-pairing: jeon jungkook x reader 

-genre: angst, just angst all the way.

-warnings: swearing, Jungkook’s a little bit of an ass in this one

-word count: 3775 words

-A/N: hii this is my first time posting on tumblr but i’ve been writing since like 2016 lol. i hope you like this depressing imagine and stay tuned for more imagines that are coming soon. also, i don’t really even like the ending and i feel like i dragged this out wayyyy more than i should have but oh well, i hope you enjoy it anyway. please let me know what you think and feel free to leave feedback so that i can improve!

---------

When you decided to live with your best friend, you should’ve known you were bound to fall in love. 

Flashback to senior year of high school. The two of you had miraculously graduated with incredibly average grades. Jungkook got into university solely because of his outstanding performance on the rugby team and you had gotten in thanks to pure luck. Seriously though, that was a really close shave. Anyway, the decision to live together when the two of you realised that you were going to the same university came as easy as a spring breeze. 

Which thus began the deterioration of your heart. 

Ever since you met Jungkook in your first year of primary school, his big eyes and beaming smile had always tugged at something in your chest. You had never denied this feeling, assuming it was because you love Jungkook, which you did, just platonically. But having to live with Jungkook made you realise that even though you were with him most of the time, you never really wanted to leave his side. 

For years, you had denied any thought that maybe you might be in love with Jungkook. But you had taken every single thought by the throat and stuffed it deep, deep down inside you, into the deepest, darkest corners of your being, forgotten and left to rot. Every single time your heart fluttered when you looked at him, every single time your skin tingled when he touched you, every single time your cheeks blushed when he did something for you, you had stopped yourself from feeling those things, those pesky little butterflies in your stomach because Jungkook is your best friend, nothing more, nothing less. Even though you know that he always meant more to you than you did to him. 

The one thing you dreaded once you realised that you love Jungkook more than a friend, was your monthly grocery run. When the both of you had first bought the flat — which you had only been able to afford thanks to Jungkook’s kind, high-rolling parents — you had both agreed to always go grocery shopping together, no matter what. You’re not really sure how this agreement came about, but at the time, it didn’t really matter to you because Jungkook was just Jungkook then.

But now that Jungkook is Jungkook, your crush, your heart cannot help but swell with how domestic grocery shopping with Jungkook always sounds. 

And grocery shopping with Jungkook is what you are going through right now. 

Right now, a year after realising that you are romantically in love with Jungkook and two years after moving in with your best friend, Jungkook stands next to you in the feminine products aisle, holding a crumpled piece of paper with grocery items carelessly scrawled on it, his other hand on the shopping cart that is a quarter-filled with household items that the two of you need to last until the next month. Despite how this situation is not at all scary, your heart beats like you are hanging precariously over a high ledge, palms clamming up as you nervously ball up the fabric of your shirt. 

“Which one is it?” Your saliva is stuck halfway down your throat when he asks the question, causing you to choke and cough the saliva up. You seriously need to get better at hiding your nervousness around him, if this even counts as hiding it, seeing as how you are literally not being normal, cool, or calm. You mentally face palm yourself for being you. 

“Um, I don’t see it,” you reply as calmly as you can, relaxing a little when you hear that your voice does not waver at all. 

“Here! Isn’t it this one?” Jungkook exclaims suddenly, scaring the absolute shit out of you and causing you to jump up in surprise, letting out a squeak when you see that it is the brand of pads that you use. You shove the thought that Jungkook does pay attention to you and tell yourself that it is because he has to see it on top of the cabinet in your shared bathroom every time he goes into it. He has lived with you for two years, of course he knows what brand you use, you idiot. 

“Yeah, thanks,” you mutter as you throw three packets into the cart before walking off, hands casually locked behind you as you roam the aisles, not sparing Jungkook another glance as he pushes the cart and follows behind you. You refuse to look at Jungkook and have your cheeks heat up again, especially not after he caught you blushing when you first met up with him fifteen minutes ago. 

Despite the fact that Jungkook had gotten into university solely thanks to rugby, he had surprised everyone by deciding to major in film. Though you had been a little surprised, you knew that film, or anything that had to do with a camera for that matter, had always fascinated Jungkook. And now in his third year of university and a certified adult, Jungkook had decided to get a job and stop relying on his parents. A little later than everyone else, but at least he finally decided to stop splurging the monthly allowance he got on cocktail nights at the bar around the corner. The job he got was a good step for Jungkook but a horrible one for you for he had decided to audition for a modelling company. And he got in. 

Which is why you don’t want to even spare him a glance. Because Jungkook had just gotten off work which meant that he had his hair done up, soft strands of light brown styled so that it was out of his eyes, allowing the light to hit his usually hidden, dark brown eyes, turning them a golden brown that reminded you of slow-dripping, melted caramel. And even though all he is wearing is a sky blue shirt and navy slacks, your mind and heart is going absolutely feral at how well they compliment him, high-waisted slacks cinching his waist and loose shirt hanging off of his broad shoulders. You realise that your arms ache to hold him.  

“What’s next on the list?” you ask, derailing your thoughts, as you nonchalantly survey the aisles so that you don’t have to turn around and look at Jungkook, even though you want to. You want to look and never stop. But he can’t know that. 

“Cereal,” he answers, catching up to you so that he is walking next to you, the end of his sleeve brushing the top of your shoulder. You give into your urge to look up at him and immediately, as if someone has punched you right in the gut, the wind is knocked out of your lungs because he is already staring down at you, a small smile tilting the corner of his lips up. You can quite literally feel your pupils dilate and you pray to god that he did not see it as you quickly but— you hope —casually turn your gaze away from him, nonchalantly asking, “Oh, we ran out?” 

“Yeah,” he replies, stopping to retrieve the cereal from the shelf. You reach out too but he beats you to it, knowing full well that you will never be able to reach the cereal that only sits on the highest shelf. Your heart stops for a while when you can feel him unintentionally press into you, chest brushing up on your ponytail, heat radiating from his body and pulling sweat from the pores of your palms. But the warmth quickly retracts with him as he pulls away from the shelf and haphazardly dumps the box of cereal into the cart before setting off, pushing the cart forward and out of the aisle, leaving your frozen form in the dust. 

You quickly snap out of it and follow Jungkook. 

As you trail behind him, pretending to look at products along the way so that you can stay behind him and play with your thoughts, your mind wanders off. All too suddenly, you are daydreaming, imagining yourself as courageous as you confess your harboured feelings to Jungkook. In this alternate universe that your imaginative mind has created, Jungkook beams down at you and accepts your confession, confessing that he too had been harbouring feelings for you. Jungkook calling your name snaps you out of your delusions. 

“Y/n?” 

It takes you a little too long to realise that he is talking to you but when you do, you reply with the most flustered, the most nervous sounding what you have ever heard leave your mouth. 

“I asked you if you wanted Nutella,” Jungkook patiently asks again. Far too nervous to properly internalise the question and reply with a proper answer, you haphazardly shake your head and pretend to wander off into an aisle filled with shampoo. You honestly don’t know why you said no. Nutella runs in your blood and your stupid diet — which is really just you being far too lazy to actually get up and make food — has your body aching for Nutella. But your pride runs deeper than you expect and you do not correct yourself, allowing Jungkook pass by the Nutella without another glance. 

Now back to overthinking. One of the reasons why you liking Jungkook is so bad is because, well, he has a fucking girlfriend, one who he loves very much. Plus, as if the universe absolutely fucking hated you, Jungkook had told you about said girlfriend, on the bloody day that your stupid ass had finally realised that you were romantically attracted and in love with Jungkook. And as if punching you in the face wasn’t enough, the universe had pierced your heart with the fact that you knew this girl. He had started dating Yoora. And you loved Yoora. Or more specifically, you found it humanly impossible to hate that girl. 

Ever the polite and sweet girl, Yoora had helped you pick up the wind-scattered pages of the love story you had written, handing them to you with a sweet smile and wishing you a good day ahead as she walked off. After that, you seemed to see her everywhere. So much so, that she had finally decided to approach you one day and become acquainted with you.

The aching pain of your unrequited love only continued, with each glance at Jungkook. You had also third-wheeled on a number of their dates and watching Jungkook look at Yoora, or someone who wasn’t you for that matter, with so much love squeezed your heart painfully, as if the universe was trying to wring a towel dry and your heart so happened to be said towel.

And Yoora being nice to you isn’t helping either. She has always looked at you kindly even though you are literally living with her boyfriend. Maybe she has always assumed you are gay or don’t harbour any feelings for Jungkook, or maybe she has always thought the best of you, that even if you did have feelings for Jungkook, you would never even dare try for him. 

So how on earth are you supposed to love him when Yoora’s kind and understanding eyes always flash through your mind when you think about Jungkook? How on earth are you supposed to hate her for stealing Jungkook away from you when she has been nothing but nice to you? But at the same time, how on earth are you supposed to like Yoora when she is the reason Jungkook is impatiently waiting for you to finish with your last year in university so that you can finally move out? How on earth are you supposed to like her when she is all that occupies Jungkook’s mind, leaving you forgotten like you are some childhood toy that Jungkook has grown out of? How are you supposed to live at all when those three fucking words take over your body like a goddamn curse, seizing control of your feelings like your heart is some kind of airplane and your feelings for Jungkook are forcing your heart into a nosedive, flying straight into the ground and shattering the feeble vessel? 

The answer is that you can’t. You can’t fucking live. 

“Is that all?” Jungkook asks you after about ten minutes. You did not even notice that you were lost in your shitty thoughts for that long. When you raise your head to look at the cart instead of the floor, you see that it is filled with groceries that will be a pain in the ass to carry home alone. Right, you totally forgot Jungkook is meeting Yoora right after this, which means you’ll probably have to carry everything back by yourself, seeing as how you’ve been carrying groceries home by yourself for the past three months. 

“Yeah,” you reply after your eyes lazily scan over the items, looking up to give Jungkook a weak smile before walking away and leading the way to the cashier. 

Silently, the two of you load the items onto the conveyor belt one by one, allowing the cashier to scan and pack the items into flimsy plastic bags before handing them to you. Jungkook pays since it is his turn and quickly tucks his wallet into his pocket before rushing to help you by taking most of the plastic bags from your hands, leaving you with only one bag. Against your own will, your heart swells with love. 

“Aren’t you meeting Yoora?” you question him as the two of you begin to walk out of the building. Jungkook turns to you and flashes you a bright grin, one that has something splintering in your chest and your breath hitching. 

“I told her to wait a little longer,” he answers, smiling sheepishly, tone hinting that he feels guilty for ditching you for the past three months. As he should. You reply with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

“Also,” he starts, trailing off a little as he pauses to let you walk ahead little before switching places with you so that he is walking on the outer side of the pavement, steps spilling onto the grass when the both of you have to squeeze past people who selfishly idle on the pavement, lingering outside shops for smoke breaks. Your heart’s quickening beat rings in your ears. You ignore it and flash him a grateful smile before he continues his sentence. 

“As I was saying, what’s up, Y/n? You’ve been a little off these days,” Jungkook questions, taking his eyes off the pavements to periodically glance at you, eyebrows knitted together in a concerned frown, teeth worrying his bottom lip. 

Of course Jungkook would think something is fishy. Once upon a time, the both of you could easily read each other like a children’s picture book, it was foolish of you to think that just because he prioritises his girlfriend before you, doesn’t mean that he can’t read your behaviour. It was foolish of you to think that Jungkook had changed at all. So far, he seemed normal. Maybe it was just you. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’ve been cold lately. If you haven’t realised, all you’ve said to me throughout this whole shopping trip were short sentences that end the conversation straight away. And I know you’re always working on your essays for your classes but we don’t even have movie night anymore. Not to mention that you barely even talk to me anymore. So tell me what’s wrong. Did I piss you off or something?” Jungkook explains, a sadness oozing from his gentle gaze that he turns to you as the both of you halt at a pedestrian crossing. The sorrow in his eyes causes your chest to tighten as you find it impossible to talk. Because you miss him too. So much. You would kill just to feel the unadulterated rapture you felt when you were spending time with Jungkook. You really just want things to go back to how they were before you liked him. 

“Oh, I’ve just been going through a lot lately,” you answer, trying to keep your reply as vague as possible, hoping he leaves it at that and waits for you to tell him when you are ready. 

But of course, Jungkook continues to pry. 

“What are you going through? Come on, Y/n, you can tell me. If you do, maybe I can help you,” he bombards you, eyes silently pleading that you allow him to fix your problems. You know he means well. Jungkook has never intentionally caused harm to you but right now, you just want him to drop it. Because how on earth are you going to explain to him that you are in love with him and are jealous of his pretty, smart, kind girlfriend? 

Apparently your brain knows how.

“Well,” you start before you can stop yourself. The look in Jungkook’s eyes makes it impossible for you to just cut it off there, so, you continue. 

“I’ve liked this boy for a long while now but he has a girlfriend. I really want to tell him but I’m afraid it’ll ruin our friendship,” you blurt. At first, your chest feels light, heart finally rid of the words that had weighed it down. But then, you look at Jungkook, gorgeous eyes conflicted as he carefully articulates what he wants to say next. Then, again, your heart fills with an unimaginably heavy weight that sinks it all the way down to your gut. And you cannot help but think, he knows. He knows and he’s is going to break my heart all over again. 

“Can I ask.. who it is that you like?” he asks wearily, as if he is a hunter approaching a wild deer that startles easily. As the two of you turn the corner to your shared apartment, you glance up into his eyes once more and your heart sinks further. Fear. Fear swallows his eyes as he awaits your answer, afraid that what you’ll say next will completely decimate the past fifteen years of your best friendship, afraid that you will completely destroy his trust with your next words. 

And even though you want to lie to him, you find it impossible to. Which is why, before you can stop yourself from blurting it out, you reply with, “You.”

The feeling of complete and utter horror hits you after a second of lag time. Despite the extra second that it gives you to prepare yourself, you do not use it and when the realisation of what you said hits you, it hits you hard, like a million bricks to the face. 

Jungkook stills and you freeze too, too scared to even look at him. The both of you stand on the street, a few steps away from your ground floor apartment, a few steps away from privacy. But you think that at this point, privacy completely flies over Jungkook’s head. 

“I have a girlfriend, Y/n,” he states, as if you didn’t already know. You turn to face him and Jungkook’s expression is not at all far from terrifying. He has never looked at you with such stern, angry expression, eyebrows knitted together in a disapproving frown rather than his previous concerned frown, and it quite literally scares the shit out of you. His gaze has hardened and he looks at you as if you have committed murder — which you have, seeing as how you have completely lynched this whole fucking relationship. 

“I know you have a girlfriend,” you scoff. You swear for a second that Jungkook glares at you. Your heart stops. What have you done?

“I just-“ you start, trying to explain yourself but Jungkook cuts you off by raising his hand. For the shortest of milliseconds, you think that he is going to hit you, slap you, do something. But then, you dismiss the idea, knowing full well that Jungkook will not harm you. He is Jungkook. No matter how angry he is, he won’t ever lay a hand on anyone, especially you. 

“You know I have a girlfriend and yet you decided that it was appropriate to confess your feelings to me now?” he questions in a clipped tone, frown deepening with each thought that passes through his mind. 

“Look, Jungkook,” you start, taking a deep breath before continuing. To your surprise, he listens patiently. 

“I have been in love with you for two years now. Or well, I realised in our first year of Uni. But I’m pretty sure that I’ve been in love with you for far longer than I’ve realised. I know that you have a girlfriend and I know that I’m being selfish and a really shitty friend right now but I’ll be honest, it was beginning to burst out of me, my feelings, the words that I yearned to speak but could not, knowing that I’d be condemned to hell for speaking them. So quite frankly, I know I shouldn’t be scolding you, but I don’t need a fucking scolding from you,” you snap at him. Your breathing is laboured after the words leave your mouth. You pause for a second and watch him, waiting for him to make a move, to blow at you anyway. But he stays silent and you walk away, shoving your key into the lock of your apartment and swinging the door open with so much force that it slams into the coat rack standing behind it, knocking it down. 

Jungkook silently follows you into the house, gently placing down the groceries at the entrance of the kitchenette before he slips back into his shoes and leaves, slamming the door behind him. The slam is loud and resounding, and it feels like the sound waves are reverberating inside your chest, shattering your heart like glass. 

Left in the deafening silence, an air of complete and utter regret filling your apartment like a thick fog, the weight of your’s and Jungkook’s words finally take their toll on you, somehow increasing the gravitational pull on your body and pulling you to the floor. You do not know how you have yet to burst into tears but right now, all you can feel is a numbness that overwhelms your senses, dulling them down. Your ears tune out, your vision narrows, and the cool, tiled floor of the kitchenette beneath your fingers does not feel like cool tile at all. 

God, Jungkook must hate you now. 

And finally, at that thought, the idea of your best friend — or really, your only true friend — hating you, do your tears fall. 

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts fanfiction #jeongguk #jeon jeongguk #bts imagines #bts scenerios #fanfiction #bts angst #angst #jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook fanfiction #fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jeongguk fanfic #bts au #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #college au #bts college au #jungkook college au #drabble #jungkook x y/n

[kireii-writes]

hey! if your requests are still open, may I please request a Yandere Eren Jaeger where like when he escapes his cell after Marley he has the yeagerists kidnap his s/o?

Stay with me

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warning(s): kidnapping, yandere tendencies, minor spoilers (for those who haven’t read the manga), a little ooc

-

the surroundings gave nothing away, except for the sound of horses trotting and the rumble and occasional bump of a carriage- the carriage you were in. confusion hit you like a truck at first, and you opened your eyes only to see nothing. you were blindfolded by your captors, and you could feel something like a gag being placed between your mouth, and the thick rope rubbed against your wrists with every move. 

you had no idea how you ended up in this predicament. you were with some of the newer survey corps members, and the next thing you knew you were knocked out cold and woke up on a moving carriage, gagged and blindfolded. with every passing second, your throat felt dryer and dryer, and the thumping of your heart became louder and louder. deciding not to alert your captors, you continued laying down on the hard wood as you desperately tried to come up with a plan. who were these people? what is their main agenda? and most importantly- why were you kidnapped, of all people? there was no knowing what these people might do, and when they might decide to kill you. if they do, you had to think fast to avoid that dreaded outcome. straining your ears, hoping to pick up any noise that could serve as a clue, but to no avail. 

if there’s two people, you could probably take them out before they brought you to the desired location. but to be sure, you had to assess the situation properly. right now, all you could think of was escape. but even if you tried, you wouldn’t be able to go far before they caught up to you. deciding to wait before taking the next course of action, the loud thumping of your heart was doing nothing but reminding you that with every passing second that you’re not doing anything, you’re closer and closer to death’s door. 

when the survey corp members that were fighting down below on land boarded the airship, you’d waited eagerly until you saw eren being forcefully hurled into the airship by a rather angry Levi. before you could even ask what was going on, the older man already had aggressively placed eren under arrest as the survey corps members filled in hurriedly. seeing the grim look on Mikasa and Armin’s face, you knew that eren had done something without Levi’s permission. as your eyes met Mikasa’s your doubts had been confirmed. making your way towards her, you tried to ask her what had happened down below when Levi stepped in front of you, the look on his face warning you not to ask about what had happened. 

“you’re not allowed to see eren while he is imprisoned.” Levi ordered you curtly. 

“but why?” you asked, unable to accept Levi’s treatment towards eren. first he places him under arrest, and now he wouldn’t allow you to visit him? 

“because i say so, you damn brat.” Levi answered your question brusquely. “that stupid boy thinks he can do whatever he wants, and since he thinks he’s smart enough to take things into his hands and defy orders, he deserves to be locked up after all the commotion and damaged he created. you better not defy my orders too, y/n.” giving you one last look, Levi walked away along with the rest of the survey corps members, leaving you, Mikasa, and Armin together. 

“i’m going to talk to eren.” you informed the other two. without waiting for their replies, you hastily walked off into the direction eren was being dragged away while Levi and the rest were too busy to keep their eyes on you. just as you were making your way into the basement of the airship, two survey corps members caught you. thankfully, they didn’t hear of Levi’s orders and did not question you as to why you were in the basement when you informed them that Levi had ordered you to head down and grab some supplies. as you watched their retreating forms, you were too focused on not getting caught that you didn’t sense someone coming up from behind you. by the time you turned around, it was too late. the next thing you knew, you were stuck in this predicament. 

as the carriage came to a slow stop, you heard footsteps approaching you and you stayed as still as possible hoping that your captors wouldn’t be alerted of the fact that you were awake. you were then roughly grabbed by the arm before being slung over someone’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes before you felt your captor alight from the carriage. 

staying as still as possible, you struggled to pick up any signs of where you could possibly be. ever since you had woken up, you made sure to take note of every turn and twist of the road the carriage was travelling on. but all of a sudden, the carriage stopped in the middle of what feels like a straight path, and you had absolutely no idea where you were at now. as your mind raced to formulate some kind of plan that would allow you to escape, what sounded like a door was being kicked open and your captor continued walking into what is supposedly a room. upon entering the room, you were being roughly thrown onto a chair, forcing you to bite you tongue to stifle a groan.

“could you be gentler?!” a masculine voice spoke up for the first time ever since you were kidnapped. “if he finds out you’re being so rough, he’s going to kill us both.” at the words of the male, your ears perked up as your mind churned with thoughts. who was he talking about?

without warning, your blindfold was removed from your eyes, and the stream of light attacked your eyes, causing you to blink rapidly and squint against the light. 

“you were awake this whole time, weren’t you?” a gruff voice asked you, and although you couldn’t see who it was, it was clear that there were two captors. “what the hell, if i’d known i should’ve made you walk here instead of carrying you all the way.” 

“knock it out already! this isn’t the way to treat our saviour’s love, if he finds out you’re being rude, your head will roll.” the first man scolded. squinting your eyes as you adjusted to the light, you scanned your surroundings, hoping to find some form of exit. unfortunately, the only exit was behind one of the men who had brought you here. you could try the window to your right, but it would be near impossible to make an escape with the little time you have. as your guts churned with dread and a trickle of cold sweat ran down your spine, one of them had approached you and proceeded to undo the ropes that were binding your hands together. 

“please don’t be afraid of us, y/n.” the man sounded out as he undid the ropes on your wrists. “we don’t plan to hurt or harm you in any way, trust me.” the man continued as you thought of another way to escape. “we’re part of the yeagerists, ad we’ve brought you here as part of our orders from our savior, the one who would save us all from this doomed world. the man offered you a small smile as he stepped in front of you and removed the gag from your mouth.

by now, you weren’t able to think straight. your hands instantly started becoming cold and clammy as you felt the energy drained from you. who are these people, and what are they talking about? ‘our saviour’? who the hell was that? were they planning to use use as a sacrificial or something? you were so caught up in your own thoughts, the pounding of your head getting louder and louder, so much so that you didn’t notice the door opening until you heard a familiar voice. 

“y/n.” at the sound of the third person, you looked up in the direction of the voice that brought you a sense of comfort and warmth all the time. there was no doubt about it- there in the doorway stood eren, your beloved, a smile on his face. 

your first instinct was to run towards and into the arms of the man that would hold you to sleep every night, but the confusion of seeing him here rendered you unable to move from your seat.

“how did you- why are you-” you fumbled over your words as eren made his way towards you and squatted in front of you, a smile on his face as he brought a hand up to caress your cheek. 

“how i escaped isn’t important, y/n. what’s important is that you’re here now, and that it all that matters to me.” eren answered the burning question in your mind, his head buried in your lap. “i’m so glad you managed to make it here safely, y/n.” eren sighed as he nuzzled your thigh. 

“eren, what’s going on? why am i here? why are you here? who are these people?” at your questions, eren couldn’t help but chuckle. “relax my love.” he soothed as he traced circles absentmindedly on your thigh. “these people are part of the yeagerists- people that follow me and like me, believe that this wretched world needs to be changed. and they’ve entrusted me with their hopes and lives to create a new world where everything would be fine. i told them to bring you here, so i could talk to you, my love.”

‘what did you want to talk about?” you questioned as you narrowed your eyes at your lover. you had this nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach that it was something that could change your entire life. 

“i want you to stay with me.” eren looked up, his eyes never looking away from yours. 

“what do you mean? we could stay together, we already are, aren’t we? we’re still together in the survey cor-”

“no.” eren’s cold and harsh tone cut you off. a look of shock took over your confused one as you looked into the eyes of eren. he had never once raised his voice at you or talked to you in this tone before, why was he so worked up?

“i meant, away from the survey corps, away from anyone who thinks that this world doesn’t need to change.” eren continued in a gentler tone. “the survey corps clearly don’t see the need for me to change this world we live in, but i know you do, don’t you?” 

“eren, are you crazy?!” the words flew out from your mouth before you could even know it. whatever, there was no taking it back, you might as well just say whatever’s on your mind and hope that eren doesn’t kill you. “eren, you can’t defy the survey corps and go about doing as you please, you have a responsibility to uphold! think this through!” you pleaded with eren, but the man clearly had no intention on changing his goals. you knew that once eren was set on something, he wouldn’t waver and change his mind that easily no matter what others told him.

in one last attempt to dissuade him, you brought up the last two people that he wanted to hear about. “what about Mikasa and Armin? have you thought about how they would feel?” you asked gently as you cupped eren’s face in your hands. the slight widening of his eyes at the mention of the two people he was closest to brought a tiny silver of hope into you heart. maybe, maybe he would rethink this after all.

“as long as i have you by my side, nobody else matters.” eren turned and face you, his big hands overlapping your smaller ones. “so will you stay with me, my beloved y/n?”

you were torn. torn between your loyalty towards the survey corps and eren. should you decide to follow the survey corps, you knew that eren would not hesitate to kill you in order to stop you from leaking any information. but if you agreed to follow eren to the ends of the earth and his plans do not succeed and is captured by the survey corps, you knew that Levi and the rest would not spare your life too. 

letting your hands fall to your sides, you tore your eyes away from your lover as you looked down at your feet. swallowing hard, you gave him your final answer. 

“no. i cannot support you this time.” 

at your answer, eren removed his hands from yours, and a deathly silence hung over the both of you like stale air. embracing your fate, you were prepared to die at the hands of eren. slowly, eren got up, and gently tilted your head to look up at him. 

“then i’m sorry, my love.” eren replied, his thumb rubbing your cheek gently. “i’ll have no choice but to take you away from this lie that they have fabricated. i’ll take you away and together, we’ll create a world that you deserve to live in. i didn’t want to take you away without giving you a choice, but i realized that no matter what, i want- and i need you to be by my side. and if it means having to take away your freedom, i’ll gladly do it.” 

“why?” your voice barely above a whisper. 

“because i love you, and i want you to stay with me, no matter what.” eren smiled softly at you. “i promise you, i’ll make this world a place where you’ll never worry about your life anymore, just for you. all you have to do, is to stay with me.” 

#anime #aot imagines #aot x reader #eren x reader #eren yeager #snk eren #yandere #yandere x reader #levi ackerman #snk x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren jaeger

[tinamaetales]

Fine, not fine

When the pandemic broke out in 2020, I was left with nothing to do. Our WFH arrangement during those times is not something I consider as a heavy workload so most of the time I just find myself alone with my own thoughts – which is one of the scariest scenarios for me. To kill time and distract myself from my own self-destructive thoughts, I decided to watch documentaries on Youtube but there really isn’t enough for me so despite not having a huge salary, I decided to subscribe to Netflix and from then on, I was able to watch a lot of movies, series and documentaries. I really wanna write a reflection on each of the stuff I’ve watched but I’m too lazy these days (and yet, here I am writing one).

As I mentioned, I watched a lot of stuff on Netflix but the last three that I’ve watched lately (before I start being invested with American Horror Story series), Angel’s Last Mission: Love, The Good Place, and Mystic Pop-up Bar tend to have a common theme – life, death, afterlife. I didn’t even do it on purpose; I was just really interested in the plot of their stories. What these 3 shows have in common is that they discuss about the morality and consequences and these days, I’m really interested in those topics. Lately, I’ve been questioning myself about what kind of person I am – am I good or bad? I also keep on having an internal debate with myself as to whether or not there is an afterlife and if there is, then where will I end up? Heaven or hell? Those questions are kinda giving me some headache these days but at least it’s a good distraction from my own self-destructive thoughts. Somehow, Philosophy seems interesting to me now (during my College years, I dreaded that subject but still managed to get a 1.25 final grade lol). Anyway, here are my thoughts about the shows:

Angel’s Last Mission: Love

Major lesson: Keep the faith

This kdrama has such a beautiful way of presenting its story that you will fall in love with it in just the first episode! (Also because Kim Myung Soo’s dimples are to die for, omg I’m so in love) Anyway, this drama’s plot is interesting: an angel who disobeyed the law (he’s not allowed to meddle with the lives of humans especially since he’s a guardian angel for animals) on his last day was given the most difficult mission – to make the fallen ballerina know what love is. As I am writing this, I can’t help but feel emotional because the show knows how to attack one’s heart. I will not be telling more of its plot for I might end up spoiling it so I’ll just provide my major take away from this kdrama. (This is one of those kdramas that I can watch again and again coz it’s beautiful)

I was raised in Catholic faith, which is really not a surprise for a Filipino like me since this country is heavily influenced by the Catholic Church, but ever since I’ve become an adult and finally opened my eyes and allow myself to stop living under the notorious gaslighting of people around me, I struggled with my faith in God. It’s really difficult living a traumatized life. In 2018, I seek for professional help and was diagnosed with Dysthymia and Social Anxiety Disorder. And despite therapy and medication, I have not yet healed and sometimes feel like my situation is getting worse. As such, I felt so alone in my struggles which became the reason why I relate to Yeon Seo’s character. People labeled her as a cold bitch and most of them are expecting her to just move on and heal without fully understanding where she is coming from. When Yeon Seo said “Do you know what it feels like to be left behind? It feels like I’m abandoned alone in an endless desert” it hit close to home. I know that one’s pain should not be an excuse for acting up and being mean but people should also understand that healing is different for all of us – we heal at our own pace at our own time. Pain can change a person – I know it fully well for I’ve become a completely different person because of all the pain I’ve been through. But what this show taught me is that God is a merciful God and He will not let us be drown into the abyss of darkness…..somehow, He will make a way to get us back on track and sometimes it’s in ways we never imagined it to be. Like how they sent angel Kim Dan into Yeon Seo’s life, God will also be sending us the answer to our prayers for He loves us and He is the only one who will never give up on us – even though we gave up on ourselves.

The Good Place

Major lesson: There is hope for humanity

I’ve been obsessed with sitcoms since 2019 (if I remember the year correctly) for they’re easy to watch and just fun but I never expected that a sitcom will make me become philosophical and somehow question my own morality: am I a good person?

For a show with only four seasons and fifty-three episodes, The Good Place sets the bar high for a sitcom.  It did not drag its plotline but is able to tell the entire story in a way that leaves the viewers satisfied with it. The Good Place is a story *SPOILER ALERT* that revolves around the afterlife lives of the four main characters: Eleanor, Chidi, Tahani, and Jason who all end up in the “good place” because they earned enough points on Earth but there’s a catch, two of them are not actually meant to be in the good place. Eleanor and Jason both mistakenly went to the good place because they died at almost the same time as someone with the same name as them but the other two actually deserved to be in the good place. The dilemma started when Eleanor admitted the truth to Chidi, a Philosophy professor who specialized in Ethics for he is torn between helping them or snitching on them. But perhaps the biggest plot twist of all, *SERIOUSLY STOP READING IF YOU DON’T WANT ANY MORE SPOILERS* they are not really in the good place. All four of them are in the Bad Place disguised as the good place and they were specifically chosen to torture each other, just like what Jean Paul Sartre said, “Hell is other people” Now this gets interesting because while none of these four people have committed heinous crimes which can then make them deserving of a spot in the bad place, the actions they’ve done during their lifetime on earth has bearing. At first I find it surprising how Chidi and Tahani end up in the bad place considering that Chidi spent his life in the pursuit of goodness and Tahani is a philanthropist who raised millions of dollars for charities. But then, as the show progressed, I understood. Chidi’s vast knowledge of morality made him become an indecisive person which led towards the suffering of others. Chidi made other people suffer because he finds it difficult to make a choice. On Tahani’s part, she raised millions of dollars to help improve the lives of others but such is a self-serving interest – she did not do those things because she wanted to help but because she wants to make herself look good. On Eleanor’s part, while she did not commit serious crimes, she was a big ass jerk towards others during her time on earth. With Jason, although he is kind, his actions often lead to disasters and although unintentional, harm towards others. With these in mind, I guess it’s safe to say that humans are doomed for the things we do are most of the time self-serving. It’s hard to make it to the Good Place because in one way or another, we do some things that affect others in a negative way. But what this show also taught me is that while it’s true that hell is other people……humans have a chance to improve and be better when given the proper environment as well as when they help each other out. Just like what Michael said “The point is, people improve when they get external love and support. How can we hold it against them when they don’t?”

At first, this show kind of made me realized that I’ve been a bad person….that most of the decisions I’ve made in life are self-serving….I only do things that benefit me and I could not care less about other people but my biggest realization here is that, I acted this way because my unhealed pain and trauma is manifesting itself. I have been hurt way too much that it made me become a bad person and end up with the mantra that life is shitty anyway so why try to be good? And because of that, I felt bad. Now, I try my best to do good things, not because I want to feel good for myself but because it’s the right thing to do. I have come to the realization that just because I was hurt does not mean I have the right to inflict pain on others. I know that morality is not something that can easily be answered since it’s such a complex thing and humans are flawed but as what Michael said (he has a lot of great lines from the show, I can’t help but to keep on quoting him) “What matters isn’t if people are good or bad. What matters is, if they’re trying to be better today than they were yesterday. You asked me where my hope comes from? That’s my answer.” Please, please, please watch The Good Place! I guess it’s one of the best, if not the best, sitcoms ever.

Mystic Pop-up Bar

Major lesson: Grudges are the heaviest to carry/ the art of letting go

One word to describe this k-drama? HEARTWARMING. With only 12 episodes, this k-drama was able to provide me comfort and healing. I did not actually expect much from this as I only watched it because of Yook Sungjae but what I failed to realize is that this kdrama’s approach to storytelling will be heartwarming. The plot is pretty simple for a fantasy drama: a woman, Weol-ju, runs a pop-up bar in order to fulfill her mission of settling the grudges of 100,000 people but as the years went by, it became difficult for her to have people to open up. When people fail to open up about the grudges they are holding, then it will be difficult for her to help them in solving their problems. And since it is taking her way too long to finish her mission, she was given an ultimatum of having to finish her mission within a month – good thing is she found two people to help her with the case: the afterlife police agent Gwi and the human with special ability of making people open up to him just by having a slight physical contact with them, Kang Bae. I love the way these three main characters complemented each other and I sometimes wish that I was given the chance to be a customer at the Mystic Pop-up Bar not just to have them help me solve my grudges but because sometimes, all we need is people who will listen to us.

As mentioned, Weol-ju’s mission is to help people settle the grudges they are carrying and she makes it happen by having people go inside her pop-up bar, let them tell their stories to her and then she will eventually offer them a special drink (which she disguises as an alcohol) that will make them fall asleep so she can enter the dream world and do her work in settling the grudge. While watching this drama, I can’t help but wonder: why do people drink when they have problems? For someone who never drinks and is not interested in drinking, I’ve always been curious of it. They said that alcohol tastes bitter, so I don’t understand why it seems to be helping people in dealing with their problems? Some say that by drinking, it helps them escape their reality for a while. I did some research about this topic and according to Origins Recovery, alcohol contains anxiolytic properties which means that it helps in inhibiting stress or anxiety. As for the bitterness, I heard from someone that as time passes by, the bitterness become sweet unlike life itself in which as time passes by, it becomes more overwhelming. I guess drinking really helps people to take a pause from the absurdity of life despite its bitterness as well as the headache that follows after drinking. Moreover, who am I to judge people who rely on drinking when their life becomes a mess when I also have my own ways, sometimes self-destructive, of finding an escape from this horrible world that we live in? After all, when life gets too tough, we all just want an escape – even though it’s temporary.

With every episode, Weol-ju and her squad helped people settle their grudges and each time they do, it makes me feel emotional. This show makes me realized that all of us are carrying grudges we don’t talk about and when we do not have the avenue to vent it out, then it eats us up alive. All of us are no stranger to struggles, but it is important to be strong and courageous. We can choose to struggle alone but asking for help does not mean you are weak.

Let me end this blogpost by putting my favorite line from Weol-ju: “No matter what’s making you suffer right now, things will settle and pass eventually. Hang in there until then, and you’ll find yourself stronger”

x,

TinaMae

#personal #tinamae tales #kdrama #k-drama #k drama #netflix #angel last mission love #l infinite #kim myung soo #mystic pop up bar #sungjae #the good place #kristen bell

[like-a-bag-of-potatoes]

Playing With Fire - Moving On

A/N: So this is my first crack at Chicago fire fanfiction, so don't judge too hard, alright? This will unfold from the beginning of season three, so if you haven't watched it yet, but plan to; SPOILER ALERT! I tried to follow along with the storyline of the show, but some things have been changed. Shout out to my superawesome beta @thorne93​, you rock! 

Fandom: Chicago Fire

Pairing: Kelly Severide x Beth (OFC) 

Warnings: Language probably. 

Wordcount: 2065

MASTERLIST

The world was spinning when Beth woke up the next morning, so she decided it wasn't even worth it to open her eyes. That's until she remembered how the night had ended, and her eyes flew open. 

“Oh thank god,” she muttered when she learned she was alone in her bed. For a while she just lay there in silence, listening for any sounds in her apartment, when she was certain that she was alone she decided to get up. Groaning, she rolled out of bed and threw a blanket around her shoulders before she padded to the kitchen in need of water, Advil, and bacon.

She furrowed her brows at the little note on her table, her tired and puffy eyes having a hard time concentrating on the words. 

 Thanks for a fun night! Sorry to sneak out before dawn, but duty calls. I realized that I didn't get your number, so I'm gonna leave you with mine just in case you want a re-run. No pressure. 

- Jay   

Beth groaned as she balled up the paper. “Nice jobb, dumbass,” she scolded herself.

Thanks to the copious amount of alcohol she had consumed last night, her nerves were fried, so when there was a knock on the door, she jumped. For a second she just stared at the door, very annoyed with the person on the other side of it. 

“Good morning, player,” Gabby greeted in a chipper tone, smiling from ear to ear. “You look like shit,” she added as she handed Beth a cup of coffee she had brought for her. 

“I look better than I feel then,” Beth mumbled as she took the styrofoam cup from her friend. She didn't even invite her in, just turned around and started making her way back to the kitchen. 

“You alone?” Gabby asked, tentatively looking around the small apartment. 

“Why?” Beth asked, snapping her head around so fast she thought she might throw up. Damn hangover. 

“You know Jay works with my brother right?” she deadpanned. “Plus, Otis and Hermann were still at the bar when you two left. So was Kelly - my roommate,” she summarized.

“Gossip spreads faster through a firehouse than it does through my family. I'm impressed,” Beth said with annoyance in her voice. 

“Tell me about it,” Gabby agreed. “Look… I had Matt drive me downtown to get your car-” she handed Beth the keys - “He's outside and we really have to get to work. I just wanted to get you your keys and check in.” 

“Thanks,” Beth said softly. “I'm good. A little embarrassed, and a lot hungover, but I'll live.” 

“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” Gabby assured. “You are both consenting adults, nothing wrong with having a little fun.” 

“I know. Just thinking that getting over someone by getting under someone else might not be the best plan of action,” Beth said with a dry chuckle. 

“Fair point,” Gabby agreed. “Look, can we catch up later?” She was clearly stressed and in a rush to get to work, so the two said their goodbyes and then she was out the door. 

Beth threw back some Advil, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and then went straight back to bed, hoping she would be able to sleep away the hangover before she had to be at work that afternoon. At least she knew that everyone at 51 would be working that night so she wouldn't have to run into any of them. And by any of them, she meant one in particular. 

***

A couple of days went by without Beth really socializing with anyone. She hid in her apartment as much as she could, still sort of embarrassed by the events of the other night. 

That night there was quite the crowd at Molly’s, so Beth was more than a little relieved when Gabby showed up to help out. It was crazy busy, but it didn't take long before Beth realized that something was up with her friend. Behind Gabby’s beautiful smile, there was a hint of sadness and at the first opportunity, Beth dragged her friend to the end of the bar so they could talk privately.

The past two days had been crazy. Mills and Brett, the two EMTs, had been kidnapped, but ultimately found in one piece. Chief Boden and his wife, Donna, had their baby, but little Baby Boden had some complications and was still being treated at the hospital. Kelly had broken things off with his wife and sent her back to Florida. It was a lot of information to get all at once, but they didn't have time to go into too much detail. 

“And today, this gorgeous blonde comes trotting into the station on ten inch heels, looking for Matt. I ask her what it was about and then she hands me his phone and announces that he had left it at her place when he left that morning,” Gabby explained, finishing up the tale of crazy that had been going on. 

“What?!” Beth exclaimed. “He cheated on you?” 

“No. Turns out it was Severide’s bimbo and Matt had just crashed on the couch,” she said. “I'm just.. I think I'm just starting to realize that we’re not gonna make it through this,” she concluded with a heavy sigh. 

“What are you going to do?” Beth asked, trying not to put too much thought into the whole Kelly part of the story. 

Gabby just shrugged, and before she could say anything else, Jay walked up and interrupted them. “I'm gonna go- uhm - be somewhere else,” Gabby said awkwardly before hurrying away. 

Beth had dreaded this moment since the other night. She wasn't really a one night stand kind of girl, so this situation was a little unfamiliar to her. “Hey,” she said a little awkwardly. Jay’s smile was very charming as he greeted her back. “Gabby just filled me in on what's been going on. Seems like you’ve had a few busy days,” she noted. 

The intelligence squad that Jay worked for had been the ones that helped find Brett and Mills. “Yeah,” he nodded. “But we got them back in one piece, and the bad guys are behind bars, which is all that matters.” 

“Good job, Detective,” she complimented. “Can I get you a drink?” 

“I'm actually on call,” he said simply. “I just came by to say hey. Maybe see if you have any plans tomorrow?” 

Fuck. “Look-” Beth started, not really knowing what to say. “I had a really great time the other night-” 

Jay cut her off. “But you’re not really looking for anything right now,” he finished without any accusation in his voice, still with that charming smile on his face. 

“It's just that I'm trying to get over someone and I don't think using you as a rebound is fair on either one of us,” she tried to explain. Jay was smart, kind, and funny, and under different circumstances she would be all over this. However, right now wasn't the time for them. 

“Lieutenant Severide?” he asked. Beth didn't answer him, but he definitely knew. “Alright then. We still good?” 

“I hope so,” Beth said. 

He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss to her cheek before saying goodbye and heading back to work. 

***

The evening went by in a hurry and before they knew it, Gabby was shooing the last of the customers out the door, locking it behind them while Beth grabbed them each a beer so they could finish the talk they started on earlier. 

“I have to get out of Matt's house,” she suddenly said. “Two months ago, if that girl had shown up at the firehouse like she did today, my first thought would have been that there's a reasonable explanation here. Now, though, my first instinct was that he had cheated on me and I - I don't know. I'm just thinking that it's already over between us.” 

Beth didn't really know what to say, but she had seen how they had struggled for the past couple of months. “If you need a place to crash, my door is always open. And my couch is surprisingly comfortable,” she offered. 

“Thank you,” Gabby said with a half hearted smile. “Tonight?” 

“Absolutely,” Beth said, pulling her friend into a hug. “And for the record, I think that you and Matt will figure this all out. Maybe not right away, but I do believe in the two of you.” 

“You’re a good friend, Beth.” 

Both of them were more than ready to call it a night and go back to Beth’s for some much needed rest, but it turned out that the evening wasn't quite over for Beth yet. 

When they stepped out of Molly’s the first thing they saw was Kelly, leaning against his blue Mustang, waiting for her. 

“You have a minute?” he asked, looking at Beth as he pushed himself off of the car and taking a few steps closer to them. 

Beth fished her keys out of her pocket and handed them to Gabby. “I'll be right there,” she assured. 

“You sure?” Gabby questioned, looking between Beth and Kelly, but when Beth nodded her head, she turned on her heel and walked away. 

“What's that about?” Kelly asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. 

“Not my place to say,” she stated simply. “Why are you here?” It was a chilly night and Beth tugged her jacket tighter around her body to shield her from the cold wind. 

“I just wanted to apologize for the other night. It wasn't my place to say anything.” 

“Apology accepted. That all?” she asked coldly. 

Kelly didn't say anything, his mind busy searching for words he couldn't find. 

“Alright then. Good talk,” she said sarcastically as she took a few steps backwards before starting to turn away. 

“No. Wait,” he said, making her stop in her tracs. “You said that you hoped we could find a way to be friends down the line… Guess I just needed to know that I didn't fuck that up.” 

“You didn't,” she assured. “But we’re not there yet. At least I'm not.” 

“Anything I can do to help you get there?” he wondered, taking a few steps closer to her. He desperately missed her. Her smile. Her laugh. Her touch. He knew that he had ruined any chance of a relationship between them, but he couldn't stand the thought of losing her completely. 

“Space and time, just like I asked for. I told you that as long as you’re seeking answers at the bottom of a bottle-” 

“I promise you that I'm done with that,” he vowed, cutting her off. 

“So you weren't out with Matt - two days after your wife left- getting drunk and crawling into someone else's bed?” She wasn't angry at him, but the accusation and jealousy in her voice was clear as day. 

“That's different,” he defended. 

“I shouldn't have brought that up,” she said quietly. It had nothing to do with them really, and it wasn't like she hadn't done the same thing with Jay. 

“That's okay,” he assured. 

“Look,” she said with a deep sigh. “Honestly, I'm still trying to wrap my head around everything that happened between us, and what happened after.” 

“What are you saying?” 

“That I care about you,” she admitted, looking up into his eyes. “Probably more than I should. And I have no idea where to go from here.” 

Hope rose in him at her words, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Beth, I'm not the kind of guy that shows up in the middle of the night to make amends. I care about you too, a lot.” It was so great to finally get that off his chest, to finally admit to her how he felt. 

“Yeah. You showed me just how much when you went to Vegas and married the first girl you met,” she accused. 

Now he was confused again. “I made a mistake, Beth,” he pleaded. 

“I can't do this,” she said, slowly taking a few steps backwards. “I hope we can be friends one day, Kelly. I really do. But I can't do this dance with you right now.” She shook her head as she turned around and started on the short walk home, not stopping or looking back as he called out her name. 

Tags: @campingmonkey @deansgirl215 @thevelvetseries @graniairish 

#Kelly Severide #kelly severide fanfiction #kelly severide fanfic #kelly severide x reader #kelly severide series #Chicago Fire #chicago fire fanfic #chicago fire fanfiction

[lovemeafterhrs]

boys (that i dated in highschool) | k. akaashi

chapter 3: things that i miss

fun fact: mc is resident heartbreaker, and kuroo has a running conspiracy that she kills all of her boyfriends as inspiration when writing her novels. bokuto is quick to point out that all of her exes are still living, but his point stands nonetheless.

~~~~

something about bokuto’s house parties had never quite sat right with her, especially after witnessing many years of chaos that his mother had to endure every time they left him alone for the weekend.

being bokuto koutarou’s next door neighbor all her life had prepared her for the moment she walked inside the designated apartment and realized the bright lights and balloons were definitely his doing.

it was a welcome surprise to hear the loud, cheerful remarks of her ex-captain as he moved to pull her into a tight, slightly suffocating hug.

“dude, i didn’t realize you still lived in tokyo! your mom still sends me cookies.” the gleeful smile that graced over his features sent a giggle down her throat that she effectively pushed down as she grinned at him.

“the lemon cookies? she doesn’t even bring me those anymore!” she stated with a pout, and before bokuto could reply, he was interrupted by the introduction of a very loud, very drunk kuroo tetsurou.

“YOU ACTUALLY CAME!!” he’d yelled much too loud for comfort, and she shushed him lightly as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

“i wanted to see kenma actually, do you know where he is?” she teased, and he hit her arm playfully as he chose to hand her a glass instead. “kuroo.. i don’t think i want to know what’s in this.”

“you can see kenma if you drink with me!” he stated triumphantly, and she was whisked away as soon as she’d agreed.

the kitchen is surprisingly calm, and the music across the hall vibrated against the tile floor.

“kuroo, i’m not taking shots with you.”

“you have to! it’s your first college party!” he pouted, visibly wobbling as he poured two shots of cheap vodka.

to be honest, it tasted more like rubbing alcohol than anything. “who said this was my first college party?” his jaw slacked open at the comment, and pushed another shot in her direction.

“keep talking, dollface. i was going easy on you, but there’s worse shit in the fridge.” opening the fridge, she was brought face to face with a comically large bottle of kool aid flavored titos, a staple of bokuto’s house parties that was mutually hated by all.

“never again. i will never ever ever-“

spoiler alert, she did. all it had taken was one glimpse of dark hair from the corner of her eye to have her downing every shot kuroo handed out, and bokuto quickly joined the party.

all of a sudden, the last one was one drink too many as she stumbled her way into the nearest bathroom.

what she didn’t expect to be greeted by was an equally drunk akaashi sprawled out in the bathtub. when he noticed her, he immediately shot up and tried to gather his usually stoic demeanor.

to be completely truthful, he was a mess. after a failed drinking game with bokuto, he’d brought up the topic he’d been dreading.

of course that topic would find herself in the bathroom he’d been wallowing in.

instead of stating the obvious, she pushed lightly against his knees in an effort to get him to scoot over. when he did, she sunk down against the white marble of the bathtub next to him.

the first few minutes were surrounded in silence, and the music from outside echoed against the walls as she pulled a cigarette out of her pocket.

they sat there, passing it back and forth as they let the nicotine calm the nerves that had been inflamed by the tequila that had been provided prior.

“do you miss how it used to be?” he’d asked suddenly, and he cursed himself internally as he noticed the sadness that painted over her features at his statement.

“sometimes. do you miss it?”

“i miss how effortless everything was. it all just made sense, until suddenly it didn’t.” the atmosphere in the bathroom had shifted entirely, and tension began to build as she flicked the cigarette butt out the window.

“i don’t think anything has really made sense since.” she laughed, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes as she shifted her focus to the tiled floor.

“bokuto hasn’t stopped asking about you for years, and i don’t know how to break it to him that it won’t happen no matter how much he tries.” a part of him died as soon as the words left his mouth, and she tried her best to choke down the tears that were starting to form under her now closed eyelids.

“my sister doesn’t believe it either. i guess a year did more damage than we thought it would.”

“you don’t regret it, do you?” akaashi had tried his best to keep his voice consistent in an attempt to further disguise the conflicting feelings that bubbled against his esophagus.

“i don’t regret a lot of things, keiji. i learned a lot from our time together, i just wish we could’ve salvaged our friendship afterwards.” she shrugged, and he nearly crumbled as he remembered the reason he avoided her like the plague.

maybe it was jealousy, maybe it was fear. but he knew it was something he didn’t want to deal with anymore.

“it’s not too late, right?” he asked hopefully, before quickly backing down. “i mean.. if you don’t want to-“

“akaashi, it’s never too late. you still mean a lot to me and i-“ she was interrupted by an obnoxious ringtone, and akaashi sighed as he answered bokuto’s call. he mouthed a quick ‘i’m sorry’ as he tried to calm bokuto down while scrambling out of the bathtub.

all too quickly, the bathroom was once again swallowed by the silence from before. getting up from the tub, she came to face the mirror as her hands clung to the marble countertop.

“he really loved you.. and now what do you have?” she questioned the tearful soul in the mirror, grasping onto the marble counter as emotions began to overwhelm her senses.

this was not how that night was supposed to go.

instead of wallowing in the bathroom, she took the time to gather herself as the reflection in the mirror stared her down.

“it’s in the past. let it stay in the past.” she stated, dragging her fingers through her dark hair. “you’re going to go out there and forget about akaashi keiji. you’re here for you, not for him.”

with that, she was off. back into the frenzy of bodies and empty beer bottles she went, determined to find kuroo and possibly kill him (after making him get a beer.)

instead, she ended up tripping on the shoes of a certain grey haired volleyball player, and threatened to break his kneecaps for doing so.

or well, that’s what would’ve happened if she didn’t think he was the hottest thing she’d ever seen.

“oh shit,” he said, reaching down to help her up. “sorry, i didn’t see you coming. you kinda looked like you were on a mission or something.”

“oh, i kinda was.” she laughed, and he smiled down at her as soon as she was back on her feet. “i have a certain rooster head to kill, but i can always save some time for you.”

“is that so?”

kuroo tetsurou officially had a new score to keep, and his ‘true crime’ conspiracies were piling with new evidence.

COLLEGE PARTY VICTIM #1

masterlist:

taglist: @bby-bokuto @momoinot @crushingonsuga @k4tiepie @levisackerwoman @ashleefo @yammmers @heyitzwolf @pharvhs @disaster-rose @just-snog-already @laughingismorefun @kac-chowsballs

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi smau #akaashi keiji #suna smau

[komahinasecretexchange]

Title: Honestly

Author: @cellophanerose

For: @more-ofyou-tolove

Pairings/Characters: KomaHina

Rating/Warnings: Rated G. takes place during pre-trial chapter 5 in sdr2, so it contains spoilers, mentions of self-harm/suicide/violence, and angst.  Based only on the game’s canon and differs from the anime on an important point involving Kamukura.

Prompt: What if Hajime found out he was Kamukura before Chapter 6?

Author’s notes: Thanks for the great prompt!! I hope you enjoy it! 

When Hinata opened his eyes, he began to fall.  The plunging sensation turned his stomach inside out, and he strained his eyes trying to make out anything in the total darkness.  He saw nothing, but for some reason, it didn’t make him panic.  In fact, he had trouble feeling anything at all.

All at once, he was in a familiar scene: sitting at a desk surrounded by faceless - pointless - students.  Though their figures weren’t defined, the pressure he felt from them was overwhelming as he started to sweat.  He had to get away, he had to get away, but how?  Hinata was aware of his answer now, and could no longer look away.

His desire to be talented, his all-consuming need to be anything other than himself, led him to the reserve course.  Here, it was supposed to be better - at least, that was the lie he had been fed.  But even as the scene shifted around him and the backgrounds changed, the heavy feeling wasn’t released.  In fact, it seemed to be even worse here, as if the pressure building inside of him was working with its outside equivalent to tear him to shreds.  It was too much, far too much, as a distant yet familiar pain coursed through his head.  For some reason, Hinata knew this is where it should have ended.

But it did not.

Instead, the scene stretched on and on until he was up and running.   He knew, vaguely, that this was a memory and that he was breaking some sort of script, that maybe he was going too far, but the dream wouldn’t end and the pain became too much for him to bear.  The hallway he ran through kept extending, as if offering him more and more chances to turn back.

He did not.

The scene abruptly shifted and at some point, he had stopped running.  Everything was distorted as if someone applied a filter directly to his eyes.  Hinata’s limbs moved on their own, taking up a casual pace.  A terrifying sense of dread filled him, which was at war with the overwhelming feeling of calmness felt by his body.  He caught a glimpse of something out of the window - a curtain of sharp black, but he didn’t have time to contemplate that as his body stopped at a door and reached out to open it.

I have to stop, right now! Please!

His body paid no heed to his mind as he passed through the threshold.  A group of students seated around a table looked up at him as he entered, confusion visible on their features.

Hinata made one final bid to stop whatever this was and threw everything he had into stopping his own body, but it was to no avail.

“Who-” before the student had even started her question, Hinata was moving with lethal certainty and terrifying speed as he ripped though her.  Blood splattered on his clothes as the other students cried out and jumped from their seats.  There was no point though - for whatever reason, Hinata was inhumanly fast and strong as he continued to tear through the other students.  As he took the last student’s life, he felt nothing.  He walked over to the room’s window and only then did Hinata see himself: a grim figure with long black hair and eyes as red as the blood he spilled on his clothes.  A stranger who shared his face.  A brief and light feeling of disappointment flashed through him until he was once again left with nothing.

Hinata shot up from his bed and immediately ran into the bathroom.   What little food he had eaten yesterday threatened to come back up as he hunched and cried over the toilet.  Even when the retching stopped, his whole frame continued shaking with the force of his sobs.

There was no way that was real - logically, it was impossible…so why was guilt pouring out of every nerve of Hinata’s body? Guilt and regret were overflowing, but no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t make sense of it.

After what had to be at least a half an hour, Hinata stood up on unsteady legs to wash the sweat and tears off of his face.  Every bone in his body ached and the shaking still hadn’t stopped as he turned the faucet on as cold as possible, collecting the water in his hands and throwing it in his face.  He didn’t want to face himself, but he forced himself to look in the mirror to chase away the doubts in his mind.  All the mirror reflected was a drained and sick-looking Hinata, with his normal green eyes and short brown hair.  Hinata felt something akin to relief and made his way back to bed.

He sat on the edge of the bed, but couldn’t bring himself to lie down.  Despite his body being exhausted, his head was buzzing with activity.  He curled in on himself, clawing at his biceps and dragging his nails across the length of his arms.  The sting felt good, but it wasn’t enough.  He gripped harder and he tried to chase away the dream by digging his nails into his skin as deep as he could.  He had stopped crying, at least.

…Was he capable of such atrocities?  Hinata didn’t want to think so, but doubt needled his mind. That sort of directionless slaughter he saw could only be done by a monster, and now Hinata wasn’t so sure he wasn’t one.

A lot had happened earlier that day, he reasoned to himself.  He had woken up on the brink of starvation and to another dead friend, learned from Komaeda that he really was just a talentless nobody, and then watched yet another classmate be executed after working through the class trial.

This was Komaeda’s fault, in the end.  Komaeda had gone and unlocked those unpleasant memories of being a reserve course student.  It was easy to be mad at Komaeda, to shift all blame onto him, and Komaeda seemed eager to be contrarian and rude to everyone since learning Hinata’s true nature.  But…if the earlier memories were true, what did that mean for his dream?  What was that dark visage he had seen in the windows of the school?  He was no murderer, or at least he thought.

Wasn’t Komaeda saying something to that extent?  Right before the class trial, Komaeda went off on a seemingly unrelated tangent about some book.

“The story is told from the point-of-view of a high school girl involved in a serial killer mystery…But when you get to the end…Surprise, surprise!  The girl was actually the killer!”

“The protagonist is just a projection of the reader…And this projection turns out to be the killer… Which means…”

“‘The killer you were looking for the whole time was inside of you all along,’ he said,”  Hinata repeated Komeada’s earlier words to himself, shaken by the implications he only now picked up.  He hastily jumped up as a revelation struck him.

“Komaeda said the Hope’s Peak file only contained information about me, and how I was from the Reserve Department, but…what if there was more to it than that?”  From the start, Hinata knew Komaeda wasn’t divulging everything he had learned from clearing the Final Dead Room, but he was too caught up in learning he was a reserve student to question it further.  Now, though…

“I - I need to know…!” Hinata was full of manic energy, as he rushed out the front door, forgoing even putting on his shoes, to go and confront Komaeda.  His heart was pounding wildly in his chest as it became all too clear to him that Komaeda had found something in those files that caused such a shift in his demeanor, and the odds that it pertained to what Hinata had just dreamed were worryingly high.  He didn’t bother to quiet his footfalls - if any of the remaining few classmates heard him, then so be it.  It must have been past 2:00 AM, but Hinata could not bring himself to care as he slammed his fist against Komaeda’s cabin door.  The lights inside the cabin flickered on and he heard Komaeda approaching the door.  There was no turning back now.

The look of disdain was clear on Komaeda’s face when he opened the door, but he appeared awake and alert.

“Really, Hinata-kun, I knew that you lacked any talent, but your added lack of consideration or timing is appalling,” Komaeda sneered, as his eyes raked over Hinata.  “…Are you even aware your arms are bleeding?”  No, in fact, Hinata had completely disregarded anything else besides his current goal, bodily injuries and humiliation included.

“That’s not important,” Hinata urged, “Let me in.”  Komaeda did not look impressed. “Hm, I would say it is important, seeing as how you’re getting blood on everything.”  Those innocuous words hit Hinata with another wave of nausea as he knelt down and held his head in his hands.  Komaeda’s eyes widened and he stood up straight from his casual leaning on the doorframe as he watched Hinata crumble in front of him and take loud, gulping breaths.  Komaeda knew the signs of a panic attack when he saw them, and through the cocktail of feelings he was bottling up at the moment, a bizarre urge to help welled up.

“Get in here,” Komaeda said, as he kneeled down to hoist Hinata back on his feet, keeping in consideration his injured arms.  After placing Hinata unceremoniously on his bed, he grabbed a cup of water and forced it in Hinata’s direction.  It seemed to take a few seconds for Hinata to process this, but after Komaeda coaxed Hinata’s hands out of his hair, Hinata grabbed hold of the cup and began drinking.  No words were exchanged as Komaeda flitted across his room, searching for something to clean and cover Hinata’s arms with.

Hinata kept his eyes trained on Komaeda while he finished his water and set the cup aside, unsure of what to make of the current situation. He had calmed down, somewhat, and was at a loss for how to now approach asking Komaeda for the file.  In his march over here, he imagined demanding the file from Komaeda, letting his anger carry him through his thought-up scenario.  But now, even after some snide remarks, Komaeda was running a wet towel over his arms, wiping off the blood and revealing the angry red marks that were easily identifiable.  

Komaeda kept his touch to a minimum and his mouth shut tight as he grabbed some bandages and began wrapping up Hinata’s arms.  The wounds were clearly self-inflicted…of course learning you have no talent would be devastating, but had it really driven Hinata to panic and hurt himself? Or…

When Komaeda finished his bandaging, Hinata avoided eye contact when he mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’, which Komaeda responded to with a quick nod.  Unsaid things hung heavily between the two of them.  The energy that carried Hinata over here was long gone, but his desire hadn’t changed.  Finally, he spoke up.

“I need to see my student profile, Komaeda.”  ‘Ah, so it is about being a reserve,’ Komaeda thought bitterly.

“Do you truly distrust me that much, Hinata-kun?  Or do you need to see it in black and white to face the truth?  Like I said, that’s all there was to it.  Just the fact that you are talentless and desperate to be accepted by Hope’s Peak..” Komaeda wanted to be resentful, but he couldn’t muster up much anger in the face of Hinata looking so small.

“There’s more, isn’t there?!”  There wasn’t any desperation in Hinata’s voice like Komaeda had expected.  All he heard was agony.   Komaeda watched as angry tears welled up in Hinata’s eyes, threatening to overflow, causing Komaeda’s own eyes to prickle.  “What did I do…?” Hinata whispered, most likely to himself.  There was something happening behind the scenes that Komaeda couldn’t see, and it scared him.

“Why are you here, Hinata-kun?”  They both knew that Komaeda was asking a different question, but neither of them acknowledged it.   Hinata didn’t answer him, choosing instead to stare blankly ahead.  Just when Komaeda was ready to call out to him, he spoke up.

“You know that book you were talking about?”  Hinata’s voice was surprisingly steady, as if he wasn’t fully there at the moment.  Both the words and the tone caught Komaeda off-guard.  “The one about the serial killer.”  As if Hinata had to specify.  Komaeda held his breath, knowing that whatever happened next was out of his control - he had simply poured gasoline near a fire ready to ignite.  “Were the girl and the killer really the same person?  Did she truly just…forget?”

Hinata’s cold stare landed squarely on Komaeda, eyes flickering with something intangible.  It caused a shiver to run down his spine.  “Or is it more accurate to say the girl we knew never existed?”  Komaeda was pinned in place just from Hinata’s deadly glare - not that he would go anywhere, but the lack of control frightened him.  He knew he had to choose his words carefully.

Unfortunately, it was easier said than done.

“Does it matter, in the end?  Memories or not, a killer is a killer, right, Hinata-kun?”  They were all Ultimate Despair - it didn’t matter how they got there, or that they didn’t remember it.  Whatever Hinata had remembered, or thought he remembered, changed nothing.  It’s unforgivable.  Unforgivable, especially for you, who was supposed to be the Ultimate Hope..!

“Of course it matters!” Hinata rose to his feet in anger.  “How am I supposed to know who I am if it doesn’t? The person I see…he isn’t me. Am I…Am I…?”  Hinata gasped and held his throbbing head as angry tears started cascading down his face.

Did Hinata know?  What Hope’s Peak had done to him?

“His name - my name - was…”  The embers licked at both of their feet.  All that was left was to burn.

“Izuru Kamukura.”

With those two words, the flames erupted to life around them.   Komaeda’s heart beat hard against his chest, as if trying to escape the inferno.  He held his breath, uncertain if there was any air left in the room.

“But I’m not him…! Right? Komaeda?!  Am I the lie, or is he?!”  With dizzying speed, Hinata was in front of him, hands latched onto Komaeda’s arms.  “Would I even want to exist if that…that thing was really me?”  Desperate for an anchor, he leaned his body against Komaeda until Komaeda was forced to put his arms around his waist so they wouldn’t fall.

But if we could fall together, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

“So you have to tell me,” Hinata’s voice rumbled against Komaeda’s shoulder.  The entire situation was completely overwhelming, both mentally and physically.  Komaeda had never been this close to anyone.   He felt needed - something he couldn’t remember happening before, and that heady sensation may be why the tight grip on his façade had loosened, even for himself.

He couldn’t bring himself to hate Hinata, no matter how much he tried.  The Hinata he knew didn’t deserve even a fraction of what Komaeda was currently facing alone.  Komaeda was willing to put his life down for the sake of hope, and despised despair with every fraction of his being.  This was a fact.  Komaeda was also in love with Hinata - well-meaning, hapless Hinata who admired hope, was strong in so many ways Komaeda wasn’t, and was loved by everyone.  This was also a fact.   These two conflicting truths warred in his mind constantly since he learned their shared history.  Lashing out at everyone, especially Hinata, felt good, or at least he had originally thought.  Now though, seeing Hinata so hurt that he would go to even Komaeda for resolution, he felt a strong pang of regret.  Would any of this have happened if he didn’t reveal anything about the student files?  Would he still have torn up his own arms?  Even now, Komaeda was hurting Hinata, by not telling him the full truth, by letting Hinata be held by someone who would betray him, who would die.  His next words fell out of his mouth without his permission.

“I’ll tell you what I know about him.  Call it a farewell present, to the you I…” ‘Thought I knew’? ‘Loved’?  It didn’t matter. Komaeda did not let himself fall further than he already had.  Hinata’s face was still buried in Komaeda’s shoulder, but the grip he had on Komaeda’s biceps tightened, signalling that Komaeda had his attention.

“Like I told you, you were just a reserve course student, completely ordinary with no stand-out traits. Maybe it was that complete lack of any semblance of talent that made them choose you - or maybe it was just luck.”  Komaeda poured all of his strength into keeping his voice steady and even, to reveal as little as possible, but even he had to scoff at the phrase ‘just luck’.  “In any case, you were chosen for an experimental procedure which would theoretically implant talent into you.  You would have every talent the school had ever seen, truly someone worthy of being Ultimate Hope.”  Komaeda paused to imagine it, and to steel himself for the next part.

“However, instead of becoming a beacon of hope, Kamukura was just as bad as the others.  Ah, but I’m no better, either…”  Komaeda didn’t feel the need to specify who the others were or what that meant.  He had a feeling Hinata wouldn’t care once he heard what came next.  “The file said there wasn’t a trace of Hajime Hinata left in him.  Whether it was intentional or not I don’t know, but you no longer existed.”  Komaeda heard Hinata’s sharp intake of breath and felt him stiffen.  “And that’s where it ended.”  Komaeda may have been feeling sentimental, but to say anything more than that would put his plans in severe jeopardy.  He couldn’t risk Hinata knowing the whole truth and piecing together Komaeda’s intentions.  None of this mattered in the end, he told himself, even if the thought caused his grip on Hinata to tighten.  They stood in their awkward embrace for a while, before Hinata finally regained some composure and took a step back.  He didn’t even have the energy to feel embarrassed.  Instead, he felt as if a chasm had opened up and was ready to swallow him whole.  After he was able to convince himself that he wasn’t going to disappear, he forced himself to ask Komaeda something he couldn’t possibly know the answer to.

“Then…who am I?”  Hinata let out an empty laugh.  “You said that I stopped existing, but that’s a lie, right? Right now, everything feels too real, and I can’t deny that what I feel is real, too.  Maybe I’m in hell for killing all of those people…maybe that’s how a ghost can mistake himself for a human.  There isn’t a single thing about me that was ever real, is there?”  Hinata’s mind and mouth were both wandering, looking for a truth to latch onto.  “In the end, I must just be a well-made lie.”  And isn’t that depressing?  Being a lie who had forgotten along the way that he was a cheap imitation of something that may have once existed - being something fake, yet still forced to feel this all-real pain.

“You’re wrong.”  Hinata jolted at the fierceness with which Komaeda said those two words.  Some color came back into his sight, and for once, he felt something other than dread pounding in his heart.

“To me, you’ll always be Hajime Hinata.  You exist as you are now, whether you like it or not.  Maybe to anyone else you aren’t real, but you are to me.”  Hinata looked at him owlishly, and Komaeda’s blood immediately drained from his face.  That was too much. “ A-A talentless reserve like yourself isn’t allowed to decide if he’s real or not.  Quit acting so presumptuous, forcing your worldview onto everyone else.”  He sounded like he was trying to convince himself, as well.  This is ridiculous. Komaeda was now looking everywhere but Hinata, willing his heart to quit beating so fast.  It almost worked, too, until he heard a muffled sob coming from Hinata.

His eyes locked back onto him, who was covering his mouth with one hand while using his other to blindly feel behind him for the bed and, without fanfare, crashed into it. His hand fell from his mouth, releasing with it the sound of unhinged laughter.  His face was contorted into a hysterical grin and tears were once again gathering in his eyes.  Komaeda had no idea how to deal with this, so he didn’t.  He wasn’t sure his voice would reach Hinata like this, anyways.

“Of course you would say something like that,” Hinata said breathlessly as the laughter died down.  Hinata looked at Komaeda - truly looked at him for perhaps the first time, without being blinded by admiration or hurt or betrayal, and felt a slurry of emotions, but above all, a connection.  A desire to get closer.  A hope that, maybe someday, when everything was over…

Things clicked into place for Hinata while on the other hand Komaeda was absolutely baffled.  He gets the distinct feeling that he’d been caught somehow, though.  He certainly felt transparent - so transparent, in fact, that unless he stopped this now, Hinata would see through to his desires and try to stop him.  What’s worse is that Komaeda was sure Hinata wouldn’t have to try all that hard to convince him to want to live, and that thought was frightening.  His mind flashed back to hospitals and diagnoses that served as death sentences.  He cannot - will not - cling desperately to a life that will soon be over when he could at least use his death in a meaningful way.

While Komaeda stewed in his own thoughts, Hinata began reaching out to grab his hand when suddenly the gravity of the situation hit him like a brick house.  He just let Komaeda comfort him, and that comfort caused Hinata to see things that weren’t there.  He came to Komaeda to get answers about himself because he knew Komaeda wasn’t telling him the whole truth.  Who’s to say he wasn’t hiding more?   The feeling welling up inside Hinata was far too dangerous, and he snatched his hand back as if he’d been burned.  He had felt so sure, but the doubts still started creeping in.  Komaeda caught the motion as he stared at Hinata, hurt and relief warring in his mind.  Hinata stood up suddenly, eyes glued to the floor.  He needed to get out, he had too much on his mind, he can’t deal with this-

“I’m sorry, I can’t…”

“…Me neither.”

What appeared to be an agreement masked the multiple layers of misunderstanding and fear, but they were both stubborn and scared, so they let it fall.  Hinata took a shuddering breath and walked to the door.  It hurt too much to face Komaeda as he said, “Thanks for everything.”  He heard Komaeda hum in response, but couldn’t see the despair swirling in his eyes.

“Goodbye, Hinata-kun.”  And, without another word, the night ended.

Days later, when Hinata is crouched beside Komaeda’s corpse, he thinks, ‘Ah, so this really is hell.’

“Goodbye, Komaeda.”

#komahina #fanfiction #komahina secret exchange

[aband0ned-s0uls]

A like V - Part 1

-SPOILERS FOR ENDING- 

This is my first time writing a fic, and I’m so excited/nervous to share it with you guys! V gets a ‘lil birthday surprise. 

Also please excuse the dreadful formatting, I’m not a Tumblr pro. 

---------

V swirled the dregs of her drink around her glass as she leaned half against the bar of the Red Dirt, her head resting on her hand, letting the vibrations from the music flow through the cool metal of the worktop and into her body as she waited for the bartender to pour her next one.

After spending months cooped up in her apartment, watching shitty movies, eating cold burritos and recovering from having her own engram re-write the chip, V had been more than surprised when Kerry had called her on the holo and told her – not asked – that he had organised a birthday bash at the Red Dirt for her and her attendance was required. I mean sure, she'd had visitors, and Kerry had been a lifeline in enabling her to get drunk, release her built up frustration by smashing the shit out of everything in true Eurodyne style and reminisce about Johnny, but she never thought in a million years that Kerry Eurodyne would be organising a birthday party for her.

What might have been weirder was the fact that he had also invited her closest friends. Maybe she just wasn't used to people doing things out of the kindness of their hearts, but it all felt a little surreal.

She was lost in her thoughts as she studied the soft red and purple glow illuminating the edges of her glass, musing on how it reminded her of many an exhausted night of stumbling into her apartment, heading straight for her bed after a job and falling asleep to the sounds of Night City. The soft glow of the neon street lights from her window dancing underneath her eyelids as she drifted off. Of many a night listening to Johnny chastise her for falling asleep fully clothed, dinner neglected, asking her for at least one fuckin' cigarette before she passed out. She would launch a pillow at him and tell him to shut the fuck up, he would chuckle and call her a cunt as it sailed through his engram and hit the wall with a soft thud, and she would drift off with a small smile on her face.

Johnny. The thought of him, his absence, she felt it like a punch in the gut. Her fingers tightened around her glass. She'd made it out of Mikoshi alive, the chip re-written by Alt to contain her own engram. She was whole again, but she didn't feel like it.

The music from the band onstage, the animated voices from the people in the bar, strangers, acquaintances and friends alike washed over and around her, but she still felt so alone, and that made her equals parts sad and angry. She'd never really felt alone before – hell, she'd even enjoyed her alone time, but Johnny not being around was like missing a hole in her fuckin' head.

Why should I miss the ghost of a fuckin' asshole?

But V already knew the answer to that question. He wasn't just any asshole, he was her asshole. Johnny, who would tell her she looked shit warmed up and made sure she ate something when she'd forgotten to all day in the same breath. Johnny, who would cover her back and alert her to enemies she hadn't spotted so she didn't get another bullet lodged in her fuckin' skull, but would let her gladly stay unaware of an object at her feet when she stumbled into her apartment drunk, just so he could laugh as she tripped and face planted the back of her couch.

Johnny who had been given a second shot at life, Johnny who was the most inherently selfish motherfucker she'd ever met had turned around and traded it for hers.  

Johnny, who had brushed her hair behind her ear in cyberspace, and with more emotion in his voice than she'd ever thought possible, had said his only regret in this life was that they'd never get a happy ending.  

She'd relived that memory, over and over again. She'd thought he'd meant as two chooms, riding through Night City, shooting the shit after another relentless job, like her and Jackie. But when she'd looked in his eyes, she knew he'd meant more. They'd both shared thoughts and emotions, and the closer they'd got on their journey to Mikoshi, the more their feelings for each other had become intertwined. Never needing to – or at least willingly – be spoken out loud.

Until the end. The look on his face as she turned around one last time before she crossed the bridge. The thought of more, and the implications of what could have been, was what kept her awake at night.

She was torn away from her melancholy thoughts when the bartender slid her fresh vodka lemonade over to her. V looked up and forced a smile. V's vision blurred slightly, and she told herself it was the four drinks she'd already had, but as she blinked rapidly she knew that wasn't the whole truth. Fuck it, she thought. If this was going to be the tone of the evening, a little extra alcohol could only help. Besides, it was her birthday, and V decided if there was ever an appropriate time to get shit-faced, now was definitely it.

“Two shots of tequila too please, choom.”

“Coming right up, chica.”

The bartender came back quickly with her shots. 

One for Jackie, and one for Johnny. 

V threw them back, one after another. Her eyes watered after the second, and a warm flush enveloped her from her head to her toes. She was buzzed, and the alcohol felt like an emotional safety blanket. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, but at least after 6 drinks it hurt a little less. 

As the bartender took away her empties, V felt a familiar presence close in.

“Those are on me.” 

V turned to see the one person who always managed to lift her spirits, Panam. 

“Happy Birthday, V.”

V smiled, a genuine smile this time, and wrapped an arm around Panam's shoulder. V was relieved that was Panam was here. She was like the sister V had never had, and V held her memories with Pan laying awake, shit-faced and laughing underneath the stars in the Badlands as close to her heart as she did with her memories of Jackie. True friendship was hard to find, and Panam was truly an angel. 

A hot-tempered angel with a love for cold beer and fast cars, but an angel never the less.

“Pan! I didn't think you'd make it, 's good to see you.”

Panam laughed, her brown eyes sparkling with warmth, and V earned herself a nudge in her side from Panam's elbow. V chuckled.

“V, I hope you are joking. It's your birthday, of course I'd be here, you're family.” 

Panam took a swig of the Brosephs she had in hand and gave V a sly smile as she leaned her back against the bar. 

“We managed to finish our... business, right on time.”

V's arched a brow at Panam's choice of words, and was about to question why she looked like the cat who got the cream when she saw, to her utter surprise, Mitch and Kerry walking through the bar towards them. They were talking in serious tones, glancing every now and again at V, but the noise in the bar was too loud for V to hear them.

Now this should be interesting, V thought as she removed her arm from around Panam and reached for her vodka lemonade, taking a sip, her curiosity piqued. Since when the fuck were Mitch and Kerry chooms?

Both of the men broke out into shit-eating grins when they locked eyes on V. Kerry sauntered right over to V, clapping her on the shoulder.

“V! Kid, glad you made it.”

 He beamed at her, and shouted to the barman for another round of drinks. Him and Panam shared a knowing look as V readjusted her position, leaning so that her back was against the bar so that she could look at both of them.

“So, now that you're here, I have a preem birthday surprise for you, V. It's gonna blow your fucking socks off, I'm tellin' ya.” 

Kerry settled beside her, taking a drink from the freshly poured round on the bar. He winked before downing it in one go, as her face turned to look of confusion.

V looked between all three of them, taking another sip of her drink.

 “I'm guessin' all of you were involved in this surprise then, huh?”

Panam and Mitch smiled brightly, Mitch chuckling through a freshly lit cigarette. Before they could answer, Kerry banged down his now empty glass onto the bar, and clapped his hands together, looking at the stage. V followed his gaze and noticed that the music had stopped, and a group of stage hands were moving equipment around. Her eyes went wide as she noticed Nancy setting up her keyboard on the stage, followed shortly by Denny.

“Ker, what the fuck...” She looked at him. “You guys are playin' me a birthday gig?”

Ker laughed, clapping her on the shoulder again as he started walking backwards away into the crowd, heading towards backstage.

“You'll see V, like I said, it's gonna be FUCKIN' preem!”

With another wink and a finger pointed at her, he was gone.

V shook her head, smiling, feeling flattered and happy. She guessed she'd had a bigger impact on the people in her life than she previously thought. Hearing some of Samurai's music live on her birthday? It was going to be bittersweet. 

Still, she didn't understand Mitch's and Panam's involvement in this... V fidgeted with her leather skirt and twisted a strand of her long dark hair pensively whilst she waited for the show to start.

----------------------------- 

Kerry practically skipped backstage, slamming the doors wide open.

“Everythin' ready to go?” He asked, as he jumped in place, rolling his shoulders and wrists.

“Ready to rock and fuckin' roll.”

Ker looked over to the man sat in the corner, who outwardly appeared cocky and relaxed, cigarette in hand and legs up and resting on an amp.

But Ker knew better, far better. The nervous strum of metal fingers along the sideboard that hadn't ceased since they arrived and the empty pack of cigarettes laying on the floor told Kerry all he needed to know.

He gave his old friend a wide smile and smacked him on the shoulder.

“She's gonna fuckin' love it, Johnny. Now stop brooding, lets' go knock her dead.”

#spoilers #cyberpunk2077 #JohnnySilverhand #Female V #Johnny Silverhand / Female V #Canon? I don't know her #a liiiiitle bit of angst #Panam is the best damn friend and I love her so much #fic #eventual smut - you have been warned

[minniewoos]

The Sun Will Rise Again ➣ Bang Chan

Genre: mafia au, action, romance

Pairing: chan x reader

Word Count: 6,767

Warnings: violence, swearing, death, idk

Summary: Only looking for a comfy night in, your apartment gets broken into and you’re suddenly dragged into the city’s resident mafia. Turns out the only thing saving your life was your long lost little brother and the small spot the mob boss seemed to have for you. How cliche. 

There’s only so much a person could do on a winter night.

It’s 11 pm, sniffling, you pulled your comforter tighter around your body, trying to gather a little more warmth from the cool air. The lights in your bedroom were dim, so only the pale moon shone faintly through your apartment windows. A hot cup of tea was snug in the palms of your hands as the snow fell outside, landing softly in the soundless streets. You had your laptop pulled in front of you as you watched your latest Netflix obsession; despite the audio being low as to not disturb your neighbors through the paper walls, you were as immersed as you could be. It was a calm night in for you, and absolutely nothing could ruin it.

You took a sip from your mug and set it on your bedside table, eyes glued to your computer screen. Unfortunately, when pulling your hand back you bumped the cup of steaming liquid, spilling it all over your hand and floor. Cursing, you threw your comforter off and quietly rushed to your kitchen where you ran some cold water on your hand, hoping the burn is only minor. You sighed and rolled your eyes at yourself, but you weren’t going to let this ruin your night. You turned the faucet off, the silver handle creaked weakly. Quickly grabbing a few paper towels you returned to your bedroom to clean up the mess.

“Okay y/n, no more messes…” You threw the paper towels away after cleaning and smiled contently, ready to get back to your show, “Nope nope nope.”

Spoiler alert: things get messy

It’s 1 am, you’re caught up on Netflix and your eyelids were weighty. Your laptop was put away, you were ready for bed, and your pillow was the softest cloud on the planet. Content and tired, sleep was about to engulf you completely in your warm bed. Unfortunately, God had different plans for you.

BANG BANG BANG

Your eyes shoot open but you’re frozen in your bed, your blood running cold. That was the sound of somebody knocking–no, pounding on your door. And whoever it was was impatient as they kept on banging your door. You were scared they might break it down completely. Nervously you stepped out of bed, leaving the warmth and comfort it offered. You rushed to your front door and looked through the peephole; a disturbing, sinking feeling in your chest as you see three men. They were in all black clothing; no masks and you could see they were not happy.

“OPEN UP!!” One of them shouted and you felt the door jolt as he hit it once more. They would and could definitely break it down. This never happened in your area. Sure, it was a small and cheap place, but there was barely any crime around. You had no idea what to do in this state, causing your brain to go into instant panic mode.

Frightened and panicked, you grab the closest thing to you for protection: a lamp–not ideal but it would have to do…

Slowly you creep away from the door and hide, there was no way you were opening that door. It was like having a death wish and you didn’t exactly feel like dying tonight. Your chest felt like a giant snake enclosed itself around you, squeezing and constricting the breath out of you; it was terrifying. The feeling of total dread laid over you like a blanket as you hid in your kitchen, managing to fit yourself in a particularly empty cabinet. The out of place lamp and a few pots and pans kept you company.

You could hear what they were saying, as they didn’t bother keeping their voices hushed. It only made the suspense worse, and there wasn’t much room to breathe in your little hiding place and it was hard to think straight in this situation. You felt suffocated as if the small space was shrinking. Your blood was rushing upwards and you felt it pounding in your head, you couldn’t think.

“Fuck it, just break it down. That motherfucker definitely went in this one.”

The next thing you hear is a giant crack, a sort of whipping sound as your flimsy wooden door broke in two. You take in a constricted breath, your voice catching in the back of your throat. You clutch one of your metal pans as a scene from Tangled suddenly flashed through your head; you could only hope Disney did their research into frying pans.

Your eyes were clenched shut and your heartbeat was resounding in your head. You could hear the men trashing your apartment, flipping furniture over, slamming doors open, and knocking everything down. But when you heard them enter the kitchen you nearly stopped breathing. They were slamming your cabinets open one by one, and it was only a matter of time until they got to you. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think.

When it was time they reached you, the pounding in your head suddenly ceased, and there was silence for a brief instant. Suddenly one of the men pulled the cabinet door open; and he saw you there, shaking, with your eyes wide with fear. He smiled and your stomach dropped. The man clutched your arm and roughly dragged you out of the tiny space. Letting out a huge sob you were limp as he shook you around, finally gasping for the breath you were holding in.

“Hey! I found this little bitch.” He called to his colleagues, then looked at you, ”Where is he!?”

You didn’t know how to answer his question, but you were positive you weren’t going to just sit there and take the abuse you were receiving. You were terrified and had no idea what was going on. So, with the frying pan in hand, knuckles white and shaking, you swung it as hard as you could at the man’s face.

Contact was made.

He was not happy.

He ripped the frying pan from your hands and slapped you, causing you to fall out of his grip but you were on the floor now with tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Immediately the other two men were in the kitchen as well.

“Where is he? Huh??” One asked, crouching down to your level. But you only looked at him, dazed and confused; you noticed they were all older men.

“She’d hiding something, she fucking slammed me with a pan.”

You shook your head, “N-no, I don’t know wh-”

You were slapped again then grabbed by the hair, forcing you to look up at them, “Where. Is. he.”

Before you could answer, there was a gunshot that echoed throughout the room. The man who pulled you by the hair quickly crumpled to the ground. You instantly backed up, your back against your wall and utterly horrified. Blood began to pool underneath the man’s body. The two others were visibly panicked and about to run, but they were cornered. Your tiny apartment was five stories up and there was no way out except for the fire escape, but they didn’t know about that.

“He had a gun on him, he had a fucking gun. You said he wasn’t armed.”

“I thought he wasn’t, I-I made sure of it-” another gunshot and the second goon dropped to the ground as well, motionless. The sound caused both you and the original intruder to flinch; the older man stumbled to the ground in fear of the figure now towering above you both.

You finally tore your eyes away from the limp bodies on the floor and up at the perpetrator. His gaze looked as if it wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger on the last man, and you were sure he would. But instead of killing him, he walked up to the last man, a confident stride that tells you he was more than used to these scenes. His eyes were directly on the last man, and he stopped a few inches from him to crouch to meet his eyes. You noticed an accent as he spoke lowly, “There will be no more dealings with whatever C-class group you came from. And tell your boss SKZ won’t tolerate another accident. Leave… Now.”

And with that command, the man ran. He ran for his life and didn’t hesitate to get as far away from this new guy as he could…

The new man looked at you, visibly angered; immediately your heart jumped to your throat and whatever thoughts racing through your head vanished as a realization occurred to you. You could die tonight. You slowly began to accept your fate as the man raised his gun, pointed straight at your forehead. Staring right at him, right into his eyes, you said nothing as all words were lost to you. You swallowed air and held your breath.

But he never pulled the trigger; instead, he held two fingers to his ear, he was listening to something. You noticed he had some earpiece in. A flurry of emotions crossed this man’s face; anger, confusion, surprise, then finally conflict. He lowered his gun and looked back at you, sternly but had no murderous intent as he had a few moments prior. A small wave of relief lifted off your shoulders and you could only wonder what he heard to spare your life.

“Stand up, follow me.” He ordered abruptly.

You raised your eyebrows, “Sorry?”

“I said, follow me.”

You didn’t have to be told twice as you shakily stood up as he walked out of the building with you behind him. He held his fingers to his ear again and you heard him speaking to someone on the other side

“Call the cleanup crew, it’s messy this time. Much more than it should have been. Did Seungmin jam the emergency calls? …Good, I’m coming back to the home base.” You listened in, and the only thought in your mind was what the hell had you gotten yourself into. This was clearly illegal activity and there was no reason for you to be involved. Maybe you were going to be kidnapped and sold soon, or taken hostage. Whatever it was you wanted no part of it, but at this point, you found it impossible to refuse. The man seemed like he was done talking, but he added one more comment before putting his hand down, “Tell Felix she’s safe.”

That name caught your attention and you stared keenly at the man, waiting for him to say more but he didn’t. Your thoughts began to wander again. Felix? Did he just say Felix? You gazed at the man’s back as you trailed a few steps behind him, eyes wide after hearing your brother’s name. You couldn’t think of many people with the name Felix in Korea, but one you could think of is your brother. Well, was your brother. He disappeared a few years back and nobody heard from him again, a lot of people assumed he died. And while you held onto hope that this guy, Felix, could be your Felix, you knew the idea was ridiculous. Felix was gone for years, and you could never see him doing stuff like this. But why would this Felix want you safe? Why would your life be spared? You held onto a tiny bit of hope for your brother despite the absurd idea.

When the man stopped walking, you realized he led you to a car. It was polished, all black, and unmistakably expensive. He opened the back door, looking at you expectantly. You only stared back for a moment before you realized he wanted you to get in. Your mouth opened slightly and he saw your hesitation in his request. He pursed his lips then sighed, “It’s safe, you’ll be protected and things will be explained later. But we need to leave quickly. Please get in.”

You furrowed your eyebrows; in any other situation, you would have vehemently denied ever getting into a stranger’s car like this. But considering everything you just witnessed, you were in no position to deny this man. You swallowed a lump in your throat before climbing into his backseat. He shut the door then got into the driver’s seat himself, he started the car but didn’t press on the gas as you expected. Instead, he pulled out a piece of cloth from the glove box, turned around and held it out to you.

“You’ll have to wear this on the way. You aren’t allowed to see where we’ll be going,” And very deliberately, he pulled out his gun and setting it on his dashboard for you to see, his message was clear. So, you took the blindfold from him and put it on securely. It was a couple minutes before you felt the car moving, but the silence was deafening and you were still scared shitless about where he was taking you. You didn’t want to talk and risk angering him, but there was still something you wanted to know.

“Just one thing, what’s your name?”

He didn’t answer right away, but when he did reply, his voice was calm and welcoming in a way. Much different from his stern and curt tone from earlier; you preferred it much more.

“My names Bang Chan, I wish we could have met on better terms, Lee y/n.”

∎∎∎

It was a good thirty minutes before you heard Chan turn the car off and get out, shutting the door. You heard him speak to a couple other people before he opened your door and told you your blindfold could come off. When you took it off you blinked a couple times before gawking in awe at the absolutely giant house in front of you. Even in the dark, you could tell it was an extravagant mansion. It had a very clean and chic feel to it; it had tall off-white walls with balconies spread across the sides. The tall, angular windows along with the sleek design gave it a modern and classy look to it. Your small, cheap apartment paled in comparison to this enormous house.

You looked at Chan, and the couple other guys he was with. One was broad-shouldered with a strong set jaw, while the other was shorter but you could see he wasn’t little at all and could probably pack a good punch. You nodded politely at them both, despite the unnerving feeling you had.

“I don’t see the resemblance Hyung. Is he sure he got the right person…?” The shorter one stated, his arms crossed as he seemed to analyze you. You shifted your weight and promptly avoided eye contact.

“Well whoever she is, you know the protocol. There are absolutely no witnesses; so we either kill her or take her.” The one with the broader shoulders said easily. So casually it freaked you out, just how often did they do this??

He then looked straight at you and popped a polite smile; the sudden change in attitude nearly gave you whiplash, “I’m Woojin, this is Changbin.” He gestured to the shorter one, “And you’ve already met Chan.” Then Chan also gave you a warming smile; presenting a completely different version of him you witnessed only a half-hour prior.

You nodded, not sure what to say thus you stayed silent. It felt as if one wrong step would mean life or death, but these guys are out here smiling at you. It was a conflicting situation at best and a deadly one at worst.

“Come inside, but don’t touch anything.” Chan warned you, then lead the way into the mansion.

Once inside, you could tell it was just as grand as the outside. A crystal chandelier hung above the entrance, a red carpet greeted you, and a ceiling as tall as the heavens it seemed. The decor had a white with gold accents theme to it and felt like you were on a movie set, ready to go to a ball. But instead of a ball, you were in a very different situation; one where you could die any second surrounded by people you don’t know. You swallowed the lump in your throat and sighed as you tried to calm your nerves. Everything was fine.

Following the three guys, they lead you to a sort of dining room area; big, long oak table and all. Elaborately decorated oak chairs to match, there was even the ‘big boss chair’ at one end of the long table. You swallowed and looked at Chan, your face asking what happens next. He just gestured for you to sit down while he walked over to the big boss chair. You stared at him for a solid moment before unconsciously rolling your eyes, of course, he was the boss. He exuded confidence ever since you saw him (try to kill you). Changbin saw your little eye roll and looked at you questionably, you just sat up straighter and evaded his eyes. You had a feeling the people here didn’t like you, Changbin and Woojin were staring you down, probably trying to judge your character. Chan was looking to the right at the stairs. You just took a deep breath, Woojin and Changbin were getting intimidating, so you followed Chans gaze towards the stairs and saw a few more people walking down. Specifically, four more boys came down the stairs, all calm but it seemed you were the center of attention. You gulped and looked at each boy sitting down at the table, all looking at you as well, but a couple shortly lost interest.

Nobody said anything, so you crossed your hands on the table and stated calmly albeit a bit nervous, “Hello, I’m y/n… and I’d like to kno-”

“Not everyone is here yet, we’ll introduce ourselves once the other two get here.” One who just sat down said, he seemed stern. You just sat back and stayed quiet, slightly annoyed about the chastising you got, but you knew better than to protest.

You were nervous, to say the least. But you wanted this over with asap.

It was another few minutes of silence, very awkward silence. You settled for staring at your folded hands instead of looking around, some of the boys were still judging you while others couldn’t seem to care less. You were just hoping the rest could get here as soon as possible, so this inevitably uncomfortable meeting could start.

A few minutes passed, or maybe it was a few seconds. You couldn’t tell since your sense of time slipped your mind. But a door suddenly hurled open. It startled you, causing you to flinch in your seat and your head to snap up in the direction of the loud noise. Most other boys sitting at the table turned their attention but weren’t alarmed in the slightest as if they were expecting it. In the doorway, there stood two boys. One was out of breath and rushed, you perked up at the sight of him.

“Wh-where is she?? Is she safe?” One of the boys, the owner of the unmistakable freckles and sharp eyes, questioned urgently.

There was another boy behind him, looking exhausted and annoyed, “Calm down-Chan said she was safe so there’s no need to-”

Ignoring the other boy, he scanned the room but his eyes quickly landed on you, they lit up immediately, “y/n!”

You stood up suddenly, the chair was pushed back and cluttered to the ground behind you and your hands slammed flat onto the table. You leaned forward, eyes wide and you held your breath for a moment. Then your face broke out into a huge smile, toothy grin and all, “FELIX!!!”

You ran over to him as he returned the smile, that smile you could never forget. That wonderful, beautiful, hopeful smile you grew up with. You found Felix. You ran into his arms, and he hugged you tightly; he felt so familiar and warm in this cold place. You stayed like that for a while, you couldn’t tell how long but his comforting presence was needed during this wild night. Your face was hidden and tears began to prick your eyes, sternly you pulled away and punched his chest, “Lee Felix! You have a lot of explaining to do!”

You stared at him and for a moment he looked worried, then he pulled you back into a hug and stroked your hair comfortingly, “I know, I know, I will too. But first, we need to get this done with okay…? y/n?”

You reluctantly pulled away and nodded, lips pursed and walked back to your seat, which was picked up for you. Thankfully, Felix sat next to you, as a result, it wasn’t as nerve-wracking before. But as you looked at Felix, you could see the physical difference in him; he grew up a lot in a few years. He lost the baby fat in his face, he was paler, and he definitely lost the childhood innocence you last saw him with. Felix grew up, without you; and as his older sister that hurt deep. You frowned and pushed your feelings to the side for a while, turning your attention to the group in front of you. And especially towards the big boss in the big boss seat, Bang Chan. He stared at you intently, the friendly aura he had before was gone and everyone at this moment was serious.

“Aw, what a cute reunion.” One of the boys cooed, you noticed he had especially chubby cheeks, and you couldn’t tell if he was teasing or not. You were pretty sure he was.

You only kept your silence, not going to start anything, especially with probable dangerous people. You weren’t that dumb.

“No one cares Han.” Chan spoke up, dismissing this Hans teasing, but his comment wasn’t malicious in the way you thought it would be. Not friendly either, but like two old buddies’ banter.

Chan was solemn once again and he looked straight at you. Just his simple gaze caused your heart to move up to your throat and you unintentionally swallowed the lump, “Now, miss Lee y/n, we are well aware that your involvement in tonight’s business was…nondeliberate. But due to our regulations, no outsiders are allowed to witness our business with such detail and concern. We are a very underground and discreet organization. Any attempt or the possibility of our operations being exposed are taken care of. With such a big mess that was caused in your apartment, things had to be taken care of quickly. So, there should currently be a cleanup crew at your apartment at this moment and if I’m correct, we intercepted all calls to the authorities in that area. While there was a big mess, we have it all under control, and the only outlier was you, y/n. You understand?” Chan quickly explained to you; you could only nod quietly. He then continued explaining.

“To put it simply, we were going to kill you. But Felix, our top sniper, was stationed tonight at the building next to yours. He recognized you and requested your life to be spared. Due to his high position in our organization, I accepted his request. Felix is to thank for your life. And now, since you’re here, you are still an outsider; and we will decide what to do with you. Your best option, truthfully, would be to join us. The other options…are less than desirable.” Chan finished, his eyes glued to you the entire time, stern and intense. You nodded again.

“I… have one request before we move forward.” You tread carefully, watching the others’ expressions before continuing. They were listening to you; Chan made a gesture for you to continue with your request. “I would like to know all your names, I only know a few of you. And it would be nice to know who you all are if I’m going to stay here.” You lifted your chin up, trying to stay confident while simultaneously announcing your decision to join this mafia.

Felix perked up beside you, “You’re going to join SKZ? You’re sure.”

“I mean, do I really have a choice?” You stated confidently, despite your sweaty palms and goosebumps, “I either die, or some other…undesirable outcome, or I join you guys. Am I right? I would at least like to know the people here if I stay.”

“It’s not that easy, you have to prove yourself and it’s not easy. People don’t pass often.” Woojin said calmly.

You straightened your back, “Well I’ll try.” You saw Chan smirk from the side but promptly ignore it. You also decide to ignore the little thump-thump your heart did before you looked away from him.

“Well, now that that’s settled, I’m going to introduce myself again, per your request.” Chan announced with a smile and a charismatic hand gesture, “As you already know, I’m Bang Chan. Whatever you want to call me, mob boss, mafia boss, crime lord, SKZ leader, etc. I’m basically the head guy here.”

He did it again, he changed the way he presented himself and just made you feel…comfortable. You were usually wary of people like him, but without thinking, you smirk cheekily and just say, “What about the godfather?” Internally laughing at your own lame little joke. You then realized what you said and mentally curse yourself, what an idiot. You sighed deeply before looking at the table

But Chan didn’t seem to mind, he shrugged, “It’s an offer I can’t refuse.” He’s smirking again, and your heart is acting up again. Consequently, you nervously turn away, but he continues to talk, “And I’m sorry but everyone here has work to do, it’s a very busy day. So, everyone is dismissed.”

With that command everyone got up out of their seats to continue their work, a couple smiled at you and others walked off to ignore you completely. Felix stood up but stayed by your side and Chan got out of his chair. You were confused until Felix began talking.

“I can show her around, right? I’m not as busy as the others and I can introduce her to the others in the meantime.” Felix asked politely.

Chan nodded, “Of course, I was going to show her around but it may be more comfortable for her brother to do that. But try not to take up the others’ time too much. You guys can catch up as well.” He paused then offered a gentle smile, “I think you need it.”

You smiled back thankfully, if Chan had shown you around, you could’ve guessed your hands would’ve been clammy the entire time. You don’t like it, but the way you get nervous around him is inconvenient; besides, he was going to kill you just a little while ago. Your nerves are valid. Chan left the room and the little pressure on your chest left, you looked at Felix, a little smile on both your faces.

“So… during this tour, are you going to explain yourself?”

“I-…yes.”

“Good, let’s go.” You pointed towards the staircase some of the other boys came down and walked in that direction.

“Those are the boys’ rooms.”

You swiveled around and held your arms out in any direction, “You lead the way.”

He chuckled and started walking and you followed closely behind.

“So, let’s start from the bottom, right.” Felix said, leading you into a hallway and down a set of stairs and down another hallway until we got to a set of oak doors, they weren’t huge or grand. But just a humble, plain set of doors, “This is Jeongin’s workspace.”

And with that, the tour began. You met all the members, some more gracious than others. But Felix seemed close to all of them and you were glad to spend the time with your brother. He explained what the other members were in charge of, their jobs, and their importance in the organization. During the tour is when you realized the complexities of this mafia and just how much goes into it. Felix explained as much as he could to you without going too deep into secrets that would probably get you killed if you knew, and you knew not to tread too deep right now.

You also learned there weren’t only nine people in SKZ, but each member had certain underlings who they trained or kept track of. Ensuring secrecy while also having more manpower.

You nodded at Felix, “I figured it would be weird if a mafia as powerful as SKZ only had nine people, SKZ basically rule the city from what you’ve told me. I mean you’re pretty great but I don’t think you’re superhuman.” You nudged him as you walked side by side.

“But I am superhuman. You ever seen me with a sniper rifle? I’m always on target.” He said proudly, albeit half-jokingly.

“Okay, but if you were superhuman that would not be your superpower.” You mused, “If anything it’d be…super strength. You always talked about getting bigger and working out.” And you can see since you last saw him, he did gain muscle. Only reminding you once again he’s not the same kid as before.

“Anyway.” you wondered, “Where do the underlings stay? You said before most people in SKZ are, well, stray kids.”

“They are, but SKZ sponsors boarding houses around the city and suburbs. We ensure they have a roof over their head and food on their plates.” Felix said as he gained a serious look on his face, “It’s hard for a lot of kids who have nowhere else to go. We take care of them as long as they give us loyalty back.”

It was an odd dynamic, crime lords in their twenties and teens; and they took care of other young adults. An organization of kids who constantly kept the law on its toes. It was kind of amusing to you.

Eventually, Felix lead you to a balcony, top floor of the building with a breathtaking view. As he opened the door for you, you stared at the scenery in wonder. A small golden ball rose in the distance while an ombre of oranges and pinks surrounded it. The skyline of the city SKZ owned was a shadow against the beautiful sunrise. The view was complemented by light snow flurries, but it was oddly warm out for the weather. Gentle snow, yet not frigid like it normally was, for the sun seemed to take some of the bite away from the chilly air. You stared at the lovely view until Felix caught your attention, leaning against the stone railing. You went to stand next to him and waited for him to speak.

“I thought this would be a good place to talk.” Felix frowned, he looked like he was dreading this moment. Like a child who knows he was caught and about to get scolded. He looked at you, and you frowned, furrowing your eyebrows.

“You don’t have to go into detail…but I just want to know why.” You saw it would be painful for him to recall his memories, bring up old scars in what was a hard point in his life, “We can talk more another day but, I really just want to know why…”

He let out a heavy sigh and licked his lips nervously, “I wasn’t going anywhere I wanted to in life. And I feel a lot freer than I would have if I stayed.” And there he gave you a look, and you knew that was all you would get out of him to be comfortable right now.

You only nodded, not tempted to push the subject despite the curiosity in the back of your mind. After that there was a thick silence hanging in the air, the two of you stood looking out at the city skyline as the sun rose and the day was beginning. You’d be lying if you said the atmosphere was comfortable.

You’ve been on edge all night, the highlight was finding Felix but despite that, your nerves were running wild the whole time. Your life was flipped upside down and you weren’t sure what you were going to do anymore. All you wanted to do was sleep but instead, your apartment got broken into, you almost got murdered, and now you’re joining the mafia. Even with Felix by your side, your beloved brother, you weren’t as happy as you would’ve thought. This whole night was overwhelming for you, and in spite of Felix’s best efforts to make you feel content, you were always on edge. Felix must’ve read the atmosphere and looked at you, noticing your frown he looked down and sighed.

“I can leave you for a little while, you look like you want some time.”

You shrugged, “Maybe just an hour? Then I’ll need some sleep…” you said reluctantly, you did just want to rest alone, despite Felix being the only familiar thing to you here.

Felix only nodded understandingly and headed towards the door, and before he shut it, he turned around and smiled, “I’ve missed you, a lot y/n.” And with that, he shut the door, leaving you by yourself there. The city ahead of you, the rising sun behind the city, and the tiny snowflakes floating around you; you noticed they melted as soon as they reached the ground. And you realized that as soon as Felix left, you didn’t want to be alone, it felt empty. You just wanted to feel safe again.

You stood there in silence for a while, your thoughts running from one place to another. Eventually, you just smiled to yourself as an odd laugh bubbled up from your throat; it was short, high pitched, and full of absolute disbelief. You pinched yourself a couple times, just to make sure this wasn’t some elaborate dream you were stuck in. After looking at the city once more, you rubbed your eyes with the incredulous smile still gracing your face. Only one thought crossed your mind, “What the fuck.”

“Mafia? Long lost brother? Hot and rich boss? What is this a drama?” You muttered to yourself, exhausted and confused. Leaning on the banister, you hung your head low with a sigh as you stared at the ground below you.

Then you snapped your head up, “I just called Bang Chan hot and rich…” you groaned and rubbed your face, “Just kill me.”

Then, you heard the sound of the balcony door shutting and you silently cursed yourself. Somebody just walked onto the balcony and surely heard you talking to yourself like a madman, ninety percent sure it was Felix. You weren’t in the mood to hear Felix teasing you about calling his boss hot, and he most definitely would do that.

You turned around with a frown, ready for a snarky comment to come your way. But you were met with dimples and a cheeky smile instead. Here you found yourself face to face with the man himself, Bang Chan.

An ‘oh god’ was uttered from your lips as the blood from your body gradually moved to your cheeks, the heat of your embarrassment was overwhelming. This was definitely a drama and you were the cringey main character. You were half expecting Chan to walk back out, but instead his grin just got wider.

“Rich? Yes. Hot? Now that’s objective.” He said, dimples on display with a small chuckle.

“You know what’s not objective, my embarrassment.” You leaned your back on the banister, fully facing Chan now. But your face was turned down and your arms were crossed, You were clearly flustered and apparently Chan seemed to find that amusing but he held his arms up as if in surrender.

“You didn’t hear anything, got it?” You warned with a pointer finger in his direction. Your cheeks were red and you were definitely not intimidating. But Chan played along anyway.

“Hear what?” The dimples were back and your heart might have done a somersault.

You smiled, “Nothing.”

Then you both laughed, soft and short laughs. His laugh sounded genuine, a small chuckle that showed a mutual amusement for the little interaction you shared. And despite the embarrassment still fresh on your mind, you seemed to have calmed down some.

You then looked back out to the city skyline, outlined by the orange sky. That’s when you heard the scraping on chairs behind you, you looked around and found that Chan had pulled up a couple of chairs next to the banister. He sat down comfortably and patted the seat next to him, motioning for you to sit down.

“Come on, you must be tired.”

Almost instantaneously you collapsed into the chair, the cushions were like heaven as you leaned back and closed your eyes. And as soon as you sat down, the exhaustion you barely felt before hit you like a wave. Your eyes became heavy and you yawned out, “Thank you.”

It was a long night, and you were grateful for his kindness.

“Listen, y/n,” He rested his hand over yours comfortingly, he got your attention, “I know it’s a lot to take in. The night was stressful and unfamiliar. You felt unsafe, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you still feel like that. I apologize for dragging you into all of this, it was distressing for you. But I will try to make it so you can feel comfortable and safe with Stray Kids. You will have time to adjust and learn the routines here, and of course finding your place with us. If you ever need help, you can come to me and I will try my best. And of course you have Felix, even the others in here. We will keep you safe, okay?” Chan looked at you intently, speaking with purpose and a genuine heart. It was the gentlest you’ve seen him and what he said had touched your heart. It was as if the dark cloud hovering over your heart cleared away a bit, the stress was lifted with his words. You looked into his eyes and you knew he stood by his words.

“Thank you, Chan,” you looked down at your lap, “truly, I mean it.”

“SKZ is a safe haven to a lot of people, and I want it to be one for you too.”

You nodded with a faint smile on your lips, then you looked up at the rising sun and the beautiful scene before you. It was like you couldn’t get enough of it, “It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?”

Chan hummed in agreement and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you both watched the sunrise. Despite whatever happened previously, you felt oddly relaxed next to Chan. He wasn’t familiar like Felix, but he gave off a similar warmth as Felix did. Well, at least now he did, you had seen a lot of different sides of Chan in one night. But this one was the warmest one, and you were glad for the company and ease he provided.

Eventually, as the both of you sat in comforting silence, sleep caught up to you and you felt your heavy eyelids finally close. The songs of morning birds lulled you to drift off to sleep. After your crazy night, it didn’t take long for you to go into a deep sleep, your head suddenly falling to one side. You were out and weren’t waking up soon.

Chan, enjoying the moment, started to hear soft snores from you. He knew you were sleeping before he even looked over, and he didn’t realize it, but the corner of his lips turned up ever so slightly. Thinking your neck looked uncomfortable, he scooted his chair a bit closer to yours and moved your head so that you were leaning on his shoulder. Not even stirring as he moved you. He even wrapped his jacket around you, providing you with some more warmth. Later, he would bring you back inside and let you rest somewhere more snug and comfortable, but right now, he just wanted to enjoy the moment and let you relax.

Chan smiled as he looked at you, the worry that’s been present on your face all night was gone and you finally looked at peace. The stress and anxiety seemed to disappear with sleep. He thought you were beautiful. Very softly, Chan promised, “You are safe here, you won’t be harmed with us. I’ll make sure of it.”

a/n: I honestly think it’s still kinda rough, but I’m impulsive and couldn’t wait any longer to post it so tada~  Like I said before this is gonna be a series so every members gonna get a story. idk who’s next but look forward to it!

#stray kids #stray kids imagine #stray kids fanfic #bang chan imagine #bang chan fanfic #bang chan mafia au #bang chan x reader #skz #bang chan #kpop #kpop imagine #kpop imagines #stray kids imagines #bang chan imagines #mafia au #stray kids mafia au #stray kids mafia #romance #cb97 #christopher bang #angst #fluff #action #pls I love mafia aus so much #also this is so cliché lmao #chan is a mafioso is a concept #my works

[jovialjudgebonkalmond]

Inevitable, Ch 2

Once again, obvious disclaimer, I don’t own the characters or universe in which the story takes place - yes internet I am that old, thank you.

Summary: Monty is alive, in jail. A recounting of his experiences and memories and basically all those flashbacks we weren’t given in season 4 that I am butthurt about. It is AU in the sense that he is still alive whilst Clay & Co are attempting to frame him for Bryce’s murder. Obvious spoiler alerts if you haven’t seen season 4.

Pairings will be Monty x Winston mainly. So far this is all from Monty’s POV but that may change down the line.

Warnings include violence, sex, drug use, rape, murder, and basically everything graphic and bad you can imagine. Will absolutely contain smut. Oh, and swearing. This chapter has the added benefit of mention’s of suicide (but given the show’s content I’m sure you saw this coming?), and also domestic abuse/child abuse. Oh and homophobic slurs.

Obligatory reminder: This is from Monty’s point of view. Clearly he didn’t view his actions with the totality of how devastatingly monsterous they were. I condemn his actions, he’s a rapist and deserved jail time. As we saw in s3 and in snippets of s4 he didn’t share that point of view. I think Monty is a dynamic character that’s interesting and I relate a lot to his back story. That’s why I was motivated to write this.

Ch 2 word count: 5,554 words (sorry not sorry guys)

Monty braced his hands on the edges of the tiny stainless steel sink, squinting as he gazed into the grimy sheet of metal bolted to the wall that was supposed to function as a mirror. He could see a blur of his skin, and the orange of his  shirt...and that was it. His face was throbbing and he couldn't eat his breakfast. "Fuck." He muttered to himself, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes. He held his breath, his aching ribs adding to the cacophony of pain of his head and hand. His hand was swollen across his knuckles and stiff, the muscles in his right arm trembling just with the effort of hanging on to the sink. He reached up with his left hand and ran it over his jaw. It, too, was swollen. He opened his mouth as wide as he could, gripping his molars with his fingers and placing his thumbs at the base of his jaw. His body shuddered and his stomach growled loudly.

I know, we're gonna fix this.

He jerked his jaw down, over, and then up in a swift, fluid motion. It made a sickeningly loud pop and Monty held back a retch, his body going from hot to cold as he felt his adrenaline pounding through his veins uncontrolled. He took a few choking, deep breaths and began to pace in a small circle, breathing hard through his nose. He dropped to the floor gracefully into a plank position as he had a thousand times for football drills, braced himself on his hands while his broken knuckles screamed at him. He lowered himself to the floor and sucked in a deep breath, his nose almost grazing the concrete. He exhaled and pushed up, hearing his ribs crack loudly as they shifted. They felt wrong inside of him, like they didn't fit where they belonged and it made it hard to breathe. He inhaled and lowered himself again, pushing through the pain. He felt powerless. He carried on, not counting reps as he picked up a smooth and even pace.  He was lost inside himself, no concept of time passing. There were no clocks, save for the one on the microwave in the common room and he wasn't there right now. 

"Your mother, she hasn't stopped crying since they pick you up." His father stated with a heavy accent.He felt a pang of shame in his chest and closed his eyes for a moment, the shackles hanging like a dead weight off his wrists. He swallowed hard, his throat feeling suddenly dry and tight.

"I'm sorry." he said thickly, his back stiff. His fear felt alive inside of him, like it had a mind of its own. He avoided eye contact with his father. He could feel the rage radiating off of him and he felt the all too familiar dread sinking in.

"I bust my ass for this family, and this is what you do?" His father continued, leaning forward. Monty hazarded a glance at him from the corner of his eye, not daring to breathe. He blinked, feeling his mind beginning to reel.

"Answer me!"

Monty jumped and blinked again, feeling stupid and cornered. His heart was racing.

"What? What answer do you want?" He hated hearing the sound of his own desperation in his voice, the way it broke at the end.

"Is it true? What they're saying?"

Monty felt his body stiffen even more, if that was at all possible. He tried to shrug it off, blinking again.

"What are- what are they saying?" He stammered. It felt as though there was a fist clamped around his throat.

"You damn well know."

Monty stared straight ahead of him, feeling the all too familiar sensation of  his blood pounding in his ears and through his veins. He clenched his jaw and stayed silent.

"They're saying that you assaulted a kid. That you sexually assaulted a kid. A boy! That true?" He couldn't help but notice the tone his father's voice took on at the word 'boy'.

"It wasn't sexual assault. I was just...messin' with him." Monty said, shifting his shoulders as though his shuffling could make his actions go away, like an irritating fly tickling his skin.

"You were messing with him?" His dad blinked, his eyes darkening, "The way they said? Why would you do that shit? To a boy? Are you some kind of faggot?!" The disgust in his voice was palpable, but it wasn't the fact that he was being charged with sexual assault that disgusted him so, that much was glaringly clear.

Monty's body felt hot all over, his eyes beginning to well with tears. He clenched his jaw again and stole his resolve.

"What if I was dad? What if I was?" He locked his gaze on his father's dark, furious eyes. The rage and contempt the look he was met with took his breath away.

"You're going to prison. You know what they do to guys like you in there?" He scanned him up and down quickly, as though sizing him up.

"And what do they do? Describe it." He mumbled defiantly, squaring his chin.

"You're going to get beat to shit. At the minimum. They will beat you down."

Monty leaned back, unable to stop himself. What the fuck did it matter now anyway.

"Yeah, well, at least none of them will be my dad."

He could see the storm in his father's eyes, and he was suddenly grateful he was in jail. The chair scraped on the concrete as his dad stood, towering over him with the blackest eyes he had ever seen. Mr. de la Cruz was staring at him as though he had known it all along.

"Are you a faggot?" He asked, with a tone that suggested he already had the answer.

Fuck it, he thought, and fuck you.

He looked up and locked eyes with the man whom he had feared, loathed, worshiped... his whole life.

"Sure."

The moment could have lasted an eternity. His father stared at him in disgusted silence before spitting in his face and walking out, leaving him sitting there alone in his shackles. It hurt more than a fist. He closed his eyes, feeling as though his heart was shattering in his chest. The spit was hot and sticky, burning his left eye it landed on. He clenched his jaw again, his eyebrows furrowing as he fought back his tears. He tried to wipe the spit off of his face but his shackles stopped him from being able to reach. He rubbed the side of his face on his shoulder as though he could wipe away his shame with it, his breathing ragged.

"Hey inmate."

Monty jumped, the voice knocking him back to reality. He stood carefully, his body aching at his lack of forgiveness to it, and looked at the C.O.

"Yes sir?"

"You have an appointment with your lawyer. Come on."

He blinked slowly, following the guard out of his cell. I don't have a lawyer..? 

The guard marched him to a set of doors where he was pat down and shackled once more. They took him down a hallway he had never been down before, the shackles making his strides short and awkward, forcing him to hunch forward. It made him look small. The hall had rooms with windows that opened to the hallway. The guard opened one of the doors and Monty followed him inside.

There was a woman sitting at a large table with several file folders. Her black hair was up in a bun and she was wearing a pantsuit with a blouse. It was jarring, seeing someone outside of uniform or the orange jumpsuit. He shuffled toward the table and she glanced up at him, surveying him quietly with blue eyes he couldn't read. He sat down across from her and tried to shuffle his chair closer to the table with little success.

 The guard stepped in and closed the door. The woman turned her attention from him to the guard.

"You can wait outside." She dismissed him. He looked as though he was going to argue with her but then thought better of it and left. Monty could see him watching them through the glass.

"Hello Mr. de la Cruz." She said, opening one of the files and glancing at it before looking back at him. "I am Eva Guerrero. I am a defense attorney and I work for a non-profit organization, and we were forwarded your case and I am here to offer you legal representation for your trial, if you choose to have one. I have spent some time reviewing your case and I have a few thoughts, and a few questions."

Monty sat there, staring at her for awhile. He blinked while he waited for his brain to catch up. It didn't.

"Okay." He said curtly, instantly on the defensive.

"You presently have two charges filed against you. That is correct? The sexual assault of Tyler Down and the murder of Bryce Walker..?"

Monty stood in the dim light of his bedroom, one of the bulbs in the ceiling was burnt out. It cast long shadows up the dark beige walls. It made the hole he punched in his white door look cavernous. He gazed at his reflection in the mirror, his breathing steady and calm...resolute. Tears trickled silently down his face, pooling on the wooden surface of his dresser. They slipped off the chips and dings in the surface and flowed off of the edge. His arm trembled as it held the cold steel of the gun, pressing into the side of his temple. His finger curled around the trigger, his other hand pressed on the top of the dresser to brace himself. There was only one bullet in the chamber, but he only needed one.

"Where are you, you son of a bitch!" His father roared, bursting into the room and yanking him from his thoughts. His blood pounded in his ears and he rounded on the taller man, not even feeling human anymore.

"You wanna go old man?!" Monty yelled, taking the gun away from his own face and leveling it at the chest of his father, finger still poised on the trigger. The man staggered back, clearly intoxicated. His face flashed shock for a moment before he began to laugh, contempt replacing his former fearful expression as though it had never existed. Monty's heart was hammering in his chest like it was going to explode. His body was moving outside of his control, his desperation having a mind of its own and an appetite for destruction.

"You going to shoot me?" The older man laughed again and muttered derisively in Spanish before closing the space between them, leaning into the gun. "Do it then. You're the man now."

Monty locked eyes with his monster, his boogeyman, and felt his resolve begin to crumble just as he always crumbled under his father's fists and rage. He lowered the gun and made to shove passed him to get through the door but his dad grabbed him roughly around his abdomen and chucked him into it. He heard it crack under his weight and his lungs strained as the wind was knocked out of him. He choked and gasped for a moment, in a heap on the ground still holding the gun.

"You're just a coward." His dad hissed, booting him hard in the ribs. He hated himself for not being able to hold back his whimper at the pain. "Were you fucking crying? Crying like a lady-boy? Like a faggot?!"

He sucked in a ragged breath and dragged himself to his feet, running haphazardly  through the hallway. He needed to get the fuck out of here before this ended in regret. His dad pursued him, hot on his tail, stopping momentarily to grab a bottle of liquor off of the counter.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going you little shit?!"

"I'm getting the fuck out of here!" Monty yelled, opening the front door. His dad grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and yanked him backwards, slamming him against the wall and backhanded him. He tasted blood. He shoved his dad as hard as he could, away from him and ran out the door without looking back. His dad staggered drunkenly and fell over. It didn't stop him for long, just slowed him down momentarily, Monty heard his drunken shuffling footsteps chasing him out the door.

"Come back here you coward!" He yelled, chucking the bottle at Monty. It shattered beside his feet and he stepped on the glass. It crunched under the soles of his shoes, gritty on the gravel driveway. The alcohol splashed up his pants, staining and stinking. He fumbled for his keys, hands shaking and jerking as adrenaline sent his nerves haywire. He popped the safety back on the gun and tossed it in the back storage compartment. He started the Jeep and threw it in reverse, slamming his foot on the gas and gunning it down the driveway. His tires screeched shrilly on the pavement and the SUV lurched with his sudden movements.

He put the Jeep into drive and stomped on the gas, not knowing where he was going. There was nothing but the sound of his engine, the tires rumbling on the pavement noisily and his suspension rattling every so often as he went over a bump or pothole in the road. And his seemingly-endless-blood pounding in his ears-level rage. His vision blurred with tears, the road and lights melted blurs whipping passed him with no recognition. He sobbed, unable to catch his breath. His chest felt empty, like a gaping wound raw and shredded on the edges. Minutes turned into hours and became nothing. Eventually he had no energy left to sob, no tears left to cry.

He eased off of the gas pedal and soaked in the emptiness that consumed him. The air around him was cold and light, the stars dancing above him and the moon hung over it all like a fucking spotlight for his shit show.

He slowed and stopped, realizing he recognized the house he was in front of. His heart skipped a beat. He shouldn't be here. He put the Jeep in park and pushed the door open, stepping out of the vehicle. He left the door open as he walked ponderously along the curb. The house was like a mansion, towering on top of a small expensively landscaped hill. With a huge, wall-like cement fence with wrought iron details on top. Four pillars boarded each edge of the horse-shoe shaped driveway, one of those fancy ones that you can drive in and out of in a  half circle. The pillars had lamps on top made out of matching wrought iron that bathed him in golden light, like a caricature of an angel.

He didn't belong here.

He stood at the mouth of the driveway, his arms hanging limply at his sides. He sighed, turning to go when he saw a figure approaching him. The tall, slender, dark haired young man stepped into the light. His dark, brown eyes were muddied with confusion. He wore a light coat thrown over a grey cable knit sweater and olive coloured slacks, lacking his usual carefully chosen attire. It was evident he just threw it on in a hurry to run outside. His heavy brows furrowed, his expression flipping rapidly from confusion to concern.

"Monty- what are you doing here? My parents are actually home...you probably don't want to- why are you bleeding? Are you ok?!" He stumbled his words in a rush.

Monty stood there with his arms limp at his side for a few moments, trying to feel anything other than the brokenness that consumed him. He knew the desperation showed on his face like an open book and he loathed himself for it. He could never hide it, not in front of Winston. The other boy had a way of running his fingers over his spine and cracking him open like a dam waiting to flood the world. And tonight, he was nothing if not an open wound.

"Monty?!" Winston insisted, taking another step towards him.

"Bryce is dead." He said hollowly.

Winston blinked, glancing back to the house and then back to Monty. He closed the space between them, Monty's heart leaping into his throat. Winston took his hand and ran his fingers over his knuckles and palm with an aching tenderness.

"Okay, let's get out of here then." He said calmly. Damn him. Winston gave his hand a gentle squeeze and tilted his face to lock his warm eyes with Monty's avoidant gaze. Monty looked back at him knowing he wasn't able to hide his pain behind his mask anymore. He returned the gentle squeeze before walking back to the Jeep and climbing in, his heart racing once more. Winston climbed in the passenger seat, doing a double take at the gun in the back.

"Is that a gun?! What are you doing with a gun?! How did you even get a gun?!?!"

Monty clenched his jaw, starting the Jeep with a stuttering rumble. It was an old Jeep, and its age was showing. Monty couldn't help but feel uncomfortable having the boy who was used to so much luxury in his piece of shit SUV. 

Although if Winston had any opinions, he kept them to himself. Monty glanced at the gun in the corner of his eye, barely tilting his face before looking at Winston for a moment and putting the vehicle in drive.

"It was a gift." He muttered, nonchalantly. Winston looked taken aback but didn't ask anymore questions as Monty drove off. Monty turned up the music, indicating he didn't want to talk anymore. Winston reached over and  held Monty's hand that was resting in his lap. Monty didn't fight it or pull away, allowing the other boy to gently stroke his fingers. He felt the pounding rage and anxiety, poised for the attack, slowly recede under Winston's unfairly soft touch.

"They found him in the water...by the docks." Monty said thickly, the dam threatening to break again. "They say he was shot...he was murdered."

"Murdered?! Holy fuck..." Winston gasped, sucking in a quick breath. It was clear he was rattled. "Who would do that?"

"Oh I think I know." Monty said, a clearly menacing tone to his voice. "Cops hauled me in for questioning. Cuffed me and chucked my ass in the back seat and everything. What a fucking show."

Winston looked taken aback.

"But Bryce was your friend?! Why would they think you killed him?!" Winston asked, despite the gun sitting in the back of the Jeep like a verifiable elephant in the room.

"We had a fight before he was killed." Monty grumbled, stepping on the gas a little. "He was killed homecoming night."

Winston took a deep breath, surveying Monty carefully.

"While you were with me?"

"If I was fuckin' there he wouldn't be fuckin' dead right now!" Monty yelled. "I should have been there. I could have stopped it. Someone beat the shit out of him and shot him and threw him in the fuckin' water and I was off getting laid!"

Winston stayed silent for a few moments, gazing at the scenery as it whipped by. If his outburst or speeding bothered him, Monty couldn't tell. He seemed surprisingly unruffled by his rage. After more time passed Monty's resolve and anger subsided, having nothing to feed off of. He took a deep, tremulous breath.

"I'm sorry." He muttered, "I don't blame you. It wasn't your fault I wasn't there for him. It's mine-"

"Monty, don't blame yourself for this either." Winston cut him off. "There was nothing you could have done. You couldn't have known that would have happened and if you had tried to stop it they very likely would have killed you too. It would have taken someone incredibly dangerous to have done this. I didn't know Bryce very well, but he wouldn't have gone down without a fight."

Monty flinched, gripping the steering wheel tightly with one hand and his other hand trembled in Winston's. He drew in a shivering breath and shook his head, his brows furrowing deeply.

"If I had died too so be it. I should have been there, protecting him. I always protected him... he died alone."

His lip quivered as his eyes welled with tears once more. He wanted to punch himself in his own god damned face. He blinked rapidly, pushing his emotions back down and swallowed hard, flipping his turn signal on.

"That's not a road?" Winston said in confusion.

"That's the point." Monty said, his words catching when the Jeep thumped in and out of a rut jerking both boys around inside.

"I've never done this before." Winston said with a small laugh, "Gone off roading."

"What?! Are you fucking kidding me?!" Monty shook his head, putting the Jeep into 4x4 and glancing at the other boy. "Rich kids." He muttered incredulously. Winston shrugged and flopped around, his shoulder bumping into Monty's as the Jeep thrashed from side to side over the uneven ground. He laughed helplessly, shaking his head. He was knocked backwards as the SUV lurched upwards and then once again bumped into Monty and then the side of the door as it landed roughly, the suspension audibly creaking.

"Jesus can this thing even handle this?!" Winston wondered.

"It was built for this." Monty chuckled, easily matching his body's movements with the jerking of the Jeep, "How about you, pretty boy, can you handle it?" He almost purred, quirking an eyebrow teasingly. Winston shot him a half exasperated dirty look and shifted his weight surreptitiously and then he smirked, meeting the other boy's challenge.

"I think we both know I like being tossed around a little."

Monty responded by gunning the SUV over a ditch in the dirt road, and Winston grabbed the handle over his head to maintain his balance and ride out the bucking of the vehicle. The two shared a look and Monty grinned devilishly. He pressed the accelerator down slowly and evenly, the Jeep's tires kicking up sand that billowed around them like an angry cloud. He adjusted the steering wheel and pulled the SUV into a tight turn, the force tossing Winston to one side as he held the tires in a rotation. He sped up as the Jeep spun in a circle, the sand flying around them like debris in an explosion. The lights of the city and the moon over the ocean melted together, becoming a ribbon of colours swirling dizzyingly around them.

Monty wasn't watching where the Jeep was going, he didn't have to. He had perfect control of the vehicle's movements, he had done this countless times with the guys. He was watching Winston, couldn't take his eyes off of him if he had even tried. He watched the way his chest moved when he breathed, the way his expressions changed and the way his eyes were just so damned alive. Monty loved the way he would laugh or yelp, and knew exactly how to get each reaction. The thrill of it made his face feel flushed, his blood pounding for an altogether different reason. He bit his lip and closed his eyes for a moment before pulling the Jeep out of the doughnut turn and slamming on the brakes. Winston let out a little shriek as he was once again tossed from side to side, and then also back and forth with his long legs tangling like a clumsy giraffe.

"If I knew it was that easy to make you scream I would have done this a long time ago." Monty laughed, cutting the engine and smirking at Winston, his heart fluttering in his chest. Winston glanced at him through the dark lengths of his eyelashes and moistened his lips. His cheeks were flushed and his breathing was a little ragged after being thrashed around like a rag-doll mercilessly for the last god-only-knows how long.

"I could think of a few other ways you could make me scream." He said breathily. 

Monty yanked his seat belt off and practically dove at him, his hands grabbing the other boy's wavy hair as their lips crashed together. Monty had one leg on his centre console, the other was in between Winston's legs. Winston's fingertips dug into his back as he kissed back, his bruising lips meeting Monty's furious hunger with a relishing eagerness. Monty kissed him and pawed at him like he wanted to devour him and Winston's hands flew to his pants and popped the button with ease and unzipped them, running his hand over the other boy's obvious erection. He wanted to be devoured, consumed, destroyed. Monty gasped and made a soft, strangled sound as he broke their kiss.

"Fucking hell." He hissed grinding his hips into Winston's hand, "I want you." he added, his voice catching. And I shouldn't, he thought, I can't... this is going to be the death of me.

Winston laughed lowly, continuing to run his hand up and down Monty's rock hard length. He kissed him again, biting his bottom lip lightly as he pulled away.

"Take me home." He said flatly, his hand still rubbing Monty's achingly hard cock. 

Monty blinked rapidly, his train of thought thrashing around not unlike Winston was being thrashed around moments ago.

"W...what?" He stuttered, gasping quietly and suppressing a moan with limited success.

"Take me home, Montgomery," Winston said, staring into Monty's eyes as he massaged his balls, "And fuck me properly."

"I don't think I can drive like this." Monty groaned as Winston's hand slipped away, tucking his throbbing cock back into his pants and zipping them back up with some difficulty.

"You're going to." Winston smirked, kissing him deeply and then pushing him away as he adjusted his own bulge in his pants.

Monty swallowed and looked at the lawyer before him. He had declined the legal aide appointed by the court, and he had assumed it was left at that. That he'd be deemed guilty and just rot or die where he fucking belonged.

"I didn't kill Bryce." He said coldly.

"I am aware. We've been contacted by someone who has compelling evidence for your innocence."

"Charlie?" Monty asked, meeting her eyes carefully. He already knew the answer to that question he realized with sickening dread.

"No, Charlie went to the police shortly after you were apprehended and confessed to lying to them to cover for you and that he had no idea of your true whereabouts that night. A boy named Winston Williams... contacted us seeking legal aide on your behalf," The lawyer said, reaching for one of the folders. "He can place you at his house at the time of the murder. He said you made some texts and the cell phone towers would be able to confirm your location which would be quite far from the location where Bryce was killed. He also has an article of your clothing that would possibly be useful, if people can confirm you wore it that night and haven't since."

Monty swallowed hard  against the lump in his throat, willing his face to remain stagnant and leaned back, shaking his head. The betrayal by Charlie stung like the weight of a sword to the hilt of his spine. And then there was the Winston of it all.

"He just doesn't fucking give up, does he?" He muttered with an agonized hitch in his voice despite his best efforts.

"I mean, if I knew someone was innocent of a crime, I would want to speak out."

"Did he tell you I beat the shit out of him the night we met and I called him a fucking faggot?" Monty lashed out, he would have crossed his arms but his shackles prevented him from doing it so he just squared his shoulders and jaw and stared coldly at the woman in front of him who only wanted to help him. But he didn't want her fucking help, or Winston's for that matter.

The woman held his gaze, completely unfazed by his demeanor.

"He did, in fact, tell me that." She said with a quirked eyebrow. Monty was taken aback but tried to do his best not to let that show.

"So why the fuck would he want to help me." He said hollowly. The lawyer shrugged.

"Does that really matter? You're looking at life in jail or worse, right now with these charges."

"Maybe I fuckin' deserve it." Monty said, tilting his head challengingly.

"Maybe you do." She agreed calmly. "But I don't think you do. I think that's an easy way out. I think you're fucking giving up, throwing it away because its easier than facing the person you are and the problems you have. Its easier than admitting your life isn't going where you wanted it to, and that you regret the things you've done." 

She tossed a file in his direction.

"I think life has been unreasonably hard on you, Montgomery, and I think the people and systems that were supposed to protect you and keep you safe didn't. I think you had a violent upbringing, and that you survived for a long time by yourself. I think the fact that you'd rather go to jail for a crime you didn't commit than willingly admit out loud that you spent the night with a boy who's only crime was maybe to love you enough to want to save you is cowardly. I think you feel like you don't deserve his concern, or his love for that matter, so you're running scared from that too. I think you've been scared for your whole life. And I think its time you fucking let that go. Because the people who've helped you become the young man standing before me would love to see you sitting here wallowing in your self pity. They'd love to see you disappear like another fucking statistic. I would like to think that someone who has survived as long as you have, someone who's fought as hard as you have would take all that anger and tell them to fuck themselves and build a real life for himself, and be fucking happy to spite them, in spite of them."

Monty felt his pulse tick in his neck and looked away before fixing her with a glare. That hit a nerve.

"I think you fucking think too much." He snarked, and smirked with a cocky lift of his eyebrow. "What would you know about it anyway."

She smiled calmly, and met his arrogance with her own ego.

"I had a bad childhood." She said flatly, not knowing she was using his own words against him, "I did eight years in federal for armed carjacking."

Monty sat there numbly, dumbfounded for a moment.

"And they let you be a lawyer?" He asked incredulously, "That explains a lot..."

"It wasn't easy, Montgomery, it took me almost twelve years after my sentence to even begin rebuilding my life. They said I would never amount to more than my crime. But I fucking did it and they can suck my dick." She began to collect the folders he hadn't even looked at yet, leaving one in front of him as she stood up.

"You're a lawyer, you're not supposed to talk like that." He mumbled, feeling panic flutter in his chest as his lifeline was packing up and leaving and it was all his own fault for pushing her away.

"Not in front of a judge anyway." She countered, snapping her briefcase shut. 

"Think about what I said. I won't close your case yet, but don't waste anymore of my fucking time. Keep that, and read it." She warned as she walked away. She opened the door where the guard was waiting and he heard the sound of his boots as he came to fetch him.

His mind was reeling, spinning out of control as he shuffled behind the C.O. awkwardly holding his file.

"You have some mail." The C.O. said offhandedly. Monty blinked, wondering what it was. Was it a court summons? Was it Winston? Was it his family..? They stopped at the doors and the man uncuffed him around the wrists and ankles. 

He handed Monty the letter, his expression unreadable.

"It came in awhile ago...but sometimes things here get lost on purpose."

"Why are you being nice to me?" Monty asked, suspicious as he took the letter.

"You're a human being. And I'd like to believe we can help people in here... sometimes."

"You must be new." Monty sighed. He walked back to his cell without a backwards glance. None of the other three inmates he shared a cell had returned yet, they must be at lunch. Monty's stomach growled insistently but he ripped open the letter instead, wanting the privacy to absorb the blow that was about to come. The paper was a file printed from the jails website, someone was requesting the right to visit him and it required his approval or denial.

Charles St. George.

#montgomery de la cruz #monty de la cruz #monty x winston #winston x monty #winston williams #13rw fanfiction #13rw #wonty

[starshinewriter]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dewey Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck, Louie Duck & Scrooge McDuck Characters: Louie Duck, Huey Duck, Dewey Duck, Scrooge McDuck, Doofus Drake (mentioned) Additional Tags: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brotherly Love, Protective Older Brothers, doofus is the worst, scrooge used to be as well but hes working on it, Episode: s03e21 The Life and Crimes of Scrooge McDuck! Series: Part 10 of Set After Summary:

Louie apologized to Doofus, he isn't sure how to feel about it. (Spoiler alert, he's very sure.)

Notes: 

yes im aware this is another louie-centric story and yes im also aware that i still have to finish the final chapter of AMOM.... that's all i got.

hope you enjoy!

Alternative to Ao3:

The first thing Louie does when he gets home is go up to his room, he thinks his Uncle has some idea of how worn out he is cause he doesn't say anything against it. He knows that he'll have the room to himself since his brothers are still occupied with the gribbles and honestly that relieves him a bit, as bad as that makes him feel he needs to be alone right now. There's also the thing of them knowing whenever something is wrong the moment they see him and will ask questions that he isn't ready to answer yet.

He throws himself on his bed and does everything he can not to think about the day's events but fails almost instantly. So he tries to think about everything except the part that bothered him the most. He fails at that too.

He apologized to Doofus Drake, that was something that he did. And he's supposed to feel happy about it, apologizing is a good thing, but all he feels is everything he always feels with Doofus: dread, terror, the overwhelming desire to get as far away from him as he possibly can- which is about as opposite from good as you can get. He doesn't get it, why doesn't he feel better about this? Why does he feel like he just made a huge mistake? Sure, Doofus is Doofus, but he had gotten him off of his back, which had been his whole goal, he should feel good right now, but all he feels is trepidation.

Trauma, Huey would call it.

All he knows is that he wants it to go away and he doesn't know how to make it, and that might be scarier than actually being scared. What if it never goes away? What if he always feels like he can't let his guard down, ever? What kind of life is that? He buries himself in his blankets and that's where he stays, alone, until the door opens and voices that are talking about something he can't hear pause when they see him. He can practically feel them look at each other and carefully step to the bed.

"Hey, Lou." One of them -Dewey- says. "Whatcha up to?" He doesn't say anything. They look at each other once more. He feels the bed move a moment later- once, twice, and then he's surrounded by the comforting presence only his brothers can give. He stays in the blankets.

"What happened today? Uncle Scrooge gave us a summary but it was mostly about him and what he went through."

"Doofus Drake was there." Is all he says, but it's more than enough, in less than a second arms are encompassing the blankets and grabbing him in a hug. They know what a trigger Doofus is for him.

Huey places his head near where he knows Louie's is, "Do you wanna talk about it?" He feels his head shake and fights back the urge to sigh, of course he doesn't, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't. "We won't force you, but it might help you get your thoughts in order."

"I apologized to him." His brothers share a glance,

"Why?"

Louie shifts in the blankets, his brothers move to make him more comfortable. "To get him to leave me alone, mostly, and drop the case. But I dunno, Uncle Scrooge was apologizing for what he did, so I thought I had to too."

Dewey looks at him with confusion, "But you didn't do anything, not anything that he didn't deserve. Why apologize for that?"

"It felt like the right thing to do."

"Was it?" Louie is silent for a few minutes, that's what's worrying him, what if in making the right decision for the case he made the wrong one for himself?

"I don't know." He finally answers. "I just know I wanted Scrooge and me to be able to go home and I didn't want to have a sworn enemy my whole life."

Huey holds him tighter, "Louie, your relationship with him is not the same as Uncle Scrooge's relationships with his enemies. You're terrified of him! You can't be around him or even think about him without freaking out! He trapped you in his house, he tried to have you killed, he's not your enemy, he's an abuser!" The room falls silent after that and it stays that way until sniffles start to come from the blanket pile.

"I didn't want to do it," Louie admits. "I just did what I thought I had to. But now, now I'm so scared." He breaks into sobs and his brothers quickly pull him out of the blanket and into a hug. "It's not fair, why did I have to be the one to do it?! Why does he get to get away with everything?!" Dewey starts rubbing his back which makes him calm down a bit.

"All I can say is he better hope he doesn't run into us."

"Agreed." Huey replies; Louie lets out a small laugh, yeah he better, but Louie wouldn't feel sorry for him if he did.

____________________________________________________________

His Uncle finds him in the kitchen later and nods at him as he goes to get something from the fridge. "Are you feeling better, lad?" He asks as he sets up a kettle on the stove.

"No." Louie says honestly.

"Ae thought that might be the case." He pours tea into the kettle. "Ae know apologizin' fer somethin' is hard, especially ta someane like that, but sometimes it's just somethin' yew have ta do."

"... What if I made a mistake?" Louie responds without looking at him and his Uncle sighs.

"The only ane that can tell ye that is yew, do yew feel like ye made a mistake?" Louie hesitates before nodding. Scrooge hums, "Necessary evil it's called, sometimes its the only thing we can do. Doesnae make it right, or fair, but look at the positive: at least he'll leave ye alone now."

Louie doesn't say anything to that. Was that positive big enough to negate the negatives? "I wish I didn't." He admits all of a sudden. "Does that make me a bad person?"

His Uncle looks at him sternly, "Louie Duck, you are ane o' the best people ae know. Ye constantly make me want ta be better, and ae know ye do fer the rest o' this family as well. All o' yew kids do. Ae know this situation is awful but ae'm proud o' yew fer being the bigger person, if that counts fer anythin'." Louie nods, it does, it counts for a lot actually.

"Huey said I shouldn't have had to do it, that my relationship with Doofus was different than your's with your enemies. Worse. And that he didn't deserve an apology. I agree with him and I hate that I did it. It didn't make me feel any better, didn't lift any weight off of me, it just made me feel worse. And you know what the worst part is? That I keep thinking that I made him like this, that if I hadn't of gone to see him on Only Child Day he wouldn't be like this, how messed up is that?"  

Scrooge turns back to the stove and removes the kettle then pours himself a cup of tea, "The lad was right, my relationships are nae that the same as yers, and it'll do yew no good ta compare them. Ae'll be honest- that child deserves a lot o' things, but an apology is nae ane o' them. Ae'm sorry yew were forced inta that position, yew should never do things cause someane else is or because it seems like the right thing ta do." He sighs. "It was a sticky situation, and ane ye really shouldnae have been involved in, ae dinnae need Donald yellin' at me ta know that's true." He says with a wry grin. "Ae'm glad yew were there though, ye were a great help." He adds, more sincerely.

Louie beams, "Maybe I should be a lawyer."

Scrooge chuckles, "Maybe." He looks at Louie, "Somethin' ae realized today was that while ae had a hand in creating my enemies and them me, ae ultimately made myself. Anyane can go on and on aboot apologizin' and holdin' people accountable, but at the end o' the day our own actions are the only anes we're responsible fer. Yew didnae make Doofus what he is, he made himself like that."

"That makes sense. Thanks, Uncle Scrooge." Maybe now he can feel better about this situation, between his brothers and his Uncle he's coming out with a much clearer view than before.

"And speakin' o' holdin' people accountable..." Louie looks at him with interest. "Ae'm thinkin' Doofus' parents and ae need ta have a little chat aboot his behavior. He cannae make yew as upset as ye get every time yew run inta him and get away with it." Louie grins at him, okay, now he can really feel better about this whole thing. It won't be right away, but he knows now that it is possible. He'll probably be scared of Doofus his whole life, and will never, ever, be near him again, but he won't always be a source of trauma for him and that's probably the best outcome.

And this point, he'll take whatever he can get.

#ducktales 2017 #the life and crimes of scrooge mcduck #louie duck 2017 #huey dewey and louie 2017 #scrooge and louie 2017

[bibibuckleyy]

‘Pinned’ liveblog

there are def spoilers ahead so don’t read if you haven’t seen the episode yet! also this is definitely not gonna make sense if you haven’t seen the episode and it’s very long so i’m sorry in advance

i wanna go to this bowling alley

i agree garett is a damn treasure look at that boi

he’s totally boyfriend manager material

yes buck you are a genuis 

“technically it would be an exoskeleton”

LET HIM ENJOY THE WIN

“NO REFUNDS”

ayeeee my son garett gettin his coin go be manager 👏🏽

“JESSE, YOU’RE FIRED” LMAOOOOOO

so apparently green tea fights brain tumors

so let me tall y’all bout my good friend MICHAEL

he’s got a brain tumor and he is scarin the shit out the whole fandom

and hey instead of gettin the SURGERY

THIS BITCH IS GOIN CAMPING

i don’t think he understands that he cannot fucking die 

athena and may are literally me

they both like ‘wtf why is he goin camping he has a damn brain tumor’

and the fandom like ‘bitch same T-T’

no pressure bobby but MICHAEL’S LIFE IS IN YOUR HANDS

michael bby i don’t know why your doctor cleared you for this

like ‘hey, you have a life-threatening tumor but whatev’s YOLO lmao go camping dude hopefully you don’t progressively get worse while you are there lol lol’

spoiler alert: he gets worse

me and his doc bout to throw hands

if athena and may don’t get him first

“assuming there is a next year”

well f u c k.

that’s a 2020 mood tho fr fr 

athena pls knock some sense into michael you have my blessing girlie

congrats may on gettin into USC!

*casually googles USC*

WOW ALBERT

i dunno what i expected

but it was not...that

throw the whole room away chim

”technically he doesn’t even have a room” DAMN CHIM THE SHADE

things just ‘ignited’ huh?

well that was awkward

EXCUSE YOU ALBERT IN THIS HOUSEHOLD WE DO NOT QUESTION MADNEY

“she’s a good friend to you” with that little sip after DAMN ALBERT I CACKLED

Chim bby you look exhausted lmao

omg wAIT I LOVE THE TREE PLANTING TRADITION

IT’S SO NOBLE

“Plant it, let it grow, and stay out if it’s way!”

i love that they are including bobby in this

michael? michael what’s wrong with your hands buddy

THAT’S IT THIS TRIP IS CANCELLED SIRI TAKE US TO THE NEAREST HOSPITAL

“ah, the dreaded c-word”

hi hello yes i only accept relationship advice if it comes from hen or athena

awkward shoulder laugh?? ok buddie eddie

“tommorow isn’t promised to anyone, so if you love her, tell her”

*still doesn’t tell buck how he feels*

i love athena and may’s bond 

it’s real like yea they have problems and disagreements but theye still love eachother

i like that they don’t agree all the time about everything

“we still have time” UH YEA BITCH WE BETTER

michael you are hi key scaring me now

stop stop stop you guys need to go to the hospital

bobby and harry are the duo we didn’t know we needed 

ok listen

i really hated this emergency

like just do your dishes bitch

your house is already remodeled

i mean like it was still a good rescue

but i was kind of an eyeroll

he really shot himself with a nail gun

bruh

“i didn’t say i love you back to my daughter”

aii so he’s not as thick headed as i thought

wowzers that’s a lot of blood comign out of his chest

i literally chose the worst moment to make food

i‘m seasoned 9-1-1 vet tho so i’m used to it lmao

 EDDIE WAIT ARE YOU ASKING BUCK OUT 

WAIT IT WAS SO CASUAL THO

IT’S LIKE

THEY DO THIS OFTEN

ANA FLORES WHO

(ok ok i like Ms. Flores but i am a buddie stan first and foremost)

wow i didn’t expect that when they opened the back of the ambulance

lord have mercy this dudes blood is everywhere

me too buck, me too

i mean like i would lose my appetite but like,,, this popcorn is good yo

“where are you going?”

“to ask your sister out on a date so i can tell her i love her”

YES CHIM GO GET HER 

*chants* MANDEY! MADNEY! MADNEY!

uh oh michael and bobby are bout to fiiight

“i’m fine”

“no michael, you’re not, and i think it’s time we all started admitting that”

FUCKING THANK YOU BOBBY 

IT’S NOT ALL OK DAMNIT

“you think you are hiding it but he sees it”

YEA SO DO WE AND I THINK I SPEAK FOR EVERYONE WHEN I SAY I DON’T LIKE IT

“to learn!”

“to learn what?”

“how to be a family when i’m gone”

.........

i hate everyone 

my heart didn’t deserve to break like that

JOSHHHHHHH

HI BBY

there are still bruises on his face :(

i’m still mad about his date

FUCK YOU GREG 

maddie dear chimney is not breaking up with you lmao

poor josh bro sunshine bby didn’t deserve it

i love athena and hen’s dynamic like just GOALS

“this thing with michael is looming over us constantly”

truer words have never been spoken 

i want to go to a revolving restaurant

it looked so cool

this is gonna sound weird byut maddie not saying i love you was just even better than her saying it back

she expressed it in her own way

(still fuck you doug) 

“i love you maddie, and as long as i know you feel the same, i can say it enough for the both of us”

WHAT DID THIS WORLD DO TO DESERVE THIS MAN 

WHOLESOME SO DAMN WGOLESOME

oh hey this dude is gonna propose

foreshadowing??

this dude really dropped the box

lmao why he look so nervous

i thought when she grabbed the box her hand was gonna get caught in the revolver thing

“the answer is-”

MY JAW HIT THE FLOOR

OH MY GOD

FUCKING EARRINGS 

LORD NOOOOOOOOOO LMAOOOOOO

the way maddie went “oh boy” honestly same here we go

“five years together and you bring me up here for earrings?”

“it’s your birthday”

“yea, next week”

The dude that turned around right after he said that was me

like i just,,,,

fucking earrings AHAHAHAAAAAAAA

homegirl really chose the worst moment to stand up

i take it back i don’t want to go to one of those restaurants 

wowwwww madney really being a dynamic duo in a crisis

and i am here for it!

they saved homegirl’s life

AND GOT A FREE HOTEL ROOM FOR ITTTTTT

I LITERALLY CANNOT TAKE ANY MORE MICHAEL ANGST

two bros, chillin by the camp fire, and i’m freakin out cause one of them’s gonna die

“i wanna see him grow up, and i don’t know if i will”

9-1-1 writers turn on your location i just wanna talk-

“i need you to keep me and my father alive for him” 

thanks i hate it

candlelit breakfast is then new thing pass it on

“took maddie out to talk and things...ignited”

 CHIMNEY YOU SMUG BASTARD

“hey handsome”

*points* there! there’s the exact moment my heart stopped

HELL NAH GET THIS DUDE AWAY FROM JOSH IMMEDEATLY

rest in power to josh’s mug

OH

OH SHIT

HE HAS A GUN

HE HAS A FUCKIN GUN

“i love you howie”

.....

bitch i didn’t order this take it back

no no no no nO NOOOOOOOOOOO

so i honestly forgot abou the whoe ‘hostage situation thing’

I WASN’T EXPECTING THIS

CAN JOSH GET A DAMN BREAK PLEASE

josh looks so scared awwwww NOOOOOO

“do not move, or you will be shot”

bitch nO

UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

somebody call buck he’ll know what to do

so.... this has been my “Pinned” liveblog! i’m sorry it was super long and there was like no capitalization anywhere lmao. i actually enjoyed this so hit up my askbox if you want me to liveblog another episode!

#911 fox #madney #buddie #i am freakin out #hopefully ths doesn't FLOP #chimney han #evan buckley #eddie diaz #bobby nash #athena grant #hen wilson