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lolita-lollipop · 3 years

Text

yandere other mother x reader- Coraline au

warnings- yandere behavior, platonic yandere, manipulation, slight infantilism, mentions of neglect, false reality,

this one really isn't bad, but just to warn you, if any of these things trigger you, please don't read!

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“Y/n this is insane! Can’t you see that she’s crazy?!” Coraline yelled at you from inside the dusty room while the three ghosts watched, their mouths had been sewn shut long ago, so they weren’t able to intervene. You stood there, feeling like you wanted to cry, this “other mother” was amazing, your real parents never showed much affection, going far enough that it could be Called neglect, so when your other mother held you in her lap, and braided your hair, and gave you warm hugs, and kisses on the cheeks, you felt happy. Your other father was just as amazing, but still, their treatment of you felt similar to one of a baby’s, always treating you like a young child who can’t think for themselves. Coraline noticed this far earlier, while you remained happy and oblivious, the buttons for eyes were the last straw for her.

“I know okay! I just, she’s so nice, I don’t even know what to think anymore, you know what it feels like to actually have parents… I don't, my entire life I’ve been shoved in a little blue house down the stairs and told ‘don't disappoint us’ by my parents! I just want to feel loved… it’s just, it’s just not fair” you spoke, lip quivering, you couldn’t even remember the last time you allowed yourself to cry, you weren’t supposed to love the “other parents” but you did, they were the parents you never had, and you just had to live them. At this point silent tears were trailing down your cheeks, Coraline remained fuming at you, not even sparing a moment to acknowledge the two small black buttons that seemed to appear out of nowhere, peeking through the wall.

“That doesn’t matter, do you really want tiny little needles poking in and out of your eyeballs? Do you really want to leave your real parents behind? Do you want me to leave you behind?” She seethed, you shook your head, letting out a few small whimpers and sobs under your breath, you hated that she was right, you hated it so much, you couldn’t just leave everything in the real world for this parallel universe void of life, you should want to back there right? where no one cared about you, where no one loved you, where you were nothing.

“Coraline? Is that any way to speak to your friend?” A soft voice rang from behind your form, the few lost souls floating in the room ten up, showering to the far corners where the other mother couldn’t see them, then you felt warm hands engulf your waist, pulling you closer to the women’s chest, you subconsciously leave into her warmth, she glared down at Coraline, stoking your head lovingly. In reality, she hadn’t wanted for you to get pushed down here, but Coraline was getting in the way, and you just got caught in the crossfire, she did make sure that your landing was softer though, while Coraline's was harsh.

“You don’t get to tell us what to do, you aren’t her mother.” Coraline breathed out, slimming her eyes into a harsh stare at the woman in whose chest you were sobbing into. One moment, you were in the cold cellar-like room, the next, you were back in the baby pink room that was yours in this place, your true room was a boring white, with a ritzy mattress in the middle, and a small cabinet that served as a closet. Although you didn’t particularly like the color pink, it was nice to know that someone cared enough to bring true colors into your life. The other mother continued her embrace, picking up and cradling your head against her shoulder, you felt a wave of drowsiness overtake your senses, it hit you like a pound of bricks, and you squeezed the back of the women’s shirt to see if you were dreaming or not, her hold just felt so… comforting.

“Was she mean to you darling? Don’t you worry your little head about it, shhhhhh, just fall asleep, mother will take care of everything.” She spoke, bouncing slightly up and down with each step she took towards the large bed that was displayed in the center of the room. You barely muttered a small “wait” before falling asleep in her arms. She tenderly placed your body under the silky sheets, wrapping you up with the soft fabric and placing a small pig plushy next to you, keeping an eye on her precious’s little daughter while she tended to some “housework”.

The second you went unconscious you slipped into a weird dream, you were walking on a thin sheet of water, in a pitch dark room, it was so cold like someone had dunked you in a bucket of ice, you stared out into the nothingness, gradually growing more anxious, where are you?

“HELLO! IS ANYBODY OUT THERE!” You screamed, only to be greeted by the echo of your own words, nothing more, nothing less. You started to swivel around in a moment of panic, having just about no idea what could happen to you in this dark abyss. That was until you dek the floor below you disappear, and you popped into existence into a completely different place, it was a medium sized room, the layout was similar to a grocery store, multiple shelves made the room feel smaller, what was odd about it, was that all the shelves were packed with hundreds of snowglobes. You admired the pretty glass structures as you slowly walked down the aisles, each had a completely different design, with little figures inside, you found it adorable, ogling at the pretty things. That was until you heard quiet clicking of heels, and your other mother came into view.

“There you go, now don’t be rude to me! You are a very lucky girl that I’m even letting you live, you should know much better than to taint my daughter's mind with your filthy voice, oh you make such a great addition to my collection! Enjoy your stay, forever” she chimed, you were positive that she couldn’t see you, mainly because you were standing frozen directly in front of her, and she hadn’t acknowledged you. At least you weren’t freezing anymore! You tiptoed closer to the snowglobe that was just placed among the collections, wondering why your mother was so enthusiastic about it. And saw nothing special about it, other than the bright yellow raincoat that adorned the figurine.

you remained completely unaware. of the thousands of button eyes that watched you from the globes, begging to be shattered, and set free.

“Pretty” you muttered to yourself before the world faded again, and you were back into your body, snuggled up under the covers, clutching the pig plushy close to your chest, you felt awake, but also very asleep, forgetting your entire dream the moment your eyes opened, slightly surprised to see that you were still in the pink room, in the other house. You could hear the feint sound of your bedroom door opening, the creak rang through the room. And the other mother smiled softly at your lovable position, cooing under her breath, trying not to be too loud and wake you up.

“Darling, we have to get up now, oh I know I know your still tired, but it’s dinner time, you can’t stay in bed all night, little sleepyhead, my little sleepyhead.” She spoke, rubbing your shoulder while you groaned at the sudden speaking and noise. You didn't know how long that dream lasted, but you did know that it was odd, so odd that in fact, it made up your mind for you about the whole button eyes thing.

“Uhm- Mother? I-I’m sorry, but I- I don’t want to put buttons in my eyes.” You muttered, awaiting a harsh reaction, but instead, getting another one of her sweet smiles, she picked you up again and sat you in her lap, your small frame getting engulfed by hers.

“Oh is that what you were worrying so hard about? Don’t worry honey, you never were going to have to sow buttons in your eyes, it was just to see if I could trust you, and I know that I can trust you now.” She stated, calmly, a little too calmly. So… she lied? You got in a fight with your best friend because she wanted to “see if she could trust you”?

“Oh- okay, where coralline though? Can I talk to her? Please, mother?” You started begging after seeing her stoic expression, why did you want to see her? Was she not good enough for you? Coralline was mean to you, she hurt her little girl! Why did you want to see her? We’re you going to leave your mother for a snobby brat? She tightened her hold on you, pressing you closer to her, whispering little “shh” or “stay with me” in your ear, for some reason, you couldn't place what Coraline's face looked like, even though you had seen her just earlier, any memories of her were slowly dimming, fuzzy spots started appearing in any of those memories, and like turning of a staticky tv, they disappeared. You couldn’t even remember the name “coralline” after a few minutes of being cradled in this women’s lap.

“Cmon darling, let’s go eat dinner now, your father made it this time, I’m surprised he hasn't burn down the kitchen!” She spoke, getting a few sleepy giggles out of you. After helping you down the stairs she led you to the dining room, where you went on and sat at the large table next to your two parents. And so, you forgot about your “real” world, staying young forever here, even growing younger and smaller as time went on, forgetting about coralline, and your parents, and the small door, you lived your life happy, dressed in frilly pink clothing, learning to lobe your mother as she grew more obsessed with you, she got what she wanted in the end

You stayed mother’s little girl forever

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have a great day today :)

#yandere x reader #coraline #yandereothermother #other mother #yandere x y/n #cuddling & snuggling #buttons #snow globe #yanderecoraline #alternate universe #platonic obsession #platonic yandere #darling #infantilism

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 4 years

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Steve//love? hope? or a bit of both?

Request: Can I maybe request something where after billy's death Steve takes care of the reader and they fall in love

hey! i hope you like it!! i kind of got a little bit carried away (i always do), but i think i pulled it back though!

- You and Billy were unlikely friends

- You saw how he bullied people and used girls and you definitely didn’t approve

- But between working together at the community pool

- And being neighbours

- The two of you somehow became friends

- And just friends

- No matter how hard he tried to make it something more

- But you knocked him back...always

- You had more of a thing for Steve

- Not that you told anybody that though

- Especially not Billy

- You saw how much they hated each other

- And if Billy got even the slightest hint that you liked Harrington, you’d never hear the end of it.

- So that secret stayed with you

- Its not like you were going to do anything about it anyway

- You’re not entirely sure Steve knew who you were to be honest

- Anyway...

- So you and Billy saw each other practically everyday

- Apart from when you worked different shifts (which was very rare)

- Or if he was on a date (that one was not rare)

- But he did always make time for you

- And then he starts avoiding you

- And acting weird

- And just being off

- So, one night you decide to follow him

- Because he’s being reallllllllly weird

- Like, he’s possessed.

- One minute you’re following him out ‘Bradley’s Big Buy’

- And the next thing you know

- You’re throwing fireworks at a creature in the middle of the mall

- There’s an odd mix of people with you

- Steve, for a start

- And Steve’s co-worker Robin

- Someone you’ve had a few conversations with while she hands you your ice cream and gives Billy a dirty look

- But you can tell she’s cool

- Nancy and Jonathan are there too

- With their little brothers and their friends

- Nobody really notices you at first

- But then again, you all have slightly bigger things to deal with

- However they quickly notice you when they hear you scream

- You can feel yourself running towards Billy

- But arms are around your waist before you’ve barely made it three steps

- And the next thing you know you’re slumped on the floor sobbing into Steve Harrington’s chest

- In any other situation, this would be your dream

- Maybe not the crying part

- But the fact that he’s cuddling you

- But right now, you just want to see Billy

- To poke him in the arm or chest or something and for him to wake up and tell you

- ‘i’m just kidding babe’

- And you’d roll your eyes at the use of the word ‘babe’

- But life would carry on as normal and everyone would be okay

- You don’t really remember much of the next few days

- You’re too busy being lost in your grief

- Like a really large void has opened in your chest and you can’t do anything to stop it from consuming every part of you

- The only things you really remember are:

- Billy’s screams

- Something you can hear/see every time you close your eyes

- Signing a contract that forces you to keep your mouth shut about everything

- Not that you know anything about it

- But it makes you feel sick every time you think of it

- And the lack of people at the Hargrove/Mayfield household

- The only person that you’ve seen go into the house is Billy’s aunt

- Somebody he saw twice a year if that

- On the morning of day three of your grief

- There’s a knock on your bedroom door

- Thinking its your mom bringing you more food you’re barely going to touch

- You mumble a quiet ‘come in’ and peak your head out from under the blanket

- You’re surprised however when you see Max and Steve

- Steve looks a little awkward

- And like he hasn’t slept for days

- But he offers you a smile anyway

- Max looks more nervous that awkward

- And like she’s on the verge of tears

- She tries to force a smile, but she can’t quite make it

- Instead she sighs and looks at the floor

- You probably look worse than both of the combined

- But right now you don’t really care

- Steve takes the lead and shuffles his way into your room

- Placing a bouquet of flowers on your desk chair

- The Steve stood in your bedroom looks completely different to the one you knew at school

- He’s more of a shell of himself

- Before he was confident and cool

- Now he’s a lot more on edge

- And something about the way he carries himself makes you think this isn’t the first time he’s had to deal with something like this

- You sit up and they take that as an invitation to come in

- Steve remains where’s he’s stood, leaning against the wall

- But Max sits beside you and cuddles into your arm

- She liked you as soon as Billy introduced you as his girlfriend

- And you’d snorted in reply and told him ‘in your dreams’

- You were the first one of Billy’s friends that never seemed annoyed with her

- You would actually volunteer to hang out with her and her friends

- And she always liked that about you

- It made Billy babysitting a lot more fun if you were there

- Steve is the first to break the silence

- ‘max asked me if i could come over with her. but i wanted to see how you were doing. and also to say thank you for helping the other night’

-His words stumble over each other but you get the jist of what he says and are grateful that he came over

- Even if it is a bit awkward

- ‘we’re also really sorry for your loss’

- Him and Billy may hated each other

- But he didn’t deserve to die

- He should have been able to grow as a person

- To apologize and seek forgiveness

- Plus Steve knows you were close

- He doesn’t really understand why

- But he hates seeing you like this

- He may not have noticed you while at school

- But he noticed you when he would go to the pool on a rare day off

- And he noticed you when you’d come into Scoops

- Sometimes you’d be alone and he’d have to stop himself from jumping over the counter and sitting with you

- Sometimes you’d be with Billy and he’d have to stop himself from jumping over the counter and punching him in the face

- And sometimes you’d be with other friends

- But you would always be laughing

- He really wants to hear you laugh again

- ‘thanks’ You mumble and look at your duvet

- Max is the next to speak

- Something about cleaning out Billy’s room before his dad found something he wouldn't like

- She then hands you a jacket that you didn’t even realize she was holding

- Its denim, so its definitely his

- And then you remember you’d claimed it when he told you it was too small for him

- It still smells like him and you have never been happier for forgetting something at his house

- You make a mental note to put it somewhere safe after they’ve left

- ‘thanks’ You mumble again and tuck it beside you.

- ‘how are you holding up?’ You ask Max but she just shrugs in reply.

- ‘what about you?’ You turn your attention to Steve and he looks at you surprised

- ‘i’m good.’ All three of you know he’s lying

- How can anybody be good after that?

- But you can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it, so you don’t push it any further

- ‘and everybody else?’

- ‘the same’ He nods. ‘there’s talk of the byers moving with el’

- Silence takes over the three of you

- You’re all looking around your room

- But you’re thinking of three different things

- You’re remembering Billy lying on your bed while you were getting dressed for work

- He was only waiting for five minutes

- But he made it feel like an eternity because of how much he complained

- He didn’t stop until your shoes were on and you were walking out the door

- At the time it annoyed you

- But right now, you missed his complaining

- Max is remembering watching him sneak through your window at 2am

- She remembers teasing him about it the next morning

- But it was a subtle way to say she saw and she wasn’t going to tell

- Especially because of the bruise on his cheek

- Steve is thinking about when he was back at school

- Billy had just turned up

- And Steve knew it was just a matter of time before he was no longer King Steve

- He had heard countless of rumours about Billy and he’d only been there for less than a week

- But he remembers one that he’s only just realized was about you

- Someone had seen the two of you talking outside your house

- ‘he’s going to break her heart’ They’d said

- Whoever had said it was right.

- Eventually the silence got too much and they both left

- You promised Max that she was welcome to come round any time

- Both of them were

- And you meant it

- The next time you saw them was Billy’s funeral

- For the amount of women that Billy slept with, there was a definite lack of people in the church

- You were sat at the front beside Max

- But you noticed the rest of the party, as well as Steve, Nancy, Jonathan and Robin sat near the back.

- After the wake

- You shrugged Billy’s jacket on, despite only going next door

- To your surprise

- Steve was sat on your porch holding another bouquet of flowers

- Once he noticed you, he stood up and fiddled with his jacket a little

- However once you sat down beside him

- He slowly sat again and handed you the flowers

- ‘thanks for coming today’

- ‘oh’ He says surprised ‘no problem’

- ‘will you thank the others for me?’

- ‘yeah of course.’ He replies. ‘how are you?’

- You just shrug in reply but he understands

- ‘about that nigh-’

- ‘steve? i have literally so many questions. but please...not tonight’

- ‘sorry’

- Instead of answering

- You just lean your head on his shoulder.

- To the outside world

- You probably look like a couple of teens coming back from a first date

- And right now, you wished life was that simple

- You shove your hands in your pockets but something catches them

- You frown in confusion and pull it from your pocket

- Its a mixtape with your name scrawled on it

- As soon as you recognize the handwriting you smile and lift your head up

- ‘whats that?’ Steve asks while watching you trace the writing carefully

- ‘mixtape. it must be from billy’ You sigh and shove your hands back in your pocket to see if there’s anything else

- There’s a few gum wrappers (and a condom...gross. He definitely put that in there to annoy you)

- But there’s a small note and your heart rate increases

- ‘hey babe. i made this for you to play when you eventually bone harrington (god knows why you want to). you know you really have to be more subtle if you want to keep something like that from me. if you want any practice before you do the deed, i’m more than willing to help’

- ‘whats that?’ Steve looks over your shoulder and you quickly shove the note back in your pocket

- ‘oh, its just a stupid note’��

- ‘was there something going on with you two?’

- ‘ha! he wishes’ You laugh, but its only now do you realize you’re crying

- ‘you two just seemed close’

- ‘nah. just friends. we both liked very different people’

- ‘oh’ If this was any other night and not the funeral of your best friend, you would have thought he sounded hopeful. ‘are you going to listen to it?’

- ‘probably later.’ You blush slightly

- ‘we could listen to it in my car’

- ‘excuse me?’

- ‘not like that.’ He laughs and you feel your heart sink a little. ‘just, driving around town has been a welcome distraction this past week. sometimes we all meet up in one of the empty parking lots on the other side of town just to hang out and feel normal. i just thought it might help’

- ‘yeah...that sounds nice’

- He helps you up stand and tries to grab the mixtape from you but you quickly shove it back in your pocket

- ‘knowing billy he would have put some very inappropriate songs on it’

- ‘yeah. i don’t want to know what sort of stuff he liked’ He laughs

- You know he was only joking

- But the way he says it makes you frown

- He notices how sad you look once you’re both sat in his car and he sighs

- He’s still trying to be better at a lot of things

- Reading signals is one of them apparently

- ‘why don’t you tell me your favourite memory of him’

- So you do

- You tell him about the time Billy thought he’d locked you in the cleaning supply closet at work

- When in reality it was somebody who looked nothing like you and when you tapped him on the shoulder he screamed like a baby.

- And you laugh like you used to when you’d walk into Scoops and brighten up his day

- He hopes he’s going to hear it a lot more

- And so do you

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

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buglife · 3 years

Note

Frogs + king Quirrel /king ghost. (Sorry for the lack of direction I like you weird frog things)

Info about Hallownest Frogs -> Here

There was something on their face.

Ghost roused from the land of dreams, having just pruned some more nightmares from the collective minds of the kingdom. They had first noticed the pressure a short while ago. It quickly escalated into the feeling of cold wetness as something alive wriggled on the front of their built-in mask. It had got annoying very quickly, and they had decided to hasten their return to the waking world. The sight that greeted them wasn’t another prank by Tiso, a leak in the roof, or anything else.

It was a goddamned frog.

The fat little creature looked them dead in the eyes with their wall eyed stare and blinked slowly.

“Keroo.” It croaked softly. “Keroo.”

At least now, they were actually bigger than the frog. The first one they ever encountered was back when they were small, and the frog was nearly as big as they were. They had remembered poking it with their nail a few times, watching it inflate bigger and bigger in annoyance. Finally, it had one too many pokes and opened its fanged mouth to scream, which sent them running. Absolutely Terrifying. The sound they make when pissed is even enough to make a god shiver.

They were surprised to learn later that frogs were actually the pet of choice for many residents of Hallownest before the fall. They tended to be mild mannered and docile, until poked too many times. They had started seeing more of them after taking the throne, but those ones were on leashes and in the front cases of pet stores. They personally didn’t interact with them much.

The frog croaked again, and it was answered by many more, and it sounds like they were on the bed as well. Moving carefully, Ghost moved their arms out from under the covers to grasp the frog and lift it from their mask. It puffed up in annoyance, but thankfully didn’t start screaming. They turned their head to look at their spouse, and sighed.

Quirrel was still asleep, and also covered in frogs. They looked down to see many more, just resting in the covers and attempting to snuggle in near their legs and body. Ghost guessed that they were looking for warmth, and cuddles, as clearly these ones were friendly. They did not appreciate how the one in their hands started to wiggle, wanting to be put down. They did just that, and the frog crawled over to lay on their chest.

They reached over to shake their spouse, annoying more frogs as they climbed off Quirrel to snuggle next to him. Quirrel took a moment to awaken, as it was a little earlier than usual.

“Mmm….what’s the matter, dear?” He yawned widely, and was startled awake by a loud croak.

He sat up quickly, beholding the frogs that swarmed the bed. He looked at them, and then back to Ghost. “Love...why are there frogs in our bed?”

Being around them for so long has dulled their beloved pillbug’s sense of shock. He rolled right with the punches, and as far as they knew, waking up with a bed full of frogs was on the bottom of the list of distressing discoveries.

Ghost hummed and looked over the amphibians crowding around them. Now that both were awake, they were attempting to shove their way under any hand that was available, demanding attention. They looked clean and plump, so they weren’t strays that broke into the palace. Looking closer, they saw little bands on their arms, each in different colors. They sighed as the realization hit them.

“Hollow.”

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Hollow was the happiest they have ever been. After years of therapy and love, they have decided what they wanted to do with their lives. Having the support of their siblings has been wonderful and being allowed to choose what they wanted to do was a very welcome feeling. They had wanted to be kind. All they have ever wanted to do, was to help. Even when the Pale King had convinced them that they were hollow, that feeling of wanting to help and protect were still strong.

They were now a proper knight, Hollow the Kind. No longer were they a tool, an ornamental piece designed to just stand there like a living statue. They were free to wander the kingdom and help, but today, they were in their room in the palace. They were often away, but they were happy to have their own room to decorate as they pleased. It ended up turning into a sanctuary with potted plants that lumaflies liked to gather on. They kept their window open, letting them in and out as they pleased. It tickled them so much that they would choose to visit, and they would sit and watch them flit about for hours.

It was a few days ago when they found a box of abandoned frogs and their young, pollywogs, left in the city of tears. The box was shut, so most likely someone got tired of the strays and decided to do something about it. They had taken the box, sneaking it past everyone, to take it to their room. They have been caring for them ever since, giving them attention and making them healthy again. Soon, they’ll be ready to be given away to new families and get their second chance in life.

Hollow knew all about second chances.

They had fed all the frogs and put them to bed on a nest on the floor, and then fell asleep. At least, they think that is what happened. They jolted awake in their armchair when they heard the voice of their twin in through the void.

“Sibling, are you awake?”

Hollow was awake now. They were family, but they were still their knight as well. Is there trouble? Anxiety shot through them and they shivered slightly.

“I am.” Hollow replied in turn, void rumbling within themselves as they grabbed their nail. “Are you in danger?”

“No. May I come in?”

Hollow chuffed. “Yes.”

They were not prepared when Ghost opened their door. Hollow was prepared to see them in any other way except covered in frogs. They needed all four arms to hold them, and the ones that did not fit were perched on their head and shoulders. Hollow looked at the frogs and then towards the nest where they were supposed to be. It was empty. They looked back and forth a few times and didn’t move when Ghost entered. Hollow watched them deposit all the frogs gently back into the nest, picking the ones off their head.

“They were in our bed.” Ghost continued. They didn’t sound angry, just amused.

Hollow shrank in on themselves. “I’m sorry, they must have gotten out, I fell asleep-”

“You are fine, my sibling.” Ghost had to reach up to put their hands on their shoulders. “I am not angry. I am happy that you are enjoying what you do, and that you are using your strength to help those who are weak.”

“However,” They continued, sweeping their eyes across the room. “Your heart has outgrown the space for you here.”

Hollow didn’t know what to think about that comment. Were they going to have to leave? Luckily their fears were quickly put to rest when Ghost continued.

“I believe we have extra funds in the royal treasury. How about we make plans together for an animal shelter? Surely you’ll have more room there and will have proper tools to use to rehabilitate them.” Hollow could hear the humor in their siblings voice as they gestured at the frogs now swarming in attempts to get on their bed. “Of course, if you don’t mind one more duty on top of the ones you have, I can only think of one person suitable to head it.”

Hollow wheezed happily and gripped their smaller sibling in a hug that would have smooshed a lesser bug. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” Their void speech ran together as their joy didn’t allow for pause. Ghost chirped and hugged back, now happy that from now on, they are less likely to wake up with a creature on their face.

And that, is how the Gentle Giant Animal Shelter came to be.

#hollow knight #fanfic #my writing #terra lumina #ghost/quirrel #hollow #ghost #quirrel #ruler ghost #king quirrel #scholar king au #frogs #fluff #hollow sure does run an animal shelter and loves it #hollow is the type to have baby frogs in their pockets #hollow-kin

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cafcaf22 · 4 years

Text

Accidents Happen

Chapter 1.

Stardew Valley's newest farmer tends to keep to herself. That is, until she bumps into the Town Doctor. Accidents Happen, y'know.

For someone who works their ass off on a farm by herself each and every day, it doesn't seem like making friends would be the most difficult task on the planet. But it is.

You moved to Stardew Valley a little over a year ago, and you're still stuck in the same horrible cycle: Wake. Eat. Feed the animals. Water the plants. Fish. Eat. Sleep. The routine has yet to change. You spend the majority of your days in the same productive, yet monotonous routine. Motivation gets harder and harder to come by, especially as the summer season ends. This coming winter does not look like it's going to be your friend.

Some evenings, when you really considered the level of your loneliness, you've thought about heading over to the saloon to check in with your neighbors. You thought about it most during the hot days when you needed a refresher after a long day. However tempting a cold glass of beer may be after working up a sweat pulling hundreds of blueberries off the vines in the summer heat, you always ended up chickening out. A common thing for you. You wanted to try- you wanted to reach out, but what would you even say? Hi! I'm the girl who's been isolated on her farm for the last 4 seasons, it's nice to finally meet you! How weird would that be? You didn't want to cause a scene - you never really liked the attention that much, so it wasn't worth the attempt.

One day during the last week of the summer, you stopped by Pierre's to check out some fertilizer for the coming fall season. As you strolled the aisles, eyeing the shelves and brushing past the baskets of the daily offerings, you overheard a lot of chatter about hanging out in the saloon on weekends. The courage you'd need to show up there on its busiest day... Hell, sometimes even Sundays had great turnouts. I probably shouldn't, you thought. If I showed up, it would make everything awkward. They don't even know me that well, and how am I supp-

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by a body being slammed straight into your side.

"Ow!" You yelped as your wicker basket was thrown onto the ground. You immediately clutch your left side in pain and feel a sharp piercing in your lungs, as the cold floor of the shop shocks your cheek. You blink at the ground, massaging your side as you try to inhale. But that's when you realize you can't. You blink rapidly, trying to take a breath, but the air never fills your lungs. You clutch your chest, trying to feel the rise and fall, but your heartbeat is the only continuous movement. The thumps grow faster, harder. You start to feel dizzy, clutching your chest on the cold floor. I'm hyperventilating. I can't breathe. Am I having an asthma attack? Oh, Yoba. I'm having an asthma attack.

"Oh- Oh my... I am- I'm s-so sorry! Are you alright?" A voice bursts from over your left shoulder as you double over on the ground in pain, trying to find your breath. Fucker knocked the wind out of me, you thought to yourself. You could barely breathe. I need my inhaler- Is it at the farm? The voice continued to apologize, unsure as to whether or not they should step in to aid you. You tried to take another breath, but your lungs fought hard. Fuck, I- I can't breathe, I can't-

"I- I must have knocked the wind out of you..." The voice says to himself, but you don't even register it. You squeeze your eyes shut, clutching your side and focusing on the movement of your chest. It feels like nothing and everything at once. You inhaled to feel the cool air enter your lungs, but it didn't happen. Your body felt like a deflated hot air balloon. The voice continued on behind you, mentioning something about sitting up straight and taking deep breaths. You just want it to stop, can't it shut up already? I can't breathe, I can't-

"Oh my- here! Look at me!" The voice boomed, closer now. He was above you, blocking the overhead lights of the general store. You uncurled from your ball, struggling to breathe. All that comes out are course whispers.

"Inhaler..." You managed to grunt. In less than a few seconds, a cold plastic is pressed against your lips.

"Here," the voice says gently. "I- It's mine, but it will do." The voice spoke again. Everything suddenly grew blurrier, and the voice's words became slurred. You barely made out the deep green coat that blocked all of your view, but it was soft and warm against your skin. "Breathe in," the voice said calmly. You blinked wildly, remembering that you needed to actually inhale. You take a deep breath, and taste the medication as it enters your mouth, and flows smoothly into your lungs. You finally gained some sense back. As you sat back against the aisle of the grocery store, you glanced up for the first time.

Your savior kneeled in front of you, an anxious look spread across his face. Large brown eyes took over yours, encompassing you into his with no effort at all. You stared deeply into them, locked in a trance that never seemed to end as you swam in the honey that swirled within them. His glasses sat on the edge of his nose, ignored in the face of your injury and in dire need of a cleaning. A thick mustache framed the lower portion of his face, complementing the way that his cheeks sat happily above them. He smiled the most endearing smile you had ever seen.

"I am... so truly sorry." He spoke, words of pure velvet. This voice, you thought. That's the voice.

After a few moments of slow, medicated breathing, you were finally able to speak.

"Thank you... I think?" You whispered, glancing down at his hand that held a firm grip on your shoulder. He glanced down, recognizing his steel grip on your arm, and quickly released.

"Can you breathe a-alright now?" He asked, leaning back slightly after realizing how close he had been.

"Yes," you replied confidently while fighting a cough at the base of your throat. "I haven't had an asthma attack in months... I usually keep my inhaler on me, but I guess I left it at the farm," you muttered to yourself, attempting to stand up.

"Hey, let's be careful here," he chuckled, lightly elevating your elbow and guiding you to stand. You glanced into his eyes again, hoping to have his meet yours. He seemed to avoid any effort. "I am so sorry for running into you like that... I would tell you the reason why, but it will sound a lot worse out loud." He chuckled again, running a hand through the back of his hair and fidgeting with the pocket of his pants. You raised your eyebrow, giving him a curious look.

"W-Well... I usually stand out in the garden across the pavement, and there seemed to be a..." He drew out the end of his sentence. You narrow your eyes at him, a playful smile spreading across your lips. "A... bee."

You couldn't help but let out an ugly chortle, the first of a real laugh in months. You had barely mustered up a small smile since you'd been in Stardew, not to mention the horrors of your old 9-5 desk job for Joja Cola. To be able to laugh freely in the company of someone else made you feel years and years younger; it was a feeling that reminded you of how often you got to interact with others - which was not much. The laugh quickly turned into a nasty cough, your lungs screaming at you to calm down.

"I'm so sorry- I didn't mean to laugh like that, it just kind of..." but you trailed off the end of your sentence in order to take in the beauty that was his laugh. He began to speak in fits of giggles, clutching his lower belly and covering his mouth in an attempt to stifle the beautiful sounds that escaped from his lips. His lips.

"No, I'm sorry!" He exclaimed in between giggles. You smiled awkwardly, unsure of how to continue on. You weren't the greatest at conversation, but it seemed like he wasn't either, so the two of you appeared to be comfortable in acknowledging the oddness of the whole situation. "I'm Harvey, by the way."

Your heart fluttered. Harvey. The man who saved me from asphyxiation. Well... The man who almost caused my asphyxiation.

He cleared his throat, and you realized you had been silent for a moment. You gave him your name and smiled, feeling your heart beat at the thought of finally having a friend. Maybe.

"How come I haven't seen you around at the clinic before?" He asked, eyes gazing into yours a little more intensely.

"Oh, I don't usually have any issues," you spoke quickly, trying to avoid the topic altogether. Doctors made you nervous. The ghostly white rooms. The empty hallways. The cold, metallic utensils pressed against bare skin. The intense questioning, and the way you're forced to admit things to a stranger about your own personal problems... Not a great way to spend your time.

Why would he mention the clinic? Does he- Oh... Fuck.

"So... you must be the Town Doctor?" You asked, kicking yourself on the inside for being so stupid. How could I be so stupid?

He blushed, and your heart soared. "You could say that, yes. However, I don't see many patients currently- which, I guess is something I should never complain about... I don't ever want to wish ill-will upon my patients. I don't think that's what came across, but I just wanted to... uh, make that clear," he sputtered awkwardly, attempting to save himself from embarrassment. His cheeks continued to flush a bright red. "Oh, and I understand that you don't necessarily have any... 'issues'... But feel free to come by my clinic tomorrow afternoon for an additional inhaler. Free of charge, of course. It's all that I can give you after certainly causing your episode today- which, I am still so terribly sorry for. I just really, really hate bees."

He spoke the words so quickly, you had to remind yourself to breathe as you comprehended everything he said. Mainly because you were busy staring into the void that was his eyes. Beautiful, golden brown. Heavenly.

"Of course, Doctor," you reassured him.

"Great. I'll see you tomorrow!" He exclaimed, a little too enthusiastically. You smiled in return and bent down to pick up the basket that had fallen just moments prior. "Oh, let me grab that for you-" said Harvey, beating you to the wicker basket. Your heads knocked together, clunking against each other as you both attempted to stand up. You both groaned, rubbing your heads and awkwardly glancing at the floor as if eye contact would cause another ruckus.

"Maybe we should wear helmets," you spoke softly, attempting to alleviate the awkward.

"Maybe," he sighed. "I'll see you around, Farmer." He smiled softly, and swiftly walked out of the store.

Farmer. How did he know I was a farmer?

#stardew valley #stardew harvey #sdv harvey #sdv #fluff #fanfic #harvey fanfic #female reader

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greenninjagal-blog · 4 years

Text

Happy Little Stars

Hello Lovelies! I’m back with more of the Alien au! If you missed the previous parts you can find them [Here] on Ao3!

Previous: [Stars Die (But We Don’t)]

Start: [The Space Between Us]

Summary: Virgil is Happy. Logan helps him realize how much. (ft: Anxceit, gays in space, and good feelings)

Words: 6885

Quick Taglist:@alias290 @chelsvans @coyboi300 @dante-reblogs @dwbh888 @glitchybina @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @harrypotternerdprincess @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @mrbubbajones @musical-nerd18 @nonasficcollection @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @the-sunshine-dims @themagicheartmailman @themultishipperchild @thenaiads @treasureofpriam @vianadraws @welovelogansanders

Read on Ao3 || General Writing Masterlist

Virgil stretched out his shoulders as he walked into the kitchen area. It was somewhere between too-late and why-the-fuck-was-he-awake-this-early o’clock and his body was bemoaning it. But Space revolutions and rotations had long since thrown off his circadian rhythm. He wasn’t sure how much he was sleeping compared to how much he’d been sleeping on Earth: he hadn’t exactly been abducted with a watch and different planets regulated time by different intervals.

Logically Virgil knew that one rotation of a planet was one day, and one revolution was a year, but aliens used the word “Qisannu” to describe minutes, but their minutes were something like 84 seconds and their hours (“Phisannu”) were about 42 quisannu each and Virgil had decided that he was perfectly happy not knowing what time it was, ever. Logan had been very interested in how humans told time but had gotten distracted by the finger multiplication Virgil had been doing while trying to explain it all and they had never gotten back on track.

The point was that Virgil had slept and that even in the expanse of Space, the Final Frontier(™) he was still not a morning person. Janus and Logan were already up though: the former sipping tea from Patton’s secret stash and the latter reading off one of the Interspace Nook-like devices that usually brought news of the important type to them while sitting at the table quietly.

Virgil gave a blurry, still sleepy nod in the direction of the living beings and shuffled over to the cabinet where food was stored. He poked around for a moment before picking out some weird substance that Roman had specifically told him not to eat. It had reminded him of Jello, but the flavor was more towards cough syrups than fruit. They had picked it up off a distant planet and Roman had nearly paid thrice the amount of griot for it. Virgil didn't see what the hype was, but it was substance and he was hungry and really Roman had practically invited him to take it when he said don’t even look at it, you Deathworlder!

“I was thinking,” Janus started. “Rozario.”

“Rozario?” Virgil echoed.

“Spanish origins to remind us of Spanish class where you repeated embarrassed yourself every single day--”

“Seriously,” Virgil said, “Can’t you wait until I wake up to insult me?”

“--And it's elegant. Listen to it: Virgil Rozario, Janus Rozario.” He paused for emphasis as Virgil blinked at him slowly, “Really it's my favorite so far--”

"FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS SCIENCE!" Logan yelled, "I CONCEDE! I GIVE UP!"

At any other moment this would be a momentous occasion. Logan, the smartest of the Tenekarie, the most feared alien on this side of the cosmos, the relentless scientist, finally admitting defeat. Virgil hadn’t thought that Logan even knew the Common words for "give up" much less how to use them in a sentence. He was passionate and determined and once he set his mind to something there was a better chance of stopping a black hole’s gravitational pull than getting him to back down.

And yet, at stupid-early o'clock on their mostly silent spaceship in the middle of completely silent Space, hearing Logan scream at the top of his lungs was not what Virgil was expecting nor was he prepared for.

"What the fuck!" The human growled from on the floor surrounded by the remains of his breakfast, whatever alien food it was. “Actual fucking Hell! Logan!”

Janus looked down at him from his delicate perch on the table, humming into his cup of tea like he hadn't also startled at the sound of Logan's exclamation and poured half his drink on the ground. "Oh dear," he said innocently, intentionally, asshole-ishly. "That's quite a mess there, Virgil. You should really be more careful."

Virgil flipped him the bird, which of course only made him laugh. He ignored it in favor of turning back toward Logan. The alien was dancing with lights all singing so brightly it was near hard to look at and with so many colors Virgil's empty stomach attempted to rebel.

"What the Hell, man?” Virgil squinted and raised a hand to blot out the sight, while his heart was fluttering like a butterfly over a fucking venus fly trap. “What's wrong?"

Logan's lights briefly concluded, shutting off like he was taking a deep breath and then flickering back on at a less intense, less violent pace. His lower arms crossed themselves while his upper arms kneaded the table.

"You!" Logan snarled, "You two are my problem!"

Virgil's shoulders tensed and his back straightened and every single thought of his when careening out the goddamn airlock in the void. Because, yeah, this was it! This was the start to every single nightmare Virgil had ever had since joining the crew: Logan the only one who had wanted him around, the one who brought him here and gave him a place to stay, the one was now fed up with him for something he didn't realize he was doing wrong and now going to kick him off into space or sell him back to the Welsors or something equally terrible that Virgil can't even imagine because he's not entirely space savvy yet. And the worst part would be that Virgil didn't even know what he was doing wrong! And he dragged Janus into it by default which meant Janus was getting the same punishment and then Janus would hate him for getting them into the same mess all over again and Virgil can withstand a lot but the mere idea of Janus sneering at him and pushing him away had hislungs shrinking right there in his chest, shriveling up as a way to make it easy for him to just die--

Janus slipped off the table in a fluid motion and landed softly next to Virgil. He placed a hand on Virgil's shoulder blade but used the other to help clean up some of his dropped breakfast and the slipped tea with a towel he materialized out of who knows where. "Breathe," Janus's words ghosted into Virgil's brain without him actually having to say them. "Breathe and relax."

Logan let out a frustrated screech again, "I do not understand! You both are confusing me!" His lights flicked again harshly around his neck notches, "Please just tell me: what is the human greeting custom?"

"The what now?" Virgil asked all eloquently out of breath and strained and near dying. His heartbeat was thumping in his throat, like a frog and no amount of breathing could get the foggy panic to subside.

Logan, though, appeared to be oblivious to his plight. He pulled out a pocket notebook, and flipped through it angrily. "Roman reported that when you two saw each other you had- and I quote-- "open mouth kissed in the grossest display of love I have ever seen, you should have been there Lo it was terrifying seeing Virgil looking so emotional" end quote. However!! I have been documenting your interactions on the ship and out of seventeen times that you two have greeted each other, only six times have those been with kissing and only twice has it been with tongue--"

"OKAY!" Virgil screeched, cutting him off. “That’s enough Science for today and probably tomorrow, too!”

Logan plowed on like he hadn’t even spoken, “--On the days that you two do not greet each other with a kiss, your interactions range from a nod, to actually speaking words, to brushing a hand over one or the other or to becoming hostile-- although Patton has informed me that those last interactions may be considered as “play fighting” or “flirting”. As you can see there is a large amount of inconsistency--”

“Oh my god, Logan,” Virgil begged, “How long have you been watching us?”

“Eighteen days, six phisannu, and eleven qisannu.” Logan recited.

“Jesus…” Virgil dug his chin into his chest and forced himself to exhale long and slow. Eighteen days? That was just about when Janus and Remus had first come aboard. Now that he was thinking about it….yeah Logan had been watching them closer than normal. Virgil had been so distracted by Janus being alive and breathing and not dead, that he had written off most everything else.

Speaking of, he peaked up at Janus, at Janus’s stupid smirk and his shaking shoulders and realized, the jerk was laughing.

“You knew about this?” Virgil accused, launching a hand in the distressed Logan’s direction.

Janus held up a jiggly cube of alien food and ever so sweetly winked at him. “I had my suspicions. He is hardly subtle when it comes to taking notes.”

“And you let him?!”

“Who am I to get in the middle of a scientist’s project?”

Logan gave another frustrated screech and tossed his upper arms into the air. “So you’ve been intentionally messing with my observations instead? You have been manipulating my data! No wonder I cannot get a significant answer!”

“You could have just asked us,” Virgil groaned. He grabbed another Jello-like cube and put it in his empty bowl. His stomach growled faintly at the smell of them, because while they tasted like cough syrup they gave off the aroma of fresh strawberries. Was it wrong to want to eat them off the floor? Surely Patton had just cleaned the kitchen and really Virgil had eaten worse back on Earth and hadn’t died. Could he die of alien germs?

Janus plucked the next Jello cube from his hand and put it in the bowl as if he knew exactly what Virgil was thinking and taking action against it like the killjoy he was.

It was hard to make out Logan’s exact expression because of the thick light blocking glasses he was wearing, but Virgil thought he could guess. Tenekarie expressions were similar enough to humans that he could see the “I’m regretting everything” look from galaxies away.

“Roman told me that it was rude to ask a human about their customs,” Logan said.

“And you listened to him?” Janus asked, not at all delicately. Logan made a series of noises in the back of his throat that sounded suspiciously like an engine dropping out of warp drive.

“Roman literally calls us Deathworlders,” Virgil pointed out.

“Roman is also more experienced in the customs of other species than I am,” Logan said, stubbornly. “I am perhaps one of the only ones of my kind to venture off world. Social niceties of other species do not make sense to me.”

“Logan, you literally taught me how to speak,” Virgil said. “All you had to do was ask. I would tell you anything.” And it wasn’t even a lie. If Logan asked him to explain the governing system from back on Earth, Virgil would begrudgingly rack his brain for all he knew about the Electoral College from eighth grade Government class.

“But you greatly dislike talking about humans!” Logan snapped his pocket notebook closed, his upper hands twisted in the air like he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with them. “I do not know much of anything about human expressions and culture, but your mood greatly decreases when Earth is mentioned and you are caused great distress when any one of us attempt to uncover knowledge of your childhood.”

Virgil was well aware of the eyes on him: both Logan’s hidden light sensitive ones and Janus’s curious heterochromic ones. He plopped another cube in the bowl and stood up, measuring out his breaths as evenly as he could.

“I mean, I guess--” Virgil tried to play it off like his mind wasn’t furiously fighting off unwelcome memories, like he was perfectly fine and there was nothing wrong with where this conversation was going at all, period. “You could have still asked.”

Logan’s face pinched. “What sort of friend would I be if I caused you intentional distress?”

Janus didn’t say anything, just sat back on his hunches and watched Virgil with that critical gaze of his. Virgil could barely even remember the last time Janus had to analyse him for information. Was it before the Robotics Show from Hell or later when they were lying on the floor of Janus’s room for the first time so sleep deprived that they were enjoying each other's company? It was the look he used when he was picking apart words and tone and emphasis and intention, the look he used when he was weedling his way into someone’s mind and figuring out how they thought, the look he used when he was filling in gaps of information without needing to ask.

Virgil didn’t necessarily hate when Janus did it to him, but it made his body go rigid and his eyes stiffly avoid contact and connection and all the things that amateur profilists used to determine when one was lying and telling the truth.

Virgil sighed out another breath, “Alright, alright.” He left the bowl on the counter and sat down in one of the chairs at the table, opening his palms to Logan. “Ask your questions.”

Logan’s lights slowed, flooding purple and green with dashes of red in between, Northern Lights style. He tapped two of his four fingers on the table across from Virgil as if he wasn’t satisfied with Virgil suddenly opening up.

“I do not want to bring harm to your emotional status,” the alien said.

“Whatever he doesn’t want to answer, I will,” Janus offered, pulling himself up off the ground and brushing imaginary space dirt off his pants (which were actually Virgil’s, because they still hadn’t stopped somewhere to pick up supplies. Not that Virgil was complaining. Janus calves really stood out in the slim fit). Janus smiled without teeth and Virgil saw Logan doing an extensive overthinking process before finally nodding.

“Okay,” Logan said. “What is the normal way for humans to greet each other?”

“Depends,” Virgil said.

There was a beat of silence, before Janus huffed and sat himself on Virgil’s lap. “What he means, Logan, is that humans have a lot of ways to greet each other based on their relationship to one another. The closer the relationship the more personal the greetings tend to be. I might greet a new acquaintance with a handshake, but hug a close friend or ruffle the hair of a younger cousin.”

Logan scribbled something in his notebook, which Virgil knew from experience was in ancient Tenekarie language as well as in a code that only Logan knew the key of. Supposedly it helped keep all his information organized and prevented theft but they had yet to encounter someone willing to fight Logan for his information.

“These things change between humans,” Virgil added, “In some families it might be normal to kiss a relative on the cheek, and in others that can be weird or uncomfortable. Between cultures too.”

“Cultures?” Logan repeated, “How many cultures are on your planet?”

“Please don’t make me count them,” Virgil said.

Janus shuffled so he was better seated in between Virgil’s thighs. “Perhaps it's easier to explain like this: if there is something for humans to disagree over, there is a different culture for it.”

Logan stopped writing to look up at them. When neither of them corrected each other he hummed. “That sounds truly chaotic and ill designed.”

Virgil shrugged, “Its not all that bad.” He carefully carted his fingers through Janus’s hair. It was soft, a little greasy because it had been a day and a half since he showered and he smelled like the healing aloe even though the scars on his face were as healed as they were getting. Still he was warm to the touch and Virgil felt himself practically melting into him.

“Sometimes it's really cool,” Virgil said. “You meet people from an entirely different way of life and if everyone doesn’t suck, you get to learn something new.”

“Suck?” Logan echoed confusedly, but Janus warded it off with a wave of his hand and a sip of his tea.

“Many cultures,” Janus summarized, “Many ways to greet each other. Next question.”

Logan accepted the answer with all the grace of the Tenekarie. “From my observations, kissing is a very personal act. This means that you two have a very personal relationship, correct?”

“Yes,” They answered together.

Logan nodded. “So what is your relationship?”

Virgil’s fingers froze midway through their path in Janus’s hair. “Uhhh…”

Janus frowned, and looked back at Virgil. Even now their faces were less than a couple inches apart and his breath smelled pretty awful, but Virgil didn’t think he could push him away even if all life in the cosmos depended on it. It was something about his eyes-- always about his eyes. Virgil had probably made a million metaphors and similes about his eyes before and he could probably make a million more and still not manage to capture his quintessential essence of him.

It was nearly embarrassing as all hell. Middle School Virgil who righteously suffered through all English classes would be completely mortified to know that he had turned into a poetic sap who liked to make love songs out of the way that Janus’s lips taste and the rhythm of his heartbeat. All those times he had ripped up his own emo writing and now he was trying to figure out if “vivacious” rhymed with “Janus” because there was no other way to describe how his heart was acting any time the other boy fluttered his eyelashes.

Maybe words weren’t enough, maybe they would never be enough. Janus would probably know better anyway, because he knew so many different words in different languages, but Virgil would rather eject himself into space than admit all those very real, very mushy, very gushy emotions in his head.

Maybe that was the reason why Virgil was breathlessly staring into Janus’s eyes scrambling for an answer he wasn’t sure even existed.

Poor little Virgil, who never got a chance to tell Janus how he felt three years ago and now chased him down in Space and still couldn’t get the words “I’m super fucking gay for you” out unironically. It wasn’t like Janus didn’t know. Virgil knew he knew already. The words weren’t necessary between them, when they could look at each other and recognize that they’d do anything for each other.

How can he put a name to that? Virgil didn’t think there was a name.

The emotion in his chest, the burning desire in his heart, the hum in his soul that finally settled when Janus was next to him-- those weren’t things that Virgil thought had a name. It wasn’t simple to explain, not like sadness, or anger, or fear.

It was dangerous, Virgil knew. Because it was the emotion, the feeling, the urge that made him want to bend over backwards for Janus’s smile, that made him bullheaded enough to sneak over the mansion walls into the Ekans Estate and climb the trellis to the Janus’s bedroom window, that made him want to pick out Prom Tuxes and dream of a perfect world where Janus’s parents didn’t hate the mere idea of Virgil. Virgil had done stupid things for the sake of Janus’s real smile already; what was stopping him from doing more? What was stopping him from doing stupider things? Virgil would fight the whole world, dozens of worlds, thousands for the sake of Janus.

And Logan wants him to define a dedication like that in a simple relationship status?

“Oh my god,” Janus said, staring at Virgil, “You are way over thinking this.”

He rotated on Virgil’s lap and faced Logan with a look of determination that Virgil was honestly a little terrified of. “Our relationship is Fuckbuddies, okay? Fuckbuddies with emotions.”

“EXCUSE ME,” Virgil yelped, “What?!”

“Fuck.” Janus said, “Buddies.” Deliberately. Slowly. Cheekily. “Am I wrong, Virgil?”

And oh.

Virgil was right there, right next to Janus’s lips, right next to his wide eyes and soft, very kissable lips, right next to--

And then suddenly he was closer.

Kissing Janus was like setting himself on fire, but in a good way or whatever. Virgil didn’t know. In a single breath Janus managed to make him stupid, caused him lose focus of everything around him, drew him in and held him tight in his clutches until Virgil honestly forgot what his own name was. All that matter was Janus, Janus’s hands cupping Virgil's face, and Janus’s sneaky clever little tongue was darting between Virgil’s lips, searching for a gap between his teeth--

“Pardon my interruption,” Logan said. Like a beacon of light in the middle of a rainstorm, like the fire alarm in the middle of the night, like Janus’s mother knocking on the door to ask why he’s still awake when Virgil is not welcomed in her home and he’s currently lounging on the bed next to Janus.

Virgil yanked back on instinct and Janus gave him a toothy, smug grin in return. The boy in his lap patted Virgil’s cheeks, and licked his lips again because he was an asshole and Virgil was very much blushing across his entire face.

“But what exactly is a-- What did you say?” Logan tapped his pen, “A Fuckboodie?”

“A fuckbuddy,” Janus repeated the English word which he did not bother to try and convert to any sort of alien language.

“Yes,” Logan said. “That. What is that?”

Virgil was so lost in the sensation of Janus running his thumb over Virgil’s lips, of the sight of Janus looking all coy on Virgil’s lap, twisting just ever so much….he totally completely missed what Janus said next.

The next thing he knew Janus was plucking himself out of Virgil’s lap drawing his fingers across the underside of Virgil’s chin and walking away with a sway in his hips that definitely wasn’t there before and definitely impossible to look away from. He was hypnotizing all the way out the door and out of sight.

“--Virgil?” Logan said.

Virgil blinked twice. “What the fuck just happened?”

Logan adjusted his glasses, “Janus said that you would be better suited for answering what a fuckboodie was… are you okay?”

Virgil couldn’t help but laugh, “Asshole.” He shook his head slightly, but he couldn’t keep that stupid smile off his face. Absently he wondered if his cheeks should be hurting this much from smiling. When was the last time he smiled this much? Had he ever?

“Virgil, I will admit, you are starting to scare me,” Logan said. “It is very unlike you to act so…aloof and whimsical. Ever since I have known you, you have been very direct and, well, possibly paranoid. Is there perhaps a pheromone that Janus is giving off that is making you like this?”

“Pheromone?” Virgil repeated to make sure he heard that right, “Pheromone? Humans don’t give off like pheromones-- at least I don’t think they do? At least not pheromones that other humans can really pick up on. I think I read a Wikipedia article about some basic stuff that suggested early humans did but Janus can’t and doesn’t-- I’m not acting weird.”

Logan didn’t say anything and Virgil felt the weight of his own words come careening back down on him. Like a guillotine.

“Okay, maybe I’m acting a little weird,” Virgil allowed, with a sigh. He gently touched the underside of his chin where Janus had drawn his fingers. The ghost imprint of his fingertips made him shiver and maybe hold that stupid fond smile longer than he meant to.

Logan wrote something in his notebook with the fluidity that made Virgil certain he was writing down possible pheromones types.

“Janus and I are not fuckbuddies,” Virgil blurted out, if only to distract him. “We’re uh...what’s the word…” Boyfriends. Lovers. Stupid Idiots. Best Friends. Don’t they all mean the same thing between the two of them, anyway? “Partners.”

“Romantic partners?”

“Yes.” Virgil said. He picked up Janus’s abandoned tea and twisted the tea bag around his finger. “Yeah.”

Logan tracked the motion, as shown by the tilt of his head and the press of his lips together. The lights racing through his body slowed further into a contemplative tempo, something that someone could slow dance too, not that Virgil was thinking of slow dancing or anything. He was a scorned poetic, not a masochist.

The tea tasted like Jasmine although Virgil doubted any planets this far from Earth produced the plant they were used to.

“You are happy,” Logan stated. Which very much sounded like an unchangeable fact than a guess or an observation.

Virgil blinked at the sudden change of tone, but he nodded carefully. “Yeah?”

“Janus makes you happy.” Logan stated again.

“Yeah,” Virgil answered again. He couldn’t help but feel like he was taking a test suddenly, like Logan was his Spanish Teacher and he was being graded on his pronunciation in front of the entire class, like there was a lot riding on his every answer but he couldn’t figure out the trick that was going on.

Logan tapped his writing pen on his notebook, and drummed two fingers from another hand on the edge of the table, much like Virgil’s actual Spanish Teacher when she was about to fail him.

“I am causing you distress,” Logan said leaning back, “I apologize. My line of thinking was not intended to make you uncomfortable. Through my observations and with the help of your answers I am formulating conclusions--”

“That is way too much thinking for this early in the morning, Logan.” Virgil told him, shifting slightly. “Really too much--

“Were you unhappy?”

Virgil froze.

He felt his blood run cold and turn to ice crystals in his veins, cutting off all feeling to his extremities. He felt the warmth disappear from his cheeks, felt the air in his lungs come to an absolute stop and the vacuum of space suck away every moderately decent feeling he was having. Virgil had never been tossed out into space but he figured that this feeling was pretty close to how his carbon based body would react to Absolute Zero.

“We have known you for two years,” Logan continued, talking much like he was the dam and the words were the water breaking through his barriers and drowning them both. “Ever since we picked you up from TS-1219, you have portrayed a certain personality: you don’t smile, despite having told us that humans smile to show happiness, you’ve always held yourself at a distance and been closed off about your past. You have always been a difficult person to get to know, although Roman, Patton, and I have put forth a valiant effort to befriend you, Virgil. However in just the short time Janus and Remus have been on our ship, you have-- you have--”

His upper arms writhed in the air with hopelessness bordering on frustration that was covering some other emotion Virgil couldn’t quite pick out and was afraid to pick out. This was Logan, and he didn’t do “hopeless”. He had a plan for everything. He was the anchor in the storm, the calm in the chaos, the reassurance in the panic. When Virgil had lost everything and everyone, Logan had shown up and pulled him out of that dark place.

“Were you unhappy?” Logan asked quietly with all his lights going dark, “Did we make you unhappy?”

Virgil's mouth moved, but the lack of oxygen in his lungs twisted his insides into a mess, wriggling like a knot of snakes that were devouring each other. Before he even knew what he was doing he sprung across the table, catching Logan in the Cosmos’s Most Awkward Hug ever. Janus’s stupid tea spilled again but Virgil couldn’t have cared less about getting hot leaf juice on himself when Logan was sitting across from him wondering if he was the reason that Virgil had hated living for so long.

Logan was larger than him, but Virgil fit his arms between Logan’s upper and lower ones and held him as tight as he could, tighter than he could, tightly enough to convey all the words he couldn’t articulate. He buried his face into Logan’s crystal collarbone just as Logan’s probably completely confused, maybe a little terrified arms circle back around to tentatively hold him back.

“Vir...gil…” He whispered. “What…?”

“No, no, nonono,” Virgil said, “No, Logan. I wasn’t-- I’m not-- I swear--”

There was something warm trailing down his cheeks, and it took him a half a quisannu to realize, oh, those were tears. His tears.

He was crying.

Logan floundered his upper arms. “Virgil you-- your eyes--!”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said.

Logan made a hysterical noise in the back of his throat, running lines of agitated lights up and down his arms. Virgil could feel the warmth of them as he pressed his face into Logan’s chest, like holding his palm to a birthday candle. The alien smelled like dish soap-- the fancy stuff that the Ekans kept in their kitchen that made the best bubbles at two in the morning when they were trying to clean up any signs that they had been making cookies.

“I do not understand why you are apologizing,” Logan said desperately, “Please do not apologize! I was the one who asked--”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said again, “That I made you… fuck, Lo...Did I really…?” He sucked in a dangerous breath, an urgent, determined, dire breath and forced it back out.

“You guys made me so happy, Lo,” Virgil told him. “You don’t… you really don’t know how happy you guys made me.”

Because they did make him happy. They made him so stupid happy. Virgil’s favorite memories were the ones where Patton was hopping around the kitchen, experimenting with new foods and sweeping everyone else in to dances, the ones where Roman was polishing his sword collection and telling the corresponding tales for each weapon, the ones where Logan read off science tidbits to the room and got excited for new experiments in testing, the ones where the others let him play around with their broken electronics and he created something ultimately useless but that the others were so amazed over. They were the memories that bandaged up the gaping wound in his heart and finally allowed it to heal over, the ones that reminded him he could smile, that there were still things to smile about.

They pulled him out of the black hole of despair he’d fallen into, they brushed the Welsor fighting ring’s dirt off of him, and they accepted him-- even when Patton had started out so terrified of him and Roman was so distrustful and Logan was struggling to climb that language barrier between them.

When Janus had disappeared from Earth, Virgil had been left empty. The three of them had filled him up again.

And they hadn’t asked for anything in return for it.

Virgil wasn’t sure how to tell Logan that in definite words, in concrete breaths, in a way that didn’t dredge up the memories of who he was before Logan, Patton, and Roman. Because he was sorry he ever made them doubt how happy Virgil had been with them, that he made Logan so scared he had to ask the question out loud, that he hadn’t realized his actions could have been perceived that way at all.

Sometimes Virgil forgot as alien as they were to him, he was just as much as an unknown to them.

There were a billion, million, trillion stars in all the galaxies and Virgil would give them all up for the sake of the people he called family. Screw Earth and the Human Race; Virgil had already decided he didn’t want to save his own last name. He didn’t want the people that he had grown up with.

He wanted the three aliens and Janus and hell maybe even Remus too, when the guy stopped trying to sell them to the Space Pirates of the Caribbean. He wanted to travel and see nebulas, watch the death of a star and the formation of a sun and all that stupid stuff he never thought he was ever gonna see.

He wanted to be able to turn around and grasp at the nearest person and ask “Are you seeing this?! Isn’t it so fucking cool?!” Because that was his deepest desire, what he saw in the Mirror of Erised, what he would be happy doing for the rest of his tiny, insignificant life.

There was a thin line between being content and being happy and Virgil had walked on the far side of it for most of his life. Before Janus, he had clawed his way through his parent’s disappointed gazes and he had resigned himself to being content on the days where they’d rather ignore him than ask him if he had gotten any better at kissing his teachers shoes. Before Janus’s death, he had been content with those stolen late nights with Janus and happy with the cherished few hours he could get away with.

Before, before, before. Virgil had been content with what he had. He wrapped himself around those things that brought him warmth and he held onto those memories even when they burned him-- even when Janus’s ghost had been laughing in his ears and he had torn himself apart missing it, he clung to the concept of it. He had been content once upon a time, and he was content knowing that even if he had never reached that state again.

But now?

Now, he was more than content.

He was happy.

Because Janus wasn’t dead and he had Logan, Patton, and Roman who wanted him around. Because he was in space and learning new things. Because it was everything he had never dared dreamed of and more.

“Oh Great Disney,” A voice behind them said, “What did you do to him, Pocket Calculator?”

Logan shifted slightly, but he did not go as far as to try to remove Virgil from clutching him. Even from behind closed eyes, Virgil could tell he was giving off purple flashes in regular slow inverals, the type that usually calmed Virgil down when he was waking up from a nightmare and couldn’t get imaginary alien blood out from under his nails.

“I ah… I’m afraid I’m not entirely certain,” Logan admitted. “He mentioned that perhaps I was doing too much thinking this early in the rotation.”

Roman-- Virgil couldn’t think of another person who’s footsteps could sound so dramatic other than Janus, but Janus didn’t have a tail-- let out a huff, “Yeah well! I would also burst into tears if you started talking about warp cores and all that junk before I got my Shishdouble.”

“Is that what this is?” Logan asked tiredly. “Crying?”

There were some sounds of things being pushed around, cabinets being opened and closed; Roman must have been looking for food. A specific type of food. The food that Virgil had already poured all over the floor and then cleaned up hurriedly and placed back on the counter.

“Uh yeah,” Roman said, “Seriously, what did you say to him? Virge, whatever it was, I’m sure he didn’t mean--where is my Shishdouble?”

Virgil gave Logan another, last tight squeeze and untangled himself from the rocky alien. He was a little wobbly standing back up, but he managed and he even got to rub away the slight tear tracks on his cheeks.

“Sorry, Lo,” He rasped out.

Logan was peering at him curiously and Roman, too, now. The latter had a spoon in his mouth and was watching from next to the counter, his bone plates clacking together in what Virgil thought might have been surprise.

It took Virgil a moment to figure out why. He was sure he looked great: his bed head was probably still in effect and he was wearing a sleep shirt with too many holes in it, not to mention the way his face grew blotchy when he cried and the red rim to his eyes.

But even through all that, he was smiling. Teeth and all. Oh God, when was the last time he smiled like this? Had he ever?

“You broke him!” Roman hissed.

“I didn’t--!!” Logan snapped back.

And Virgil laughed. It felt a bit like he was letting go of a weight he didn’t know he was holding, like an invisible straight jacket being cut off him, like he had been drowning his entire life and just now came up for air for the first time.

“S-sorry,” He laughed between gasps for breath, “I-- oh fuck, god, sh-shit! I’m sorry!”

“Don’t let Pat hear you say that,” Roman said, “You’ll make both his hearts give out with such strong language.”

“I have already said this, but it bears repeating,” Logan said, “You do not need to apologize, Virgil. I appeared to have overstepped your boundaries with my personal questions and that is my fault. I should be apologizing to you.”

“Disney, guys,” Roman moaned. His tail knocked against the counter, “Just how deep did the two of you get this morning? Its only the seventh Phisannu.”

Virgil laughed again, shorter, lighter.

Because he was happy.

Not just content with things, but happy.

Happier than he thought he had ever been.

“To answer…” Virgil said, looking at Logan, “to answer your question, Lo, I am the happiest fucking man in the galaxy. I am living my best life. If I die right now I will have, like, no regrets at all.”

Logan and Roman shared a look. Roman sucked on his spoon for a second before popping it back out and using it to point at him.

“So this whole…. “Pleasant personality” gimmick is sticking around?” The Erefren asked, sounding damn near disappointed. “You’re much less entertaining to make fun of when you’re upbeat.”

“You like kicking men when they’re down, Princey?”

“Only when they attempt to steal the 350 griot Shishdouble that I bought for myself and specifically told them not to even think about taking.” Roman pointed to Virgil’s abandoned bowl of jello like cubes. They jiggled in accordance with the barely recognizable power of the distant engines.

“Who says I wasn’t getting it for you?” Virgil asked sweetly. “Maybe I was being a decent person!”

Roman blinked several times, twisting between Virgil and the bowl. Virgil could see the moment his suspicions melted away: Roman’s telltale tail started wriggling in the air behind him dangerously close to lodging into the cupboards (Which, unfortunately would not have been a new occurrence, but Virgil doubted that Patton and Logan’s combined budget plan included funds for new cabinet doors. Again.) His face flushed purple in a way that suggested he was letting himself be flattered and he picked up the bowl delicately.

“Oh, well,” He said, “That was really nice of you, Vee. This “kind actions” routine is different but I think we could all certainly get used to it! Needless to say no small actions will go unappreciated under my watch from here on out!”

“You trust me way too much,” Virgil told him as he took an exaggerated bite of his stupid cough syrup tasting Jello.

“Wait what--”

Logan winced from his spot at the table, “He poured that all over the floor.”

“Unapologetically,” Virgil added, because being nice was overrated and watching Roman get an impressive distance with his spit take was his new favorite breakfast event.

The Erefren pawed at his purple tongue and spit the rest of the half eaten Jello on the floor. He cursed in his native language, growled something in Common, and threw the bowl back on the counter.

“You heathen!” He cried. “You don’t mess with a man’s food! Don’t you know how much that cost me?”

“Is now a bad time to tell you I used the last of your shampoo last night?”

Roman’s bone plates clicked and then fanned out, oozing the red toxin that his race was known wildly for. He growled, baring his teeth and took a threatening step towards Virgil.

“I’ll take that as a “no”,” Virgil said, and offered a quick double thumbs up to Logan, “Like I said, no regrets!” Then he sprinted towards the door back to the inner bowels of the ship.

Roman let out an Erefren warcry and charged after him.

Erefrens were fast, but Virgil was faster. By just a little bit. It also helped that Virgil was able to dodge the sleepy Patton coming around the corner when Roman tripped right over him-- if the series of thuds and slew of curses were anything to go by. Virgil thought about turning to check but then a bone lodged into the wall mere inches from his face and the flight instincts kicked in again.

“Hey Pat! Bye Pat!” Virgil yelled.

“Careful!” Patton’s voice called after him. “No Running in the halls--”

“I’m gonna eject you into Space, you Deathworlder!” Roman bellowed drowning out the rest of Patton’s helpful advice. “My Shishdouble! Virgil! Have you no honor?!”

And yeah, Virgil thought that if every morning started like this for the rest of his life….he wouldn’t mind it. At all.

Out here in Space? He was happier than he thought he could ever be.

#sanders sides #Virgil Sanders #Janus Sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #Alien Au #anxceit #platonic analogical #Sympathetic Deceit #eighteen pages of Virgil being a happy boy in space #humans are space orcs #sometimes I just want them to be happy #okay? okay #1am editing spree #rip Romans Shishdouble #and his shampoo #Virgil being a little shit #wow I said fuck a lot in this

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two-simps-and-a-google-doc · 4 years

Text

“The Most Dangerous Thing is to Love”

Oneshot?

Note: This is just a little fic before we get back into Tiny Galaxies :D The fic also has the entire lyrics of Achilles Come Down in it.

Genre: ANGST. Specifically Roman Angst

Ship: None

TW: Cursing, death, sympathetic Remus, falling, self-doubt/deprecation..??, crying

Let us know if we missed anything!

Word Count: 467

Roman sat in his room, his dull monochrome room, scrolling through an online library. Yes, it wasn’t something he would normally do, but he was bored out of his mind and wanted to try new things. However, even then, he was getting more bored than he was before. “Achilles, Achilles, Achilles…” he murmured to himself. Almost every good-seeming book always had to do with Achilles. It’s not that he didn’t like him, it’s just that he’d rather more...variety of the topics. He sighed and decided to go through Tumblr.

And then a thought struck him. It wasn’t a good thought, no, but it was a thought nonetheless. ‘What if you jumped off a cliff?’

He blinked and stopped scrolling, staring off into nothing. It sounded like such a...a Remus-esque thought, but he couldn’t help but imagine it. The wind rushing past him as the ground beneath him slowly crumbled from his weight. The faint but not silent screams of “come down!” before he would fall backwards.

He could imagine what they would do. What they would say to get him to stop. He remembered what they said the last time he had tried something like this.

"Won't you get up off? Get up off the roof!"

They had stopped him. They had paid him more attention, made him feel listened to.

Until they stopped.

It had lasted for a month at most, then things went back to the way they were before.

Before he almost took his final step.

He remembered exactly what they said. After that month, it all seemed like lies. They were all lying to him, weren’t they? “You’re scaring us, and all of us...some of us love you!”

He felt so embarrassed that he even listened. That he believed them...those poisonous words that felt and sounded so warming.

And they still were. They were the shreds of warmth he still held on to after all these years as cold and empty sounding words surrounded him. He missed those golden days when warmth and kindness was everywhere, in every corner, every crevice...but now they just seem so rare. And when they did occur, it was either for someone else or out of pity.

'Achilles. I'm their Achilles heel.'

Their words were ingrained into his mind. He had made the mistake to open up to them, giving them free ammunition to use against him. It was stupid. Stupid of him.

But he was stupid, wasn't he?

He told them of his insecurities. Well...some of them. Others were...private. They reassured him, crushing his self-doubt with that one phrase.

"It's not much but there's proof."

He didn't know what that meant until now. He should have figured it out sooner, then all of this would have been solved earlier. Maybe it would have been fixed. Who was he kidding? He couldn't be fixed.

Not now.

He knows what those words mean now. 'You crazy assed cosmonaut, remember your virtue.'

And sure, he could..”forgive” them for these false words of encouragement. These- these blatant lies that he was too blind to see past. As Janus once said, “redemption lies plainly in truth.”

But at this point, what was true and what was fake? He couldn’t exactly use a lie detector, and he didn’t fully trust Janus yet.

Years of lies and manipulation left him lost in the void of uncertainty. He couldn't trust anyone, not since last time. He hated their pity, their fake sympathy for him. Every time they would ask him what was wrong all he heard was 'just humor us'. None of it sounded real. None of it sounded...genuine.

'Achilles, Achilles, that's all I'll ever be. I'm just their Achilles.'

Again, he thought of those words they spoke. The ones that somehow got him off that roof.

'Come down, won't you? Get up off….get up off the roof.'

He curled up into a ball on his bed, the phrase echoing within his mind. “Achilles, Achilles, Achilles...Come down! Won’t you get up off? Get up off the roof..”

He covered his ears in a futile attempt to make the voices shut up. But it just kept repeating...and repeating...and REPEATING…

His nails dug into his scalp, drawing a bit of blood. He felt tears threatening to fall from his eyes. Oh. How lovely. He was so..pathetic that he was crying over a simple phrase.

He was their Achilles’ heel, the point of weakness that shattered something much stronger. He was holding them back and it was all his fault. Maybe he shouldn’t have existed in the first place. If only the original creativity hadn’t split, then he wouldn’t even have a chance at being such a failure. He hated how they probably wanted him gone, how they only saved him in that moment just for pity. They hated him. He hated himself. Well..that’s one thing they’ll ever agree on, huh?

He had to do something. He had to get it over with. He uncurled himself, standing up on shaky feet. He sunk into the Imagination, not caring that he looked like shit at the time.

He took a deep breath, taking in the slightly chilled air. He never liked the hot much, preferring the spring breezes and fall chill. He walked along the path. Normally, he would have taken his time; talking to the animals or helping out a nearby villager.

But not this time.

He walked swiftly, practically running to his destination. He arrived, the setting sun bursting fiery colors across his skin. It was as if he had bursted through an unbreakable wall, finally falling through to the other side. He felt peace, standing a few inches away from a three hundred foot drop. Nothing stood in his way.

Not this time.

He smiled, tears quietly rolling down his cheeks. He closed his eyes, turning around with his back facing the sun. He held his arms out to the side, ready for the fall.

'The self is not so weightless, nor whole and unbroken.'

That was something Remus had come to understand. It was somewhat philosophical, moreso for his taste but that didn't make it any less true.

He was doodling in his notebook. Yes, he must admit, it was a rather mundane activity for him but today he just felt...off. He didn't feel as energetic, more...subdued. Which for Remus was really weird. He hasn't felt like this since…

Roman.

His eyes widened, body tensing up. He could still remember the determination and fear in his brother's eyes. And that...it scared him. No…

It terrified him.

He quickly sunk into his brother's room, praying to every god out there that this was just a fluke, that Roman was silently listening to music or writing a script. He arrived to an empty room, the only thing out of the ordinary being the still-open computer on the bed. That only meant one thing.

He left in a hurry.

He raced down to the living room, again wishing that Roman was just late for movie night. He was greeted by four surprised and annoyed faces, attention stolen from his sudden entrance. Upon seeing the pure panic in his face, the others were intrigued, straightening (hah) up a little and putting their full attention on him.

"Remus, what's wrong," Janus asked, a calm panicked tone in his voice. Remus felt the emotions from his brother worsen. He took a step forward, stumbling a bit.

"Ro...Roman. Have any of you seen Roman today?" he asked quietly, voice far off. They all said no, no one catching even a glimpse of the other creative side that day. Remus's stomach dropped, fear gripping his intestines. As he was about to say something else the emotions spiked, driving an invisible hammer into his chest.

He gripped his chest, stumbling his way over to one of the chairs to steady himself. He was panting, out of breath from the pain. The others perked up, Logan and Janus coming closer to find out what was wrong.

"Re, what was that? What's happening?" Virgil asked quietly from the couch, eyeshadow now a sickening black.

"It's..it's Roman. We...we need to find him. Now," Remus said. He sunk down, entering the Imagination and running. He knew where his brother was, he could feel it. He ran through the trees, the faint footsteps of the others following behind him. He saw the setting sun through the trees.

Then he saw Roman.

He had his back to the sun, tears rolling down his cheeks and a sad smile on his face. His arms were outstretched, ready to fall. Remus scurried to a stop, not wanting to scare Roman. He approached calmly, having arrived quicker than the others who were still making their way through the woods.

"Ro?" he asked quietly, trying not to startle his brother.

"Re? What are you doing here?" Roman replied calmly. He wasn't surprised by his brother's arrival, having felt him enter the realm.

"Ro, please don't do this. I...I can't lose you. Not again," Remus tried, repeating those same words he said long ago.

"I have to do this, Re," he said, determined. He had opened his eyes and dropped his hands, attention fully on Remus.

"...remember the pact of our youth?" Remus asked quietly, eyes dull and distant.

"Where you go, I'm going. How could I forget?" Roman recited. He had a fond look on his face, remembering the time he and his brother had made the particular pact.

"I figured you wouldn't have. Listen Ro, you don't have to do this. You know you don't. It was that little brain of yours wasn't it? They can be deceiving little devils, I know. It's telling you to throw it away, to get rid of yourself so the rest of us can start over. It's not true. You need to know that it's not true. Where you go, I'm going Ro. So jump and I'm jumping, since there's no me without you," he said, taking a step forward, trying to get closer to Roman in order to bring him off the ledge.

Roman would’ve stepped away if he weren’t on the edge of a cliff.

“..Maybe just this once, you could ‘break’ the pact. You have a life ahead of you, Re,” He muttered, a sad look on his face.

“And so do you! I wouldn’t ever break our pact, not even if I was offered 1000 deodorant sticks for it!” Remus replied, a little smile on his face. Roman laughed, but it died quite quickly before being replaced with a sigh.

“Soldier on, Achilles,” Remus started before Roman continued the saying that seemed to have worn oh-so thin.

“Achilles, come down. Won’t you get up off, get up off the roof?”

The fire in Roman’s eyes seemed to dim at the saying. It sounded like a go-to thing to say just to get him down, as if it really meant nothing. They were just words floating around in the air with no meaning. He realized that now. And even though he trusted Remus so much...he feared that those words had no meaning as well. His hands curled into fists.

“..Loathe the way they light candles in Rome,” he muttered. Everyone hated him. That was just the truth. Really, the only truth that he’d ever known, since he’s already realized that everything he’s been told was a lie.

“But love the sweet air of the votives,” Remus whispered, slowly reaching out to Roman. In response, Roman slightly narrowed his eyes at Remus.

“Hurt and grieve, but don’t suffer alone...Engage with the pain as a motive,” he continued. He barely acknowledged how…’out of character’ he was being. He didn’t put this much effort in...in motivating someone. But this was Roman he was talking to. His brother, his best friend ever since the Split. He’d felt so scared when Roman tried to jump last time, but right now he felt a bit..numb. Maybe in a good way, he didn’t know.

He couldn’t afford to lose Roman then, and he can’t afford to lose him now.

Roman didn't know why he felt like this. It was just a normal Tuesday, nothing was special and nothing had happened. It was a normal day, a normal morning. So why did he feel like this?

'Why? Today of all days, why do I feel like this?' he thought.

He knew Remus would try to come with him. It was in his nature. He huffed a laugh void of humor. Remus cocked his head in confusion.

"See how the most dangerous thing is to love? You'll try to come with me, won't you? You'll give up your life for me. Because of love. Why? Why would you throw your life away for me? " Roman questioned.

"Because, Roman, I love you, you idiot. You're my brother, I couldn't live without you if I tried," Remus answered, taking a small step forward that didn't go unnoticed by Roman.

"You'll get over me, Remus. You all will. I'm forgettable, unimportant. You'll be back to normal in a month at most. You're better off without me. Don't you know how much better off you are without me? How I won't even matter after a week? How you will heal and you'll rise above all that you are now? You don't need me. You're the better creativity," Roman confessed, eyes tearing up once more. Remus looked shocked, not knowing the true extent of his feelings until now.

'Achilles, Achilles, Achilles. I'll always be their Achilles.'

"Do you know what my brain is telling me right now? Jump now. You are absent of cause or excuse. So self-indulgent and self-referential, no audience could ever want you. You crave the applause, yet hate the attention. Then miss it. Your act is a ruse. It is empty, Achilles, so end it all now. It's a pointless resistance for you," he practically ranted, getting angrier at every word. He took a few steps towards Remus, tears now flowing down his face.

Remus was speechless, ironic for his character. He didn't know Roman felt that way. He had thoughts like that often but he learned to deal with them. Sometimes in an unprofessional way.

He could have helped. He would have helped. He would have been there for Roman every step of the way.

If only he'd known.

But maybe...he should’ve known already. He remembered the last time Roman tried to jump, every single detail. Maybe if he’d examined a bit more, if he’d paid more attention. Then he could’ve stopped this from even happening.

“Achilles, Achilles! Just- put down the bottle...Don’t listen to what you’ve consumed” He remembered someone saying. He remembered Roman with a whiskey bottle in his hand, swaying a little bit on the rooftop. He looked so disheveled, so different, so...sad. It wasn’t like the Roman that Remus knew. It was obvious that something was bothering Roman but he didn’t even bother to help, did he? This was his fault. It’s his fault that Roman was trying to jump, it’s his fault that-

No. No it’s not his fault. Really, if he was gonna get deep with this, it’s nobody’s fault. At least he didn’t think so.

“Look, I- your thoughts..it’s chaos, confusion, and wholly unworthy of feeding, and it’s wholly untrue. I have those same thoughts, I can HELP you, Ro! All you need to do is get away from the cliff, alright? You may feel no purpose nor a point for existing, it’s all just conjecture and gloom,” he said softly, trying not to aggravate his brother. Roman stared at him with an emotion he couldn’t figure out, but he didn’t seem to be angry at him. It looked like he was listening.. He decided to go for a casual approach to ease up the tension a little bit.

“And there may not be meaning,” He shrugged. “So find one and seize it. Please, do not waste yourself on this roof.”

Roman laughed, albeit a bit sadly, “This isn’t even a roof, Remus.” Remus sputtered, “I knOW THAT!! It’s the thought that counts, not the WORDS.”

His brother laughed even more at that, leading Remus to laugh along as well.

For a second it seemed like everything was back to normal, that today they were just taking a walk in the woods and Remus had told a joke to make the other laugh. But that second was quickly gone as the laughter died down.

"See? I can help you, Ro. Can you hear those bells ring deep in the soul, chiming away for a moment? Feel your breath course frankly below. I can help you see life as a worthy opponent. Please, just- let me help," Remus pleaded, a smile on his face. Roman's face slowly fell, looking down at the ground sadly.

"I...you can't help me, Remus. I don't think anyone can at this point. Especially not today of all days," he confessed.

“See, how-” Remus started. He knew that there was some way to help Roman, some way to make things better. But he realized that’s just what he wanted to believe, not what was true.

“...the most dangerous thing is to love,” Roman finished, kicking the ground beneath him lightly.

Remus blinked a few times before giving a breathy laugh. Well, that wasn’t what he was actually going to say. “How you will heal and you’ll rise above,” He corrected, half-heartedly trying to keep up the illusion that things were back to normal. It was so very hard to accept that it wasn’t and that it might not ever will be.

“Crowned by an overture bold and beyond. It’s more courageous to overcome,” Remus concluded, leaning back slightly. He felt a bit...awkward? Since this was such an important situation and he was trying to play it off nonchalantly.

Neither of them noticed the four others approaching through the trees, aggravated and tired. They had gotten lost after Remus ran off, not knowing the Imagination as well as the two brothers did. It had taken them far too long to find the brothers but thankfully, they weren't too late. Or...at least they didn't think so.

Roman noticed the figures approaching, taking a step back towards the cliff and erasing any progress Remus had made with his brother. Remus sighed and turned around, seeing the four others with relief in their faces. They didn't know. They had no clue that finding them was the least of their problems.

Patton fought the urge to run up and hug Roman, Logan wanted to know what he did wrong, Virgil wanted this to be over, and Janus...he felt guilty. They had no clue Roman felt like this. They didn't even know that it was their fault.

"Oh thank god! Kiddo are you okay?" Patton asked Roman, relief on his face. He started to walk towards Roman, only for the latter to move his foot backwards towards the cliff edge. Patton stopped, holding his hands out in surrender, and took a step back.

As soon as the four had stepped through the trees Roman was frozen. All thoughts that begged him not to do this were whisked away, leaving only pure panic and fear in their place. His eyes were wide and his body was tense. His mind blocked out their words, their voices coming out muffled and distant. He tried to focus on their voices but he couldn't, only the ones in his head were loud enough to hear.

They filled the muffled silence in his ears, the words having been spoken to him by the others in the past.

"You want the acclaim, the mother of mothers."

"You want it all, don't you?"

The voices took the tone of the four sides, fully convincing Roman that they were saying them at that moment. His eyes were unfocused, only the faint feeling of someone to his right was present. He heard a voice cut through the other's.

"It's not worth it, Achilles."

No, no it is worth it. The other voices started up again.

"More poignant than fame or the taste of another."

"Don't listen, Achilles," the voice cut in again.

"But be real and just jump, you dense motherfucker."

"You're worth more, Achilles," it cut in again.

"You will not be more than a rat in the gutter."

"You're so much more than a rat."

"You want my opinion?"

"No one asked your opinion."

"My opinion you've got. You asked for my counsel?"

"No one asked for your thoughts."

"I gave you my thoughts."

"Be done with this now and jump off the roof."

That broke him out of his trance. No one had said that to him, not to his knowledge at least. If that didn't happen then that means…

Neither did anything else they had said so far.

"Can you hear me, Achilles? I'm talking to you."

He looked over to the figure on his right, the worried face of his brother looking back at him. He had been the one to drown out the voices, the one to break through the barrier in Romans mind. So far, he was the only one that could. And that included Roman.

“I’m talking to you, can you hear me? I’m talking to you,” Remus asked, snapping his fingers in front of Roman. “Did you hear what I said?” “U-Uhm...you said ‘I’m talking to you’. Th..That’s what I was supposed to say, right?” Roman responded, hoping he hadn’t answered wrong or heard the question incorrectly.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right. Achilles, come down…” Remus nodded, gently taking Roman’s hand and guiding him away from the cliff. The voices of the others were faint, but Roman could still make out the familiar phrase of ‘Achilles, come down’.

He hated the nickname, really. He didn’t need to be reminded how much of a...liability he was to the others. He didn’t WANT to be their weakness, the cause of their eventual downfall. He wanted to be gone and he knew the others wanted that too. Maybe not Remus, but everyone else. They hated him. He should’ve jumped right then and there. Maybe he could still do it now. Jump off the cliff and don’t look up, so he didn’t see their smiles of relief. Jump off right now and realize they won’t move to save him. Jump off. Jump off. JUMP OFF-

“You wanna know something cool about being called Achilles?” Remus asked, seemingly reading Roman’s thoughts.

“H-Huh?”

“Achilles was a hero, y’know? People know him for being the greatest of all the Greek warriors that ever existed. It sounds like such an honor to be called that, even once. The fact that you’ve basically claimed the nickname Achilles is just- so amazing...and I think you’re like him in a lot of ways. Courageous, brave, all that good shit. People also think he was gay with Patroclus and like- you’re pretty gay too, so-”

Roman snorted, “Really? You think so..?” “Depends on which part you’re talking about. I think you’re cool, but everyone KNOWS you’re gay as fuck, Ro.”

“Yeah, okay!”

Everything was normal. They were back to normal, everything was gonna be okay, they were all okay-

‘What if he was just saying that to distract you from the fact that the others probably don’t mean anything they say?’

Roman suddenly stopped, accidentally diving back into that trance of his. He could barely hear Remus say his name.

‘Throw yourself into the unknown with pace and a fury defiant’

His eyes widened slightly. His own mind was telling himself to jump..again. But it sounded so...mystical, so heroic. If it sounded as such, then maybe he should do it..? What if it made him a hero? The ones who had legends told of, the ones who had statues and places named after them. He could be a hero. He could finally be anything but a failure. He’d be what he always wanted to.

And nobody would hate him anymore..

'Clothe yourself in beauty untold and see life as a means to a triumph'

Because that's all life was, wasn't it? It's about winning, being the best you can be. You have to win to win at life. You have to win to survive.

Roman had learned that the hard way.

He was pulled out of his mind by the others, who had been trying to get Romans attention for quite some time now. He looked to them, eyes distant and cloudy. He looked nothing like the eloquent prince he pretended to be. He was now truly Roman. To the others, it was terrifying.

"...today of all days," he said quietly. The others paused, Remus tensing beside him.

"Wha-what? Roman, what does that mean?" Virgil asked, panicked.

“...See..” He continued, ignoring Virgil’s question.

Suddenly, he turned around and started running for the cliff, blocking out the others’ shouts for him to stop. He turned around at the last moment and fell back with his arms out. It...felt as beautiful as he thought it would be. The wind rushing past, flowing through his hair and clothes. He could feel his heart beat loudly, as if it would suddenly explode. This would be it. The finale, the ending. He closed his eyes, both ready and unprepared to hit the ground.

What he didn’t expect was a pair of arms wrapping around him. Wait...was he still falling? He opened his eyes in surprise. The wind was still there..

“How..the most dangerous thing is to love,” he heard a familiar voice say. He blinked and realized Remus had jumped with him, hugging as they fell to their eventual death. “I wasn’t lying,” Remus whispered.

Roman wrapped his arms around his brother tightly, tears falling from his eyes. Or..more like floated upward.

“How you will heal and you’ll rise above,” Remus whispered again, but more sadly. He tried putting on his usual, manic grin, but it seemed so out of place...so unnatural. It was fine, though. It was all that Roman needed in this moment. He smiled back, realizing Remus was crying as well.

“Crowned by an overture bold and beyond,” Roman said softly, hiccupping in between his words.

“...It’s more courageous to overcome,” They said in unison, holding each other tightly. They wouldn’t let go, not even for a second. It was scary but..calming at the same time. In fact, it was more..confusing. But that was okay. They had each other. And that would be okay. The last thing either of them saw was the other’s face, streams of warm sunlight across their faces.

“I love you” “I love you too”

There was a quiet and distant cracking noise. Nobody dared to look over that cliff, in fear of what they would see. Patton covered his mouth with his hand as he sobbed, collapsing to his knees. Virgil went to comfort Patton, but sobbing as well. Janus sighed sadly and wondered what he could’ve done differently to avoid this. The pain and sorrow would hit him later. Logan stood frozen where he was. He couldn’t comprehend all of this at once, not when two of his friends just DIED. He was pulled into a state of denial. Surely….surely they couldn’t be dead. Sides couldn’t die, right?

Right?

Words hurt, but sometimes, just silence hurt more. It dawned on them, how much they lost. What they’ll never get back. The realization that nothing would ever be the same. There would be no banter, no Disney songs late at night. There would be no dirty jokes at lunch, and while that might have been disturbing, it made things feel normal. And it was all gone.

If only Roman had known that he had already been a hero. He’d been their hero.

~ End ~

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currebunz · 4 years

Text

You Can Touch Stars Ch.36″ Playing with Prompto

AO3 Link

*NO MINORS/KIDS STAY CLEAR

The next day felt just as hot as yesterday. Peeling out of bed, you had to shake off a 'less than eager to release you' Prompto in order to get out of bed. He snuggled closer and murmured something as he tried to stay latched onto you. Over the years, you learned how to substitute yourself with the pillow without bothering him. Noctis was curled up on the other side of the bed, sleeping soundly. You looked up and saw that Ignis was already sitting with a cup of coffee while reading the newspaper. Gladiolus was doing pushups with a towel on his shoulder. "You two are always up so quickly" you yawned as you climbed out of bed. Gladiolus stopped his work out and stood up. "Well, you know how that goes for us," he said with a chuckle. Ignis snorted, a bit of his coffee spilling over the rim of the can. He grabbed a napkin and wiped around it. "You both seem very lively this morning, I was worried for nothing then," he said as he stood up and left. You watched him leave, giving Gladiolus a pointed look. "Where is he off to?" you asked. "Probably to the market, you know Ignis by now. He was mentioning we needed to keep stock of the important stuff" Gladiolus sighed. He walked out as well, probably going to check on Iris. You looked back at the bed, the last of your group still sleeping soundly. You weren't even going to try and wake Noctis, you knew better than that. But there was more to that feeling. Part of you felt sick and twisted at the jealousy you felt. He had looked relieved to hear Lunafreya was okay, which was a good thing. It was a good thing.

And you still couldn't shake this awful feeling of yours. Slapping your cheeks, you walked over to the side Prompto was sleeping on. He was still hugging the pillow with a silly grin on his face. You pinched his cheek, pulling at him. "Wake up, wake up," you said softly to him. To your surprise, Prompto laughed in his sleep. Pinching harder, you watched a pained expression grow on his face. He shot up from the bed and threw the pillow. "Don't eat me!" he screamed in panic. Prompto looked at you with a confused expression. "What kind of dream did you have?" you laughed to yourself. Prompto pouted, climbing out of bed and running his hand through his hair. "I didn't dream of anything" he scoffed. But you knew he was only trying to save face. "Well, what big plans did you have today?" you asked as you sat in one of the plush chairs in the room. Prompto ran his hand through his hair nervously, his eyes glancing to the mirror in the room. "Well, I'm going to freshen up before I reveal the big plans!" he said as he rushed to the bathroom. You knew he was trying to buy time but you didn't blame him. Now was such a weird time for everyone. When Prompto had left the bathroom, you took your turn to get ready. Once you were done, he seemed more put together than when he had woken up. "Okay, let's head out! We have a big day ahead of us" he had said proudly. "Do we now?" you said in an unconvinced tone. But Prompto remained vigilant, smiling brightly as he led you out of the hotel.

It was still hot, the dry heat of Lestallum seemed to never end. There wasn't a cloud in the sky as the two of you stepped out into the sun's harsh rays. Prompto had his camera in hand, looking around for something. "Hey, let's go over there!" he said. You followed him through the thick crowd in Lestallum, arriving on the street just across from the event square. You could see the horizon but there was a viewing spot up ahead. "Let me guess, you want a picture of the view?" you asked him. Prompto pressed his lips together in a pout, looking as if he was frustrated with you calling him out like this. "No..." he said quietly. But he walked with you to the small area anyway. You had to admit, the view was breathtaking. In the distance, you could see a large rock formation. It looked like smoke was rising from it as well. Behind you, the sound of a shutter going off reached your ears. You turned around in time to see Prompto taking a picture of you. "Prompto" you frowned at him. "Ehehe, sorry I couldn't help myself" he apologized with a sheepish grin. It wasn't that you minded, but it also puzzled you that he wanted to take pictures of you of all people. "Just make sure you get my good side" you laughed at him. "You know it!" Prompto grinned. You walked around with him a bit, stopping by a food stand. You had ordered something new, wanting to try the food in the city. As you ate, Prompto took pictures of you with your cheeks full. "Prompto!" you coughed as you turned away from him. "Aww, you are so cute! Like a chubby chocobo!" he cooed.

You reached for his camera playfully. "Delete it!" you demanded. But Prompto ran from you. "No way! This is a keeper!" he argued. Eventually, you gave up the chase as the two of you became distracted with the flyers on the walls. "A festival?" you said as you touched one of the flyers. Apparently, a festival would be held in Lestallum in a few weeks. "Yeah, looks like one. Maybe we can ask Noct to come around later?" he suggested. You had never been to a festival that wasn't just street food and some basketball. "Maybe, he might be too sleepy" you pretended to drag your body in an attempt to act out a sleepy Noctis. "I'm sure he will come around! Noct wouldn't miss his chance to have some fun!" Prompto reassured you. The sun began to set, time seemed to be going too quick for you lately. "Ah man, it's almost night" Prompto lamented. He obviously wanted to spend more time with you. The feeling was mutual as you were having a good time. "Well, we don't have to go back just yet," you told him. Prompto perked up, holding his camera to his chest. "Really?" he said hopefully. You hummed in agreement, taking his hand and leading him through the crowd of people. You were searching for a spot to be somewhat alone. You found a narrow alleyway that was void of people. You pulled Prompto into it and the two of you were snug against each other.

Prompto was blushing at being so close to you, but he didn't make any effort to leave. "Pretty close, don't you think?" he laughed nervously. You gave him a grin, enjoying having him under your thumb like this. "Uh huh," you said. Prompto squeaked as you ran your hand down his chest and hovered it over his crotch. He went rigid and inhaled sharply. Prompto never broke eye contact with you as you began to stroke him through his pants. "Ahh...really?" he said shyly. "Unless you want to stop" you offered. But Prompto shook his head, covering his mouth with his hand. He began to thrust his hips into your hand, getting into it more. You easily moved his pants out of the way and reached into his underwear. He was already hard from a little touching. "You are so sensitive" you teased. Prompto whined behind his hand, closing his eyes sharply. It was cute to watch him like this, but your time was short. You lowered yourself to your knees and Prompto let out a gasp. "Oh my god," he said under his breath. It wasn't ideal, but you doubted the hotel room would have been any more private. You opened your mouth as you licked up the underside of his cock. Your hand pumped him at his base whiled you lapped at his head. "Oh yes..." Prompto sighed and threw his head back. He ran his hand through his hair, gripping it to ground him. You made note of his hair pulling kink and saved it for later. For now, you had something else to focus on. You took him into your mouth and sucked on him hard.

Prompto was practically sobbing into his hand as he tried to keep his voice down. His eyes stayed screwed shut as he knew if he looked down at you he would cum right there. But you wanted to tease him further. "Prompto" you called to him around his cock. He flinched, his hands lowering from his mouth and hair. "Prompto," you called to him again. This time, Prompto opened his eyes and glanced down at you. You had to use your elbow to keep his thighs down as he began to thrust into your mouth. You pulled your mouth to his tip and sucked at the slit. "Ah!" Prompto's body jolted and he looked down at you. He went stiff as his eyes connected to yours. You smiled around him and took his cock as deep as you could. Prompto covered his mouth as he came abruptly. He shuddered and his body went slack against the wall. While it took you by surprise, you weren't going to blame him. You did push him to it. It wasn't until you heard the shutter of his camera did you become confused. Prompto looked down sheepishly, blushing as he looked at the image on the back screen. You dealt with his cum as you saw best and wiped your mouth clean. "Prompto" you began. "I'll delete it I swear! I just want to savor the moment" he pleaded with you. It was almost cute how desperate it was. "It's fine, just don't show the others," you told him. "Oh, of course! I won't!" he promised. It wasn't your image you worried about as the boys were pretty open bout sharing you with each other.

Rather, you knew it would be open season on your ass if they knew Prompto had gotten to mess with you first during this trip.

#spicy stories #prompto x reader #prompto argentum #ffxv prompto #ffxv

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switchblademouse · 3 years

Text

All you could do was laugh.

What other response could you have after seeing death run rampant through your world? The old lady buried one morning when the sun felt harsh and new, then her tiny grandchild ready to be buried soon before the sun set heavy and ripe that very same day. Watching as the people took over the streets howling right in the open, drowning out everything else in their grief. Then watching as those same people burnt down the walls of all the lives around them, smashed the whole world to rubble under the stampede of thousands of charging feet, when all that unanswered grief of theirs turned into righteous rage.

What more was there to do than sit back and laugh at them?

I had warned them. As had many others before me, and after me. We were silenced, all of us. Told we were being too negative for their comfort. Told we shouldn't tell them of the open dangers they faced, unless we gave them the choice to run from such uncomfortable topics beforehand. We, the ones who could see the dangers, had been screaming our warnings at these people for years. We who had already been dying had been begging this blind public for that justice they loved dearly for so very long now. Our suffering had not mattered to these people who thought of themselves as Good People. Where was all of that elitist high ground they once waved above us beggars? Above those of us who had all been denied the basics of human life; and yet we all ended up watching them crumble at our feet for so much less than we had already survived.

We could do nothing but laugh. Throw our heads back and shake from the gasping breathing that came with the horrid and hysterical laughter of those who had been pushed too far for too long. We the people who have only just realized that the others who put us there always knew that our suffering was the worst possible thing anyone could live through. Those awful Good People had let us all suffer while knowing these things; simply because they couldn't care less to act on helping others if they couldn't get something for themselves out of it. Why did such people still dare call themselves "good" to our faces?

We laugh as they fall at our feet, suffering too, in all the ways they looked away from dismissively when that suffering was in our lives once.

We laugh as they bleed out in front of us, blood pooling in a dark river that twists with whirpools of tears, and the many empty, begging promises of desperate human beings trying to avoid the consequences of their own misdeeds brought to their feet.

We laugh as they call us evil, for those moments are the only truly humorous times we still have in our lives, after all this madness.

Because they don't realize they lost that right to feel morally superior to me so very long ago.

We no longer see a human being in our own reflection these days.

We no longer want to.

For all those humans we have seen walking through our life are not what we wish to ever see ourselves become.

The cruel actions those humans who call themselves good take when they simply feel justified in destroying everything they find distasteful are not those we seek to emulate.

So, we will destroy every last human being, and the destructive despair they drag around them like the chaotic wake behind a great storm.

I am perfectly fine being the grinning villain these days.

For if such beings as humans call me evil, then I must be doing so very well as a person.

Isn't that funny?

Just absolutely hilarious?

I see humans, but no humanity.

All you can do is laugh.

[Just a Random Writer in the Electronic Void. Don't mind me. I just got bored. Sorry about the rough copy /Edit: Went back and edited for spelling and grammar because it bugged me, no longer a rough copy/. Not sorry about the chills. Villains are such an interesting topic. Any of us could be one to somebody else. Enjoy this one, or don't. Not exactly my best work after all. Guess I should just laugh it off, huh?]

+++++

End Copypasta

+++++

This right here is copypasta from my YouTube commentary. The video was a wonderful VillainCore playlist, titled "i see humans but no humanity: a villain playlist", posted by username "cupid". (Quote marks are mine. I sincerely apologize for not linking it here. I like giving credit to the creators, but I have no clue how to link that through my phone app here. Sorry!)

I designed this for the authors notes to be at the end, to increase the impact of the writing. In commentary style story posts, putting the authors note at the top deters people from reading by breaking that story immersion. If you put those authors notes at the end of the comment-story you are writing? You get more readership, because the hook for your story can do it's job properly. That's an important tip I recommend you keep in mind if you post stories in places like commentary or reply sections. Just make sure your hook strikes well!

Anyway? Because this was designed for that hook to hit first? I do apologize for having to drop my copypasta without context. It is what it is.

Before I'm done? I would like to make another more personal apology. Someone accused me of "humble-bragging" after the original note to this. I had no idea what that meant. I looked it up. Honestly? I was appalled that they thought that, and confused. When I brag I'm not subtle about it! I also wasn't sure why they would think anyone would over just what I wrote there. I asked some friends. Turns out? My writing is better than I thought it was. I know I'm good, but I didn't think a quick short story like this, done in an hour could be well written for me. I was corrected on something. My standards for excellence were significantly higher for myself than they were for my readers. So, what I legitimately thought wasn't good enough, everyone else thought was me humble-bragging.

I felt the need to apologize for this. I didn't want to alter my original post, for personal reasons. But I want to apologize now, before anyone says I'm doing that. I wasn't, but I'm still struggling to wrap my head around the fact that I'm not just a good writer. I'm a writer who is apparently, on occasion, so good at what they do that they make people think I must be full of crap if I say I don't believe I did well.

Do you know how hard that is to accept?! I'm freaking out. My image of myself does NOT match with that! Even if I was confident about being a good writer, this is still a shock. I'm working on it. It's just taking me a while.

So, on top of my writing tip today?

Take this to heart.

Just because you think you aren't good enough yet, doesn't mean you aren't great already.

Your lackluster effort, just might be a high quality piece in others eyes.

Look at your stuff through some of your biggest supporters eyes at some point.

It could be the best thing you will ever do for your self-confidence.

I hope you all have a weird and wonderful day from here.

~ Tapestry

#original prose #writerslife #story blurb #writing practice #villaincore #chills #writing tips #life advice #life tips #writing techniques #writers on tumblr

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impala-dreamer · 5 years

Text

Not On You

SPN FanFic

~A tragedy after a convention throws Jared into a spiral and makes him question himself.~

Jared, Gen, Jensen, OFC, few others.

4,240 Words

Warnings: Extreme Angst. Suicide. Depression. Panic Attacks. Nightmares. Angst.

My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon

He saw her when he walked out. Everyone else was cheering but she stood like a statue at the back of the question line. Cheers rang out, but her face was still, her lips set in a fine line, eyes wide and trained on him. He could feel her stare even as he tried to ignore it, waving and winking to the fans as the band revved up for their jump.

He was a few seconds behind Jensen but no one noticed; he still got some air.

The girl moved closer as the questions dwindled and Jared tried his best not to look directly at her. She was like a dark void on the edge of his vision, a ghostly blur that grew darker and darker as it approached.

Finally, she reached the microphone and Jared had no choice but to look up and smile.

Her eyes began to bleed. Heavy rivers of crimson flowed from each white orb, staining alabaster cheeks like graffiti on freshly painted brick. Jared pulled back, his body on alert and stiffening as the girl opened her mouth and screamed; her high pitched, piercing howl echoing through the auditorium and into Jared. He felt it hit him like a thousand knives in the chest and hot blood began to leak from his eyes as well.

Jensen leaned over and wiped Jared’s cheek with a casual swipe of his thumb.

“Hey, look at that,” Jensen said with an amused smile. “You’re bleeding out.”

Jared stared down at the bloody thumb and lifted a hand to his own face. His fingers slid through the slick red and he pulled them away as he panicked, jumping away from Jensen’s cruel laugh, the crowd’s adoring gaze, the bleeding girl’s scream.

“Jared!”

He woke with a gasp, sitting straight up as his lungs screamed.

Gen was by his side, concern painting her sleepy face, brown eyes laden with worry. “Baby?” She reached for his shoulder and Jared caught her hand, pulling it up to his lips as he squeezed tight.

“It’s OK,” he lied, faking a smile. “Just a dream.” His voice was hoarse, tongue caked with sleep. He took another breath and lay back down, unable to let go of her hand just yet.

“You were screaming,” she told him gently, settling into his side.

“I’m sorry.” He kissed her fingers again and lay her hand on his chest, covering it with his. She was so small, her fingers so fragile, but he felt safe with her there. Her tiny hand on his heart was all he needed to regroup, to push away the blood drenched dream and breathe again.

“Bad one?” she asked on a heavy sigh, already half asleep again.

Jared swallowed back the dregs of panic and found a spot on the ceiling to focus on as Gen drifted back to sleep. “Don’t worry about it,” he whispered. “It was just a dream.”

Morning broke in Austin, waking the family slowly with sunlight kisses on warm cheeks, but Jared was already up.

He sat in his kitchen, coffee cooling in his favorite mug, fingers dancing around the rim. The details were fading, but the feeling of his dream would not leave. It hovered around him like a fog, keeping him from going back to sleep, not letting him relax.

Gen’s hand on his back made him jump.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she soothed with a smile, reaching up to run her hand through his long hair, tucking a chunk behind his ear. “Did you sleep any?”

Jared shook his head gently.

“Try to get a nap in this morning, OK?” She kissed his cheek before slipping away, long dark hair flowing behind her as she crossed the kitchen to start breakfast. “We’re taking the kids to the zoo today,” she reminded him casually. “Shep’s been whining that we haven’t been in a while so Dee set it up.”

Jared took a breath and willed the haze to leave him. He scrubbed his hands down his cheeks and up, threading his hands through his hair and scratching hard behind each ear. “What time?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“Gonna leave by one,” Gen answered, head in the freezer. “Didn’t we get those waffles?”

“I don’t remember.”

The coffee was cold but he drank it, swallowing it down in three gulps. The mug hit the sink with a clank that hurt his ears and Gen turned in time to see him flinch.

“Jare, are you sure you’re OK?” She placed a box of frozen waffles down on the granite counter and closed the space between them, reaching a hand to place over his heart.

He nodded, eyes closed for fear of tears. He felt wrong, off; the dream wouldn’t leave and he could still hear her scream, see the flood, feel Jensen swipe away his blood. His arm jerked involuntarily as a wave of panic lit his spine. “I’m fine,” he lied once more. “Just gonna go get a shower, OK?”

Gen nodded but didn’t believe him. “OK.”

Jared bent to kiss her cheek and slipped away, rushing back upstairs to be alone.

The shower didn’t help, he could still see the blood flow from her eyes.

Lying down did nothing good, he felt the scream stabbing his chest again.

He tried to run but could barely lift his feet.

He sat by the pool, toes dangling in the warm water, but he couldn’t make himself go in.

It was just a day, just one bad day out of a hundred good ones, he reminded himself. It would pass.

Gen was on the phone when he found her, whispering into her hand, trying to keep her voice low, her conversation obviously not meant for young ears.

The kids were lined up on stools at the kitchen island, bowls of fruit and yogurt being picked at by tiny hands and silver spoons. Jared gave each of their foreheads a kiss as he walked in, lingering by Odette as he watched Gen sigh and chew her lip.

She looked up at Jared and then quickly turned away, trying to hide the sadness on her face.

Something was wrong.

His stomach flipped.

His jaw clenched.

“OK, yeah…” Gen nodded as she spoke. “We’ll see you guys later. OK.” She took a deep breath before turning around, screwing on a cheap smile that barely lifted her cheeks.

“What’s up?”

Setting down the phone, Gen found her smile. “Nothing.” She kept her eyes on Jared, a silent ‘not here’ in her gaze, and addressed the kids. “We about ready for the zoo?”

Two of the three cheered, Tom popped another grape into his mouth and shrugged.

Jared gnawed at the inside of his cheek, nerves rising as Gen ignored his pleading eye. “Gen.” His growl was impatient and insistent, and she waved him into the adjoining dining room.

Making sure the kids were oblivious, Gen pulled her cell from her back pocket. “There’s a news report,” she began, unlocking her phone to scroll to the article. “I don’t know how legitimate it is, but Jensen said-”

“That was Ackles? On the phone?” Panic was rising in the back of his throat like bile from a night of drinking.

Gen put her hand on his wrist, drawing his attention down to her. “Yes. Relax.”

He took a breath but relaxing was out of the question. When his shoulders dropped an inch, Genevieve went on.

“Apparently, there was an incident after the convention this weekend.”

His heart stopped. “What?”

Gen scrolled to the headline but hesitated, biting her lip as she turned the screen into her chest. “I…”

“What happened!”

Jared grabbed the phone as Gen loosened her hold and his eyes went huge as he scanned the headline.

‘Teen Commits Suicide At Supernatural Fan Convention’

It felt as if someone opened the drain in a full bath. Jared’s stomach dropped and every limb went slack as his frame crumbled. He closed his eyes, words still flashing in the reddish black. He clung to the phone, not ready to read more, but unable to let it go.

“Baby?” Gen’s voice was wrought with worry as Jared pitched forward, his right hand coming up to brace himself against the dining table. She moved close, ready to help him, but Jared shook his head and cleared his throat, pulling away. “I’m so sorry.”

“Take it.” He shoved the phone towards her, shaking his wrist. “Take it!”

“Nothing’s been confirmed,” she told him gently, tears threatening to spill as she watched her husband begin to spin out. “It could just be a prank or-”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, cutting her off. He stood and nodded, pushing a smile towards her and looking away. “Yeah, probably a prank.”

“Jared-”

He was out the door before she could grab him.

He drove a little too fast but he couldn’t help it. His entire body felt encased in lead, why should his foot be light on the gas?

‘It was just a dream...just a weird dream...that wasn't her. It wasn't real.’

He was out of breath with panic when he pulled into Jensen's driveway, fingers slipping off the door handle, unable to get a grip.

‘It was just a dream.’

He saw her face again, fresh and clean, waiting in line in the photo room. The music was blasting, the lights were hot. Hands pushed and pulled at him; lips moved but he heard nothing but the beat from Chris's stereo. There she was: wide brown eyes, stringy pale brown hair, mouth stained with gloss that didn't match her skin.

The cut the engine and sat back in the seat, digging his phone out of his back pocket. He held it tight and swiped, fingers moving despite his screaming mind.

‘Don't look at it.’

His hands refused the command, easily finding the article on Google. He scrolled through details that barely settled in his mind- Seventeen year old… Supernatural… Jared Padalecki’s campaign… Sunday evening found… apparent self induced overdose of sleeping pills…

Tears rolled freely as he sat in his truck, unable to retain much more than the few clips and phrases, but once he got to her photo, he broke. Long fingers framed his screen as he stared, trying to remember if he could remember her. She looked like one of a thousand, the girl from his dream but less remarkable. Shoulder length, mousey brown hair, pale skin, plain brown eyes; she could have been anyone, everyone.

He passed her in the hall as he left the Op Room, heading back stage. He paused to look at the prices on the signs by the ticket tables, shaking his head at the insane price people paid for a photo with him. She was in the corner, hiding in the shadows by the door, just standing, brown eyes locked on him like everyone else in the room. He looked up and gave her a smile and a shrug, trying to stay On despite the rush of people pressing in around him. She pushed off the wall and took a step towards him, her face full of hope, eyes expectant.

Cliff pulled him away; late as usual.

“Jared!”

Jensen’s knuckles hit the window and Jared jumped, nearly tossing the phone onto the dash in his panic. He turned to his friend with tear-streaked cheeks and shook his head.

“Get out of the car, brother.”

“No.”

Jensen took a deep breath, eyes rising to the sky as he readied himself. “Come on, get out.”

Jared stared at the steering wheel, his hands shaking as he tried to start the engine again.

“Hey!” Jensen knocked again. “At least roll down the window. I don’t wanna talk through glass.”

He couldn’t stop the shaking, bones in his hands refusing to be still. “I...I think I remember her. She tried to talk to me.”

Jensen leaned in, tipping his right ear towards the window. “What?” He squinted in the harsh midday light that beat off the glass, hiding Jared’s face from him. “Dude, I can’t hear you.”

Hazel eyes were lost to the void, flitting around, staring at the dust that danced in truck’s cabin, held in streams of sunlight. “Twice, I think. I-I remember seeing her. I could have- shit.”

Filling with worry, Jensen put his hands on the roof of the truck and leaned down, looking into the window, pressing his forehead to the hot glass. “Jared, come on. Get out of the car. Come have a beer with me.”

There was silence. Jared mouthed something and shook his head.

“Come on.” Jensen knocked on the roof twice and reached for the door. “Kids are getting ready for the zoo. JJ’s excited to see you today. Come on.”

The engine started.

“I should have done something.”

Jensen pulled at the handle. “No. Jared, come on. Get out.”

“Thank you! I love you so much!”

Jared winked at the woman with blue hair as she walked away clutching the 8x10 he’d just signed. “Love you too,” he said with a smile.

He grabbed a new sharpie and looked up to see sad brown eyes. He smiled. “Hello.”

The young girl held an envelope tight in her hands, fingers bending the fragile white paper on the edges. She swallowed hard and took a breath, getting ready to speak.

Melissa, one of the volunteers helping the line move, walked up behind her. “I’m sorry, hun, we gotta keep moving.”

The girl’s shoulders fell and Jared looked up expectantly. She held out the envelope, a small ‘To Jared’ scrawled in blue ink on the front. Jared nodded in thanks as he took it and placed it on the table next to his pens.

“Thank you,” he said, already looking towards the next fan.

He started driving, ignoring Jensen’s shout from the driveway, ignoring the hot sun, the stifling heat of the truck.

He drove.

Dear Jared,

My name is Emily and I’m writing you this letter to say goodbye.

Supernatural has been my favorite thing in the whole world since I was little. I remember staying up late to watch it with my older sister and hiding when the monsters attacked. I used to play Wincesters with my friends at school even though they didn’t really know what I was talking about. I was even Sam for Halloween a few times.

Sam’s always been my favorite. I love Dean, but Sam has been my favorite since the first episode I watched. I love him. I love you.

I’ve never been good with words or even being a person really. But I wanted you to know that I tried and I’m sorry. I feel like I’ve failed you, but I can’t keep going like this. I tried to keep fighting, I did, but it’s too hard. I’m sorry.

Emily

Jensen found him eventually. Hours had passed, Dee and Gen had taken the kids to the zoo as planned, but Jensen was out looking for Jared.

He was holed up in the back office at the bar, drinking himself blind in the corner, long legs stretched out on the hard floor, head hung low, shoulders small, heart broken.

Jensen stood in the open door, stream of light casting his shadow over Jared’s crumbled frame.

“What are you doing?” he asked, stepping inside and closing the door softly.

Jared looked up as he took a deep breath. His cheeks were stained, hair matted with sweat and wayward tears. His lips were puffy and bleeding, too many bites to hold in the pain. He took a drink from his glass and hissed as the whiskey stung his lips. “Getting drunk,” he replied grimly, downing the rest of his drink. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Jensen shook his head and crossed his arms. “I don’t know, just spent the last two hours looking for you. Called every number, texted you a dozen times.”

Jared pulled back his right leg and then kicked it forward, sending his cell phone skidding across the floor like a pebble on a lake. It bounced off of Jensen’s boot and he picked it up to see that it was turned off.

“You know Gen’s worried to death, right?”

Jared laughed and reached for the bottle of whiskey next to him. He overshot and knocked it over, amber liquid sloshing out into a puddle on the pale wooden floor. “Shit.” He scooped up the bottle and pressed it to his lips, unable to process much else. “Tell her I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Jensen countered, stepping fully into the room and setting the phone down on the desk. “You wanna talk about it?”

Jared shook his head, lips pulling forward into a pout as he searched for the bottle once more. He drank like it was water; half a mouthful spilling from the corner of his lips. It trickled down his neck and seeped into the dark gray cotton of his shirt, little halos of sorrow beside the echoes of his tears.

“Fine. Don’t talk. But let’s ease up on the bourbon, buddy.” Jensen lunged forward and pulled the bottle from Jared’s hand, little resistance meeting his grab.

Jared dropped his hands and slumped down against the wall, head full of questions and darkness, belly full of burning booze. “Whatever.”

The desk chair squeaked as Jensen sat. He took a sip of the whiskey, cringing with the swallow as he sat back.

“How many?”

Jensen looked down, eyes pulled by Jared’s slurred whisper. “What’s that?”

Jared sat up straighter, pulling his knees to his chin. “How many?”

“How many what?”

Silence hung for a moment before Jared’s question shattered everything.

“How many people... do you think I've killed?”

Jensen choked on his swallow and set the bottle down on the desk. “What! Jared, you- you haven’t killed anyone. What the hell are you talking about?”

Jared pushed his head back against the wall, neck lengthening, shoulders shaking subtly with a heavy breath. His voice was laced with tears but he kept them back, spilling his thoughts as easily as he had the whiskey.

“She tried to talk to me. She-she gave me a letter and I ignored her. Just looked to the next one and the next one. I didn’t even think about it again.” His head lolled to the left, rocking against the wall. “There’s just always so many people, ya know? They come at you left and right, and it’s so loud...always so loud.”

Jensen rubbed at his temples and set his elbows on his knees, leaning forward to get a better look at Jared in the dim room. “Yeah, I know, bud. Conventions suck, but what are you talking about? She gave you a letter? The girl from the news?”

Jared let out a somber laugh and rocked to the left, lifting his hips as he pulled a crushed white envelope from his back pocket. “A letter,” he announced, flicking his wrist and sending the package towards Jensen. It fell at his feet, but he dipped to pick it up and look it over. “She was right there, in front of me all fucking day, ya know? Like, I kept seeing her. Just there. All the time. And...boom! She’s dead!”

“Holy shit,” Jensen mumbled, eyes rushing over the handwritten goodbye. “Jared, we need to get this to the police, I think.”

“She wanted my help and I ignored her. She was right there!” Jared’s hands were flailing as he spoke, pointing to the phantom in his mind. He could see her so clearly; empty, pleading eyes begging for help that wouldn’t come. “If I had taken like two fucking seconds to talk to her maybe she’d be alive. How many times has this fucking happened? How many letters didn’t I get? How many!”

Jensen was speechless. The letter, the news report, everything. He remembered the girl as well, or at least imagined he did. In truth, she was just one face in a crowd of hundreds he’d smiled at that day. It was impossible to know.

“I…” Jensen sighed and dropped the fragile letter onto the desk. “I don’t know, Jare.”

“I should have talked to her.”

“You couldn’t have known. How could you have known?”

“Should have done something. I could have opened the fucking letter and she’d be alive right now!” Jared pushed away from the wall, his tears turning to rage at himself, at the girl, at everyone who’d been there and let her go. He stumbled to stand, falling instead onto his hands and knees. “How many people have I killed!” He beat the floor with an angry fist and clenched his teeth, looking up at Jensen for answers. “How many! Tell me!”

Jensen shook his head and fell forward off of the chair, his knees slamming onto the floor beside Jared’s hand. “No.” His throat was tight but he pushed through it, swallowing down his own pain. He had a job to do. “Look at me,” he said firmly, dropping a hand to Jared’s shoulder. “Look at me.”

“What?” There wasn’t much left in Jared’s eyes but water and disillusionment. “What? Tell me.”

“Zero. Jared, this isn’t your fault.”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, shrugging Jensen’s hand away and sitting back again. “You-you know what? You don’t- you don’t understand.”

Jensen’s brows lifted and his jaw dropped. “What don’t I understand? How you’re feeling? I get it, brother. I do.”

“No.” Jared shook his head and looked away, bitterly amused at the loneliness he felt. “You don’t understand. These fans...they look at me like I'm some goddamned savior or something. Like I’m the thing that’s keeping them alive. Do you know how many times I’ve heard that? Seen something like that with my name attached to it? My picture? They use me to...I don’t know, man. I- I’m not… I can’t help anyone. I can’t keep anyone alive. I can’t be anything for anyone. I can barely be for myself most days.”

Jensen’s chest tightened but he kept his voice calm. “Not most days, some. And you are not responsible for anyone else. You can’t control what they do with your face or your words, you can’t look at that stuff. You can’t worry about everyone.”

"And what happens when I stop worrying? Stop paying attention?" In a huff, Jared climbed to his feet and picked up the letter, crumbling it in his fist before chucking it in Jensen's direction. "This happens. We changed the rules. Made it so people don't have time to talk to us, so we don't have to listen. It's all my fault. I couldn't just suck it up and listen. Some girl is dead and it's my fault. Someone's kid, their daughter, their sister is dead because the-the great...Jared Padalecki couldn't take five seconds to talk to her." His sarcastic tone melted into a desperate sob as he fell, drunken knees giving out, tear-wrecked body refusing to keep him up any longer. He gagged on the air as Jensen rushed to him, grabbing his arm to keep him from crashing to the floor.

“It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.”

His horrid whispers repeated endlessly but Jensen wouldn’t let him believe it. He wrapped his arms tight around Jared’s neck and held him close, telling him again and again that he was wrong, that he was good, that there was nothing that anyone could have done.

Jared’s breathing calmed eventually, tears running dry, mind dimming to a dull roar. When Jensen felt him try to pull back, he let him, placing his hands on Jared’s shoulders and forcing him to meet his eye.

“Hey,” he said gently. “You listen to me, OK?”

Jared tried to look away but found it harder to move than he remembered. He stared back blankly, green eyes turned up to his, Jensen’s jaw tight, lips in a firm line.

“You are so good. So fucking good. I wouldn’t be here I didn’t believe that.” Jared tried to pull away, but Jensen held tight. “No, you listen to me. What you do for everyone around you is more than anyone could ever repay or even come close to doing. You’re important and amazing and full of love and that’s why everyone is drawn to you. But you do not have to be responsible for them all. That’s not on you, brother. You hear me? That’s not on you.”

Jared nodded sadly and licked his lips, twitching a bit as his tongue hit the raw, broken flesh. “I’m sorry,” he said meekly, eyes rimmed in red, lips just the same. His cheeks were bright but his skin was pale; exhaustion both physical and emotional was looming over his head, ready to seep into his bones.

Jensen pulled him in for a hug. “Don’t you dare be sorry. Not about this.”

Jared’s arms fit around Jensen’s back, finally giving something in return. “What do we do?” he asked like a child.

“We get some food in you,” Jensen said with a faint laugh, stepping back to give Jared a smile. “Sober your ass up a bit…”

Jared nodded and gave a weak smile. “Yeah.”

“And then...we...figure it out. Together.”

Jared flipped the lights as they walked out, leaving the office as a mess to be dealt with another day.

The letter lay crumpled on the floor, a tear to be shed another day.

They walked out, together.

2019 Forever Tags: @akshi8278 @amanda-teaches @arses21434 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @because-imma-lady-assface @burningcoffeetimetravel @colagirl5 @cosicas-cuquis @cosmicfire72 @courtney-elizabeth-winchester @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @dean-winchesters-bacon @deansenwackles @deansgirl215 @deanmonandnegansbitch @dolphincliffs @dubuforeveralone @emilyshurley @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @eternal-elir @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @gayspacenerd @hella-aj-the-trickers-son @herbologystudent252 @hobby27 @ilsawasanacrobat @justcallmeasmodeus @katymacsupernatural @lastactiontricia @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @meganwinchester1999 @missjenniferb @mrswhozeewhatsis @mysticmaxie @onethirstyunicorn @our-jensen-ackles-love @peridot-rose @risingphoenix761 @roonyxx @roxyspearing @sandlee44 @shadowkat-83 @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnficgirl @supernaturaldean67 @supernatural-took-me-over @thehardcoveraddict @tmiships4life @wegoddessofhell @winchesterprincessbride @winterpoohbear

#spn fanfic #jared padalecki #angst #tw suicide #super angst

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mauve-n-arcadia · 4 years

Text

The Pining of the Void: Chapter 6 - The Shadow Walk

“Sha-bah! Sha-bah!” Glush shook Shadbak over and over. He shivered as he looked over her body, she was still in one piece, her limbs were unbroken, her clothes were untattered, and yet she was still limp in his arms. “Sha-bah!”

“Move over!” Dul struggled to peel Glush away, tossing the big orc on his ass.

“No!” Glush jumped back up and grabbed Dul’s arm. He was about to Yank Dul away when his hands began to glow with a soft amber light. “What-”

“Hands off, ya big lug! I’m trying to help her!” Glush frowned and tightened his grip.

“What you doing?” He demanded. Dul winced.

“Ack! Easy! I’m trying to see what’s wrong!” Dul said. Glush looked at Shadbak, who’s eyes were still pitch black, then let go of Dul.

“What wrong?” Glush asked. Dul sighed as he worked, moving his hands up over Shadbak’s eyes.

“Well, it seems like she’s caught between planes… her body is here, but her spirit has been pushed out by shadows.” Dul said. Glush’s heart sank. Dul sat back on his haunches, the light of his magic disappeared. Reflexively, Glush leaned in to feel for Shadbaks pulse.

Her skin was not cold, but somehow the sensation of touching her seemed far away. Her heart was beating like an echo from deep in the caves. How were they going to do this mining operation without Shadbak? How was glush going to move on without her?

He felt Dul put a hand on his shoulder.

“Her spirit is wandering the shadow walk,” he began. “She will survive, at least as long as her body does, and… “ Dul stopped and shook his head, “Well… hopefully she doesn’t meet anyone on the walk…“

Glush kept looking into Shadbak’s eyes hoping she would snap back to them at any moment. He looked at her, feeling like he was looking into a deep pit,listening to the echo of her heart. It beat, and beat, Glush’s ear twitched and he looked off to one of the doors in the room.

He squinted at the doorway that was barely brighter than the void crystals on either side. Her heartbeat was coming from there!

Glush stood with determination.

“Dul,” He proclaimed, “Take Shadbak to tent, I go.” He turned to walk towards the faint ba-dum he could hear echoing.

“Wait!” Rudy said, putting an arm out to touch Glush’s shoulder. “You can’t go alone, then we’ll just have two people missing!”

Glush rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.” He said. He brushed Rudy’s hand off his shoulder and made his way towards the darkness.

As he neared the door, the air around him grew colder. It gave off an odd non-presence. Glush reached for the handle, and his hand passed into nothingness. He couldn’t pull back through, the thick shadowy air compelled him to move forward.

He didn’t take a single step, but he found himself on the other side. The cold was firm. It lightly pressed into him from every direction, over every pore, and slid him through the barrier without any effort on his part. He turned to look. The door was still there. He could still hear Shadbaks heartbeat in the distance, but no inkling of sound from Dul and Rudy reached him.

Glush looked around himself. He was alone, and in a small room. This change was a bit jarring, seeing as he was just in a wide cave.

The room seemed darker as well. Glush was good at seeing in the dark, but the darkness in this room was on another level. There were objects in the room, but the darkness conspired to make them amorphous blobs that Glush could barely make out.

Glush sighed, and listened intently.

Ba-dum Ba-dum Ba-dum, it was faint, his ears swiveled. It seemed to be coming from the leftmost corner of the room.

Glush started moving in that direction. His own footsteps took precedence over all the other sounds of his environment. And listening past his own breathing took concentration, but there were a few other sounds of note.

Water was moving somewhere in the distance, as well as an occasional drip. These were sounds Glush was used to from spending time in caves.

An occasional scratching noise could be heard, like claws. It sounded far off as well. Glush noted it as a sound to pay attention to.

But overlaying everything, and coming from no direction in particular, was a faint hum. A deep noise. It permeated through the walls, and through his very bones. But it didn’t feel threatening.

Glush took another deep breath and let the hum reverberate through him.

Ba-Dum Ba-Dum, he could hear the beat a little better now.

He felt his way to a door in the room. It was a regular door this time. He pushed it open, and the old worn hinges screamed into the open air.

The rusted screeching echoed into the hall beyond. There was a bit more light here. There was hardly more to see, but Glush still drank in his surroundings greedily. It was a place not entirely unlike the top of the cave, with its multifaceted geometric walls, dark growths, and sparse sparkling lighting. What surprised Glush was the sheer size of the room. He was not far enough underground for the cave to be this big at all, and yet it was like the sprawling wilds of the outdoors with a shadowy twist.

He padded over mossy hills, glowing blue and purple, ducking under the void like mushrooms which had grown to monumental heights. There was a skittering in the distance, and Glush froze, trying to listen for the source. With the walls of the cave so far away, the echoes of the cave were faint at best, Glush almost didn’t believe his ears when he could hear footsteps along with the light thumping of Shadback’s far off pulse.

“Ah yes this one is nice and plump, ohh but maybe i should take the dry one instead. Oh where is that damned chicken…”

Glush lost all sense of caution as he hurried towards the voice of his friend.

His hurried footsteps alerted an addled Shadbak, she whipped around quickly and Glush stopped short at the tip of her blade, millimeters from Glush’s stomach. She bore her fangs at him, her hair was unkempt with little crumbs of something all over. Her clothes were in tatters, as if she had been wearing them a bit too long.

Her hardened stare transformed into the widest smile Glush had ever seen on her face.

“GLUSH!” She screeched gleefully, storing her knife back into her belt loop.

“I haven’t seen you here yet! No one ever comes to visit me” Her eyes darted from place to place, almost taking in each piece of Glush as a separate entity. Suddenly, she launched herself at him.

“Ahh! Shad-shabak!” Glush exclaimed, making a move to catch her. She passed right through and slumped to the ground behind him.

“Awww.” She said picking herself up from the cave floor. “I can’t touch you!” She lay her cheek on the ground dramatically. A mushroom was laying beside her.

“Stupid Glush” Her eyes landed on the mushroom. “Being all ethereal.” She lazily moved her head forward and took a bite out of the mushroom.

Not getting up, she continued to munch on the mushroom.

“Well if you’re here. I might as well introduce you to everyone else.” She sat up, still chewing a bit.

She threw her head back and screamed. “MIZZY, MYSTERY, MINNY!”

A slight skittering could be heard in the distance.

“You of course already know Mystery,” Shadbak said, gesturing to a blank space of air. Her eyes narrow conspiratorially, “She can talk now” Shadbak whispered.

“I think Mizzy is….AH yes, today was Mizzy’s turn to dig the latrine. She better not been slacking! Sometimes I swear, she’s lazier than you, Glush!”

Shadbaks head turned, “Ah that’s Min now”

The skittering grew louder, and louder still. Glush hovered his hand over his toolbelt. A large, reptilian foot emerged from behind one of the tall mushrooms, its claws were inky black, its scales were a deep charcoal grey, and when it fully emerged, there was a 4 foot tall creature covered in onyx feathers.

“Chicken?” Glush said, bewildered.

“Minny!” Shadback scrambled over and hugged it. Minny squaked and beat its wings a couple times. “See Glush! Minny lets me touch her. What’s the big deal with you all being so intangible?” she pointed around, accusingly at the air.

Glush tried to form words, but came up short. This was clearly Shadbak’s spirit, and she was also clearly in a bad way. How was one supposed to escort a spirit you can’t touch out of this weird place? Especially one who was acting so strange.

“Sha-bah, you, uh-” He rubbed the back of his neck, wishing he could find a less frank way to ask her this, “you bathe?”

“Bathe? Bathe! Why would I bathe in ink?” She half laughed, and half yelled. Glush shrank back.

“Not ink, water, bathe in water.” Glush stammered.

“There is no water, Glush. It’s all ink down here! Look at my boots!” She gestured with one hand at her boots which were indeed pitch black. “That’s what happens when you step in a puddle!” she laughed and threw her arms back around Minny.

Glush’s eyebrows furrowed.

“You no...drink ink?” He asked, concerned. Shadbak cackled even harder, falling into the giant black chicken, and making it stumble.

“Drink Ink!” She screeched between laughs. “You can’t drink ink!”

Glush’s eyebrow furrowed further. He’d never seen Shadbak like this. Not even drunk.

“You need drinks!” He said, and he produced a water pouch from his belt and held it out to her. She took the pouch from him with no problem. Where her hand would have brushed against his, it went through him instead.

She unscrewed the top and peered inside.

“I can see the dark in here!” She exclaimed proudly. Then she up ended it over her head and the water poured over her poofy locks.

Glush whimpered.

“Uh….we find more water.” Glush said, more to himself this time. He looked around hopelessly for a moment and sighed. “Sha-bak, come” He implored.

Shadbak did not. She stared at him blankly.

“Sha-bak, we go!” Glush tried to grab on to her arm. He passed through her again.

The chicken, Minny, scratched its large foot on the ground, and seemed to look as thoughtful as a 5 foot tall jet black chicken could look.

In a deep voice it declared “I know where you could find some water”

Glush stared at the Chicken.

After a long pause “… chicken… talk?”

“Minny is a very special boy-o!” Shadbak yelped defensively. Minny cleared his throat with a sort of clucking sound.

“Yes, er, my name is K’thelix, actually, and your friend here has been surviving off of the local fauna since I found her.” He pecked at the flecks in shadbacks hair and she smiled back at him.

“You mean the mushrooms right? Was it the mushrooms I saw you eating? Or was that Mystery…” Shadbak said. Glush felt his stomach churn. The strange plants down here couldn't do any real harm to her. She wasn’t really eating them, right? Then again, how was she even able to eat anything right now? Then it occurred to Glush, Shadbak had only just had her spirit wrenched from her body moments ago, but she looked like she had been out here for days.

“Ah- kah the… kah the… kah…” Glush twisted his tongue around the alien sounding name, but alas could not get the syllables right. “Minny, uh- when you find Sha-bah?” K’thelix may have had fixed eyes, but he made the closest gesture he could to an eyeroll still.

“I’ve been watching after Shadbak for a fortnight. For all the spirits I’ve found wandering these caves, she is by far the strangest. Can’t say I’ve seen your kind down here before, you people are much hardier than the waifish humanoids that wander into the caves every now and then.” K’thelix said. The longer Glush spent talking to these two the less he felt like he understood. He wished he had brought someone who was better at talking, Usually Shadbak would take care of that, but… well…

Tears began welling up in Glush’s eyes. He was overwhelmed to say the least.

Even in her sorry state. Shadbak could not abide seeing her friend upset.

“No, nonononono!” She said hurriedly, rushing to his side. She tried patting at his cheeks. “No sadness. I’ll….give you a mushroom!” She said plucking one from the ground and presenting it to him. Glush didn’t react to the mushroom, and tears welled up in Shadbaks eyes as well.

“No sadness!” She exclaimed louder as her tears began to flow.

K’Thelix made a sound between clearing his throat and a cluck. Coming over to them, he put a wing around them both.

“Come on” He said in his throaty rumble “Let’s go refill that water skin”

K’thelix was a bit too large to be a regular chicken, Glush thought. He wondered if there were more pitch black, larger than life creatures that lived down here, surely there wasn't just one lonely chicken feeding on a bunch of mushrooms.

“I’ve taken your friend here, what did you call her? Shabbah?”

“Bak, BAK!” Shadbak corrected, though with the way K’thelix ruffled his feathers, it seems he did not understand.

“I do not cluck, Shabbah, now hush. Anyway, I take her here once a day, so she’s been getting plenty of water.” He stopped right in front of a glowing pond, or rather a large puddle. It was a foot deep, maybe a few around, and surrounded by dark foliage that swallowed its light.

Glush’s heart swelled with gratitude as he knelt by the pond. He dipped his hand into the icy water and cupped a small amount up to his lips. He took a tiny sip.

It tasted a tiny bit metallic but seemed fine for drinking, so he dipped both hands in and took a few more gulps.

He wasn’t sure if Shadbak actually needed to drink. But the dryness in his throat made him certain that he did.

Shadbak lowered her head and drank greedily. As she rose the cool droplets spilt down her chin and onto her neck.

Her eyes shot up and made contact with his. She cracked a smile, and for a moment seemed like her old self. Then she pouted.

“We should nap!”

Glush tilted his head. He was very emotionally drained, and could probably use a moment of rest. But K’thelix shook his head.

“Not here.” The giant chicken said vaguely.

Glush too pouted for a moment. “Why?” He asked.

“This is the only clean watering hole in the caves” K’thelix stated tilting his head. A expression that while, very different from an orc, seemed reminiscent of the same expression Shadbak gave him when he said something stupid. Glush was still not sure why, and just returned the head tilt.

“Ugh, what kind of creatures are you two? This is the ONLY watering hole, all the creatures that live here come here to drink, that includes ones that might find you or I to be a tasty treat!” K’thelix squaked. Glush remembered that there were more dangers than simply other creatures in the caves. Shadbak was on a timer, and no matter how exhausting this all was, he had to get her out now.

The problem was how to get her out. She was being incredibly uncooperative, and Glush had the feeling that even if he were better with words, that they wouldn’t help him here. He dipped his canteen into the pool of water and gazed over at Shadback, hoping she would suddenly snap back to her usual self.

She was plucking mushrooms from the edges of the pool and humming a tune. It was something familiar, an old orcish lullaby. Old enough that it was something every orc learned from their grandparents. Shadbak had a glazed over look in her eyes as she plucked away at the mushrooms, as if in a trance.

“Ah!” Glush swiftly plugged up his canteen and strapped it back to his leg. He reached into his jacket pocket, and produced his flute. This might be a long shot, but it was worth a try. “Sha-bah-” she did not respond. “Sha-bah!” she was still deep in a trance. He made a strained sigh, at least the song made her focus.

He put his flute up to his lips and took a deep breath, placing his fingers over the keys of the first note. Softly at first, he blew the first phrase out in time with Shadbacks humming, they perfectly matched each others pitch. It was a story all Orcs knew, and a tune you would have to be tone deaf to mess up. As Shadback ended the last phrase of the song, and breathed in, ready to loop to the beginning, Glush played just a bit louder than her hum.

As his fingers danced over the notes, playing the tale of a weary traveller, Shadbak’s eyes widened. She looked to him slowly, like his flute was illuminating the cave.

Slowly he began to edge his way away from the water. She, practically slack-jawed, followed him. A triumphant smirk threatened to mess up his air flow as he gained confidence that she would follow.

He absent mindedly began retracing his steps. Going back the way he came would surely lead him out and back to Shadbaks body. He had a good enough sense of direction that he could let his feet find the way while his mind focused on the song.

He continued to play. Glush was never great at communicating through words, but music was a different story. The yearning for the family that he had found satisfied in Shadbaks company cried out throughout the song, urging her forward.

The notes echoed from the high cavern walls, reverberating back creating a harmony that enveloped both Glush and Shadbak.

Glush thought he heard a faint voice calling after him, as his feet and music carried further into the darkness.

#orc fag plays a tune #original content #original writing #original fiction #fantasy #fantasy series #fantasy romance #orc #gay orcs #this story is getting to be rather long #one day the plot will happen #world building #wow #idk here's another tag

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razorblade180 · 4 years

Text

Skirmish pt2

“Seriously!? We can fight?” Nick’s entire mood brightened, but then immediately turned to nerves. “What’s the angle?”

Carmine lightly chuckled. She pulled off her scarf and wrapped it around her torso. “No angle, just an apology. I might not have said the kindest words to you. Also I shouldn’t ask for training help then turn someone down. So yes, I’ll fight you.”

“Simple as that huh? Okay, let me know when you’re ready to-”

“Now.”

“NOW!?” They all screamed. Carmine looked at them as if they were the weird ones and nodded. It takes a lot to actually keep her down. Lucas definitely shaved some aura off of her but she had more than enough in the tank to have another skirmish. Carmine gave them a thumbs up.

“Everything is already healed up and fighting below a hundred percent is sorta my thing.

“...”

“Not that I’m underestimating you, honest!” Carmine tried explaining. It was days like these she wished Kovu was around. He typically understood her words.

“Anyways let’s apply the same rules. Swords, semblances, and hand to hand of course. You challenged me so I picked the spot this time.”

“That’s fair. Do me a favor though and choose a place that doesn’t feel like an oven?”

“Actually, I have the perfect place in mind. You might know it.” Carmine snaps her fingers and once again The Void is engulfed by light.

When it eventually fades, the group finds themselves in castle ruins. The walls crumbled slowly and a shattered mosaic scattered light across the room.

“Mom’s battle sight.” Summer said, roaming around. “From when she killed the Arma Gigas.”

“That’s right. In my world Weiss comes here sometimes to get away from it all. Her secret stage is what Weiss calls it. Fitting place for a fight.”

Nick scanned the area. Open space, nice temperature, a certain spiritual charm to it; indeed it was a fitting spot. The others must’ve agreed because the others wasted no time moving towards the broken ceiling, taking a bird’s eye view of the fighters. “Truly a stage fit for our match.”

“I gotta say I’m starting to grow fond of that charisma of yours pretty boy. Nicholas Schnee…”

Carmine pulled out her blade and stabbed it right into the ground. Her hands rested on the hilt and she stood confidently in the middle of the room, letting her crimson aura shine brightly. “Do your best.”

He was scared. Nick didn’t want to admit it but he was actually a bit scared of Carmine at this moment. Was it because she was so calm? So unnervingly confident to the point of choosing a place familiar to his family? Nick drew his blade and looked at it.

A battle of skill huh? Let’s see what I’m made of. To be honest, I might lose instant-

“Hey stupid!”

Nick looked up to see Summer standing up on a broken support pillar. She took her sword and pointed it right at his face. “I’m watching, better not blunder or you’ll never hear the end of it!” Summer stuck out her tongue then smiled. “Kick her butt.”

As far as siblings pep talks go, that one was easily top notch. Carmine could tell Summer was calming his nerves and it had worked. Nicholas slicked his hair back and took his stance. Eyes looked ahead, chin down, back straight, right foot forward, but not too far forward. Mort Froid pointed right at her chest. Carmine couldn’t help but imagine Weiss standing before her.

Nick took one final deep breath. “Little siblings am I right? Once they want something...you gotta give it to them!”

Carmine didn’t see him move. She didn’t even see a glyph, and yet she knew deep down to raise her sword straight in front of her body. Though Carmine didn’t see him, Nick was already in front of her and crashed his blade right where she had raised it. Carmine pushed him off but Nick came right back at her with serious intent to harm. He can’t afford to play nice with an opponent like her.

Nick thrusted his blade at the tip of Carmine’s, then slashed along the middle to knock it away. He followed through the swing by aiming for her face and barely scratching her face before Carmine jumped back. Nick’s left hand flexed and created a glyph behind Carmine that stopped her escape, making her wince the moment the back of her head hit it.

Nick went to sweep her legs from the right but Carmine raised her foot and stopped it dead in its tracks. She raised her blade to return the slash to the face.

He’s open.

Nicholas made a glyph in his left hand and brought it over to the right side of his face. The glyph created the arma gigas blade and blocked Carmine’s strike. He then thrusted it forward and struck right in the middle of her chest. The force of it was enough to send her flying through the glyph that was still behind her.

Nick can’t see my movements like Lucas but he’s faster. Also he seems a bit more experienced; if I knew about the dual wielding then I might’ve asked if I could use my nightstick. But then it wouldn’t be a sword much, and I’d be too tempted to use my scythe.

Carmine manages to flip herself around midair and lands on the stained glass. She kicks off of it, right back towards him with one hand on the hilt and the other on the inside of the curved blade.

Nick crossed his swords together and blocked the attack head on, getting pushed backwards as Carmine’s body forced herself forward against his blade. They kept sliding until Nick’s body hit a wall. He gritted his teeth painfully as he tried to push Carmine back.

Pain shot through his arms and sparks came off their clash. “Damn it! Why are you so..gaaah!” Nick put a glyph under Carmine’s feet and yanked it out from under her like a rug. Carmine lost her balance. Her feet went backwards and Nick slashed upwards to send her sword flying out of her hands. “My turn…”

Nick kneed Carmine in the chin then swung both blades down against her shoulders, earning another wince. His left blade went right while the other went the opposite direction across her body, then did it again in vice versa. The others watched in amazement, except for Summer and Valerie who expected no less.

“Six hits in two seconds. Nick is stepping up his game.” Summer said, a little surprised. Her palms got sweaty and feet started to fidget. “He’s matching my speed now, that jerk. It’s like the only thing I have on him!”

Valerie wanted to comment on the numerous things Summer had over Nick when it comes to fighting but she was too fixated on the boy as well. Unlike with Lucas, Carmine was more on the defensive. Whenever she blocked one sword it meant the other was free to find an opening, and there’s always going to be an opening in a fight. Nick’s greatest strength never came from his swordsmanship, but the ways he mixed up his attacks. Even so, Carmine’s mind seemed to follow a similar thread of logic.

Nick used Mort Froid to swing down at Carmine’s body in order to force her to block, which she did right on time. He then used the gigas sword to strike right at her ribs to expend more air. A failed plan, Carmine quickly grabbed the other sword. Both simultaneously slid their right foot forward and behind each other’s left foot to sweep it but Carmine’s strength edged out Nick’s easily, sending him to the ground and ending up with the older girl’s knee on his chest.

Carmine places the sword lightly against his neck as he turns away from her. Carmine looked a little puzzled. His face was getting red. Was he upset that they did the same thing, or maybe she was heavier than she realized.

“Hey, this doesn’t hurt too bad right? Still breathing fine?”

“Yeah it’s just uhhh, your shirt.” He said, clearly his throat.

“My shirt?” Carmine looked down and realized it was hanging loosely before the way she pinned him. Nick no doubt could see straight down it. Carmine looked back at the blushing boy. He was so calm moments earlier but this seriously froze him up!? Yeah, he was definitely an Arc.

Carmine shook her head out of amazement and disbelief. “I hope you don’t get this distracted in an actual battle?” She chuckled. Carmine didn’t know why but seeing people flustered over things about her like this was always strangely adorable and interesting.

Nick pouted, “I’m way more serious when it matters! I’m even serious now in case you hadn’t noticed.” He motioned his head towards her. Carmine looked over her shoulder to see a glyph with a summoning sword aimed right at her back.

When did he-I didn’t even notice! I don’t remember seeing his hands move at all either. Even in the midst of combat it looked like Nick was always moving towards another step towards getting the edge. His parents must be proud for sure.

“You know….” Carmine bit her lip. “I’m willing to call this a draw if you don’t wanna continue?”

“Regretting not resting up?” He was a bit bitter she chose that option.

“No, I am just satisfied with things I’ve learned today and being able to fight such a unique opponent.”

“But I didn’t even get to see you use your semblance yet.”

Carmine leaned down lower and whispered in his ear so quietly that not even Veronica could hear. All of them watched curiously until Carmine finally got off of Nick and helped him up. He looked a little conflicted.

“Do we have a deal?” Carmine asked, almost pleadingly.

Nick rubbed his hand through his hair and sighed, “fine, we can put this test of swords on hold. On one condition! Show us a glimpse of what you’re really made of.”

Carmine thought about it for a moment. It would be the least of what she could do since he’s cooperating. “Okay, sure.”

“Uhh excuse me!?” Sienna chimed in. “What’s going on?

“Nick has been kind enough to let this fight be on pause in return that I get serious for a moment. Honestly the next time we fight, maybe we’ll both be able to cut loose without restrictions. I’d be honored to have a true grudge match against you.”

“I might just take you up on that. We’ll consider this the warm up then.” Nick summoned the gigas sword to his hand and picked up his actual blade. He then gave Yujin a nod that signaled the girl to pull out Carmine’s nightstick that she was still holding onto for safe keeping. Reluctantly, Yujin tossed the intriguing weapon down to its rightful owner.

“Thank you Yujin. I’m surprised you weren’t tinkering with it.”

“Could you reward my restraint by letting us know what exactly you whispered to Nick?” Her eyes got big with anticipation.

“Sorry, our little secret for now. I promise you’ll all know eventually though.”

Carmine gave her a wink before turning back to Nick; he was already back in his fighting stance. This time with a second sword pointed downwards by his left side.

“Ready when you are Carmine.”

Carmine extended the nightstick and switched her sword to her left hand. She stood up straight with her left side facing more towards him than her right. Carmine had a bit of mixed feelings about this. In now way did she actually want to have a serious fight. It was goofing around, experimenting with new ideas was interesting to say the least. Above all, Carmine didn’t want to hurt Nick in any way. Even if he only remembers this fight while in The Void, she still wanted him to continue growing. He really was starting to grow on her.

“Nick I just want you to know, after eight moves I’ll stop and ask if you want to continue. You’re a good swordsman, a great one actually. I would actually feel bad discouraging you.”

Nick could tell she wasn’t trying to belittle him in anyway, but hearing that was a bit shocking. Was there a specific reason for eight moves only? Why warn him? Did having both weapons really change things that much. This was Carmine, the girl he was actually able to hit several times.

Still he knew better than to let that go to his head. Clearly this would be a different fight. He could already tell her belief in being the strongest wasn’t all talk.

“Okay.” He nodded, slowly. “I appreciate the heads up.”

Carmine’s small smile soon faded. All that was left was near blank expression and eyes as intense as the moon behind her. Nicholas knew in that moment he wasn’t prepared, but he wasn’t about to be scared off so easily. Nothing ventured, nothing gained after all.

No one said a word, or even breathed it seemed. They were too invested in what would happen next. They wanted to know the young woman known as Carmine Arc-Rose, and what made her so different. She put her finger on the trigger of her nightstick and rubbed it slowly. The last thing Nick saw was Carmine point it behind her before a BANG!

It felt like the sound reached his ears after she did. Nick had virtually no time to even blink before those silver eyes were staring into his just a fraction of an inch away. It should’ve been over then. His body should’ve felt some sort of pain anywhere but yet it didn’t. Carmine, she didn’t attack. She only stared at him then calmly walked back to where she stood. Finally she spoke.

“The first move is free. Now then, are your nerves gone?”

Gone!? Nick felt like he might have a heart attack! Using recoil to propel movement wasn’t new in the slightest but was stupidly fast, yet she stopped right in front of him. Still, Nick had a mission. He wanted to see the other seven. He shook his body out and retook his stance.

“Seven more, right?” His voice wavered, yet his eyes held firmly to his desire. Carmine found another reason to like him. With any luck, Garnet would have half of Nick’s spirit.

“Get ready Nick…” she pointed her gun behind her again. This time he didn’t let his nerves get him and crossed his swords right in front of himself as another gunshot went off. He could only see the red tips of Carmine’s hair and her tan scarf turn into a blurry streak that went right at him.

Carmine’s sword crashed right into the guard and left a thunderous noise. She pointed her gun slightly outward from behind her and fired another shot that forced her into a spin. Her blade knocked Mort Froid away and cut right through the gigas sword, making it vanish. The momentum of the spin kept going for another three spins that slashed Nick’s chest, shoulders and then chest again. All faster than he could react to and hadn’t even begun to recover from.

Carmine didn’t give him the chance anyways. Her nightstick connected to the bottom of her sword and the actual entire blade curved down further and locked into place to form her scythe. Carmine swung it past Nick’s legs then pulled the trigger again to pull it against the back of his knees and sweep both legs into the air. Carmine quickly twirled to the right and let the scythe do a full swing tilted up that slammed into his back midair and sent him upward towards the moon.

Seven moves, just like that. Nick wasn’t sure what he was feeling right now as he stared at the moon. Time itself seemed to be in slow motion. He knew it wasn’t and yet everything Carmine just did was so fast that he might as well have been stuck in slow motion. Nick never blinked as he stared upwards, nor did he look at anyone else. His view was eclipsed however in what must’ve been a second. Carmine somehow got above him with her scythe poised to strike as she was silhouetted by the shattered celestial body behind her. Those silver eyes being the only source of light on her in this moment. So this was the difference between them, between her and everyone supposedly. This was Carmine Arc-Rose.

It wasn’t infuriating being outclassed, not like this. They were in a sense, literally worlds apart. Whatever made her this strong was unique to her in every way and yet, Nick knew that wasn’t any excuse. He was an Arc just like her, and would not falter or give in without trying his damndest!

Carmine swung straight down, aiming for the middle of his torso. An easy blow that should’ve connected, but was blocked perfectly by a glyph in that exact spot. Eight strikes, he made it through.

Carmine let out a silent gasp. Huh, he blocked me. Their eyes locked for a moment.

“Should’ve saved your free move.” Nick barely said, before finally starting to fall. Carmine grabbed the edge of the glyph and launched herself downward, catching Nick on the way down. She did a flip to readjust and gently landed on the ground. Carmine couldn’t help but look down into her arms happily to see Nick completely knocked out from exhaustion. A big ol smile right on his face.

“Not bad Nicholas Schnee. Not bad at all.”

Part 1

#rwby #rwbabies #my oc’s #yujin xiao long #summer schnee #nicholas schnee #carmine arc rose #sienna frost #jacquelyn frost #lucas belladonna #val valkyrie #lie tenzen #veronica belladonna

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dxrksong · 4 years

Text

Chapter 5 part one

Probably gonna be a three parter

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*screams into the void* I've rewritten this chapter like FIVE different times!!

Warning: mentions of alcohol and drugs. And then vomiting/nausea.

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Several in spell hours have passed, the guys taking their time to push this thing without Potentially damaging anything.

As they got distracted telling you how you guys met and what has happened to them since then.

Apparently the 'heist with markiplier' thing ACTUALLY happened, the whole internet game Markiplier had set up in your dream was ACTUALLY their reality, Mark, you, and everything else!

Flashbacks to the times you'd actually visit Yancy every other Thursday ran through your head as you remembered the entire train wreck. Yancy seemed to be remembering as well, scratching the back of his head

Yancy: I appreciate youse for rememberin' us. Youse has no idea how repetitive dat place can get.

Y/N: trust me when I say I have a VERY GOOD GUESS on that.

No one questioned you as they made their way to the manor. You on the other hand had lots of questions you didn't know how to voice.

How you should feel about the whole Markiplier somehow connecting you to that whole event being the main one.

One part of you is angry and it's rightfully so as he didn't even ask permission and whatnot.

But the other part of you held more logic and understanding and was actually kind of glad that whole thing happened. The clicking on the event more than once WAS the permission Mark needed to connect you, and if you hadn't you would've never met those three!

Your mind was completely at war with itself as you tried to sort out your feelings. It was giving you a headache as you leaned against the railing of the ship, not knowing how to fix any of this.

When ye all got to de manor

Sorry, that accent came out of nowhere.

Anyways. When you got to the manor, despite dropping the area spell you didn't really feel like going in to face the music, but with everyone else going inside you pretty much felt like you had no choice BUT to face the music.

You took out your phone and checked it.

Damn that's a lot of missed calls……

You sighed and put it away before joining the small group as they approached the front doors. Almost immediately Mark opened the door to greet the group and he spotted you in the crowd.

Mark: Y/N!!! OH THANK GOODNESS YOU'RE BACK I WAS SO-

Against your better judgment (and the others apparently) you immediately climbed onto Magnum's shoulders to avoid getting crushed by Mark's bear hug.

Straight up noped right out of that situation. Mark looked more than a little stunned at the act of avoidance.

Probably because of your little talk with him earlier. And honestly if you didn't feel so emotionally strained you probably would've actually taken it from him.

But you are, so you didn't.

Mag: ye ok first mate?

You said nothing as you got comfortable.

Yancy: oy Mark, dat's yer cue ta leave! Y/N's clearly doesn't want to talk to youse!

Illinois opened his mouth to speak but someone from the front door beat him to it.

Dark: Mark, go back to the table, we'll discuss this there.

Mark nodded slowly before leaving at a snail's pace, hesitating every step or so, looking back to you as you avoided eye contact. Dark sighed and straightened his suit before adjusting his neck

Dark: Y/N. are you alright? No one has seen you in about three hours.

You paused before shrugging. Your emotions were starting to become dull and void, you just feeling tired above all else. You yawning kind of sealing the deal on the whole thing.

Until Wilford showed up.

Wil: Y/N you rapscallion! Where have you been?!

Wil straight up snatched you from the Capitan before you let him drag you across the floor as he scolded you.

Wil: next time you want to go out on your own, at least take the Jims with you!

That's defeating the purpose of being ALONE tho.

Wil: I don't care, it's better than worrying about you!!

……..Colonel?

Wil didn't say anything, continuing to drag you to the dining room, the others not too far behind as Dark was showing them around on their way.

Man that must've been a weird sight to see YOU of all people being dragged around on the floor like some kind of ragdoll.

You honestly just wanted to pass out on the floor right then and there though….you were more or less forced into your seat, some food already set onto your plate.

The urge to faceplant was tempting but you didn't feel like suffocating in mash potatoes today as Wilford sat down nearby.

CameraJim: So where did MirrorJim go?

You shrugged, picking up your utensil as you started eating. You physically and mentally couldn't summon enough energy to speak even if you wanted to.

Maybe you should call it an early night tonight?

MicJim and CameraJim looked at each other before turning to them

Mic: hey MirrorJim, did you know we're hosting a party for the newbies?? We'll have alcohol and everything!!

All of a sudden you just lost any and all appetite you had. Alcohol……...you feel nauseous at the meer mention of the word. Your face must've given yourself away.

Wil: don't tell me you're going to skip out, what would be the point?

You groaned as memories came rushing to you. You remember the party, the whole damn thing. Even the drugs…….

Your head is pounding something FIERCE. All of a sudden you stood up

Y/N: not MY party…

You forcibly started walking to your room, not letting anyone stop you as you more or less collapsed into your room.

Dark walked into the Dining room

Dark: mind explaining why Y/N suddenly left to their room?

Mark: the Jims were talking about the party when suddenly their face went pale.

Dr.Iplier: Judging from what I just witnessed it seems Y/N may have some kind of trauma with alcohol according to their reaction.

Dark: hmm I should probably go talk to them…..

Yancy: maybe I should go-

CameraJim: no no! We caused this, WE should go!

MicJim: Jims aren't allowed to have alcohol anyway.

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You shut the door behind you before collapsing over a trashcan near your desk, the headache upgrading to nausea as more memories flashed through your mind.

You didn't just suffer the party one time…...It was a loop.

Just how long were you forced to-

You heaved, the contents of your stomach coming up into the trash can. So much for that you suppose.

You heard a knock on your door, you turning your head as the Jims peeked into the room

MicJim: May we c-MIRRORJIM!!

Oh goodness. They more or less scrambled in, kneeling beside you

CameraJim: oh Jims are so sorry, Jims didn't know!!

MicJim: please forgive Jims, MirrorJim!!!

You waved them off. You'll be fine….you think. You looked around your room, finding the collection of bags from earlier today and reaching over to find a specific bag before grabbing it and handing it to the twins who looked at you confusedly. You nodded and they went through the stuff you had gotten them

Mic: is this-

Camera: GHOST HUNTING EQUIPMENT?!?!

You smiled with a silent chuckle. Suddenly the Jims had attacked you into a group hug, you hesitating before hugging back.

Another knock was at your door and surprisingly it was Cherry this time! Cherry readjusted his glasses.

Cherry: do not let this be mistaken as worry but I had came by to escape the noisy ego's downstairs.

You coughed, waving your arms around in a seemingly random manner to you

Y/N: good to see you too Cherry.

Oh, that reminded you! You reached over and grabbed a book from one of the bags, handing it to the Red Google Android who took it with intrest.

Cherry: what's this?

You gestured for him to open it. On the inside of the book was a hand written survival book by your's truly with the help of some quick Google searches and random knowledge you've had for a while now, including anything poisonous, safe to eat, first aid training and what NOT to do, etc

The android looked up at you bewilderdly.

Y/N: you're a humanity destroying Android right? Best to equip you with the do's and don'ts of survival in case of an apocalypse! So you can best predict their moves.

Everyone kind of gave you a shocked and surprised look. All you did was snicker and hold a finger to your lips to tell them to keep it a secret.

Probably best to not to weird out EVERYONE here after all.

Cherry: I'm…..pleasantly learning more and more about you.

So you surprised him! Didn't think that would happen. Good to know your gift was a good one! You smiled, relaxing more.

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(Legit not even kidding when I say I rewrote this 5 times)

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sohin-ace · 4 years

Text

Jonathan - Trust

This is cross-posted from Wattpad and available on AO3.

Enjoy~

Your parents often told you to be careful with strangers. To not give your trust too easily. You knew that when you were alone in the streets, even in broad daylight, anything could happen. Some people were shameless, some people were ill-willed.

Today you understood what it meant when you encountered these men.

You were strolling peacefully in the streets of London and before you knew it, you diverted to a less busy area and heard voices behind you.

"Hey missy!" You turned around and saw two tall men approaching you. You didn't think much of it at first until they started grinning evilly at you.

"My, my, what is it? Why do you look so scared all of a sudden, kitten?" One of them sneered and you stared at the two.

What was happening? You thought these kind of things only happened in books.

"Now, come with us, we'll make you feel real good~" the tallest of the two taunted.

'No thanks...' you thought to yourself, no mustering the courage to say it out loud.

"Or make you feel bad if that's your thing~" They both laughed.

'I ALREADY FEEL BAD GET AWAY FROM ME!' you screamed inside your head, glances shifting everywhere in hope to maybe find someone that could help you.

Since no one seemed to notice your discomfort, you tried to bluff your way out of this situation. Your eyes laid on a tall, nice looking boy that seemed around your age, passing by right behind the two disgusting guys.

'Great!' you thought. 'This is my chance! Please God let him be of help'.

Your eyes lit up as you called for him. "Big brother!" you ran towards the dark haired stranger who had a surprised look on his face.

His eyes widened even more as you brought yourself to his chest and he didn't know what to do. Before he could even ask you who you were you looked at his blue eyes with a pleading look, silently calling for help.

He stared at you, then at the two guys who seemed to be eating you out with their gaze and he understood immediately. This was a call of duty for the gentleman that he was.

He wrapped his arms around your small form and squeezed you tight. "Sorry I made you wait. Let's go home." You nodded and walked beside him while intertwining your arms together.

He slightly turned his head around and glared darkly at the two men who clicked their tongues and went back on their funny business. When they were finally out of sight, you separated from the male and sighed deeply in relief.

"Aaah! Thank you so much! I'm so sorry to have implied you in my problems. You really saved me!" You smiled sheepishly and he chuckled.

"No it's fine! You must have been so scared, are you alright? They didn't do anything to you, did they?" He checked on you but you shook you head in response.

"No, Thank God you were here. You handled the situation perfectly. How can I thank you?" You stopped in your tracks and he stopped next to you, a soft smile gracing his lips.

"No need to thank me. It was my duty as a gentleman. Besides, seeing your smile is enough satisfaction for me."

You blushed at his charming words and shyly said "By the way, my name is Y/N L/N. I wish we met in better circumstances, mister...?"

"Jonathan Joestar. But call me Jojo."

"Jojo," you repeated softly, "How sweet!"

Jonathan blushed at your cute manners and how you voice was laced with purity when you pronounced his name. He shook those thoughts out of his head as he added.

"You shouldn't stay alone in that side of town. Let me walk you home." He extended his hand out to you and you eagerly took it, charmed by this man who saved you.

"Thank you so much Jojo. You really are kind..." You told him, grateful and he squeezed your hand in reply.

His heart was fluttering in his chest and you felt warm and fuzzy inside as well. This was for you both the beginning of a new love.

You both walked peacefully while conversing. You appreciated each other's compagny and when you finally arrived to your home, you decided to plan another meeting for you two someday soon.

"Okay, then it's settled! See you later Jojo! Come home safe!" You bid him goodbye while entering your house and he waved at you, watching your leaving form.

"... She's so perfect..." Jonathan muttered quietly to himself before heading back to his own home.

Some times passed and you two had a few dates, if you could even call them that, and you both loved to hang out together. Even if you didn't know much about each other, you still had a pleasant time by yourselves.

You had a hard time understanding Jonathan sometimes but you thought that maybe he was still a bit shy around you and it would become better overtime. It still bothered you that you were so clueless about some of his mimicks, but besides that, your friendship held on greatly.

Jojo was walking you back home one early evening, and you both saw a tall blonde figure coming from the opposite side of the path.

"Oh! Dio..." You noticed Jonathan flinching slightly, obviously more stressed than he was before.

You looked at the blonde boy approaching you both and questionned. "Do you know him?"

"He's... He's my adoptive brother..." The brunet said hesitantly and your face lit up, happy to finally meet a member of his family.

Dio came closer and stopped right in front of you both, looking at you questioningly.

"Dio, isn't it? It's nice to meet you! My name is Y/N, I'm Jojo's friend!" you greeted him sweetly and he stared at Jojo who, unbeknownst to you, was glaring daggers at Dio.

"Huh... Y/N...? How come he never mentionned you before, I wonder?" The charming boy observed, tilting his head to the side.

Jonathan clicked his tongue and wrapped a protective arm around you. "That's enough Dio, leave us alone."

Dio kept on a straight face and started walking past you, staring right into your soul as he did. It felt like he wanted to warn you and you shuddered under his strong gaze.

When he was far away, Jonathan let out a breath and turned to you. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I didn't want you to meet him. He can be quite.... Crude sometimes..."

"It's okay, I don't mind. You can't expect everyone to like you, right?"

"Yes..." he stared blankly in front of him. "You can't expect everyone to like you..." He squeezed your shoulder before releasing it. He seemed upset for some reason, but you shrugged it off and went back to walking home.

"Hey Jojo," you started. "have you heard about the recent murders that happened recently in the city?" You were both laying together on the grass, chilling under the afternoon sun and fresh breeze.

"Huh? Those two men in London? I thought that was an accident?" Jonathan looked at you, intrigued.

"No, a recent police report said that they were murdered! Isn't that scary?" you shivered at the thought. "Jojo, don't stay alone in the city, okay?"

The boy chuckled and patted your head. "You're one to talk! Don't worry, I'm strong. You stay stafe here, don't get out of my sight!" you nodded your head and laid against his chest.

He blushed at the sudden affectionate act and hoped you wouldn't hear his heart beat quicken.

Jonathan was madly in love with you. He wasn't sure when it started, but he knew that he only had eyes for you and would do anything to protect you from harm. Anything.

You woke up one day feeling sore and drowsy. Barely able to lift your head up, as if it was too heavy for you. You tried to open your eyes, but shut them tight immediately as you were hit with a strong dizziness. You groaned.

Your head still spinning, you tried to look at your surroundings. This wasn't your home...

You were sat on a chair, wrists tied to the armrests and noticed a blurry figure in front of you. You couldn't make out who it was, but you noticed the gun on his right hand and cowered in fear.

"D-don't shoot me, please!" you whimpered, shrinking yourself and ducking your head, like it would protect you from anything.

You heard the clanking of metal, the man had dropped his gun, and approached you. He then wrapped his strong arms around you, craddling your head against him.

"Oh God, no I would never!" You recognized this voice. "I'd never hurt you, my love." He whispered.

"Jonathan...?" He slowly broke the hug, staying close to your face and resting his hands gently on your shoulders. He had a soft smile on his face As you looked at him with hope. "Did you come to save me?"

His eyes turned blank, no, dull. It was like there were no soul reflecting on them anymore.

"Save you...?" his voice was void of any emotion. You couldn't recognize him anymore and your heart beat faster. His hands limped to his sides. "Aren't you safe enough here...?"

"What? Jojo, untie me, let's go home! I don't like this..." You were beyond scared and didn't know what was happening. Why was Jonathan was acting this weird?

"You are so cute when you are scared." he chuckled with sheer fondness. "I love this side of you. I wish I was the first one to have seen it."

"What are you talking about, Jojo? Why are you like this? You're really scaring me..."

He kneeled in front of you and looked up at you with a charming expression that sent chills down your spine. You started to understand that he did this to you.

When you met him, he felt so trustworthy, you thought he was your savior, that you owed him. But now you felt betrayed. You clenched your fists as you snapped at him.

"I-I didn't even know you when I trusted you to save me from these two men, but in the end, you're even more dangerous than them!" His expression shifted back to his empty gaze.

"This is exactly why I murdered them..."

"I-..it was you...?" you squeaked in terror, suddenly stripped of your previous confidence.

"Yes. They harassed you, my poor Y/N. If only... You saw the look on their face... They looked at you like you were nothing but a piece of meat. It felt so good when I got your revenge, aren't you thankful?"

He leaned in and kissed one of your pinned hands. He nuzzled his face on your hand, craving your touch and looked at you through hooded lids. You could only shake in fear. In any other circumstances, this would have been so sweet, but right now, this was a nightmare.

"I love you so much, Y/N... You understand my point of view right?" You did not. "How can I ever resist you...when you're so perfect."

"You're crazy Jonathan..." Your voice wavered.

"You make me crazy... I'll do anything for you.." he rubbed your hand soothingly and his bloody touch was surprisingly warm.

You were ashamed to admit that it felt nice. It sincerely broke your heart that you loved him when he became such an awful monster. Warm tears streamed down your flushed face as you stared at him in painful sadness.

"Aaahh..." He shakily breathed. "Aah, you're so beautiful like this...." his breathing became more and more shallow and his cheeks visibly warmed up.

Unable to resist the urge anymore, he leaned up and got closer and closer to you, his hungry gaze not leaving your lips.

You flinched and turned your face to the side. "W-what happened to being a gentleman...?"

"Aah!! I'm so sorry you are right!" He gasped, shocked with himself and his lack of manners. He gently cupped your cheek and looked at you with tender and yearning eyes that were so beautiful at the moment, it made you even sadder.

"Y/N, would you honor me with your kiss?" You stared back at him, vision blurry with tears. Did you even have a choice?

He took your silence as consent and closed the gap between you both. His lips were feathery soft against yours, like he was scared you would shatter like glass if he pressed too hard.

He broke the kiss very slowly, his face now a heated shade of red. He didn't dare look up at you. He was still the shy Jojo you met months ago and it messed you up.

He was still the same boy. He never changed, in fact, he was like this the first moment you met.

You trusted a madman. He never became crazy, he was since day one. It was all on you. He was always like this, you were just blind. God how you hated yourself.

When you realized it, you started struggling against the restraints with the little strength you had left.

"No no no, Y/N, my love, you'll hurt yourself!" He gently rest his hands over your lap in an attempt to calm you, looking up at your tear stained face.

"Please... Let me go... Why are you doing this to me...?!" you pleaded, your voice cracking into sobs and he shushed you.

"Oh no, please don't cry, I hate to see you like this..." He gently wiped the tears from your cheeks and your face contorted in sheer confusion.

What happened to him? What was going on in this head of his? He acted as sweet as before, but he was so twisted, crazy. It drove you insane.

"Look at you, Jojo! What would your father think?! What would Dio think??!!" He paused.

"...Dio..?" he whimpered barely audibly. "Dio... He wanted to take me away from you..."

You didn't say anything, but your eyes spoke all the questions for you.

"He said... I was... Unstable?" Jonathan stared at nothing with wide eyes. "That I'll hurt people...? Nonsense... T-that's not true... Dio... He's..." Tears welled up in Jonathan's eyes and you could only watch him break down before you.

"I-I didn't want to kill them either..." he sobbed, "You just... You made me do it... You didn't give me a choice..." his voice cracked painfully.

Your eyes widened in shock and fright. Was he really... putting the blame on the victim?

"Dio is... Dio... Dio is dead... My brother... He's dead..." Jonathan brought his hands to his face, shocked at the realization. "My brother is dead... Because of you...."

You were terrified. Never in your life have you been this terrified. You couldn't predict what Jonathan was capable of. What was going on in this broken mind of his. You trembled silently in front of him, breath uneven.

"You killed him..." You gulped, your throat tight. "But...Even if you killed him... I still love you." he cupped your cheeks in his huge hands, almost covering your whole face with his blood stained hands.

"I love you so much, I'll forgive you. My princess... My Y/N..." He panted hard and you felt like he was killing you softly with his gaze.

Your fight or flight response was completely out of service at the moment, you were paralyzed.

He leaned up very close to you and buried his nose in your neck. You shuddered at the contact and shied away, flustered and scared at the intimate gesture.

"You smell so sweet Y/N..." he sighed as he slid one hand behind your neck and the other down your chest.

Your breath hitched and you thought your heart was going to explode. His breath was hot on your skin and his lips tickled you, you wanted to scream.

"I need... I need to break you..." He kissed your throat hungrily and you flinched. "Break you so I can make you again..." He moaned breathlessly.

"Jojo, stop! Please, don't do this!!" You whimpered, expecting the worst, or what your imagination limited the worst to.

He delicately removed the ropes from your wrists and you could barely move your legs, the drug he put you under still effective on your sore body. You sobbed in his arms as he lifted your still body, helpless, like a doll. You became his doll.

Your parents often told you to be careful with strangers.

"Jojo, please don't!!!"

To not give your trust too easily.

"I don't want this, I DON'T WANT THIS!!!"

You knew that when you were alone in the streets, even in broad daylight, anything could happen.

"I BEG YOU, I'LL DO ANYTHING, PLEASE ANYTHING BUT THIS!!!"

Some people were shameless, some people were ill-willed.

"Jojo... Jojo, JoJO, JOJO, JOJOOO, JOOOOJOOOO, JoOooOOOOOooJOOoooOo !!!!!!!"

That day you understood what it meant when you encountered that man.

First try at Yandere. I think it suits Jonathan, to just... Give up on his humanity, you know.

...I'll never write a yandere story again lol

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo #jjba #phantom blood #jonathan #jonathan joestar #x reader #reader insert #writing #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo part 1 #part 1 #jonathan x reader #jonathan joestar x reader #yandere

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jjkpls · 5 years

Text

(y)our name 2 - one (m)

> genre : fluff, angst, light smut

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> total words : 6.7k

> warnings/content : friends to lovers, unrequited love, slice of life; a LOT of cursing, oc is... chaotic, thirsty, panicked; Bad Editing Le Retour™

You could not look any less serious. With your badly dried hair, your face glazing from the cream you just applied in a rush and your whole frame, vibrating in childish excitement. “You know what, Guk? We can decide to make it weird or we can decide to be two grownups, responsible and smart and like reliable and- and be like 'Well yeah we had sex, whatever, it’s not gonna change anything!'”

There's a heavy silence blaring in the hallway. You're too ecstatic to let it affect you but still, you wish he'd appear a little less impenetrable. He's not giving you anything to work with. And even though you can't imagine any other alternative than the one you just suggested, he has to confirm he's willing to go along. “Right?” You're defying him with your gaze, hands attached to your waist, head tilted to the side. The smile stretching your lips grow less natural and more rigid. Jungkook simply shrugs, shifting about on his feet.

“I guess you’re right.” He says but he doesn't look like he means it. He looks preoccupied. And a thought, disturbing, invades your mind. Something is burdening him. And from the frown on his adorable face, it's at least mildly serious.

“Are you okay?” You’re pouting as you ask, not meaning to tender him the way you do but you can see his troubled heart all over, in his stance, in his giant eyes. You feel bad for being the idiot concerned about that night when there is something wrong with him. Anything could have happened during those excruciatingly long and testing three weeks. Your merciless dumb ass may have missed a drama in your favourite boy’s life and the fact that you could have actually let it happen breaks your heart. “Is something wrong?”

He gazes at you, wide-eyed. They’re shining with a curious apprehension. It’s as if he wants to say something. The tiny tremble of his lips hints there is something, just right there, at the tip of his tongue. A simple little push would have the words out. “Tell me.”

Instead, he shakes his head, one of his hands rising to mess with the already chaotic pile of dark locks. “S'nothing. I’m good.”

“Jungkook.” He’s already down a few steps, his back turned to you. “You’re not gonna tell me?” There’s a tiny little edge in your voice, as if your heart's been wounded. It brings him to spin around to peek your way. You’re not that stupid. You know three weeks of break in a friendship that has, in almost a decade and a half, never had any before, must impact it somehow. You detest the idea. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know.” He says, softly. He seems all tiny, hunched over as he is, several stairs down.

“Still, you’re not gonna say?” He looks up from his shoes. There's this contemplating pout on his mouth. Again, he looks like he's debating internally.

“If- It’s not important. If I need to, I will, ok?” Your heart stings. But you want to trust him.

“You promise?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, biting a smile back. “I don’t need to, you already know.” Grinning you jump on the step next to him, wrapping with great difficulty an arm around his shoulders, you lead him down the stairs.

You're rambling loud in the resonating hallway about how you spent the whole night watching your favourite zombie movies in prevision of the day you're about to spend. He doesn't need to hear you say it all as he already knows. His phone along with him didn't have any sleep last night, as you kept sending him messages of extreme importance regarding all the technics and strategies you were actively learning watching the films and how useful they were all going to be for the zombie apocalypse-themed escape game you had made reservations for.

You are so excited, you can't contain yourself. Finding him back after having missed him so much and for so long, you just can't accept to spend any more time without him. Which is ridiculous. You two would have to get back to your lives and go to work for starters, but not now. Now you've dumped your shift on your kindest colleague at work, quite last minute, so you could have the whole day with Jungkook. Planning on going to that escape game you two had been talking about for months, making a checklist of all the places you could visit afterwards to eat and take pretty pictures if he wanted to, adding a list of the potentially interesting movies now in theater if you still have time left. Yes, you really did miss him. You don't want to say it out loud as it's been said enough the night before, but you hope he knows from how hard you hug his arm against your heart that you're still overwhelmed by the joy brought from him filling the staggering void in your chest again as if he'd never left it.

Your phone lights up on a too-familiar face and a name you feel too uncomfortable to pronounce out loud. It’s Namjoon. Again. You see Jungkook’s eyes catch it before you turn it off, and they divert awkwardly as if terrified to meet your own. Your heart stings again. Like a sharp scorching needle piercing through the thing. You can’t bear the awkwardness. You used to be able to talk about anything. Even some things that require litres of liquid courage and lead to consequences such as burning ears and heavy sweating. But never anything has just been brushed over. The realization that something is installing itself between you hits. A new norm, where some subjects must remain unmentioned. It’s horrifying so quickly you blurt out, “We broke up!” Jungkook looks up from his bubble tea, eyes large like saucers.

“Yeah, I heard so. From Jimin.” He doesn’t ask for more information and it’s upsetting. You want him to know he can ask anything. Anything that is yours, anything that is you is his too.

He should know it all.

“It’s just- he is- he is not an asshole but I don’t know, I guess we didn’t agree on everything. He wanted me to choose between you and him.” Your eyebrows raise, head shaking in remaining disbelief. He had some nerves. You felt bad momentarily because it meant Namjoon believed your relationship to be strong enough to face this kind of ultimatum. But he was so rude about it! So rude and assertive, it didn’t even give you the willing to clarify things up with him, to sort things out, consider a compromise. As if you’d ever sincerely only dare think about giving up Jungkook for anyone or anything else. You would never.

Jungkook smiles around the straw he's gnawing on and you chuckle. You're sharing the same mischievous glance you used to when younger, you would find some shenanigans to ditch a third party you were not inclined to stay with so you two could play and be yourselves exclusively together. Like a secret handshake, you have your secret smile. There you know you'll be fine.

After some time, he feels comfortable enough to bring Namjoon back to the conversation. It's just to apologize again about what happened. He doesn't leave on any more information, any answer to the burning question you've carried with you since the incident but you decide to not push it. It was fucking weird, this whole mess of a situation. So unlike him to hit someone. So unlike you to turn your back on him as if there would ever be a valid reason for you to stop loving him. A piece of the puzzle is missing, however, you trust him with it. Surely, he'll give it to you one day and that's fine.

You're cutting the calm quietness surrounding you with a sudden burst of giggles. He squints at you, eyebrows frowned as if he already knows and it makes you laugh harder.

“Shut up!” He groans while trying to reach for your phone on the table. Your reflexes are cat-like though, and before he knows it, the hilarious video you shot today of him, fighting incredibly poorly a zombie, plays for the two of you to enjoy. He's screaming so loud, cursing a bunch of profanities you've never heard him say, and when his ass hits the ground without the actor touching him you're throwing your head back, crying in hilarity. It's been torturing you for the past two hours. Each time your brain starts to putter, the video comes knocking and you just can't help the bubbling mess to rumble from your chest. You only stop when he starts to threaten you, saying he is going to leave and head home.

You really don't want to go home. Or more like, you don't mind going home but he has to come and stay with you. Why couldn't you have been born as Siamese twins?

Sticking the lollipop out of his mouth, he winces in pure disgust, “That'd be horrible!”

“What? Why? It'd be awesome! We'd be stuck to each other all the time!” Which is an enchanting thought -maybe it needs to be precise. You're sure he thinks the same. The grimace intensifying on his face is just comedy.

“We'd be siblings, by the way. Not best friends. That wouldn't work.”

“Let's hot glue the shit out of our hips so we can test this theory out!”

“What are you even-” You don't interrupt him, he does himself, deeming it's pointless. Halting his steps, sighing deep and loud as he stares down at you like you're crazy. Maybe you've turned a little bit insane. That's what too much Jungkook and sugar do to you: you're sincerely considering the whole hot-glueing thing. “Ok. You're going to bed.” It's a gasp that answers him and like a dad who knows how to handle his misbehaving child, he cuts you off before you even get to say anything.

“___, it’s 3 am. Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

“I start at 5 pm!” You pester, hitting the ground with your foot.

“Still. Don’t be ridiculous. You need sleep.” His huge eyes blink slowly, his face contorting weirdly as he contains a yawn. He's the one who needs sleep but-

“But-”

“You really did miss me, huh?”

He's all smug eyebrow-dance and wiggly shoulders so you decide to simply be honest, that'll shut him off. “Of course I did!” He tsks, not having expected this as he stares off the distance, looking anywhere but you. You pout, hitting his ugly sneakers with your own boots. “Why do you keep wearing those things?” The offending bulky things are daring you to criticize them further.

“You don’t know fashion.”

“Oh is that fashion? Ok, I guess I really don’t know then.” When you look up at him, grinning, he has that look on. Head slightly tilted to the side, tight-lipped smile, the one that pinches the skin around his mouth into a tiny dot, eyes looking soft but implacable. It’s the look he has when he’s telling you off and it makes you whine indignantly. “I don’t wanna go home yet.”

“But you will.” He decides, sticking the lollipop back against the inside of his cheek, gaze all ominous before he's throwing you on his shoulders. You'd scream if it were not the middle of the night and you didn't mind having people calling the police on you two for night fuss.

It's not the end anyway. You're dramatic and greedy because it feels natural to be in these circumstances but you know you two will be fine. You should let him go home to sleep without fearing losing him again.

There's no doubt in your mind. Still, instead of your brain to sink in the happiness and let you fall peacefully asleep on your two ears, the uncooperative thing just wouldn't let you rest. Keeping you wide awake and alert, bringing thoughts way too joy-filled to not render you giddy and fidgety.

I guess it wasn’t that terrible. It wasn’t bad at all. You did apprehend it. Not only were you two to start hanging out again after a pause that felt like an eternity, but you had also to do so after spending the night that you did together. It seemed easy enough on his part. Maybe because he seemed already preoccupied with something else. Either way, it went smoothly. Like riding a bike. Something you never just stop knowing how to do. Jungkook and you, it’s natural. It’s pure fated affection, there’s no place for any lagging. This you confirmed today.

As the days pass, the routine reinstalls itself, with morning breakfasts shared, impromptu hellos, and stray kitties pictures sent out throughout the day.

It feels wonderful. You can appreciate what you used to have with a whole new level of intensity. It’s like hovering over the Earth on a candy cloud. You’re not lucky, you’re blessed, gifted. Nothing is that upsetting. Nothing is that tiring. Everything fixes before it even breaks because there’s Jungkook and the happiness he brings everywhere along with him.

You’re not that bad at being cool about the whole one-night thing. Not as good as him but still good enough. You manage to prevent anything potentially compromising to slip, refract any impulsive gesture towards his arms or his chest or his thighs even. You do end up blushing furiously sometimes when an unexpected careless babe falls through his lips, or when he mutters your name quietly to bring your attention to him and the breathless calls from this one night remind themselves to you. And of course, it would be like this. How could it not? How could you just say each other’s name so casually when you heard them being moaned by the other the way you did. That’s what you think. But he doesn’t seem on the same page as you. And that puzzles you. Not greatly, you know him to be more used to unattached sexual affections, but still.

How could he not be affected when you’re pretty sure you screamed his name? That’s the other thing about the fateful night and its consequences, the more time passes the less you remember every detail of it, and you dread it. You wish it would stay intact, untouched in your head, as grandiose as it was when it happened.

It’s worrying. How obsessed you are about the incident. But not for the reasons one could expect.

Your friendship is not at stake per se. Or maybe it is in a way, and that’s why you’re not presenting yourself to him with those thoughts.

It’s not about Jungkook or more so, it’s less about the feelings you adorn for him, and more about his skills. Because he does have skills. You have no idea where they come from. If he’s spent years secretly attending sexology seminars or if he was born an incubus and for some reasons you knew nothing about that, point of the matter is: he blew your mind. He ruined you, opened up a door inside you had no idea was there and it felt so good during and after, that you find yourself feeling miserable at the idea that maybe, you won’t ever fall upon a lover like him.

Namjoon was fine. He didn’t have the best stamina and was a bit too stiff to plant and bloom passion as intense as Jungkook managed to in few minutes but he was ok. Taehyung was fine too. Perhaps tending to be a bit selfish, forgetting to give back if you didn’t remind him but for the most part decent -he did have a huge shrine that wasn’t so handy in practice but still managed to entice you and make you squirm before you realized that, except for pain and discomfort, the hugeness of it didn’t bring much more.

And that’s the thing that annoys you the most: they used to be good. They used to be in your mind more than good enough. You didn’t question the possibility of having more. It was alright. You didn’t come each time. You never came more than once in one encounter. But it was fine for your standards. You didn’t know any better, that there could be more to it. Now Jungkook swirled in, wrecked you, leaving you a satisfyingly empty shell lain in a puddle of your own arousal and that’s the mind-blowing sex you want to have for the rest of your life. The thought that maybe he is one exceptionally proficient guy, member of a very rare and exclusive club of fucking abnormally phenomenal lovers that has the secret access to a secret magic to Orgasms -with a capital O because what you thought to identify as orgasms before definitely are not the same things as what you experienced with your best friend- it’s depressing and horrifying and makes you want to start a fucking riot against the universe and maybe against men for not all being as good. Because they should. Fuck, there would be no more cheating partners, no more lonely solo underdogs, eternal peace in the world if everyone dared be as good of a lover as Jungkook.

Maybe you’re over exaggerating. Maybe. Probably not.

How, how in the hell are you supposed to just brush that memory like a simple anecdote, marking your history like any other tiny souvenir would, like that first time he cried in front of you right after he scratched his hands falling from his skateboard and you had kissed it better, or that time he lied for you so you wouldn’t get your ass beaten by your parents after having skipped two classes to go make out behind the school with Kim Seokjin.

Well, you can’t. It’s impossible. And at first, it’s fine. It just means you spend a little more time in the shower, you're a little slower at work because you have to constantly bring your brain back to the task ahead, you’re overall a little more angsty and every time you meet up with Jungkook, there’s a little apprehension. It’s a little less 'I can’t wait to see that dumbass’ cute face even though he might bully me for not having showered', and a little more 'I’m going to meet with my good old friend who happens to be the man who fucked my brains out that one time, so maybe I should put on that skirt'.

The permanent tension doesn’t last that long. He’s too much like he’s always been. You’re too happy with him like you’ve always been.

Things go along as they should. You repress actively your deviant brain, decide you’re going to get over him because he is not the only man on this fucking Earth and there’s no way, there’s no fucking way -it’d be too unfair- he is the only good man worthy of your time.

Soon you realize that in fact, he is. In a way or another, by some curious black magic or something, he managed to make himself the only man left on this Earth. What a dick, you think. Because now he’s gotten back to his life, his awesome life of an awesome dude, unbothered, untroubled by whatever the fuck happened when you, on the other hand, are all broken.

There's this thing about you. You used to fall a bit in love with every person you’d see when you'd be single. There would be this tall guy with his beanie low on his forehead pushing his fringe in his eyes, reading some manga on the train, and you’d start making up a sweet history for him and you’d wish he’d look up for a second and fall in love with you too. But he’d leave without noticing you and then this young woman would walk in with a dude on her toes. She’d look saddened while the guy would look annoyed and you’d start thinking about where you’d like to take that girl out and what cute pet name she’d like you to give her when you’re not even into girls -allegedly. You’re desperate for love. You’ve always been. Which could be surprising as instead of having a childhood deprived of it as often have the people who grow to be very demanding when it comes to affection, you were spoiled with it. Instead of curing you, the force-feed love rendered you addicted and you've always wanted more. More people to meet and discover and adore. Rarely enough. Except when you’re in a relationship. You’re not simply loyal you’re fully invested. You want to be good, to be the best, bring the most. You know how to direct all your time and attention and aspiration on one person without wanting to look away.

And that’s what you need again. Maybe. Someone to prove you that sex is not it all. You never thought that before stupid Jungkook but now, you're questioning it. He did break you. You think constantly about it, not wondering what compliment that one stranger like to hear, what place that other stranger would love you to make them discover, you're wondering if they could make you feel good. If their bodies would be as hard and hot as Jungkook's. If their sexes could fill you up and stretch you, hard and right the way his did. And fuck Jungkook because not only did he change your way of considering people -which is fucked up, by the way, you feel like a creep every time you catch yourself doing it-, he made them all uninteresting. None, even in fantasy, do it for you. You don’t want them to touch you. You don’t want to touch them. You wonder what’s under their clothes without really wanting to know. That’s not that surprising. You’ve always been a very emotional person and perhaps it’s just not something for you. Perhaps you can’t fuck without affection. But at the same time, it’s what you want, it’s what you need. Just purely wild and relieving sex.

It’s the reason why you end up grabbing your phone, tapping your passcode in a fury because the print sensory thingy won't work and you’re already pissed enough as it is. Wrist hurting, breathing laboured, pussy quivering uselessly around nothing, you quickly get to your chat log with Jungkook. You’re mad. It’s the umpteenth time that you try to get yourself off and end up on the verge of crying from frustration because you can, physically, feel yourself craving for a cock to fill you up -possibly his. It’s the worst feeling. A degree of desperation like you never have felt before. And it is insane because never in a million years could you have imagined that sometimes a woman, and you of all, could have your cunt yearning for something that bad. It’s like it builds and builds, not phenomenal but seemingly good enough, and then it snaps but as you come, you feel the lacking spoiling completely your already low-quality orgasm. One of the worst experience of your life. You’re enraged and delirious from the dissatisfaction and that’s why you end up sending him this message:

you : thinking bout u

Read. Right away. There are the three little dots blinking on the screen, your brain adds a mental drumroll to accompany it. And then they disappear. Five minutes pass, you’re dying, feel like your pussy might catch a cold staying open like that -which is quite dumb and lewd but you’re so upset, you spent so much energy on attempting to get off that you can’t even get yourself to roll over to the side (it’s not even like he’s going to teleport himself there and just slip inside at any instant). The dots don’t come back so you decide to text him again, a bit more apprehensively.

you : do u think about me?

jungkook : are you making a YouTube video?

You’re confused for a while, reading multiple times the text over, simply not getting it until the phone vibrates again in your palm.

jungkook : like a lyric prank

Ah.

you : Ah no. And why would I chose a song from 2009 to do that

jungkook : It’s not 2009 and cause you’re lame like that

This is absolutely not going the way you planned, you think finally closing your legs together. Then you remember that you didn't plan shit.

you : 😐

jungkook : What do you want anyway? Why aren’t you sleeping

jungkook : ?

you : I just told you

jungkook : I don’t know what you mean

Is he messing with you? Or does he sincerely not know? Fuck, you hate texting. You never know what the person on the other line genuinely means. You're not being a coward tonight though, so you send:

you : You said to tell you if I ever think about you

The torturous three musketeers are back, cackling right in your face as you stare, for an eternity, wishing for something, anything, to replace them. It’s outrageously long. It’s like he’s typing his eulogy or something. Until the dots are replaced but by worst than any text, no text at all. They disappear and nothing else comes through. The embarrassment is so overwhelming, your body finds the strength to fully wince, your legs jerking up to your chest and your whole body falling sideways from just the cringe. What a fucking idiot. Your face buried in the pillow, you wail and groan in emotional pain. Then it shakes again, the cellphone, the cursed object you shouldn’t be allowed to own. You grab it with your eyes shut close, terrified at what the screen has to show you. When you gather the courage to look, you frown: it’s a link. A URL you don’t recognize. You tap on it, gnawing nervously on your lip as Safari takes forever to load the page and once it's done, and the title of the page appears, you wish it wouldn’t have loaded at all. Fucking hell. You’re going to die. You’re dying of embarrassment tonight, it’s decided.

'69 Best Masturbation Tips for Female Orgasm'. It’s an article about masturbation. He sent you that. To help probably. Because he doesn’t want to do it himself and doesn't know how to say it. Of fucking course he doesn’t want to and oh-my-fucking-god how could you have been so fucking stupid.

you : Sorry

There are the dots again but you can’t bear to see them again so quickly you type a desperate:

you : I’m really sorry, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. Sorry sorry JK please just forget I said anything sorry good nighttt 😅 😅

It’s the worst moment of your entire life. And this thought, the thought that it’s so terrible, nothing will ever compete for that title, is the sole reason why you decide to not suffocate yourself to death in your pillows. The worst just happened.

You’ll just avoid him. For a few days. If he lets you. He probably will. The poor guy is probably feeling even more awkward than you. You were acting so normal, regular platonic friendliness and suddenly he learns that you’ve been lurking over his ass for all this time. For fuck's sake. You’re the worst. There's a tiny voice in your head that's not a bitch and keeps telling you that a couple of days would suffice and eventually your cheeks’ crimson will reduce and progressively the whole thing will be lost in your memory like those events that sometimes fade so far away, you’re not even sure if they were ever real or simple dreams. Except this one is a fucking nightmare and as you toss and turn around relentlessly for the whole night you’re sure you won’t ever forget it did happen and the shame that you felt.

And you’re wrong about that. Because as you wake up the next morning after having successfully fallen asleep for an hour around 6 am, the memory is blurry. It’s flimsy. The burning devastating emotions are gone like they hardly ever existed and you can sigh in relief as you stretch out of bed, body sore and rusted but mind fresh and enthusiastic. You feel like you’ve just woken up from a power nap -you know the fatigue will strike you half-dead later, around 10 am or 2 pm, you’re not sure yet-, feeling positive and wanting to move the world with how productive you feel like being today.

And then your initial hypothesis is proven right. As you reach for your phone by rote, meaning to check the time and your notifications as you usually do, you fall upon the text Jungkook sent you right after you shut your phone off, the night before.

jungkook : It’s okay

That’s it. Hell befalls once again on your stupid self. It’s like last night, all over again. Your eyes well up, aiming to fill up the tenuous rivers dried up on your cheeks. You fall on your face back in bed, yelling full-on in your mattress. It’s horrible. It’s horrible. It’s horrible.

“Are you okay?!” You hear Eun ask from the other side of the wall. Her voice is all hoarse from sleep and now you feel even worse for having woken her up with your idiocy. Stupid and selfish you are.

“Yes, sorry!” There’s a loud thump as you assume she lets herself fall back to sleep. You’re glad she’s too tired to register the tremble in your voice and the obvious desperation even you could decipher.

'It’s okay' with no emoji, no nothing. The emptiest text you’ve ever received. It’s worse than one of those 'ok' assholes send sometimes as an answer to a long invested text. You know what it means. It means it is not okay. He is too sweet to tell you off the way he should or wants to. He knows you’re not an inconsiderate bitch and that you will read through the pixels with this simple two words that it is not okay, he’s not interested and he feels bad but that’s just how things are.

The alarm of your phone rings loud. You’re reminded of your stupid duty you’re supposed to attend to: your job. You feel like a teenager again. Well, in reality, you never really stopped feeling like one. When something would happen, you expected the whole world to stop for you to deal with it. You were too spoiled as a kid. People would actually stop. You remember walking down the playground, eager to play at something but not knowing what and sauntering about looking out for your different options and all the kids, no matter what they were busy playing at would stop and stare, sharing quick nods of approval before one of them, one for each group, would walk up to you and try to convince you to stay with them. Everybody liked you at the time, everybody always loved you without you completely realizing, only occasionally would you suspect it with a sheepish mischievous smile hidden in the corner of your lips.

And now you’re twenty-three and someone, the person who’s supposedly is always cherishing you, doesn’t want you. Which is fair. Fair enough. You’re friends and it’s weird for him, you get it. But he said that you could call him whenever you thought about him. He said it. And he said something else. You can’t remember properly now but you remember what you thought at the time: that he was suggesting you’d do it again. That happened. Whatever the exact terms were, he did hint at wanting other times to happen. Then again, he did say a lot of things that night. And obviously, those were spurred in the heat of the moment. You guess he’s smooth along with being talented. His words are part of the whole thing and for good reasons, it works like a charm.

But, therefore, of fucking course, you’d take it seriously. Of course, it’d take roots in your weak mind and bloom into invading, overpowering desires.

You’re pissed at him now, you realize as you struggle to apply mascara from how much your hand is shaking. You’re angry because he is the asshole behind all that. Even if he did not do it on purpose, he’s made you like that, fucking obsessing over his fucking dick like it’s the only one left and you’re meant to save humanity from extinction. He didn’t have to be that good to you. And why would he say those stuff if he didn’t mean them? That’s fucking sick. And why does he not want you anyway? He didn’t have a problem with you being best friends the first time. He sure enjoyed it, right?

Right?

Your memory is hazy.

You’re not sure if you just made it all up from the pleasure you were experiencing. He is good. But maybe you suck? Maybe he just went along and concluded with you because he was too sweet to back up and stop in the middle of the course of action but in fact, he didn’t enjoy it. You didn’t do a lot, that much is true. You didn’t feel too bad about it before because you were sure he still had his fair share of pleasure but now that you’re not sure, now that you consider the idea that maybe your brain affected the real turn of events to spare your ego and feed that magical experience you had, you feel like shit. It must be it. With all those girls, beautiful, liberated you’ve seen him with over the years, he must have had expected and wanted more. He didn’t end up that talented with no one to practice with. And there you were, awkward potato who couldn’t keep the lights on -which apparently was such a big deal-, way more inexperienced than you thought yourself to be, giving him the worst sex of his life. Of fucking course, he wouldn’t want to do it again.

It’s decided you’re never meeting him again. It’s not his fault. It’s yours. You suck balls. Or rather you don’t and that’s the issue.

Fuck. This is so embarrassing. It's been a couple of hours since the curse text he's sent, and you don't feel any better. If only you could focus on those dumb coffee orders and forget about your stupid pussy for a second.

It’s a little easier after a few mistaken cups of weird lattes, when your manager, perched like an owl on a bar stool, starts staring at you like she’s about to fly to you and bite your head off.

It gets harder when you finish your shift and your mind is left to think about him again and the atrocious humiliation. You’re cringing the whole ride home. Having to stop yourself from growling out loud in frustration, not wanting to freak people out by making them think you’re rabid or something. And it turns the hardest when you have to walk past his door and ignore it, when it’s right fucking there, to quickly flee in your apartment. You’re sweating and shaking once you’re inside, pressing yourself against the door, praising the barrier protecting your ego from him.

Wow. That’s insane but you don’t want to see him ever again. Or at least not until it quiets down. It’s too much. You know there shouldn’t be a seat for shame in your friendship but you can’t help it. It’s just Jungkook but it’s also the best lover you’ve ever had and, you can't deny it anymore, an extremely attractive man. And you’ve humiliated yourself in front of that man.

It’s the reason behind your avoiding him. You don’t even take the time to think about it and try to rationalize, think about what he might be feeling, think about the implications of your action, about how childish you’re being, you just do it.

At first, it’s a blast. Knowing you would work hard to precisely avoid him makes it more bearable for your existence. You don’t wake up with an awful tummy ache and a migraine just considering having to talk to him and act fine and casual as if you’re not dying inside. You won’t see him so it’s fine. It requires a little effort though. A little checking the area for safety with an unsuspecting Eun. A little hustling as you have to steal all of your colleagues' early shifts so that you don’t have to be home for breakfast and see him land in your living-room to eat with you. A little stealth when you have to come home as you do in the early afternoons and you don’t know for sure if he’s not working from home, eagerly tending the ear to try and catch you coming home. His ear is very sharp and you know when you don’t pay attention and are loud climbing up the stairs, he can hear you from his apartment. He told you before that he recognizes the sound of your stepping, different from Eun’s and that’s how he knows you’re home safe when you get off work at ungodly hours of the night, and knows to send you a sweet encouraging text when he hears you leave ungodly early.

It’s because of those messages that you start feeling too bad to handle. The first time, in a panic, you had answered the text with a raccoon gif. He responded with a sympathetic laughing emoji and you decided you sucked faking casualty and would simply restrain yourself from answering his morning texts. It’s been cleared out already that you should not be allowed to use a fucking cellphone.

He's too powerful though. The kindness of his texts and the guilt you’re facing directly proportionate to it adds to the fact that you miss him. It’s been five days and you miss him immensely. It’s when Eun who asks why the boys haven’t been around in so long that you realize you’re really being a bitch. He deserves better than that. Therefore, laying down on the sofa, legs propped on the armchair, naked feet shaking in anxiety in the air, you pick up your phone because you never learn apparently.

you : you wanna have a ““““spooky””””” movie night? Netflix put up the scream movies + pizzas

It's natural enough. Doesn't mention anything risky and that's perfect.

jungkook : I’m in busan rn

you : What? Why are you in Busan?

you : And since when?

jungkook : Two days. I’m coming home tomorrow night

jungkook : For a seminar

jungkook : And you would know if you were not so busy avoiding me

Well, here goes the not-mentioning-anything.

Another quirk of yours: when your mind is set on something, hardly anything can make your aim waver.

you : *gasp* I don’t appreciate being called out like that

Nicely played.

jungkook : Don’t care

But he's going to be difficult.

you : 😐 😐

jungkook : Are you embarrassed about the other night? That’s fucking dumb

you : You fucking dumb

jungkook : Why are you so embarrassed? I told you it’s fine

you : But it’s not though. I feel terrible still

jungkook : There’s no reason everybody gets horny

you : But I rubbed it in your face when clearly you don’t want it I’m verysorry

jungkook : Stop apologizing

And again, as always, it just goes smoothly. You don't understand this. It used to be so simple being friends with him. But lately, it's like everything is a challenge. You always doubt before being proven that yes, things are like they've always been. You have no reason to doubt your friendship, nor him. The weight lifted off of your chest feels incredible as it leaves, bringing a few relief tears to the corner of your right eye. It's the end of it, at last.

jungkook : who said I don’t want it

a/n : yes, it’s happening, (y)our name is back. Way sooner than expected but it’s kookie’s bday so i felt i had to give him another chance. So, there should be 2 other chapters to follow, all in reader’s pov. I’d really like to know what you guys think. I feel like it’s too messy (it took me a while to write and i’ve been feeling stressed out so i think it transpires too much). in any case, i really hope you enjoyed, i know a lot of you anticipated a sequel so i hope i don’t disappoint. i’ll try to have the second part up next week-end. until then, peace out boys scout!

& a happy birthday to our angel, please bid your well wishes hard enough so they can reach him.

Hugs and kisses and love to you all. 💜

▲ Comment ‘tag’ if you want to be tagged when I post the next part! ▲

#btssmutclub #gukkienet #btswriterscollective #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts angst #jungkook angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #my writing

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