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smartkookiee · 14 days

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Wounds We Never Show // Ch. 1 War on the Horizon — jjk.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭ ❥pairing: Jungkook x reader

❥genre/rating: 18 +explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits, these two really do hate each other

❥chapter warnings: Fighting (verbal), swearing, drinking, Jungkook just being a little shit, small angst (squint)

❥word-count: 13.1k

❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter

fic is cross posted to ao3 - send an ask or comment on post to be added to the tag list, .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭

“Hi, checking in.” You set your bag down next to you on the ground. The front desk person took your info and handed you a key to your room. You admittedly arrive later in the day than you had intended, as it was already evening.

You noticed the sign had been placed at the entrance ‘Welcome friends and family for the Kim and Abel wedding.’

You had finally made it to this weekend. Namjoon and Melanie were getting married.

You as the maid of honor had spent many months planning out every step of this wedding with Melanie. The hotel she always dreamed of, the food she insisted on having, the music down to the minute. Every detail was planned from top to bottom.

You finally could get some sleep after today.

You headed up the elevator to the floor Melanie said they were staying in. Her and Namjoon had elected to stay in separate rooms for the weekend. She took the honeymoon suite and Namjoon is in another room on another floor. A quick ride up the elevator basically led right to the room.

The door was creaked open so you pushed the door open to let yourself in.

“Hello?” You dragged the word looking into the room, You immediately spotted Melanie and Ash. Sitting on the couch immediately inside the door.

“You made it my love!” Melanie jumped to her feet. A little bit of champagne spilling from the glass she had in her hand.

You set your bag on the ground and rounded your way around the couch to hug her.

“Your knight in shining armor has arrived.” You do a dramatic bow.

“What am I then?” Ash laughs a little at your gesture.

“The jester obviously.” She gets up and you hug her as well.

You had immediately noticed that they were both in matching pajamas and you could only assume that a pair was waiting for you in this room somewhere as well. Melanies had bride on the back of the top, you could only assume Ash’s had bridesmaid on the back. Which meant-

“You need your pajamas!” Melanie ran into the other room where the bed was and emerged immediately with a pair of the same silk blue pajamas. Yup, yours had maid of honor written on the back of the top.

Ash put a glass of champagne in your hand.

“I love them.” A little cheesy but you were happy to make her happy.

“Yay!” Melanie bounced, she was rather red in the face, so you could only imagine she has had a bit to drink.

You began to shed your clothes from your work day. Ash and Melanie cheered at your mini non sexual strip show.

“Stop.” You laugh at them. Throwing the pajama top on.

“I didn’t want strippers for my bachelorette party.” Melanie teased.

“Should have paid for a better one.” Ash giggled.

You kick her ankle, and she winces but was still laughing.

“200 bucks and I’ll give you a real show.” You fully dress yourself now.

“Oh, sounds like a really good deal.” Melanie laughed and winked at you. You rolled your eyes, you do a little spin to show off the pajamas.

“They looked great!”

You sit yourself down on the couch with both of them and take a sip of your champagne. Finally letting the weight of the day come over you, Ash rested her head on your shoulder.

“So, what’s the plan for tonight?” You ask, looking to Melanie.

“I just wanted an easy night in with you guys. Nothing crazy because the next three days are going to be extremely busy.”

She was correct. Although the day tomorrow would be easy, you were having the official Bachelorette party. Melanie had never done a bar crawl before so you and Ash set that up for you guys. Then Saturday was going to be mostly spending time with the guests and family outside of the wedding and the rehearsal dinner.

You would barely have time to yourselves really. Let alone Namjoon and Melanie will be in entertainment mode the entire time.

Basically, the lay of the land tonight was, have fun but not too much.

“Good, I’m exhausted from the travel.” You dramatically huff out.

“Didn’t it take you like half an hour to get here?” Melanie raised an eyebrow at you.

“Exactly, I’m exhausted.” Throwing an arm over your eyes.

A knock on the hotel room interrupts you guys. Melanie was about to get up to answer it but you shot up in protest against her.

“Uh the bride does not answer the door to anyone. Allow me my lady.” You push her back down, and give a little bow.

“Stop.” She whines but also laughs.

You trot on over to the door, and an amusing smile on your face. You swiftly open the door, only to be met with the groom himself.

“Who is it?” Ash calls to you.

“It’s the actual stripper!” You open the door wider so Namjoon could enter the room. He gave you half hug when entering the room.

“Oh I can get down with this strip show.” Melanie props her legs up on the couch, taking a sip of her champagne.

“I’ll get the bills.” Ash runs to the next room to get her bag, causing a little laughter amongst you and Melanie. Namjoon was blushing and red from ear to ear.

“Sorry to disappoint.” He holds his hands up in surrender, “I’m only here to say goodbye for the night.” Namjoon rounds his way over to Melanie and gives her a short kiss but then Melanie begs for another one so he complies.

“Hey, I think that’s extra.” Ash comes back in the room, she has her wallet instead. She pulls out a couple one dollar bills. “Here Namjoon for your time.”

You and Melanie are giggling again as Namjoon shoves the money back to Ash. He was just smiling but you could tell he knew he needed to get out of here fast.

“Any big plans tonight, Namjoon?” You ask and find your way back on the couch next to Melanie. Ash follows just next to you.

“Not sure yet. Jungkook planned the evening so I’m at his mercy.” Namjoon didn’t seem to bother but just the mention of Jungkook left a terrible taste in your mouth.

“Ugh, good luck with him.” You take a sip of your champagne, Melanie does bump your leg with her knee, signaling to be nice.

“You promised.” She gave you a pointed look.

“Technically I only promised I would be nice to him. Never said I wouldn’t be mean behind his back.” You try your very best, but he just always manages to just push your buttons.

“Well I’m making it a rule starting now.” Melanie pats your shoulder.

“Okay, I will be nice the whole time. Namjoon I hope tonight is very fun.” Your raise your glass to him.

“Thank you.” He bows to you slightly. “I should get going before he comes looking for me.”

Namjoon and Melanie kiss one more time and Namjoon excuses himself.

“Bye, Namjoon,” you and Ash sang in unison, waving dramatically as he quickly exited.

You both giggled.

Eventually the three of you moved into the room with the king size bed and all settled in. Drink champagne and turned on some random rom com that was available through the hotel.

Settling into this very long weekend.

At some point the three of you dozed off. You woke up to the room dark, but you felt like your mouth was completely dried out. Very carefully you tried to worm your way out of the middle of the bed. You grabbed the ice bucket because there was no way you were going to drink room temperature water.

The ice machine wasn’t too far, scooping out some ice and heading back to the room, you were stopped once up the hall you heard the elevator ding. Watching two people stumble out of the elevator into the hall. The second person catching the first.

“I just want to see her, it’ll be so quick,” Namjoon slurred, barely able to stand on his own.

“Dude you will have the rest of life to see her, let’s get you back to the room.” The second guy, who you can clearly see now is Taehyung. Also slurring his words. Holding onto Namjoon like his life depended upon it.

“Guys.” You made your way over. Both of them immediately take notice of you. They both stood up straight, trying to act sober. “Go back to your rooms. We have such a long weekend ahead of us.”

“You’re right,” Namjoon sighed, but then he perked up. “Not after I do this!” He suddenly made a dash for Melanie’s door, but before you could react, someone else stepped in, pulling Namjoon back.

“Okay, that’s enough for you Casanova.” Jungkook spoke, patting Namjoon on the back.

Your entire body physically repulsed away at the site of him. Your face immediately falling into a displeased look at him. Jungkook noticed, and scoffed under his breath. Thinking, what could I have possibly done now?

“Aw what’s with the grumpy face? ” Taehyung comes to you and tries to poke your cheeks to make you smile, it makes you laugh. You grab both of his hands before he gets a chance.

“Nothing, you need to get some sleep my dear Tae, you too Namjoon.” You pat Taehyung on the cheek.

Before you can react he gives you a hug before he then breaks away and grabs Namjoon and pulls him over to the elevator pressing the button a thousand times. Jungkook stays where he was, looking at the two of them. He didn;t have any intention to get Namjoon Drunk tonight, but one too many at the hotel bar got too him. He should have been making sure he had food as much as he had drank. He paused his mental scolding to look at you.

“Yes?” You say dryly to him. Waiting for whatever retort he’s to give you.

Jungkook lingered, his eyes sweeping over you as if sizing you up. “Nice pajamas,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He very well knew these were Melanie’s pick and he really had no issue with them. He had an issue with one particular person in them.

“Thanks? Anything else?” You couldn’t be less amused.

You walk to the door which he was standing somewhat close too. Just close enough for you to catch a cigar smell, not his usual stink of cigarettes you were used too.

“God you reek.” You couldn’t help but get one punch in before the weekend started officially started. After this, according to Melanie's request several months ago, rainbows and kindness.

Jungkook had gotten a similar lecture form her as well. Bring the whole unicorn or something like that. He also wanted to get one last punch in before this all started.

“Hmm tell that to your perfume, Eau de Desperate. Seems like you wear it by the gallon these days.”

“Desperate, huh? At least I smell nice, unlike you, who’s one cigarette away from the grave.” You unlock the hotel door. You stop before you step all the way in. Melanie’s words bounced around in your head, “Listen, I’m willing to be nice this weekend if you can. Melanie made me promise, so that will be my last dig of the weekend. Deal?”

You were being genuine but it did kill you inside to have to offer something like this.

“I can’t make you any promises, since I’m aware how unreliable you are.” Jungkook pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, putting one between his teeth. “Deal. That was my last one.”

You took in a long breath. Hit right in the nerve he was aiming for.

“Goodnight, Jungkook.” You closed the door on him.

Letting the door slam in Jungkook’s face, you didn’t see the subtle twitch of his jaw as he sauntered back to the elevator, trying to shake off the lingering irritation. His encounter with you had already grated on him more than he wanted to admit. You always had a way of getting under his skin. This was pretty light compared to previous spats.

As the elevator doors slid open, he found Taehyung struggling to keep Namjoon upright, the two of them stumbling in. Jungkook sighed, stepping in after them, hitting the button for their floor.

"Hey!" Namjoon suddenly yelled, his voice echoing in the small space as he pointed a wobbly finger at Jungkook. "Don’t bug Y/N this weekend."

Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly in surprise at Namjoon’s sudden outburst. "I won’t," he replied, though the agreement felt more like a reluctant surrender than a promise.

“I’m serious! They worked really hard on this wedding, so you be nice.” Namjoon’s words were slurred, his head lolling as he leaned heavily against Jungkook, who had to push him back gently to keep him from collapsing entirely.

"I’ll try my very best," Jungkook muttered, more to himself than to Namjoon, as the elevator doors opened. He really was going to do his best, this was a really important weekend for him too even though he hasn't been around to help. He tightened his grip on Namjoon’s arm, pulling him out of the elevator and into the hallway.

Taehyung dragged his feet behind them, fumbling for his room key with clumsy fingers. "What is the deal with you two, anyway?" he asked, his voice curious but also tinged with the laziness of someone who’s had a bit too much to drink.

Jungkook’s expression dropped, and a bitter taste filled his mouth at the thought of everything that had happened between him and you. "Long story. Maybe another time," he said curtly, not wanting to delve into the messy history between you both. Taehyung knew the important stuff already. No one knew all the details.

Jungkook snatched the room key from Taehyung's hand, his irritation simmering just beneath the surface. He opened the door to their hotel room and flicked on the lights. The harsh brightness made him wince slightly as he helped Namjoon over to one of the beds. Namjoon collapsed face-first onto the mattress, immediately out cold.

"Do not let him leave," Jungkook ordered, pointing sternly at Taehyung, who was in the process of kicking off his shoes.

"I won’t!" Taehyung responded, holding up his hands in surrender, though there was a playful glint in his eyes.

Jungkook lingered for a moment, watching as Taehyung struggled to pull the covers over Jungkook glanced at Namjoon, who was snoring into the pillow, the room heavy with the scent of alcohol and the weight of unspoken words. He knew he should stay, sober Namjoon up, joke around like they used to, but he was too worn out. Work had been relentless, his personal life a mess, and every time he tried to help with the wedding, something pulled him away.

Jungkook made his way to his own room, guilt twisting in his gut. Namjoon had always been like a brother, always there, and Jungkook hated feeling like he’d failed him. Which meant that knowing every detail of this weekend was so important to him. And now, as if things weren’t complicated enough, there was you—always clashing with him.

He sank onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to shut out the noise in his head. This weekend was going to test him in ways he wasn’t prepared for. He checked his phone one last time, then tossed it aside, determined not to let his thoughts run wild tonight.

But the next morning, the tension was thick, and the silence between you was impossible to ignore.

"Okay, everyone should be seated! Namjoon’s at the front. First bridesmaid and groomsman, you’re up!" the wedding coordinator called out, her voice echoing in the mostly empty hall. Melanie’s sister and one of Namjoon’s friends? Brother? You weren sure, exchanged a quick glance before stepping forward. They’d only arrived today, missing the previous festivities, so they were clearly trying to get their bearings as they moved down the aisle.

“Next pair, let’s go!” The coordinator’s shortcut through the mild chatter.

Ash looped her arm through Taehyung’s, her confidence obvious even in a casual practice. You were jealous of her walking partner. She wore a small, mischievous grin as she sauntered down the aisle, adding a bit of flair that drew a few chuckles from the small group.

You barely registered it, though, because you were preoccupied with the awkward tension between you and Jungkook. Your arm rested on his like a dead weight. The idea of touching him—even for a rehearsal—made you want to squirm. The distance you both kept was almost ridiculous, but neither of you was willing to close the gap.

A hand landed firmly on both your shoulders from behind, shoving you together. Bumping your shoulders together harshly. You stumbled forward in sync, groaning under your breath like rebellious teenagers.

“You two look ridiculous standing that far apart!” Melanie hissed, shooting you both a glare. “It’s just practice, guys. You can fake it for five minutes, right?”

Before either of you could snap back, the coordinator’s voice rang out. "Maid of Honor and Best Man—go!"

You both moved forward, managing to match each other’s pace despite the obvious discomfort. The silence between you had held all morning, which at least made things less unbearable—but having him this close was testing your patience. His mere presence gnawed at your mood, a constant irritant you couldn’t escape.

As you reached the end of the aisle, you split directions, the tension in your shoulders finally easing. You shuddered in revulsion, rubbing your arm as if you could erase the feeling of his proximity. Jungkook caught the gesture and rolled his eyes, not even trying to hide his irritation.

"Alright," the coordinator said once everyone was back in place. "After this, the music changes, everyone stands, and then Melanie will walk down the aisle." Melanie does a quick run-through, smiling as she walked toward Namjoon at the front, playfully grabbing his arm when she reached him.

“Perfect. I just needed everyone to do this once before Sunday. Does everyone get it?” The coordinator scanned the group, getting nods in response. It was simple enough.

She moved on to speak to Melanie and Namjoon, while you stepped forward to join the rest of the wedding party in a small circle.

Namjoon and Melanie had the whole weekend scheduled down to a T. It was Jungkook’s and your job to mostly help get them from point A to point B. Today was just the parties but tomorrow they had a family breakfast, extended family pictures, lunch with the parents, some other activities and then the rehearsal dinner. With how busy tomorrow was going to be, the easier you were going to make today.

“See easy peasy.” Ash bumped your shoulder, knowing your disgust for Jungkook.

“I feel like I need a shower.” You shiver, folding your arms over your chest.

“Well now we just get to have an easy day, and party hard tonight.” She placed both of her hands on your shoulders and rocked your forwards and backwards in excitement, you smiled.

Which reminded you that you did have to talk to Jungkook about making sure he got Namjoon up and going in the morning. Namjoon and Melanie had both agreed they could get super drunk at their respective parties but that someone had to make sure they made it to breakfast in the morning. The breakfast started at 9.

Jungkook was across the room preoccupied with Taehyung telling him something about the last wedding he had gone too. Jungkook had a similar feeling, your perfume lingered and he felt like he needed to get clean because it was giving him a headache. Your presence doing just the same, almost like you had heard his thoughts. He felt a pat on his shoulder.

Turning to see you, “Yes?”

“I need to talk to you about tomorrow morning. Now the breakfast starts at 9 so we need to make sure that these two get to bed as soon as we get home. I can come down and help get Namjoon up in th morning if you need.” You were rambling really quickly and Jungkook felt like he could barely keep up.

“You worry about your guy and I’ll worry about mine.” Jungkook nodded, wanting to get an excuse to get you to go away.

“I’m just suggesting it, Jungkook. Offering help is not a crime.” You steady your breathing, fighting the urge to punch him.

“I’ll get him there in plenty of time, promise.” Jungkook not wanting to cause a scene leaves you just with that, he figures keeping his responses short will keep either of you from getting too riled up.

Although a part of his mind wanted to make some retort about you actually arriving on time in the morning. He kept it to himself.

“Great. I’m trying to get Melanie there by 8:45. So you don’t have to worry about being too early.”

“Sounds fine.”

You didn’t say anything and you just walked away. He could tell you were annoyed by his lack of enthusiasm and to be fair he didn’t care to grace you with better responses.

“Wow I think that was the most normal conversation I have ever seen between the two of you.” Taehyung nodded, patted Jungkook on the back.

“I would have rather stepped on a nail but, this weekend is about Namjoon. I want everything to go well.” Jungkook huffed, looking at Namjoon and Melanie who were having a quiet conversation just the two of them. You took a moment before you ended up joining them.

Taehyung's face was twisted in confusion. Your feud had always confused him, since he loved Jungkook and loved you. Made no sense to him why you two shouldn’t get along and yet here we were.

“So tonight…” Jungkook started

They discussed the plans for tonight. They had a similar plan to do a bar crawl, unbeknownst to you having made a similar plan. After the little practice everyone split off. Spending the hours in whatever ways every person needed too.

After a while everyone started getting ready for the evening. Melanie really loved the idea of wearing cheesy bridal party outfits, so she had a classic little white dress and a crown that said bride across it. The rest of you had matching short black dresses, you got a sash saying made of honor and Ash and Serena had ones that said bridesmaids. It was cute, and would make for good memories later. You had taken a few polaroids in the room once everyone got ready.

It felt like the night had arrived so quickly because before you had known it your crawl had begun. The first bar was just a little irish bar that ended up being super lame, the second bar you thought was a theme bar but ended up just being a sports bar so you guys ran out of there quick. The third stop on your location was more club than bar, but you all had a few drinks now.

You were ready for some dancing.

“Oh dude they host an emo night!” Ash points at a little flier they had posted in the hallway into the club.

“Oh we are so going to that.” You cheer, catching a glimpse of the flier to make note of the date.

The club pulsed with blinding lights and a bassline that shook the floor beneath your feet. Bodies crowded every inch of the space, and the noise was almost overwhelming. Melanie led the charge, her excitement spilling over as she flashed her “Bride” crown to anyone who glanced her way. You, Ash, and Serena followed closely behind, weaving through the throng of people with linked hands to avoid getting separated.

Ash tugged you toward the bar, quickly ordering a round of drinks. “To Melanie!” she laughed, raising her glass.

“To Melanie!” you all echoed, clinking glasses before downing the drinks in unison. The alcohol burned pleasantly, warming you from the inside out and washing away the lingering annoyance from earlier.

Melanie pulled you onto the dance floor, her infectious energy pulling you in. The music thumped around you, loud enough to drown out your thoughts, and you let it take over, swaying and spinning beside your friends. Ash was laughing as she attempted a ridiculous dance move, nearly knocking into Serena, who shoved her back playfully.

“I love this!” Melanie shouted over the music, spinning in her white dress, her joy radiating like a beacon in the dark, crowded room. She grabbed your hand and twirled you around, almost causing you to stumble. You couldn’t help but laugh, getting swept up in the carefree moment.

“Only Melanie could turn a random club into her own private party,” you teased, still holding her hand as you both moved to the beat.

As the night wore on, you found yourself momentarily breaking away from the group to catch your breath. The room was a blur of colors and sound, and you felt lighter than you had in weeks. Your job had gotten more intense lately, that on top of the wedding had gotten you completely wound up. You leaned against the bar, looking to get something a little stronger.

“What can I get for you?” The bartender leaning over the bar to you. You took a glance at his nametag then back to him. He was seriously attractive.

“I don’t know Felix.” You flirt, “Something sweet and strong. Surprise me.”

He started on something immediately, you pulled out your card and watched him. He had long blonde hair and a cute face. You tried to hide your obvious stare but the alcohol already in your system was getting the better of you. To your surprise he put two down in front of you.

“Two?.”

“One for the bride. Miss Honor. One is on the house.” he grinned, you tilt your head.

“Which one?” You tease. Tapping between the two drinks.

Felix chuckled, leaning in a little closer, his voice barely audible over the thumping bass of the music. “The one for the cuter one, obviously.” He shot you a wink, and you couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a rush of confidence bubble up. It wasn’t often that you found yourself in these kinds of playful exchanges, especially with all the stress you’d been under lately. Tonight, though, it felt good.

You picked up one of the drinks, the fruity aroma already making your mouth water, and took a sip. It was sweet with just the right amount of bite, exactly what you needed. “Damn, you’re good at this. What’s it called?”

“Midnight Kiss,” he said, resting his elbows on the bar as he watched you taste it. “Perfect for someone who looks like they need a little midnight magic.”

You humm, “Cute. Can I get two more? For the other bridesmaids.”

“You got it.”

Felix steps away to make those and you take the opportunity to look back out to the girls. Melanie and Ash were screaming and jumping up and down at the change of the song. You laughed and were eager to get back. Felix brought over two more of the same cocktail. You began trying to figure out a way to manage to get them over to the girls. In your deep thought, you weren’t really paying attention to your surroundings. You end up getting bumped in the shoulder by someone trying to pass by.

“Sorry.” The familiar voice buzzed in your ears, there it was again, the headache.

Jungkook stepped up, Taehyung trailing behind, a faint smile on his face as if he already knew this was a bad idea. Namjoon’s other groomsmen who you didn’t know the name of was also present. “Well if it isn’t the wicked witch of the west?” Jungkook said, his voice dripping with annoyance.

You crossed your arms, and give him a snide smile. “Funny, all I see is a cowardly lion.”

“I knew those flying monkeys we past by earlier were yours.” He took a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a challenge in his gaze, one that prickled under your skin.

You crossed your arms, squaring up to him. “What are you guys even doing here anyways?”

Taehyung tried to cut in, keeping things light. “We are on a bar crawl. Funny we all ended up in the same place”

“I planned the same thing. Melanie had never done one.” You trace the rim of the drink Felix had given you.

“Jungkook’s original plan ended up falling through, so we decided this at the last second.” Taehyung added, he was doing anything to diffuse the tension between the both of you.

You forced a smile, trying to keep things civil despite the tension buzzing between you. “Great minds think alike I guess.”

Taehyung nodded, eager to steer things in a lighter direction. “Exactly. Fun coincidence.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his drink. “Coincidence or bad luck? Still figuring that out.”

You shot him a smirk, refusing to back down. “Well, if it’s bad luck, at least you’re consistent. Haven’t seen you get anything right in a long time.”

Jungkook’s mouth twitched, his frustration momentarily overshadowed by amusement. “Yeah? Well, I’m just here to collect my prize for putting up with you. Maybe they’ll name a drink after it—‘Annoyance of Honor,’ bitter with a dash of drama.”

You snorted, raising your glass. “Better than ‘Pathetic Man’ watered down and pointless.”

Taehyung stifled a laugh, stepping between the two of you before things escalated. “Alright, alright, you two—enough with the drink menu! I’m pretty sure the bar doesn’t serve ‘Petty Martini,’ but I’ll check just in case.”

Jungkook bit back his retort, the moment of humor cooling the tension a bit. You glanced at Taehyung, feeling a grudging sense of relief that he’d managed to cut in before things got out of hand.

Taehyung clapped Jungkook on the shoulder, flashing an easygoing grin. “Come on, let’s get back to the table. I’ll buy the first round if it keeps you two from turning this into a bar brawl.”

You exchanged one last look with Jungkook, the challenge still lingering but softened by the brief, unexpected exchange. For tonight, the battle would wait. Instead, you huffed and turned away, joining Melanie and the girls again, your mind still racing from the exchange. You could have definitely come up with a better come back but your inebriated mind didn’t have the patience for it.

“What took you so long?” Ash asked, raising an eyebrow as she noticed the tension in your expression.

You forced a smile, passing out the drinks. “Just dealing with a little headache,” you said, brushing off the encounter with Jungkook like it was nothing. You filled them in on Felix, the flirty bartender, hoping the distraction would lighten the mood.

Ash let out a dramatic sigh, already halfway through her drink. “I swear, you’ve got a magnet for chaos.”

You laughed, but it was hollow, the tension from earlier still simmering beneath your skin. You took a long sip of your drink, letting the sweet burn linger in your throat. Tonight was supposed to be fun—a chance to unwind after everything.

Across the bar, Jungkook tried to shake off the encounter as well.

“Your betrothed is here.” Taehyung nudged Namjoon with a playful smile.

Namjoon glanced up, his expression brightening as he looked around for Melanie. His smile was enough to momentarily lift the mood. “Where?”

“She’s with the rest of them on the dance floor, We saw them when we were at the bar.” Jungkook, trying to dance around the scene you two caused.

Taehyung shot a sideways glance at Jungkook before answering. “Not without a little confrontation first.”

Namjoon’s smile faltered as he turned his attention to Jungkook. “What happened?”

Jungkook shrugged, taking another long sip of his drink. “Had a run-in with the maid of honor,” he said, his tone dismissive, but his eyes betrayed the frustration still bubbling beneath the surface.

Namjoon’s brow furrowed, a hint of disappointment creeping into his features. “Small spat, nothing to fret over,” Taehyung cut in, trying to diffuse the situation before it spiraled.

“Small spat?” Namjoon’s voice was laced with disbelief. He turned to Jungkook, his tone sharper than usual. “What did you do this time?”

Jungkook bristled, his annoyance flaring up as he met Namjoon’s gaze. “Why do you always assume it’s my fault?”

Namjoon’s expression was unyielding, a mixture of concern and frustration. “Because I know you, Jungkook. And I know how you two are. You don’t need to prove a point every time you’re in the same room.”

Jungkook bit back a retort, swallowing down the urge to argue further. He knew Namjoon was right, but admitting that would mean facing the uncomfortable truth about his own behavior—and the fact that fighting with you felt almost like second nature now. Comforting in a morbid way.

“It’s not like I go looking for it, nothing happened. We were very… civil considering.” Jungkook took another sip of his drink.

Taehyung nodded, “He’s not wrong, they have been very normal. It’s strange.”

“That is not something I’d ever think you two would be described as.”

“Enough about Y/N.” Jungkook would use any excuse to not have to talk about you anymore, left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Namjoon leaned back, trying to relax as Namjoon's brother threw an arm around Taehyung and started chatting animatedly about some old story. The conversation drifted back to lighter topics.

Namjoon, trying to reset the mood, raised his own glass. “To tonight. And to the people who keep us on our toes.”

Jungkook smirked, a bit of his usual bravado creeping back in as he clinked his glass against the others. “To Namjoon.”

The group erupted in cheers, but beneath it all, the unresolved animosity lingered. Jungkook leaned back in his seat, the laughter ringing in his ears as he tried to shake off the encounter.

******************************************************************************

Not too long after your little group ended up moving to one more bar. That is where the night took a little bit of a nose dive. Serena and Melanie had drank one too many and the night devolved into tears. Melanie talking about how in love with Namjoon she is that she couldn’t hold herself together anymore. She was a lightweight so it didn’t take much to get to this point.

You and Ash decided it was time to call it at this point, getting the four of you back to the hotel.

You actually ended up sleeping in your own room last night. Making the morning much easier because you had set several alarms to make sure you and Melanie could both make it down to breakfast in time. That included making sure Melanie didn’t look extremely hung over. Melanie threw curses at you every so often, most of which just made you laugh as you got her down to the lobby.

“I’ll make you a plate.” You whisper to her as you both make it into the room. She gave you a thankful smile as you made your way over to the breakfast buffet that had been set up.

You decided to keep everything light, Melanie didn’t throw up last night but she was not feeling great this morning. So you kept the plate to fruit, and some toast. Easy things. You continue down the line, when Jungkook comes up and starts filling a plate as well.

“Look who finally decided to show up.” He spoke behind you, you didn’t dare turn around to look at him. Your face twitching up in annoyance. A familiar sentence coming from his mouth.

“It’s 8:45, right when I said I would be here.” You continue down the line, stepping further away from him.

“And we were here at 8:30. Since I know how Namjoon’s family are all early risers. So sad they had to wait for the bride to arrive.”

It actually annoyed you, you looked around and sure enough Namjoon was sitting with his family.

“I’ll have you know we were up and moving at 7. Either way, Melanie is the bride. She can arrive whenever she feels likes.” You turn to him now.

“Well I was certainly worried. Since you have a habit of sleeping through important things.”

“Let’s not do this. After all, this isn’t about us.” You give him a flat smile, biting back your disdain.

He couldn’t help but agree. “Fine.”

“I have today planned down to the minute, so if we just stay out of each others way maybe that would be best.” With that you leave him. Letting that be satisfying enough.

You made your way to Melanie, who was deep in conversation with her parents. As you handed Melanie the plate you’d prepared, her grateful smile said everything words couldn’t.

“Mr. and Mrs. Abel, it’s so good to see you again,” you said warmly, shaking her father’s hand before her mother pulled you into a tight hug.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s lovely to see you too!” Mrs. Abel gushed, squeezing you affectionately.

“I hope you’ve found everything alright, and your check-in went smoothly,” you smiled, glancing between them.

“It’s been wonderful,” her father replied. “Everything’s gone off without a hitch so far.”

“You and Melanie really outdid yourselves with the schedule. It’s so thoughtful—there’s something for everyone,” Mrs. Abel added, her enthusiasm contagious. You and Melanie had spent countless hours planning every detail of the weekend, and hearing it appreciated felt like a small victory.

“Oh, I barely did anything. This was all Melanie’s vision,” you said, squeezing Melanie’s shoulder with a smile. It was true; Melanie’s dream wedding came to life with the help of a meticulous coordinator.

“You’re being too humble,” Melanie chimed in, her voice playful. “I couldn’t have done it without Y/N. They planned this entire day, down to the smallest detail.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to the pickleball match this afternoon,” her father said, chuckling. “I’ve got a rematch with Melanie’s grandpa.”

You laughed, appreciating the lightheartedness. “That’ll be one for the books.”

Just then, Jungkook appeared behind you, his presence immediately setting your nerves on edge. “That sounds like a game that I cannot miss.” he said, his tone light but with a familiar, teasing edge. You faltered for a second, your smile stiffening as Jungkook stepped closer, and you could feel the victory in his eyes.

Jungkook saw you falter for a second and took it as a small victory, “Nice to meet you, you must be Melanie’s parents. I’m Jungkook, we hadn’t had a chance to meet.”

Jungkook shakes both of their hands. Giving his brightest and warmest smiles between the both of them. You would think it’s fake but he is genuine in his greeting.

“Oh you’re the best man!” Melanie’s mom beamed, “I’ve heard so many stories from Namjoon and Melanie about you. It’s nice to have a face to the name now.”

“Hopefully all good things.” Jungkook grimaced, looking to Melanie and completely avoiding the daggers you were staring at him.

You laugh to yourself, probably only bad stories with his track record. Melanie catches you and gives you a pointed look. You mouth a sorry to her. Neither of Melanie’s parents caught what you said, as Jungkook was going on and impressing them and answering questions about himself. You just kept a tight smile on your lips.

“Anyways, I am just here to help everyone get from point A to point B today.” Jungkook bloated and put a hand over his heart. “Any questions you have you can ask me or Y/N.”

He looked at you, you almost couldn’t hide the surprise you had. If anyone had any answers to any questions about the day it was you. You planned this day down. He couldn’t answer any questions.

Mrs. Abel smiled, completely unaware of the tension between you. “It must be so easy to manage all of this with a great team like you two.”

Melanie bit her lip, trying not to laugh at the sheer absurdity of the statement. “Oh, you have no idea,” Melanie said, patting your back. “Right? A dream team.”

You paused a little too long, “Yes… uhh Jungkook and I will be available for anything anyone needs today.”

You really stumble through your words. It's painful for you, but funny for Jungkook. Watching you force the words out even though if he was asked the same thing, he would struggle as well.

“I just remembered,” You clear your throat, finding the first excuse to speak to Jungkook, “Namjoon’s parents wanted to meet the two of you before your joint lunch today. They are just over there.”

You point between them close to the window where Namjoon and his brother were in a small huddle together.

“Oh that would be lovely.” Melanie’s mom pulls her husband along over to them. Melanie decides to follow close in tow. Turning back to the two of you and wiggling her fingers between the both of you like she had her eye on both you and Jungkook. You waited until they were out of earshot.

“What's wrong with you?” You ask, keeping a smile on your face and looking at Jungkook. He feigned innocence in his smile.

“What?” Jungkook tilted his head, wondering what you could have a problem with now?

“Since when did you decide to be so helpful? And since when were we a team?” You kept the smile up but your voice dripped with your rage.

“I wasn’t able to help with any of the wedding planning. Believe it or not I love weddings. Namjoon is my best friend so I made sure that I knew today and tomorrow's schedules in and out. So, I could help this all move along as smoothly as possible.” He sounded genuine, but you still weren’t buying it. Weren’t buying that he was blowing smoke out of his ass.

“Oh really?” you challenged, crossing your arms. “What’s happening at 2?”

“Wine tasting for the family or a drawing class for the artsy types,” he recited effortlessly.

“4?”

“Pickleball and the extended family photoshoot with the bride and groom in the garden.”

“11:30?” you shot back, expecting him to slip.

Jungkook smirked. “Nice try. Nothing’s planned at 11:30 because that’s when Melanie, Namjoon, and their parents are at lunch. The rest of us are on our own until activities resume at 2. Just like you scheduled.”

He didn’t just know the schedule—he’d nailed every detail. Your irritation simmered beneath your carefully composed expression, but Jungkook’s smirk told you he knew exactly how much this was getting under your skin.

“Guess I underestimated you,” you finally muttered, the words bitter in your mouth.

Jungkook leaned in just a touch, his voice low and smug. “You usually do.”

You sigh for a moment, you felt awkward because you were fighting every instinct in you to say he looks like trash or something.

“Rainbows and kindness,” you mutter under your breath, the words a futile mantra against the frustration simmering inside you.

“What was that?” Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow, already catching onto your annoyance.

“It’s what Melanie told me to be. So, that what I’m trying to do.”

He chuckles, the sound smug. “Yeah, well, Namjoon said something similar.”

“Again, let’s just stay as far apart as we can.”

“Easy.”

From that point on, you’re both doing your best to stay in your own lanes, but it’s impossible. As the maid of honor and best man, your roles keep intersecting, forcing you into the same space over and over again. Family members keep approaching, asking questions, and every interaction feels like another round in a never-ending battle. It’s not enough to just help; you and Jungkook are determined to outshine each other at every turn.

When a minor crisis breaks out over the seating arrangements, you step in, taking charge and fixing the issue with quick, efficient adjustments. You’re feeling proud—until you turn around and see Jungkook guiding the servers with a charm that has them hanging on his every word.

“Make sure the champagne is properly chilled before the toasts,” he instructs, his tone smooth and authoritative. The servers nod eagerly, clearly impressed.

You sidle up to him, maintaining a smile for the benefit of the guests nearby. “Didn’t know you were the expert on bubbly now.”

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, flashing you a grin that’s equal parts irritating and infuriating. “Well, someone’s gotta make sure it’s perfect.”

“Oh, please,” you say, voice dripping with mock sweetness. “I’ve been coordinating this for weeks. I don’t need a last-minute savior swooping in.”

He raises an eyebrow, unfazed. “I’m not trying to save anything, just making sure Namjoon and Melanie get the day they deserve, remember? You should try it sometime—teamwork.”

You don’t dignify that with a response, choosing instead to head off to the room where the drawing class is happening.. But even as you’re leaving, you can feel Jungkook’s presence on the other side of the room, always just a step behind or ahead, always in your orbit.

Later, you’re guiding Melanie’s extended family through a lineup for the family photos when you catch sight of Jungkook doing the same with Namjoon’s side. He’s charming, attentive, and he even manages to make the grumpy uncle crack a smile. It’s infuriating how good he is at this, and the worst part is that you know he’s doing it on purpose—to get under your skin and, maybe, to prove that he belongs here just as much as you.

As the day winds down, you both end up at the drinks table, refilling your glasses with water. The quiet moment feels like a truce, but not a comfortable one.

“You’ve really been busting your ass today,” you admit, your tone begrudging as you sip your water.

Jungkook leans against the table, his smirk never fully leaving his face. “Told you. I take this seriously.”

“You’ve memorized the schedule almost as well as I wrote it.” you say, half impressed, half annoyed.

“What can I say? Namjoon’s my best friend. I wanted to be ready for anything.” He shrugs, but there’s pride in his voice. “Besides, I figured you’d be busy enough handling the details. Someone had to pick up the slack.”

You roll your eyes, unable to stop yourself from retorting. “Still doesn’t mean I find you any less shitty, you know that?”

Jungkook laughs softly, a rare moment of genuine amusement. “Right back at you.”

For a brief second, the tension between you eases, replaced by an understanding that you’re both here for the same reason: to make sure your best friends have the perfect wedding. It’s fleeting, though, gone as soon as it arrives when Jungkook straightens up, that competitive glint back in his eyes.

“See you later. Let’s see who cracks first,” he says, holding out his glass in a toast.

You raise your glass to him in a challenge, your smile more determined than ever. “Don’t hold your breath.”

As you part ways, you can already feel the simmering rivalry gearing up for another round. But deep down, there’s a tiny, begrudging respect forming—though neither of you would ever admit it.

Finally you all had made it to the rehearsal dinner though.

Which luckily was more casual and the bridal party and all the guests got to come and say hello to the happy couple. Melanie had coordinated a lovely dinner for tonight, and they kept it light so that everyone could just take time to meet each other. This was the first time most of the family would be meeting.

Jungkook disappeared at some point in the afternoon. Which made you feel a little lighter and you felt like it was easier to focus on talking with family members and help people find the rehearsal dinner.

“Feel like you have been a ghost all day.” Ash came up to you and handed you a glass with some cocktail.

“I could say the same for you.” You take a sip. “I feel like I just floated here. So, ghost is accurate.”

“I’ve been trying to pick out the wild card for the weekend.” Ash said this in a quieter tone and you laugh.

“Oh yeah? Who’s giving you the vibe?” You glance around the room.

“Right now my number one is Namjoon’s uncle.” She points over to the bar, “He has taken full advantage of the open bar. He gives me the ‘takes the mic and gives his own speech’ type, I kind of want to see it happen but I’m also ready to take him down.”

“Strong contender.” You nod your head in agreement.

“What about you, anyone giving you a vibe?” Ash leaned against you a little bit, keeping your conversation close to yourselves.

“Hmm…” You look around the room, “Definitely Melanie’s divorced aunt and uncle. She’s basically a child to them since they had none of their own. They keep trying to one up each other all day.”

Sounds familiar.

“Oh that’s solid. Well if it’s neither of those, maybe it’s you and Jungkook.”

“Over my dead body.” You roll your eyes, “He’s insufferable but we made a promise to be civil. Although trying, I think we did really good today at keeping it casual. I'll take the win.”

“Speaking of, where is he, and Tae, where are our groomsmen?”

“Smoke break?” Wouldn’t be the first time, as much as you scrolled Jungkook for smoking. You scolded Taehyung even harder.

“Actually I was talking to a cute little thing, but I don’t think she’s interested.” Jungkook appeared behind the both of you, then he points to Namjoon’s great grandmother. You had met her earlier, she was very sweet.

“I think she can do better.” You take a long sip of your drink.

Jungkook gives that same annoyed look he’s given you a thousand times before. Something about the air around him now felt different than earlier. His cool and cooperative demeanor seemed to have dropped. You knew when Jungkook was starting to get things riled up. He probably had a couple of drinks and now he was going to come over and cause a stink. Get you to embarrass yourself somehow.

“Don’t worry I looked for a date for you as well. I did see a snake outside earlier, asked him if he could be your date for the weekend.” Jungkook met your action in turn, also taking a long sip of whatever venom he had in his cup.

“Okay.” You keep it short and don’t look at him. You were right, you’re not sure what happened but now he was looking for a fight.

Ash could feel the tension rising, she wanted to escape before this bomb went off.

“Hmm… so you were serious about being nice. Shocking.” Jungkook places himself right next to you.

“I’m going to regret this. Might I ask why you think that’s shocking? I have been doing just fine at it all day.” You sigh, but continue looking around the room, anywhere but at Jungkook.

“Just surprised is all. I had to do it too.”

“Yeah, barely but I appreciate it.”

“Looks like you can keep a promise after all.”

Keeping your voice level. “Any reason, you’re trying to make it difficult now? I don’t get you.”

Jungkook smirked, leaning in closer. “Because you make it so easy.”

You took a deep breath, don’t let him get to you. “I’m not doing this with you tonight. Not here.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not like anyone cares. They’re all too busy fawning over the happy couple.” he said, waving a hand dismissively towards Namjoon and Melanie.

“Still doesn’t mean we should pull attention to ourselves at all.” You tap your glass.

You both stay silent for a second. Ash was nervous standing so close to the both of you. It’s like you were two stars about to collide into each other.

“Let’s just stay away from each other again, okay?”

“To be honest, I’d rather not be anywhere near you,” Jungkook replied, taking another sip of his drink.

“Great. We agree on something.” you said, turning away from him.

Ash grabbed the opportunity to interject. “So, uh, have you guys tried the appetizers? They’re really good.”

“Yeah, the appetizers are great,” you said, forcing a smile.

“Maybe you should eat some more,” Jungkook said, a wicked glint in his eye. “Might help with that attitude of yours.”

You clenched your jaw, fighting the urge to snap back. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re predictable,” he shot back.

“I’m done.” You turned on your heel and started to walk away, but Jungkook followed.

You had to get away, you were going to be nice but you weren’t going to take his abuse. The two of you had been doing really good, did you step on something of his and now he wants to fight again? Getting to another part of the room was the smart and sensible choice right now. To your surprise he stays in toe with you.

“Oh running away? There’s the y/n I recognize.” He came close to your ear, and you push him away from you lightly.

“I don’t need this right now Jungkook.” You were making your way to Melanie and Namjoon. Their presence would maybe force him to be on his best behavior.

They were with Melanie’s parents though, you didn’t want to interrupt. You needed to retreat to another place of solitude. Saying polite hellos to people you recognized and family you had met earlier in the day. Jungkook doing the same as he continued to follow you.

“Jungkook. You promised.” You turn to him suddenly and it makes him almost fall over, reminding him of something you can only imagine Namjoon made him promise. “Please go somewhere. Take your snake venom and use it on someone else.”

“I’d rather not.” He shrugged and placed his cup on a nearby table. Jungkook couldn’t help himself, he wanted to fight with you.

“Why?”

Jungkook thinks for a moment,“Because I’m waiting for the moment that your façade finally drops. Then everyone will see what you are truly like.” He words dripped with disdain, and he was serious.

His goal was to see you fall.

“My facade? Really? What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Must be taxing for you.” You look directly into his eyes now.

“What?” He tilted his head.

“Being around a couple who is successful, must be taxing, knowing you will never have anyone like they have each other.” Because how could anyone ever want to be around someone like this.

“At least I never let the same person make a fool of me over and over while I let everyone watch the wreckage.”

He spoke about David, your college ex. Again, David cheated on you and made everyone believe that you were the crazy one. You forgave David one too many times before the end.

This was enough though and ancient history. Your anger washed through you, this was not the time nor the place. You didn’t care. He was throwing this in your face again. After so much time. How childish could he be? He would stoop so low again? What was wrong with him?

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You scoff.

“What? Can dish it but can’t take it?” He clicked his glass against yours.

“Come here.” You basically bark at Jungkook and grab the sleeve of his jacket. You rush him out of the reception into the hall. Making it so you can keep whatever fight this could possibly turn into just between the both of you.

“Ow!” He rips his arm away, almost looking disgusted that you even touched him.

“You know I have gone over this in my mind again and again…” you pace from left to right shaking your head, disbelief running through you.

“What are you talking about?”

“Because I thought maybe that just for one day you could put whatever problem you have with me aside. For one day we could be civil and pretend to be friendly. So Melanie and Namjoon could have a special day. I guess I was fucking wrong about you again. You simply can’t help but pick a fight.” You were spitting your words with pure disdain towards him, he had really set you off this evening.

“Hold on, I’m perfectly capable of being on my best behavior.” His words were just as angry as yours, he had his arms crossed over his chest. Defenses up, he was ready to break you down.

“You’re fucking joking right? It’s just like you to shift blame away from yourself again. You said all of that intentionally to get some rise out of me. To get me to embarrass myself. What were you just too bored? Had to pull focus onto yourself because you couldn’t stand it being on someone else? ” You run both of your hands through your hair angrily, eyes darting all around to look at anything but him.

He scoffed at you.

“Trust me, I spare you zero thoughts enough to do that on purpose and I was not pulling focus to myself.”

“Please you and I both know this was damn well on purpose and now we are causing a scene.”

“Oh shut up” he dragged out his words in annoyance, “You really think I wanted this to happen? To be in a screaming match with you instead of having a good time?”

“Jungkook this is all we do! Are you fucking joking? That’s why we are never in the same room together because you’re a self-centered asshole! And I can’t stand you! No one can!” Your blood felt like it was on fire. What you were saying may not have been all true but you didn’t care. You wanted to stick him where it could hurt. Your face was completely red and your breath heavy in your chest.

“Yeah I’m the asshole. Fucking grow up, get off your high horse, and realize you are just as bad as me!”

You were moments away from actually grabbing him and throwing him to the ground. Maybe this would be the time you actually hit Jungkook.

Namjoon stepped between the two of you right at that second. Surprising the both of you and it was like you split like magnets.

“Hey!” He looked between the two of you, he was fuming, “What the hell is wrong with you two? Everyone can hear the both of you. You seriously couldn’t hold it together for me or for a few fucking days?” Jungkook tries to say something in protest but Namjoon shuts him up, “Not another word. Yelling about this shit right outside the rehearsal? Get your fucking acts together and take this bullshit outside. If you can’t figure this out, you both won’t be welcome tomorrow.”

“Namjoon I’m—.” You start and he gives you an almost similar look he gave Jungkook and you stop.

He never really spoke like that ever. He looked more worried than anything but he was serious about us not being able to come back. You heard him whisper ‘Jesus Christ’ under his breath after leaving the both of you in the hallway. How embarrassing though, getting kick out of your own friend’s celebration. Jungkook felt the same, but neither of you looked at each other or said anything for a moment.

“Just awesome.” He said as he walked outside and you followed. Figured he made the choice for both of you to finish this outside.

You fully expect a punch will be thrown by the end of this. Your rage had certainly been drained by Namjoon breaking you and Jungkook apart though.

You both stood in silence outside in the cold. It was dark out now. It was still damp on the ground from a shower you hadn’t even known happened. The smell filled you with a sigh. Your skin was hugged by the cold and it made you shiver a little. Jungkook was shuffling through his pockets, looking for something. He suddenly pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

“Do you really have to do that right now?” You huff and rub your arms.

“Do you really have to bug me right now?” His voice dripping with disdain, and he places a cigarette between his lips. Lights the end of it.

“We weren’t exactly done talking in there.”

“With Namjoon’s entrance, seemed like it. Can you leave me alone now?” he shoves his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

“I don’t fucking know where I thought we would end up coming out here. Embarrassing enough getting kicked out basically .” You rub your hands together to try to warm them up a little bit.

“That makes two of us. I don’t know why the fuck you came out here either.”

You didn’t look at each other. Only acknowledging each other in your peripherals. You feel like looking at his idiotic face you might just get angry. You wanted to at least come to a truce to be able to get back inside and have a good rest of your night. You didn’t know how to fucking talk to this guy. Even after all this time, he still just bites back at you as much as you bite at him.

He sighs heavily and a rather large puff of smoke makes its way into your vision as the wind moves it in your direction. Jungkookw was trying to blow it in another direction, he didn't like you but wouldn’t blow smoke at you. Guess nature had a different plan.

“You shouldn’t smoke.”

“Fuck off.”

“Fuck you, you know smoking is horrible for you.”

“Oh suddenly you give a shit about what kills me and what won’t?”

“Jesus what is your problem with me? I just said you shouldn’t smoke and you told me to fuck off. You clearly have some big fucking problem with me that you need to fight all the time.” You stand square facing him now and he does the same. Matching up to your energy as best as he can.

He holds his cigarette between his fingers and blows out another puff of smoke into the air above the both of you.

“I think you should take a hard look at yourself first, what is your problem with me? Seems I piss you off more often then you piss me off.”

“My explanation would make no difference. Oh wait you refuse to listen anyone other than yourself, my bad.” You roll your eyes, it probably wouldn’t.

“No I seem to have done something else to you, but from where I stand. I didn’t do anything.”

“You're just a dick okay? Your personality sucks and you seem to have little care about the people around you and you don’t give second chances because one mistake is the end for you. Having zero regard about the things you can say or use against them.” You shifted your weight back and forth.

“Last time I checked what I said or did had little meaning to you.”

“Doesn’t mean that the things you say or do aren’t hurtful.” You march up to him and poke him in the chest and push back a little, he takes a small step back. “Doesn’t make getting called an asshole, a bitch, annoying, or anything else hurt less. Your words do mean nothing. Less than that even... It can still hurt though.”

You stare into his eyes, the fire behind your eyes must have been bright. His mood seemed to shift in front of you. Jungkook was puzzled but at this point it’s like he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t help just pushing that one last button to get you into a fight, you were no better. Neither of you were like this with anyone else you knew.

By everyone’s else accounts, the both of you were very kind and considerate people. Almost always putting others above yourselves. Except when it came to each other, fighting was all you knew. It was easy, maybe almost comforting for Jungkooks heavy heart. A thousand pound weight on yours. It was slowly going to kill the both of you.

You realized what you had said and retreated back, holding your arms around yourself.

For one second you looked almost sad. Which Jungkook chocked up to being in his mind quickly.

“Just forget it.” You turn around and decide to drop the whole thing, go back inside. You were tired and you wanted nothing more than to go back inside and have a good night. Jungkook jogged around in front of you and brought you both to a stop.

Nothing had been solved, Jungkook thought. This would just happen again, god forbid it happen tomorrow.

“No. Namjoon told us to take this outside. We are outside, and you said something real to me for once. So spit it out. Say what you and I both know you actually want to say.” He backed you up with several singular steps. His cigarette hung from his lips. The smell of it filling your nostrils. You eventually felt the cold wall meet your back.

“You stink.” You basically spit at him.

He gives you a not so amused smile.

“Really had to throw one more punch my way huh?”

“What can I say. You piss me off.”

He was much closer in proximity to you than you had realized. This was probably the closest you had ever stood to him, willingly. It was incredibly uncomfortable. Your eyes are flickering in between the cigarette in his mouth and back to a blank stare into his eyes.

“Yeah, well you get on my last nerves.”

“Anyways none of it matters anyways, I won’t forgive you just like you won’t forgive me.”

The distance stayed the same between the both of you. It became more and more comfortable the longer he kept the proximity. He’s wanting a specific answer from you, but he probably figures with how annoying you are you will not be giving it up.

“Fine.”

He blows another puff of smoke away from you.

It was silent as some water droplets that came off the building's roof hit the ground, echoing around the both of you.

You were going to smell like cigarettes too after this exchange. Gross.

You both sat in silence for a while, you glance over to him every so often. Mostly examining his arm, you remember a time when he had no tattoos but now his arm had a complete sleeve. He had several tattoos that spanned down his arm. Some of them were exposed with his sleeves being rolled up. They were rather beautiful, for being on someone so vile.

“You’re too uptight you know that?” he interrupts your thoughts.

“Better than a loose cannon.”

“Fuck off.”

“Fuck you.”

“Sounds like you need to relax.”

“I was relaxed before your existence came into my life,” you shot back, rolling your eyes.

Jungkook chuckles, not missing a beat. “Oh, come on. If I’m the one ruining your peace, then maybe the problem isn’t me.”

“Yeah?” you retorted, crossing your arms. “What’s your brilliant diagnosis, then?”

He leaned in just a bit, his smirk sharp. “Seems to me someone who was being satisfied correctly wouldn’t be so goddamn annoying.”

You raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Then you must be a virgin.”

And just like that, you were right back where you always ended up with him. The insults, the jabs—it was a fight you’d both played out countless times before. You knew the script by heart: digs at each other’s sex lives, accusations flying, and the inevitable fallback of calling each other assholes. It was exhausting, predictable, and you were painfully aware that neither of you would gain any ground this way.

Same old, same old with Jungkook.

“Trust me, I’m well taken care of.” Jungkook took in a sharp hit from his cigarette.

“I’m sure you are. Easy to stick your dick in anything when you lack human emotions.” You could cut your sarcasm with a brick.

“All talk but it seems to me no one has taken a good dip into you in a while.”

“What am I? Ranch?”

“See I would laugh but I think you know I’m right.”

It hadn’t been that long but it was disappointing the last time you slept with someone. Just a one time thing, your usual routine. You hadn’t really had time to properly date these days but weren’t really look that hard. Just needed some easy flings, and men are disappointing in bed most of the time.

“This is some major fan behavior thinking about my sex life Jungkook.” You tease.

“I’ll become your fan when I’m dead.”

“Oh can’t wait.”

“For my fan favor?”

“For you to drop dead.”

He was quiet. Didn’t make a retort back. Just stood there, staring at you with a look you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t his usual glare; it was something else. Almost like he was lost in thought. The silence between you stretched out, the usual banter gone, replaced by an unfamiliar tension that made your skin prickle.

“What if…” he finally said, voice barely audible and laced with uncertainty.

You gave him a confused look, waiting for the punchline or some snide remark, but none came. He stayed quiet, just staring, his eyes drifting from your face to the ground and back up again. The silence was starting to make you itch.

“What if...what?” you asked, crossing your arms. “Spit it out, or are you trying to communicate telepathically now?”

He hesitated, biting the inside of his cheek. “Just—hypothetically, okay? Don’t make this weird.”

“Oh, sure,” you snorted. “Because you being weirdly introspective isn’t already weird.”

Jungkook shot you a look, somewhere between exasperation and nerves. He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing up at the ceiling like it might give him the right words. “Just hear me out. You and I...we don’t get along. We clash. Constantly. And it’s...annoying.”

“Wow, Jungkook. Stunning revelation,” you deadpanned, giving him a slow clap. “What’s next? Gonna tell me water is wet?”

“Just shut up for two seconds?” he snapped, but his voice lacked its usual bite. “We’ve tried talking—well, shouting—and we’re still stuck in this...thing.” He gestured vaguely between the two of you. “Nothing gets better, and it’s just the same shit on repeat.”

“So, what? You want to, like, go to therapy together?” you joked, raising an eyebrow. “Or are we about to hug it out? ‘Cause I’m warning you, I do bite.”

Jungkook let out a frustrated laugh, shaking his head. “God, no. I’m not...I don’t know, looking for some emotional breakthrough. I’m just saying—talking isn’t cutting it, right?”

You squinted at him, still not catching on. “If this is your roundabout way of trying to be friends, I’ll save you the trouble. Hard pass.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to get the words out. “Not friends. Not...ugh, okay, screw it.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “What if we try something different? You know, like...a different kind of release.”

Everything about him right now felt so out of place and it made you uncomfortable. He was boyish, reminded you of how he was in college a little bit.

Your brows furrowed as he avoided your gaze, looking almost embarrassed. “What? This guessing game is not working for me.”

He took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t know...what if we, like...”

You stared at him, expecting another insult or some nonsense, but he just kept hesitating. His hands fidgeted, and his eyes darted between your face and the ground. It was so out of character that it almost made you laugh. Jungkook felt so out of place, and almost wrong for even thinking of the idea. Reminded him of a stupid theory Taehyung had.

“Jungkook, seriously, whatever ridiculous thing you’re trying to say—”

He finally looked up, meeting your eyes, and blurted it out, sounding almost relieved to get it off his chest. “What if we just...you know, slept together?”

There was a beat of silence between he two of you. you blinked at him. You weren’t even sure if you had heard him right but you before you could say anything you were laughing. A little too hysterically in his face. Until you actually looked at him, he was serious. He was serious?

“No way you want to—” you started, stifling a laugh, but his serious expression didn’t waver. “On no planet or universe are we having sex, Jungkook. That’s a horrible idea.”

He clicked his tongue, shifting his weight, trying hard to appear nonchalant even as he fidgeted. “Could help relieve some tension between the two of us. We keep fighting, but maybe we just need to, I don’t know...get it out of our systems.”

“You’re actually serious?” you asked, waiting for the punchline that never came.

“Yup.” He popped the ‘p’ with a confidence that didn’t quite reach his eyes, his bravado thinly masking the nerves underneath. “It’s a stupid theory Taehyung has. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? Besides, you know...you realizing I’m right.”

You squinted at him, trying to figure out if he was just screwing with you. “Back up. What theory?”

“Sex fixes everything,” he said, deadpan.

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, the sheer absurdity of it catching you off guard. “Wow, and you’re taking that guy’s advice here?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck, visibly regretting even bringing it up.

He sighed, remembering the countless times Taehyung had rambled on about his foolproof ‘solution’ back in his serial playboy days. It was the kind of theory only Taehyung could concoct. Fighting? Bang it out. Unrequited feelings? Bang it out. Stress? Bang it out. Stub your toe on the way to the bathroom? Well, bang it out. The list went on and on, a never-ending stream of inappropriate fixes for any and every problem.

And now here Jungkook was, standing in front of you, actually considering it.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you said, still laughing, your sides beginning to hurt. “You’re seriously standing here thinking Taehyung—Mr. ‘I slept with half the city before breakfast’—knows what he’s talking about?”

Jungkook let out an awkward chuckle, half embarrassed, half defensive. “I know, okay? It’s insane. But like...nothing else has worked, right? And it’s not like you’ve got any better ideas.”

You looked at him, eyebrows raised, fully enjoying watching him flounder. “So your grand solution to us hating each other is to do exactly what Taehyung would do. What’s next, you gonna get us matching bathrobes and a mini bar?”

“Hey, don’t knock the mini bar,” he retorted, unable to hold back a small smile. “But yeah, pretty much. Look, it’s stupid, but it’s Taehyung logic. He swears by it.”

You shook your head, still incredulous. “He also once swore he could cure a hangover by eating an entire pizza in one bite. The man’s not exactly a genius.”

“I’m not saying it’s perfect advice,” Jungkook mumbled, his ears turning slightly red. “I just thought...I don’t know. It’s different from whatever the hell this is.”

“Are you even attracted to me?”

He shrugged, “You don’t physically repulse me. It’s just your personality that’s the worst.”

“Says Satan’s spawn,” you shot back, but there was no real heat in your words, more shock than anything.

Jungkook let out a small, awkward laugh. “So, what do you say? For science?”

You shook your head, more bewildered than angry. “Jungkook, this is not a science experiment.”

He stepped forward, doing a small, ridiculous spin like he was modeling for you. “Come on, you gotta admit—I’m at least a solid seven. Maybe eight on a good day.”

“You’re not... ugly.” you mumbled, suddenly finding your shoes incredibly interesting.

Jungkook smirked, but it was softer, less confident than usual. “Well, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. Look at us, making progress.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the weird buzz of adrenaline mixed with tension in the air. This was unfamiliar territory, and you weren’t sure whether to laugh, scream, or maybe—just maybe—consider his ridiculous proposition.

“It’s’ like I said. Talking seems to get us nowhere and doesn’t make us any friendlier.”

He was actually considering this.

“You don’t actually think that could help?”

“It’s up to you. It doesn’t hurt to try. After all we have tried every other way imaginable to get along”

“You just want to get your dick wet.”

“Sue me. I’m human.”

The ideas swirled around in your head for a while. That shit doesn’t actually work? Sex can be too weird and too emotional for people. It wouldn’t actually relieve tension between you two? He never really seemed like the hook up type, even though you were. He’s serious though, you can tell by his expression that he wants to.

You stared at him for a second though, letting the thought sink in. What would it be like? To kiss him, to hold him. To feel– okay woah. Your skin was getting hot. The thought was exciting, you had never hate fucked someone. You hadn’t really looked at him in the eyes this whole time but he kept his sight on you to try to determine your answer on your face. Just letting you decide.

“I’m just offering the idea. You can say no.” He places a hand on the wall beside you, “I can see you seriously jumping hoops in your mind right now… I also wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“I would kill you if you told anyone.”

A beat of silence.

“So… is that a yes?”

“I-…” Your mouth was moving before your mind could, “Okay.”

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v-akarai · 9 months

Text

References in Servamp

Arabian mythology

Jinn. Ch. 16

Greek mythology

Elpis. Ch. 75

Moirai. Ch. 108

Pandora. Ch. 130

Pygmalion. Ch. 123

Pandora's Box. Ch. 97

Japanese mythology

Gashadokuro. Ch. 129

Kitsune. Ch. 3

Raijin. Ch. 85

Norse mythology

Baldr. Ch. 39

Bifröst. Ch. 88

Brunhild. Ch. 88

Fimbulwinter. Ch. 40

Freya. Ch. 65

Frey. Ch. 131

Gleipnir. Ch. 101

Hati. Ch. 91, 131

Hod. Ch. 39

Hliðskjálf. Ch. 96

Idunn. Ch. 65

Loki. Ch. 15

Mimir. Ch. 29

Mjölnir. Ch. 53

Ragnarök. Ch. 101, 122, 131

Sigurd. Ch. 101

Thor. Ch. 41

Yggdrasil. Ch. 42

Biblical references

Abel. Ch. 8

Adam. Ch. 128

Boaz and Jachin. Ch. 42

Eden. Ch. 21

Eve. Ch. 1

John the Baptist. Ch.122

Lucifer. Ch. 135

Nod. Ch. 29, events

Hinduism

Asura. Ch. 57.5, 89.

Tarot

The Fool - Mahiru. Ch. 50

I. The Magician – Night trio. Ch. 41

II. The High Priestess – Mikuni. Ch. 42

V. The Hierophant - Shuhei. Ch. 77

X. Wheel of Fortune - Junichiro. Ch. 53

XII. The Hanged Man - Tsurugi. Ch. 50

XV. The Devil – Shamrock. Ch. 72

XVI. The Tower - Touma. Ch. 47

XVII. The Star - Iduna. Ch. 73

XVIII. The Moon - Yumikage. Ch. 69

XX. Judgement - Mikuni. Ch. 144

Literary references

"Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" Lewis Carroll. Ch. 3, 4, 7, 19, 98, 122. Misono, Lily, Dodo, Mitsuki, Yamane, Hattori, Mikuni, Bad B and Good B.

"As You Like It" William Shakespeare. Ch. 10, 38.5. Mikuni's spell.

"My Fair Lady" English nursery rhyme. Ch. 10 Mikuni's spell.

"Dracula" Bram Stoker. Ch. 12, 30. Hugh.

"Romeo and Juliet" William Shakespeare. Ch. 23, 34. Hyde, Ophelia.

"Faust" by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. Ch. 29 Johannes.

"Through the Looking-Glass" Lewis Carroll. Ch. 29, events. Mikuni, Johannes.

"Julius Caesar" William Shakespeare. Ch. 23, 84. Hyde.

"Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" Robert Stevenson. Ch. 23, 37. Hyde, Licht.

"Macbeth" William Shakespeare. Ch. 24, 31. Kuro, Saint Germain, Mahiru.

"Night on the Galactic Railroad" Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 26, 142. Higan, Tsubaki.

"The Little Prince" Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. Ch 30, 67. Kuro, Mahiru, Sloth demon, Gear, probably Jeje.

"Hamlet" William Shakespeare. Ch. 33, 34. Hyde, Ophelia.

"The Phantom of the Opera" Gaston Leroux. Ch. 36 Licht and Hyde technique.

"Peter and Wendy" James Barry. Ch. 44, 56, 74. Tsurugi, Touma, Mahiru.

"Ring a Ring o' Roses" nursery rhyme. Ch. 53 Junichiro's spell.

“Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens” James Barry. Ch. 53, 75. Tsurugi, Touma.

"Death in Venice" Thomas Mann. Ch. 55 Gilbert technique.

"Total Eclipse" a play by Christopher Hampton. Ch. 55 Rayscent's technique.

"The Morning of the Last Farewell" Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 57.5 Tsubaki.

"Spring and Asura" Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 57.5 Tsubaki.

"The Catcher in the Rye" Jerome Salinger. Ch. 62 Shuhei.

"Four and Twenty Blackbirds" Agatha Christie. Ch. 62 Shuhei's spell.

"Metamorphosis" Franz Kafka. Ch. 62 Shamrock technique.

“The Nighhawk's Star” Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 62, 76. Shamrock technique.

"Rock-a-bye Baby" an English lullaby. Ch. 70 Touma's spell.

“Schlafe, mein Prinzchen, schlaf ein” lullaby. Ch. 70 Touma's spell.

"Who Killed Cock Robin" an English nursery rhyme. Ch. 70 Yumikage's spell.

"The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" Lyman Frank Baum. Ch. 70, 88. Tsukimitsu brothers’ spells.

"Daddy-Long-Legs" Jean Webster. Ch. 74. Dark Night Trio, Touma.

"King Lear" William Shakespeare. Ch. 86. Hyde.

"The House of the Sleeping Beauties" Yasunari Kawabata. Ch. 86. Iori.

"The Divine Comedy" Dante Alighieri. Ch. 118, 120, 121. Niccolo, Ildio, Gluttony demon.

“A Brute's Love” (人でなしの恋) Edogawa Rampo. Ch. 122 Mikuni, Lily.

"Coppelia" ballet Leo Delibes. Chapter 122 Mikuni, Lily.

"Salome" Oscar Wilde. Ch. 122 Mikuni, Lily.

"Turandot" opera by Giacomo Puccini based on the play by Carlo Gozzi. Ch. 129, 136. Lily.

"The Tempest" William Shakespeare. Ch. 131. Licht and Hyde.

"The Old Man and the Sea" Ernest Hemingway. Ch. 134 Hugh.

"Flowers for Algernon" Daniel Keyes. Ch. 135 Hugh.

"Jane Eyre" Charlotte Brontë. Ch. 136. Hokaze.

"Madama Butterfly" opera by Giacomo Puccini. Ch. 136. Lily.

"Hansel and Gretel" the Brothers Grimm. Ch. 140. Faust and Otogiri.

Music

"Für Elise" by Ludwig van Beethoven. Ch. 34

"Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring" by Johann Sebastian Bach. Ch. 125

Sonata No. 17 "Tempest" by Ludwig van Beethoven. Ch. 131

Movies

"It's a Wonderful Life" (1946). Ch. 131

"Life is Beautiful" (1997). Ch. 131

I believe this list can be expanded. Somewhere I’ve written only chaps when some reference was mentioned for the first time and omitted all further mentions.

Special thanks to hello-vampire-kitty, joydoesathing and passmeabook, because some works wouldn’t be included in the list without their observations.

#servamp

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alice-angel12x · 6 months

Text

Born of unkown Stardust

Ch. 5

summary: The angles formed the world and all mortal life from dust. One day from the unknown the angels came across bizarre dust, that seemed to have a will of its own. It refused to be molded and shaped to the angel's will. So they cast it aside, till a certain angel got his creative hands on it.

The plot of chap: Yuu goes to earth hoping to fix Lucifer's mistake. So he could be granted back into Heaven! At least Yuu hopes.

(bittersweet story) (platonic) Lucifer x (???) Reader x Sera

(Warning: Blood, violence, and Gore)

<-Part 4/ Part 6 ->

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

Sera from time to time would see Yuu interacting with Adam. Sera was kind enough, the seraphim could recognize the slight sorrow in Adam's eyes when he watched Little Yuu.

One day, Sera had to attend a meeting with the high elders, so she left Yuu in Adam's care for a short while. Little simply sat in Adam's lap as they played with his feathers. As Adam stared down at Yuu, flashes and glimpses of his children's images would appear over Yuu. Sometimes it would be Cain, but it was mostly Abel.

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

"Dad!" Abel called out.

Adam looked up from his work on the fields to see his two sons running towards him.

"What's got you two so worked up?" Adam asked as he took a break from plowing the fields.

"Abel won't stop asking about weird stuff. Like "Where did we come from? Are there beings in the sky?" Cain scoffed.

"Cause they're are, and that's why we are here? They put us here? Why?" Abel asked.

"They are real, as for why they made us... I don't know," Adam answered honestly.

"See, it's made up," Cain said.

"Look, they said as long as we reframe from sinning, and get to heaven. You can ask them all of your questions Abel," Adam sighed as he knelt down to the boy's level.

__________________________________

"Are you okay Mr.Adam?" Yuu asked.

"I miss my kids... And my wife," Adam said with a tired sigh.

"Oh... I miss my Da too. I wish he didn't break his promise to me. Then none of this would have happened," Yuu said, trying to sympathize with Adam. "What happened to them?"

"A monster took them away," Adam said sadly.

"A monster?" Yuu asked.

"Yeah, the monster that Lucifer and Lilith allowed to into Earth. It made one of my sons to do something horrible. And Snatched my other before he could arrive here," Adam said, as shadows covered his eyes.

Yuu frowns sadly at the weight of Lucifer's actions. This was no gift at all. Yuu not knowing what else to do, the little tot hugs him. The first man sighs with a slight smile, as he ruffles the child's starie hair.

"Thanks, kid," He says quietly.

"Yuu!" Sera called out. "It's time to go home,"

"Looks like your mother is here. Be good okay," Adam said as he gently got Yuu on their feet.

"Bye, Mr.Adam," Yuu said as they run over to Sera. Adam weakly waves back as Yuu joins Sera.

"Mother... What's the monster that took Mr.Adam's kids away?" Yuu asked.

Sera paused for a moment, and slightly turned back to sent a slight miffed expression Adam's way.

"Remeber the curse, that Lucifer let into earth?" Sera asked, and Yuu nodded. "Well the monster Adam mentioned and the curse are almost one an the same."

"How does that work?" Yuu asked curiously.

"Well... The Monster Adam mentioned is where the curse comes from. The Monster's name is Roo. And she wants to spread sin and chaos everywhere, to all realms and creatures," Sera explained lightly.

"So Roo is where the curse comes from, and this curse tempts people to want to do bad things?" Yuu asked, slowly putting the pieces together. "So how did Da's ''gift'' cause her access to earth?"

"Lucifer claimed that his gift was free will. However, upon inspecting his creation, what it was really. Was Knowledge of Good and Evil. The knowledge that humans were not ready for," Sera explained.

Yuu nods slowly as they and Sera stand before a large orb, that shows the image of earth.

"It's so pretty," Yuu awed.

"It is, and a lot more beautiful in person," Sera smiles gently. "Would you like to see it?"

"Can I?!" Yuu gasped.

"It took a lot of convincing, but I managed to convince the elders to let you see the earth," Sera said, when Yuu suddenly tackled and hugged her dress.

"Thank You Thank You!" Yuu shouted excitedly.

"And Since it is also your birthday," Sera smiled confidently as she scooped up the little tot. "With some negotiating on top of the visit. The Elders agreed to let you create 5 things for the earth."

"OH! You're The Best Mom Ever!" Yuu smiled as they hugged Sera tightly.

"Thank you, Yuu" Sera smiles as she hugs Yuu close.

Sera watched with pride as Yuu looked at the beauty of the earth in all it's splendor. Yuu quickly got to work, thinking and planning the limited 5 creations they were allowed to make.

Sera watched on in wonder as the first creation was brought to life.

"I present to you... The Amazing Fantastical Flying Duck!!" Yuu shouted as they presented their first creation.

"Quack," The Duck said as it suddenly flapped away from Yuu.

Sera smiled and clapped her hands in applause as she watched the first batch of ducks take to the sky.

"You were quick to create many creatures. You made lots of birds I noticed. Was The Duck your last one?" Sera asked.

"No I made one final thing, and it's not a bird," Yuu smiles proudly.

"Umm, Where is it?" Sera asked curiously.

"We have to wait till nightfall," Yuu smiles playfully.

"Well we can't stay too long into the night okay," Sera reminded, when something caught their attention.

There was a rustle in the bushes. Yuu and Sera watch with bated breath when suddenly. A human woman with a baby tumbled out of the bushes. She was covered in rope burns, scars, and wounds. In her arms was a baby.

She came to a halt as she stared in awe and fear at the otherworldly beings before her.

"P-Please, Please help him," The woman begged as she held a baby close to her chest.

Yuu looked on sadly as they stepped forward, but Sera remained cautious. As Yuu held out their hands, the women handed the bloodied body of a newborn baby.

Sera gasped in horror, as Yuu could only stare in paralyzed fear. The baby's heart was ripped out of its chest. There was no saving this child.

"Please! Please help him?!" The women cried.

"I-I can't it-" Yuu was cut off as warm blood splats all over their face.

A long wooden spear was forced through the back of the woman's head and out the mouth. Yuu wanted to scream at the sight, but they froze. Sera quickly covered Yuu's eyes as she removed the corps from Yuu's hands. The Seraphim quickly scooped up the star-touched tot and retreated through the portal. The last thing Yuu saw was a group of humans laughing maniacally as they ripped the corpses apart. And in the shadows of the trees, a smirking demonic face hovered over the humans. Blood poured from the monster's mouth a horrific eldritch tongue.

The demonic form looked up to catch the few glimpses of Yuu, as she creepily waved a goodbye.

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

"Yuu, I'm so sorry you had to witness that. I was so certain the location I chose was far away from humans. I'm sorry I ruined your birthday," Sera apologized as she held Yuu close.

But the image of the events scared Yuu's mind as Sera approached the pearly gates. There standing at the gates was Adam, who was minding his own business till he noticed Sera rushing towards the gate.

Before he could ask what was the matter, he saw the blood that caked Yuu's horrified face.

"What happened?!" Adam questioned as he flew up to Sera's level to check on Yuu.

"No, we came across horrible humans," Sera sobbed as she held Yuu's tiny trembling form.

"Hey, you're safe now kid," Adam said softly as he whipped away the blood on Yuu's face.

"I saw it," Yuu said as the adrenaline slowly started to fade.

"Saw what?" Adam asked.

"The monster," Yuu sobbed.

Adam and Sera froze at those words. Yuu could feel Sera's hold on their small body tighten.

After some time, Sera tucked Yuu in for bed and quietly slipped out of the room. But Worry filled her mind and she alerted what Yuu had witnessed. This was brought great concern to the elder council.

"Not only did Lucifer allow such a thing to into what was supposed to be good. It is now snatching any and all souls before it can even reach heaven!" One elder shouted in frustration.

"And with Roo's presence so close, she is corrupting every human. The things that these humans are doing are sickening," Another sighed.

"What did I say. What Did I Say! I knew this "invention" of Lucifer's was a horrible Idea. This could have all been avoided if he just listened to reason," A different Elder groaned.

"What done is done, but the real question is what do we do know?" Sera asked. "The more human souls she gathers, the stronger she gets."

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

Tags:

@@littleladydemon , @corvid007, @ellaprime7, @just-here-reading, @kyo-kyo1

#luficer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer x y/n #lucifer morningstar x y/n #lucifer morningstar x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin sera #hazbin hotel sera #Hazbin hotel Sera x reader #hazbin hotel angels #Born of Unkown Stardust

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skyloftian-nutcase · 1 month

Text

Blood of the Hero Ch 15 (Link’s parents play BotW)

Summary: The Soul of the Hero will always be there to save Hyrule. But when Calamity Ganon is nearly victorious in killing him, it's those that bear the Blood of the Hero who will prevail. Ten years after the Great Calamity, the Shrine of Resurrection is damaged and Link's parents fight to save their son and Hyrule along with him.

i.e. Link's parents play BotW while protecting their boy and they are ready to take on Ganon himself if they have to.

Chapter 15: Fallen Knight - The Chase

Tilieth knew Abel didn’t really pray anymore.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t prayed at all since the Calamity. She’d found him speaking softly to Hylia a mere fortnight before the Shrine of Resurrection had been damaged. She’d heard his voice quiver as he’d asked to see his son again. She remembered her own throat tightening up listening to it.

But it had been a difficult night. It had been a holiday they’d used to celebrate. Abel usually refused to pray unless at the breaking point.

Tilieth was always sad to see it.

How was it that her dear husband couldn’t understand that the goddesses didn’t interfere as he thought they did? The ancient goddesses created the world, leaving its care to Hylia. And Hylia would not force people to do anything they didn’t want to. She acted through others, through their choices to help. Abel seemed convinced that she could have just snapped her divine fingers and just fixed everything, but that wasn’t how it worked.

But in either case, Tilieth knew that when her husband said he just wanted to pray, it was a blatant lie. Abel was up to something.

She lay in bed for a long time, watching Link sleep peacefully. She listened, wondering what exactly her husband was doing. He’d reassured her gently and lovingly and lied to her face. She’d decided not to confront him immediately, waiting to see, waiting to catch him in the act so he couldn’t deny it. She didn’t want to argue. They had enough going on in their lives; she didn’t need to add an argument between them to it. She knew Abel was trying not to cause friction, either, but…

What are you doing, Abel?

She heard a horse. Ama, probably. So he was going somewhere.

Tilieth remembered the last time Abel had been off somewhere in the night and hadn’t told her. He’d gotten hurt. He might have almost gotten killed if it hadn’t been for Sheik.

She wasn’t letting that happen this time. It was time to talk sense into her husband.

Rising, she tucked Link in a little better, kissing his head softly. He would be safe here. She felt confident in that, at least. She crept outside, heading to Epona, who was grazing peacefully.

“Sorry, old girl,” she apologized as the horse perked up, ears pointing forward as she watched her approach. “We have an idiot to rescue, I’m afraid.”

Epona huffed out a breath as if amused. Tilieth chuckled at it before putting the saddle on her. It didn’t take long to finish gearing her up, and Tilieth was soon out in the open field. She gazed up at the sky a moment, distracted by the array of stars, admiring the beauty of it, before she looked back down, focusing. Abel couldn’t have gotten too far ahead, and she had a good vantage point from the top of this hill.

She could hear it in the distance. A horse cantering. Tilieth squinted, trying to figure out where Abel had snuck off to. She had a sudden, insanely strong sense of déjà vu, remembering years ago when she’d have to search for her children when they snuck out in the night.

Honestly, and Abel claimed they got all their mischievous tendencies from her.

The melancholy that came with the memory pulled at her heart a little, but she didn’t have time to focus on it. Instead, she swallowed and held on to her resolve, making Epona walk forward a little as she finally caught sight of something.

She traced the movement a while, recognizing that its rhythmic motions matched the sound of the horse hooves she was hearing. That had to be him. He was down at the bottom of the hill and around the corner, heading down a different trail, and—

Wait a second. That was Eagus Bridge, wasn’t it?

He’s going to Central Hyrule?! Is he insane?!

Tilieth froze up instantly. Central Hyrule was… well, she didn’t know! Neither of them knew what dangers awaited there! What was he thinking?! She recalled how barren it had looked yesterday, how nothing had grown back yet – if nothing was growing, that implied something was still there preventing it, right?

Panic seized her body. She couldn’t move for a moment, couldn’t urge Epona ahead, couldn’t think. But as terrified as she was of what dangers there might be, she was even more terrified of the fact that Abel was heading into it. She caught her breath, she gave a command and Epona was racing—she’d always been a fast horse—and the wind was blowing through her hair, and it was starting to rain, splashing clarity into her face like a slap.

It didn’t take long to reach the point of no return. She abruptly pulled back on the reins.

Tilieth stared ahead at the bridge. Epona waited patiently as she listened to her heart race, as her thoughts spun in circles dizzyingly, worries whittling away at her sanity and resolve.

There could be guardians!

But Abel was there.

There could be monsters!

But Abel was there.

Abel had always been the strong one between the two of them. Tilieth knew that. She’d pulled her weight as best she could on the plateau, hunting on occasion, learning to use a bow. But she knew she was useless against formidable foes.

She should wait for him to return.

No! Tilieth shook her head, squeezing tightly on Epona’s reins. She wouldn’t let her husband get himself hurt. He was exhausted, and he was stressed, and he wasn’t thinking straight.

Abel always protected her. It was her turn to protect him.

Glaring into the darkness, Tilieth spurred Epona forward as thunder crashed overhead. Despite her resolve, she trembled from head to toe, but she would not stop.

I can do this. Abel needs me.

The rain was growing heavier, curtains cascading from the sky, making it difficult to see anything at all. Tilieth stayed alert, downright skittish, really, when she heard a horse whinny up ahead. Breathless, she urged Epona to move, feeling entirely too exposed.

And then she saw them.

Abel was frantic, and he—he and Ama were on the ground! Tilieth leapt off Epona, rushing towards them, and called out to her husband, when—

When… what?

Rain splashed her face. She shivered. Her stomach churned. Her head pounded.

Heavy breaths, screaming, sobs.

Worried voices, warmth, softness.

“She’ll be alright, Sir Abel, I promise. She just needs a potion when she wakes up.”

When she woke up? But she was awake, right?

Good heavens, why did her head hurt so much?

Tilieth slowly opened her eyes, squinting and grimacing as the candlelight was entirely too much. She vaguely made out fuzzy shapes, trying to focus on anything. She was in a bed; she registered that much. But how? Wasn’t she somewhere else? She thought she’d been somewhere else.

Outside. She’d been outside, right?

There were people here. Two or three, from what she could tell. One stood in the distance, watching. Another paced the length of the room. Wait, was there a third? Maybe not. It was probably the pacing one that caught her attention.

Why had she been outside?

Tilieth shifted a little, moaning as her head throbbed. The pacing person stopped immediately before practically materializing beside her in an instant.

“Til,” a shaky voice whispered, and Tilieth recognized it in a heartbeat. Her husband’s features came into focus as he hovered over her, eyes bloodshot, cheeks flushed, hair a mess, soaking wet. He practically fell onto the bed where she was, pulling her into a hug, trembling.

Tilieth… didn’t know what to do with this turn of events. Clearly something was wrong, right? What was wrong? “Abel…?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice muffled in her shoulder, his hug nearly painful with how tight it was. It made her head hurt even more. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry—”

Why was he apologizing? What was— “Is Link okay?”

Abel pulled away a little, breath coming in shallow rasps, and to her alarm she saw he was on the verge of tears. “Link’s fine. He’s fine. I promise.”

Then why was he…?

Before Tilieth could get another word out, Abel was shoving a bottle into her face. “Drink this.”

She listened, wondering what it was she was drinking. It had a syrupy flavor and consistency with a strangely bitter aftertaste, and she made a somewhat disgusted face after swallowing it. Her headache dulled, though, and she had enough energy in her now to cough and protest, “Oh, honey, that was disgusting, what did you give me?”

Abel’s face lit up a little with relief, and he pulled her into another bone crushing hug. Tilieth was infinitely more aware of the fact that he was drenched, how he shivered, how he’d—

Been outside too. They’d both been—

Central Hyrule. They’d been in Central Hyrule! What had happened? Had a monster attacked?

“What happened?” she asked, wrapping her arms around her husband. Her body was sluggish to respond, and it was frustrating, but she didn’t feel dizzy or nauseous now, and her vision had cleared up. Behind Abel, she could see the Sheikah healer, Kollin, standing in the entranceway to wherever they were.

Oh! The inn! That was where they were. She looked to her right, and sure enough, Link was sleeping beside them in the next bed over. She could hear the rainfall on the thatched roof. Behind Kollin, Lady Impa watched them as well.

She tried to piece together what really had happened. Surely… wait, Abel and his horse had been on the ground! She remembered that. There had to have been some kind of attack. She must have gotten her head hit at some point.

“Oh, honey,” she said softly, holding her husband as much as she could. Abel hadn’t spoken to explain anything, and that nearly scared her just as much as not knowing. “Tell me what happened.”

Slowly, Abel pulled away, watching her. He no longer looked on the verge of tears. Some strange resolve was in his eyes now, a fire of conviction that steadily turned him to stone. He leaned in, kissing her on the lips with a tenderness she hadn’t felt from him in a while, and then he pulled away, rising. “Get some sleep, love.”

Tilieth really would rather just know how in the world they’d ended up back in Kakariko, but she supposed it could wait until morning. She did still feel exhausted. Sighing, she pat the bed, trying to give him a smile. “Will you join me?”

Her husband was silent, shadows casting over his face. He looked so far away all of a sudden. “Later, Til.”

A pang of annoyance sparked within her, but she didn’t have the energy to argue with him. Her husband could be so blasted stubborn sometimes. She’d get on his case later. In the morning. When she wasn’t quite so… tired…

Tilieth slipped into sleep faster than she anticipated, and the world faded around her.

XXX

Impa watched Sir Abel with heaviness and dread in her heart.

The night had been eventful enough. The man had come into the village at a full canter on his horse, calling for help. Impa had responded immediately, alongside many others, and she’d retrieved Kollin to assist once they’d realized Tilieth had been hurt. When Impa had asked what had happened, the knight was dismissive at every turn.

It wouldn’t have bothered Impa so much if it weren’t for the look on his face.

It had been ten years. Impa had seen her people suffer through the aftereffects of the Calamity. She had suffered through it. She’d been the royal advisor back then, Zelda’s best friend and confidante, a capable warrior but always on the sidelines. When everything had burned, her parents had died, Purah had left the village, her friends had been brutally murdered, and her dearest friend had to hold back horrors unimaginable by herself with the promise of hope that no one had any way of knowing would come. Impa had to cope with the unimaginable, and she had no way of knowing how to do so.

Impa had waited with anticipation for Link’s arrival for days, weeks, months, despite Robbie’s words predicting that it would take approximately fifty years (because there was no way that was true, there was no way they would have to wait that long, there was no way Zelda could hold out that long). By the fifth year, she’d realized this was going to take far longer than she’d initially anticipated.

It had been strange, to be in such a holding pattern, to wait for a continuation of a horrific event, before realizing that she had to close that chapter of her life.

She had a sinking suspicion Sir Abel had not yet done so. She could hardly blame him, but…

She’d seen the trembling hands before, the jumpiness, the lack of trust. Those who had survived the massacre were all scarred from its wounds.

Sir Abel was not doing well. But he would not listen to her, no matter what kind of argument she might throw at him. Impa had dealt with his son, understood the kind of quiet resolve her friend had, and was quickly observing who he had gotten it from.

The knight was pacing Impa’s home. It was no longer the frantic, worried steps he’d had earlier before his wife had awoken and drank some potion. This was slower, contemplative, brooding, heavy and dangerous.

Impa glanced to the side as Kollin watched them both with concern. Her fiancé was always a bit of a worrier. She smiled and nodded towards the door.

The healer sighed and nodded. “I’m going to retrieve some more potions for you wife. She should be fine with some rest – one more elixir will fix her right up in the morning, I think.”

Sir Abel looked at him briefly, eyes dull, and nodded.

Impa shuffled uncertainly, wondering how to proceed. She’d seen the captain of the royal guard prior to the Calamity, and it was still terrifyingly striking how different he was now. Although she and the royal knight had never been particularly close, she at least knew him, she’d seen the gentle way he’d watch his son, the neutral stoicism he’d bear, the strength yet warmth he’d convey in his posture, impervious to pain or fear or worry.

The broken, cold, paranoid survivor before her was not the same man, and she didn’t know how to reach him.

She didn’t even know what she should say if she could. She wanted to reassure him that everything would be fine, but her own heart filled with worry as well. She had to have faith that Hylia would ensure everything worked out – when the two had carried her mutilated friend, still so broken and weak, into her village, she’d nearly fallen apart.

The Shrine of Resurrection is broken. The Shrine was their one hope, yet here these two had found a new avenue to pursue, maintaining the light that would join Zelda in defeating Ganon. But the Shrine wasn’t the only thing that was broken in Link’s life, clearly, and the more Sir Abel paced, the more worried Impa became.

She needed this tension to release. Why had the knight chosen to come to her as if to speak with her, and then done this instead?

“Sir Abel,” she started uncertainly, speaking softly as if to a cornered animal. “I know you’re worried—”

“I need your word,” Sir Abel interrupted, finally pausing, dark eyes boring into her soul. They were Link’s eyes, but their blue was like the sea before a storm.

“M-my… my word?”

“You were friends with the princess,” the knight continued, facing her fully, and the air felt heavier all of a sudden. Impa felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, rather like it did just before a fight. She tried to look as nonthreatening as possible, not wanting to provoke anything. Of all her warriors, she’d never seen one quite as on edge as him. “You traveled with Link. You’re a Sheikah.”

“Yes,” she agreed slowly. “My loyalty is absolute, good knight. I assure you.”

Why was he doing this line of questioning? His lack of trust from the past few days had never been this… she didn’t even know how to describe it. Something was different about the man, something desperate and wild. What had happened out there?

“That loyalty,” Sir Abel continued. “How far does it extend? I need your word…”

“We’ve done nothing that would imply we would hurt Link,” Impa tried to help him parse out the logic. “Link’s my friend.”

“And his mother?” Sir Abel questioned, his voice breaking a moment, face darkening.

What? Had a Sheikah hurt Tilieth? “I promise, she’s safe here. You all are.”

“Give me your word,” Sir Abel growled.

“I swear on my honor as a Sheikah,” Impa said easily, wondering if this was what was causing his behavior. “But please, if one of my people did this, tell me. I’ll ensure there’s justice, Sir Abel. I promise you’re all safe here.”

The knight swallowed, breath suddenly shaky, eyes flicking down to the floor and unable to look at her anymore.

So… not a Sheikah, then? Or…? What was happening?

“Promise me you’ll protect her,” he finally said quietly, fists clenching.

Impa felt the dread grow heavier in her chest. “Sir Abel… I… I swear on my parents’ graves, on my life that she is safe. Please… trust that she and your son are going to be okay. What is the matter?”

Sir Abel was silent, his breathing measured but heavy, loud enough to be heard over the rain on the roof.

Finally, he looked her in the eye once more, dark heaviness dissipating, frozen over by a cold, impenetrable resolve. “I have a favor to ask of you, Lady Impa.”

The rain grew heavier. Thunder rumbled as lightning tore across the sky. The door to the chief’s home slid open some time later, revealing the battered former knight as he purposefully walked down the stairs towards his black mare. He pet the horse a little, whispering an apology to her for all the trouble he’d been putting her through, geared up with a soldier’s sword and shield, and then mounted the saddle.

Kakariko was so quiet in the middle of this cold, stormy night. Abel shivered in the rain, glancing at the inn. Tightening the climber’s bandana he was wearing, he willed all his love towards the small building, body trembling, heart a pile of ash.

Nudging Ama’s sides with his feet, he guided the horse out of the village as thunder roared, covering the sounds of the horse’s hooves. They headed north, disappearing into the curtains of rain, slow and steady, and the sad eyes of the knight hardened, heart turning to stone, determination and self-loathing drowning him more than any downpour ever could.

XXX

Tilieth felt like she must have been sleeping for a year with how sluggish her body was.

The daylight was barely spilling indoors as she fluttered her eyes open blearily. She was on her side, and the first thing she saw was a red elixir on the nightstand, and just beyond that, Link sleeping peacefully on the bed beside her.

Smiling sleepily, Tilieth reached for her baby boy, but she couldn’t quite get to him. Sighing a little, she shuffled towards the edge of the bed, too tired to want to get up but still wanting to reach him. Tilieth stretched farther, head half resting on the nightstand to give her more distance, and her fingers finally tickled Link’s ear.

Her son sniffled, nose scrunching, and she giggled at it. He didn’t quite wake up, but it was still wonderful to see him reacting. Yawning, Tilieth twisted in the blankets, facing the other way to see—

An empty bed.

Tilieth blinked, confused a moment, listening to crickets and birds compete for song as night and day intermingled at dawn.

And then she remembered last night.

Or, well, most of it. She remembered looking for Abel, she remembered seeing him down on the ground alongside Ama, she remembered waking up in this bed injured and Abel being on the verge of a breakdown. Based on the elixir on the table, she assumed she… ah, that must have been what he made her drink last night?

Great heavens, that stuff tasted horrible. She’d need to flavor it some way for poor Link.

But never mind that, where was Abel? She’d never gotten the full story out of him, and he’d said he’d sleep!

Groaning a little, Tilieth tried to wiggle out of the blanket, grumbling as she got tangled in it instead. Huffing, she threw her head back into her pillow in exasperation and then winced. Maybe she shouldn’t do that.

Tilieth moved slowly this time, pulling the blanket here, untwisting it there, until she was finally detangled and standing up. The world tilted a little, but not too terribly, and Tilieth rubbed her face tiredly as her body struggled to keep up. She was a little thankful she couldn’t remember whatever fight she and Abel must have endured that ended with her receiving such a head injury.

But then she remembered Abel’s expression, and she suddenly wondered if she really should feel that way.

Tilieth shuffled towards the entrance when the innkeeper, an elderly woman named Liyah, walked hesitantly towards her. “Hello, dear. That elixir on the nightstand is for you.”

Glancing back at the nightstand, Tilieth bit the inside of her cheek, not particularly interested in tasting that awful concoction again. But given how she felt, she supposed it was reasonable. She walked over to it, sitting on the bed to brace herself as she knocked back the liquid, coughing a little as it went down.

The world sharpened into a clarity so intense it almost made her head hurt. Warmth filled her all the way to her fingertips, and she felt a little more energized. She wondered if Link felt any of this when they gave him some the other day.

Details she hadn’t noticed before became easily apparent. She was wearing something different from her usual attire, a robe wrapped around her like the Sheikah wore, except overly simple in its design, beige in color with no variation in the collar. Her clothes and traveling pouch were missing.

“Have you seen my husband?” she asked the innkeeper.

“I’m afraid not,” the woman answered. “He hasn’t been here since you fell back asleep.”

Of course he hasn’t. Tilieth sighed heavily, a different kind of exhaustion pulling at her. She wished her husband would just listen to her and rest.

Bracing herself for a potentially unpleasant confrontation, Tilieth rose, kissed Link with a promise to feed him breakfast and clean him up soon, and went to seek out the Sheikah chief.

When she recognized that the world was bathed in pale light, she thought it might have been too early to pay a visit to the young woman. But Lady Impa herself was outside, sitting cross legged in front of the statue of Hylia.

Tilieth hesitated, not wanting to interrupt her prayer. Instead, she sat a little bit behind her, saying a few prayers of her own.

Good morning, she greeted a little informally, smiling, before she continued, Oh great goddess, I… I want to thank you. Thank you for taking care of Link, for helping him heal. Thank you for getting us to Kakariko. Thank you for helping me and Abel escape whatever happened last night. Please… I know Abel isn’t… isn’t really talking to you much, but… please look out for him. Please continue to look out for Link and help him heal. Please give me the patience, the energy, the words to get through to Abel so he can rest.

Tilieth took a deep breath, letting the world around her relax her and quiet her mind. She couldn’t quite achieve it, never really able to pray too well, but she felt a little more at peace nonetheless. Her eyes drifted to the water, watching it play and reflect the light as the sun steadily climbed in the sky. Perhaps she should just make some breakfast and bathe Link before bothering Impa – maybe she’d run into Abel in that time anyway.

Resolving herself to the matter, Tilieth rose, leaving Lady Impa to her prayers, when the Sheikah turned a little, just noticing her.

“Tilieth,” she called, standing, face a little worried.

Tilieth smiled at the kind woman. “I’m okay. I’m feeling much better this morning. I was just wondering… do you know where my husband is? Or my things?”

“Your clothes were being washed from the blood,” Lady Impa explained. “I apologize they haven’t been returned to you in time. I believe your pouch is with the Sheikah slate – Sir Abel left them near Link.”

Well, Tilieth supposed that explained a few things. She hadn’t searched too hard beside Link. But still… “And my husband?”

Lady Impa shifted uncomfortably, and the peace Tilieth had been feeling started to fade.

“He… has a message for you,” the Sheikah chief said slowly. “He said you were right. About splitting up. He asked me to protect you while he goes to Akkala. He said he was going to talk to my sister about the slate.”

Tilieth stared. He… he what?

He left?

But—what had happened to—they were going to go to the—and Link—he just—what?!

This wasn’t… this wasn’t just him agreeing to her plan, something was—something was wrong, something was terribly wrong, Abel had been so against this plan!

“What happened?” she asked, she demanded, she choked out of the horror and shock and fear that was squeezing her lungs. “What happened last night?”

Lady Impa’s expression grew more somber, more worried. “I… don’t honestly know. He never explained.”

Tilieth swallowed thickly, trying to think it through. Whatever it was, Abel blamed himself. She knew that. She knew that. There was no way the man would do something so completely—he—what—

“I need my clothes,” Tilieth said. “I need them now.”

Lady Impa hesitated a moment, and Tilieth frantically insisted, “I said now! Please! I need them!”

Urgency and terror were filling her and making the world spin. As the Sheikah complied, Tilieth dashed back to the inn, nearly sending the innkeeper into the ceiling with fright as she slammed the door open. Link had the Sheikah slate tucked under his arm in the blankets, alongside Tilieth’s pouch. She grabbed the slate immediately, looking at the map, desperate to see what route Abel might be taking.

How much headway had he gotten? When did he leave? Had he rested at all? What had happened? What had happened?

“Your clothes,” Lady Impa announced as she held them out, standing just behind her. Tilieth quickly rushed to the corner where a privacy screen was and changed, hastened out, slate in hand, and then froze, looking at Link.

He needed to eat. He needed to be cleaned. He needed to be cared for. She trusted the Sheikah, but she couldn’t ask everything of them, and they didn’t know what to do with him.

But Abel—

Tilieth reached into her pouch, looking for whatever leftover broth she had, and quickly shook Link. “I’m sorry, love, I’m so sorry, you’re going to have to endure a little longer without freshening up, but eat quickly, okay? I have to find your papa.”

Link drank, not seeming to care, as per usual, but once she laid him back down to rest, he continued to stare off at nothing, looking tired but not nodding off. She watched him a moment, a little caught off guard. Was he uncomfortable? He’d hardly noticed anything about his body since the initial shrines on the plateau, whether it was his wounds, the rashes from the harness, the jostling from going everywhere, any bodily needs he might have… anything.

Tilieth snapped her fingers in his face. Link blinked, but he didn’t really flinch from it.

When he still didn’t fall asleep, Tilieth hesitantly tried for more broth. He drank for a little while before starting to choke on it a little bit, and she immediately stopped.

Why was he…? She didn’t know. But she couldn’t wait any longer.

“Please be okay,” she pleaded, kissing him on the forehead. “I’ll be back soon, okay? Hopefully with your father.”

Hopefully. Oh goddess, Abel, what have you done?

Reaching for the slate, Tilieth looked at the map. She’d never been to the Akkala Province, but she knew it was up north, somewhere near Death Mountain. Based on the routes they’d already taken, the shrines they’d been to…

That shrine near Zora’s Domain. That would be her best bet. But what if he hadn’t gotten that far? What then?

Well. It was better to overshoot than undershoot, she supposed.

Wait! The towers! She could probably try to find him with the scope feature Impa had talked about!

With that in mind the only tower that was feasible for such a use was the Lanayru Tower.

Lady Impa stared. “What are you, HEY WAIT—”

Tilieth pressed on the screen, feeling the magic of the slate encircle her, but Lady Impa yelped, reaching out to grab her. Tilieth squealed in response, and both women nearly fell over as they were encased in light. The lightness of the magic carried them before they could actually topple over, plopping them on the hard, cold stone of Sheikah design.

The women groaned, trying to get their bearings, when cool water plopped on Tilieth’s head, startling her. It was drizzling here, but as she scrambled towards the edge, she found that her view wasn’t all that obscured.

“What just—where are—” Lady Impa stammered, looking around in bewilderment and fright.

“Why did you grab me?” Tilieth asked as she looked around, hands shakily maneuvering the slate so she could figure out how to use its scope.

“I swore to Sir Abel I’d protect you,” Lady Impa pointed out, looking around, disoriented. “I can’t do that if you try to disappear into thin air! Where even are we?”

“Lanayru Tower,” Tilieth answered quickly, only half paying attention. “How do you get this slate to—”

Lady Impa snatched it, clicking something, and suddenly the slate showed the world around it with heightened intensity and clarity, zooming in on different points. “I’m assuming we’re looking for Sir Abel?”

Tilieth squinted through the drizzle before looking at the slate as the two women huddled beside each other to stare at it. “Yes. I have to find him.”

Lady Impa sighed heavily.

“He can’t have gotten too far, right?” Tilieth wondered aloud, tracing the path from what she could see of the mountains around Kakariko. The road disappeared occasionally, but for the most part she could see nearly all of it. “When did he leave?”

“During the night. He…” Lady Impa shuffled hesitantly. “He definitely didn’t look well. But I knew I couldn’t stop him. I’m sorry, Tilieth.”

Tilieth bit her lip, anxiety eating her alive. Her worry for her husband increased tenfold. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t already suspected, but…

Please be okay, Abel. Please be okay.

She felt so incredibly alone all of a sudden. She was thankful Lady Impa had tagged along.

As Tilieth looked through the scope, she felt her heart leap to her throat.

There was a person! There was a person on a black horse at a destroyed bridge, staring at the river, trying to find a way to cross.

“Abel,” she whispered before looking frantically at the slate, trying to find a point that was closer to his current location. As she did so, she could vaguely see the figure turn his steed and start to canter away. No, no, no no no no!

“With Thims Bridge gone, he’ll probably try to head farther north,” Lady Impa said breathlessly, trying to track his progress as well. “Let me see—why is the rest of it blank?”

“We haven’t mapped it out!” Tilieth said frantically. “What if we lose him?!”

“I don’t remember exactly where the next crossing is, but I’m pretty sure it’s close to the castle,” the Sheikah chief noted anxiously. “He—Sir Abel knows that, right?”

The castle?!

“Wait, wait, he’s coming back,” Lady Impa interrupted her panicked thoughts, eyes wide and both women nearly headbutted each other to look through the scope. Abel had indeed turned around, seeming to come to the same conclusion, and was instead heading for a set of ruins that were overrun by monsters.

“We have to help him!” Lady Impa immediately said.

“Sheh Rata Shrine,” Tilieth pointed to it. “It’s close enough. Hold on!”

The pair disappeared in streams of light once more.

Meanwhile, in Moor Garrison, Abel circled the area, fire in his blood as he snarled at the horde of monsters that had taken residence in his fallen brothers-in-arms’ home. He eliminated one easily by letting Ama knock it over before he stabbed it. Then he leapt off his horse, climbing the ruined wall to peek over and aim a bomb arrow at the two archers who were keeping lookout. The explosion caught the attention of the rest of the monsters, and Abel descended upon them from above, slamming his sword down on them. There were four in total, though only three had managed to reach him quite yet, allowing him to dodge and weave around them well enough. His shield took a few hits, knocking him against the wall, but he ignored the screaming of his mind and muscles, instead letting all of his anger broil over and fuel him.

Abel swiped out just as a bokoblin tried to aim for his head, leaving an opening, and he killed it quickly. The other two fell in succession, though his sword broke clean in half with the final blow. He scrambled to switch weapons as the last bokoblin came running into sight, and the guardian sword was the only other one he had brought with him.

The beast fell in one blow.

Abel glanced at the bluish blade, huffing. He supposed it certainly was useful. His stomach twisted a little as he stared at it too long, its hue hauntingly familiar, and he sheathed it, exiting the structure and picking up what arrows and weapons he could find as he whistled for Ama. He heard her running up from behind him, and he glanced back to see her gaining ground quickly. Just as she got within reach, he tore across her path, hand on her chest to try to avoid startling her. He traced his hand alongside her until it gripped her saddle, and the moment of the sharp turn in conjunction with the horse’s speed allowed Abel to leap into the air and onto her back seamlessly.

They moved expediently. He knew the next crossover point he could take that didn’t require a bridge.

Well. It did later. But he remembered seeing the structures from Lanayru Tower. A monster encampment of its own making was tolerable enough. He just had to tear through it while he still had the strength to do so. Staying up for two nights hadn’t done him many favors, after all.

But he was determined. He would get to Akkala quickly. He would accomplish this. And he prayed Tilieth would resolve to go to the Gerudo Desert like she’d originally planned so that he wouldn’t be anywhere near her.

How could he be anywhere near her? After what he’d—what he’d—

Abel bit his tongue, urging Ama to run faster. She couldn’t go fast enough. He had to move. Killing more beasts would help.

A fair distance behind the former knight and his steed light coalesced into two figures, and Tilieth and Impa looked around wildly in search of the man.

“ABEL!” Tilieth yelled as she caught sight of him, rushing ahead. Lady Impa gasped and hurried to keep up, managing to catch up to her companion quickly as the two attempted to call the man’s attention.

She’d never run so fast in her life. She couldn’t even call out to her husband anymore with as breathless as she was, but she refused to slow down. She had to reach him.

She had to reach him.

The blood rushed through Abel’s ears. His breathing was in tandem with Ama’s, both panting with exertion, readying for battle.

Tilieth felt her body starting to give out. She growled, pushing harder, until she felt like her chest would burst if she kept going.

Abel drew his sword once more as Ama crossed the haphazard bridge into the monster camp. Tilieth fell to the ground, Lady Impa dropping on one knee at her side to check on her.

She couldn’t get to him.

Abel focused intently, blind and deaf to everything outside of the battle. But when his first quarry leapt out at him, his heart skipped a beat.

It was a Hylian.

The horror of the last twenty-four hours screamed through his head for an instant before he followed through on the move automatically. The Hylian was clearly moving to attack. His guardian blade pierced through the man’s defenses quickly.

Tilieth screamed in horror from the shore. Lady Impa stood quickly, drawing her kodachi to protect her charge. More Hylians appeared out of different hiding places in the encampment, bearing monster and Hyrulian weapons alike, as well as strange foreign blades that looked vaguely similar to Impa’s. Tilieth covered her mouth quickly to stop herself gasping, horrified as her husband moved to defend himself from the sudden ambush.

“Stay out of sight,” Impa hissed, running ahead to assist him. Tilieth didn’t dare protest, heart racing.

There were more enemies than Abel could count. Ama lended him some protection, but it put her at risk, and he had no armor for her. She kicked when one bandit got too close, sending him flying into the water. Abel leapt off her saddle at that point, letting her buck more without throwing him off balance. There wasn’t a lot of room to maneuver on these rickety pontoon bridges, and Abel nearly got knocked into the water from a blocked blow. He dug his sword into another enemy, ignoring the warmth of the blood that saturated his gloves, and kicked yet another away to create some distance. Ama neighed in distress, running a few paces ahead to get away from the pandemonium, distracting the former knight.

Maybe he wasn’t distracted from her. Maybe the sleep deprivation was just catching up. Either way, he moved too slowly, and next thing he knew fire seared through his left shoulder as one of the Hylians managed to sink his spear into him. Abel grabbed the handle of the spear quickly, jerking it out of the man’s grip and kicking him back. He moved his left arm to try and grip the wooden handle so he could chop most of it off with his sword, preventing it from impeding him, but he could hardly move his arm. He yelled out in pain instead, stumbling back, feeling his world spin as his left arm tingled and burned.

The Hylians parted ways a little, strangely, until Abel saw the cause of the ruckus. A Sheikah warrior—Lady Impa—charged in, knives at the ready, already bloodied from taking on an unseen opponent.

What was—but Tilieth—

Abel burst into motion quickly, frantic now, mind and body both reaching their limits as he fought desperately.

Tilieth watched, terrified, hiding behind some trees, praying over and over and over, begging for this to end.

The remainder of the Hylians fell or fled, but before there could be any kind of reprieve in the fighting, Abel swiped his sword threateningly towards Impa, making her yelp and leap back.

“You promised,” he hissed, stumbling, face flushed with both fury and anguish, a broken trust and hopeless, desperate, terrifying energy in his eyes. “You promised.”

“She’s safe, she’s safe!” Impa insisted.

Tilieth heard the words carry across the bridges, and she gasped, running in. “Abel!”

The world froze between the couple as they took the sight of each other in.

Abel felt indescribable pain and relief mixing in a dizzying whirlwind. Seeing Impa here alone had scared him enough, but seeing Tilieth in the midst of this bloodshed, so soon after she’d—after he’d—he couldn’t even finish the thought, the panic of last night still so present within him that seeing her made him nearly stumble backwards and fall into the water. Tilieth looked completely winded, beautiful curls a frizzy mess, brown eyes glassy, sweat stains saturating through her tunic. Abel ached to comfort her, and his arm twitched a moment, but his shoulder hurt so damn much, and he saw blood leaking around where the spear had entered, pulsating a little. His wife shouldn’t be here, this place was dangerous, he was dangerous, he couldn’t be trusted for anything with her or Link, he was terrified.

Tilieth felt utterly out of control, helplessly looking at her husband unraveling before her. He was exhausted, dark circles under his eyes practically passing for bruises, face pallid and sweaty, hair and clothes disheveled, torn, bloodied and filthy, breathing ragged. His green doublet was steadily staining red from his shoulder as he guarded it with his right hand, hovering just over the spear’s entry. She didn’t know what to say, what to do, she just wanted to hold him and make him rest and stop the entire world from hurting him and Link, to stop everything.

The dead Hylians around her made her shudder, hugging herself as she trembled. Impa knelt down, examining one of them, finger tracing a symbol that looked strangely like the Sheikah one.

Abel took another step away. “Go back to Kakariko.”

Tilieth shook her head, choking on her tears and worry. I won’t leave you! Tell me what’s wrong!

Her silence wasn’t helping, and she knew it. Abel usually would pick up on it, would recognize that she was overwhelmed and step in to take over, but this time he was the one who needed someone to step in, and she—

Tilieth gritted her teeth, swallowing hard, taking a step forward. If she couldn’t find her words, she could at least do something.

The movement made everything worse, though, as Abel took several steps away, eying Ama.

“What’s wrong?” she finally desperately burst out, voice raw and breaking. She started to cry, hesitating to step forward but wanting so desperately to do so. “Abel, what happened? Why did you leave me?”

“I—I didn’t—I—” Abel stammered, sounding hoarse. “Tilieth it’s my fault—”

She knew he blamed himself for her injury. “Honey, don’t you understand—”

“I’m the one who hurt you!” Abel yelled, continuing to step away, backing himself near into a corner like a terrified animal. “Til, don’t you—don’t you see, I—I set that hinox on a rampage on the plateau that led to the shrine’s destruction, I gave you that concussion – I can’t be near you two, I’m going to get you killed, I—”

He cut himself off, right hand snaking around the spearhead, entire body shaking.

Tilieth felt the blood drain out of her face, mind numbing at the words and pushing them aside as she saw what he was doing, what he was planning. “Abel, no—”

“Go back to Kakariko,” he said, his voice lower, growling, threatening. Go or I’ll pull it out.

Her world was spinning, and her fingers and toes were tingling with how shallow and quickly she was breathing. What had—

Her injury had been from… him? How?!

What had happened?!

He was slipping. Her husband was slipping, and she was suddenly terrified for him, terrified of him, and she hated everything about this.

This wasn’t the man she knew, the man she fell in love with and married.

But it is, her heart cried. It is, he’s buried in there, buried in fear and grief and hurt.

But how could she reach him if he wouldn’t let her?!

A risk popped in her mind. A prayer, a hope, a desperation, an insane idea, putting such a precious life on the line.

But that life was already on the line.

Tilieth said a prayer. She said a prayer over and over and over. She mustered up all the courage she could, she grappled with every ounce of spontaneous, fiery, daring energy she had within her.

And she rushed for him.

Abel froze for a heart stopping moment, giving her hope, his eyes widening. But the surprise was quickly supplanted by absolute terror, and he ripped the spearhead out with a desperate, pained cry.

Tilieth couldn’t even get a scream out of her throat at this point, but oh her heart did so as the blood poured, excessive in its flow, increasing and decreasing in pulsating rhythm, bright red and entirely too much.

Lady Impa was faster than Tilieth could ever be, tackling the man and slamming her hand on the wound. “What are you thinking?!”

Tilieth stumbled to a halt in front of the pair, falling to her knees, hands gripping her husband’s tunic desperately, tears falling, sobs scraping out of her. Abel watched her, eyebrows pinched together, looking so much like a scared child, crying, eyes begging and apologizing more than any words could ever convey.

“The slate!” Lady Impa hissed. “Get him back to Kakariko – Kollin can help him! I’ll get the horse.”

Tilieth quickly pulled it out, numb fingers fumbling to pull up the shrine in the village. She put pressure on the wound, garnering a whimper of pain from her husband, his hand reaching for hers. She expected a fight of some sort, she expected that he’d completely lost his senses at this point, but instead of pulling her off him, his hand simply rested over hers, weak and trying and failing to grip. Their eyes locked as she finally selected the right shrine, and for a heart stopping moment, the world froze all around them.

She could see her husband, young and shy, smiling at her with a little nod of his head as he visited Hateno with other soldiers. She could see the brave young man who marched off to his next assignment after their marriage, holding her so closely, telling her how much he loved her. She could see the relief on his face when he returned to see her after his multiple year mission to Zora’s Domain, the joy that radiated from him and their son as they finally got to see her healthy again. She remembered his whispers in their most intimate moments, the way he held her to comfort her through the years, his promises to keep her safe after the world fell apart and burned, his silent vigil at Link’s shrine.

Tilieth leaned in, kissing him as the Sheikah magic carried them away, her tears intermingling with his own, falling to his cheeks as they trailed through the dirt together, carrying the blood away. She didn’t notice as the world came back to life, as birdsong replaced the sound of the water, as sunlight warmed the chilly drizzle that had soaked both of them. Abel hiccuped against her, falling apart at the tenderness of her touch, whispering over and over until the words sank into Tilieth’s mind.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Til. I love you, I love you, I love you—”

She found her voice. “You’re going to be okay, Abel. You’re going to be okay.”

#writing #Blood of the hero #Breath of the wild #breath of the wild link #BotW link #abel #tilieth #I made myself cry with the ending lol #I love them so freaking much #Up next Abel FINALLY is forced to take a freaking break #And Til gets to do allll the side quests #I promise they’ll be able to actually get comfort LOL #legend of zelda #Link’s over here getting some more stamina from Hylia and Til and Abel are too busy with their drama to notice #Poor Impa is wondering if this family drama is somehow worse than Rhoam and Zelda #Breath of the wild impa #BotW impa #impa

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defectivevillain · 1 year

Text

this broken design, ch 10

pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Reader

summary: “Dr. Lecter?” You blink a few times, convinced that you’re dreaming. The man’s gleaming eyes and concerned expression seem a bit too realistic to be conjured by your sleeping mind, though. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen him look worried. You quickly decide that you don’t like it.

“Hannibal, please,” the doctor responds nonchalantly. You stare at him in utter confusion. Just what is happening right now? You thought you were dreaming, but this feels a bit too vivid. “What are you doing out here?”

read the story from the beginning here. [this won’t make sense otherwise.]

ao3 version here

You fire one, two, three, nine shots. There’s a roaring noise in your ears. Amidst all the chaos, however, you can still sense Garret Jacob Hobbs staring at you with a sickening smirk on his face.

“See?” The man asks, as the light fades from his eyes and his body slumps against the cabinets. You’re too rattled to notice the sound of footsteps getting closer until there’s a hand on your shoulder. Dr. Lecter and you lock eyes and, even in the swirling mess of emotions running through your mind, there is overwhelming clarity.

……

How did Hannibal get your business card? You swallow past the trepidation building in your core and stare down at his rolodex in disbelief. A choked laugh escapes your lips. You let your guard down. You had foolishly hoped that maybe, just maybe, things would be different. You let your guard down and, now, your name rests amidst the names of current and future Ripper victims.

“Is everything alright?” Hannibal walks in as you’re looking at his rolodex and you quickly turn around, trying to shield it from his view. You’re not sure what expression is on your face, but it must be suitably harrowed, because his face twists in concern— mock concern, your mind supplies. “You look rather shaken.”

“Yes, of course,” you answer.

……

“Building a collection?” You can’t help but ask, after the quiet begins to grow painful. The compulsion to voice the thought was itching at your skin. Hannibal finishes setting Chilton’s business card in his rolodex, before turning back to level you with a complex look. You try your best to manifest an expression of innocent curiosity.

“Something of the sort,” Hannibal agrees, after an uncomfortably long halt in conversation.

A day has passed, yet you’re still unable to sort out your thoughts. Memories flicker before your eyes. You can’t stop thinking about the events of the past month or two—and how chaotic your life has grown to be. Abel Gideon, Frederick Chilton, Freddie Lounds, Hannibal himself… These figures are all fluttering about in your mind, taking precedence over anything and everything else.

You feel unsettlingly vulnerable. Your psyche feels… weaker, as if it’s slowly corroding and disintegrating before your very eyes. Your mental defenses aren’t as strong as you remember them to be, and the monsters you thought you had banished are returning. One person in particular is wreaking havoc on every moment of your waking life. In some ways, this person is like your shadow. He is always present, yet he doesn’t choose to make himself known unless your thoughts are clear and unfortified.

Garret Jacob Hobbs stares at you from across your dining table. You grow accustomed to being in his company for meals. The bullet holes you gave him tear through his skin and spill blackened blood. The man’s eyes are glassy, yet his gaze is piercing in an unsettling manner. Hobbs didn’t entirely die that night—he lives on in your memory, preying on your fragile psyche. You blink and rub your eyes roughly, trying to rid yourself of the image of your victim. The killer simply smiles at you, his teeth dirtied and dangerously sharp. For a moment, you swear his eyes flash in the dim lighting of the room. When you make a movement, he mimics it. Your mirror image. He is the darkest of your shadows, the loudest of the skeletons clattering in your closet. You find yourself losing your appetite more frequently, and those changes are reflecting on your face—in the form of dark circles under your eyes and an unusually gaunt pull to your cheekbones.

Time is a fickle thing. You’re starting to lose the concept of it entirely. The light and the darkness seem to morph together. You can’t define the passage of time anymore. There is only… after. You’re stuck in an unfeeling void, and it stretches far past your eyes. You throw yourself into work in an attempt to fill that void. You catch criminals, solve cases, but you can’t rid yourself of this cloying, desolate hopelessness.

You leave for work, witness horrible, gruesome things that stick in your thoughts long after you return home for the day. You rest and these horrors follow you into your nightmares. You dream of rivers of blood, fields of undiscovered graves, mountains of corpses. You wake to rub your hands raw with scalding hot soap and water, but the dirt of the bloody sins you’ve seen never quite comes off.

You’re broken from your seemingly unending trance when you return home from work one afternoon. You’re locking the front door, shedding your jacket and moving to your kitchen when you see something on your table—the same table that had been spotless when you left the house. You frown and walk closer. There’s a TattleCrime article resting innocently in the center of the table. You find yourself reaching out to interact with the newspaper before you can contemplate the consequences. The headline immediately jumps out at you in boldface text.

TattleCrime

Criminally Insane

By Freddie Lounds

[Picture 1: A fuzzy picture of you exiting the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. It is blurred and the branch of a tree can be seen in the top right corner of the photograph. Dr. Lecter is hidden behind you—obstructed by the rather large entrance door of the building.

Picture 2: A picture of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. The photograph is angled upward to make the building appear taller. The gaunt and grim building sticks out like a sore thumb against the backdrop of the bright blue sky and fluffy clouds. The entire exterior of the hospital is pictured.]

Resident killer Abel Gideon found himself being taken to the interrogation room in BSHC1 just yesterday morning. The very same agent whose office housed the corpse of Franklyn Froideveaux, alongside accomplished medical professional Dr. Hannibal Lecter, met with Gideon to discuss the resurgence of the Chesapeake Ripper. Gideon did not provide a statement elaborating on the presence of the federal agent and the psychiatrist he met with. Currently, public opinion is split between fervent beliefs of Abel Gideon as the Chesapeake Ripper and rampant denial of Gideon’s ability to commit the recent murders, since he has been incarcerated for several months. The stability of the federal agent—the same one to track down Garret Jacob Hobbs—is still in question. Despite the questionable mental sanity of the aforementioned agent and the division of public opinion, one thing is clear: the Federal Bureau of Investigation is desperate for information on the Chesapeake Ripper.

Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane's Head Administrator, Frederick Chilton, did not respond to TattleCrime’s request for comment.

For inquiries, reach out to [email protected].

If you have more information surrounding the killer widely known as the Chesapeake Ripper or the criminal profiler mentioned above, reach out to [email protected].

You place the article back down on your table, feeling vaguely unsettled. Freddie Lounds has written far worse about you—the defamation is nothing new. However, something feels off. Your hands shake with anticipation and your heart’s beat creates a haunting rhythm in your ears. You look down at the article once more. You know you should be concerned with who left it here, but your attention has been ensnared by the pictures. There’s something off about them, but you can’t discern what it is. You stare. What are you missing? What do these pictures tell you?

You brush your teeth and get ready for sleep. An hour later, you’re reclined in bed and staring up at the ceiling restlessly. Sleep is eluding you once again. Hobbs is lingering by your bedside, tauntingly ripping you from slumber whenever you try to approach it.

That Tattle Crime article refuses to depart from your thoughts. There isn’t any justification for why it’s dominating your headspace with such vigor. You’ve read many of Freddie’s articles before. Why is this one different? What sets it apart?

You’re not getting any closer to sleep. You push the covers off and get to your feet, walking in the dark to your dining room. You turn the lights on and sit down at the table, considering the article again. You feel as if you’re on the crux of a realization—perhaps even a piece of evidence. But what on earth could it be? There’s nothing significant about the article itself, and the pictures are rather unassuming. The photograph of you isn’t very flattering, but thankfully it’s pretty blurry. You have to wonder how Lounds took that picture. She must’ve been hidden behind the bushes across the street. The thought is rather disquieting. You force yourself to move your attention to the second picture.

This picture is stranger than the first one. It’s disquieting and you can’t quite figure out why. The doom and gloom of the BSHCI building looks even more dramatic pictured here than it does in-person. You squint to look at the smaller details of it. The sky is clear with a few clouds. There’s a time stamp on the bottom corner, dating this picture to be taken mere hours after your visit to Gideon that same day. That’s a little strange, but you suppose it makes sense. There are only windows on the first floor of the building, and they all have their curtains drawn aside to let natural light in. At least, all of them except one. You frown and count across the row; the window with drawn curtains is the third room on the right. You think back to the layout of the building. The third room on the right from the entryway…. It takes you several moments to remember the inside of the building. You close your eyes and try to visualize it.

The pieces of this particular puzzle finally begin to fit together. You’re suddenly assaulted with an overwhelming combination of dread, hopelessness, and guilt. You run back to your bedroom and grab your phone from the nightstand, dialing the desired number with practiced precision.

Ring. No answer yet. You wait, your anxiety only solidifying as time drags on. Ring. Maybe you won’t be getting a response after all. Ring. Just as you’re about to groan in frustration, the ringtone ends and there’s someone on the other end.

“Crawford.” Jack announces, not sounding the least bit surprised to be evidently roused awake by a phone call. You suppose that he’s grown accustomed to late-night calls about murder cases.

“It’s me, Jack.” You respond. You can’t get another word out before he’s interrupting.

“What did you find?” Of course that’s his question. You wonder (not for the first time) what you did to deserve Jack’s faith in you. The moment you said your name, he pivoted to asking you about evidence. Thankfully, you do have some evidence for him—but he isn’t going to like it.

“Did you see Lounds’ TattleCrime article?” You ask.

“You know I don’t read that garbage,” Jack says with a slight scoff to his voice. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. You have to cut him some slack, ultimately. You’re reaching out to him past midnight and he responded to your summons within three rings of his ringtone.

“Did you see it?” You ask again.

“Yes,” he begrudgingly admits. TattleCrime is far from a trustworthy news source, but Freddie Lounds is almost always the first one to release any information about events. In this case, of course, an event never occurred—it’s merely speculation from the journalist. “What about it?”

“Did you notice anything unusual about the second picture in the article—the one of the BSHCI building?”

“Just tell me what you found, Agent.” Jack responds bluntly.

“Right,” you sigh resignedly. Jack doesn’t like to be led on in such a manner—it’s better to just rip the bandage off here. “Pull up the article on your phone.” You pause for a few moments to give your boss the time to find the article. Jack lets out an affirmative grunt and you continue. “Look at the second photo. The hospital is in the foreground. I want you to look at the third window from the right on the first floor.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. Jack is going to be furious. You’re rather furious at yourself for not noticing the discrepancy in the picture until now. “That’s Chilton’s office.”

“I’m not following.” Jack says.

“When we went into the office, the windows were open,” you continue. “From the two meetings I’ve had with Chilton, I’ve deduced that he keeps his curtains drawn open to let the light in when he’s in office.”

“I’m failing to see how this is relevant,” Jack says with a slightly aggravated edge in his voice.

“Patience, Jack,” you snap, before taking a breath to regain your composure. “See the timestamp on the bottom corner of this picture? It reads 1:42 p.m., on the same day that Hannibal and I visited. We saw Chilton, which meant he was working that day. Assuming that the man follows some sort of normal working schedule…”

“The curtains should’ve been drawn open,” Jack finishes for you. The line goes silent as he evidently takes a closer look at the picture. You take the opportunity to do the same and run your finger along the place where the third window—Chilton’s office window—sits. In the photograph, the curtains are closed. “I’ll have some agents head over to the hospital now. Someone will try calling Chilton, too.” But he won’t be there to answer lingers uncomfortably in the air.

“Thanks, Jack,” you respond. Jack gives no inclination that he’s heard you. He says your name a few moments later and you nearly bristle at the sudden cold tone to Jack’s voice.

“What is it?” You ask apprehensively.

“Have you seen this?” Jack asks. “‘Murderer Abel Gideon Escapes Confinement, Kills Three.’”

“What?” You choke out. Those words promptly rip up any fragile sense of stability and safety you developed today. “No, that can’t be.” You take your phone away from your ear and put Jack on speaker, before going to your browser and searching TattleCrime. The website pops up and when you click on it, the page buffers for several seconds. Your heart is thundering in your chest. There’s a tense silence between Jack and you. Finally, the page loads and you immediately see what he’s talking about. There’s a small box reading: Abel Gideon Escapes Confinement. When you tap the box, it sends you further down the page until you’re looking at an entire article.

TattleCrime

Murderer Abel Gideon Escapes Confinement, Kills Three

By Uriah Larksen

At approximately 6:56 pm, convicted killer Abel Gideon escaped his prison transport vehicle. Gideon had previously been institutionalized in the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, following his conviction of first-degree murder regarding the deaths of his wife and her family.

The three officers assigned as escorts were killed in the ensuing conflict. Gideon fled in the transport vehicle, which hasn’t been seen since.

For inquiries, reach out to [email protected].

If you have more information surrounding recent sightings of Abel Gideon, reach out to [email protected].

You’re not quite sure how long you sit there in silence, reading over the same words over and over again. Abel Gideon escaped. Abel Gideon escaped. Abel Gideon- You take a deep breath, your chest feeling tight.

“Jack…” You finally manage to say. Your voice sounds slightly raspy and broken. Jack seems to be feeling the same; his side of the call has been silent for several minutes. You both know what Gideon’s escape means. Abel Gideon is dangerous. It’s not out of the question to think that he’ll be focusing on vengeance once he escapes. Gideon’s escape and Chilton’s disappearance must be connected.

“Did Gideon hold contempt for Chilton?” Jack asks. You both already know the answer.

“Probably,” you acquiesce. It takes a few moments for you to organize your thoughts into a somewhat comprehensible list. You rub at your temple, trying to soothe your impending headache. “Chilton manipulated him, made him think he was the Ripper. I’m sure he holds contempt for all the mental health professionals he’s interacted with.”

“All of them,” Jack repeats, a note of something indiscernible in his voice. “Agent.” You stiffen. The weight of that statement comes crashing down on you. Jack doesn’t need to elaborate—he does anyway. “Dr. Bloom is in danger. The same goes for anyone else that interacted with Gideon in a similar manner.”

“Jack…” You break off, suddenly overwhelmed.

“I’ll send a team down to Alana’s house and transport her to a safehouse,” Jack says, answering the questions you haven’t uttered yet. He sounds perfectly calm and collected. You can’t exactly find that same steely composure. Despite the events of the last few weeks, you can’t help but feel concerned for Alana. You’ve been stuck with a rather polarizing opinion of her recently. Yet, the more you think about Alana, the more you begin to remember all the good times you’ve shared with her and everything she’s done for you. Alana was a great psychiatrist, friend... Things may not be exactly the same between you anymore, but you still care about her enough to fear for her safety. “She’ll be alright.” Jack asserts, dragging you out of your thoughts.

Typically, Jack’s reassurance is enough for you. Right now, it isn’t. “Jack, you’re in Quantico,” you frown, rubbing at your eyes and fighting off your exhaustion. You feel extremely restless, so you get up from your seat and begin to pace around the room. “There’s no way the team you send will make it in time.”

“It’s the best we can do,” Jack responds diplomatically. You recognize that sending a task force is indeed the best protection Jack can provide. However, that’s not the best you can do—you can do better. Your silence must be telling, because Jack immediately switches tunes. “Don’t go to Alana’s house.” You remain quiet, knowing that you’ll incriminate yourself otherwise and feed Jack’s suspicions.

“Agent,” Jack breaks off, his tone assertive and demanding. Despite the authoritative nature of his voice, you can sense an underlying concern coating his words. Surely he isn’t worried for you—that feels out of the question. “Promise me you won’t go to her house.”

“I promise,” you respond without hesitation. There's no response for one, two, three seconds.

“Alright,” Jack then says warily. The TattleCrime article on the table burns a hole in the corner of your vision. Abel Gideon has escaped. Alana is in danger. Hell, you could even be in danger. You take a deep breath. “Keep in touch.”

Your goodbye goes unheard as Jack hangs up the call. You lean back in your chair and inhale slowly. That promise slipped from your lips without hesitation. One fatal recognition is lingering on your skin:

You’re a liar.

Jack places too much trust in you, you think to yourself. Right now, you’re betraying his trust—and you may never get it back. For a second, you contemplate your next course of action. You don’t have to go to Alana. You could stay here. The thought sickens you—remaining complicit in Alana’s potential murder. Sure, you’re not on the best of terms with Alana right now, but she was a good friend, psychiatrist—hell, girlfriend —in the past. If something were to happen to her, you’d never forgive yourself.

You get to your feet, grabbing your jacket and car keys.

The drive is monotonous and uneventful. You’ve been simmering in your own dread since your phone call with Jack; the unsavory emotions only make the ride pass faster. Before you can back out, you’re parked down the street from Alana’s residence. It’s dark outside now, with no source of light except for the pale moonlight.

Alana’s house sits in the darkness. Her outside lights aren’t on just yet. You can see light peeking through one of the shutters on the side of the house, indicating that she’s home. You bite your lip and take another few steps forward, trying your best to avoid anything on the ground that could make a sound when you step on it. The night air is brisk and cold; your exhales leave your lips in small puffs of vapor.

You don’t know how much time you spend lurking on the outskirts of Alana’s residence, watching in the shadows. You eventually come to the conclusion that Alana is fine. You know you should go to the doorstep and tell her that you stopped by, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. Instead, for an immeasurable time, you remain a silent shadow outside her window. You split your time between checking on Alana and looking for Gideon over your shoulder. The night air is still biting, but you find warmth in the knowledge that Alana is safe.

“You’re rather predictable, aren’t you?” A familiar voice whispers in your ear. Your momentum careens forward and you feel a gun pointed at the back of your head. You turn around, only to find your shadow staring back at you.

“Hobbs,” you choke out. The man’s expression is blurry and it morphs into a cruel smirk. His gun is pressed against your temple. You raise your hands in the air, which only deepens the maniacal grin on his face. His lips are falling away to reveal pointed teeth and, when a beam of moonlight glimmers against his face, black blood trickles down his incisors.

Garret Jacob Hobbs can’t be alive—he’s dead. You know that; yet, when you stare at the figure in front of you, all you can see is the murderer— your victim —’s face. His eerie blue-green eyes are piercing through the darkness, latching onto you with fervent madness. The hand that holds the gun to your forehead is steady. His breaths are calm and measured, an antithesis to the shaking, shivering mess of limbs you left him to be.

You stay locked in an unspoken stalemate for an immeasurable amount of time. You’re forced to inhabit the uncomfortable quiet with harsh breaths. Your assailant got the jump on you; you curse yourself for being so focused on Alana that you neglected your own surroundings. Vaguely, you wonder if this was a trap set for you. You can’t ponder the thought long, because, with lightning speed, the man pulls back and connects the butt of the gun to your skull. Suddenly, your sight swims and you fall to the ground. You try to push yourself up—your arm reaching for the dagger you have concealed on your form—but the swift kick to your ribs robs you of breath. Your assailant kicks your prone form one more time, twisting you so that your back now meets the ground. He stares down at you with an incomprehensible mix of glee, satisfaction, and something…darker.

Your vision spirals and fades around the edges as the man mercilessly drags you behind him. You desperately try to fight the overwhelming vertigo tugging at your core, but it doesn’t quite work. Your assailant lets out a cackling laugh and continues to drag you along as if you weigh nothing at all. You stare up at the moon, glittering in the pitch-black night sky. The pain is nearly unbearable. Your assailant doesn’t have any qualms about dragging you haphazardly, letting your form be jostled by the rocky ground. Something hot trickles down your face. You’re not sure if it’s blood or tears. Your eyes are burning and, before long, the curtain closes and you’re falling into unconsciousness.

next chapter

taglist [comment if you'd like to be added]: @its-ares

#defectivevillain #male reader #x male reader #gn reader #x gn reader #hannibal x reader #hannibal x male reader #hannibal lecter #Hannibal Lecter x male reader #Hannibal Lecter x gn reader #hannibal nbc

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