#pretty sure i got all the baseball mentions -- there's another one when mark first talks to laura but it's. slim so i didn't include it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

snelbz · 3 years

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Life As We Know it {Chapter 15}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Nesta looked in the mirror and figured she looked decent enough. Having not been on an actual date in quite some time, she felt a little off her game, but the dress she had chosen felt better than the others she had tried on.

After admiring the deep, crimson color and the way her breasts looked in the low neckline, Nesta sprayed her hair and slipped on her heels before grabbing her clutch and walking down the stairs.

Nyx was in the living room, bouncing up and down in his exersaucer. When he saw Nesta, he grinned.

“Hi, sweet boy,” she said, leaning down to kiss the top of his head and hoping her lipstick hadn’t rubbed off. “Cassian?”

“Kitchen!”

“I’m heading out,” Nesta said, leaning back up.

He was a room away, in the kitchen, making the gods knew what for their dinner. Nyx always ate whatever she made for him, but it was typically a challenge. Earlier in the week, Cass had started deviating from his generic meals for Nyx of jarred baby food and puffs. It seemed like it didn’t matter what the man fed him, Nyx adored it.

She made her way into the other room and stood behind a chair at the kitchen table and cleared her throat. “I shouldn’t be home too late,” she said, drumming her fingers along the wood.

Cass glanced back at her and his eyebrows rose. “You sure? You look pretty nice for shouldn’t be home too late.”

Blushing, she said, “We’re just going to dinner.”

He turned back to the stove, where he was sautéing some broccoli and carrots, but she caught the smirk on his face. “I doubt dinner will be the only thing he wants to eat.”

A knock from the front door halted whatever her response was going to be.

For a moment, neither of them moved, then Cassian blinked. “Are you going to get that or should I?”

Nesta huffed as she made her way back through the house and opened the front door.

Balthazar was there, that glorious smile plastered on his handsome face. His brown eyes went wide in appreciation. “Wow. You look incredible.”

Nesta looked down at her dress before saying, “Thanks. You look pretty good yourself.”

“Thanks-.”

“Alright, don’t keep her out too late and make sure she doesn’t drink too much.” Nesta spun around to find Cassian leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. “She’s not a pretty drunk.”

She widened her eyes at him, not sure if he was joking or not. The glimmer in his eyes said yes, but she couldn’t be sure.

Balthazar narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze trailing down Cassian’s arms. “Are you Illyrian?”

Nesta swore she felt the tension in the room thicken at the three words.

“I am,” Cassian said, and she wondered if the flexing of his arms was intentional or not. “So I’d be real careful what the next words out of your mouth are.”

Balthazar smirked and unbuttoned one of his shirt sleeves, rolling it up to reveal—

Illyrian markings.

Cassian’s brows shot up and Nesta looked back and forth between the two of them.

“You’re from Illyria?” Nesta asked, once it was clear that Cassian wouldn’t say a thing.

“I am,” Balthazar said. “Grew up in the mountains. Moved here nearly a decade ago, but my parents still live there. I go there a couple of times a year.”

Cassian whistled before Nesta could say anything. “The mountains are beautiful. My mom used to take me up there for a getaway when I was younger.”

“Ah, yeah, I love it there,” Balthazar said. “I’d love to move back someday.”

Nesta cleared her throat, awkwardly. “I hate to break up this bonding moment, but we do have dinner reservations.”

“Right, of course,” Balthazar said, nodding. He stepped back, letting Nesta by. “If you’re ready, we can go.”

“Cass, have a good night,” she said, throwing him a look over her shoulder.

“Yeah, y’all, have fun,” he said, smirking at her as he closed the door behind them.

Balthazar walked Nesta to his car, opening her door for her and heading to his own side, climbing behind the driver seat. They rode in silence for a second before Balthazar said, “I’m glad you said yes.”

Nesta, despite herself, blushed as she looked over at him across the car. “I am, too.”

Cassian hadn’t been lying when he told Nesta he wanted her to go out with the doctor. If she had a boyfriend, he’d be less likely to think about sleeping with her again.

But he hadn’t expected to see another Illyrian at the front door. There would have been no way he could’ve known, since Nyx had only had to go to the doctor once while they’d had him, but surely Rhys would have mentioned that his son’s doctor was Illyrian at least once. There weren’t many Illyrians in Velaris, most of them choosing to stay in Illyria, to the north.

He hated that Balthazar was a nice guy.

A great guy.

A damn Illyrian.

While Nesta was gone, Cassian tried to keep his mind off of her on her date. And yet, it’s all he could think about, which was ridiculous. Nesta deserved to be happy, deserved to have fun.

And Cassian wasn’t complaining. He loved hanging out with Nyx, loved doing all the things that uncles did. And yet, Cassian felt off.

Everything was better when Nesta was around.

Nyx whimpered and Cassian seemed to understand as he lifted his nephew out of his bouncy seat and cradled him in his arms.

“Aunt Nesta will be home soon,” he crooned, bouncing Nyx.

The baby still looked around, looking for her.

For the first couple months after the accident, Nyx had constantly looked around, constantly searched for Rhys and Feyre. But recently, he hadn’t been looking around much anymore, and when he was it was for one of them.

Silently, Cassian had hoped it didn’t mean he was forgetting about Rhys and Feyre.

He sighed, carrying him to the kitchen. “Uncle Cass wants some ice cream, how does that sound?”

He clapped once and Cassian chuckled. He got a big bowl, with two spoons and settled back on the couch, Nyx next to him.

Nyx’s bites were much smaller, and Cassian tried his best not to laugh when his eyebrows bunched together, a little brain freeze hitting him unexpectedly. After he’d had a few bites, Cassian set him down on the carpet, letting him crawl over to where his toys sat on the floor.

“When are you gonna walk, dude?” He asked, watching as he banged two plastic blocks against each other.

Nyx had mastered pulling himself up right before he turned one. Yet for whatever reason, he still hasn’t taken his first steps. He and Nesta talked about it a lot, and they’d discussed whether it was something they should ask his doctor about.

He supposed Nesta could do so tonight if she was so inclined.

“It’s about time for bed, you know,” Cassian said, watching as Nyx threw his toys across the living room. “For you and me. Once you go to sleep, I’ll be right behind you.”

Nyx made a noise that nearly made Cassian laugh out loud.

“Exactly,” Cassian went on. “So, let’s get you in your pajamas, then Uncle Cassian is going to relax for a while.”

Nyx didn’t protest as Cassian carried him upstairs and started to get him ready for bed. Cassian gave Nyx a bath and got him into his pajamas before he laid him in his crib. After patting his belly, Cassian went back downstairs and laid on the couch.

He laid in silence for ten minutes before deciding that Nyx was sound asleep and nothing would wake him.

Now, all he could think about was Nesta’s date.

He didn’t let himself think about why that was.

Nesta wasn’t sure she had laughed this hard in months. She was actually fairly sure she hadn’t.

Not since before the accident.

“Wait, wait,” she said, using her napkin to dab underneath her eyes, having laughed so hard that tears slipped out. “There were how many people there?”

“At least two thousand at the game and way, way more watching on TV,” Balthazar replied, cringing, reliving the time he’d accidentally been pantsed during a championship baseball game in college.

And had left nothing to the imagination.

Nesta was laughing again, but took a sip of her wine and shook her head. She was having an amazing time. The conversation was coming easily, the food was delicious, and Bal had made a spectacular wine choice.

He reached across the table and took her hand. “I’m having a good time,” she admitted, surprising herself.

He brushed a thumb over her knuckles and smiled. “I am, too.”

Nesta looked down where their hands met. His hands were interesting. Softer than she expected, but strong. Not rough, at all, like Cassian’s were.

Her eyes snapped up to Bal’s.

She wasn’t going to think about Cassian.

“You know, I hear they have amazing desserts here,” Nesta went on, keeping her hand in his.

“I hear the same,” Balthazar said. “In fact, I may have ordered us a sample board while you were in the ladies’ room.”

Nesta raised a brow. “Is that so?”

Balthazar nodded with a grin. “I figured why only taste one when you can taste them all?”

Nesta laughed, quietly. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Just as dessert came, Balthazar ordered another bottle of wine, and Nesta was blown away. Once again, she knew that doctors made good money, but it was surely the most extravagant date she had ever been on.

Having already eaten the cheesecake and the pavlova, Nesta scooped up a bite of chocolate cake and moaned. Her eyelids fluttered shut and she sighed, delighted.

When she opened her eyes, Balthazar was watching her, intently.

Nesta’s cheeks turned pink.

If she would have been asked to sleep with Balthazar a week before, she would have surely said yes. But now? Even with that look in his eye, she hesitated. He was handsome. Sexy, even, and she was certain that underneath his suit he was built like a Greek god. He was charming. He was kind. He was a perfect gentleman.

On paper, he was complete and utter perfection in every single way.

A part of her — a bigger part of her than she liked to admit — however, couldn��t shake the pleasure she had received only nights before by someone who was very much not the man sitting across the table from her now.

“I’m stuffed,” Nesta said, at last, draining what was left in her wine glass.

“Happily stuffed or in pain stuffed?” Balthazar asked, his voice a little quieter, that look in his eye remaining.

Nesta chuckled, softly. “Oh, happily, for sure.”

“Good,” Balthazar replied, and waved to the server for their check.

They were back in his car within fifteen minutes, and Balthazar reached across the middle console to take Nesta’s hand.

She let him.

“I have to confess,” Balthazar began, his voice just above the soft radio, “that I don’t want this night to end.”

“Does that mean that you’re taking me out again?” Nesta asked, looking over at him.

He smiled, not taking his eyes off the road. “Does that mean you’re saying yes to another date?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed,” she replied, tracing the line of his long fingers with her free hand. She quietly admitted, “Though, I won’t have another free Saturday for a couple of weeks.”

“That’s okay.” He pulled their joined hands across the console and pressed his lips to the back of her hand. “I can wait.”

His lips were warm against her skin, and he had just a bit of stubble on his face, enough to tickle, not to scratch. She swallowed roughly, wondering again what he would be like as a lover. From what she knew of him, she was almost sure that he would be sure, slow and calculated. Everything he’d do would be to ensure her pleasure, which she certainly wouldn’t be opposed to, but…

She wasn’t sure if that’s what she wanted anymore, not when she knew how amazing it could be to be with someone who was completely unleashed, who was frenzied as he tried to bring her to release, and—

Balthazar said something and Nesta was completely lost in her thoughts. She cleared her throat, grateful he couldn’t see the blush on her cheeks as she said, “I’m sorry, I was out of it for a moment.”

He chuckled quietly. “It’s okay. I asked if you might want to see a movie one night this week, if you had any free nights?”

Nesta thought about it for a moment. “I’m free on Thursday.”

“Thursday,” he repeated, and nodded. “Alright. Thursday. I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Perfect,” Nesta said, smiling as Balthazar pulled into her driveway.

He parked, got out, opened Nesta’s door, and walked her up to the front door. “Until Thursday, then.”

“Until Thursday,” she promised. He leaned forward and kissed her, softly.

It was a quick kiss, but it was nice.

They said their goodbyes then Nesta was opening the door, making her way inside.

The house was quiet, as she expected it to be at a quarter till eleven. After slipping off her shoes and setting her clutch near the door, Nesta was tiptoeing through the house, only stopping when she caught sight of Cassian sprawled across the couch.

She couldn’t help the smile that bloomed as she looked at him. He had one of Nyx’s stuffed animals clutched in his hand, halfway behind his head almost as if he was using it as a pillow. One of his legs hung off the side of the couch, his foot pressed flat against the floor, and Nesta couldn’t help the quiet chuckle as she stood there, looking at him. He looked so peaceful while he was asleep, his face relaxed and almost boyish like this. It was so at odds with the smirking mischief she usually saw there. She wondered if this is what he would have looked like if she would have asked him to stay in her bed the other night. Shaking her head, Nesta quickly banished the thought, not wanting to detract from the almost perfect date she’d just had.

Glancing around the living room, she noticed that it was an absolute wreck. Toys were strewn everywhere, as if they’d been thrown as far as Nyx’s little hands could manage them, and a completely melted, but mostly empty bowl of ice cream sat on the coffee table. Unable to stop the quiet chuckle, she silently picked up Nyx’s toys, putting them back in the basket where they belonged. She also scooped up the remains of the bowl of ice cream and carried it into the kitchen.

She turned the water on a low stream and was rinsing out the bowl when she heard a sleepy voice behind her.

“You’re home early.”

The rasp in his voice made her knees weak.

She looked over her shoulder to find Cassian leaning against the doorframe, his eyelids half fallen, one hand scratching the back of his neck.

Nesta chuckled. “Early? Must not be too early if you’re drooling all over the couch cushions.”

Cassian huffed a laugh as he came up behind her. “You don’t have to do that. I was planning on cleaning it.”

“No big deal,” she said, placing it in the dishwasher. “I’m pretty awake, thought I’d take care of a few things anyway.”

Cassian nodded as he leaned back against the island. “So…”

Nesta turned and crossed her arms as she leaned back against the counter. “So.”

“Did you have fun with Doctor Wonderful?” Cassian asked.

“I did,” she said, leaving it at that.

He waited for a moment, but when it was clear that that was all she was going to give him, he asked, “Yet you’re home before midnight and are wide awake enough to clean up after me and the baby?”

Nesta knew what he was asking, what he was insinuating, without voicing the words.

Why didn’t you go home with him?

“It would seem so,” she replied, a hand reaching up okay with the charm dangling from her necklace.

Cassian’s eyes tracked each motion as the charm zipped back and forth along the chain. His tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip and he nodded. “Well, I’m glad you had a good time.”

She wasn’t sure if she was waiting for him to say something else, but when he abruptly turned and headed for the stairs, she blurted, “How was your night?”

Pausing, Cassian turned back to look at her. He laughed quietly, and said, “My night doesn’t matter, Nes. Just as long as you had fun. Goodnight.”

He didn’t give her a second to reply as he turned the corner and she heard his footsteps thumping up the stairs. A moment later, his door closed.

Nesta spent far too long thinking about his words after he left.

Just as long as you had fun.

Why did such kind, simple words bother her so much?

#snacmc lawki #snacmc collabs #snelbz tacmc collab #lawki #life as we know it #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

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theright-sideofme · 4 years

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Feeling. J. Wooyoung

Wooyoung x fem!reader College au!, Soulmate au! WC: 4.9k Summary: You were one of the few who actually had a soulmate, shame you though the whole idea of love was artificial. Warnings: mentions of panic attack, language,

*12 years ago*

“Y/n got her soulmate mark!” Yeosang, your best friend shouted to the rest of the class a few seconds after the heart shaped scar bloomed on your skin; a moment you would never forget. The whole class ran over to you, shoving one another to see the mark that had just appeared on your skin. You were the first kid in your class to get a soulmate mark, so to say everyone was excited was an understatement.

“A heart? What’s a heart mean?” asked Mingi, another boy in your class. “Love” Yeosang said in a ‘duh’ tone that made you giggle. “Actually, it means Y/n will be able to feel what her soulmate feels, and they’ll be able to feel what she feels.” Your teacher explained, earning a chorus of ‘oh’s’ from you and your classmates. After everyone got a look at your mark your teacher was quick to get everyone back in their seats to resume class. You looked down at your wrist, a smile coming to your face as your heart swelled, “I have a soulmate” you whispered happily to yourself.

*Present*

You let out a sigh as you quickly cover up your soulmate mark with multiple bracelets, not wanting to look at it any longer. The day you found out you were one of the few who had a soulmate, you couldn’t have been more happy, but as you grew up, you realized your soulmate mark came with the watching eyes of everyone who saw it.

Soulmates were a bit of a rare occurrence, so when people saw anyone with a soulmate mark it grabbed their attention. Whether people were jealous or just curious about the phenomenon, everyone you had ever met only care about the stupid mark on your wrist. The only people who didn’t care were your best friends, Yeosang and Mingi. They both had marks of their own, but unlike you, they didn’t mind the prying eyes, the only thing they cared about was finding their soulmate.

“You can’t hide it forever you know,” Yeosang teased as he walked into you room, not even bothering to knock. “I can try” you huffed back in response. “What happens when you meet your soulmate, are you still gonna hide it” “probably” “dude seriously?”

Normally, when people find their soulmate, they proudly put themselves on display: showing off their mark, being overly affectionate in public, and over all just sucking up any attention they could get. It was disgusting.

“Yeah, seriously,” you stated. “I wouldn’t like that if I was your soulmate, I’d wanna show off our bond.” Yeosang stated, making you roll your eyes. Before you could respond with some witty comeback, a sudden wave of sadness hit you like a truck. Tears welled up in your eyes for god knows what reason and you felt like you had a lump the size of a baseball in your throat, it was awful. “What- whoah, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you upset- no no no don’t cry” Yeosang said frantically as he tried to calm you down. You tried to explain that it wasn’t him, but the only thing that left your mouth was a sob.

“Heyy- What the hell did you do” Mingi said as he walked into your apartment, quickly rushing to your side and pulling you into his arms. “I didn’t do anything-” “of course you did something, it’s you” “Hey-” “shut up, please” you managed to say through sobs.

As much as you hated your soulmate bond, you hated that your soulmate was feeling like this even more. It made you wonder what happened and if they were okay, if someone was with them to help them.

After about five minutes of you sobbing, you finally calmed down enough to explain what happened. “Ah your soulmate bond! I thought you really were upset with me” “good” you sniffled, “maybe this will teach you to stay out of my business” “hmm” Yeosang pretended to be deep in thought before tackling you, “nah I’m good.” “Group hug!” Mingi shouted before pulling both you and Yeosang into his arms.

For the rest of the day you had this lingering sadness and the lump in your throat never went away. You never really gave much thought to your soulmate before, but today you just couldn’t stop your mind from wandering. There was this urge to find them and hold them and reassure them that everything would be okay. You tried pushing those thoughts away, you didn’t even want a soulmate, so why were you so concerned? You tried to convince yourself it was just because you were a nice person, but there was a deeper reason and you could feel it, no matter how hard you tried to deny it.

You now sat at one of your favorite cafes with Mingi and Yeosang. You had went there to study, but no one was studying. Mingi was trying to balance a spoon on his nose, Yeosang was making sure Mingi would fail at that task, and you were recording all of it. Soft giggles left your mouth as Yeosang pushed Mingi for the third time, making the spoon fall to the ground. “Dude, come on-” Mingi pouted, shoving Yeosang back. “-I almost had it!” “Yeah I know, that’s the point” Mingi picked up the spoon from the ground and threw it a Yeosang, hitting him right in the forehead. You let out a loud laugh, all but snorting at the look on Yeosang’s face. The two bickered like two little kids for a while, giving you a front row seat to another one of their entertaining arguments. You were so distracted by your two best friends that you didn’t even realize the lump in your throat was gone.

Wooyoung lied in bed, a small smile on his face as he felt the urge to laugh. His soulmate was happy. He had been hurting all day, and he could only imagine what that did to his soulmate, so feeling them feel so care free- it made him happy. All Wooyoung ever wanted for his soulmate was for them to be happy, and he couldn’t stand when he would feel you hurt. He found it funny how quickly you would get annoyed or frustrated, he honestly just couldn’t wait to meet you.

After a while of just enjoying feeling okay, he looked over and saw it was actually getting pretty late and he had an 8am class tomorrow. He had already skipped class today, he couldn’t skip tomorrow too. So he quickly got ready for bed, slowly falling asleep with a warm feeling in his chest and a smile on his face.

“Feeling better” San asked as he plopped his stuff down next to Wooyoung. They had both shown up to class early, which was weird for the two who were normally the last ones into their classes. “Yeah, I’ll be good man” “that’s good, because we’re parting tonight.” San excitedly as he took his seat next to Wooyoung. Wooyoung had been down for the past few days and yesterday was the tipping point, San just wanted him to go out and let loose.

Wooyoung let a chuckle slip past his lips as he shook his head. “I don’t feel like going to another frat party-” “well it’s not a frat party because we’re throwing the party- just come on man” San whined as he all but begged his friend. “I’ll think about it.” Wooyoung sighed. He pulled out his laptop and textbook, getting ready for class when he heard the door get busted open. Everyone turned to the door to see two guys scrambling to stand up, and a girl, trying to get away from the two as quick as possible.

“You started it- hey, don’t run away from us!” The taller of the two shouted at the girl as she rushed to get a seat. She pretended like she didn’t hear them and sat two rows in front of San and Wooyoung. The two boys were quick to sit next to her, the shorter boy wrapping his arm around the girl as the taller one sat on her lap. “You two are so embarrassing- get off.” The girl whined as she tried to pry herself away from the two.

Wooyoung watched in amusement, they were definitely going to make this new semester interesting. He seem couldn’t pull his attention away from the trio, more specifically, the girl. She was beautiful, her smile was enchanting and her laughter made his heart swell, she was the type of girl people wrote songs about.

San noticed his friends staring and smiled. Wooyoung had always been faithful to a soulmate he had never met. He never had other relationships and he never gave into crushes he deemed “small” and “silly” all because he had a soulmate. Now here he was, ogling over a girl he didn’t know.

“Why don’t you go talk to her” San suggested, making Wooyoung snap out of his gaze. “Huh, why?” “because you think she’s cute” “I have a soulmate” “and you're not gonna know how to treat them if you’ve never been in a relationship” “then I learn with them” “what makes you think your soulmate's never dated anyone before?” Wooyoung had never considered that, but why would his soulmate date someone else if they knew they would end up with him- their soulmate. Wooyoung shook his head, trying to get rid of the jealous feeling that rose in his chest. He had no right to be jealous; he tried to reason to himself, but he couldn’t help it.

San saw him overthinking and sighed, “look, you’re just gonna have a nice friendly conversation with her, you’ll be fine.” Wooyoung thought for a moment, and San was right, he was just going to talk to her, nothing else. “Fine.”

After class you, Mingi, and Yeosang gathered your things and got ready to leave. “Be honest, the professor was totally checking me out, right?” You froze, giving Mingi an incredulous look before remembering, “It’s Mingi.” So with a small giggle you nodded, deciding to entertain his delusions. “Yeah Min, She was totally checking you” “I sense sarcasm; I will ignore.” Both you and Yeosang laughed as you continued to pack up, shaking your head at you crazy friend.

“Uh hey” the three of you snapped your heads up and saw two rather attractive guys standing in front of you. One had pink hair and cat like eyes that would probably be scary if he wasn't smiling. The other guy- he was breathtaking. He had jet black hair and the most enchanting eyes- whoa. “Um, hi” you replied, silently wondering if your heart speeding up was you or your soulmate.

“We’re throwing a party tonight and you guys seem… fun, so we were wondering if you wanted to come?” The one with black hair asked as he shot you a smile. Okay so the heart thing was definitely you, got it. You took a deep breath and looked back at your friends, who were already looking at you with puppy dog eyes. They knew you didn’t like parties, but they loved parties, and loved to make new friends. Mingi even grabbed onto your hand like a toddler and pouted out his lip. Letting out a sigh, you turned back to the two boys and nodded, “we’ll be there-” “yes!” The two boys behind you cheered, making you try to hold in a laugh, “um, I can give you my number and you could text me the address?” “yeah, sounds good.” The two of you quickly exchanged numbers and then the five of your exited the class before parting ways.

“They were cute” Mingi sighs as he looks dreamily into the distance. “Yeah, and one of them was totally checking out Y/n” “Ha, I beg your pardon?” Yeosang smirks as he pulls you in closer. “Come on Y/n, don’t tell me you're blind? The dude you gave your number to was totally checking you out” “well it doesn’t matter” you say simply, trying to ignore the feeling of heat rising to your cheeks. Was he really checking you out?

“You know, for someone who rejects the idea of her soulmate so much, you’ve been awfully loyal to them.” Yeosang points out, “huh?” “You’ve never been in a relationship, you never entertained anyone who had romantic feelings for you, hell you even stepped on Nicks foot when he asked you out” “yeah but Nick was a dick” Mingi interjected.

Okay, so maybe it was true you’ve never tried to pursue a romantic relationship with anyone, but you didn’t think that had anything to do with your soulmate. You had rejected the idea of love a long time ago. Nowadays, a relationship was another accessory everyone wanted to show off, and you didn’t want to feel like a human handbag. People who found their soulmates often just assumed they would work out just because they were soulmates, they didn’t try to make the whole process of falling in love special, they just flaunted their soulmate marks and relationships. You didn’t want to end up like that, ever.

The party had been going on for about an hour in Wooyoung, San, Jongho, and Yunho’s shared apartment and was now filled with people, most of which Wooyoung didn’t even know. Sure, Wooyoung was a social butterfly and had probably talked to almost everyone there, but that didn’t mean he knew them or even their names. Wooyoung lets out a sigh, leaning up against the wall as he sips his drink quietly. The only person Wooyoung actually wanted to see right now was you, but you were nowhere to be found.

“Hey, this is your party, right?” Some girl asks as she comes up to Wooyoung. “My roommates party, but yeah sure” “well it’s really great” she said cheerily as she looks up at him with a bright smile. Wooyoung nods, truly uninterested in what the girl had to say. “Mhm, it’s super” the girl giggles, leaning closer to Wooyoung who doesn’t even spare her a glance. “You seem to be the only one not having fun.” She says with a pout, and Wooyoung is about ready to just start ignoring her, but then he sees you walk in the room with your friends. He felt relief and excitement wash over him when his eyes landed on you “Excuse me.” Was all Wooyoung said to the girl as he quickly made his way over to you.

“You made it” Wooyoung cheers as he approaches the three of you. You smile and nod, looking around the crowded apartment for a brief moment, how do so many people fit in this small ass place, you wonder. Yeosang places a hand on your shoulder before telling you he’s gonna go get you guys some drinks and you nod. Wooyoung directs him to the kitchen and he ends up taking Mingi with him, leaving you and Wooyoung alone, well as alone as you can be in a crowded room.

“I didn’t think you’d come” “I thought about it, trust me” you only half joked, parties really weren’t your thing. “Well I’m glad you did, my night just got a whole lot better” he said as he gave you a sweet smile. You could’ve swore your heart skipped a beat, your eyes widening slightly at his comment. Wow this boy was smooth. “I’m sure your night was just fine without me” you teased as you tried to play off your mini panic. “Sure, it was fine, but now it’s better.” You just started at him, trying to push your butterflies deep, deep down. What the heck was up with this guy and why were you so affected by him?

Wooyoung smiled at your reaction, trying to push his own butterflies to the side, but he really couldn’t, not when you were staring at him all cutely. He had to fight back the urge to pinch your cheeks, crossing his arms to help him out a bit. He was just as confused as you were, he had never felt so… interested by anyone like this before, it made his heart pound in his chest.

You quickly averted your gaze to try and stop the heat spreading to your cheeks, and that’s when you noticed your two friends had abandoned you for some guys from your psychology class, Hongjoong and Seonghwa you think their names are. “Well that’s rude” “you mumbled under your breath, and Wooyoung heard you, following your gaze before laughing. “Come on, let’s get you a drink,” he said. He placed his hand on the small of your back and you quickly jumped away, feeling like you had been shocked.

The two of you stared at each other. Did he feel it too? Wooyoung, out of curiosity, looked down at your wrist, only to see it covered with a copious amount of bracelets. You too, looked at his wrist and you felt the urge to vomit when you saw the same little heart scar that you had stared at every day since you were nine on his wrist. It had to be a coincidence, right? It didn’t matter, you suddenly felt hot, like someone had set you on fire and your breathing became uneven and heavy, you had to get out of there. Quickly turning on your heels, you rushed out of the apartment, rushing down the stairs to get as far away as you could.

Wooyoung was hot on your heels though, following behind you as soon as you left. “Y/n, Y/n slow down” Wooyoung called after you. The look on your face before you ran out had him so worried. Your eyes were wide, mouth slightly agape as your breathing started to pick up, he just wanted to know you were okay.

After running for a while, the thoughts in your head running rampant, you became light headed. You could barely stand up straight anymore, scraping both your palms and knees as you fell to the sidewalk. Wooyoung felt his heart drop when you fell and rushed to your side as quickly as he could. “Hey Y/n, you okay, just breath. In and out like this, can you do that?” “N-no- I- too much” “Y/n, hey Y/n look at me.” Wooyoung cupped your face, forcing you to look at him as he helped you calm down.

He knew then that you were his soulmate, because he could feel all of it, the light headedness, the heart racing, the fear that had built up in the pit of his stomach, he knew. So once you were calm and in his arms, he let out a shaky sigh, holding you a bit tighter as he looked down at you. He had dreamed about meeting his soulmate for so long, never did he imagine that his soulmate would get a panic attack upon finding out. All he wanted was for you to feel safe and happy around him, not scared and vulnerable.

The two of you sat there in silence on the side of the sidewalk for about 30 minutes, he still held you in his arms and you allowed him, feeling an odd sense of comfort from his hold. The two of you would get strange looks from passerbyers but you didn’t care, not right now.

“Thank you” were the first words out of your mouth as you pulled away to look at him. Wooyoung just nodded, keeping his hand on your back, rubbing it gently as if to reassure you. “I should go home” you said quietly as you stood up, “let me walk you” “you don’t-” “I’m not letting you walk alone at night.” His voice was gentle, but his tone also told you there was no room for argument, he was going to make sure you got home safe.

The entire walk was silent, Wooyoung was trying to figure out what to say to you. How was he meant to start a conversation with his soulmate who seemed so freaked out about having a soulmate? Wooyoung wanted to let out a loud groan of frustration and fall to the floor like a toddler throwing a fit, but he didn’t. Instead he turned to look over at you, letting a small sigh fall from his lips. “Can I ask you something?” Wooyoung finally speaks, making you stop to look at him. You nod, having a feeling you knew what he was going to ask. “Why are you so afraid” “I’m not” he gave you an unamused look before holding up his wrist. “I can feel what you feel, remember?” Damn this stupid fucking bond, you mentally cursed. You know he deserved an answer, he was your soulmate and was equally affected by whatever was going on in your life as you were, but you didn’t know him, you didn’t feel comfortable opening up to him, not yet. “Will you be mad if I tell you I can’t tell you” “can’t or won’t” “won’t” you answered truthfully. Wooyoung let out a soft sigh before shaking his head, “I won’t be mad, if you're not comfortable I’m not going to push you-” There was a beat of silence as he ran his hand through his hair as he tried to calm down his frustration. “Will you tell me eventually?” “I don’t know… I hope so” you answer truthfully. That seems to be enough for Wooyoung as he nods and takes your hand in his, motioning for you to lead the way.

It had been two days since the party and you hadn’t seen Wooyoung since, and for some reason, it was killing you. You felt like a total sellout, just a week ago you were perfectly content with never meeting your soulmate, barely giving the idea a thought, but now? Now you felt like you needed to see him. You had heard about this from other people with the soulmate mark, they say that once you meet your soulmate, all you want is to be around them, you thought that was utter bull shit, until now.

Yeosang and Mingi still didn’t know, and you weren’t about to tell them. You knew that once you did they would tell you how much of an idiot you were being. All you had to do was talk to him, get to know him and then maybe explain why you think soulmates are overrated, but you were scared that you would break around him, and give into the system you despised.

“It’s been two days, you need to get out of bed” Yeosang stated as he yanked your covers off you. “What even happened, why are you so moppy” Mingi asked as he helped Yeosang get you to stand. “Nothing” you mumbled, allowing them to push you into the bathroom so you could brush your teeth and get ready for class. “Come on Y/n, we’re not dumb, we know what’s going on.” You turned to Yeosang with wide eyes, he knew? How? “You’ve done nothing but stare at your soulmate mark for the past two day. So…” “so what” you replied, quickly turning back around to rinse out your mouth. “Who is it bitch” Mingi shouted as he turned you around to look at him. “No one, stop being weird” you tried to dismiss them and walk out but Yeosang blocked the door, staring straight into your eyes. “Who is it” “Who is it” they asked one after another, over and over again until they were basically chanting it in your ear. “Stop it! It’s Wooyoung, god it’s Wooyoung you freaks!” You shouted, quickly pushing past them to go back into your room.

“Wooyoung! The guy who invited us to that party?” Mingi exclaims with wide eyes. “Why didn’t you tell us” “because I knew you guys were going to freak out” “obviously! You found your soulmate that’s huge!” You just shook your head, he didn’t get it, after all these years he still didn’t understand. “Yeosang, I don’t want a soulmate” “no you don’t want an artificial, showy love” “wha-” “Y/n, for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been nothing but closed off and reserved when it comes to the idea of soulmate, but I see you when you see couples, real couples walk down the street, or when you watch those cheesy rom coms or dramas. You want to be loved” Yeosang all but shouts at you. He loves you and he wants nothing but the best for you, but sometimes you could be so stubborn. “You’re afraid of your soulmate using you and your relationship for attention” “I- shut up” you pout, you hate how he knows you so well, it’s sickening.

Yeosang chuckles and takes a seat next to you on your bed, “so, it looks like you have two options, keep pretending that love is gross and disgusting and is the root of all evil, or you can share your concerns to Wooyoung and hope he understands” “what if he doesn’t?” Your voice is so small you ask the question, because you were terrified he wouldn’t, that the person you were meant to be with for the rest of your life would ignore your worries and brush them and you off. “Then me and Mingi will go have a little talk with him and you’ll never have to see him again” Mingi nods rapidly, showing you that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you, neither of them would. “You guys suck, you know that'' you tease, allowing Yeosang to pull you into a hug. He hums in response, pulling you closer to ease your anxiety.

You stood in front of Wooyoung’s apartment, eyes trained on the door as you worked up the courage to knock. Which was proving to be a lot harder than you thought. You bring your hand up to the door, fist ready to knock, but you don’t you just stand there- until the door opens. You pull your hand back and step back quickly, you weren’t expecting anyone to open the door. San smiles at you, “you can go in, his room is the last door on the right” “thank you” you mumbled, quietly slipping in as San leaves, probably to attend one of his classes.

Knocking on Wooyoung’s door is a lot easier than knocking on the front door. “Go away” sounds tired and it hurts to think you caused that. “I can’t do that Wooyoung” you respond. In no time at all he’s standing in front of you with wide eyes. His hair is a bit messy and his shirt is on backwards, but he still managed to look so god damn good. Pushing that thought aside, you give him a weak smile, and he returns it, stepping out and closing his door. “I would say let’s talk in my rooms but it’s a bit of a mess right now” you giggle, nodding as you follow him to the living room.

“I’m sorry” is the first thing out of your mouth, “for what?” He seems genuinely confused. Wooyoung didn’t think you did anything wrong, he knew you needed space, it was just giving you that space was harder than he thought. “Y/n you have nothing to be sorry for” he reassures, gently rubbing your knee.You look at him and suddenly your fears of him not understanding melt away, in the short time you knew him, he’s probably the most understanding man you had ever met. He was sweet and kind and caring, how could you think he wouldn’t understand.

So you tell him everything, from how you feel that soulmate love feels fake, artificial, that no one tries, to your fear that he might use you as a way to get attention from others. And He listens, he listens to it all, never once interrupting you, encouraging you to take your time when you struggle to get the words out. He even wiped your tears when you started crying, hell he even started crying himself.

“Y/n-” He speaks up after you finish. He takes your hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze, “-I know my words won’t be enough to reassure you, so I’ll show you” he smiles. When you give him a confused look he smiles even harder, “I will show you that love isn’t superficial and I’ll show you that I will never use you, because I would never want to hurt you Y/n.” He speaks with so much sincerity that it overwhelms you, causing tears to effortlessly fall from your eyes. “All I have ever wanted was for my soulmate to be happy, and if I can make you happy, I will” Your body reacts before your brain can and you're immediately on him, hugging him so tightly as you let your happy tears flow freely. You don’t say anything, and neither does he, but you don’t have to, because both of you know that everything will be alright, as long as you’re together.

“Awww!” Wooyoung doesn’t let go of you as the two of you turn to see the owner of the voice. “Yun, you have terrible timing dude” Wooyoung grumbles to his roommate Yunho. “I’m sorry but that was just so sweet-” “get out” Wooyoung whined as he pulled you closer, making you laugh. Yunho mocks Wooyoung before giving you a joking bow, “it was nice to meet you Y/n” he says as he playfully winks. Wooyoung chases his friend out of the room before returning back to you. “Movie?” He questions and you nod, smiling up at him, “a movie sounds nice.”

#jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung au #soulmate au #soulmate #ateez au #ateez fanfic #ateez soulmate au #kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop au #kpop soulmate au

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kyberconfessions · 3 years

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No Matter Where You Go, I Will Find You. Part 4

Hello All! Sorry for the delay! My Hubby and I have had a busy month of July and I wasn’t able to keep to my schedule like I wanted too. Sorry about that. From Baseball games to Comic-Cons to Disney trips, we’ve been stupid busy. I am working furiously on the other chapters and hope to at least have some words on Cody soon! Y’all, not going to lie, the fact that there has been ZERO mention of him on The Bad Batch is killing me.

As Always:

This will eventually be a 18+ older fic and deals with anxiety, death, sex, PTSD, murder, loss, found family, Order 66, and coming to terms. This is not just a fluff fic. It will very much be dealing with very dark and hard themes, so please, if that is something that can be too hard for you, don’t read.

Pairings: Rex x Reader x Cody (polyamory) I should say this is NOT a Rex x Cody fic. There will be ZERO Clonecest on this blog or story. Reader is a consensual relationship with Rex and with Cody. Yes they share, yes they will eventually have sex together, but Cody and Rex are NOT in a relationship nor will they be intimate.

Rating: 18+

TW: Death, Murder, infanticide, death of the Jedi, PTSD, Loss, Anxiety, eating disorders, sleep disorders, Order 66. I will add other things as I think about them

Part 4: It’s You.

You waited with your back to the door on Hondo's ship; another one was docked right outside, carrying the crew that had something either of you wanted. You took a deep breath, adjusting your blaster in your thigh holster and checking over your clothes before putting on your helmet. The base of it was a black Ubese helmet, edged with black dyed bantha hair and painted to resemble a Kaleesh skull in white. The edges of the white skull were rimmed in a dark red and the faux eyes were painted an electric green, almost making them glow.The breather of the helmet was pointed down, tapering at the end and etched with designs reminiscent of a certain Kel Dor. Twin points also came down from the sides, once again resembling a Kel Dor breather, but painted to look like the fangs of the Kaleesh skull. When you wore it, you were an incredibly fearsome sight to behold.

Hondo had stepped out of the cockpit while brushing off his clothes, but when he saw you he went on and on in a poetic manner making you snort behind your mask, "Pretty Lady must you put on that horrid thing? How am I supposed to gaze upon your beautiful Visage? How am I to write songs of your shiny eyes if you insist on covering them? How am I to chant loudly into the heavens about the glory of your smile when all I see is that ugly thing staring back at me?"

The sound that came out of the modulator was a loud crack of static. It wasn't lost on him though, and he waggled his brow at you, knowing he made you laugh.

"Hondo, one of these days I'm going to launch you out of an airlock. Then you'll be Wild Space's problem."

He laughed loudly, but before he could give a retort, the door-lock opened and the crew from the other ship began to board.

Immediately the hair on your neck stood up and your hackles raised. It was time to go into heartless bounty hunter mode, another mask that became easier and easier for you to put on.

Hondo noticed your posture change and went to greet whoever had come aboard, stepping in front of your turned back. Whether it was to hide his best and most terrifying asset or to put space between you and them for your sake, you never knew. You liked to think it was his way of still protecting you, even after all these years. It probably was.

"My friends! My friends! So good to see you again! Ezra Bridger! It has been too long!"

You heard the cacophony of voices greeting him in a less than enthusiastic excitement. If these people were your friends, you would have laughed again. But you didn't have friends. From the sound of it, there were four people behind you. Nothing difficult to take down, but not something you should be careless with. There was something off about one of them though, you couldn’t put your finger on it, but they were...familiar.

"Allow me for introductions! This tall, imposing creature behind me is my associate, bodyguard, smuggler, chief pilot, chief mechanic, artistic muse, platonic soulmate, oldest friend, and beautifully deadly bounty hunter, all rolled into one. And this band of colorful characters are the crew of the infamous Ghost!" Hondo waved his hands in a grandiose manner between the group and your back; this was a well rehearsed situation that you both had done several times, though for whatever reason, he decided to over exaggerate your titles. Normally he would do the talking and you would scare the clientele. And if you had too, if they had something that you knew belonged to them, you'd kill them. Nothing would keep you from the last remnants of the ones you loved and lost.

"Ahh, Hondo? Does your associate have a name? Or talk? Are they even awake? Are they just going to stand there?" You heard a boy's voice, a cockiness only found in the young lacing every word.

"Ezra." A woman, probably someone important, chastised the boy.

You waited for Hondo's signal for you to turn, but the door opened once more and you heard one more set of boots and something soft, furry, stepping across the steel. A voice spoke. A Lassat. Dangerous creatures, you had seen a few when you were still a young Padawan with your old Master. Before the war. Before they died. Back when your biggest concern was the eventual Trials. You knew a fight wasn't going to be easy and you hated the idea of killing an already dying race. But you would if you had too.

The Lassat male was arguing with someone about something, but you weren't paying attention.

Hondo touched your shoulder softly, your signal to turn. He had spent the time making pleasantries and lulling them into a false sense of comfort, probably. He could have been talking about the weather on Jakku for all you cared. You were more concerned about making sure the straps on your holsters were open, giving you easy access to draw.

Slowly you moved, letting them see just how dangerous you were, how in control of your body you were, how much they should fear the creature behind the helmet. But, you halted mid spin.

All of the blood drained from your face, your mouth went dry, your throat tightened up, and you were overcome with such anger and gut wrenching sorrow you thought you would snap.

The man that walked in with the Lessat was wearing HIS armor. The armor you had spent 15 years looking for.

You blanked.

Somewhere there was yelling and cries to stop, but you couldn't make it out. Your head was spinning and it felt like there was cotton in your ears and as tunnel vision took over, everything knocked your senses for a loop. You didn’t realize you were doing it, but you grabbed both your blasters, turned fully, and pointed them at the man. Half the crew jumped out of the way, the others pointed their weapons at you, and Hondo tried to reason with both sides, standing with his back to you while the man had his own blasters trained on your head. Hondo quickly got out of the way of the four barrels, still trying to diffuse the situation. You couldn't understand what he was saying, everything sounded so dull and muted.

No, wait. Those weren't just any blasters. You would know those DC-17s anywhere.

"HOW DARE YOU!"

Someone was screaming. You couldn’t tell who it was or where it was coming from. It was garbled and cracking, a mechanical sound. It hurt your head. You just wanted everything to stop, just for a moment. But the world kept spinning and you felt like you were going to pass out any moment. You just wanted everything to be quiet, you needed to think, you just wanted a moment to figure out what was going on. Why was it so loud? Why did everything hurt? You just wanted everyone to just be still. Just be still, if only for a second.

You could feel your breathing pick up, that tightening fear in your chest, that ache that gripped your heart and threatened to pull it from your body. ‘Just be quiet, please, please, be quiet. I can’t...I need to think, I need to think..’

"HOW DARE YOU WEAR HIS HELM!” More screaming, “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO HE WAS?! DO YOU?! HOW DARE YOU WEAR HIS ARMOR AS YOUR OWN! HOW DARE YOU STAND THERE AND KNOW NOTHING OF HIM!" Maker, the screaming was coming from you. You were yelling at him, venomous spit falling from your mouth, words meant to shame and kill. Your blasters were trained on his chest, fingers laying on the triggers.

"TAKE IT OFF OR I WILL RIP IT FROM YOUR BROKEN CORPSE!"

You could feel something wet on your cheeks but you didn't know what it was or where it came from. Did this man kill Rex?! Did he rip his beloved armor from his broken body? Did he leave him to rot in some cursed field? Or did he just take it from his already forgotten skeleton? Your heart beat a mile a minute, you were sweating and your whole body shook in anger, but your hands never wavered, blasters trained perfectly on the man. How dare this cretin dishonor Rex, dishonor his memory.

"YOU WILL NEVER INSULT HIS MEMORY AGAIN! TAKE IT OFF!!"

You were panting and your modulator was straining under the volume of your voice.

No one lowered their weapons. No one spoke. No one moved a muscle. All that could be heard were your wheezing sobs through the helm.

There was a beat. And then another. And then the man did something unexpected.

You just knew you were going to have to kill everyone. You just knew you were going to peel bloodied, beloved armor from some backwater nothing.

But when he slowly lowered his arms, holstering the DC-17s, you faltered. Was he giving up so easily? Perhaps he didn't want bloodshed after all. Good. But it didn't make you lower yours. Nor did it make the others lower theirs.

Slowly, like he was trying to coax a scared lothcat, the man raised his open hands to the old helm covered in hatch marks with jaig eyes and pulled it off.

First you saw weathered skin tanned from the sun, a white beard trimmed nicely, then a strong nose and finally golden eyes, eyes you had seen a million times before. Eyes that haunted you every time you went to sleep. Eyes you thought you would never see again.

When he had taken the helm completely off and tucked it under his arm, he spoke. And everything inside of you shattered.

"My name is Rex. Captain of 501st regiment in the Grand Army of the Republic. This is my armor that was issued to me almost 20 years ago. I don't know who you think I am, but I can assure you, this is my armor."

The others watched you, weapons trained. No one moved, no one spoke, no one breathed. You, on the other hand, felt everything rushing back at you full force. When he spoke, his voice was a punch to your gut, knocking the wind out of you, causing you to hyperventilate. Your blasters, still trained on him, began to shake violently in your hands.

You were panting and your eyes blurred from all of the new tears. Panic rose high in your throat, cutting off your breathing. It can’t be. How could it be? He died. The Empire recorded him dying after Mandalore. You were there, you saw the absolute destruction. No one survived that.

Involuntarily you dropped your weapons and they clattered loudly to the durasteel ground, but your arms were still stretched out, still holding onto phantom guns.

You inhaled sharply, your modulator cracking in a loud hiss. Slowly, trying to control the tremors that wracked your body, you moved your hands to your own helm and unlatched the buckles on the sides. There was another hiss as the airtight seals released the pressure and vented.

"What's going on..." the young boy started. "Hush, Ezra Bridger." Hondo cut him off, silencing him with a hand on his shoulder as you and Rex stared one another down.

You lifted your helm up and then let it fall to the floor, a loud clank shaking the silence between you all.

Rex sucked in a breath and released it in a harsh shudder, his mouth hanging open. "Mesh'la," he whispered; he could feel his knees giving out, causing him to stumble forward and push his way through his crew.

His eyes were as wide as saucers and glistening. Fat, heavy tears tracked down his face and fell into his beard as he reached shaking hands out to you. He paused for a moment, afraid that if he touched you, you would disappear like every dream before. But carefully his hands gripped your face, gently turning it side to side, taking in the scars and faint crows feet and wisps of grey hairs you now sported. Your age and harsh life showed, but you were still just as beautiful, just as ageless, just as perfect as he remembered. Still the same eyes that he dreamed of every night.

You couldn’t breathe. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs and every nerve ending burned. You could hear your blood pumping in your ears, creating a painful rush like being thrown under the oceans. Every part of you felt like it was on fire. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t move. Slowly your shaking hands gripped his wrists and held him close. Your body tried to take a shuddering breath, but it only came out as a choked sob while you squeezed your eyes shut.

As the noise left you, Rex pulled you close, his mouth over taking yours in a passionate kiss, full of tongue and teeth. Your hands left his wrists and wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as he continued to hold your face.

"Rex. I thought....I thought you were...Rex," you whispered into his lips between kisses.

"I searched for you, Cyare. I looked everywhere. I thought you died. I thought Cody.."

Your breath hitched at his name, making Rex pull you impossibly closer. You both stood there, wrapped in eachothers arms, crying, kissing, whispering love to one another, completely oblivious to the others.

You weren't sure if your knees failed you, or if it were his, but one of you fell to the floor, taking the other with them, still wrapped in each other, crying and holding on for dear life.

The Twi'lek woman quietly ushered the others, a man and a Mandalorian girl, along with the boy and Lessat, out. Hondo followed behind, a smug smile on his face, ridiculously proud of himself, giving you both much needed privacy.

#Rex x Reader #Rex #Cody #Cody x Reader #Rex x Reader x Cody #Hondo x Reader Platonic #Hondo x Platonic!Reader #Rebels fic #clone wars fic #Poly #Jedi!Reader #No Matter Where You Go I Will Find You #Star Wars #Reader is an Ex-Jedi #Reader is now a Bounty Hunter #Big reveal #finally meeting Rex

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trulycertain · 4 years

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I love that in the show, they kept the comics thing of how much Matt buttons himself up around others. Comics Matt has relaxed a lot over the years and accepted that he is occasionally allowed to have fun outside the DD suit, but show Matt is newer to this.

For instance, while I guess it could be overdone, I really like the difference in how Cox portrays Matt tracking movement and sound - The Headtilt(TM) - when he’s in the suit vs out of it. He’s much, much more obvious about it when he’s in the mask. And I suppose it’s partly because he rarely has to focus his senses quite as much in his civilian persona, but it’s also significant that the few times he needs to listen closely and track someone as Matt Murdock, he makes excuses to be alone or disappear into a crowd or wear hoodies or scramble up to rooftops, so he won’t have to focus on keeping up appearances. He’s much less restrained about it when he’s in the suit, and it’s a much more visible process to others - but he’ll also pull it back in when he’s intimidating or reassuring people. I kind of hate the fact he has to keep such an important part of himself tucked away, but it’s also very in-character. And it’s just a nice little piece of attention to detail in the performance. I like how consistent it is.

And then there’s Matt’s shades being another mask motif, which I grew up reading in the comics and will always feel like, “yup, that’s my guy” characterisation to me. Sure, he likes them and knows he carries them off well (red lenses are a statement, and he’s clearly chosen to stick with them, which makes me happy), but the shades are mainly something Matt does to be around other people. As with a lot of real-world visually-impaired and NLP people, he probably got fed up of people being weird about a lack of eye contact, and whenever there's a scene where he's at his most relaxed or emotionally honest, he's usually out of them. They're a very solid, "Right, back to business" boundary for him. (In Mark Waid’s run in the comics, the only time I can think of when Matt went round without them in public, it was because he’d consciously decided to tell the world he was Daredevil, and was trying to make a point of being open and telling his villains, “Come at me.” And it did end up being too much stress, after a while. It was another persona he was putting on, something very out-there for him.)

There's one sort of sweet-but-sad, to my mind, scene where Matt's running over case precedent with Foggy and they're knackered and about to order takeout, and pretty much the minute Karen, who's a new hire they like but don't know well yet, comes in, Matt's sliding the glasses back on and changing his body language. It's just such a blatant example of "friends for ten years" easy intimacy vs. "not quite there yet," and Deborah Ann Woll's acting is lovely; you can tell Karen picks up on it and her brightness dulls a bit, but she's just glad to have friends at all. Heck, before that, there's the scene where she meets them the first time and Matt tells her to come back to his if she's afraid of sleeping at her apartment, he can take the couch and he'll look after her. And it's blatant. She asks him if he's always been blind, and in order to try and get her to level with them and make a connection, he lets her see his eyes and talks about his trauma - and then, "Now, can I ask you a question?" right back on.

He even dials down his humour and his anger - always, always his anger - round others, and plays mild-mannered. He may be dry, professional and thoughtful, but he isn’t mild. As mentioned, it’s interesting seeing how he is around Karen at the start of s1 vs at the end. And the guy who sort of raises an eyebrow but says nothing when a detective threatens to “beat the shit out of him”, or gently deflects with jokes about Foggy playing baseball when asked about the Devil, is not the same guy who attacks punching bags like they’ve hurt him personally and crosses a room in five flips instead of ten steps for the fun of it. Except he kind of really is. That dichotomy is part of why I’m so fond of him.

But while this can be useful, it has its costs. Aside from the casual ableism and dismissal he has to put up with on the regular, it also affects people closer to him. There’s basically everything with Karen in s2, but even earlier than that... When Matt beats down Fisk and talks about loving Hell’s Kitchen and what it deserves, he mentions “my family.” And sure, you can argue he means the people of the Kitchen, and/or Jack, those interpretations are both legit - but an episode or two before, Karen was hugging him and telling him, “You’re not alone. You’ve never been alone” and he and Foggy were agreeing to move forward. You’ve been shown him with his immediate family. (Heck, even Karen uses the words “my family” about Nelson & Murdock.) And he does that in the suit, so it’s a beautiful moment - but it also means that Karen and Foggy don’t see just how much he returns the sentiment. I’m going to assume they know, though. He does express it as himself, in those moments where he gets out of his own way and he’s truly stopped pretending he's someone else. And as this is Matt, those moments are rare gems.

#tru watches daredevil #matt murdock #netflix daredevil #daredevil #obviously feel free to correct me on blindness or comics or... any of this #i wrote a lot of it at six am #meta #ie me rambling #marvel

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vidavalor · 3 years

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Bucky’s dual-era dog tags in TFATWS (and when & where he decides to wear them) are giving me some SamBucky-related vibes...

...in addition to the just interesting stuff related to Bucky’s various identity issues. So let’s talk the dog tags.

First things first, these really do not seem like they’re Steve’s dog tags-- they’re Bucky’s own. Why? Look at the promo still below which is the best view I’ve seen of them in TFATWS. Notice that they are not of the same era. One of the dog tags is a WW2-era tag-- the darker, wider one is not only period-accurate for WW2, it’s identical to the ones Bucky was wearing during WW2 in the movie canon already, most visibly in the “let’s hear it for Captain America!” moment. The *other* dog tag Bucky is wearing in TFATWS, though, is of a more modern issue. It is the kind that would be made for soldiers now and over the last couple of decades. So, how does that mean that they’re Bucky’s and not just Steve’s and what does this have to do with Sam?

Dog tags are only meant to be separated off the chain in the case of death, as everyone probably knows. Soldiers wear two tags with the same information on them into battle so that one remains on them if they die and the other can be pulled off the chain as proof of a fallen soldier during battle, with the army then usually passing the single chain to next of kin. If Bucky were wearing a pair of WW2-era dog tags in TFATWS, I’d say it was more possible that he was wearing Steve’s tags because Steve didn’t actually have them on when he went into the ice so, somewhere, Steve’s pair of WW2-era dog tags exist as a set, still on the chain. They probably wound up in the Smithsonian at some point but back to Bucky-- his, based on the canon we know, would have been separated after the freight car.

Bucky was wearing his dog tags when he fell off the train car because he was at war. We know that the Russians found Bucky and then handed him back over to Zola. The Russians, to cover this up, would have taken one of Bucky’s dog tags and given it to the U.S. Army, claiming that they had found them washed up on the shore near where he fell or something. What did the U.S. Army do then? They didn’t know what Zola had done to Bucky beforehand that would enable him to survive the fall so they wouldn’t think to question the Russians on this-- they’d just be like hey, thanks for this and we’ll continue to do the same for you. They would have taken the dog tag and marked Bucky off as dead and then done the next thing, which is to give the dog tag to the soldier’s next of kin.

Bucky died during war time and everyone knew he and Steve had been friends before the war so whatever general got the dog tag probably just gave it to Steve. Steve *could* have given it to Bucky’s sister at some point-- and we know she exists in the MCU because Bucky briefly mentioned her in TFATWS but we don’t know if he’s gone to see her yet-- but we also have no idea what she’s like in the MCU or if Steve might have just decided to keep the dog tag for himself. Given the trauma Steve went through of witnessing Bucky’s death and them not finding Bucky’s body, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume that even if Steve was the one who told Rebecca about Bucky’s death and all that, that he kept Bucky’s dog tag. The other one, that was on Bucky at the time when he was given back to Zola, was destroyed by Zola during him being brainwashed into The Winter Soldier.

So, maybe through seeing Rebecca but probably really through Steve, Bucky gets one of his WW2 era dog tags back. Given that he isn’t seen wearing dog tags again until TFATWS, it’s likely that Steve gave it back to Bucky sometime in the Endgame aftermath before Steve went back in time. Let’s unpack how Steve’s heart was in the right place but that was a bit of a loaded gift here...

Free from being brainwashed-- as free as he’s been *since* WW2 anyway-- Bucky is essentially handed by Steve the symbol of what he just can’t be anymore-- that guy that Steve used to know. He’s still somewhat that guy but he’s been through so much that he’s not going to ever go back. Steve is into going back-- back to the same girl, back to the same era, back to a time when things felt less confusing and safer to him, where things will hurt less. Bucky has always been the absolute opposite of this-- while Steve was always desperate to fit the mode of the model man of the WW2 era, Bucky-- a good-looking, able-bodied soldier who can hot-blooded American male with the best of them-- was never a man of his time, always a bit ahead of it. Steve is Captain America-- Bucky is Captain World of Tomorrow. He’s more realistic about what America is because as a guy putting on a show for the world to pass in the society that Steve worships, Bucky has a very different perspective on all of it than Steve did. (See also, obviously, why Bucky and Sam understand one another and are better for one another than either of them with Steve.) Bucky is touched that Steve had this and is trying to do something nice by giving it back to him but it’s the singular dog tag bearing ‘James Buchanan Barnes’ like it’s literally being his own next of kin at this point as Steve’s about to go back into time-- it’s being handed a reminder of the demise of his sense of self and his *literal almost actual death* right when he’s trying to figure out how he’s going to view himself and what he’s going to do in this world now that he’s going to stay in the present.

So, he’s not wearing it. He doesn’t really know what to do with it. He’s with Sam at the time (maybe not *with* Sam but I mean they’re sharing a lot of the same space, either at the Avengers compound or Sam’s apartment, in the whole Endgame aftermath time period but pre-TFATWS) and Sam sees it and Bucky tells him he’s putting it away because he can’t wear it. Steve was trying to do a nice thing but Bucky’s like I can’t wear one of these things, my old WW2 one-- it’d be like I was a walking corpse. Sam agrees. So, from here two things could have happened...

One is that Bucky could have made the decision to just get himself a modern secondary tag but keep in mind that Dr. Raynor actually had to clear Bucky for active duty and that wouldn’t have happened right away. More importantly, some military guys basically never take off their dog tags but we have evidence that Bucky used to actually *not* be like this so much. While he had them on during the war, much has been made (and should be made, for sure) about how Bucky’s wardrobe changes after his first encounter with Zola compared to when he first left for war. The Bucky in uniform on the double date with Steve is spiffy and spotless; the Bucky in the bar with Peggy and the Howlies is barely hanging on. The most major difference is how much he pushes his uniform away from his neck and stops wearing a hat-- some have theorized that Zola was trying an early version of the mind crown on Bucky before Steve found him, prompting Bucky to develop a trauma-induced need to have things away from his neck.

This actually doesn’t change that much after Civil War, when he’s free from his handlers and on the run. By necessity, there’s a baseball cap at times but he wears a lot of henleys and there’s not actually any necklaces or dog tags until TFATWS. So, what changes? The addition of the modern tag and his reclaiming of the idea of being a soldier. So, the two options for how Bucky got the modern dog tag are really either a) he went and had one made for himself or b) Sam gave it to him. Let’s look at why the former would be kind of a healthy choice for Bucky but why it’s probably not likely to be what happened.

One scene that stands out for me is the single scene in TFATWS where it’s really obvious that Bucky is *not* wearing the dog tags. They show up all over the place-- he has them on for basically the entire series. He’s even *sleeping* in them, waking up with them on during a nightmare where they’re prominent in the scene and then also in its contrasting scene, on the couch in Delacroix. So, the one scene we don’t see Bucky wearing them? His first therapy scene with Raynor.

It’s made pretty clear that while Bucky got a thing or two out of his time with Raynor, it’s not really because of Raynor herself, who is basically a terrible trauma therapist. It’s also clear that Bucky doesn’t trust her and for good reason. We see that he really shouldn’t-- she’s forcing him into rules he can’t actually live by instead of helping him find ways through those scenarios when they invitably pop up (“don’t hurt anyone” is a recipe for failure) and she’s treating a man violated in every way under the sun in a way that’s invasive. She’s monitoring his phone. She threatens his compliance by *bringing out a book that she’s writing his secrets in* like... this isn’t the healthiest scenario here. What we also see is that Bucky subtly rebels against her. He somehow got himself cleared for active duty by her so he’s been b.s.ing her. He is later seen with a smart phone he knows how to use at Zemo’s (and had to have something on which he was online dating profile perusing) but Raynor thinks he just owns an old flip phone. So, it’s something really interesting that this is the one scene where we can’t see the chain of his dog tags. Why? Why doesn’t he want Raynor to know about them?

Because he’s hiding what they mean to him. If he wore them in, he’d have to talk to her about them. The dog tags represent his real efforts to reconcile his identity and what he wants that to look like-- he’s vulnerable about them because they represent what little hope he has left. If Bucky had gone out and gotten that modern dog tag for himself and began wearing them, it’d be something healthy to share with Raynor. He’d want to show it off, all eager to show the doc the decision she’d see as healthy and let her analyze it with him. We know that Bucky is struggling to reconcile his identity-- it’s literally his whole story arc in TFATWS-- and yet, he’s wearing dog tags that cut to the chase of it, in a lot of ways. Which is why those dog tags were on in New York all the time except for with Raynor-- why he wore them to bed, even-- and why he leaves them on when he goes to see Sam.

Sam got Bucky that newer tag. Probably when Raynor cleared him as a congratulations thing or maybe just when he saw Bucky left with a friend who went back in time and left him with nothing but a notebook of things to check out and a corpse necklace and felt for him. In essence, Bucky is wearing around another pair of dual identities in TFATWS-- the Bucky who died in WW2 and the Bucky who is still alive again now in the present-- as given back/given to him and represented by the once and future Captain Americas, who also happen to be the guys he’s loved (in different ways) the most in his life. That he’s wearing them is a sign that he wants to be Sgt. Barnes again-- this newer version of himself. It’s progress from the man who shuddered at stuff around his neck and TFATWS shows us that in other scenes as well, in other ways (his hoodie & jacket combo when they go to talk to Zemo; his signature jacket with a higher collar than we’ve seen him in since he left for war.) The wardrobe choices show an evolution-- a willingness to try to a new place of managing what he’s been through.

But wearing those dog tags around Sam in TFATWS? (And wearing them when he and Sam weren’t really communicating ahead of it?) Yeah. The parallel to Bucky showing up in Delacroix with a whole new outfit for Sam’s new identity as Captain America is that it was Sam who gave Bucky the modern half of his dog tags (and the chain, which is lighter silver and from the present era) and that’s why Bucky has been wearing them. Steve gave him a reminder of the guy he used to be, even if that guy was still pretty dead but Sam gave him a duplicate-- one that represented the guy who belongs to more modern times and is alive. One tag is death; two is life.

#sambucky #bucky barnes #sam wilson #steve rogers #tfatws #caatws #the winter soldier #winterfalcon #marvel #mcu

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cockasinthebird · 3 years

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Forever ago I talked about writing a “kiss cam au” that I never got to finish, and perhaps never will, but I’m still actually very happy with what I’ve got! So here you have it, three pages worth of Kiss Cam

The fact that she didn’t say yes right away should have been a clear enough sign of her reluctance to go, but Steve was far too overcome with excitement of having won the tickets to really consider her hesitance as anything unusual. And looking back it wasn’t even the first time she “needed time to think”, but Steve was in love, and he thought that she was too.

To be fair he did ask Tommy first if he wanted to go to the game, considering how obsessed he is with their college’s baseball team, but he and Carol were going on a roadtrip with her parents, leaving the day after summer break started, and Robin hates attending sports events unless there’s a promise of cheerleaders.

And maybe the fact that Nancy wasn’t his first, or even second, choice should have made everything clearer for Steve, too.

“You sure you don’t want anything?” he asks, a slight waver to his voice that he’ll claim is from excitement, but truthfully he’s starting to feel a bit… bashful, as he carries his pretzel, bag of peanuts, and large soda away from the concession stand.

“I’m fine, I have my water bottle,” comes her response with a shake of the mostly full bottle. She meets with Steve’s gaze for barely a second with a strained smile, before returning her look to the sticky floor.

“Really, whatever you want, I’m paying-”

“Steve, I-... it’s ok, I’m still full from lunch,” she sighs, heavy and edging on irritated perhaps, or at least that’s the way Steve hears it. She barely even finished her scone at the café earlier.

“Alright, just tell me if you need something- anything, ok?” he tries, smiles and looks her in the eyes as she finally offers more than a slight glance.

And she smiles back, softly, like she really cares about making Steve happy, even if baseball isn’t her first idea for a date. Or at least that’s how he interprets it.

“Ok.”

There’s a roar echoing through the tunnel, the sound of thousands and thousands of fans hyping up for the game, San Francisco Giants versus Los Angeles Dodgers, Steve himself in a white Dodgers jersey, and even from here he can feel the energy, like an electric charge shooting through him, bringing forth goosebumps and raising the hairs on his arms from pure excitement of being in a stadium again for the first time in who knows how many years. His cheeks hurt from smiling so wide, and truthfully if it wasn’t for the group of people in front of him and Nancy, he might have run out with a near child-like glee, not a care for how other people would have stared.

You’re gonna love it, he recalls telling her during the one hour drive here, It’s like being at a concert, but so much better. The camaraderie is just… so… I don’t even know how to describe it, but you’ll know it when you feel it.

Yet as they near the end of the tunnel leading to their seating area, he looks down at her and catches the way she’s chewing on her lip, hands strangling the plastic bottle till it crinkles, doubt written in between the lines of her furrowed brow. And he thinks about turning back, about telling Nancy that they can just go to the movies instead or look for a nice restaurant, whatever might make her feel better and look less dismayed, like a good boyfriend might do. You have to make sacrifices in a relationship sometimes to make it work-

But there’s a definite point of no return, as they step outside again, the faint stench of piss and beer dissipating as fresh air fills their lungs, well, fresher air - there’s still a lingering scent of sweat and musk and beer, too, but it’s lighter and less offensive, less in your face, and Steve feels invigorated by it all. Left and right he sees rows and rows of people in jerseys, foam fingers, caps, greasy food and beverages, smiles as big as his own.

This is it, the feeling of belonging, of fitting in. Despite the pushing and shoving and elbowing people do in attempts to get to their seats faster, there’s joy to be had, elation shooting through his bloodstream at just the sight of the field before him. It’s everything he remembers from the one game his dad brought him to too many years ago, and while Steve himself doesn’t care to participate in sports, it’s a feeling he’s been chasing ever since with high school baseball, and now in college he still attends every single game he can, but there’s nothing that can compare to all of this.

He inhales till it feels like his lungs might split and tear, wanting to engrain every impression of this moment into his soul, in case he’ll have to go just as many years till he can stand in such a loud and crowded space again.

Unable to look away from all the excited faces, he asks, “So, what do you think?”

“There’s… a lot of people,” Nancy says loudly in an effort to get through the horde of Dodgers fans. “Very noisy!”

“Yeah!” Steve needs to almost shout it back at her, and doesn’t deem it important to mention that that’s part of what he loves so dearly too; the inability to hear himself think, to never be alone again for as long as the game is on.

Hell, even going to the bathroom here is a group activity surrounded by strangers that might or might not take a gander at your dick at the urinals.

“Come on, we’re just up here! Row f.”

Despite the inevitability of it, it’s still considered courteous to apologize when awkwardly making your way down the row in search of your seat, and both Steve and Nancy seem adept at it as they struggle to avoid stepping on shoes or knocking over beverages, one “Sorry” after another.

When Nancy puts a halt to the expedition. “Steve…” her voice a shy little thing only to be heard by Steve standing near flush to her back.

Steve doesn’t even need to ask what’s wrong, when looking over the top of her head is enough for him to understand why she’s this hesitant now. Loud, brash, unruly, a whole row of frat boys acting like they own this entire section, marking their territory with spilled beer and popcorn tossing. Truth be told, even Steve’s a bit intimidated just by their presence here, but refuses to let it ruin his day.

“Yeah… Yeah, you sit here and I’ll take the seat next to them, ok?”

The relief in Nancy’s strained smile is brief before falling back into the very unimpressed, very uncomfortable expression of malcontent, but this time Steve doesn’t find time to worry about her; rather he’s worried about the old, brown leather jacket thrown over his seat.

There’s a certain painfully anxious throb in his chest. From his own vague experience of the frat guys back at Purdue, they’re rarely the kind of people he’d hang around with, all that childlike pestering some just never left behind in high school. But what’s seemingly more dangerous here - sitting down on a buff stranger’s jacket, or asking him to remove it just to be told to “fuck off”.

“Excuse me, your jacket is in my seat.”

Before this stranger has even turned around Steve is already planning an exit strategy that leaves him the most dignity and preferably without getting punched, better safe than sorry and all. Between the clear tension in those broad shoulders, the way his hand grips his beer tighter, and the glare he carries as he turns to look at who dares interrupt his festivities, Steve would say it isn’t unfair to expect some unnecessary hostilities next. Yet when those refreshingly crystal clear eyes meet his, the anger furrowed in this stranger’s brow smooths out, and the way he so suddenly smiles all charming beneath that mustache, Steve fears he might blush as his heart trips over itself.

“Oh, sorry pretty boy, wasn’t sure if anyone was gonna show up.”

#Harringrove #My writing

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readwritejayy · 3 years

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The Name of the Minotaur

“So you’re sticking with that. You were out with Sammy Tuesday night?”

“I was.”

You would have liked Sammy. You would have liked reading me and Sammy meeting in 7th grade, when we were the only two not pretending to be horses or hanging out in the dugout by the baseball field during lunch. You would have liked reading me and Sammy sneaking out at 3am to kick rocks down Parks View Lane, sweating in the sticky summer heat, laughing about everything and anything—the way we couldn’t during sleepovers without risking my father’s wrath. You really would have liked reading me and Sammy finally graduating, sharing a dorm at “U of C”, me an Anthropology major and Sammy in Psychology.

But we didn’t graduate. And I have to tell You, instead of letting You meet Sammy Yourself.

“Are you sure you want to go with that? It’s your last chance, kid.” He taps his pen against his yellow notepad. One long grey hair juts out from his bushy eyebrows, catching the light when he looks up.

I pick at the loose skin around my thumbnail to tamper down the urge to pluck it. “I don’t really have a choice, considering it’s what I was doing.”

He sighs, setting his glasses down and rubbing his eyes. His voice sounds weary from repeating the same things over and over. Or maybe that’s just how he sounds, I’ve never heard him anything other than weary from the first time I was ushered into a room like this.

“You know that’s not a great alibi, right? The only person who can corroborate your whereabouts the night your father was killed is reported missing the next day?”

The AC clicks on—the hair dances back and forth.

I breathe: four seconds in, hold for four, five seconds out. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I say, clasping my hands together under the table. “I’ve lost both my father and my best friend, and now I’m being accused of both crimes?”

“Lost? You sound convinced Sam is dead, not just missing.”

Sitting up, I blink. “Well don’t you? I mean, with the shoe on the front porch, and that note Sammy wrote—”

“We still have handwriting analysts looking over the note, but we haven’t confirmed it’s a match for Sam’s writing.” He flipped to another page in his folder. “I just wanted to go over what we’ve got one more time.”

“Because you have no actual evidence I had anything to do with either event.”

He ignores this. “You said you left your house at around 6pm, met up with Sam and stayed out all night until you came back home at 2am, where you found your father beaten and stabbed with a kitchen knife in the living room. Could you walk me through what you and Sam did that kept you out for eight whole hours?”

“We met up at Mixie’s—Sam had a coupon from the football game Saturday, just had to mention we go to Valley High and we’d get a free side of fries—ate outside for about an hour, went to the park, and then just walked around Sam’s neighborhood until I went home.”

“See, now that’s interesting, because we saw you two on surveillance footage across the street from Mixie’s around that time, but that’s it. Nowhere else do you or Sam appear on any footage for the rest of the night.”

I cock my head. “I don’t think they have CCTV at the park, or in a residential neighborhood.”

“And for eight hours? You told Sam’s mother you two would be going to the library.”

“I just said that so she’d let me and Sam hang out. She doesn’t like me, my father didn’t like Sam. To get what I want I lie. A lot.”

He hums. “Sam seemed pretty agitated in the footage, did anything happen between the two of you?”

“I mentioned my father had come home angry, again. Sam was upset.”

“Oh right, the defensive marks around your neck.”

“Yes, except he didn’t make them as I was killing him, like you keep suggesting. It happened when he came home, before I left.” Be glad You’re reading this, You don’t want to see two large handprints around a sixteen year old’s neck.

“It just seems a bit convenient for you to be out for such a long time the same night your father is killed. And for the weapon to be something from your own kitchen.”

“I was out for ‘such a long time’ to avoid going back home, since my father beatme. Maybe someone was waiting for him to be home alone. Maybe someone stopped by. They got to talking with him, didn’t like the things he said or did. Maybe as they sat there, they realized they couldn’t stand his drivel for single second longer and lashed out the way my father was so prone to doing himself.” I clear my throat. “My father angered a lot of people.”

He clicks his pen once, twice, a third time before setting it down. “So all you have is a shaky alibi.”

“That’s true, I don’t have any proof that I didn’t kill my father or do anything to Sammy. But I don’t think I need to. I think you need proof I did kill my father or had anything do to with Sammy’s disappearance.”

“You’re acting pretty antagonistic, aren’t you kid?”

“I’m grieving.” I stand up, shoving the chair out. “If I’m not being arrested, which I’m assuming I’m not or you’d have done it the last time we were here, I’d like to leave.”

He says nothing but doesn’t stop me as I throw open the door. I zone out as I leave, the route to the parking lot already imprinted on my brain. After climbing into my car, I fish out the bracelet from my cupholder. Identical to the one on my wrist except two of the beads are cracked.

You want me to give You more information. You want more clues, more context. You want more because You want to know if You should sympathize with or vilify me.

Well, too bad. You don’t get any more information. This is the end—for You and for me. But to You, it’s just a story; you’ll finish this and walk away, maybe make lunch or go to class or fall asleep. But I can’t escape from this. You’ll find another book, another character to either care about or project onto and then you’ll move on.

I’m stuck in this cycle. So I’ll exercise the only amount of control I have and say:

Am I to be sympathized with, or vilified?

Figure it out.

#hi guys i wrote a #short story #original writing #apologies if the formatting is off i still cant seem to figure out how to make it not look weird

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just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot · 4 years

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Soulmate September - Day 10

Day 10 - You are born with a birthmark, similar to a tattoo, that is shared by your soulmate.

Pairing(s): Romantic Anaroceit, Romantic RemSleep, Ambiguous Poly Glasses Gays

TWs: Swearing, Remus being Remus, animal death metions briefly, implied sexual mention once I think?

–

Why was it so difficult to simply bring together two handsome, obnoxious soulmates?

How could grown men be this dense?!Virgil had been trying for MONTHS at this point to get these idiots to date, yet for some reason

Instead of wanting to date each other, they both seemed far more interested in someone else.

In him.

Why, why did this have to be his life? Tormented by such stupid, handsome men?

Okay, maybe he had a teeny crush on both of them but Virgil was getting ahead of himself.

Working at the local theatre was doing some real good for Virgil; being a techie meant he was mostly out of the spotlight - so no chance of any performance anxiety - and it meant he had to actually wake up and be a functional human being but was flexible enough that he could call in sick pretty easily if he needed a mental health day.

Thankfully, things had been going well until Virgil looked down from the catwalk to note that the two best actors in their troupe, Roman Prince and Janus D. Lyre, both bore each other’s soulmate markings. Both on the backs of their necks, all too easy to miss. Ever since, Virgil had been trying to subtly get them to realise they were soulmates. Of course, given the intimacy of the soulmate marks, it would be entirely outrageous for Virgil to simply tell them they were soulmates; social etiquette wasn’t his forte, but his anxiety really didn’t want the possible shunning he might receive if he broke that rule. Knowing that Janus and Roman were often together for rehearsals and were similarly self-obsessed, Virgil assumed getting them interested in each other would be a piece of cake.

And yet. Somehow. The man they were both interested in was Virgil himself.

Every time he tried to get the two talking, Virgil wound up being flirted with or found himself stuck between two arguing idiots. If anything, Virgil wondered if his interfering had made things worse. Now instead of kidding and being perfect and gorgeous together, they were absolutely straight up enemies. Janus did his best to interrupt - and one-up - Roman’s stellar attempts at flirting, and Roman often tried to out shine Janus by giving Virgil anything from his favourite chocolates to gothic black roses to new headphones.

Not that Virgil didn’t secretly love being the object of their mutual affection, if anything it gave him hope that perhaps whoever his soulmate was would dote on him just as much. But just like his non-existent soulmate mark, this just wasn’t meant to be. He still wasn’t sure why he didn’t have a soulmate mark like everyone else; even his ace and aro friends confirmed they had soulmates too, so why was he skipped over? Probably because no one would ever want to be his soulmate.Yeah. Probably.

Virgil was lost in that downward spiral when Remus leapt off of the set he was painting and landed just shy of crushing the poor emo.

“Wow you look like shit,”, the trash rat greeted, sitting and slinging an arm around Virgil before he could protest, “Are the girls fighting again?”

Virgil tried to stifle a snicker. It’s a stupid meme reference, Virgil, don’t laugh.

“Of course it fucking is, when is it not?“

Remus nodded, though he looked more bored than sympathetic, “Well, how about I offer you some advice, my good bitch?”

Virgil squinted at him in both annoyance and suspicion. “If it’s going to get me arrested, it’s a solid ‘fuck no’.”

“Relax, asshole, it’s totally legal and requires zero body bags and or falsified witness statements!”

Well. That’s about as good as they’re going to get. Virgil huffed, “Fine, give me the deets, Ratman.”

Remus snickered at the old nickname; A decade had passed but still the memory of the two of them graffitiing their high school gym with their tags on their last day still lived on.

“Alright, Stitch Bitch, here’s how you do it,”, Remus ignored Virgil’s eye roll and continued, “Ask them both on a date, same place and time. Talk about your interests, since you’re probably not gonna actually have that much in common, then you can just reject both of them! They’ll be driven into each other’s arms, or some shit. You know what they’re like, they’re dramatic as fuck. It’ll be perfect.”

Virgil wasn’t amused, “But what if they don’t? What if I just end up breaking both their hearts and they wind up all depressed and-?!”

“Then it solves your problem anyway, dipshit.”, he rolled his eyes, “Jeez, you’re worse than Roman with the dramatics! Think of the middle ground, you turn them both down, they go home sulking, but they’re big boys! They’ll get over it and get together some other day! Big deal!” Remus affectionately ruffled Virgil’s hair and didn’t stop until Virgil all but threw him off, “Alright, alright, fine! I’ll try, but if it all goes wrong, you’re helping me pack to move across the fucking globe.” “Ooh, alright! Or I can hide your body if it goes REALLY badly! I know how to make sure the police never find it, after all! Did you know you just need to bury it vertically and put a dead animal on top-”

Virgil tuned him out, already trying to narrow down locations for dates in his head. He’d need to pick somewhere both Roman and Janus would agree to go. He didn’t exactly doubt either of them would turn him down, but he needed to be sure they’d both attend. Perhaps the local restaurants would be a good place to start? It’d be easy to Mrs.Doubtfire that shit. Minus the clothing change, of course. Maybe the Golden Palace might be a good idea? It’s bougie enough for Roman, classy enough for Janus, and if Virgil got lucky enough, perhaps they’d both be the ones to pay for dinner.

“...And so I told Roman about it and then Roman tells me “Remus, you dunce, you got arrested because you were caught carrying a dangerous weapon in Starbucks” but I personally think that cop was just an asshole. I mean, it was just a baseball bat for fuck’s sake, so WHAT if it had a few nails in it-”

The techie noted that Remus was still babbling to himself so he clicked his fingers just shy or flicking him in the ear,

“When’s Roman free? I know Janus is pretty flexible-”

“I’ll bet.”, Remus snickered. “Dude. You have your soulmate, don’t be a dick.”

“Hey, that doesn’t mean I can’t mentally rank every guy here on how bendy I think they’d be in bed-”

“THAT ASIDE.”, Virgil interrupted, rubbing his temples like it would squeeze out the horrible mental image and several questions he never wanted answers to, “I’ve nailed down the where, I just need the when. Janus is free most days, but Roman’s pretty enigmatic about that shit. Do you know if he’s free tonight? Might as well get this shit over with.”

Remus mulled it over, “He should be. But you should probably just ask him first then Janus. Y’know, save yourself the trouble.”

Ah. That did make sense. Virgil tried not to let it show that he hadn’t thought of that and nodded, “Right… Okay. Just, if I fuck up talking to either of them, be ready.”

“With the car or a shovel?”

“Both.”

The trashrat snickered and let Virgil stand up, giving him an ‘affectionate’ jab in the back of his knee just to get a reaction out of the techie. Virgil wasn’t sure why Remus did that sometimes, he figured it was just another one of the demented twin’s eccentricities.

Inhaling deeply, Virgil sought out Roman, careful to avoid Janus’ line of sight as he tapped the flamboyant twin on the arm. Roman spun to face him, his expression lighting up in a way that made Virgil shamefully wish that he was his soulmate. That he was worthy of all his doting.

“Virge! What can I do for you, my dark and stormy knight?”

Stop being so fucking charming perhaps?

“Uh, it’s kind of an embarrassing request, so bear with me.”

“Of course! What’s up?”

Just ask him, ignore the butterflies, he’s not your soulmate.

“I was wondering, if you’d want to go on a date with me tonight-”

Roman positively swept the emo off his feet, his beaming smile could have burned itself into Virgil’s eyes.

“YES!! YES, I’D ADORE-”

“YEP! Okay, that’s great!”, he shushed him, trying to keep things as quiet as possible, “Listen, I know you’re excited but I’m really anxious about this-”

“Nothing new there.”, Roman chuckled affectionately as he put Virgil down.

“Oh shut up,”, Virgil smirked, pushing down the sunny feeling that chuckle brought out, “Look, I’ll text you the details so can you just keep this between us? I don’t want anyone gossiping. Not that I’m ashamed of you or anything I just-”

Roman carefully halted his word vomit with a gentle caress of Virgil’s cheek, “It’s alright, I understand. After all, with such an honour, I’d do good not to betray the trust of my charming prince.”

Virgil flusteredly averted his gaze, “Hmph. What happened to your ‘dark and stormy knight’?”

“Well, if things go well, I’d hope to promote him.”

The wink Roman shot Virgil should be illegal, that thing could have killed him. The techie just gave him an attempt at an ‘oh fuck off’ smirk that came out more as a ‘fuck I have a crush’ shy smile.

No time to dwell on it, he had another stupidly handsome man to ask on a fake date.

Virgil checked with the stagehands and made his way over to the backstage dressing room area, finding Janus sat on one of the makeup tables while their dramaturg was busy going over some directions for their next rehearsal. Upon looking up and noticing him, Janus smirked - another expression that should be outright banned for it’s lethality - and politely requested the dramaturg ‘bother him another time’. They did exactly that, leaving Virgil and Janus alone to talk,

“Virgil,”, Janus purred with a voice like sweet honey, “what brings you here?”

Don’t think about that sexy voice, don’t think about that sexy voice, don’t-

“You, actually.” Play it cool, Virge. Be suave and charming. “I wanted to ask you out on a date.”

Janus’ eyes widened slightly in surprise. Virgil felt pretty proud to have finally stunned the silver-tongued gent, though he knew it’d only be a fleeting victory. If anyone would out-smooth even the most flirty person alive, it would be Janus.

With a snake-like fluidity, Janus slunk off of the table and made his way over to Virgil; whereas Roman was only an inch or two taller than him, Janus had a whole six inches at least. Virgil found it semi-intimidating, but that just made the taller man more attractive if he was being honest. Janus softly ran a hand through Virgil’s purple-dyed hair,

“That’s rather a bold request, Virgil. What brought this on, if I may ask? Not that I’m complaining..”

Virgil had to work extremely hard to resist the urge to nestle into the warmth of his palm. Not your soulmate! Stop it! “I uh, I figured I would take a risk for once. It’s alright if you don’t wanna-”

“No.”, Janus interjected, the hand in Virgil’s hair sliding under his chin to lock their eyes, “I’d very much like to go on a date with you. When and where?”

Virgil swallowed nervously, “The Golden Palace, tonight? I’ll um, I’ll book the table and text you the time-”

“Perfect.”, Janus smirked, gently releasing Virgil. He hadn’t realised how much he’d been subconsciously leaning into Janus’ touch until he almost felt himself sway. “I’ll be sure to wear my best suit for you. Really give you something to blush over.”

Shit.

Virgil had no rebuttal, he simply nodded and hastily headed back to his usual breakspot to work out just how he would survive tonight…

It turned out the answer was simple; he wouldn’t.

Thankfully Virgil had settled on an outfit that was just the right mix of fancy and casual; his black leather jacket hugged his shoulders which his dark purple button up sat under. He’d gone back and forward between his options for bottoms, but in the end, he preferred his black short pencil skirt and a pair of sheer black tights that matched his black ankle boots. It was a bold choice, but Virgil felt far more powerful in that combination. Like he could kick ass and get away with it.

Virgil needn’t have bothered, however, as the second he showed up at quarter to seven to meet Roman, any semblance of confidence in his ability to control the situation went right out the window. It should have been illegal to look that handsome. A white waistcoat and pants bearing gold trim, combined with a burgundy button up shirt with the sleeves rolled? How dare Roman look that beautiful-

Oh god, now he’s smiling at him from across the room. Too late to back out now.

Swallowing nervously, Virgil returned the smile and headed over to the table he’d booked; far enough from the door for Roman to miss Janus arriving, and out of the way enough so that they wouldn’t see each other too soon. If he wasn’t so nervous, Virgil would have pat himself on the back for the trouble he went to securing two tables over the phone, but the last thing he wanted to focus on was the person on the phone’s sassy remarks as he did so. Instead, he focused on Roman politely getting up to pull out his chair for him.

“You look stunning, Virge! Did you change up your eye shadow too?”

Virgil gave an anxious nod, “Yeah, I thought maybe I’d try the purple instead of solid black like usual. Do you like it?”

Roman’s grin could’ve smothered him in the night and he’d have thanked it for the priveledge, “I love it!”

While keeping an eye on the time, Virgil let himself roll into conversation with Roman; he was surprised by not only how smoothly the conversation went, but how much they had in common. Sure, there was a tiiiiny heated exchange as to which Disney movie reigned supreme, but their mutual love of Nightmare Before Christmas and the artistic pursuits made for some wonderful discussion. It was a shame Virgil had to remind himself of just why he was doing this.

He was supposed to be making his rejection of Roman easier, not more difficult.

Finally, as 8 O’clock rolled around, Janus walked in followed by a few other smartly dressed patrons. Of course, Janus very much stood out among them wearing a black dinner suit with an obsidian waist coat and golden coloured button up underneath. His usual bowler hat had been replaced for a much fancier one with a larger brim that held a marigold flower. The sight was so enticing, Virgil had to will himself to stop staring as he got up from the table,

“Excuse me, Roman, mind if I go use the bathroom?”

Roman gave a nod and Virgil made haste towards the restroom area; thankfully he’d planned ahead and knew he could use the corridor that went along behind the bar to emerge on the other side of the room without being detected. However, a new obstacle proved to be a challenge; Janus hadn’t taken his eyes off of the door since the moment he’d walked in and removed his suit jacket.

Damn. Virgil hadn’t anticipated that.

Luckily, one of the men who’d come in behind Janus - a man adorned in an off-black suit wearing a beanie, a pair of sunglasses, and a face mask - had just come out of the bathroom door behind him. Without the time to let his social anxiety kick in, Virgil stopped the man and asked quietly, “Hey, sorry to be a bother, but if you can distract the handsome guy at that table for a couple minutes,“, he began, gesturing to Janus, “I’ll give you ten bucks, how’s that sound?”.

The man seemed to stare for a moment behind the shades then silently gestured with his hands in a motion of “more”.

Of course.

“Okay, uh, fifteen?”

More again. This asshole..

“Ugh, fine, twenty! That's as much as I can spare!”

The man shrugged and nodded, gladly taking the money and, to his credit, doing exactly as was asked. Virgil watched him approach Janus, asking for the time if the way Janus took his attention and turned it to his watch was an indication. It bought Virgil enough time to ‘arrive’ just as the man gave a thank you nod to Janus.

“Sorry I’m a little late,”, Virgil apologised, taking his seat, “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting?”

“Not at all,”, Janus assured him, smirking delightedly in a way that made Virgil’s knees feel weak even in a sitting position, “You look beautiful, Virgil, if I’d known you’d look so good, I’d have picked out an even better suit.”

This fucking guy, oh my god. “Oh shut up, you look handsome as is.”, Virgil shot back, doing his best to remain calm even as Janus leant in close to strike up conversation.

“I’m telling you, babes, he’s either a cheater or he’s crazy.”

Remy aimed the stirrer he’d been using to push back his cuticles towards Virgil and Janus, then trained it on his stoic co worker, “Look, he’s got two gorgeous guys here and neither of them have noticed yet.”

The aforementioned co worker rolled his eyes, “Remy, you have once again utterly misread the situation for the sake of needless dramatics. It’s rather obvious what’s going on here if you take the time to pick up on subtle body language clues.”

“What’s this about clues, Logie Bear?”, questioned a rather eager waiter carrying a tray of glasses back behind the bar. “Are you playing Sherlock again?”

“Patton, please, refrain from the pet names during working hours, I’ve told you before-”

“While they’re perfectly suitable and welcome at home, we must remain professional at work.”, chimed in another bespectacled man who was manning the till, “It’s fine Logan, honey, let them off the hook this once, okay?”

Patton put down the tray and wrapped their arms around the man who’d just spoken, “Emile’s right! C’mon Logan, you can’t deny it, you like the name too-”

Logan cleared his throat to throw off the peachy blush that threatened to give away his adoration for his soulmates, ”As I was saying before, it’s obvious as to what this rather anxious individual is up to. His body language isn’t that of a cheater, Remy,”, the server flipped Logan the bird, “In fact, I’d hazard a guess that the poor lad is simply attempting to work out which man is his soulmate. I read a fascinating journal that talked all about this phenomenon where some soulmates are unable to see their soulmarks and thus rely on a technique comparable to sensing one’s aura-”

“Okay so like, you think he’s trying to get a read on these two to narrow it down?”, Remy interrupted before Logan could further explore his tangent, “Well then, it’s obvious which one he’s gonna pick.”

Remy gestured lazily over his shoulder at Roman, who was currently twirling his fork between his fingers, “It’s gonna be Tall, Dark and Dumbass over there, babes.”

Logan scoffed, “Falsehood. Clearly the gentleman he’s sat with currently is a much more appropriate option.”. The server nodded his head in their direction, “All factors point to the man in black not only being the more suitable option, but his body language is far more open and receptive to our subject.”

“Subject. Christ it’s like I’m back in science one.”, Remy groaned, but continued to argue, “Besides, you’re ignoring how he’s like, totes more comfortable with my boy in white, sweetie. Look at him, he can’t wait to get away from your boy in black.“

Sure enough, Virgil had gone to switch partners again, returning to Roman with a sweetly shy apologetic gesture.

Patton piped up, “What if they’re like us, Logie Bear? Y’know, more than one soulmate?”

Logan shook his head, “Ridiculous, it’d make no sense to have such a date if that were the case.”

Remy nodded in agreement for the first time, “Yeah, either way, you’re wrong on this one, Logan. Trust me, I know what a fellow morosexual looks like.”

Emile and Logan both sighed at that one while Patton tsk’d, “Remy, come on, thats your soulmate you’re talking about! You shouldn’t be mean!”

Remy quirked an eyebrow at Patton, “Babes, have you met Remus? I love the big sap but he’s a certified dumbass with a heaping dose of cryptid.”, he opened the drinks cooler and took out a lemonade bottle, not giving a shit that the three soulmates behind him were absolutely unamused. ”Anyway, if you’re so sure over who our ‘subject’ will end up with, how about we bet on it? Loser has to work two weeks of overtime and the winner gets thirty dollars or some shit. You in?”

Patton and Emile both declined, both more focused on their work and simply enjoying the dates being had, while Logan agreed wholeheartedly, “I do hope your next two weeks are free, Remy...”

He couldn’t take much more of this.

The longer Virgil kept going back and forth between the two of them - using his anxiety to buy himself time without too much suspicion - the more he was getting tangled up in feelings he knew he couldn’t indulge. Every second with Roman made him smile, even when trading verbal jabs. Every second with Janus made him feel more bold, able to flirt back every once and a while. But this wasn’t right. Janus, Roman, they were made for each other. Not for him.

He wouldn’t get to curl up next to Roman on a cold night, watching Disney movies, baking together, or following along to Bob Ross tutorials only for one of them inevitably would start painting on the other until they were both paint splattered, cackling messes.

He wouldn’t get to dance quietly in the living room with Janus while their favourite music plays, swaying softly to his favourite Jazz music, or lazily draping himself over Janus’ lap while they read their favourite books long into the night.

Virgil stared into the bathroom mirror; his ‘dates’ had been so sweet as to compliment him, but all he could focus on was how much of a mess he felt. He’s going to break their hearts beyond repair, all because he couldn’t just tell them they were soulmates. Social etiquette be damned, why had he let it go on like this?

Feeling his chest constricting, Virgil quickly grabbed his phone and texted Remus.

V: [help. Having a panic attack. Distract me]

He tried to remember his breathing exercises, chewing his free hand’s thumbnail anxiously until he got the text notification;

R: [Cool. Did u kno rabbits eat their babies when they’re stressed?]

…. Virgil heavily regretted asking Remus to distract him.

V: [Horrifying. Thank you.]

R: [Anytime, Stitch Bitch. Now what happened?]

V: [Dates backfired.]

R: [U caught feelings didnt u]

Virgil groaned and kept typing.

V: [fuck u]

R: [fuck me urself coward.]

Well at least that got a laugh out of him. Remus followed up that text before he could reply:

R: [Just go out there and tell them the truth]

V: [nope, no way, they’ll hate me]

R: [Bitch they’re both smitten w/ u it’ll hurt but they’ll live, they’re sat there worried about u]

V: [how the fuck do you know that?]

R: [Remy’s on shift tonight, he and Logan are taking bets on how things will pan out. They’ve been texting me non stop.]

That did explain a few things. Namely the one server with the sunglasses and sassy attitude who gave him and Roman extra desserts “for like, the cutest couple in this bitch”, and the other more stoic server who brought him and Janus a bottle of champagne “to celebrate a wonderful partnership”. When would his life stop feeling like a goddamn circus?

Virgil was pulled from his thoughts as his next text sent his blood running cold,

R: [u might wanna get back to em, they’ll be worried about u by now]

Dammit. Virgil had just left the bathroom to be met with a worried Roman, “Virgil, are you alright!? You were gone so long, I thought something had happened!”

Stomp down that affection you’re feeling, Virgil. It’s just gonna hurt more.

“I’m fine, its just my nerves-”

“Virgil?”

Both men turned to spy Janus entering the hallway with an expression of shock and disgust upon seeing the two of them. He promptly strode over and with surprising gentleness moved Virgil to his side,

“It’s bad enough I can’t avoid you at work, Prince, but I’ll not have you ruining our date night.”

As Janus went to lead Virgil away, Roman held onto Virgil’s hand, “Actually, Lies and Dolls, he’s with me tonight, so kindly take your delusions and leave.”

Oh my god, why did he trust Remus’ plan in the first place?! Janus smirked dangerously, “Or what, you dramatic hack?”

Roman took exception to that, and while Janus had the height advantage, Roman still knew how to be intimidating when needed, “I’ll make you leave!”

Before either of them could come to blows, Virgil got in between them. He might as well come clean,

“BOTH OF YOU STOP!”

Janus and Roman faced him, sporting stunned but ever attentive expressions. Ugh, this was gonna hurt.

“I can’t do this anymore! Yeah, I did ask you both here, and yeah! You’re both wonderful but you’re not meant to be with me! You’re meant to be with each other! Ugh, this was a mistake! I can’t-! I can’t be here, I’m sorry-!”

Virgil wrenched himself from between them, making a beeline through the tables and just getting out of the door before the two caught up to him. In the back of his mind, Virgil assumed the serving staff that followed behind were either desperate to see this unfold or just making sure this wasn’t going to be a dine ‘n’ dash scenario.

“Virge, come on, you’re not making any sense! I’m not meant to be with Janus,”, Roman assured him, rolling his left sleeve up the whole way and revealing Virgil’s soul mark, “I’m meant to be with you! You’re my soulmate, Virgil! Surely you knew-”

“That’s,”, Janus interrupted, “That’s not possible, because Virgil is my soulmate.”

Both Roman and Virgil turned to face him, watching Janus roll up his right sleeve to reveal Virgil’s soul mark in the exact same place as Roman’s had been.

To say Virgil was confused was an understatement, “W...Wait, no, that’s...”

Roman and Janus stared at each other’s soul mark then looked to Virgil, “You… really didn’t know that I- that we were your soulmates?”

Virgil shook his head, ”I don’t have your soulmarks though! It doesn’t make sense...”

He turned away, grasping his arms as he tried to make sense of all this. All his life, Virgil had looked in his mirror and wished - God, how he’d wished - to find just one mark. Something to prove that he was indeed someone’s soulmate. That the universe hadn’t forsaken him. And now he had two of the most wonderful men he’d ever met sporting his soul mark while he had nothing to reassure him this wasn’t some cosmic fluke?!

Janus and Roman stood in awkward silence, the latter giving the servers an apologetic look and pulling out his wallet to pay when the former noticed something about Virgil that had him squinting to get a look. “.... Virgil, do forgive me for this.”

Without hesitating, Janus whipped out his pocket knife - why he brought it on a date, Virgil had no idea - and cut a hole in the back of Virgil’s tights, careful to avoid his skin.

“What the FUCK, Janus!?”, came the obviously horrified reply, only for Janus to take a picture with his phone and hand it to Virgil, rendering him speechless.

Sure enough, there on the inside of his right knee joint was Janus’ soul mark.

“I just happened to spot the same shade of yellow showing through and, well….”

He didn’t need to finish, Virgil was stunned to silence. All this time, how could he have missed it!?

Well, it wasn’t in the easiest to see area, and come to think of it, his mirror was a little too high off the ground for that kind of angle, and with the marks being so small..…..

The revelation was met with a shocked gasp from Roman.

“... Virgil, may I-”

“I’ll just take them off, fucking hell!”

Both men turned away to let Virgil remove his shoes and tights in peace. When he gave them the all clear, Roman was ecstatic to note his own soul mark adorning the left knee joint. Virgil glanced towards his two soulmates, letting out a soft sigh of adoration at their delighted faces. He was feeling a whole rush of emotions, but right now? The last thing he wanted was to waste any more time.

“Gimme a second to pay these guys,”, Virgil gestured to the gaggle of servers set in various expressions of celebratory delight, “Then we can go back to my place and have a movie night.”

Roman and Janus offered sweet smiles to their soulmate; that sounded like the perfect end to a wild night.

---- Bonus (Because I got attached to this universe, fight me) ----

With the cafe clearing out aside a few stragglers, Remy sighed distantly, “Well, it’s a good thing we both won, babes, I didn’t wanna get stuck with all that overtime.”

Logan gave him a perplexed look, “Actually, we both lost, therefore we both should work overtime.”

Remy pulled down his shades to glare at Logan, “.... Are you fucking kidding me? Bitch, we WON, and we get to keep our money, babes. What part of that makes you think “nope, overtime sounds better”!?”

Logan was about to go into the technicalities when he chanced a glance back at his soulmates, watching as Patton excitedly gushed over the night’s events, stimming excitedly with their apron while Emile folded his own and put it away for the night, glad to listen to Patton’s bubbly rambling. Logan couldn’t deny, the idea of staying late while his soulmates were home without him wasn’t an appealing idea. Maybe this once he’d spare Remy a lecture.

“.... You know what, you’re right. Excuse me.”

With that, Logan went to join his soulmates while Remy stifled a fond smirk and went to go ask the last patron to leave. He wanted to just go home and collapse into Remus’ arms. Ugh, he just hoped this dude wasn’t going to make a fuss. He wasn’t sure what kind of guy combined a suit, a beanie, shades, AND a face mask, but Remy just hoped he wasn’t here to rob the place.

“Alright sweetie, you gotta go. We’re closing and I wanna get home to my loveable dumbass. Let’s go-”

The man gestured to his ear. Ah. Remy rolled his eyes and leant down to speak closer,

“I said-“

The man quickly pulled down his face mask and stole a peck from Remy, a grin spreading across his face that curled excitedly to match his moustache.

“You gotta get home to meeeee~.”

Remus took off the sunglasses and beanie, revelling in the surprise that painted itself over Remy’s face. He stood up, wrapping his arms around Remy’s waist as his soulmate tried to form a sentence, “How long have you just been sitting here?!”

“Ever since I figured it’d be funny to watch Virgil realise he was trying to set up his own soulmates-”

“You- Wait, Virgil!? That’s the guy you’re always telling me about?!”

“Yep!”, Remus grinned.

Remy wrapped his arms around Remus’ neck, unsure if he wanted to strangle him or hold him closer, “...Did you know he-”

“Had two soulmates? Yep~!”

Remus chuckled and kissed Remy’s cheek, “Virge and I used to have gym together. He kept saying he couldn’t find his soulmarks, I’m surprised he never got my hints...”

Sighing annoyedly at his soulmate, Remy pulled him in for a proper kiss before he could go on more of a tangent. Once they broke apart, Remy poked Remus’ chest,

“You made me lose thirty bucks, y’know.”

Remus grinned harder and pulled out twenty dollars “Well then, I better take this generous donation from my best friend and treat you to a milkshake on the way home then...”

-----

It’s finally doooone!!

This was a long one for sure, but sue me, I got super into this one!!

I’ll be playing catch up for a while so get ready for Day 11, I ended up with a last minute change and it’s gonna be a tear jerker. @tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses @fandomsofrandom

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battle-of-roses · 3 years

Text

When Rome Burns : Part 1

TW : Logan Roy's A+ Parenting, Manipulative Logan

By @your-gay-cousin-clover

---

With a certain hint of trepidation, Tom starts dressing himself to meet up with Shiv in downtown New York. The plan was pretty simple for the day: meet up with Shiv, find a gift for her father, put on his best Midwest honourable fellow personality and charm the pants of all her family. He stopped for a moment in the middle of his bedroom, standing there in his white button up, boxers and black socks, biting his lip on whether to take the gold ring, he’d picked out a week ago, to the party. After all this time he had spent with her, ever since their whirlwind romance in Hong Kong, he was sure that she was the one for him. His soulmate, the-one-who-he-got, his loml. The question was of when?

The party would be a good place to propose. Lavish surroundings, her entire family, and a pretty pricey ring to show his commitment to her. All eggs in your basket, he’d say if- when she said yes. And it would all be fine and okay. He starts to daydream for a moment, his dreams flying higher than just becoming Logan Roy’s son-in-law, maybe he’d join in the business himself. He would swoop in, take over one of the main branches of Royco, maybe ATN and continue the family business until he had his own billionaire kids à la Shiv.

Beep! Beep!

His fantasies suddenly dashed down into the floor. He jerks and reaches to the phone on the table to receive the call. It’s Shiv.

“Hey honeybee,” he says in a sweet-syrupy tone that he hoped conveyed his affections accordingly.

“Where are you?”

He immediately frowns. Her tone is clipped sharp, a razor’s edge, threatening him to not speak a word off their usual script.

“I’m … ahh… just getting dressed. Oh, oh, how formal is the even supposed to be? Do you think I could sneak in a tartan tie pattern to impress your Dad?” He tries to detract from her irritation.

“The fuck, Tom? Don’t be silly. Just wear whatever you want, you’re not a pre-schooler. It’s a formal event, but don’t wear anything weird or embarrassing.” Her words just kick up a latent anger in him that he press down as per usual. It’s alright, maybe it’s her job that’s got her stressed.

He tries another jovial voice for a size. “Ok, love-,” he continues, but there’s no Shiv on the other side of the call. Just him and the dial tone mocking him.

Right.

Nothing weird or embarrassing.

He drops the ring into a drawer of his bedside table and shuts it close.

—

The day goes in its own pace and Shiv makes a hasty apology about her signal getting dropped in the elevator. He waves it off, he always goes. There’s no use holding on a grudge with his future-wife-to-be, on silly things like one too many passive aggressive words and brushed off endearments. And so, here he is now. Standing in the middle of an opulent penthouse living room, chatting pleasantries with Marcia, hands sweaty as he tightens his grasp on the gilded box with the watch.

It had been pretty expensive to purchase on his own. He and Shiv were comfortable, sure. But they - no, he wasn’t Olympus rich like the Roys, America’s number one conservative messiah. He hopes it’s enough. Enough for a job at ATN, enough for Shiv, above all, enough for Logan.

His fucking future hung on a balance because of a little ticking metal machine.

Ding!

There. The elevator’s number stuck still on their current floor and his breathing picks up. Everyone else collects around the door to waiting as the metal door open, but he stands back, alone. For a split second, he’s swallowed up in all the gold, gild and glamour around him and he simply can’t breathe.

He sticks out like a sore thumb in the middle of all this. No matter how brave, how much of a fucking asshole he pretends to be. He does not deserve to be here. He’s what? Got a few hundred thousand in his savings, while collectively in front of him stands the 3rd richest family in America. He just wants to bolt and never come back.

And in the same fleeting moment, the doubt hastily vaporises as Logan Roy himself steps into the view amidst loud yells of “Happy Birthday!”.

The moment he sees Logan, it’s something of oh, that echoes in his head. Like oh, he’s just an old man. And he indeed looks frazzled, startled by the sudden cheers. But he whispers something to Marcia, who takes his coat and hands it off to one of the numerous maids hurrying around the house.

And then he straightens up to face the crowd. There’s something in his eyes that makes Tom want to shrink back against the patterned wallpaper. Something fierce, something very calculating. He watches as Logan makes his way through the crowd of his children and nods absent-mindedly at everyone’s greetings.

“Shiv,” Logan says, turning to Shiv, his back to Tom “Where’s Wambsgans? I thought we invited him.”

Shiv’s expression falters for a second, perhaps debating whether her father’s joking or not. It’s clear, he’s not, when the beat of silence extends between them. She smiles back again, radiant. And gosh, Tom loves her so much.

“He’s behind you, Dad!”

Tom didn’t have much time to be mortified as Logan turned to him and stuck his hand out to shake. Awkwardly balancing his watch box on one hand, Tom tries to make grip firm and solid. Logan gives him two shakes and quickly removes his hand.

“Wambsgans, you’ve got a strong grip. Trying to break an old man’s hand, eh?”

Fuck. Of course, Logan Roy would be above all masculine handshaking bullshit that the Wall Street posers were really into. Logan knew he was the king of the world, didn’t need to prove it to any Tom-Dick-Harry on the street.

Logan’s already turning away from him, but Tom tries to swallow his foot down the throat trying not to make his first impression even worst. He lets out a laugh, but winces internally. Too braying, too harsh, too corny.

“Well, you’re not that weak, Mr Roy-“ He tries. He does. But Shiv already looks disappointed and Logan’s barely listening to him. His time to prove himself is running out.

Ding!

Everyone turns to look at the elevator again. Kendall Roy steps out the lift with his ex-wife and children in tow. He’s wearing that same black blue outfit combo, just like the one on Forbes, proudly declaring him as the HEIR WITH THE FLAIR. Tom has read Kendall’s entire wikipedia enough times to know that the stress marks and the lack of the photogenic smile was simply because of his age.

Drugs - Divorce - Demotion.

Yet like every American hero billionaire, Kendall got the second chance that could only be afforded to the rich and now, most probably, he was going to the Successor to the entire media conglomerate. Even then, Tom wouldn’t say that he exactly envies the other man.

“Ken!” Logan’s voice somehow sounds surprised as well as disappointed. “I didn’t think you’d come. Did we close the Vaulter deal?”

Kendall’s stance becomes a bit wooden as he reaches down to accept his father’s embrace. His ex turns to Marcia and hands off a wrapped box with a pleasant smile. The kids run off with Grace’s kid and Kendall stands there looking a bit unsettled as he answers “oh, no, no Dad. They’re still hammering out the details. I took a break to wish you on your birthday. Not sure how many more there might be.” The conversation mills a bit around the two, everyone leans in a bit to hear.

“You did?” Logan repeats with furrowed brows. “Well, where’s your cousin? I thought he’d rather come than you.”

Kendall looks taken aback for a moment. Everyone tries another round of conversation, but Tom simply nods along to other’s words as he tries to figure out information about the cousin. A cousin? Shiv’s never mentioned a cousin being involved in … well, anything.

“Greg?” Kendall asks, his voice uncertain. Logan looks him in the eye and shares a sardonic grin. “Yes, Greg. Unless Marianne happened to suddenly stop by. What’s he doing? Wasn’t he with you this morning?”

Kendall seems to shrink into himself under his father’s gaze. “Greg’s..” he starts and stops for a moment. “Greg’s with the team in the building. He wanted to finish the deal before joining the party.”

“Shame.” Logan says, “But good for him, as soon as we wrap up this deal the better. Anyway, kids, can I talk to you alone for a moment? I just want you to sign something.”

All of them exchange glances with each other, the meaning of which Tom is too novel to understand. All of them quietly follow in the steps of their father. The rest of them stare.

“So,” Marcia says, clapping her hands together. The sound echoes in the eerie silence devoid of birthday wishes. “Let’s get started on lunch shall we?”

—

On the way to the “game” which was highly requested in a cult-like chanting, Tom abruptly turns to Shiv and asks “I didn’t know you had cousin working at Waystar?”

She ceases typing on her phone and looks up with pinched brows, seemingly in thought. Tom watches the city go by in a blur from Shiv’s side of the window and waits. “

“Oh,” She says “You mean Greg? Yeah, he’s like my second cousin. Uncle Ewan’s only grandson, although I don’t think he’s seen them since he was ten? He’s chief strategist at Royco. You’ll see him soon enough when you join.”

A when, not an if. And immediately, Tom’s heart lifts. He fights a grin on his face and catches Shiv’s eye. She smiles a bit, the stress from her face falling away for a second and turns back to her phone.

All was well.

—

All was not well.

Tom kind of looks like an idiot. At least in his own head, he’s been lugging around the watch box the entire evening. Right now, he’s standing behind Logan and Shiv like an obedient puppy waiting for Shiv to call upon him. The rest of the family is setting up the baseball game while the groundskeepers looking on fascinated.

Tom pretty much feels like them.

“So, about Tom,” Shiv says and Logan seems to be considering her words. Tom’s ears pick up, his hands turn sweaty again and he fidgets with the box in his hands. He imagines he can hear the watch tick inside like a time bomb.

“Hmm…” Logan replies, peering out into the distance. Kendall’s already gone into the wind, about half-an-hour ago, his ear glued to the phone talking to “Greg”. Tom waits for that syllable to end and simply waits.

“What do you think about putting him under Greg?”

Despite the short distance between him and the duo, he hears an undercurrent of something sinister his way. Something almost amusingly cruel.

“Wh-why Greg? Isn’t that - like isn’t he already busy with the buyings and everything else? And surely you don’t expect Tom to be his assistant? He’s much more experienced in business.” Shiv’s protest add a bit of tension to his mind.

What was the deal with this Greg? It was almost as if he was some kind of a boogeyman to Shiv and her siblings. But someone that Logan clearly approved of, but there was something very odd about the whole missing cousin.

It was as if being put under the cousin would somehow be bad for him. Geez, was he some kind of a hardass?

“No, no. I’m sure Greg’s not to busy to welcome your boyfriend into the family business. He can help guide Tom and put him in a fitting department. Not to busy to help family.”

Tom expects Shiv to say something. To put off Logan’s plan and for a moment, she does. But instead, she stops and frowns.

A beat.

Tom takes it as his cue to step in with the box.

This better work.

—

#ficlet #part 1 #When Rome Burns #WIP #writing wip #tomgreg #tom x greg #Greg Hirsch #Cousin Greg #Tom Wambsgans #partial Tomshiv #Succession #Succession HBO #alternate universe #AU

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procrastinatorimagines · 4 years

Text

I Want Us Part 6

Fandom: Chicago PD / SVU

Series: I Want Us

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 (Final)

Pairing/s: Sonny Carisi x Intelligence!Reader

Warning/s: tw rape, murder, assault

Word Count: 1,795

Summary: The Intelligence Unit’s last case with Manhattan SVU had them flying out to New York to track down an abducted boy, and had Dectective Y/L/N and Detective Carisi growing close in the process. Now, a string of rape-murders in Chicago has SVU boarding the next flight out, believing the suspect to be the same man responsible for a set of identical crimes 10 years prior. As the case unfolds, Y/N and Carisi are brought back together, reigniting the spark between them.

You arrived at the previous night’s crime scene a few minutes before Special Victims, slipping on gloves and treating carefully as CSI went over everything they’d found, or didn’t find more accurately, with you. You were knelt down next to where they’d recovered the body, a grim look plastered on your face as you took in every detail of the victim, she almost didn’t look real.

“Detective Y/L/N,” you heard, standing up and turning you attention towards the woman ducking under the crime scene tape and making her way towards you.

“Captain Benson, welcome back to Chicago,” you greeted, meeting her in the middle and shaking her hand, “sorry it isn’t under better circumstances.”

“Oh, believe me, it never is,” she informed you, eyes drifting from you to the body of Jessica Connors with a mixture of sorrow and determination that made you admire her even more than you already did. You still didn’t know how they did these kinds of cases everyday.

Sonny and Kat came through after their Captain. “Hey Y/N, I hear we’re borrowing you from Intelligence for this case,” Kat said.

“You don’t mind that I asked Voight for you to join us do you?” Benson asked, your eyes unconsciously sliding to Sonny as she did. He hadn’t said anything yet, but a small smile was forming on his lips as he looked at you.

“Of course not, anything I can do to help,” you replied.

“Glad to have you then,” Sonny voiced with a grin, ignoring the pointed look Kat gave the both of you.

“You up to speed on the new victims?” You asked, noticing the way Benson was looking at Jessica’s body, CSI just finishing up at the scene.

“Yeah we are,” she told you, her tone and the familiarity in her eyes suggesting that she actually had worked the first case in New York. She noticed you staring and shook the thoughts from her head.

“We’ll catch him this time,” you said, meeting her gaze.

“Will will,” she nodded, looking around at the scene with a Captain’s eye, “Kat and I will talk to CSI, match up any details, see if we can pick up any leads, you and Carisi talk to any witnesses, the officers first on scene, and the man who found the body,” she ordered, turning to go talk to CSI with Kat when she had your confirmation.

“Hey,” Carisi said with a smile when you were both alone.

“Hey yourself,” you replied, “how was the flight?”

“Not too bad, reading up on this case certainly passed the time,” he said, hesitating before adding in a quieter voice: “I was also... looking forward to seeing you again.”

You felt your cheeks go a little red, remembering yourself as you cleared your throat. “We should, um, get on with our orders,” you managed, flustered by the look in his eyes.

He smirked but agreed, gesturing for you to lead the way to where a man of about 35-40 was stood with two uniforms. He was a bit on the shorter side, dark hair and bright white running gear on, not the most practical for a run in the woods, as made apparently by the mud stains. The long scar across his face was distinctive, but you tried not to stare as you made your approach.

“Mr Tate?” Carisi asked, checking his notes briefly to make sure as the man nodded, the unis leaving you to talk to the him. “Thanks for sticking around.”

“You mind if we ask you a couple of questions?” You asked, pulling out your notebook and a pen.

“Of course detectives, anything to help,” he told you both, running a hand through his hair, “I’ve already told the officers that arrived on scene everything I saw.

“We know, but we just want to make sure all our bases are covered,” Carisi clarified.

“Ask away,” Tate spread out his arms, ready for you to begin. Carisi looked to you, signaling you to begin.

“Do you always run this route?” You asked, looking around at the well worn and clearly marked path; the killer wanted the body to be found.

“Yeah, it’s quite a popular trail,” he confirmed, rubbing at a bit of mud on the sleeve of his jumper.

“You see anyone else?” Carisi asked. It was a pretty wide path, and it didn’t diverge much, the killer would have had to use this trail to move Jessica’s body.

“Just another jogger,” he told you with a shrug, something that probably wasn’t very uncommon, even later in the evening.

“But they didn’t see the body?” You probed further, finding it strange. Jessica wasn’t exactly hidden, she’d practically been on full display of the path, anyone would have seen her from where you were.

“I don’t know... I guess not, they were running past me, so I’d be surprised if they didn’t but...” He answered, you and Carisi sharing an identical look as you put a circle around this other jogger in your notes.

“Remember what he was wearing?” Carisi asked for some clarification as Tate scratched his head, thinking.

“Er, black tracksuit, baseball cap, oh and glasses too, like sun glasses, I thought that was strange given how dark it was,” he recalled, your suspicion growing further with each detail.

“White... black...?” Carisi continued, making sure you didn’t miss any detail about your new suspect.

“White, definitely, had a rucksack on too,” Tate said, face scrunched up in thought.

“You were seen him running here before?” You mused, knowing killers sometimes prefered places that were familiar.

“I don’t think so,” he answered somewhat apologetically, “expensive shoes like those... I’d have noticed. Does that help?”

You and Carisi nodded to each other before you took a card out of your pocket, “it does, thank you, get in touch if you think of anything else.”

He took the card, looking over it before slipping it into his pocket, “will do.” He turned to leave, glancing back at the crime scene one last time, Carisi gesturing for the unis to make sure he got back okay.

“Security cameras?” Carisi suggested, reading your mind as your eyes scanned the surrounding area carefully. There wasn’t any this far into the trail, you weren’t that lucky.

“We should check the entrace and exit, if there are only the two ways onto this route then they had to have gone back to one of the car parks, we’ll check the cameras there,” you told him, pocketing your notes and heading back to Benson and Kat.

“You got something?” She asked as you approached.

“Maybe, we’re going to go see what we can find on the nearest security cameras,” Carisi told her, filling her in on everything the witness had just revealed.

“The park ranger can help, he’s with a couple of officers,” she said, a distant and guardedly hopeful look in her eyes. This was as close as anyone had gotten.

You both went off with the park ranger, being led back up the trail to the car park and the rangers station. It was a quiet morning, not surprising given the amount of cop cars and crime scene tape. You’d certainly find a different route if you saw it.

He led you into the station, his partner already having the tape set up to play. “This your guy?” He asked, hitting play as you and Carisi leaned forward, watching intently.

It was dark, but the time stamp matched up as a dark figure emerged from the direction you’d just walked, his jogging slowing to a walk as he approached an equally dark car. The description matched the one Tate had just given you.

“Can you zoom in on that?” You asked, pointing to the number plate on the car. The ranger nodded, pausing the footage and focusing in on the plate. “Got it,” you nodded, Carisi already calling in for a BOLO on the car, a bentley, a long with as good of a description of the driver as he could in the dim light.

“Thanks guys,” Carisi told them as you exited the station, stepping back into the car park as you made your way towards the stop where the bentley had been parked.

Carisi was about to say something to you when your phone rang, digging it out to see Hailey calling. “Hey, how’s it going with Jessica’s family? We think we’ve caught a lead here,” you relayed to her.

“Yeah we heard the BOLO over the radio, got something that might help you with that too,” she told you, a questioning look from Carisi as you put it on speaker for him to hear.

“Oh yeah? What did the family know?” You asked, your aching for them and what they were going through.

“The parents didn’t know much, but when the little sister let us out she mentioned that Jess had been planning to go on a date the last time she’d seen her, about a week a go now,” Hailey explained, the cogs in your mind whirling.

“About the same time we found Lily Hamilton’s body?” You checked, thinking that maybe the killer had swapped one woman out for another.

“You got it,” Hailey confirmed grimly, “and get this, the sister said that Jess had been super excited, saying she’d found her prince charming.” She emphasised the last words, the images of the fanciful ball gowns all the women had been dressed in fresh in your mind.

You heard Jay calling Hailey from somewhere further away, “okay, thanks, we’ll meet you back at the district,” you said, saying your goodbyes and hanging up.

“Prince charming?” Carisi echoed, clearing piecing it together the same as you.

“Sounds like it fits, let’s check if any of the other girls had dates,” you suggested, taking out your car keys.

“I think I read something about that in a couple of the old New York files,” he agreed, following you to your car as he typed away on his phone, most likely telling Benson the plan.

“Looks like we’ve got some work to do,” you told him with a little bit of hope, “guess you’re going to be stuck we me for a bit.”

Carisi grinned, “I can’t say that I mind.” You smiled as you reached your car, more than glad for the company.

Still, something didn’t sit right with you. Not that you didn’t like easy cases, but this... it was too neat, too quick. 9 women dead in New York without so much as a trace of evidence and this lead just falls in your lap?

You couldn’t quite put your finger on what you were missing, but if it helped stop other women from meeting the same fate, you were going to find out.

#sonny carisi #svu #law and order svu #chicago pd #one chicago #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi imagine #svu imagine #law and order svu imagine #chicago pd imagine #sonny carisi imagines #svu imagines #law and order svu imagines #chicago pd imagines #i want us

114 notes · View notes

soliverse · 4 years

Text

say you love me - l.ty (part 5)

1 ⭒ 2 ⭒ 3 ⭒ 4 ⭒ 5 ⭒ finale pt 1

pairing: rockstar!taeyong x journalist!reader

genre: a smidge of angst, fluff, and humor, slow burn

warnings: a bit of cussing, possible mental illness, minor injury, and stalking (flashback to what happened in part 4)

word count: 3330

ps: It’s finally back! The story took a bit of a back seat because an ask made me realize that I have been neglectful in making sure that my stories don’t give everyone the wrong impression. If you (or someone you know) is ever feeling the same things or going through the same stuff as the main character, please do not ignore them and seek for professional help. I have removed the said part in question and I apologize if I gave out the wrong impression about mental health and treatment.

I promise to do better in the future.

With that out of the way, I hope you enjoy this one!

networks: @nctcreations @kdiarynet @kpopscape

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You leaned on the couch and took gulps of icy water, letting out a refreshed sigh. After placing the glass back to the table, you tossed your head back and closed your eyes to calm yourself down. It was the first time that you’re able to breathe normally for the whole day.

“I’ll be fine. It’s just a bruise.” He tried to reassure you by smiling like he usually does but he flinched upon moving his right arm. Your tripod had hit him on his right shoulder and it unfortunately left a baseball sized mark on that spot. You slapped yourself with both hands and rubbed it on your face at your frustration.

“I didn’t know that you’re coming home tonight.” Strength has left your body already as you let your guard down. Even speaking up takes a portion of your energy.

“You would if you’d read my message earlier.” He takes a sip with his uninjured arms and made the “ahh” sound before setting his glass right next to yours.

The guilt had made you quiet. The only thing that you did was grab the pillow beside you and bury your face in it.

Your thoughts have started to bother you again. Yuta. Work. Your mental health. Taeyong…

Taeyong felt that something else going on more than what you’re letting. He had always come home late but this was the first time that he had seen you freak out.

“You alright?”

Underneath the pillow, you shook your head as an answer.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No…”

You do want to talk about it, but something is making you hesitate. This man right beside you probably have never seen you this low before. Opening up to people is hard enough, even more so when it’s about your deepest secret.

Taeyong remained quiet and just sat there, unable to do anything. He can feel how hard it is for you to open up to people. Talking about it might trigger something again. However, it bothered him to see you so distressed and yet he can’t do something about it.

“Would you like me to… hold your hand?”

He mustered up the courage to ask you that question. Usually, he’d opt for a hug since it was more comforting. But at your delicate state, it was but that’s all he can do. He mirrored your position and tossed his back, lying on the body of the sofa. He stared at the ceiling nervously as he awaits your reaction.

“Yes…”

You voice sounded breathy; your heartbeat started increasing its speed again. Somehow, the idea of hand-holding sounded a bit too good in your head. Knowingg about Taeyong though, he’s doing it with good intentions

You felt his soft hands interlocking with yours. It was slow and calculating, careful of how you would react to his touch. His slim and veiny hand is successful in making you feel more comfortable.

It stayed like that for a while until you have finally convinced yourself to speak up. You placed the pillow on your lap and hugged it with your other arm.

“It’s him again…”

He remained quiet, listening intently and letting you speak at your own pace.

“I thought I have already gotten over this. I thought I can completely forget about everything and move on with my life.”

You felt yourself tearing up. Breathing hard, you tried to collect yourself before speaking up again. I did forget about him though; I did get some of my life back after the past few years. But what bothered me was it only takes one mention of his name and every confidence that I’ve built up for the last couple of years went straight out of the window…”

You went quiet and tried to smile at Taeyong as you hold back your tears. It felt good to have let everything out to someone. It felt like bricks were lifted off your chest at that instant.

“Y/N, I… I’m sorry.” You felt his sincerity pouring out of his words.

“I didn’t know what you have gone through, nor I do I know how to help you out.”

He turned to your side and gave you the most healing smile that you’ve ever seen.

“But you should know that you’re already doing so well. Facing traumatic paths and recovering from them are never-ending processes. That’s just how life goes, Y/N…”

You felt his grip on your hand getting tighter, rubbing itself on your palm as it adjusts.

“We just have to keep trying, Y/N. And never ever be ashamed that you need help from others. There are a lot people that are with you to support you. Get the proper help that you need without thinking much into it, hmm?”

He said as he was patting your head, trying to comfort you at the best of his abilities. You smiled as you stretched your arms out for a hug in. Something that he obligingly did.

You have started to realize that you have never let anyone seen you like this before. Opening up to people made you feel weak and vulnerable. You hated how people will look at you pityingly after sharing, making you feel like a lost cause even more.

And then there’s Taeyong.

Guilt started creeping in. He’s right, there are a lot of people that are just waiting for you to open up so they can help you. It’s not fair that your roommate is slowly becoming your hurt locker.

What you actually need right now is therapy, not him.

///

Another day comes and a knock can be heard in Johnny’s apartment that afternoon. He wasn’t expecting anyone and so he immediately assumes that it’s one of his bandmates. Specifically, the hopeless romantic, Lee Taeyong.

“Dude, I know it’s you. Just come in.”

Taeyong opened the door and as usual, he found Johnny sitting comfortably at his couch while watching some movie at Netflix. He would always hang around Johnny’s place whenever he wants to give you some time alone. It had been happening for quite some time now that Johnny had just gotten used to him being around all the time.

Taeyong placed his backpack down carefully and then sat down besides Johnny, careful not to touch his injury.

“So, something happened again huh?”

Johnny punched Taeyong jokingly in the shoulder, making him screech in pain.

“Watch the damn shoulders!” Taeyong’s hand rubbed the bruised shoulder and tried not to tear up in front of the elder.

Johnny, being the considerate friend that he is, laughed at Taeyong’s reaction.

“Dude, what happened to you?”

He said with zero hints of being concerned at all. It seems like he’s enjoying seeing his friend in that state.”

“A lot.”

“Oh, I could do this all day…”

Johnny sang one of their songs as a joke, but he retracted upon seeing Taeyong a little pissed off.

“Long story short, Y/N thought I was her stalker and tried to beating me to a pulp before I can stop her.” Taeyong said as he stretches out his arms, trying the shake the pain off of it. He also stopped the movie that Johnny was playing and grabbed his backpack. He took out his PS5 console and started setting it up at Johnny’s living room.

“Sounds like a rough night. Anything else happened?”

“Uhh. We held hands?”

Johnny snorted at younger’s answer.

“What are you? Twelve?”

He got off the sofa and sat right next to Taeyong, grabbing another console so that the two of them can play together.

“I don’t know, man. She’s in a pretty bad state last night. I don’t know how else I could help her. That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about…”

Taeyong placed the console down. His expression turned grim and his voice sounded a lot more serious.

“I think someone is at the house last night.”

///

“Here’s your stop. I’m sorry I couldn’t drop you off by Y/N’s apartment. The street was small and it would be difficult to turn the van around.”

“It’s totally fine. Walking won’t hurt me.”

Taeyong grabbed his duffel bag and his guitar from the backseat and steps outside the vehicle. He waved at them goodbye before the van went back to the road. He adjusted the straps of his guitar case and duffel bag so he can carry them both comfortably as he begins to walk towards your place.

It was eerily quiet at that time and something just didn’t feel right. He tried to shake the feeling off and increasing his walking pace. It didn’t take long before he can see the building from a distance.

He didn’t know if he was just imagining things but he could’ve sworn that he saw a dark figure lurking in the darkness surrounding your apartment. He muttered a series of curses made a run for it.

Taeyong sprinted as fast as he can, but his stuff had definitely slowed him down. Now he had gotten closer, he’s unsure whether he actually saw someone. His vision wasn’t that bad, but he was sure that there’s a figure moving towards the house.

He looked everywhere, even going around the house just to make sure that there’s no one nearby. Just then, you saw someone leaning at the lamppost a few blocks over. He wasn’t there when you passed by the van earlier.

The realization had hit him like a truck. That person is definitely the one that you saw earlier.

You were about to walk towards his direction when the person started running away again. You just froze on your spot, knowing that catching him was impossible.

Feeling defeated, the first thing that he did was to go inside the house to make sure you’re okay.

Taking his keys out of his bag, he opened the door to find the house completely fine. Everything was turned off except for the lights coming out of your room.

He was about to walk towards your room to check if you’re still awake when…

///

"HOLD ON! HOLD THE GODDAMN SECOND."

A voice came out in the middle of your storytelling. It was from woman who just came out of Johnny's bedroom and looking visibly pissed. Taeyong’s mouth went agape when she saw who it was.

She wasn't someone that you'd expect to pop up in Johnny's apartment. She was wearing her usual office clothing but its state wasn't as neat as how she always does it. Her hair was disheveled and her pink is blouse crumpled, a couple of buttons are undone.

"Abegail Li?" His mouth felt like it would drop to the floor.

On the other side, Johnny was grinning widely over his seat.

“Abby? What are you doing in my apartment?” Johnny faked a gasp but dropped the act right after to laugh at his joke.

"You're dating Abby Li? Like, Ten's sister? You know, your childhood bestfriend?" Tae still can’t believe what he was seeing. He kept on looking back and forth at the two of them, completely mindblown at the unusual pairing.

"Would you like to answer that, my dear?"

Johnny teasingly said, wiggling his eyebrows at her to piss her more. She finally realized how she looked and fixed herself, completely annoyed at her boyfriend.

"Shut the fuck up, Mr. Suh. That's not the point here! It's the fact that Y/N is in danger last night and she didn't even bother to tell me!”

"Dude, I didn't even know that she's your type. Does Yongqin know?" Taeyong asked his hyung, completely ignoring Abby’s tantrum.

"Oh heavens, no. The only thing scarier than this woman is his brother."

“HEY!”

Her voice finally managed to pierce into the boys’ conversation.

“We have an actual problem here. Are we not supposed to talk about the Yuta situation? Y/N’s life could actually be in actual danger!”

“But we weren’t sure if it was actually him…” Taeyong said, his voice lowering from the fear of the woman’s gaze.

“And what if it is?” She said as she walked out of the living room to go somewhere. The two boys just sat there awkwardly until she comes back with a phone in her hand.

“We got to tell Sophie and her husband.” She says as she started frantically dialing Sophie’s number.

“Woah woah. Calm down woman.” Johnny stood up from his seat and grabbed the phone from her hands.

“We don’t have to involve police officer Jaehyun right away. Dude is scary af.”

Abby tried to get it from Johnny, but he just raised his arm up so she wouldn’t reach it.

“Give my phone back!”

She shouts but Johnny just laughed at the sight of this pissed, tiny woman that’s in front of him. Abby didn’t like that one bit so she backed up a bit and punched Johnny at his core. Johnny curled up from the pain and fell to floor, giving Abby a chance to get her phone back.

Meanwhile, Taeyong just sat there awkwardly as he watched the scene unfolds. It felt like he’s watching a real-life sitcom.

“Babe, I was just saying, stop overreacting.” Johnny picked himself up from the floor. His voice is hoarse from the pain in his body.

“No, I am not overreacting. Me overreacting is when I hit that punk with a ten-wheeler truck and then leave him in the streets to die!”

Taeyong looked horrified, but Johnny just mouthed she’s not really gonna do that at him.

Jesus. This couple is a shitshow.

“Fine. What do you suggest we do then?”

Abby calmed down a bit as she sat down at the couch, folding both of her hands at her chest.

“First, we tell her what you saw last night.”

///

Well, Abby meant we, she actually meant Taeyong. He was assigned (more like forced) by Abby to be the one to talk to you about what happened. It felt awkward to do so at first, but it was him who saw what happened. He felt like it was his job to tell you about what happened.

He begrudgingly packed his PlayStation back to his backpack as he was being lectured by Abby about what to say to you. All hopes of evading topics involving you that day is completely thrown out of the table. And then he started to walk away when the couple finally started going lovey-dovey after fighting at his whole stay there. It was so cheesy that it gave him a headache.

The guy decided to walk home instead of taking the bus or taxi that time. He even passed by some convenience stores at the way. He bought a pack of instant ramen and took it to the nearby park. He actually enjoyed just eating there while looking at the sunset, but something kept on bothering him the whole time. He’s just dragging out the time, possibly going home when you’re completely asleep so he wouldn’t have to face you. He dreaded to be the one to instigate fear in you once again, knowing that mentions of your ex’s name is enough to trigger a panic attack.

But eventually, time passed and he’s in front of your apartment once again. He took a couple of breaths and readied him for what he’s about to tell you. As soon as he opened the door though, he was surprised to see you in the living room. Not only are you awake, you’re completely dressed up and looked like you’re about to go somewhere.

“Oh hi, Taeyong.”

You turned around to see him, at the front door, looking completely dejected.

“You alright?”

To Taeyong, you looked much better than what you did last night. Your mood has changed dramatically. It seems like you’re doing much better than what he thought you would. This made him even more anxious at what he’s about to tell you. He would’ve hated to ruin your mood that night. And so, the mental debate in his head started to ensue.

You smiled, waiting for Taeyong to answer, but he looked like he dozed off for a moment.

“Hey. Are you alright?”

You said once again.

Finally, he was able to snap back into reality. However, he wasn’t sure whether he heard you correctly. Now he looked a lot more puzzled than what he is earlier.

“Uhh. Okay… If you’re hungry, food is in the fridge.”

You said as you walked back to your room.

He responded with “Yeah. Sure. Thank you, Y/N…” You felt like something is bothering him at that moment, but you don’t have the time for a conversation right now.

While you were gone, he’s still figuring out whether he should tell you now or he’ll just wait until you get home that night.

However, his plan shattered immediately when he saw you walking out with two luggage, one on each hand.

“Hey Tae, mind helping with these?”

“O-oh sure…”

He stood up from the couch and helped you drag the luggage out into the living room.

“I never got to tell you that I’m leaving because it was more of a spur of the moment kind of thing.”

You apologetically as you pull your bags into the driveway. You know that by leaving, you’re running away from him again. But this time, it’s actually for your own good. It’s finally time to get the help that you need.

“Uhm, where are you going?”

Taeyong asked you, trying his best not to panic knowing that Abby would kill him if he said that he never got the chance to tell you.

“Far away. Staying in this city is making me feel uncomfortable and that isn’t doing me any favors. I need some time for myself until, I don’t know, two to three weeks?”

“Oh wow…”

He felt speechless at how you just made up your mind like that. He doesn’t think that running away from everything will solve anything, but he felt like there was nothing that he can do in order to change your mind.

“What about about work?” He asked, trying to stall you from bringing your luggage out of the apartment.

“I… took an indefinite leave from work this morning.”

You took your phone out of your pocket to look at the time to hide your face from him. For some reason, this decision isn’t looking as good as you have imagined it.

“So, you’re actually serious about this, huh?”

“I’m really sorry for leaving without notice. Take good care of Felice for me while I’m gone, okay?”

You said as you took your luggage from his hand. He unhappily lets it go, but he understands that you have to go through this so you can get better. Defeated, he figured that the best that he could do for you right now is to call a cab. However, you stopped him just as soon as you figured out what he was doing.

“I won’t be riding the cab. Someone’s coming to pick me up.”

Sure enough, a car pulled up outside your apartment not long after.

“Jeno! Over here!”

The driver rolled the windows down and a manly figure showed itself to the both of you. His hair was icy blue, which was perfect because he looks cold, expression stern as he opened up the car door for you. He doesn’t look threatening, but his stare made Taeyong feel like the guy doesn’t like him at all.

Jeno helped you with your luggage. As soon as they’re in the backseat, you didn’t waste any more time and waved goodbye to Taeyong before hopping inside the car. He was left alone without having to say a proper goodbye to you.

He unconsciously walked back inside the house, not really knowing what to feel. Could you be dating a guy without him knowing?

He slumped at the sofa and stared at the ceiling for a moment.

Who the hell is Jeno?

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#nctcreations #kdiarynet #kpopscape #nct #nct 127 #nct u #superm #lee taeyong #taeyong #taeyong fic #taeyong au #johnny suh #ten lee #jeno lee

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ellewritesathing · 4 years

Text

So Close - S.S. XLVII

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 47

Word-count: 6.3k+

A/N: apologies for disappearing friends!! i’ve finally finished writing all the parts for 6a so i should queue them up for regular content again soon (also i’m pretty sure i’ve used this gif before but don’t mention it)

Sleeping had always been tricky for you, but after everything you’d seen and all the sacrifices you’d made protecting Beacon Hills, sleep was either short and dreamless or long and full of nightmares.

That night, you dreamt of Stiles.

He was always at the edge of the picture, just out of your view, but you knew it was him. His laugh, his voice, his silhouette. The way the light caught on his hazy figure and sometimes you could just make him out before he disappeared completely.

He always disappeared, but he always made you promise to find him, and you always did. Stiles was starting to fade into the distance again when the alarm tone rang out. It tore you away from him, but not before his hand caught yours and he said, “I can feel you forgetting me.”

The alarm tore him away from you before you could promise to remember Stiles one last time.

When you were sure you couldn't dream of Stiles again, you pulled yourself out of bed and forced yourself to get ready for school. You were already on your second cup of blood-spiked coffee when Mason, Corey, and Liam showed up. You crapped them out for trashing your house but it was largely just to get a laugh and not because you were angry with them. This was the first morning that you weren’t angry, just empty.

Scott broke up your fun before you could get anything really good out of them, and then he asked what Liam wanted to show you guys.

Liam took you to the living room and pointed up at the ceiling where a dark stain rested. There was a dark spot in the center and black tendrils snaking outwards. Definitely not a water stain; it looked almost like tree roots.

“That’s how he got in?” Scott asked.

“Yeah, but what is it?” Liam asked. He looked away from the ceiling to gauge Scott's reaction.

“It’s a Lichtenberg figure,” you said, still staring at the long tendrils that seemed to reach out for something. An image flashed through your mind: these same tendrils snaking up a neck, unusually dark against the pale, sickly skin. Tearing yourself away from the Lichtenberg figure, you folded your arms around yourself. “They, uh- they’re common in lightning strike victims.”

“You knew someone who was struck by lightning?” Liam asked. You felt his eyes on you and curled in on yourself even more.

“No, I-” You shook your head and sighed. “I think so, but I'm not sure ... I don't know.”

“Stiles,” Scott said when you couldn't. You nodded at him and he gave you an encouraging smile in return.

“You can also usually find charred spots like this on the ground after a violent thunderstorm,” Mason said, blissfully unaware of how crappy you felt and continuing the lightning-related thought process.

“So that’s how the Ghost Rider got in,” Scott said. He looked away from you and back to the Lichtenberg figure on the ceiling. “He rode the lightning.”

Liam caught your attention in your peripheral vision. “If they can use the lightning to get past the mountain ash … no place is safe.”

“What about the others?” Corey asked. He sounded panicked. “It’s my fault they’re marked.”

“We’ll find a way to protect them,” Mason said quickly. He looked over at Scott and Scott looked over at you.

“And we’ll find a way to get the others back,” Scott promised.

One of your phones went off and scared the rest of you out of your stupor. You promised to reconvene later on, and split up to head to school. No matter often it happened, it was still jarring to discuss the supernatural special of the week over breakfast and then have to sit through econ and pre-calc.

Still, your friends found you between classes and it was back to piecing together a way to defeat the big bad. Today, it was relics. Specifically, a student ID card belonging to a sophomore named Jake Sullivan.

“Wait, what’s a relic?” Malia asked.

“An object with a fixed associated to the past,” Lydia said. As she spoke, you twisted your signet ring on your finger. It was a nervous habit that you'd picked up whenever you couldn’t turn the Feliscore Arcade coin over itself. “Jake’s ID was left behind after he was taken, and Gwen found her sister’s bracelet on her bedroom floor.”

“How can someone be erased and still leave something behind?” Malia asked.

“A conservation of mass,” Lydia explained. She was incredibly patient with her explanations considering how near-constant they were. “The total mass of any isolated system remains constant.”

“So, even the Ghost Riders have a weakness?” Scott asked.

“And a relic would be proof that Stiles existed,” Malia said.

“And that we can bring him home,” you said, sounding more hopeful than you'd meant.

“Exactly,” Lydia said. “And I think I can find one, but Noah and Claudia-”

“I can take care of Noah,” you said. “Give me the ID and I’ll go talk to him, but I think you should go looking while I do.”

The bell rang and you had to split up, but you and Lydia texted until you settled on a plan. It was a shaky plan, but you needed to talk to Noah and Lydia needed to do her Banshee magic to find something that belonged to Stiles.

So, hesitantly, you borrowed the car from Scott after school and drove yourself to the station. Once you were there, your hand hovered over the key. Once you went in there, everything would change again.

You yanked the key out of the ignition and headed to Noah’s office.

Your explanation of relics was shaky - Lydia could have done it much better - but Noah followed along for most of it. There was only one thing that he was caught on.

“You want to search my house?” Noah asked.

“Yes,” you said. “I know it’s crazy, but if there’s any chance that Stiles left anything behind …”

“Why would it be there? At my house?” Noah asked.

You took a deep breath and looked down at your hands. The light caught on your ring. “Because I heard what Elias said after we left, and my house has really thin walls,” you said quietly. Noah looked confused, so you went on, “I heard what you told Scott about-”

Noah pushed the case file in front of him away and leaned forward in his seat. “About my dream?”

“About your memory.” You looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Please. The worst that can happen is that Lydia doesn’t find anything.”

Noah sighed and rubbed his face. “She’s already at my house, isn’t she?”

“Got there five minutes before I walked in,” you said.

“Dammit, Y/N!” Noah shook his head. “This is just typical. You and Stiles are always-” He stopped dead when he realized what he’d said. He sighed and put his head in his hands.

You pulled one of his chairs closer to the desk and put your hands out for him to hold if he wanted to. “I do it, too, sometimes,” you said softly. “I tell jokes that people don’t understand because they weren’t the ones I shared them with. Whenever I buy food, I buy a pack of Reese’s even though I don’t eat them. Seriously, you- you should see the stash I’ve got. They’re pouring out of my loose floorboard.”

Noah laughed. He pulled his hands away from his face and gave you a sad smile. “You know, last night I couldn’t sleep so I got up. Figured I’d do some paperwork. The files were in the back of my car so I- I went to the garage, and some junk had fallen off a shelf and I stubbed my toe on an old baseball bat. Without thinking, I yelled a name …” he took a deep breath. “Stiles.”

You smiled at him, trying to shove down the tears that threatened to spill. “The other day, Malia wanted me to promise her something, and I said ‘no matter what’ without thinking about it. She didn’t know what it meant but I knew that it was because it was something he and I used to say to one another.”

“Stiles,” Noah said.

“Stiles,” you repeated. “I’ve never actually said his name until now. It felt too, I don’t know-”

“Real,” Noah said for you. You nodded and he sighed again. “And that’s why you’re so determined to find something.”

You tapped the desk a few times as you answered, “Determined to find Stiles. This is just the first step.”

“Okay,” Noah said. He slid the ID back over to you. “Okay, Lydia can search the house.” Then he laughed. “Even though she’s already doing it.”

“Thank you.” You took the ID back and put it into your wallet. Somehow feeling more uncertain than when you came in but still comforted, you said, “I’ll get out of your hair now.”

“Wait, do you- do you maybe want to grab a cup of coffee?” Noah asked. He looked awkward. “I mean, if you have the time.”

“I’d love that,” you said.

It was an awkwardly lovely coffee date. Noah knew the ending to some of your jokes, and you made his coffee the way he liked. Although you didn’t explicitly talk about Stiles, you talked about your grades and the diet he had to go on to help manage his cholesterol, how Mel was doing at work and life at the station. It felt like you’d been doing this for years. Just catching up.

But then your phone buzzed and you had to go help Scott track down Gwen. Even after apologizing a dozen times and Noah assured you that he understood, you still felt guilty as you left him there with two empty coffee cups.

You rushed to the school, listening to Mason’s hasty explanation of how Gwen snuck out of the bunker and Okafur, Steinbach, and Wallace were never in the bunker to begin with. He needed to figure out a way to stop the Ghost Riders and your job was to try and keep him safe until he did.

It wasn’t that hard, considering that nothing was happening aside from the team getting absolutely destroyed on the field.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Mason cheered as one of the players got knocked down to the ground. Everyone around you got mad at him but you tugged on his sleeve to get to sit with you again.

“Hey, what did you realize, boy wonder?” you asked in a low voice.

“The night of the party, Parrish showed up. The Ghost Rider seemed … scared of him, I guess,” Mason said. “And then I remembered the mural.”

“The Hellhound fighting the Beast,” you said slowly. “You think it’s related?”

“It has to be,” Mason said. He sounded more confident than before. “The Hellhound’s a harbinger of death and these guys … I mean, it has to be connected.”

As if on cue, thunder started rolling in the distance. Ignoring the pit in your stomach, you said, “Find Hayden and tell her to call her sister. I’ll make sure nothing happens here.”

Mason dashed off and, after a few minutes of alone time, the wind started picking up. Then the light rain. When the lightning cracked overhead, your eyes darted across the field.

Scott was staring at the sky. He pulled off his helmet as the light rain turned into a downpour. You raced onto the field as players started taking cover. Corey yelled that the Ghost Riders were there, but you couldn’t see them.

The ref was trying to get everyone off the field as you huddled the players together.

“Okay! We’ve got all three, right?” Scott asked.

“Scott, there were four,” you said. Both of you turned to count but you still only came up with three players: Gwen, Okafur, and Steinbach. You saw Scott grab Corey’s hand and did the same. You couldn’t kick the Ghost Riders’ asses until you could see them.

Your grip tightened as you watched one of the Riders drag Wallace off the field as he screamed for his life. Then he just disappeared into a small cloud of green smoke.

“Oh my god!” Okafur yelled. “They’re real! We’ve gotta get out of here!”

“Stay together. We’ll protect you,” Liam promised. He wasn't as confident as Mason had been.

“How?” Gwen asked.

You followed her eyes to the quickly approaching group of Riders. There were just three of them but you knew you wouldn’t stand a chance against them. Scott told you all to run but the second you did, three more Riders showed up to block your path.

“Stay close!” Liam yelled, pulling the players behind him.

It didn’t help. They shot Okafur and he disappeared, just like Wallace.

Corey moved out of your grip but you could still see them. So could Scott. As one of the Riders readied their gun, you weren’t entirely sure whether seeing them was a good thing or not.

Liam tackled him before he could shoot but it was just an inconvenience for the Rider. He kicked Liam off of him. Scott jumped forward to protect him, but as soon as he moved another Rider shot Steinbach. He was gone.

“We can’t stop ‘em! Protect Gwen!” Scott bore his fangs at the Riders.

You did the same but you were so focused on the Riders that you didn’t notice Gwen slipped past Corey. The Riders shot her and she disappeared. In a few seconds, the Riders were gone, too.

The four of you stood in the field until the rain stopped, none of you managing to say anything.

“Hey,” you said to break the silence. The rain was clearing up. “Let’s go find Mason and Hayden. He might have an idea on how to end this.”

They nodded and you rushed back to the school. Mason and Hayden were fine. Parrish didn’t fight the Ghost Rider but it left them alone before disappearing just like the rest of them.

“Everyone from the bunker has been taken,” Scott said as he got off the phone with Malia.

“Everyone? How?” Mason asked.

“It doesn’t matter how,” Scott said. “Malia’s at the hospital and Argent’s been hurt. My mom’s with them.”

“I’ll go check on them,” you said. Looking over to Liam and the others, you added, “You guys get cleaned up, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Scott said with a nod.

You found Lydia at the hospital before you found Malia or your mom. She told you about Claudia’s frontotemporal dementia and how it should have killed her by now and you caught her up about the Ghost Riders taking everyone from the party.

The two of you found Scott and Malia before either of you got to talk about Stiles.

“Tell us you found something,” Scott said.

“I found out Claudia never had children,” Lydia said, dropping her eyes for a second. “So, Stiles can’t be her son.”

“What about a relic?” Malia asked.

Lydia shook her head and you looked down at your hands. You twisted the ring on your finger, so sure it was connected but not sure enough that it could be a relic. Tied to him, maybe, like Noah was. But not something that belonged to Stiles.

“There never was a Stiles, was there?” Malia asked, as gently as she could.

It was quiet. Scott broke it by saying, “It doesn’t even sound like a real name.”

“We have to keep looking,” Lydia insisted. Her voice was urgent - the kind of urgency she only got when something was driving her supernatural Geiger counter crazy. “Check the school records again. Or call your dad-”

Malia shook her head. “No, we’re fighting the wrong battle.”

“No, we’re trying to find Stiles,” you said defensively.

“The Ghost Riders came back and we still have no way of stopping them. Whatever they are, they’re real,” Malia said. She was one of the best friends you’d ever had, but she was also cold and fixated on survival. You understood, mostly, but right now it was annoying. “We can’t keep chasing someone who isn’t.”

“Maybe he’s not real to you, but the rest of us actually give a damn,” you snapped. There was a time when you would have felt bad for snapping at them, but this wasn’t the time to feel bad. This was the time to find Stiles.

“Y/N, he didn’t leave anything behind,” Scott said gently.

“Just us,” Lydia said, seeming hollow as she looked up again.

You shook your head and started walking away from them. “This is unbelievable,” you mumbled.

Malia grabbed your arm before you could get very far. “Where are you going?” she asked.

You spun back around and pulled your arm away from her. When you were this upset, her touch burned. “To call Isaac and Cora since you guys don’t care anymore,” you said.

“No one said we didn’t care, we just-” Scott stopped, unsure what to say. “We just can’t keep losing people.”

“I’m not losing anybody else,” you said. “I’m finding him, Scott.”

“Then let’s do it together,” Lydia said, grabbing hold of your hand. Her touch was cold, but it still burned. She gave you a smile and looked back at the others. “Please?”

Malia was reluctant. In the wild, coyotes didn’t have time to track down imaginary best friends. Still, she looked over at Scott before she told you that you were out of your mind.

Taking a deep breath, Scott looked over at you. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll keep looking.”

---

It turned out that while your definition of ‘keep looking’ meant that you’d skip school the next day and get together as a group to discuss everything, Scott’s definition was to go to school and act like nothing happened. In an effort to be slightly less confrontational, you’d gone along with his plan, but it didn’t make you happy.

As hard as it was to believe by your scowl at Scott’s goofy smile when he dropped into the seat across from you at lunch, there was a time not too long ago when you would have at least tried to hide your bad mood from him.

“Get an A on that psych paper?” you asked, stabbing your food with a fork.

“No. Well, A-minus but that’s not the point,” Scott said as he shook his head. He took a breath and leaned forward. In a fake whisper, he explained, “Lydia found something. Malia’s already checking-”

You pushed your tray away and grabbed your bag. “Then why are we sitting here? Let’s go.”

Scott laughed and led you out of the cafeteria and to the parking lot. At first, he didn’t want to explain where he was taking you because he wanted to see your face, but - after some threats to tell Melissa about how the car got that scratch on the bumper - he finally told you about Lydia bribing the tow truck driver. He stopped talking when you reached a powder blue Jeep.

Your heart ached as you tried to remember something, anything, about the Jeep or the person who owned it. You tried to remember Stiles.

When no memory presented itself, you said, “Well. This Jeep isn’t going to search itself,” and pushed past Scott to get to the Jeep.

It wasn’t filthy, just a little dust-covered inside and pollen-coated on the outside. To add to the abandoned feel, the radio was stuck on the wrong frequency and only played static. Ignore how wrong it felt for the Jeep to be like this, you opened the glove compartment and found a red rag, some take-out receipts, and a map of Eichen House. The radio cut out and you froze.

“Why’d it stop?” Malia asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lydia said. Despite her rough tone, she flipped the Master Switch on and off four times before saying softly, “But there has to be a reason.”

Because he was incapable of sitting in silence for more than three seconds, Scott started sniffing. Loudly.

Turning in your seat, you asked, “Did you catch a scent or a cold?”

“A scent,” Scott said and shook his head in an attempt to focus. “Ours. Mine, yours, all four of us.”

“Mine? I’ve never been in this Jeep before,” Malia said, sliding forward in her seat in the back.

Scott shrugged. “Neither have I.”

“Yes, we have,” Lydia said. “We just don’t remember it.”

Malia tilted her head to the side. “I thought we were done with that.”

“You literally promised me last night that we wouldn’t give up,” you said, doing your best not to glare at her.

“No, Scott promised you. I didn’t promise anything,” Malia said.

“Mal, could you for once in your life try to understand when something is important to someone?” you asked. You didn’t mean for the words to come out as harshly as they did, but they were out there and you couldn’t take them back now. You took a deep breath and looked away. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. Can we please just keep looking?”

“I don’t know if there’s anything to look for,” Scott said. “Parrish checked the VIN number and there’s no record of an owner.”

“The Jeep didn’t just drive itself here,” Lydia argued.

Scott looked over to Malia with his ‘they’ve got a point’ face. It reminded you of an argument with Isaac back when he thought the twins were the ones killing people instead of the Darach. You couldn’t remember who the other person in the argument was, so you guessed that meant it had to involve Stiles.

“Oh, whose side are you on?” Malia asked exasperatedly.

Scott looked at you, then he looked at Lydia, and then Malia, and then back at you again. “I’m on everyone’s side,” he said eventually.

Malia and Lydia started arguing over whether or not Stiles was real again, so you continued your search of the glovebox to help tune them out. Your hands froze over the Jeep’s registration papers.

“Guys, I think I found something,” you said, not caring what you might have interrupted. You unfolded the paper and leaned closer so Scott could read over your shoulder. “It’s from 1996.”

“But there’s no name,” Scott said.

“Yeah, but look at the address,” you said. “It’s Noah’s.”

---

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Claudia said after reading over the Jeep’s registration papers. “I haven’t seen that Jeep in … almost eighteen years.” She looked over at Noah for confirmation and he nodded slightly.

“But it’s in your name,” you said. “You never went looking for it?”

“It was stolen.” Claudia shrugged. She was either a very good liar or she really didn’t know anything.

“Then how did it end up at the high school?” Lydia asked.

Noah shook his head and opened his hands. “Beats the hell out of me,” he said with his trademarked sigh. “I mean, that thing was a junker back in the day. God only knows who’d want it now.”

Something about how flippantly Noah talked about the Jeep tugged at your heartstrings. “Someone with a sense of whimsy?” you asked with only a touch of your usual venom.

“I- I guess,” Claudia said with another small shrug. “I don’t know, girls. Maybe somebody dumped it there?”

Stiles would never abandon the Jeep, you almost screamed. You let out a low growl that reminded you uncomfortably of Malia and took a breath to recover.

Lydia set an uncertain hand over yours to calm you down. She turned back to the Stilinskis and asked, “Is there any way to trace the history of the Jeep after it was stolen?”

“No,” Noah said, frowning at the idea of how that would even be possible.

“Can’t you check for fingerprints at the station?” you asked.

Claudia looked over at Noah and shifted slightly closer to the edge of her seat. Noah met her eye and sighed again. “Is this about Stiles?” he asked.

“Can you please just check the Jeep for prints?” you asked, doing your best to keep your voice even and detached.

“Don’t you girls think you’ve taken this far enough?” Claudia asked. She reached out for Noah’s hand as she asked, but it seemed less like a move of solidarity and more like a reminder that she was there. She handed the registration details back to Lydia with her other hand. “I don’t really know what’s going on with you lately,” she said to Lydia, “but maybe it’s a good time to talk to your mom.”

Instead of telling Claudia that she was way out of line, Lydia just pulled her hand away from you, dropped her gaze, and nodded. “I’m sorry. You’re right,” she said quietly. She looked up again and flashed Noah a bright, dishonest smile.

“Hey, are you okay?” Noah asked.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Can you just …” Lydia shook her head. You knotted your hands together to keep from reaching out to comfort her. “Um, do you mind-” she pointed to the hall where the bathroom was.

“Of course. Take your time.” Claudia nodded. She didn’t even make it through her sentence before Lydia was on her feet and heading down the hall. Shaking her head, Claudia turned back to you. “You’re a good friend for being there for her, but be careful not to encourage Lydia too much,” she said. “You know how unstable she can be.”

You swallowed hard to keep from snapping at her. All you could bring yourself to say was: “Lydia’s a genius.”

“There’s a fine line between genius and insanity,” Claudia told you with a heavy look.

You’d been squeezing your hands together tightly to keep yourself grounded, but Claudia’s words made you squeeze so tightly that you could smell blood. “I’m going to go check on Lydia,” you said as you rose to your feet.

Noah called out to you but you told him it was fine and kept walking. You could hear him and Claudia whispering after you left; he thought she was too harsh on you guys, she thought you needed someone to stop enabling you, you stopped listening when you found Lydia slumped in the hallway crying.

You knelt in front of her and fumbled for her hands with one hand and cupped her face with the other. “Hey. Hey, Lyd, you’re okay,” you said gently. “We’re gonna find him, okay?”

“How?” she asked, voice tight through the tears. Her eyes darted down the hall. “How are we gonna find him?”

You faltered. A beat passed and you knew whatever you said next would sound fake. “I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t know, but we’re going to find him. I promise we’ll find him, alright? No matter what.”

Lydia went still for a second. “No matter what,” she whispered. It sounded like a question when she said it. “Why are you saying that to me?”

“I don’t understand,” you said, pulling back slightly in surprise. You suspected the saying had something to do with Stiles, but you had no proof and it wasn't like Lydia could tell you anything for certain. “Why does it matter?”

“Because it does,” Lydia said. She looked down the hall again and squeezed your bloody hand. “We need to go. Now.”

Lydia didn’t wait to answer any of your questions. She pulled herself up and basically dragged you out of the Stilinski’s house, apologizing for the intrusion and thanking them again for their time as if they’d actually done something helpful.

Once Lydia had safely buckled you into the passenger seat, she started the engine and pulled out of the driveway at such a speed that you were sure Noah would call you about the tire tracks. She explained, briefly, that she was having one of her feelings and you needed to get back to the school. To the Jeep.

You didn’t argue. You never argued with Lydia’s feelings, especially not when they had anything to do with Stiles. She seemed to be the only person who still wanted to find him, and you trusted that together you and she would find him.

It’s not that you expected to find Stiles sitting in the Jeep when you got to the school - even if a tiny piece of you hoped you would - but you weren’t expecting to find a tow truck driver trying to shake down Scott for more money.

“-Now I’m picking it up again,” the tow truck driver said as you and Lydia ran up to them.

“How much do you want? I’ll write you a check,” Lydia said.

“It’s not about how much. They want it out of here, okay? So it’s not up to me,” the driver said. He moved closer to the Jeep to attach it to his truck but Scott stepped in his way. Scott had never seemed intimidating to you - a byproduct of seeing him laugh so hard that milk sprayed out of his nose when he was five - but he looked intimidating at that moment. “Don’t make me move you, kid, okay? I’m hooking this thing up. And I am towing it away.”

Scott clenched his fist and you got ready to intervene, but Malia broke off a piece of the tow truck before anything escalated that far.

Malia handed the broken connector to the tow truck driver. “Your truck’s broke,” she said.

After some particularly nasty words, the tow truck driver stormed off and left your friends laughing in his absence. It was only a few seconds of laughter, but you felt a little lighter after a win - even if it was a small win.

“So what now?” Scott asked.

“I mean, he’s probably just going to come back in the morning,” you said. You looked at the Jeep over your shoulder and sighed. It looked so impossibly lonely in the dark parking lot. “Do you guys want to stay here for a while?”

“No,” Malia said, at the same time Lydia said: “Absolutely.”

Scott got that awkward look on his face when he had to choose between his friends. “Five minutes?” he suggested. “Just to make sure no one else comes back.”

“Fine,” Malia said begrudgingly. “But I’m not sitting in the back.”

“Deal!”

You and Scott sprawled into the backseat while Malia took the passenger seat and Lydia sat in the driver’s seat. Sitting behind the driver’s seat like this, you could almost picture Stiles sitting there. He always sat there, except when something was incredibly wrong or the time when he taught you to drive.

The memory of learning to drive was still fuzzy and disjointed in your mind, but that’s how you knew it was him. Stiles was in so many of your memories that without him it felt like your whole life was fuzzy.

You were still trying to piece together the fuzzy memories when a roar tore through your ears. A strained, agonizing roar. Whoever that roar belonged to was dying. You bolted out of Scott’s arm and clambered over him and the seats to get out.

“Did you hear that?” Malia asked. She’d been too uncomfortable in the Jeep after a few minutes so she'd stood guard outside.

“I think all of Beacon Hills heard that,” Lydia said.

“Who is it?” Scott asked.

“I’m not sure, but I think I recognized it,” Malia said.

Despite the very distinct and unexplained feeling that Stiles was human, Malia’s recognition sent electricity down your spine. “Let’s go find out,” you said, looking over at her for a second before taking off towards the preserve.

Finding whoever roared was clumsy. There was no scent and they hadn’t roared again since. You were still looking for the injured wolf when you tripped over the burnt body. Despite your badass shadow-wolf status, you screamed and scurried to your feet.

They let out a roar in response to your accidental kick to their ribs and you dropped next to them to check that you hadn’t just killed them. From the second you focused on them, you knew that it wasn’t Stiles.

“Hey, you’re okay,” you said gently. You reached out for his hand to take away their pain. Their hand wouldn’t open so you moved to their arm and started taking away their pain from there.

It hurt so much that you didn’t even notice that Malia and Scott got there until Scott put his hand on your shoulder and the burnt werewolf grabbed Malia’s arm. You pulled your hand away so fast that you took bits of burnt skin with you.

“Peter?” Malia asked.

He struggled to say something but nothing came out.

“Who’s Peter?” Scott asked.

“Peter Hale,” Malia said, not looking away from the burnt werewolf. He struggled again to say something. “My dad.”

“Your dad?” you repeated. Your voice ached from taking away his pain. “Peter Hale. That makes him Derek’s brother. I don’t- how could I forget Derek’s brother?”

A distorted voice broke through your internal crisis. “You were my beta first,” Peter forced out. His voice triggered something in Scott; a memory, you guessed. You didn’t remember anything.

Scott stuttered out Peter’s name. “He bit me,” Scott said. “How could I forget him?”

“How could I forget him?” Malia asked.

Peter looked more pained with the knowledge that Malia had forgotten him than when you kicked him. He looked heartbroken. He craned his head to nod at his hand.

“I tried to get his hand open but I didn’t want to break it,” you said quietly, moving around to try and see what Malia would find.

Scott took Peter’s pain away as Malia pried open Peter’s palm. Between the three of you, Malia got whatever it was and lifted it up.

A set of keys.

Stiles’ keys.

You snatched the keys from her and started running before either of them even had the chance to say anything. Nothing they could say could stop you from trying those keys in the Jeep, because you knew they were the key to more than just the Jeep. They were the key to bringing Stiles home.

Malia tackled you to the ground in the school parking lot and Lydia almost lost a hand trying to break you two up. Once again, the four of you piled into the Jeep, but this time you got in the driver’s seat.

Now that you were sitting there, key still clutched in your hand, you almost couldn’t bring yourself to try it. What if it didn’t work?

With an uncertain breath, you put the key in the ignition and turned it on. The engine sputtered. This wouldn’t bring Stiles home if you couldn’t get the damn engine to turn over. You kept turning the key and pressing down on the clutch.

“Don’t flood it,” Scott said next to you.

“Please, this thing is held together with more duct tape than-” You stopped arguing when the engine turned on. You didn’t talk. You didn’t breathe. All you did was wait.

And wait.

Stiles didn’t show.

“What now?” Malia asked, poking her head between the seats.

“I don’t know,” you said quietly. A few annoying tears clawed at your throat as you spoke. You kept your eyes fixed on the steering wheel to keep from crying.

Scott started suggesting that you all go home when the radio stuttered to life. It filled the car with static. Scott reached to switch it off when a voice came on.

“Hello?”

Stiles.

You grabbed Scott’s hand and yanked it away. If he touched that radio then you were going to break his fingers.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

His voice fought the static but you’d recognize that voice through a hurricane.

“Can anyone hear me?”

Hesitantly, you reached for the walkie connected to the radio. You didn’t want to break whatever magic held the signal together and lose him. Still, you pushed on the button and took a breath. “Stiles?” you asked. “Stiles, I can hear you.”

Stiles said your name in a way that no one had ever said your name. He said it like it meant something. “Is that you?” he asked. “Scotty, you there?”

Scott held your hand over the walkie. “I’m here. Oh my god, Stiles- I can’t believe-”

“Oh my god, you know me?” Stiles asked. He sounded so relieved that your heart ached. “You remember me?”

“I’m trying to,” you said. “I- I dream about you. I promise I’m gonna remember you, alright? No matter what.”

It was quiet. Just the sound of your breathing.

“Are you okay?” Scott asked as he pulled himself closer. “Where are you? We’re coming to get you.”

“No, no, no. You can’t, okay? You won’t be able to find me,” Stiles rushed out. He was panicking and you wanted more than anything to fix it.

“No, Stiles, I need to find you,” you said. “Let me find you.”

“What are you talking about?” Scott asked at the same time you were talking. “Just tell us where you are and we’ll … we’ll come and-”

“Just remember this: Canaan,” Stiles said. Canaan. You were going to get that tattooed on your forehead to make sure there was no way to forget it. “Okay? You have to find Canaan. Just find Canaan. Promise me.”

“I pro-”

Static.

“No.” You moved closer to the radio, desperately looking for a switch to flip to bring him back. “No, no, no. Stiles? Stiles, can you hear me? I need you to say something, okay? Anything.”

Static.

“Stiles, please say something,” you whispered.

Scott said your name quietly. He untangled your hand from the walkie and set it down in its holder, putting his other hand to the side of your face. He said your name again, over your hysterics. “He’s gone,” he said gently. “We’ll get him back, but, for now, Stiles is gone.”

Tagged: @ietss @used-avocado @trustfundparker

#so close #teen wolf #teen wolf au #teen wolf rewrite #stiles stilinski #mccall!reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles slow burn

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marksongyeom · 4 years

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Catch | Part Two

Pairing: Mart Tuan x Reader

Genre: College!au, slight angst

Warnings and Disclaimer: Alcohol, frat party; y’all please drink responsibly. Also I don’t know how frats and parties on college campuses work b/c the frats at my school are practically nonexistent and we’re a hella dry campus.

Word Count: 2.6K

Summary: Friday had finally rolled around and so did the party. Everything was going great, including with Mark. At least they were at first.

Previous: Intro

The first week of classes went by so quickly. Maybe it was because labs hadn’t started yet, or that I only had to go to two or three classes a day. Regardless, the week flew by and it was already Friday.

Amanda and I sat in chemistry (Who in their right mind thinks it’s a good idea to have college chemistry at 7:40 in the morning on a Friday?) chatting as we waited on Jackson to show up. “Are you going to Alpha Sigma Phi’s party tonight?” Amanda asked suddenly, excitement glimmering in her eyes.

Oh shit. I’d completely forgot that was tonight. “Yeah,” I sighed, “Jackson roped me into when one of his teammates who’s a part of AS Phi invited me.”

“Ooo,” Amanda giggled, “first week and you’ve already caught a frat boy’s attention. Not to mention he’s on the baseball team, too. I love this for you.”

I laughed. “I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ve only talked to him once and I got this kind of weird feeling after.”

Amanda cocked her head in confusion. “Good or bad?”

I didn’t get to answer. I was cut off by Jackson’s cheerful voice. “Ladies, I come bearing a new friend!” Amanda and I looked at Jackson and his said friend.

Speak of the devil.

Mark smiled and waved at me.“(y/n), you already know him. Amanda, this is Mark,” Jackson said motioning to the the brunette boy. “Mark, Amanda.” Once introductions were over, Jackson and Mark squeezed passed Amanda and I, slipping into the seats next to me.

“That’s him,” I mouthed to Amanda.

Amanda’s eyes widened, as she tried to hold back an excited grin. She looked back and forth between Mark and I before nodding her head vigorously. I rolled my eyes, heat rising in my cheeks. Jackson eyed the two of us as all of this happened. “What are you two not talking about and why am I not included?” he whined.

Amanda and I laughed. “Nothing,” I said. Jackson pouted, shooting me puppy dog eyes. Dammit. “I’ll tell you later, okay?” Jackson sat back in his seat, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Good morning class.” Like an angel sent from heave, our professor began class.

I don’t know what compelled me to do it, but I peeked over at Mark. My eyes met his brown ones. He smiled at me and winked. I felt my cheeks heat up and I quickly looked away, trying to suppress the my smile.

* * *

The day passed by fast and before I knew it, I was in my dorm chatting with my roommate and getting ready for the night. Thoughts of Mark continued to occupy my mind throughout the rest of classes. The glances and captivating smiles continued the entire chemistry class, leaving me with a smile on my face and a swirly feeling in my stomach. I hadn’t felt like this since sophomore year of high school. It felt good.

“Wait, how long have you known him?” my roommate, Allie, asked. I was confiding in her about my Mark Tuan predicament. Despite knowing her for only about a week, we’d become as close.

I hesitated, not daring to meet her gaze, and instead choosing to keep looking in the mirror as I clasped my necklace. “I met him Monday,” I said. Allie raised and eyebrow as me. I sighed, “I know, I know. I haven’t talked to him a whole lot either. I’m just as confused as you are.”

Allie leaned her back on her bed, and shrugged. “I don’t really know, (y/n). I mean it sounds like it’s just a surface level crush. I mean, it’s normal to be attracted to people based off of looks alone. Just be careful. Frat boys tend to be nothing but trouble,” she said, rolling her eyes at the lost part.

“Don’t remind me,” I groaned.

I looked in the mirror one last time. At least I felt cute. My hair and make-up were done. Nothing glamorous, just enough to feel good. I’d put on my favorite black shorts, and a cropped grey tank top that showed a peek of stomach, but not so much that I was going to feel self conscious.

There was a knock at the door. “Come in!” Allie and I called in unison. Jackson walked in, a bright smile on his face and looking as stylish as ever. He said hi to Allie before looking at me. He gasped. “You look so good! Well, you always look good, but you know what I mean.”

I laughed and thanked him as I grabbed my keys and phone. When I turned around, Jackson was digging through my closet. Before I could ask what he was doing, he held up a black flannel. “Put this on he said. I don’t want you to get cold.” I smiled and put it on, saying bye to Allie before heading to the party with Jackson.

* * *

The house was already bustling with people by the time we arrived. I could feel my nerves getting the best of me. Jackson seemed to notice, too. He gave me hand a reassuring squeeze. “Hey, you know I’ll be there when you need me. Just find me or text me,” he said with a gentle smile.

I smiled and nodded. “Thank you,” I responded softly.

Jackson nodded. “Of course,” he said, his smile turning into a grin. “I’m sure Mark will take care of you, too.”

I rolled my eyes, my cheeks getting warm at the thought. “I barely know him.”

“Okay and? It’s obvious that he’s attracted to at the very least,” Jackson responded. I stayed silent, my cheeks getting even warmer. Jackson snickered at this, throwing his arm around my shoulder. “At least talk to him. He’s a really good guy.”

“Okay, fine,” I sighed. “I will.”

I was glad Jackson had me put the flannel on because it was so packed in the house that people were literally rubbing against each other just to squeeze by. Jackson introduced me to a few of the guys on the baseball team, then went off to be the social butterfly that he is. “Don’t forget, text me if you need anything,” he said before disappearing.

I continued to mingle a bit, talking to a few people that I had class with. Eventually, I made my way to the kitchen to get a drink. I was going to need one if I was going to be here for a while. There were coolers packed full of beer, hard seltzers and vodka, and water for when people needed to sober up a bit or for those who weren’t drinking. I grabbed a drink out of one of the coolers, twisting the top off.

I walked around, sipping on my drink and enjoying the music, despite how loud it was. I continued to talk to a few people and even met a few new people. I was actually having a pretty good time.

“(Y/N)!!!” a very familiar voice shrieked. I turned around to see Amanda scurrying over to me. She looked even more stunning than normal with her hair up in a chic bun and big hoop earrings. Amanda threw her arms around me. “AAH, I’m so glad I found you! You look so good!”

I laughed and hugged her back. “Thank you! So do you!” She thanked me, striking a pose in typical Amanda fashion. Her cheeks were a little pink from the drink in her hand. We continued to talk and laugh. “Ya know, I’m glad I sat down next you in chem on the first day. I consider you one of my best friends here.” Amanda said, as she swayed to the music, a smile on her face.

I smiled back. “Me too.”

Suddenly Amanda gasped. She pointed a perfectly manicured finger. My gaze when to were she was pointing across the room. Mark. “It’s your maaan,” she sang, a grin on her face.

I shook my head, my cheeks getting warm for the second time that night, and it wasn’t from the alcohol. I shook my head. “He’s not my man,” I said.

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. He clearly has a thing for you, and you definitely feel the same way. I saw you two looking at each other constantly during chem,” Amanda replied with a smirk. “Plus, frat boys are fun. Even if it’s not something serious.” Before I could respond, Amanda was calling and waving Mark over.

Mark looked at us, his eyes locking on mine. His face lit up. Excusing himself, he made his way across the room to us. It was like he was moving in slow motion. Mark looked so good with his messy hair falling in his eyes ever so slightly. He took long strides, his jeans fitting him just right. He wore his shirt unbuttoned, the white t-shirt underneath exposing just enough of his collar to let the imagination wander. I kept telling myself that somebody with a face that pretty was nothing but trouble, yet I didn’t really seem to care.

“I’m glad you guys came!” He said as he finally reached us. He looked over at me and smiled. It was different then how he smiled at others. There was a twinkle in his eyes.

“You guys did a great job on putting this party together!” Amanda exclaimed.

Mark rubbed the back of his neck shyly. “Thank you, I’m glad you guys are having a good time.”

There was small talk for a bit, until Amanda held up her now empty bottle. “I’m going to go get another and find Jackson,” she said before making her way to the kitchen and leaving Mark and I alone. Well as alone as we could be at a party.

Mark chuckled a bit. “She’s fun.” I smiled and nodded in agreement. We stood in silence for a bit. I’d never been alone with him before and didn’t exactly know what to say. I was getting that excited swirly feeling in my stomach again. “Are you actually having fun?” Mark asked suddenly, catching me off guard. He looked at me, laughing lightly when he saw the confused look on my face. “Jackson told me you don’t like parties that much.”

I made an ‘oooh’ shape with my mouth and looked down. Now I felt bad. I looked back up at Mark. His eyes met mine. They were soft and kind. “I really am,” I said, smiling at him softly.

Mark smiled back, charming and sweet as always. “Good. The last thing I’d want is for you to have a bad time.”

It was quite again. Oh my gosh, why are you so awkward, (y/n)! Mark cleared his throat. “You look really pretty,” he finally said. His voice was shy and his cheeks were a bit flushed.

I fidgeted with the ring on my finger, trying to hold back the smile that was making it’s way on my face. “Thank you,” I said, finally meeting his eyes again. “You look really good, too.”

Mark smiled and finally looked away. “I don’t think I ever asked and now that I’m thinking about it, it’s such a lame thing to ask at a party, but what’s your major?”

I giggled a bit. “Civil engineering,” I responded.” And it’s not lame. It’s an essential question in college. A person’s major says a lot about them. Mine just so happens to give away how much of a nerd I am.”

Mark grinned at this. “I guess we’re both nerds then. Mine’s chemical engineering with a minor in math.”

I laughed, grinning back at him. “Oh so you’re a super nerd. The only thing that says more about a person than their major is their minor,” I teased.

Mark laughed. It was high pitched and honey sweet. I could feel myself melting more and more with every passing second. “Yeah, you’re not wrong.”

We continued talking, about everything. He told me about baseball and how he met Jackson. Turns our Mark is a sophomore and already the star catcher for our school’s baseball team. We laughed about stories from high school and even talked about our plans for the future.

I hardly noticed how close we were to each other. We were both leaning against the wall. He was borderline hovering over me, but I didn’t mind one bit. “Okay, but what makes you happy?” he asked me.

I titled my head slightly as I looked up at him. His face was so close to mine. “What do you mean?”

Mark hummed as he thought, searching his mind for the right words. Oh, how I’d love to search the darkest corners of that beautiful mind. He smiled and finally said, “Like, what makes you feel alive?”

I thought for a bit. “I’m not totally sure, to be honest. I mean, I really like to travel. Going to San Diego with Jackson was probably one of the best times of my life.” Mark smiled at this. “What about you?”

As Mark was about to answer, he was cut off. “Maaaarrrrk,” a voice sang out. We both looked in the direction it came from. A pretty girl sauntered up to us. She had long brown hair and glowy skin. Her skirt hugged her just right. She glanced at me, annoyed, then threw her arms around Mark’s neck. I couldn’t help but notice how his hands immediately went to her waist. “Markie, baby, I’ve been looking for you aaallll night.”

Markie? Baby?

I looked between her and Mark. Instinctively, I pulled my flannel tight around me for comfort. “I’m going to go find Jackson,” I said to him, trying to hide my disappointment. Mark pushed the girl to the side lightly, but it was too late to say anything. I was already gone.

I squeezed passed people as I made my way through the house. It wasn’t hard to find Jackson. All I had to do was follow the excitement and I’d find him at the center. I could feel myself getting worked up. My stomach was tying itself in knots.

I finally spotted Jackson. He was laughing and dancing with Amanda and a few others. “(y/n)!” Jackson said, but his smile was quickly replaced by a look of concern. Him and Amanda pulled me to the side. Jackson kept an arm around me. “Hey, what’s wrong? What happened?” he asked in a gentle voice.

I told them about what happened with Mark and that girl. I don’t know why I was so upset about it, he wasn’t my boyfriend or anything after all. Still, I couldn't help but sniffle as my eyes began to water. Jackson pulled me into a hug. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said. “I’ll talk to Mark next time I see him. For now, why don’t we get out of here?”

“Oh, hun, it’s going to be okay. She’s lucky I just got my nails done,” Amanda said, muttering the last part with a frown. “Boys are stupid, not offense Jackson.” Jackson feigned hurt, making me laugh a bit. “How about we go to the diner a few blocks away? We can get fries and milkshakes!”

I smiled a bit and nodded, wiping away tears with the back of my hand. Jackson kept his arm around me as we left the party, acting as a wall between Mark and I when we passed him. The three of us walked to the diner, laughing along that way.

I felt a bit better by the end of the night, but the feeling in my stomach still lingered. I was right, somebody with a face a pretty as Mark Tuan’s is nothing but trouble.

* * *

Next Part

@mara-twins

I’d let Mark Tuan fuck my life up, just sayin’. Anyway, that was part two. I’ll hopefully be able to start working on part three soon. I have two tests with week and a project that I haven’t started due on Friday. Fun Fact: Amanda is based off of my chem lab partner. Lover her bunches. Thank you for all your love and support! <3

#justrightkpop #mark tuan #got7 #College!AU #mark tuan scenarios #mark tuan imagines #mark tuan drabbles #got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #got7 college!au #got7 mark #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop fic #kpop x reader #mark fic #mark tuan x reader #got7 mark scenarios

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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What We Do in the Shadows Season 3: What is an Energy Vampire Anyway?

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This article contains spoilers for What We Do in the Shadows season 3’s first two episodes.

Boredom, tedious, tiresome, flat. These are not the first words which jump to mind when thinking of vampires or comedy, but What We Do in the Shadows wields them like secret weapons without sacrificing a single laugh or scare. The FX horror farce, which is a series adaptation of the 2014 feature film created by Taika Waititi and Jemaine Clement, follows four vampires. They have been roommates since, well, forever, but one is different from the rest.

Nandor the Relentless (Kayvan Novak), Nadja of Antipaxos, (Natasia Demetriou), and Laszlo Cravensworth (Matt Berry), are traditional vampires. They drink blood, a virgin’s if possible. This is usually supplied by their familiar-turned-bodyguard Guillermo (Harvey Guillén). A probable virgin himself, but off limits. Even vampires know not to feed on their own supplier, especially one who has taken down the entire local vampire hierarchy. The fourth vampire does not drink blood. He subsists on the lifeforce of others. He is an energy vampire, and no one is safe from his appetites. Familiars are fair game, and so are the other vampires.

Colin Robinson (Mark Proksch) looks like an office drone, talks like an automated menu, and has the presence of an interdepartmental meeting memo. A simple watercooler chat can drain a listener of the very will to live. It’s tasty. The Staten Island vampires have been named head of the entire Tri-State vampire community and Colin, who will be celebrating a major milestone this season, is undergoing a search for self.

You don’t have to look far from Colin to find Mark Proksch, the actor who plays him. In Better Call Saul, he played Daniel “Pryce” Wormald, the ineptly arrogant pharmaceutical connection who was very particular about his baseball cards. On The Office, he played Nate, a proven entity, but not without handicaps, like hearing, vision and cognition. With offbeat roles on This Is Us, Modern Family, Portlandia, Drunk History, Bob’s Burgers, and Adventure Time, Proksch has spent his career playing yo-yos, his first appearance was as a self-proclaimed master.

Proksch spoke with Den of Geek about vampire centennials, television perennials, and freezing his genitals playing kickball in the snow.

Den of Geek: Hello and thanks for doing this, and I wanted to wish Colin Robinson a happy birthday.

Mark Proksch: Well, it’s a little premature, but thank you.

I know the season is building to it, but will you be throwing a big celebration?

Yes. There will be some festivities, Colin Robinson style.

Do you know his sign?

I don’t know his sign. Gosh, that’s a good question. I don’t think he knows it, even.

Is there anything he wants for his birthday?

I think what he wants most is to know where he came from, and where he’s going. He’s in a bit of an existential funk right now. And he’s doing a lot of research about energy vampires. The problem is there’s not much out there on energy vampires because no one likes them. So, there aren’t many books about them. When he goes into the big Vampiric Council library, he can’t find a single word about energy vampires. And that’s probably because they’re so reviled within that community, that they don’t respect the energy vampires, or have any of their books.

You’ve been doing a lot of research on the history, and the nature, of energy vampires, as you said. What do you think, or, what do you call what he is feeding from? Is it Prana? Chi? Neurotransmissions?

Oh, yeah. We haven’t learned. He still doesn’t know. I think he’s feeding on the exhaustion of others. The everyday life exhaustion of others, I think, is what he feeds on.

Does Colin ever contemplate the carbon footprint of the energy vampire?

No, I think Colin’s in for it just for himself.

How come Colin can stand fire, he laughs it off, but he can’t deal with a cattle prod?

Yeah. Tony, you’re poking holes here. I don’t know. That’s, again, a very good question. Why doesn’t fire hurt him, but a cattle prod shocks him? Maybe, because one is energy? I mean, electrical energy, I should say. I guess heat is its own energy.

In the Cloak-of-Many-Nandors episode, how did it feel to hear Kayvan Novak do you? And did you give him pointers? Did he drain you in the process?

Yeah. Well, Kayvan has been doing all of us, since day one of shooting. So, it wasn’t a revelation to hear him do my voice. That said, we all sent recordings to him so he could perfect it. I haven’t seen the episode yet. The night we were filming my scene, it was about 4:00 a.m., it was one of the coldest nights in Toronto. So, I didn’t stick around to hear him do my voice. But I’m sure it’s as good as he was doing it on day one.

There’s a lot more location and exterior shooting this season. Is that more fun? Or is it just another day in a different cubicle?

I love our set. Kate Bunch, who is our set designer, is an absolute genius. And we film in the cold months, in Canada. So anytime we get to be on set, near the fireplace that actually works, is a plus. Filming on location has its limitations. We can’t film during the daytime, because the vampires will be burned up. So, we always film at night, when on location. And it looks like it’s 11:00 p.m. or 10:00 p.m., when in fact, it’s usually 3:00 a.m. or 4:00 a.m. And so, when we go on location, we’re usually shooting pretty unpleasant evenings. So, I’d much rather film on set. Filming on location can be fun though, because you have a lot more interaction with real people. And I think that’s one thing that makes the show really funny, is seeing these idiot vampires dealing in the real world. So, it’s kind of fifty-fifty for me.

Did you have fun in the snowball fights?

Yes. There are a lot of snowball fights, yes.

The last time I spoke with you, Colin had just gotten a promotion and it kind of went to his head. How is it for Colin now, to be in power at the Vampiric Council?

I think, as much as Colin loved having some power, I think his M.O. is really, just fading into the background. That way, he can prey a lot easier. Just trying to mix into the group. Be a spider with his web, in the background. I think that’s how he prefers to prey. And so, even when he becomes part of the Vampiric Council, he still allows others to exceed him in power. And so, this season, when Nandor and Nadja are the heads of the Vampiric Council, he’s more than happy to be the secretary. The most boring job you can have in a council setting, taking the notes.

Who do you think Colin would prefer on the throne, Nadja or Nandor?

That’s a great question. I think he would probably prefer Nandor, because Nandor is so stupid. Nandor is very, very dumb. And so, he, Colin, can get Nandor to do pretty much anything he wants. Whereas Nadja, I think Colin likes Nadja. And I also think that Nadja’s too smart to fall into Colin’s traps.

Does he get a jolt out of things like the heart ripping?

Yeah, I think so. I think he does enjoy that type of stuff. Yeah.

Can you feed off Nadja’s ghost in the Nadja doll?

I can’t. And I think I’ve tried to several times. I don’t remember what made it on air. But there’s been several times where I’ve tried to feed off of the doll, and it doesn’t go anywhere.

Will Colin’s research turn up any famous energy vampires? And have you come up with your own?

I’ll drop in names for energy vampires, every once in a while. I don’t think any of them have made it so far. I mean, I’ve done Andy Warhol, who seems, to me, to have been an energy vampire. Truman Capote. I would love to have Bob Newhart on as an energy vampire, because I think he’s brilliant, and he would absolutely kill it. Yeah, I’ve thrown in some of those names. David Crosby, I’ve thrown in. I mean, the more left field, the better. But I don’t think any of those have gotten in. I don’t think they want to insult people.

When you look back on your character’s past, do you find any trace of Les Nessman DNA?

Only in my acting. I loved WKRP, and Les Nessman was definitely a good energy vampire. Just a great character, and acted brilliantly. Yeah, I’m sure I stole from him. You know, it’s interesting, I mostly watch classic television. And I’ll see something, and I’ll be like, “Oh, that’s where I got that. That’s where I took that from.” I haven’t seen him since childhood, but it made an impression on me that, “Oh, okay. That’s why I do that.” And that becomes very eerie to me, when I realize I’m just a culmination of things I’ve been watching my whole life.

I’ve recently been watching it and was amazed by the physical comedy. Arthur Carlson was a genius. So, tell me about the physical comedy in What We Do in the Shadows. Because you’re using not just you, the actors, but you have the effects, and there’s a lot going on, especially, in the backgrounds.

Yeah. I personally love being able to do physical comedy. And Colin Robinson is so great for that, because he’s so at two with his body. He’s not a physical human being. He’s not athletic, to say the least. And I think it adds an extra layer to the character, when you actually see him physically emote, really. Whether it’s dancing, or playing kickball, he’s very unsettling in his movements. Then when you add in the ability to fly, once in a while, or throw people against a wall, it really becomes a playground that not a lot of shows let you get to do. Explore those extremes of physical comedy. And so, I love it for that reason.

You mentioned being free to emote. In the opening episode, you actually are peeved when you can’t feed off of Nadja and Laszlo, and when they shut you down. Does Colin get drained when the feedees don’t give with the Prana?

Yeah, I think he gets really frustrated. It’s almost like a dog that’s always promised a treat, but never is actually given the treat. I think he becomes furious. And he thinks it’s unfair, I would expect, and thinks that they’re not playing by the rules. His bizarre social rules, in which he should be allowed to feed on whenever he wants. Because he gets to do it all day long at work. Anytime he’s out of the house, he gets to do it. But when he’s in the mansion, they know what he’s up to, and they can shut him down pretty quickly. I think he gets frustrated.

Also, still with the first episode, your toilet duties. They only seemed designed to annoy you. So, when you’re actually annoying yourself, isn’t that like cannibalism?

I don’t know if he’s annoying himself. I think he’s really into what’s going on in those toilet buckets. That’s all. I think he’s curious.

You meet a big fan in the rogue vampire house, in Queens. Does Colin’s reputation precede him? And will we see a growth in his vampire community renown?

That’s a great question. I think his reputation does precede him. That said, I don’t know what the writers have in store in that story. I mean, it would be interesting to see him rise to a level of energy vampire stardom, and how he would handle that. But I don’t know.

Is that a little counterproductive?

It would be in his mind, absolutely. Again, it goes back to him being the spider with the spider web, and just, kind of, hanging out in the background.

Do you think the connection you make with energy vampires is different from the connection traditional vampires make? And might we be seeing something of an underground, within the underground?

I think with the traditional, bloodsucking vampires, I think it’s mostly sexual. For them, they just want to get their rocks off. I think with energy vampires, it’s much more subtle, and a little more complicated. And I don’t know if those relationships could last, the energy vampire relationships. What we saw with Vanessa Bayer’s character, Evie, I think that ran its natural course, as far as romantic liaisons with energy vampires.

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What We Do in the Shadows season 3 airs Thursdays at 10:00 p.m. on FX.

The post What We Do in the Shadows Season 3: What is an Energy Vampire Anyway? appeared first on Den of Geek.

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