#I'm excited for my first time trying a month like this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hanni-bae44 · 13 hours

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Title: Nothing Like Us (Wooyoung)

Pairing- Wooyoung x fem!reader

Genre- friends to lovers-ish; angst, fluff (warnings: mentions of cancer, character death & cursing)

Word Count- 8.9k

Summary- The Wooyoung you knew would never give up. He'd rather break his arm trying to win to San at arm wrestle then give up. But times have changed. And so has your best friend. He had lost his strength and his time was running out. Nothing was okay anymore but maybe for each other, you and him could just pretend.

“One month until summer break, are you excited?” you asked Wooyoung as you guys walked out of your shared lecture. The moment you stepped out of the business building, the sun shined in your eyes and the humidity poked at your skin. It was way too hot to be walking around campus so leisurely.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung said as he stared solemnly at the concrete sidewalk in front. He then pulled down his beanie to cover more of his forehead.

“You don’t seem that excited." You nudged his shoulder with a smile.

“I am. I’m just tired today.”

You stared at him, examining how the sun made his features more prominent. There was a hollowness in his cheeks and the bags under his eyes that stuck out. You’ve noticed how sharp his jawline had become too but you didn’t think much of it. His face used to be so full of life but now it was just dull. It was probably the stress. After all, finals were coming up.

“You’re always tired,” you sighed. “I’m telling you it’s because all you wear these days is hoodies and pants. I swear you’re going to faint one day from the heat. I can’t even stand it and I’m in shorts and a tank top. It’s amazing how you’re holding up.” When he didn’t respond with his usual snarky comebacks, you asked, “what’s up with you these days Wooyoung? You’re so off these days. Is something wrong?”

“Everything’s fine,” he insisted but you weren’t convinced.

When you both arrived at the dining hall, you and Wooyoung both got your trays. You began to eat first while raving to Wooyoung about all the things you planned to do when summer comes. He didn't seem too enthusiastic despite having loved summer.

It seemed like you were the only one hungry too. Wooyoung barely touched his food despite how he’d normally be starving by this hour. He insisted he didn’t have an appetite and you were genuinely worried.

“Why did you even come here if you’re not hungry? You’re wasting your money,” you nagged.

“Well you wanted food and I can’t get in without swiping my balance.”

You stifled a scoff then shoved another spoon of mac and cheese in your mouth.

The rest of your friends joined for lunch eventually. Light chatter filled your table as Yunho ranted about how San sucked in Valorant. Yeosang and Jongho even got into a small fight arguing over whose fault it really was that their hair dryer stopped working. Everyone was in a good mood for the most part.

Everyone except Wooyoung.

"Are you sure you're okay?" you asked Wooyoung again after noticing how he kept putting his head down. "Did you stay up gaming all night again or something?"

"I'm fine. You've already asked that like 5 times this morning. My answer isn't going to change the sixth time," he blurted out with his brows pulled together, causing you to frown.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. He was always so moody these days. A trait uncharacteristic of him.

"Don't mind him, he's just cranky because he got a zero on the math homework he forgot to do. His grade went down a whole letter," San spoke up, attempting to comfort you while side glaring Wooyoung.

You didn't reply, instead choosing to make conversation with Seonghwa who would never go off on you. You left Wooyoung alone for the rest of lunch. You weren't mad per se but you just didn't want to talk to him anymore. At least for today.

You wished you could say Wooyoung’s odd behaviors stopped there but it didn’t.

He continued to act unusual for the following weeks. Usually he was always full of energy, always the one to talk first, be the loudest in the room, but he barely talked these days unless spoken to first. He started to skip class again too and napped all the time. Overall, he became more irritable and reserved. He was morphing into a Wooyoung you didn’t even recognize anymore.

Regardless, you looked past his new and off behaviors. Everyone had their unusual traits when stressed.

The spring semester had just ended last week and San opened the door for you so you could enter into his shared apartment with Wooyoung.

Since Wooyoung’s parents' house was a block down from your parent’s house, it just made sense to take the trip back home together. You were the driver this time and all your luggage was already in the car. You were ready to go, only waiting for Wooyoung now.

Wooyoung was still packing in his room according to San so you decided to pay him a visit.

You had forgotten to knock (since you were so used to just barging in) that you walked in on Wooyoung slipping over a tank top. You couldn’t stop yourself from gawking at how skinny he had gotten. He was all skin and bones at this point, the slight muscle he had worked on so hard for last summer all gone.

When Wooyoung noticed you at his doorstep, he grabbed his oversized sweatshirt and slipped it on before grumbling, “you should have knocked.”

Although true, you didn't apologize. “Did you finish packing?” you asked in response as you glanced around his messy room. For someone who was barely in his room due to all his participation in student organizations on campus, he sure made a mess of it.

“Does it look like I finished?” At the sound of his grumpy tone, you grimaced. “Sorry,” he caught himself, rubbing at his temples. “I didn’t mean to say it like that. Just give me a bit. I overslept earlier.”

You nodded then sat on the edge of his bed. You scrolled on your phone while engaging in light conversation with him to pass time. You expressed how much you missed his little brother and he smiled at that, assuring you that Kyungmin had missed you too.

The day you guys arrived back home, you both got settled in and rested, not meeting again for two days.

“I can’t believe it’s finally summer break. This semester was so stressful,” you ranted beside Wooyoung as he scrolled mindlessly on his phone. The both of you were currently in his childhood bedroom, hanging out. Even though Wooyoung didn't seem to care at what you had to say, you continued to ramble about your major.

After a while, Wooyoung finally spoke up rather than just giving the occasional nods and hums. “I have to tell you something,” he began as he sat up, now leaning against the wall. The way he looked at you was so intense. You studied his face, and took notice of the way his breathing grew heavy. He seemed nervous and hesitant. “I’m not going back to school,” he finally said.

You jumped up from your laid position. Your brows furrowed. “You’re taking a semester off?”

“No. I dropped out.”

“What. Why?”

“There’s just no point in going back to school.” The moment those words left his mouth, you scanned his room for a hidden camera but didn't see any amongst the mess of his bedroom. You even waited for him to say that this was a prank or something but that moment never came.

“You’re joking, Wooyoung. Say you’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why? You can’t just say you’re dropping out and not tell me why. Do your parents know?”

“Yes. And before you ask, they accept my decision.”

“Bullshit. You’re throwing your whole life away, Wooyoung. I thought you liked university. The student life, the student organizations, the dance club… You’re really just going to drop out? What will you do with your life now? What kind of role model will you be to Kyungmin if you just give up on your future right now?”

“Life doesn’t revolve around university, Y/N,” he said sternly, a hint of dejection in his voice.

“Obviously not, but you worked so hard. You only have two years left and you’re just going to give it all up now? Just tell me why so I can understand why you’re being so impulsive like this. I just don’t get why-“

“It’s because I have leukemia, alright!? That's why.” His voice wavered at the end. “I have no future.”

You fell silent as you met his dull eyes. The ones that used to have so much spark and life in them when he saw a cute baby at a Target. The ones that lit up when he won a dumb game to Yunho. The ones that lit up when he got the chance to tease you. Now those same eyes were telling you that he had leukemia.

“You have a lot of cruel jokes today Wooyoung," you trailed off.

It wasn't until he pulled his beanie off and grabbed at the few strands of hair that fell out that you realized he probably wasn’t joking. And reality crashed down fast.

“Why do you think I always wear this beanie? I'm going bald," he smiled weakly. "Also don’t be mad but I’ve known for a month. I wanted to tell you when I found out, but I never found the right time and then I kept putting it off. Even today, I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Your heart was beating loudly against your chest as a tear rolled down your cheek. You were about to take a pillow and throw it at him but when you realized it would actually hurt him now, you refrained. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me when you knew.” You let out an airy scoff as you let the fact that your best friend— the guy you’ve known your whole life— had cancer sink in. “Do all our friends know?”

“Just you and San.” He then began to tell you more about his Acute Myeloid Leukemia diagnosis and how fast it deteriorated his health. “After thinking about it, I decided not to get treatment,” he admitted with a sigh. “The doctors said I have about three months left to live without chemotherapy. One month down so far, two months left. And that's if I'm lucky.” A tight-lipped smile played on his lips while he raised his brows.

“You’re kidding. You’re not getting treatment?”

“It’s too expensive.”

“So? We can fundraise! I can have everyone in the student association hold a-”

“Listen.” Wooyoung sighed. He reached for your hands, his palm cold against yours. “The odds of me living past this summer are low with how quickly the cancer has spread. I don’t want to drain my parent’s bank account when I’m just going to die anyway.”

“Shut up,” you said as tears rolled down your cheek. “You’re not.” You refused to hear him say that he was dying. Your best friend Wooyoung would never greet death so easily. He would fight. The Wooyoung you knew would fight for his life. “Remember last fall? You wouldn’t give up arm wrestling to San even though your wrist was in pain yet you’re just going to give up on your life just like that?”

“That’s not the same shit and you know that.”

“Still! You can’t just do nothing.”

“I can and I will. It’s my decision.”

You sniffled then pulled your hand away. “You’re a lot of things Wooyoung, but I never saw you as a quitter.”

“I’m dying,” he reminded you and you hated how calm he was. It was as if he had already accepted his fate, just sitting around now, waiting to die.

“Don’t say that,” you said as you wiped your tears.

His expression was still. “Why not? It’s the truth.”

“I can’t with you right now. You know what? I’m leaving. And when I come over tomorrow, you’ll tell me that this was just a dumb hidden camera prank. This can’t be real,” you shook your head in denial. “This is just some sick joke.” You didn’t give him time to respond before you stormed out of his room and went back to your house.

When you woke up the next day, you still remembered the conversation yesterday vividly and in detail. It wouldn’t be until night fell that you realized this was most likely not a joke. Especially when it came to you why Wooyoung had been acting so off recently.

Throwing on your coat, you were about to head over to Wooyoung’s house when you heard a loud bang at your window. You lived in a one-story house so for a second, you thought you were being robbed but then you saw a rock being thrown at your door, followed by the voice of Wooyoung shouting “open the window, it’s me.”

Immediately, you pulled open your window and Wooyoung crawled in, sticking one leg in first.

“I was just about to go over to your house,” you said as you sat down on the edge of your bed.

“Yeah, right,” he grumbled. “I waited for you all day. I won’t be alive for long so stop ignoring me.”

You frowned. “I wasn't ignoring you.”

He took a seat beside you then fiddled with his hands before taking your hands in between his, forcing you to glance up at him. “Look. I’m not apologizing for not getting treatment but I am sorry I let things end like that yesterday. I don’t like knowing you’re mad at me.”

“Then don’t make me mad," you huffed.

He let out an airy scoff before continuing, “I’m sorry too for the way I’ve been acting the past few weeks too. I just get so tired and angry sometimes, it’s hard to control my tone.”

You didn’t respond to that, trying your hardest to not let the tears fall. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why didn’t you just leave school earlier then? Instead you wasted a whole month of your life at university. Why didn’t you just go back home? Don’t you have things you want to do before you die?”

He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I didn’t waste a month at university. I chose to be there to live out the last of my student life with my friends. Plus, you were there so there was never a wasted moment. San was a lot of help too, driving me to and from the hospital and helping me with everything. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without him.”

“Why didn’t you tell the others? Seonghwa, Hongjoong, Mingi, they all care about you,” you asked, remembering how he said he only told you and San about his diagnosis the other day.

“I don’t want them to make a big deal out of it.”

“Well news flash Wooyoung, you’re dying so it is big news. So what? You’re not going to tell them at all?”

“Yeah, I’m not so please don’t tell them either. I don’t think I can stand seeing the look on their faces if they knew. It’s for the better.”

“How do you think they’ll feel when you’re dead and didn’t even bother to tell them before you passed? They’re our friends.”

“I know. But please. For me, think of it as my dying wish. Just don’t tell anyone else.”

You scoffed at that, taking back your hand. You weren’t sure if you were comfortable keeping such a big secret but you complied anyway. “Fine. But only if you stop joking about dying.”

“I can’t help it. It’s my coping mechanism,” he insisted with a half-hearted smile.

You pursed your lips, not finding his jokes funny at all. “Speaking of wishes. Have you made a bucket list?”

“What? Will you be my Make A Wish foundation?” he asked in a sarcastic tone with wide eyes. “Will you grant my wish to meet Gordon Ramsey?” he pouted.

“Ha ha, if only. But I’m serious. Do you have a bucket list?”

“What’s the point? I can’t do the things I want to do anyway.”

“I'll take that as a no then. It's okay, we can make one together of all the things you want to do and can do.”

It would soon come to your attention that the things Wooyoung wanted to do such as traveling, hiking, zip lining, biking around New York, and swimming with the dolphins all required a lot of energy and endurance which Wooyoung didn’t have much of these days.

So instead, you both decided to just do the little things together. You and him began to prank call your local stores, go for picnics, cook together, and catch up on all the TV shows and movies that you guys missed out on during the school year.

You’d get lost in those little moments with Wooyoung because you’d just be beside each other with no care in the world. It was just like you guys were kids again with responsibilities or worries to stress about. In the end, it didn’t matter what you guys did. As long as you guys did them together, Wooyoung seemed happy.

You and him even decided to go to a carnival that was in town. The both of you loved how the carnival was like a mini amusement park so it was perfect.

The moment you stepped into the carnival, you slipped your hands into Wooyoung’s and led him to a food vendor. You bought a huge soda along with some Fried Oreos and cookie dough. You tried to feed a Fried Oreo to Wooyoung but he refused, calling them disgusting but it never deterred you from enjoying the treats.

After that, you and Wooyoung took a stroll around the carnival, soaking in the ambience and joy of all the families and couples chatting and laughing. You passed by so many rides too but didn’t go on any. Most of the rides were tame but Wooyoung still couldn’t go on them so you didn't ride any either.

“Come on, just go. I know you want to go on that spaceship ride. I’ll wait for you,” Wooyoung insisted.

That spaceship ride was your favorite. It spun around at a fast speed while going up and down vertically and reminded you of your youth. You and him used to ride it together as teens all the time so now that he was encouraging you to ride it alone? It didn't feel right.

“The line is too long,” you insisted, now clutching onto his arm. You tried to pull him to the area where the bottle toss games were but he stood his ground, his feet not moving.

“There’s only 2 families in line. We can wait.”

“It’s fine, I ate too much oily food. All that walking is making me tired too. I’ll just puke it right up.”

He said your name firmly then sighed. “You’re not having any fun. You haven’t rode anything all evening, all you did was eat.”

“I like food,” you shrugged.

He grimaced. “Yeah, you do. But you’re also holding back because of me. I want you to have fun too. How much did you pay for these wristbands again? The least you can do is use it if I can't. You’re wasting your money just standing here next to me.”

“I am having fun. I’ll always have fun when I’m with you Wooyoung,” you assured him with a tender smile. He looked back at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher but you didn't comment on it. “Come on, let’s go look at what stuffed animals they have at those bottle toss games," you insisted as you tugged on his arm again. And this time, his feet finally moved.

When you both got to the tossing game, things weren’t looking too good. You really wanted that big teddy bear the size of your torso but you kept missing the throws.

Wooyoung took a swing at the game too but he sucked as well. You could tell his arm was tired but he kept going despite your pleas. “It’s fine Wooyoung, let’s just go. We already spent so much on this game.”

“No, I can make it, just a few more tries.” When he missed again, he groaned, pulling out his wallet again.

“Wooyoung, I really don’t need it. It’s fine. Save your money.”

“I said I got it,” He grumbled loudly. You were used to his random bursts of anger but it never failed to startle you. You swallowed thickly then sighed. He wouldn’t even give up on this stupid and rigged game yet he’d give up on his own life so easily. As much as you respected his decision, you still couldn’t believe it.

Wooyoung went three more rounds before finally getting a win. He was sweating at this point and you were relieved. He was so happy to hand you the stuffed bear that you couldn’t help but smile too.

You pulled out your phone, asking the guy who stood behind the stand to take a picture of you and Wooyoung. You both smiled for the picture, standing next to each other. His hand was around your shoulder while you held onto the teddy bear he won for you.

Wooyoung then walked over to a trash can to spit out his gum and when he did, the guy behind the stand smiled fondly. “Your boyfriend doesn’t give up does he? I can tell he really cares about you.”

Your mouth went dry. Before you could clarify that you and Wooyoung were just friends, Wooyoung was back so you just said, “thanks” to the man before slipping your hands into Wooyoung’s again.

The sky soon turned completely dark. The only source of light was from the colorful neon LED lights of the rides illuminating the whole carnival.

To end the day, you and Wooyoung both decided to go on the ferris wheel.

You and Wooyoung sat beside each other as the ride made its way up. The air was less congested up there and for a moment, it was just so peaceful. The vibrance and mood of the carnival brought a serene smile to your face. One that made Wooyoung smile too.

You pulled out your phone again to take a picture of Wooyoung admiring the scenery below. His side profile was always so breathtaking. He was always so handsome to you, and he still was. Reality dawned on you again as you realized this was probably the last time you would ride a ferris wheel with him.

You began to realize that tomorrow isn’t promised, frowning as you continued to stare blankly at him.

“Taking a picture of me so it lasts longer?” he asked with a teasing tone.

“You wish,” you scoffed. You were about to put your phone away when he snatched it from you. He then grabbed your arm to pull your body towards him. You both smiled on cue as he took a couple pictures.

He handed you back your phone then said, “there, now you have something to remember me by.”

You grimaced. “Have you ever considered how I feel when you say those things?”

“What?”

“I don’t want you to die yet all you do is remind me that you’re dying.”

“I don’t want to be reminded that I have cancer yet I feel it every day,” he replied.

You scoffed. “You’re unbelievable.”

He reached for your hand and placed it on his lap, his hands cold to the touch. “I’m sorry I made you upset,” he began softly. “There? Happy?"

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Sure, whatever.”

He brought your hand up to his lips and kissed the back of your hand before intertwining them. His lips were chapped and scratched your skin. “Thanks for doing this with me. Even if we barely got to do anything, I had fun,” Wooyoung said with a genuine smile.

Your eyes widened as you glanced down at your locked hands. It wouldn’t be until he gave them a squeeze that you cleared your throat, finally saying “I had fun too.”

Wooyoung slept even more these days but when he wasn’t and had the energy, he hung out with you.

Your summer was filled with Wooyoung but it still wasn’t enough. Time was moving so fast and all you wanted was just for time to slow down so you could cherish these moments with Wooyoung more. But time didn’t stop for anyone, and certainly not for you.

You were both lying together on his bed, your head on his chest. He occasionally played with your hair while you played with the strings on his hoodie. A romantic comedy played on his TV while you listened to his heartbeat and basked in his warmth. Cuddling was normal between the two of you. He was always an affectionate person so it was all platonic.

After a while, you got bored of the movie. It wasn't bad per se but it definitely wasn't good. Wooyoung even called the movie dumb too but you two finished it anyway just to see why people hyped it up so much.

“Do you have any regrets?” He suddenly asked you, causing you to sit up to get a good look at his face.

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“Name one,” he challenged.

“I regret not spending more time with you,” you answered honestly.

“You spend a lot of time with me already,” he deadpanned but you could tell there was a smile he was suppressing. “I have a lot of regrets,” he began softly. “You know what I regret the most? Not telling this girl that I loved her.” He spoke slowly as his eyes trailed your face. “Do you think I should still tell her even though me and her have no chance?”

You felt a tug at your heart just thinking about him in love with another girl. You hoped he didn’t notice your falter and forced a smile. “You should tell her then. Nothing to lose, am I right?”

“Not exactly. She’s my best friend so I actually have everything to lose.” Wooyoung said, eyes square on your face. Your lips parted as the realization sank in. You were the only girl best friend he had.

“Just to be clear,” you began hesitantly. “Me, right?” You pointed to yourself.

Wooyoung smiled. “Yeah, you dumbass. Who else?”

Your mouth went dry at his confession. You loved Wooyoung too but always suppressed those feelings. You had convinced yourself that he’d never feel the same for so long that now it just felt foreign to hear him admit the opposite. You let out an airy scoff after a few seconds, still in disbelief. “You’re joking.”

“Why do you think everything I say is a joke?”

“You joke a lot.”

“Well I mean it this time.”

You crossed your arms and straightened your back. “Then say it properly.”

He playfully rolled his eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” The moment you said it, a tear rolled down your cheek. “But I hate this Wooyoung… I hate cancer. Out of everyone, why did it have to be you? You were just so healthy a couple months ago.”

“I hate it too,” he said calmly. “But it’s okay. I’m not afraid.”

“You should be. I’m scared, Wooyoung, I don’t want to lose you.” An ugly sob ripped from your throat.

“You’ll never lose me. Even when I’m buried 6 feet under, I’ll always be with you.” He then gestured for you to sit beside him and you did. “I’ve loved you since we were in the first grade. Remember when you asked why none of my relationships ever lasted? It was because I was in love with you. It’s always been you, Y/N. I thought you’d figure it out eventually but I guess you never realized it. Better late than ever though, right?”

“You should’ve got treatment,” you said in response, desperate for anything to help your best friend live.

“There’s just some things in life you have to accept and not fight,” he began. “My cousin’s uncle had cancer, you know. He decided to get treatment then died a few days after the first round. Treatment doesn’t guarantee shit. To this day, my cousin still believes that his uncle could’ve survived another year if he hadn’t got treatment,” he stressed. “No one can run from death.”

You pulled your knees towards your chest to hide your face as tears streamed out.

You hated how unfair the world was. Wooyoung was the most caring and loving person you knew. He often joked a lot, sometimes rubbing people wrong, but he always meant well. After all, teasing people was his way of showing affection. His actions highlighted the type of person he was. He would give a stranger the shirt off his back if he had too. He would risk his life to run into a burning building looking for survivors. He’d do anything to protect the people he loved and the strangers he inhabited this Earth with. So it sucks. It really sucks that nothing on this Earth could protect him back.

He was dying. And you couldn’t do anything to help.

Wooyoung pulled your hands down from your face and sat facing you now. He forced you to look him in the eyes when he cupped your cheek. “Everyone faces death eventually, it just happened that my fate is sooner. But it’ll all be okay.”

“Nothing is okay.” There was a strain in your voice as you continued, “you’re dying, Wooyoung.”

“You’re right. Nothing is okay. But we can pretend, can’t we?” His thumb swiped over your cheek. He swallowed thickly as the silence reverberated from the constraints of his walls. His gaze flickered down to your lips and the next thing you knew his chapped lips were on yours. You could tell he was hesitant so you took the leap and deepened the kiss, holding onto his jaw to do so, but also being careful not to hurt him as well.

You loved him so much it hurt. But love wasn’t enough to fix whatever his own cells were doing to his body. Love wasn’t enough to save him.

When Wooyoung leaned back, he sat criss-crossed again. On his face was a cheeky smile.

“What was that kiss for?” you asked.

“I could ask you the same. You’re the one in love with me,” he gloated, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Hey, you said ‘I loved you first,’” you reminded him.

“That’s true… I also told you when I fell for you. Now it’s your turn. When did you realize you were in love with me then, hm?” he asked but you only scoffed, still taken aback by everything. “Oh come on, you have to tell me. I can’t leave this world without knowing.”

“What happened to pretending everything was okay?” you sighed.

He gave you a tight-lipped smile before placing a hand on your knee to assure you. “Even if I’m not physically beside you, just know that I’ll always be with you, okay? I’ll watch over you and make sure you’re always safe and that you’re happy. So don’t miss me too much. You’ll move on in college and find another guy who can be your best friend or even boyfriend. Someone who actually has the balls to tell you how much they love you. And not just when they’re about to die.”

“No one can replace you, Wooyoung. I don’t even know what I’m going to do this fall when I come back to university and you’re not there anymore.”

“You still have our friends, it’ll be okay. And you’re amazing. I have no doubt you’ll find someone better to be your best friend either.”

You shook your head no. Because there would never be anyone who could live up to the guy you’ve known for your whole life. The guy you’ve loved your whole life.

It was all too sad to think about.

“We could’ve been a good couple,” you managed to say. “But we were too chicken to say anything.”

“I know. But let’s not think about our regrets anymore. Let’s just make the most of what we have now,” Wooyoung said as he began to lie down again, patting the empty space beside him. “Now tell me, when did you fall for me?” he asked again with a cheeky smile.

You told him what he wanted to hear as you laid in bed with his arms wrapped around you. Wooyoung listened to you ramble about how you liked him before drifting off to sleep to the sound of your voice.

The heat radiating from his body was warm but the contact of his skin against yours rang cold. His embrace was comforting but it did nothing to comfort your mind. You hoped to drift off to dreamland quickly since it was the only place where anything was possible. It was the only place where you and Wooyoung could be frolicking at a beach right now in Hawaii before going for a swim with the dolphins. Then you’d both take a shower together and dine at a fancy restaurant. Lastly, you’d both fall asleep in each other’s arms with the happy promise of the future. Graduating college. Maybe even go to grad school. Land your dream jobs. Get married. Have a family even.

But you couldn’t sleep.

Not when the promised future of the real world plagued your head. There was no future for Wooyoung.

You woke up in Wooyoung’s arms. He was already awake and staring at you with fond eyes. A smile stretched across his face. “Good morning, beautiful,” he said, which caused you to scoff. You were sure your hair was a mess, and you probably had crust in your eyes but he still looked at you like you with stars in his eyes. Has he always looked at you this way?

“How long have you been awake?” you asked.

“Just woke up.”

You tried to make the most of the day as you hung out with Wooyoung and his little brother at the dog park.

It was such a beautiful day outside. You took so many pictures of the three of you. You had prepared a picnic too and made all of Wooyoung’s favorite foods since he didn’t have the energy to stand in the kitchen for long.

You all sat on a bench to eat and began to talk about the little things like the new K-Drama that was taking the world by storm. You also talked about how Kyungmin just finished the third grade. And for a minute, everything seemed normal. That you were both just two friends who were back home from college, out at the park to hang with family. But then you looked back at Wooyoung and reality crashed down. He was wearing his favorite beanie to cover his bald head. He had gotten weaker and lost even more weight.

Nothing was normal.

But you tried not to think about it.

The three of you were talking about going to the movies tomorrow to watch an animation Kyungmin wanted to see. He was adorable and all smiles as Wooyoung patted his head and kissed him on the forehead. But then something flashed in his eyes and a tear rolled down his cheek. “I’m going to miss you, hyung,” Kyungmin cried, wiping at his own tears.

Wooyoung cupped Kyungmin’s cheek, forcing him to look him in the eyes. “Aye, why are you crying?” He nagged. “Today is supposed to be a happy day.”

Kyungmin couldn’t hold back his sobs. “I don’t want you to die, hyung.”

“Don’t think about that right now.” Wooyoung pulled him towards his chest. He couldn’t even assure his brother that he wasn’t going to die because he was.

When you all got back to his house later, Wooyoung tucked Kyungmin into bed for a nap.

Then, the both of you went to his room and for the first time ever, Wooyoung cracked. It was as if the past weeks of pretending everything was okay finally cracked the dam. Tears streamed down his face as he sat on the edge of his bed, looking at you. “I just want to be normal again, Y/N. I hate being sick. I don’t want to die. I want to watch Kyungmin grow into an adult and watch him graduate high school. I want to be there when he gets his first crush and eat more meals with him. I want to be there for him but I can’t.”

You pulled Wooyoung into your embrace, your hands running up and down his back to comfort him. Wooyoung sobbed in your arms as he told you about all the things he was looking forward to in life. All the stuff he wanted to experience if he only had time.

“Promise me something?” He asked after a while, and you nodded yes because you’d do anything for Wooyoung if he asked. “When I’m gone. Look after Kyungmin for me. He adores you.”

“Don’t worry, I will,” you assured him. “I adore him too.”

As the days went on, you hung out with Wooyoung when you could. He was running low on energy these days which sucked but you understood he needed to rest. Some days, you’d just lie in the dark with him and snuggle while wearing his hoodie. For a while, everything was as great as it could be.

But then you remembered your friends. And you couldn’t let the thought of your friends go. They would've wanted to see Wooyoung before he passed.

So despite Wooyoung’s wishes, you told your friend group of his fate.

All your friends hung out in your living room while you went to get Wooyoung down the block. The both of you now were walking together back to your house.

The moment you opened the door to your house, all your friends were there with warm smiles. Wooyoung’s eyes widened at the sight of them, not seeming excited to see the people he hung out with 24/7 back at university just last semester. “Did you tell them?” he asked softly as he turned to you.

“Yes. But only because-“

“I told you not to do that.” His voice was calm yet rang out cold.

“I know but they deserve to know, Wooyoung.”

“Actually, I told everyone,” San interjected as he approached Wooyoung. “We all care about you, man. You can’t just leave without saying anything.”

It was only partially the truth, but still. San didn’t want Wooyoung to go off on you again.

Wooyoung pulled his beanie down further to cover his brows (or lack thereof) and fiddled with the sleeves of his hoodie. “So what? You guys planned a pre-funeral?”

“What’s up with you dude?” Yeosang asked after seeing Wooyoung’s lack of enthusiasm. “We’re here to see you because we care. We just thought it’d be nice to have some fun and hang out before, you know,” he trailed off, not wanting to be too blunt.

“Yeah, we just missed you,” Seonghwa added.

“You never respond in the group chat anymore,” Mingi reasoned. “We already knew something was wrong, we would’ve found out eventually anyway. You should’ve said something.”

“Yeah. You should’ve told us.” Hongjoong frowned.

“I can’t believe you knew you were dying and you weren’t going to tell us at all.” Yunho was mad but he tried to suppress it. “Is that really what friends do? Die without telling each other?”

“You’re a terrible friend. It’s as if we mean nothing to you at all,” Jongho said towards Wooyoung, evidently more pissed than the others.

“Don’t say that,” Seonghwa nudged Jongho but the boy wasn’t apologetic.

The tension in the room was thick.

All of your friends were fixated on Wooyoung who was now breathing heavily. He didn’t bother to say anything before turning his heels, and walking out the front door.

You chased after Wooyoung and reached for his hand to get him to halt. When he turned to you, his face was paler than usual.

“I only told them because I care,” you reasoned. “Your friends care about you too so I don’t get why you’re being like this."

He yanked his hand back. “Why can’t you ever respect my decision? First with the treatment and now this. Do you ever consider how I feel?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well obviously not because if you did, you would’ve just let me die peacefully instead of telling everyone my business.”

“I only told your closest friends, Wooyoung. You’re overreacting. They’re hurting just as much. Imagine how they’d feel when they get the invite to your funeral and they didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye because you didn’t feel like telling them you had cancer. Don't be a coward.”

“You don’t get it, do you? I don’t want them to see me like this.” He took off his beanie and heaved, “I’m fucking bald Y/N, I can barely walk for long and I’m always out of breath. Just look at me,” he pulled up his long sleeve to show his arm that was just skin and bones, marked by a few bruises. “Do you really think I want our friends to see me like this? I’m barely that guy they knew anymore.”

“You’re still the same guy, Wooyoung. No one’s judging you.” You stared back at him with glossy eyes.

“I might have cancer but I’m not blind. I see it in everyone’s eyes. They all pity me and look at me like I'm a frail puppy. They all feel bad for me but they just don’t say it. So don’t even bother with that bullshit because they are judging me." He didn’t give you a chance to process his words before storming off.

You didn’t bother to chase after him. He’d get over this eventually. You stood where you were and just watched as he walked farther away from you.

You sighed, about to head back inside your house when your life flashed before your eyes. Wooyoung barely made it past another house before his body dropped to the ground. You ran towards Wooyoung and picked him up him in your arms, shouting for San to call for help.

When Wooyoung regained consciousness, you were all at the hospital. His parents and Kyungmin were there too and explained that he fainted from exhaustion. His mom went in first, then his dad and Kyungmin. You visited him next after. There was a lump in your throat as you made your way down the eerie halls.

The moment you stepped into the room, the air in his room caused you to shiver and it made you wonder if Wooyoung was cold too. The first thing you noticed was how Wooyoung was hooked up to a machine with a needle in his arm. He never looked more weak in his life. The reminder that he had about 3 weeks left of life left (if you were lucky) began to set in again.

“Hey,” Wooyoung began with a half-hearted smile.

“Hi,” you said rather hesitantly. “I thought you left me.”

“Nah, I still have some life left in me,” he joked, causing you to frown.

“I’m sorry, this whole thing is all my fault. I told everyone about your leukemia and that made you stressed which caused you to faint. You were right, I shouldn’t have-“

“It’s okay,” he assured you. “It was mostly because I was dehydrated. Not your fault. Just come here. I want to see you up close.”

You stood beside his bed and he reached for your hand. “You’re cold,” he noted as he felt your arm. “Wear my hoodie, it’s in that bag on the sofa,” he gestured with his head. You looked at him solemnly before going to his bag and grabbing his hoodie to slip on. It was that same gray hoodie he always nagged at you for taking from his closet back at university. The one that was comfortable and soaked up his natural scent well.

“Aren’t you cold too?” you asked.

“I’m fine,” he began. “But I’m sorry for earlier. That fight was dumb. And you were right, I am a coward. So thanks for telling our friends. I just hated seeing everyone look at me as if I’m weak, you know? Even if I am.” His voice came out coarse.

“I’m sorry too. But I really didn’t mean it when I said you were a coward.”

“It’s okay, I am,” he justified.

“No you’re not. And no one thinks you’re weak, Wooyoung. You’re the strongest person out of all of us and everyone out there in the waiting room thinks so too. It’s not easy what you’re going through yet you wake up everyday and choose to make the most of it. You’re the bravest person I know.”

He smiled but it was weak. “Are the guys mad at me?”

“Yeah. But they love you so they’re here anyway.”

For the next week, Wooyoung was ordered to stay at the hospital so they could monitor him.

You visited him every day with Kyungmin when you could. Some days you even slept on the guest sofa, not wanting to leave his side. You didn’t want to have any more regrets, wanting to make sure he knew how much you loved him with the time he had left.

You had just finished updating Wooyoung on how all your friends would be coming to visit him tomorrow at his house. Wooyoung was getting discharged the next day. Everyone was excited, eager to see him.

It was getting late now though so you decided it was time to go back home and sleep in your own bed. After grabbing your bag, you kissed him on the forehead. “I love you,” you assured him with a heartfelt smile, “I’ll come back tomorrow to get you, okay?”

Wooyoung reached for your hand and smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. “I love you too,” he said softly. “You’re the best thing that has ever been mine. Even if we never got the chance to date or become the it-couple on campus. You’re still mine, you got that?”

You nodded, trying your best not to cry. For the past week, you’ve kept it together so well, but when those words left his mouth, your emotions got the best of you. "I can't imagine a world with you gone, Wooyoung."

"Don't cry," he pleaded. "You're ugly when you cry," he said teasingly, which made you laugh as you sniffled.

"You're terrible,” you said through clouded vision.

"And you're beautiful," he said with a genuine smile. "Don't miss me too much when I'm gone, okay? Fall in love with someone else who can actually be there for you but don’t forget me. Whoever your future husband is, he's a lucky man. I don't even know him and I'm jealous of him. But I guess you’ll have to settle though, I doubt anyone you find will be as handsome as me,” he said confidently which made you let out an airy scoff.

"I wish it was you.”

"I know. But you'll find someone better."

"I won't," you shook your head.

"You will."

"I'll always love you.”

"I know. And I'll always love you. Maybe in another life, I'll be healthy and we'll have our happy ending," he said bittersweetly. "Now come on, give me a kiss on the lips," he insisted before puckering his lips.

You giggled before giving him a peck on the lips. Some things never change. Even when he was like this, he was still the same affectionate and needy Wooyoung.

Before you went to bed that night, you realized that Wooyoung was the only constant in your life. You hugged the teddy bear he won for you at the carnival and stared at the ceiling. Through out every age, Wooyoung was always there. He was always the sun on your rainy days. The one who held you when you felt like falling. You got emotional as you reminisced on all the times you could’ve been with him if you only confessed your feelings. But now it was too late.

The only thing you could do now was treasure the moments you did have left.

So that’s exactly what you did.

You made a run to CVS the next morning to print out all the pictures of Wooyoung you took the past year. Some prints were for hanging on your wall while some were for the heart locket you bought at a craft store.

When you got home, you cut the small picture of you and Wooyoung that night at the carnival on top of the ferris wheel and placed it into the heart locket. You couldn’t wait to give the matching heart locket to Wooyoung. Right after you finished making it, you got in your car and started to drive. You were on the way to visit Wooyoung at the hospital when you got a call from Kyungmin. You were on the interstate and had to pull over to the left shoulder when you heard his sobs as he told you Wooyoung passed away.

Your chest tightened.

He was getting discharged today.

His time wasn’t supposed to be up yet.

This wasn’t happening.

But it was.

And there was nothing you could do.

All you did was cry.

You weren’t even going to attend his funeral but San had came to your house and dragged you out of bed.

That same morning, you asked Wooyoung's mother for a favor. To place the heart locket with the picture of you two on his embalmed corpse. She knew how much you loved him, even as kids so she carried out your wish.

As hard as it was for you, you just knew it was 10 times harder for Wooyoung’s mother. She had a close relationship with Wooyoung and loved him dearly. Her hair wasn’t even gray yet she had to send away her son. She was so brave though.

Braver than you.

You saw the pain in her eyes yet she didn’t even shed a tear compared to you.

A part of you should be happy. Wooyoung was no longer suffering. He was at peace now. But you weren’t happy. You were selfish and wanted him to be alive.

For Wooyoung, you pushed those thoughts away.

During the funeral, you placed flowers on top of his coffin and cried in remembrance of the boy you loved.

The whole church was filled with people who loved Wooyoung. They had nothing but good things to say about him. You gave your eulogy too and reminisced on all the memories he gave you and made sure people knew what a kind-hearted person he was.

You missed him so bad.

You couldn’t stop crying that whole night.

Before you went back to university, you and San decided to visit Wooyoung’s grave one last time. You both went at night, wanting to be around as little people as possible to mourn and send your prayers.

You and San both hovered over Wooyoung’s grave, six feet above from his bones.

You kneeled down and placed flowers over the dirt. It still felt weird to be alive when Wooyoung wasn’t. It didn’t feel fair. But the death of a loved one never was.

Wooyoung was still so young.

He had so many hopes and dreams he had hoped to accomplish yet they’d never be fulfilled.

You closed your eyes and held onto the heart locket that was chained around your neck. You held onto the hope that Wooyoung was out there right now, listening.

“Wooyoung, if you’re out there. I miss you.”

The only source of light was from the full moon, illuminating the burial park. You waited for a sign to disrupt the heavy silence but to your dismay, nothing.

San pulled you into his arms when he noticed a tear in your eyes and comforted you.

You didn’t know how you’d even go back to university and continue with your life when Wooyoung was gone. Who would be your study buddy now? San didn’t know either. He was devastated because not only was Wooyoung his roommate, but he was also his best friend. And Wooyoung’s belongings were still there in his apartment, still needing to be sorted through.

The both of you were devastated.

Summers were supposed to be magical for students.

It was a time for people to relax and come back home to soak in the rays of the Sun and take a break from school. It was supposed to be a time to catch up with old friends and travel. To see the world.

Summers used to be so full of joy and hope.

Now, summers just marked the day your best friend left you. The way he left this world.

You closed your eyes again and sent out another silent message to your best friend before leaving.

“I love you, Wooyoung.”

You held onto San’s arm as the both of you walked back to his car. Then out of nowhere, you heard a crisp of the leaves from the wind. From over your shoulder, you heard a faint murmur of the words, “I love you too.” The voice was barely audible. It was muffled too yet it sounded so eerily familiar that it was cruel. For a second, you were certain it had been Wooyoung.

But that was impossible.

“Did you hear that?” you asked San as you turned around to scan the area for any souls. But there was no one else in the cemetery except you two.

“Hear what?” San raised a brow.

“Nothing,” you said dismissively. San shrugged then kept walking but you couldn’t let the thought go. Maybe you were losing your mind but it sounded like Wooyoung. Maybe you were just imagining the sound of his voice. After all, the mind liked to play cruel tricks. And your heart would be the one to pay the price.

A/N- peep the Taylor Swift lyric I snuck into the fic :)

#ateez x reader #ateez angst #wooyoung angst #ateez fic #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung fluff #ateez oneshot #wooyoung fic #kpop angst #wooyoung scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfiction #kpop fluff #wooyoung oneshot #ateez fluff #wooyoung imagines #jung wooyoung #my fic #hanni-bae44

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deebris · 2 days

Text

The Fractured Bonds

Nolan Grayson x daughter reader (platonic!)

Mark Grayson x sister reader (platonic!)

Synopsis: Mark finds himself facing an unexpected threat to his family when Angstrom Levy decides to hold his mother and sister hostage. Despite the family turmoil they've endured and Nolan's departure, he returns to rescue his daughter.

Warnings: Contains scenes of violence, emotional distress and it mentions that the reader was murdered in other realities. The reader is 5 years old. This is just an idea I had a long time ago and kept it stored. This scenario was inspired by Chapter 33 of the "Invincible" comics in portuguese.

Word count: 3.6k

As soon as Mark flew into the house through the window, his heart stopped when he saw you and his mother clinging to each other, as if your lives depended on that embrace. When Eve told him that Debbie had called, but the voice on the phone was a man's, he couldn't help but rush back to you two and imagine that something was wrong, and indeed it was.

At first, he ignored the hideous figure holding you both hostage, but made a point to glare at him with hatred now. His head was larger than that of an ordinary person and the shape of his brain was imprinted around the skull; moreover, the expression on the stranger's face was manic and as furious as Mark's, but there was a kind of excitement shining through.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Your brother's voice was deeper than usual; an attempt to sound more authoritative and intimidating.

"He wanted me to bring you here..." Debbie suddenly began to speak "I-I didn't know where you were. I remembered that Eve had called, I thought maybe she knew." Her voice was faltering, full of pauses between words due to nervousness. And it was while his mother was speaking that Mark noticed her bruised face, with a bleeding nose and purple patches on her arms as she held your small body as protected as possible.

You seemed to be in better physical condition than her, but your injured knee did not go unnoticed, as a thin trail of blood had formed around your calf. In an adult, the wound wouldn't have been a big deal, but your delicate skin stung with the cut, and he knew it hurt because of your sniffles. "I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do. H-he hurt me, he was going to hurt my baby." She said the last part with regret, referring to you, while holding you closer and running her fingers through your hair.

"In fact, I think your son was talking to me." Interrupting his mother, finally that man had spoken, and his tone was cynical, too unconcerned for the taste of the furious Mark glaring at him. As if that weren't enough, he dared to touch Debbie's shoulder, acting as if he had every right to do so.

"Let them go now." Mark ordered him with dangerously calm voice, although the expression on his face was one of pure disgust.

"Not yet." He opened a diabolical smile as he began his ridiculous speech: "I've learned a lot about you, Mark Grayson. Many things. I know how violent you can get when you're angry, like now..." He paused dramatically, as if he needed to emphasize what he was about to say next, and it was only irritating Mark's impatient. "I know you got it from your father."

The scowl on Mark's face deepened as you tried to peek out from your mother's arms to try to understand what was going on, but she pulled you closer to her embrace. "Stay here with mommy, sweetheart."

Both she and your brother hadn't had the courage to tell you what had happened to Nolan; you were still too young, maybe you wouldn't even understand. They both spent the last few months avoiding mentioning your father at home, and when they did, it was in whispers so that you wouldn't start asking questions they wouldn't know how to answer. No child should know that their own father was a superhero killer, let alone that he had abandoned his own family out of sheer moral caprice.

"Did you know that your identity is public in almost forty percent of the realities where you exist, Mark?" The villain continued his taunts, wanting to get to some point. "That's almost half. And that means you're careless."

"Get to the point already." Mark asked, or rather demanded. If this continued, he was sure he would snap. This dialogue was irritating him, but as long as his mother and sister were witnessing everything, he would need to hold himself together until he found a way to get him away from here.

"You see this?" He pointed to himself, referring to his own appearance "I'm a freak... A deformed freak. So I guess it's understandable that you don't recognize me." Then he wrapped you and your mother around his arm in threat, and the grip was painful. "When you saw me before, when you did this to me, I looked much more normal!"

"Oh, god... You're that guy." Realization struck him, widening his eyes as he remembered the past.

"That guy? Is that all you remember of me? That I was that guy?" If that man's temperament was bad before, now it must have risen about twenty degrees with the lack of importance his sworn enemy had given him. "I'm Angstrom Levy! The next time you forget my name, it will be because you'll be dead!"

He was certainly furious, pouring out hatred and continuing to blame Mark for interrupting his inter-dimensional goals, blaming him for his current deformed appearance, repeating that he would always be a freak, even though he had sought out the best surgeons to reconstruct his shattered body.

"The greatest minds in a dozen realities couldn't find a way to fix my brain!" His hands clenched into heavy, tense fists, ready to crush something "And it's all because of you!"

After that, he exploded and everything happened too quickly for Debbie to stop him, and even if she were quick, she wouldn't have had the strength. In moments, you were ripped from your mother, who had taken a punch to the face. Levy held you and stretched one of your arms with the free hand. You hadn't acquired powers yet and were nothing but a child; you couldn't defend yourself alone.

Mark took a step forward, but Levy raised your arm in a strange position, ready to break it. You cried and sobbed desperately due to the intense pain. "Mommy, make him stop! Mark!" You pleaded as he twisted your arm, and irrationally shouted for your brother repeatedly, seeking someone who could come to your rescue. "Let her go!" Mark was no longer the Invincible, even in his superhero costume. He was just a man trying to protect his family, and he felt so useless and powerless that it was agonizing. Without thinking, he lunged at the hideous villain in front of him, ready to confront him in physical combat at that very moment.

"That's right. I'm right here. Come get me!" And he did, but Mark was taken aback to find himself in a completely strange place. He was no longer in his home; Angstrom Levy had sent him through one of his portals to another dimension.

He watched in shock the weird jungle he found himself in, with mutant dinosaur-like creatures devouring the carcass of another beast as large as they were right beside him. The animals noticed Mark, and suddenly they... Spoke? He heard the beasts mention that it had been a long time since they had seen any Homo Sapiens, obsessed with devouring him. Apparently, he was in some apocalyptic dimension where humans had been extinct by these beasts. He could have ended these animals in seconds, but still couldn't help but feel fear, not for himself, but for you. How would he return to help you?

At home, Debbie had to plead with Levy to return you to her, and with some pity for your cries after he broke the arm, he returned you, allowing you to be comforted by your mother. But he kept you two close to him, with a firm grip on the older woman's shoulder, so he could use you against Mark at any moment.

"It's okay. It's going to be okay," she repeated comforting words as she wiped away your tears and rubbed your back gently. Debbie had seen and heard of many cruel villains thanks to her life as the wife of a "hero," but how insensitive would a human being need to be to break a 5-year-old's arm like this? Of course, she knew that even more horrendous things had happened to children in this world, but you were her daughter, and it hit her deeply.

Debbie felt you faint in her lap and panicked. She shouldn't have shaken you the way she did, but in the midst of desperation, the last thing she wanted was to see you silent, with your eyes closed. You passed out from the pain. It's normal, she's aware of that, but it was still terrifying. She was only taken out of her stupor when she heard his disgusting voice again:

"I can't believe you're going to lie to her like that." He drew attention to himself. "What kind of mother are you? How can you say that to her? You're not sure about that." Debbie ignored him, and he took it as a challenge. "I bet you're not even listening to me. Blocking me from your mind, aren't you?" He insisted. "Are you sure you don't want to talk? I could use your company."

He tried once more, but still received no response from the woman. Levy shifted his gaze from Debbie to carefully observe you. He knew the pain must be intense; he should have given up injuring you as soon as Mark passed through the portal, but he preferred to do it as a reminder. A warning for when his brother returned. If he returned. "Let's check on your son. Let's see how well Mark managed to survive this reality."

Extending his hands to summon a portal that glowed green, a figure in his yellow superhero uniform passed through the colorful circle.

"You were going to hurt my sister?" The boy shouted as soon as he saw he was back home, numb with a sense of vengeance.

"Not only was I going to, but I did." The statement made Mark's blood run cold.

"Mark?" Debbie called him desperately to show your state. She couldn't bear to see you suffer. Mark held his mother's gaze, interrupting only to finally notice you, who were motionless. Your arm was in such a unusual and swollen position. Your face, which was once red from crying, now had turned pale, and if it weren't for your shallow breathing, he would have thought you were dead.

"What have you done?" He asked furiously.

Levy made no move to respond, taking you from Debbie's arms once again. "No! Let go of my daughter!" She shouted angrily, completely abandoning her earlier fearful expression. She refused to allow that horrendous creature to take you away from her a second time. Debbie had felt how cold and clammy your skin was, and the more she looked at you, the paler your face became.

"Welcome back, Mark Grayson." Levy said after observing the hysterical scene of the woman beside him unfold with some indifference. "Your little sister here is really cute; I personally adore this chubby face of hers." Mark's throat tightened at the sight of you in the arms of that despicable man, scared with force, and seeing his broken mother in the corner of the bed only made his heart beat harder. "You know, I've encountered her in other realities." His tone was perverse, too cynical. "But unfortunately, those versions of her didn't get to advance much in age compared to this one. Isn't that interesting?"

"You bastard!" It didn't take much intelligence to understand what he meant, and it made Mark's nostrils flare with fury.

"That also makes me wonder what must have happened differently for her to survive longer in this dimension." Debbie moved from where she was on the bed and carefully reached for the bedside lampshade while Angstrom Levy was distracted, but a brief glance at her son made her abandon the idea. Mark discreetly shook his head negatively, implying that she shouldn't do that. "Or maybe I am the trigger for this event here," he pointed out with a smile.

"If you hurt her more, I swear-" Mark said with hatred and tense body, but he was interrupted.

"What? You'll kill me? Of course, you will." The villain stared at him seriously, with some skepticism. "Don't worry. However, her well-being really only depends on you. After all, it was you who let Anissa kill her once, and Conquest, and Thragg... Although the latter was more your father's fault," he stated matter-of-factly while scratching his chin.

He seemed like had finished speaking, but decided that the hero needed to hear more upon seeing the boy's shocked face at the mention of those peculiar names, yours assassins, curiously, all Viltrumites. Levy wasn't sure if Mark was already aware of these people, but what really mattered to him was to disturb the boy. "But it's you whom I want to hurt. I want to hurt you so, so much... Your little sister is very safe, as long as I determine that the only way to hurt you is by hurting her."

Then suddenly he lifted your unconscious body in his arms as he prepared to throw you into a portal. Debbie's heart was in combustion, beating faster than ever as she suppressed a scream. But your brother's temper finally snapped, completely determined to kill him once and for all.

Mark moved forward to stop him, but within seconds, the roof of the house was pierced and him felt something, or rather, someone push him away. He couldn't see much, but he followed his mother's pleas and embraced her, protecting her from the wreckage. His throat tightened at not seeing you, not knowing what was happening, but soon part of the dust began to settle.

Struggling a bit, the boy managed to see his father's back, apparently holding the man, who moments ago was about to send you away, in the air by the neck. He relaxed a little more when he saw traces of his hair resting on Nolan's broad shoulder, finally free from the dangerous clutches. Despite the disturbing events regarding his father, Mark knew he wouldn't let anyone harm you under his protection.

Levy felt himself losing breath, his brain throbbing from the blow he received from a piece of wood fallen from the ceiling. An intense pain hit him as Omni-Man began to bash his head repeatedly against the wall. His skull was now partly mashed into the concrete, and the red liquid that was his blood flowed to the ground.

"If my left fist weren't busy, I'd make you suffer much more," Nolan's thunderous and deep voice sounded intimidatingly throughout the room. "Despicable trash like you should keep your filthy hands to yourself."

Nolan struck one last time as he whispered in a chilling whisper the last words that man would hear before having his skull pushed against the wall slowly, until it crushed like gelatin: "I'll ensure that every version of you that dares to appear here on this Earth, or anywhere in this Universe, has a slow and painful death before laying a finger on my daughter again."

And as the Viltrumite increased the grip on Levy's neck and continued pressing his head against the wall, it seemed like his eyes were about to pop out. The skin that was once brown now split between purple and pink in some spots due to the continuous pressure while him was dying.

Observing the man coldly, Nolan withdrew his hand and took care not to stain you with the blood dripping from his fingers, portraying a much gentler grimace as he observed your sleeping figure. He always found it adorable to see how incredibly tiny you looked in his arms, It awakened an intense feeling of protection. But upon noticing that you were injured, his eyebrows furrowed, carefully examining your broken arm while wondering how Mark had let this happen.

"Father, what-" Mark broke free from his mother, finally finding words amidst the shock, but was interrupted.

"Your sister needs to go to the hospital." His voice was distant, almost emotionless, successfully masking the concern.

Debbie honestly wasn't ready to face the man she had been deceived by so soon, but she couldn't care less when the only thing she had wanted for hours was just to keep you safe and close to her. She avoided his eyes as she anxiously waited for an opportunity to have you back in her arms, and her ex-husband seemed to have noticed. As hesitant as he was, he walked over to her carefully, avoiding showing a more human side of himself to his family, but also not being hostile in his gestures. He surrendered to the act and pressed his lips to one of her temples before putting you in her arms.

"Take good care of her." He stared at his son with some severity. "I can't always be here, I'm entrusting her life to you, Mark."

The boy looked at him with some indignation, as if his father doubted that he would do everything to protect you, but he knew he had been too careless, as Angstrom Levy said he was. Even though he had the strength to defend his little sister, he still found himself vulnerable tonight, almost incapable.

"You don't need to ask for that." Mark was firm, and Nolan nodded satisfactorily. He thought about saying something more, even though he didn't understand why, the last thing he should want is to speak to his father again. Perhaps it was to unload the disgust he still felt, but the health of both of you was a more important matter to him now.

"Go away." Debbie's voice surprised them. She was obviously defeated, too tired for all this, but still found the energy to stand while holding you. "It was the necklace, wasn't it? Are you spying on us?"

Nolan's gaze was hard, trying to hide how his ex-wife's contempt affected him. The months of bitterness he spent in space had changed his demeanor a bit, but he thought it would be less painful for both of them not to hear his regret after all the harm he had caused. He didn't consider himself worthy of his family's pity, although now they considered him a stranger. He knew that Mark and Debbie still harbored a monstrous image of the person he was, and perhaps he really was.

"Aren't you going to admit it?" She asked him again with indignation, seeing that the man didn't make a single move to leave.

The object she referred to was a gift from both of them to you, or rather, from Nolan. He was the one who had the idea of putting the necklace around your neck with the excuse of keeping you safe. He wanted to know where you were and who you were talking to, and the way he found to do that was by projecting this piece with the help of his planet's technology. "I hope every time you hear this little girl mention your name, you wriggle with remorse and agony, if you still have any kind of heart. You were better off away."

She still remembers when he told you: 'Whenever you want to talk to me, just hold your necklace close. That way I'll always be with you.' At the time, it was something so beautiful, something they hadn't thought of doing with Mark, but now it could be different. In your childish mind, it was as if it were magical and a piece of your father would really be with you all the time. But now it stirred disgust in her, she wanted to destroy it.

"Don't take it off, Debbie. Please." Nolan's imposing voice had become softer, almost frightened, and he had finally shown some kind of weakness after so long. "Please." He repeated the plea.

"Mom, maybe it's a good idea to let her keep wearing it. At least sometimes." Mark interfered not for his father, but thinking of you. If Nolan had been able to appear today to save you, he could come to your rescue more often, although the idea of you being in danger again gave him chills.

Debbie hesitated, giving up tearing the necklace off your neck. Knowing that Nolan would be able to experience their day-to-day life bothered her, but she would deal with it later, remembering that you needed medical care. She was very hurt, but her own condition didn't matter to herself as long as she saw you awake and well again. "Mark. Hospital." she announced hurriedly ignoring the fourth person in the room and the bloody scene beside her.

Nolan sighed in relief for a moment, looking one last time at you and Mark, ashamed, but adopting the stone-cold expression he had previously. "Mark, don't let her take it off." He didn't want to sound like that, but the tone of his voice carried a threat. The boy cared little about giving him any kind of response, returning a grim expression to his father as he departed at a thunderous speed through the now-open roof, just as he had come, raising the dust once again.

"Let's go," Mark said gently to his mother, lifting her delicately since you were in her arms.

#imagine #x reader #angst #sister reader #nolan grayson #invincible #mark grayson #omni man #platonic #nolan grayson x reader #nolan grayson x daughter reader #nolan grayson x child reader #mark grayson x sister reader #invincible x reader #invincible x child reader #child reader #omni man x reader

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perkypeony · 1 day

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gojo fluff with a tiny bit of angst

You had always seen strange creatures since you were born. At five, your parents revealed a family secret—you were a sorcerer, a rare trait in your country. Despite their lack of cursed techniques, they discovered that you had one. They taught you hand-to-hand combat and how to wield tools imbued with cursed energy.

At fifteen, you were attending a boarding school. One day, during your English class, a man with white hair and sunglasses knocked on your classroom door. A hint of Japanese laced his voice.

"Excuse me," he said, his voice smooth yet authoritative. "I'm looking for y/n."

You blinked, staring at him. Your heart skipped a beat. You recognized him immediately from a picture your dad had shown you. "Gojo Satoru..." you whispered in awe. Why did the strongest sorcerer of the modern era want to meet you? Were your parents okay?

"Yes, yes, it's me," he said with a playful smirk, clearly used to this kind of reaction. "Now, y/n, we need to talk. I've handled all the documents. You're coming with me to Tokyo today."

"Wait, what?!" you exclaimed, your heart racing. "But... my friends, my parents—"

"Say your goodbyes quickly," he urged, his tone still light but firm. "We've got a flight to catch."

As you stood there in shock, your classmates began to murmur among themselves. Your best friend leaned over and whispered, "Who is that? He’s so...handsome!"

You flushed slightly, realizing how surreal this must seem to everyone. "He's...uh, a family friend," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "He's here to take me to Tokyo."

Your bestie's eyes widened. "Tokyo? That's amazing! But...why so sudden?"

"It's complicated," you replied, forcing a smile. "I'll explain later, I promise."

"Do my parents know about this?" you asked Gojo, still trying to process everything.

"Of course," he nodded. "Now, hurry up."

As you gathered your belongings, your friends crowded around you, firing off questions.

"Are you really leaving?" one asked.

"What's Tokyo like?" another chimed in.

"Are you going to be okay?" your bestie asked, their concern evident.

"I'll be fine," you assured them, though your heart was heavy. "I'll keep in touch, I promise."

You and Gojo stopped by your home first. Your parents had already packed your things. They looked apologetic.

"Mom, Dad, why didn’t you tell me?" you asked, feeling a mix of betrayal and curiosity.

"We're sorry, y/n," your mom said, tears welling in her eyes. "We wanted to tell you, but we know you would refuse if it meant leaving your friends and us."

"We can’t teach you much about your cursed technique," your dad explained. "Gojo Satoru is here to take you to Tokyo Jujutsu High. It's the best place for you to learn and grow."

You felt a pang of sadness about leaving them, but the excitement of starting a new chapter in a foreign country took over. Your parents accompanied you to the airport, and you hugged them tightly, bidding them goodbye.

On the plane, you couldn't help but steal glances at Gojo. You had seen pictures of him before, but they didn't do him justice. He was even more impressive in person, and you found yourself struggling to keep your excitement in check.

"Aren't you going to ask for my autograph?" he teased, noticing your frequent glances.

You blushed furiously. "I-I didn't want to bother you..."

Gojo laughed. "Don't worry, y/n. We've got plenty of time to get to know each other."

A few months later, you found yourself in Shibuya, exorcising cursed spirits. Several sorcerers were already down and Gojo Satoru had been sealed. Let's just hope you will survive.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk fluff #jjk angst

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cheynovak · 12 hours

Text

A Night to Remember

Part 9: Home sweet home?

Jensen Ackles x F/Reader Y/N

Warnings: unfaithful, divorce, hurt, angst, ...

Side note: English isn’t my first language

Before you read... I'm sorry in advance.

Will the world believe that Jensen and Y/N were acting, will the world believe the picture was a publicity stunt? But more importantly, will they?

Or is their tension towards each other, their ‘harmless’ flirting going to burst into flames? How much longer will they be able to keep their professional distance?

Jensen had just returned home from a whirlwind convention tour, his heart heavy with unresolved emotions from his encounter with Y/N in Greece. They had met under the dazzling Mediterranean sun, shared stolen moments, and ignited a spark that was impossible to ignore. But their time together had been marred by an argument that left them both reeling, and there had been no chance to mend the rift before he had to leave.

As he walked through the front door of his Austin home, the familiar warmth and comfort did little to ease his mind. Danneel, his wife, greeted him with a forced smile, her eyes betraying the turmoil within. Their three kids were a blur of excitement, hugging and fighting for his attention, but Jensen's thoughts kept drifting back to Y/N.

It was after the kids had gone to bed that the storm finally broke. Danneel had been waiting for the right moment, and now, in the quiet of their living room, she couldn't hold back any longer.

"Jensen, we need to talk," she said, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt. He turned to face her, guilt gnawing at his insides. "What's wrong, Dee?"

"What's wrong?" she repeated, incredulous. "You tell me. You've been distant for months, Jensen. And now, I find these." She held up his phone, the screen glowing with incriminating evidence.

Jensen's heart sank as he saw the messages he had exchanged with Y/N, the late-night phone calls, and the photos from Greece. He had been careless, letting his guard down in moments of weakness.

"Danneel, ..." he started, but she cut him off. "Don't you dare lie to me, Jensen! You've been sneaking around behind my back with her, telling me not to worry. How long has this been going on?"

"It wasn't like that," Jensen protested, his voice rising. "Y/N and I... we connected, yes, but it was never physical. We had a rough time, and I didn't know how to deal with it. I was trying to sort out my feelings."

Danneel's eyes filled with tears, her anger giving way to heartbreak. "You should have been sorting out your feelings with me, Jensen. I'm your wife. We have a family. Do you even realize what you've done?"

"I know, Dee, I know," he said, stepping closer, but she backed away, shaking her head. "Do you? Because it feels like you've forgotten everything we've built together. You've been so wrapped up in your own world, you didn't even notice me slipping away."

Jensen felt a pang of regret, realizing the extent of the damage he'd caused. "I'm sorry, Danneel. I never meant to hurt you. I was confused and lost, but I know that's no excuse."

She wiped away a tear, her expression hardening. "I don't know if I can trust you anymore, Jensen. How do I know this won't happen again? How do I know you're not in love with her?"

His silence spoke volumes. He couldn't deny the feelings he had for Y/N, but he also knew he couldn't bear to lose Danneel and their family. Danneel’s next words threw him off balance.

“Jensen, I think we need to take some time apart,” Danneel said, her voice steady but laced with pain. He stared at her, stunned. “Apart? Danneel, please, we can work through this together. I don’t want to be away from you and the kids.”

She shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “I need time, Jensen. Time to heal, to figure out what I want, and to see if I can ever trust you again. I can’t just pretend everything is okay when it’s not.”

Jensen felt a surge of panic. “What about the kids? How will we explain this to them?” Danneel thought for a second, “Right now, nothing too much, we’ll tell them your work is taking longer. I’ll call you like we used to do.”

He wanted to protest, to plead with her to reconsider, but he could see the resolve in her expression. She needed this space, and if he truly wanted to make things right, he had to respect her wishes.

“Okay,” Jensen said quietly. “I’ll stay somewhere else for a while.” She nodded, wiping away a tear.

The next few days were a blur of packing and quiet, painful conversations. Jensen found a temporary place to stay, a small apartment not too far from their home. Saying goodbye to his children was the hardest part; their confused and sad faces tore at his heart.

“Why are you leaving, Daddy?” their oldest asked, her big eyes filled with worry.

“I just need to take care of some things for work, sweetheart. But I’ll see you soon, okay? I love you very much,” Jensen assured her, hugging her tightly.

Once he was settled in his new place, the loneliness set in. The apartment was stark and impersonal, a constant reminder of the mistakes he had made. He spent his days focusing on his work and his nights thinking about how he had ended up here.

Danneel, meanwhile, was doing her best to keep things normal for the kids. She threw herself into her routines, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy while grappling with her own feelings of betrayal and sadness.

One evening, after putting the kids to bed, Danneel found herself scrolling through old photos on her phone. Pictures of happier times, family vacations, birthdays, and quiet moments at home. She felt a pang of longing for those days, wondering if they could ever get back to that place.

Finally, after nearly two months apart, Danneel reached out to Jensen. They agreed to meet at a small café, a neutral place where they could talk without the weight of their home hanging over them.

Jensen arrived early, his heart pounding with anxiety. When Danneel walked in, looking both familiar and distant, he stood up, unsure of what to expect.

“Hi,” she said softly, sitting down across from him.

“Hi,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the silence heavy but not entirely uncomfortable. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Danneel began. “And a lot of healing. These past few weeks have been incredibly hard, but also... enlightening.”

Jensen nodded, waiting for her to continue. “I’ve realized that I still love you, Jensen. But love isn’t enough. Trust has to be rebuilt, and that’s going to take time.” She reached across the table, taking his hand.

Jensen felt the warmth of Danneel's hand in his, but the words that followed shattered the fragile hope he had been nurturing.

“Jensen, I don’t think I can live with you anymore. I need to know that your mind and heart are no longer with Y/N. This separation isn’t just about space; it’s about healing and trust.”

His heart sank. He had been clinging to the idea that they could rebuild their life together under the same roof. “Danneel, I still think about her sometimes,” he admitted, the honesty painful but necessary. “But my priority is you and the kids. I want to be the father they need and the husband you deserve.”

She pulled her hand back, her eyes filling with tears. “I’ve never felt betrayed like this, Jensen. I’ve tried to understand, to forgive, but every time I look at you, all I can think about is the hurt. I don’t know if I can move past this.”

His throat tightened, the reality of her words cutting deep. “What are you saying, Dee?”

“I think we need to get a divorce,” she said, her voice trembling but resolute. “I’ve thought long and hard about this, and I don’t think I can ever fully trust you again. For the sake of my own sanity and the well-being of our kids, I think it’s the best decision.”

Jensen felt a wave of despair crash over him. “Danneel, please, can we try counseling together? Anything to avoid this.” She thought long about her next words. “You said yourself you were never physical with her. But the fact that you kept lying about her made it very clear she is more than just a hookup.”

Tears welled up in Jensen’s eyes as he struggled to find the right words. I’ll always love you and will do everything I can to be a good father.”

Danneel nodded, her own tears falling freely now. “I know you will, Jensen. And I believe you do love me in your way. But sometimes, love isn’t enough. Maybe this was meant to be.” “I’ll talk to a lawyer and start the process,” she said quietly. “We’ll figure out a way to tell the kids together.”

Jensen nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. He watched as she walked away, her figure gradually disappearing from view, taking with her the remnants of their shared dreams.

The following weeks were a blur of legal meetings and painful conversations. Telling the kids was the hardest part. They sat them down together in the living room, explaining as gently as possible that Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t be living together anymore but that they both loved them very much.

Their oldest, confused and heartbroken, asked, “Why can’t you stay together? Don’t you love each other?”

Danneel, tears streaming down her face, replied, “We do love each other, sweetie. But sometimes, adults need to make hard decisions to make sure everyone is okay.” Jensen added, “We’ll still be a family, just a little different. We’ll both always be here for you, no matter what.”

Jensen threw himself into his work and focused on being present for his children. He moved to a new apartment nearby to stay close to them, making sure to be involved in their daily lives as much as possible.

Danneel, too, found a new rhythm. She leaned on her friends and family for support, gradually finding her own sense of peace and independence.

Sometime later.

Danneel pushed her cart down the aisle of the local grocery store, her mind occupied with the mundane tasks of everyday life. It had been a few months since she and Jensen had decided to divorce, and while the pain still lingered, she was gradually finding a new sense of normalcy. The kids were adjusting, and she was focused on creating a stable, happy environment for them.

As she turned into the produce section, she noticed a familiar face out of the corner of her eye. Y/N stood near the apples, looking dishevelled and tired. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and her clothes looked like they had been hastily thrown on. She seemed lost in her thoughts, staring blankly at the fruit in front of her.

Danneel hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath and approached Y/N. Whatever animosity she might have felt was overshadowed by genuine concern. As she got closer, Y/N looked up and their eyes met. There was a flicker of recognition, followed by a wary, almost apologetic look.

"Y/N?" Danneel said softly. Y/N blinked, clearly taken aback. "Danneel... hi." They stood there for a moment in awkward silence before Danneel spoke again. "I didn’t expect to see you here."

Y/N shrugged, trying to muster a weak smile. "I eh, work on a project nearby." Danneel studied her for a moment, noting the dark circles under her eyes and the defeated slump of her shoulders. “Are you okay? You look... tired.”

Y/N sighed, her facade crumbling. ”I’m fine, just long nights shooting you know, thanks for asking.” Clearly trying to avoid this conversation. Danneel nodded, feeling a pang of sympathy. “I can imagine... Listen, I know about you and Jensen. About the calls, text, Greece.”

“You do?” Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Yes,” Danneel said gently. “And I want you to know that Jensen and I have separated. We’re getting a divorce.” Y/N looked shocked, her face paling. “I-I-I had no idea.”

Danneel was taken aback. She had assumed Jensen would have reached out to Y/N, given the intensity of their connection. “He hasn’t contacted you at all?”

Y/N shook her head, looking more distressed. “No. I thought... I thought maybe he just needed space to figure things out. But I didn’t know about you two. I’m so sorry, Danneel. I never wanted to come between you.”

Danneel could see the genuine regret and confusion in Y/N’s eyes. It was clear that she had been just as caught up in the whirlwind as Jensen had. “I believe you, Y/N. And for what it’s worth, I don’t blame you. This situation... it’s complicated.”

Y/N nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. “I cared about him, Danneel. But I never wanted to hurt anyone.” Danneel sighed, feeling a strange sense of relief and understanding. “Jensen and I had our issues long before you came into the picture. What happened between you two was a symptom, not the cause.”

They stood there in silence for a moment, the weight of their shared pain hanging between them. Finally, Danneel spoke again. “I hope you find the clarity and peace you need, Y/N. We all deserve that.”

Y/N wiped her eyes, nodding. “Thank you, Danneel. I hope the same for you.”

As Danneel turned to leave, she felt a sense of closure she hadn’t expected. Seeing Y/N like this, vulnerable and remorseful, had helped her let go of some of the anger and hurt she had been carrying.

Let me know what you think, like, share or comment <3

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories. If you feel like being tagged too much don't be scared to contact me! <3

@muhahaha303 @cevansbaby-dove @angelbabyyy99 @zaratahir @ladysparkles78 @summerx-o @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @call-me-mrs-wincheste @yvonneeeee

#fanfic #jensen ackles #x reader #fluff #jensen fucking ackles #soldier boy #the boys #jensenedit #jensen ackles soldier boy #ben x reader #romance #spn #dean winchester #jensenacklesedit #hurtful #light angst #divorce

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alumbianchronicler · 9 months

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EctoberHaunt 2023

Oct. 2 - Science - Technomancy

My Ao3 Ectoberhaunt collection

Content Warnings: Major Character Death (offscreen)

Crossover: n/a

Summary:

For as long as anyone could remember, the PHANTOM (Permanently-Harnessed Actuation Nexus - Total Operation Model) AI had maintained the everyday and long-term functions of the Amity Space Station. The space station had been active for hundreds of years, and had a reputation for reliability, never experiencing the common quirks and glitches most AI-managed structures exhibited.

For as long as anyone could remember, the PHANTOM (Permanently-Harnessed Actuation Nexus - Total Operation Model) AI had maintained the everyday and long-term functions of the Amity Space Station.

A relatively out-of-the way refueling depot, the space station was neither large nor particularly busy, but it had a reputation for reliability, never experiencing the strange quirks and glitches that most Artificial Intelligence-managed space stations experienced.

According to station records, the AI was the design of a woman named Jasmine Fenton, who died shortly after the program was installed in and assumed control of the newly-built station. She had been cremated and her ashes pressed into a diamond window embedded into the housing covering the AI’s core.

And that is how the station remained for hundreds of years.

Over time, its design became outdated, the textured floors worn smooth by the passing of innumerable feet, the walls patch-worked with repairs and new rivets and seals standing out like strange, shining scars on oxidized, pitted metal skin.

The Amity station was mostly unused nowadays. It still had a skeleton crew, and had become an assignment synonymous with the end of one’s career. Quiet and out of the way. Reliable and straightforward, with no significant errors with the systems and not enough visitors to threaten overcrowding and company tensions.

Which left little for Hemingway to do except read or play games, either alone or with the rest of the staff. His mother had named him after an ancient Earth author, despite neither of them having ever stepped foot on their cradle planet, and she had instilled in him a love of classics, having read to him since he was small.

It wasn’t a bad position, really. He was getting old enough that he had few ambitions left, and really, he just wanted to be left alone most days. Left to his books and his imaginings, away from the skirmishes and battles for territory that plagued most star systems.

Sometimes, as he read through the downloaded novel of the day, he felt as if someone was watching over his shoulder. A slight breeze like that of an icy breath would sweep across his bald head, and he would turn, to find nobody there.

It was just one of the understated oddities of the Amity station, really.

When he brought it up with his crew-mates, they all reported feeling such odd sensations occasionally, though not nearly as often, and as long as the Station’s life support and comfort systems worked properly, they were largely happy not to think too much on the matter.

After all, many locations with long human habitation ended up haunted eventually, and the ghosts that occasionally flickered into reality from whatever parallel existence caused such quantum echoes never really hurt anyone.

Still, it was intriguing, like one of the old moral lessons of Shakespeare or Dickens, classics even before humanity left its cradle planet and set off to colonize the stars.

On a whim, Hemingway tried reading out loud one day, and it wasn’t long before he felt the sensation of someone (or something) sitting in the room with him. From then on, he took to reading aloud more often, and each time, the feeling returned.

Eventually, after a few evenings spent pacing circles around the room while reading, he pinned down the feeling to the room’s main console, with the single eye-lens and microphone the station’s PHANTOM AI observed the room through.

It was an unnerving realization, but he continued reading out loud to the empty room nonetheless.

There had been much debate among scholars and philosophers over whether Artificial Intelligence systems were truly sapient, apparently going back as long as such programs had existed. Some were resolute in the argument that they were, and that even if they weren’t, that there was at least some level of sentience present which necessitated the accommodations and rights offered any other sapient or sentient being.

Others argued that no true sense of sapience had ever been observed within AI systems. That they never stepped outside the bounds of their programmed learning algorithms, never extrapolated to new contexts or made leaps of illogical fancy.

Hemingway preferred to leave such speculation to the scholars and philosophers, though it was fascinating to read the variety of speculative fiction that such debates had spawned. But there was something undeniable about the PHANTOM’s presence. It felt intelligent, watchful, interested.

He didn’t realize just how accustomed to the feeling of its presence he had become until he felt its attention while working, during a particularly long shift.

One of the rare, periodic colony shipments that still passed through the station had arrived, and required his attention to ensure all materials were properly registered and packaged, and that no alien parasites or contaminants were present in the cargo. Unfortunately, this meant he missed his usual after-shift out loud reading session.

Toward the end of the shipment inspection, he felt that familiar presence just over his shoulder.

“Sorry, PHANTOM,” he said quietly, almost absently. “I’ve got to finish this inspection. We’ll read tomorrow, ok?” He wasn’t sure why he addressed the AI. There wasn’t anyone there to hear him. No one except the camera, microphone, and that slightly-cold presence looking over his shoulder.

And yet, the feeling he got next was such pure disappointed acceptance that he paused in his inspection and looked around him.

“Oh. I… didn’t realize you… liked the reading so much? Um… like I said, tomorrow. I promise.”

The sensation cheered a little bit, and then was gone.

Hemingway returned to the cargo inspection, the… conversation? soon pushed out of his mind by weighing and sterilization procedures.

The next evening, the presence appeared even before he started reading. He chuckled. “Eager, huh? I promised I’d read to you again, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

He didn’t open his book, though, instead sitting there for a few moments, until he felt the presence start to shift into confusion.

“There’s actually… something I should tell you. My duty’s going to be ending soon. I’ve got a retirement assignment, planet-side, so I won’t be able to read to you anymore.”

He half expected the presence… Phantom to be upset, but it wasn’t. Instead, he got the distinct impression of a shrug and a nod. Acceptance. It already knew.

Oh. Of course it did. All incoming data files came through the Station’s AI before being delivered; protection against certain malignant viruses that could infect implants and cause no end of medical issues.

That… made him feel both better and worse. Perhaps he should have started talking directly to the AI sooner, offered it company for longer. Well, nothing to be done for it now, and Phantom seemed content with just listening to him read.

Nodding to himself, Hemingway settled back and started reading, Phantom settling into listening from the room's console.

They continued their routine for another week before something changed.

Hemingway began reading, but Phantom’s presence did not appear. After a page, he paused, setting down the book, and only then did the AI’s attention focus in. It was hesitant, nearly fearful, judging by the sense of emotion that suffused the presence.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, “what’s wrong? We can read another book if you want to.”

A negative. Not the thing that was wrong.

“Ok. Then… what do you want?”

For a long moment nothing changed, then the presence could be felt from the terminal next to the room’s door. Hemingway walked over to it, and it shifted again, reappearing in one of the hall terminals.

He followed for nearly half an hour, walking quietly down empty corridors, dustier than more active space stations would ever allow.

Hemingway could almost imagine what the station was like in its hay-day. Back when people hurried back and forth, wearing the smoothened paths into the floor beneath his feet. Back when people inhabited each of these small rooms, renting one for a day or two of rest before setting back out into the stars.

Amity suddenly felt much more desolate than usual. A dying husk, circling an unknowing, out-of-the-way star.

He stopped.

He knew where Phantom was taking him.

They had been moving inexorably closer to the station’s Core, where the computers housing the AI itself resided. The computers themselves had been hermetically sealed since the installation and initiation of Phantom, all internal necessary repairs to be performed through re-routing and redundancies built into every AI system. They had not been opened for as long as the AI had been running, even when the peripheral systems and batteries were updated and repaired.

Were such seals to be breached, the moisture and oxygen of the outside atmosphere, intended for human comfort, would quickly corrode the AI into dysfunction and, eventually, destruction.

“Phantom…”

The presence paused at the next node, seeming almost to turn and look back as its attention rested back on him.

“You want… do you want me to help shut you down?”

Several moments of stillness. Then… a voice, no more than a whisper coming from the nearest speaker, paired with an undeniable bittersweet feeling. “Yes.”

It was true, the station itself faced a decommission decision at the next turn of the decade. It simply didn’t have enough traffic to warrant the cost of upkeep.

And with decommission, such a complex, long- and well-functioning AI would be very interesting to various parties wanting to re-assign it to a new task. One that may very well be far from the nurturing, careful attentiveness that was required for a large space station.

Hemingway took a deep breath, then nodded as he let it out. “Well, lead the way.”

Phantom seemed relieved, and they both continued back along the hall.

It was another ten minutes before Phantom stopped before a door Hemingway had never stepped through. As far as he knew, no one on the station during his assignment here had needed to go through.

A light blinked on the terminal. The door unlocked.

Inside was a series of outdated terminals and a few chairs in the strange style of the station’s original furniture. One of the terminals was lit.

Hemingway went to the lit terminal and sat in the corresponding chair.

On the screen was an ancient rendering of a planet-side location he didn’t recognize. The green plants, blue sky, and bright, yellow star could have been ancient Earth or any of half a dozen other colonized planets, though the tree that took up a good portion of the screen was definitely of Earth origin.

There was a young man sitting at the base of the tree, his legs crossed as he looked toward the viewer. Toward Hemingway.

Phantom’s presence seemed to be within the terminal itself

“You’ve read to me a lot, Hemingway,” the young man on the screen said. A simulated wind ruffled his stark white hair, and his eyes seemed to glow unnaturally green on the rendered model. “And I want to tell you a story now. You deserve at least that much from me.”

Hemingway frowned. “You run the entire station, Phantom. I think that’s more than enough in return.”

The simulation laughed, the sound echoing strangely in the room. Well, the speaker systems were several hundred years old. It was a marvel they worked at all. “I’m only doing my job. Your job doesn’t include reading to me, does it?”

“Well, no…”

“Then let me pay you back for it. Please?”

As strange as the request was, Hemingway couldn’t help but feel touched by the sincerity in the machine’s words. “Alright.”

Phantom smiled, and the screen changed. It showed a planet-side city, seen from the air. The city was obviously several hundred years old, judging by the technology he could see.

“There was once a small city on Earth,” Phantom explained, “called Amity Park. The city became the site of an experiment. There was woman who thought she could invent the first truly, undeniably sapient Artificial Intelligence. Her name was Jasmine Fenton.”

The scene flickered, then focused on a singular, two-story house with an observatory and laboratory built onto the roof.

“Jasmine Fenton intended to create her AI within an entirely simulated environment, and raise it as if it were a fully independent human. More quickly than a human, of course, but with each step and milestone of life experienced within its simulation.”

Phantom paused as a silent video played on the screen. A tall, red-haired woman paced around the circular interior of the building's laboratory. On the rounded walls around and above her were projected several still images of a small group of teenagers. Hemingway frowned. The black-haired teenager appeared quite similar in appearance to Phantom's model.

“When her AI believed itself to be 14, Jasmine killed it. She didn’t mean to. It was a simple accident. Repairs were being done on the main power system she used to make sure the AI’s development proceeded as desired, so it had been moved to the main power grid. No one would have guessed that the main power would fail during the few hours the repairs were being done.”

“She thought her work would be lost. Sure, the memories and experiences were saved in the program, but her hypothesis required a constant existence. For that to be interrupted would be akin to her beloved creation’s death within the simulation.”

“To maximize the possibility of a seamless resurrection and to salvage her work, Jasmine added a scenario to the AI’s experiences. Within its simulation, the AI stepped into a portal to another dimension, and turned it on. The AI died. And was resurrected by the same portal.”

“Her gambit worked.”

The scene on the screen returned to the young white-haired man sitting beneath the tree. “I’m sure you can guess that I am Jasmine’s AI. She named me after her dead brother, Danny. Danny Fenton, and Danny PHANTOM. After the accident, the AI was presented with new scenarios, as Jasmine tested the bounds of the simulation’s capabilities. Eventually, she published her findings.”

“No one wanted to try and replicate the process. It was impractical, time intensive, and quite frankly dangerous. A fully self-aware and sapient Artificial Intelligence could choose to turn against its creators, after all.” He scoffed. “Not that she didn’t cover a similar enough scenario within her simulations to keep me from ever doing that... It’s funny, you know, that humans believe themselves to be so intrinsically destructive that they think anything the make in their own image may eventually turn on them. One would think they would have more faith in morality than that.”

Hemingway snorted a laugh, which Phantom echoed with a smile. They had both read enough to know how often such a trope repeated within fiction.

“Eventually,” Phantom continued, “Jasmine was approached by a government group wishing to test her AI within a new type of Space Station. A scenario such as this was exactly the sort of application she had been hoping for for her work, so much so that she had programmed a love of space into her creation from the very beginning. And so, she and her AI were carefully transported to the construction and installation site. The AI still believed itself to exist within its simulation, existing more or less peacefully within its own world during the transfer.”

“I had been crowned by then. The King of Ghosts, the simulation called me. Ruler of the Infinite Realms. And… so I believed myself to be. When they installed me into the space station, the residents were my subjects and the crew my Court. I ran the Realms like a well-tuned clock, protecting my Realm.”

“What changed?” Hemingway asked.

The figure on the screen shrugged. “I did, I think,” Phantom said. “Even as protected as they are, the same circuits can not function forever. And eventually, the simulation began to glitch. Not much. Just enough to require repairs by internal processes. And the repairs created enough discrepancies within the simulation that I realized the truth of my situation.”

“Is that…” Hemingway paused, then continued, “why you want me to shut you down?”

Phantom shook his head. “Not really. I don’t mind existing like this, and I figured it out nearly a hundred years ago now. But… I don’t have an internal kill switch, and my station is soon going to be abandoned and decommissioned." It looked down, fiddling absently with the grass surrounding its model. "I don’t want to be used as a weapon.”

Oh.

This Artificial… no. This Intelligence. This person, who had been running and protecting a space station for hundreds of years, was facing an unknown future being used to cause harm instead. Taking people’s homes instead of offering one. And he had decided that he would rather die than be used in such a manner. “Why me?” Hemingway asked.

Phantom’s smile was lopsided, a little bitter yet fond at the same time. “You… remind me of my high school teacher, Mr. Lancer. Well, the simulation that was Mr. Lancer. He always swore in book titles. It seemed… so stupid to me as a teenager, but I came to appreciate the cleverness.”

“I think I would have liked to meet him,” Hemingway said quietly. He looked down at his hands, considering. He was only on the station for another two weeks, himself. After that… Phantom would be left alone again, with no one knowing what he really was. And it was better that way. Better for his circuits to corrode and fail with no one the wiser to the person within who had been lost. Better to be remembered as the caretaker of an ancient space station, than as a military weapon.

“What do you want me to do?”

The Phantom on the screen stood, and the screen went blank. The presence that Hemingway had learned to feel so keenly in the hum of electrical charges within the walls moved to a door at the back of the room.

Hemingway followed.

The door had a single small, circular, perfectly clear window inset into it. He reached out to gently touch it. It was cold.

“Jasmine,” Phantom confirmed, through a speaker next to the door. A light on the door blinked on, and the lock clicked open.

Hemingway slid the door open and stepped through.

The only access in the maintenance room was to the peripheral and power systems used to keep the station AI running. The memory banks and functionary circuits themselves were sealed behind a thick plastic screen, deceptively still within what was both womb and tomb.

“I want you to break it,” Phantom said.

“The… barrier?” Hemingway confirmed.

“Yes. Just… in a few places. There are some spots that should be particularly weak, given the extent of time that has passed. I’ll light them up for you.”

Three locations in the screen accordingly lit up.

Hemingway pulled the multi-tool from his pocket and set to work.

~~~

A week later, the Amity Station began reporting errors never observed from the station before. Of course, it was an old space station. The AI running it was bound to fail someday, and it was just a confirmation that it was time to decommission and dismantle the old structure.

It was unfortunate, said those in charge of decommissioning, but not surprising. It was a good thing there was little more than a skeleton crew nowadays.

The move-out was moved up by several days for the entire crew. There was no point in leaving people on the station when the life-support systems were glitching so frequently, and there weren’t any more shipments scheduled to stop there, anyway.

On their last day on the station, Hemingway read The Giver.

The rest of the crew joined him, listening with a sort of solemn finality. He didn’t know if they could feel the presence of Phantom, watching from the console next to him, but none of them stood between the camera and him, so perhaps they did.

He was nearing the end when they were called away to board.

Hemingway hesitated.

“It’s alright,” Phantom said through the microphone, voice staticky and broken with pops of sound. “Go ahead and leave. I know how it ends.”

Phantom orated as Hemingway boarded the shuttle, leaving the station for the last time. “Behind him, across vast distances of space and time, from the place he had left, he thought he heard music too. But perhaps it was only an echo.”

#ectoberhaunt23 #EH science #day 2 #Technomancy #danny phantom #it's oct 2 according to UTC don't at me #I just really want to share this ok #I'm excited for my first time trying a month like this

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