#side note he told me it was a 3/4 but its not its a full haha dumbass. now ive gotta make fun of him

[anotherpapercut]

a friend of mine sold me a cello for $100* and I'm literally so stoked about it I'm not even sure like. I don't know what to do with it. what do I do first

* for context the only cello I could find for $100 on Facebook marketplace or craigslist was actually an upright bass and it was broken in half

[zer0brainc3lls]

I bet on losing dogs

masterlist

story summary: what if newt and thomas were canon in the death cure with a twist?

word count: 7172

part 1/3-4?

authors note at the end!!

When Thomas announced he wasn't going to save Minho, newt knew he was a fucking liar. Everyone else believed him but, newt? No. he knows Thomas better than that. 6 months of barely leaving each other's sides and learning to survive and rely on each other you learn each other's tells. He had it written all over his stubborn self sacrificial face, the fact Thomas thinks he can go save Minho without newt is honestly laughable in his opinion. 6 months of missions, killing cranks, forming plans, learning wicked layouts, sharing tents and when times were hard even the same sleeping bag the fact Thomas thought he could do this alone was stupid and newt knows Thomas knows that. 

Afterwards newt immediately went to frypan and he was immediately in when newt told him the plan, they secretly packed everything up into a truck for after newt catches him in the act. Thomas probably wont be leaving for another hour or two so newt decides to go back to their shared tent to check if he has left anything and to just relax for a little while. He unzips the tent and zips it back up behind him once he crosses the threshold. They didn't have much and the tent floor mainly consisted of a large sleeping bag and their packs for pillows. The small part of the ground that wasn't just their sleeping bag they had a small pistol each, thomas a medium sized knife and newts machete resting in a corner. 

Well normally there was.

But suspiciously Thomas's knife and pistol was gone and his bag/pillow looked slightly more full. Like how it did before they went out into the scorch. Thomas could be so smart and so dumb at the same time, Newt decided to wait on top of their sleeping bag to confront him. He grabbed Thomas's bag and placed it in his lap and sat staring at the closed tent waiting patiently for him to get back. Newt couldn't lie, he was mad at thomas. Of all the times to decide to go on some big solo mission it's to go save minho? Really? Besides thomas, minho was one of the people newt was closest to and thomas knows that. Why would thomas think newt wouldnt go with him? As minutes passed anger bubbled up inside newt at this thought and after waiting for maybe 10 minutes he hears familiar footsteps crunch against the ground, he listens as Thomas fumbles with the tent zipper and sees him step inside. 

Thomas stares at Newt with widened eyes, after a moment his jaw clenches with the realization he had been caught. His brows furrowed and as he's about to explain himself newt cuts him off. “I'm coming with you.” Newt says in his usual stubborn tone, he watches Thomas as he sits down in front of him. He takes a deep breath with his eyes scrunched together before speaking “newt you can't, its to big of a risk! There no guarantee we make it back-” “so you're going to need help, you bloody shank!” newt's voice layered with frustration towards Thomas, he takes a moment to compose himself before continuing. “Frypan is already in as well, please let us help. Let me help. You can't ask me to sit back while you go rescue one of my best friends and not know if either of you will make it back. You can't do that to me tommy.” his voice full of desperation, he holds thomas’s gaze and thomas looks at him as if this is really a decision. 

Thomas’s pupils scan Newt's face for any sign of a small chance he could be convinced. Newt holds his ground, keeping his face as still as a rock. Thomas looks away from him, eyes tightly sewn together and his lips pressed tightly together. Newt cups his face and gently turns his head to make Thomas face him once more. 

“Please thomas.” he mumbles at a tone only for Thomas's ears. This brings Thomas's walls crashing down and his face can only be described as in full defeat. Thomas’s eyes flick to Newt's lips before he softly kisses him, Newt kisses him back and places his other hand on Thomas's face pulling him in. both pairs of lips chapped from the harsh sun, thomas pulls away after a moment and whispers “your not leaving my side. Got it?” Newt gently places a kiss on Thomas’s forehead, his lips barely touching his skin before softly responding with, “I expected nothing less.” they lock eyes again, Thomas smiles a big boyish grin that Newt absolutely adores and he resists the urge the kiss him again that swirls in his chest so he can pack his own weapons up. 

He quickly takes his holster out of his bag and hooks it to his belt before placing his pistol inside. He checks his bag for all his usual stuff, water, food, extra rounds, pencil and journal. As he suspected its all there, he nods to himself and tucks his machete into his belt. He gets his smaller secret knife he keeps in his bag and tucks in his belt as well, instead of placing it around the front he places it around the back. Thomas’s eyes locked on him through this whole process. Usually Newt wouldn't expose his secret knife spot but it's Thomas he already knows where he keeps his weapons, and newt knows where thomas keeps his. Thomas keeps a tiny blade in his shoe and he keeps his main knife tucked into a pocket on the inside of his jacket that Newt sewn on himself. Thomas has never been good with sewing. Newt grabs his bag and swings it over his back, he stretches his hand out to thomas. Before he can even stop moving his hand Thomas has a firm grip on Newt, Newt responds with the same grip and pulls Thomas up. He doesn't let go of Thomas's calloused hand as they walk out quietly to the truck. 

—

Newt was dozing off in the back seat, thomas has been driving for a few hours but he is getting tired and frypan who has slept the whole time is going to switch with him, well at least that's what Newt overheard. He feels the car pull to the side of the road and hears both front doors open, Thomas gets in the back next to Newt and Frypan gets in the front seat. They drive silently for awhile and when Newt finally feels himself slipping out of consciousness he faintly hears thomas unbuckle his seatbelt, followed by him placing his head in Newt's lap staring up at him with a sleepy grin on his face. Usually they aren't super affectionate around others, but when it's just frypan or brenda they allow themselves to be slightly more affectionate than usual. 

You need to wear your seatbelt. Newt silently tells him when he raises his eyebrows. Thomas as usual knows exactly what newt is thinking and mumbles “it's fine newt, it's a dead road. Go to sleepp” the end of his sentence barely audible as his eyes get heavy and he allows his eyes to close. Newt softly runs his hand through Thomas's hair and watches the sleepy grin slowly dissolve into a blank face and listens as his breathing goes steady. Newt feels his own eyes get heavy and lets himself rest as well. 

Newt hears the sound of tires crunching against the ground combined with the scorching sun against his eyelids. This makes his lashes flutter open and when he realizes how late in the day it is he whisper shouts at fry “you were supposed to wake me up you shank!” as he says this he hears thomas stir, he covers his eyes with his hand so the sunlight doesn't wake him. He keeps his gaze locked on the rearview mirror so he's looking at fry, “im not tired, plus you two looked peaceful. Also were almost at some checkpoint so maybe wake up lover boy in a bit, good that?” newt rolls his eyes sarcastically before saying in a whisper “good that” 

Newt places his left elbow against the car door and uses his hand as a head rest, his right hand already occupied with shielding the sun from Thomas's eyes. Newt can't help but wonder if this checkpoint is going to be swarming with cranks, he has a pretty good feeling it will be. He feels an anxiety pool in his gut at the thought, he hadn't encountered a big group of cranks since winston.. Only the odd group or two. None of them knew who was immune or not since then, Then his mind conjured up a thought. A terrible, gut wrenching thought. 

What if Thomas isn't immune? 

Imagining Thomas as a crank makes Newt feel positivity sick. He can't imagine Thomas as one of those cannibalistic animals. He images Thomas standing in front of him, deathly still with black veins pulsing all throughout his body and a black oil-like substance dripping from his lips. His eyes full of bloodlust. No. no way. He has to be immune. Newt is sure of it. As if on cue he sees a sign in the distance about the checkpoint frypan was referencing minutes earlier. He places his hand against thomas’s cheek and strokes his skin softly with his thumb coaxing him out of his sleep. Newt listens as his breathing picks up for a moment and his eyes fly open, thomas looks up at newt and he quickly relaxes. His eyes go soft and his body melts like butter under Newt's touch. Newt can't even imagine Thomas as a crank when he looks at Newt like that.  

“There's a checkpoint coming up” newt says carefully concealing his thoughts, thomas’s brow twitches for a moment as he searches newts face at the slightest tone adjustment only he would pick up on. Thomas’s brows raise in question, are you ok? He asks with no voice. Newt raises the corner of his mouth into a quiet smile. I'm fine Tommy, he answers back wordlessly.  Thomas’s brows furrow for a second in accusation before he sits up in his seat, quickly putting on his seat belt. Thomas doesn't believe him but chooses not to bring it up, the car silently pulls them to the checkpoint. When they see the dark tunnel ahead, Frypan stops the car and they all get out to check it out. 

As they walk up to the tunnel, Newt says in a cautious tone “you want us to go in there?” he turns to face thomas who is looking down at a map. His face scrunched in concentration, his jaw tightly shut trying to find a way around the dark most likely crank infested death trap. “I don't want to come across as to negative love but if I were a crank that's exactly where I would be.” Newt says gesturing towards the entrance of the checkpoint with his hand, frypan nods in agreement. “I don't think we have much of a choice.” Thomas says reluctant as well, Newt frowns but hums in agreement before heading back to the car sitting in the back seat. 

Thomas now sits in the front seat next to frypan who is driving, they slowly make their way through the dark and surprisingly wet tunnel. They hit a pothole or two as they drive along the empty checkpoint, after a minute or two they come across a few cars. Frypan steers around them but quickly comes to a stop with a loud gasp, newt looks between the two seats and sees a crank up ahead. The thing twitches and groans softly but not daring to move. Newt's chest clenches at the sight of the animal and he quickly switches off his flashlight, Thomas quickly follows suit. “Its fine there's only one, take it slow and drive around it.'' Thomas instructs fry, frypan nods in agreement. Once he does thomas rolls up his window, 

BANG!!!

Newt automatically turns to his left at the noise, he sees a white haired lady.. Well used to be a lady begging to be let in the truck. she starts frantically jiggling at the door handle. Adrenaline spikes up newt like lighting at the sight and he jumps away, 

THUD

Newt turns to his right and sees another crank, this time a man whose further into the infection. His claws at the window and growls animalistically, its eyes full of hunger and a sickening desire for blood. A second bolt of lighting courses through newts flesh, the hair on his nape standing up. Newt watches as cranks quickly crowd around the truck groaning, scratching, banging and screaming craving the taste of blood on their rotten tongues. “FLOOR IT FRY!!!” thomas screams from his gut, “HOLD ON” frypan yells out in warning, his voice lowering an octave. As he steps on the accelerator a crank jumps on the front of the car, it roars in a low guttural tone before beginning to punch the windshield. “SHAKE IT'' Newt screams sternly, frypan obeys and begins dodging cars silently. Newt rocks left and right as he does so,

frypan manages to yell something back after a moment or two that newt doesn't hear because the crank manages to punch through the windshield and sticks its hand inside the small hole in the glass, time slows almost to a halt as the thing goes to take a swipe at thomas. Newt freezes for less then a second feeling a deep primal fear wash over his entire body, pure terror at the thought of the crank making contact with the brunette sitting in front of him, newt doesnt see if the thing actually makes contact with thomas before he shoots its brains out. The windshield shatters into tiny pieces, frypan tries to drive forward but newt hears thomas scream something as the car topples rolls over onto its back. Newt bangs his head as the car flips, white noise being the only thing audible for a moment. He gets his bearings and raises his shaky hand to the back of his head to feel hot liquid trickle down his neck, luckily its not a lot so he should be fine. 

Newt faintly hears thomas kick his window out and watches as he crawls out of the car on his hands and knees, newt hears frys door jiggle as it fights against him. At the sound newt kicks at his own door, after 2 hard kicks it flys open as he rolls out onto the ground. Newt fumbles to get to his feet, thomas lifts him up and places his hands on his shoulders “you hurt?” he quickly asks, eyes flickering between newt and the car. “I'll live, you?” thomas’s breath hitches as he zips up his jacket, he quickly nods confirming hes fine before asking frypan if hes ok. Hes quickly interrupted by a inhumane scream in the distance. 

Newt quickly checks his gun the realise he forgot to fucking load it. “Shit!” he says in a panic looking towards thomas then frypan, “fry we gotta move!'' Thomas's voice rising with worry. Newt pulls out his machete as a crank limps towards them at top speed, him and thomas are yelling at frypan to get out of the car. Terror gets thicker in their tones as the animal rapidly approaches. Thomas and Newt go to pull him out of the car before frypan stumbles out himself, shot gun in hand as he shoots at the thing that was mer steps away. “Nice shot fry” Thomas somehow manages to choke out, “thanks..” Frypan says breathlessly as the adrenaline seeps out of him. Newt can't bring himself to speak as his adrenaline and heart are still pumping. 

More screams sound in the distance and newts head snaps up towards the noise, thomas shouts something before frypan is yelling for them to go, thomas grabs newts sleeve as they run to the sounds of gunshots behind them. Newt and Thomas scream at him to run and frypan follows, the cranks close in and frypan goes to shoot them, they turn around to see cranks on all sides. “IM OUT!!” frypan screams, his gun clicking with no bullets. Newt turns back and forth as the cranks close in on them, is this it? Is he going to die by a pack of blood thirsty animals?? His breathing and heart rate somehow get faster at this realization.

Luckily they hear a car's engine roar in the distance.

Newt, Thomas and Frypan turn to see a car crash through the cranks with its headlights beaming, newt sees a figure emerge from the top of the car before realizing its Brenda. Brenda!! “Hey get in!” she yells out pistol in hand, she shoots with precision only a person with years of experience could yield as newt grabs a handle on top of an open window using it to hurl himself into the car. Once there all in, Jorge commands the car to bolt forward, the speed off and out of the pack of cranks and eventually the tunnel. 

“I'm impressed! You almost lasted a whole day!” Jorge says sarcastically as Thomas climbs from the back to sit next to Newt, bodies clash for a moment before he asks once more “you good?” “yeah” newt responds quickly.

Brenda turns in her seat and shakes her head disapprovingly, Thomas replies with “I'm sorry I didn't want to bring you guys into this” guilt thick and prominent in his voice. Jorge looks at Thomas through the rearview mirror and before Newt gets the chance, Frypan blurted out “what i think he's trying to say is thanks for saving us!” he says leaning forwards in his seat. Jorge mentions how the city is most likely overrun but that's when the city catches newt's eye, he sees a large technologically advanced city in the distance with a thick circle of concrete walls lined with towers and machine guns the size of small cars adding another layer of protection. “Yeah unless they figured out some other way to keep the cranks out” he spoke as the car rocked along the road, his words caught everyone attention and they stared at the concrete walls in disbelief and almost in awe at the heavy machinery and protection they could only dream of. 

Jorge slams on the breaks, dust flies as the car comes to a quick and loud halt. Newt climbs out of the car, Thomas following close behind as everyone walks to the edge to get a true look at the city before them. The city seems out of place in such a foreign waste land, the buildings outside of the concrete walls all worn down and cars abandoned. The skyscrapers practically glow under the harsh sun, the colors of blue and white only bringing them more attention. 

“Its funny, we spent three years trapped behind walls trying to break out and now we want to break back in.'' Newt announces almost sarcastically, Thomas asks how to get in but Jorge tells them the walls are new. Brenda tells everyone to get in the car and everyone obliges except for Thomas who continues to stare out into the city. Newt walks up to him and says “you really think he's in there?” he asks rhetorically. “I guess we’ll find out.'' he answers in an almost deadpan tone, newt knows what he's really thinking about, he's thinking about her. Teresa. “You know she's gonna be in there too.” he says almost sympathetic, thomas’s face molds into a stone cold expression at the thought of her.

When Teresa betrayed them he was so full of rage and hate it was almost unbearable for him, and almost as unbearable for newt to watch. It broke his heart to see Thomas be betrayed like that, he truly did care for her. But not in the way she cared about him, Teresa loved him. The thought of the possibility she could still feel that way makes his chest tighten in jealousy and anger, even though Thomas is Newt’s and Thomas hates her now with a fiery passion the thought of someone liking Thomas like that makes him positively sick. “Cmon lets go to the car” Newt squeezes Thomas's arm and his shoulder slump and face once made of stone cracks down, Thomas smiles softly as his eyes trail up and down newt and his smile somehow radiates with pure appreciation and devotion. Thomas allows Newt to interlock their hands and be pulled gently towards the car. 

—

Newt, Thomas, Brenda, Frypan and Jorge walk into a street full of angry protestors. Some are standing on objects, many with signs but all of them are screaming in unison. Newt looks around fully taking in the intimidating sight before seeing Thomas push through the crowd, Jorge and Brenda following close behind. Newt and frypan speed walk side by side pushing through the crowd to make it back to Tommy and the others. As Newt walks through the angry protestors trying to reach the front that is blocked off with waist high barricades he notices men in gas masks watching them, he notices the first one close behind him. His mask black but the glass a faint red color, he ignores it and continues walking and not even 10 seconds later he turns to his right and notices another man in a similar getup eyeing him down. 

Newt speeds up slightly, fear making his head spin as he pushes more urgently now through the protestors. He makes it to Thomas and luckily everyone else is there too, he grabs Thomas and Jorge by the shoulders and announces sternly “guys we gotta go now look!” Thomas and the others all turn to where Newt is watching the masked men approaching them quickly. 

As if things couldn't get any worse he hears a loud whirring sound of the large machine guns powering up.  

Everyone, even the protestors fall silent and watch as the cubes of death power on. The metal rods that hold them extending while red light flashes from multiple guns from either side, Newt can almost hear Janson cackling behind the walls. The silence is interrupted by many people screaming and stampeding away from wicked’s walls, making a desperate ditch effort to escape their fates. Jorge is shouting for them to leave but the group barely move their feet from shock, once the first explosion happens maybe less than 100 meters away all hesitation is broken and the group breaks into a sprint side by side. Newt pushes forward, his feet pounding against the hard ground which he does not hear over the explosions and screams all around him. He fails to keep his breath steady from terror, gulping air as if it will run away from him. 

Newt follows frypan into a concrete alleyway, somehow keeping his balance despite the bombs raining from the sky. Dust flies all around and scratches at his exposed skin, they exit the alleyway to find a just as terrifying if not more sight in front of them. A masked soldier grabs onto Newt's jacket and roughly shoves him into a van as if he was a parcel, he hears Jorge screaming Brenda's name as he is shoved into the same van as newt. He resists the urge to scream along with him but not for the same person as he is.

—

The ride there is intense to say the least. The short drive there Jorge is drilling the soldiers about his daughter and her location, the idiot soldiers not knowing how protective Jorge is refuse to answer and just before the van comes to a loud halt Jorge has pounced on the soldier in front of him like an angry lion who lost his cub. As the back of the van opens both Jorge and the soldier tumble out, Jorge landing on top and he proceeds to beat the living shit out of the masked man screaming his head off. Newt stumbles out of the van looking around expecting white walls and needles to be shoved into his neck but instead is met with a concrete building, newt sees thomas and brenda run up to jorge before thomas gets pushed back as well as newt, a gun drawn against his chest. Newt and Thomas lock eyes for a second, scanning each other's bodies looking for any possible injury. Newt is met with the same Thomas he saw 10 minutes ago and turns his attention back to the situation at hand.

Brenda is attempting to get Jorge's attention and once she does Jorge immediately leaves the soldier as if he's just a piece of trash and immediately relaxed once he sees Brenda is safe and sound. “We’re all on the same side here!” Newt hears a soldier shout out, the boy has extremely short hair almost down to the scalp and for whatever reason his voice and stance ring a bell in Newt's head he can't decipher. “What do you mean same side?!? Who the hell are you?!” Newt hears Thomas spit out at the familiar soldier, he pushes the masked man who was previously holding him down with ease. The soldier stares at Newt and the group and just as he removes his mask the similar feeling Newt got in his gut clicks in his brain.

Gally’s alive.

“Hey greenie.” gally announces, newt stares at him in pure shock. Gally’s alive?! How?! The image of him on the floor, spear in his chest flashes in newts mind, how could he have possibly survived? This thought is cut short when Newt notices Thomas's stance. His fists are balled up, nails pressing into his palm hard, pure fury partially simmering off him. He stands still for a moment before punching jaw straight into the jaw.

He hears frypan scream out to thomas for him to stop, Newt runs towards him guns drawn in thomas’s direction. “Tommy stop, stop, stop.” he barely manages to yell out as he kneels beside him, he makes an attempt to grab his arm but his grip fails him as Thomas slips from his hand and punches him again with ease. This time drawing blood, he winds his arm up to hit him again. His jaw clenched and brows furrowed tightly, his eyes bulging wide in resentment and wrath at the boy below him. But this time newt grips thomas’s wrist hard, newt and thomas’s knuckles go white. “Thomas.” Newt warns steadily. 

“He- he killed chuck.” he struggles to spit out, eyes never leaving Gallys now bleeding nose. Thomas’s arm shakes in Newt's hand in rage, but makes no attempt to slip from Newt's now unforgiving grip. “Yeah I know, I know. I was there too, remember?” Newt's voice is no longer filled with threat but instead his tone is calm in an attempt to rationalize with thomas. “And I also remember he was stung and half out of his mind.” Newt reminds Thomas of the state Gally was in, Thomas's eyes still locked on Gallys face. Newt looks around at the many armed soldiers surrounding them. “Just calm down, alright?” Newt faces Thomas again and for the first time since Thomas punched Gally he looks at Newt, rage still remains but with a clear sense of understanding. 

Thomas pushes himself off of gally quickly, newt following as well as he stands to his own feet next to him. After a bit of back and forth Newt and everyone else find out that gally can get them through wicked walls, at first thomas was reluctant to go anywhere with gally but after some convincing from Gally they were on their way to see a guy called “lawrence” 

On the way, Gally explains how Lawrence and his army found him and took him in as a soldier, and that they are at war with wicked. As Newt walks down the path to get to Lawrence the smell of rotting flesh and.. Roses? Attack his nose violently, he resists the urge to scrunch up his face in a weak attempt to escape the sickening smell. He hears faint mumbling about.. Noses and roses, he shoots Thomas a quick look. No wonder this guy doesn't get many visitors, he communicates silently. Thomas presses his lips into a line resisting a smile and quickly nods before facing forward once more.

Gally explains what happened and how they can get through the walls with Thomas's help, the man slowly turns towards them and limps forward, the sun making the man's grotesque face visible. Thick black veins line half the man's face even with small holes resembling barnacles, his eyes an unnaturally sickly shade. The most prominent feature is its lack of nose. Newt doesn't miss how Thomas's eyes light up, as if in some sort of understanding while the man proposes his deal. The crank and Thomas work out a deal quickly, He helps us get in for an exchange for serum. When Lawrence explains only two can go Thomas immediately picks Newt, Newt of course agrees because 1. He doesn't want to leave Thomas's side and 2. He promised to stay by Thomas's side at all times. And stay he will. 

Newt walks over to Gally who's pulling a metal off of a round hole. Gally grabs a ladder and slowly lowers it into the darkness, Newt swallows at the sight and tries to ignore the pit in his gut that tells him he will meet his demise if he goes down the ladder. Newt sees in the corner of his eye that Thomas's shoulder has a quick muscle spasm, his eyes almost seem angry at nothing at all. Newt assumes the anger is towards Gally, Newt squeezes Thomas's bicep and that seems to pull him away from his anger, Thomas looks at Newt as if being pulled back to reality and smiles almost gratefully. Newt smiles back, the fear in his gut turns into worry for thomas. He has seemed off since the tunnel and newt hasn't had a moment alone with him to ask about it, he decides tonight when they all go to sleep he will ask thomas about it. 

When Newt's feet hit the floor of the grimy wet tunnel he groans at the pungent scent that creeps up his nose and down his throat, he can practically taste the mold and germs sitting in the water. Newt, Thomas and Gally all walk through the tunnel in silence until they reach a small hole that gally leads them through. During this whole ordeal thomas’s eyes flick around at the slightest noise as if that alone will kill him, what could possibly have him so on edge?? 

Gally crouched at the exit of the small tunnel they were now crouched in, shouts that they need to be quick and just as the train wheezing by him disappears he quickly looks left and right before shouting “OK LETS GO” before hauling himself onto the train tracks, Newt and Thomas following close behind. “You love trains, don't you tommy?” Newt says playfully as gally places the metal grate back onto the tunnel they just exited. “We’ll see another one real soon! CMON!!” gally shouts the last word as he quickly breaks in a spirit forwards, newt spiriting after him with Thomas following close behind. Newt focuses on his breathing as he runs, remembering his days as a runner. In, out, in, out he repeats to himself in his mind, desperately trying to keep his bad leg stable.

Thomas shouts out a question Gally's way that Newt doesn't catch as his leg screams in protest, most days his leg was fine but it seems to play up at the worst of times. Like right now. The train tracks rattle loudly as the train follows them in quick pursuit, Newt feels the muscles in his legs weaken and he starts to limp along as fast as he can. Thomas manages to over take Newt “CMON NEWT WE GOTTA MOVE” he shrieks loudly as he runs past, Newt sees gally pull down a ladder and just as his foot touches the first step newt's leg gives out and he falls onto the tracks.

His heart pounds in his ears when his cheek hits the metal, the feeling of impending doom washes over his whole body when he feels the rubble of the train against his body. I'm not gonna make it, he realizes, the thought echoes in his mind so loud he doesnt make out Thomas's screams over Gallys footsteps rushing toward him. He only realizes what gally is doing when his body is on top of him pressing him hard into the tracks yelling at him to stay down, the train groans above him as it screeches along the tracks. Pain shoots through his entire body as gally presses him against the hard unforgiving metal. Once the train passes he groans in pain as he allows gally to pull him up, “we never were great runners were we newt?” “Well I only have one good leg,” Newt shoots back. “Yeah well i only have one good lung” he responds back in the same manner, that's when Newt feels familiar arms wrap around him as they have so many times before.

Thomas pulls Newt into a frantic embrace, before Newt can even reciprocate, Thomas pulls away and grabs at Newt's wrist checking his pulse for a second as if to check if what he's seeing is really true. His eyes flick down newts entire body and back up to his eyes before asking, “you good?” newt puts his hand on Thomas's shoulder giving it a quick squeeze before saying “I'm fine, we better go alright?” Newt nods towards gally who's walking off over to the ladder a few meters away, adrenaline seeps out of him slowly as his heart returns to its normal rate. Thomas nods and they walk towards the ladder.

—

Newt can't get the image of Thomas's face when he sees Teresa through that telescope out of his mind, the way his eyes sunk into pure fury and hatred seems off. Very off. Newt had seen Thomas mad before, no doubt about it but this was different. This was new, something dangerous. Even as the way there way back out of wicked, through the train tracks and all the way to the map room he barely spoke.

Once everyone was in the map room planning on how to get Teresa the next night Thomas didn't even look like he was present in his own body, newt couldn't focus on Gally or Brenda slaving over details and what to do if B happens instead of A. he couldn't pull his attention away from Thomas. At one point Thomas's eyes flickered like he had just been stabbed in the gut, he scrunched his eyes closed and dug his fingernails deep into his palms. Newt tried so hard to concentrate on the maps and the plan but when Newt noticed that Thomas was drawing blood he couldn't do it. Newt squeezed Thomas's knee trying to bring him back to the present but instead Thomas yanked his leg away and buried his face in his bloody hands. 

“So that's when Thomas- greenie are you listening?” gally spat angrily when Thomas did not respond for the 4th time during the meeting, gally didn't seem to notice the fact that Thomas was clearly in pain from something, instead of responding Thomas mumbled incoherently to himself. “Gally leave him.” Newt spat back in Thomas's defense, anger bubbling in his own throat now. Newt didn't know why Thomas was acting like this but there had to be a reason because he's never done this before, ever. “This was his whole fucking idea newt!!” gally yelled, waving his arm around to emphasize his point. Thomas’s breathing got heavy and loud, as if he had just ran for hours. He stood up and went to storm out, just as he got to the door his figure encased by the lack of light gally grabbed him by the collar and went to speak before Thomas spoke in a low guttural tone

“dont touch me.” before yanking Gally's arm off him and storming out, blood seeping from his hands. 

Gally stumbled back into the light, Gallys face changed from anger to realization. He was speechless as if he just got told the most shocking news of his life. Newt stood up so quick he almost tripped over his own two feet, he walked past gally for a moment he felt Gally try to pull him back. Without a word Newt shoved himself away from him and flung open the door and walked out, his eyes flicking to the ground following the light drops of blood which lead to a door on his right with the handle smudged in blood. He cautiously opens the door to find an unused storage room, the left wall covered in empty shelves and the right mostly covered in shelves except in the far right corner. 

Thomas was sat in the vacant corner, knees to his chest with his face buried in between his knees. He no longer looks to be in intense pain so that's a plus, newt cautiously walked towards him and slid down the wall and sat next to thomas. Making sure not to make contact as he did. “Tommy you have been off for a while, what's wrong?” Newt asked gently but cutting straight to the chase. Thomas did not respond for a moment as if he was struggling to decide whether he should tell him or not, as if this was the final piece of the puzzle. Newt's brain flashed an image like an echo in his head. 

EARLY WARNING SIGNS OF THE FLARE INCLUDE:

Changes in personality such as: (irritability, unprovoked anger-

…

Thomas has the flare.  

He immediately remembers how back in the tunnel how he hesitated when the crank punched through the window. The guilt and shame wrapping around his neck and strangling him like a noose, in an instant he feels his whole world fall apart. Thomas can't have the flare, Tommy can't have the flare. He can't. He just simply can't. This isn't a possibility in Newt's brain. And Newt had run over every single possibility he could possibly think of, most ending in his own death but Thomas with the flare? The reality of the situation pulls him back to reality. Newt can wallow in his guilt later, Thomas needs him. 

Thomas looks up at Newt as if he heard Newt's thought’s out loud, his face smudged slightly with blood including his hands. His eyes vacant as he smiles up at Newt. 

“Can i-?” Newt gestures to Thomas's jacket, Thomas nods weakly. Thomas sits with his legs crossed facing Newt, Newt sits on his knees looking down at him. Newt slowly unzips Thomas's jacket and sees his once white shirt stained with red across the top of Thomas's left collar bone to the middle of his chest, three rips across that look like claws. Newt's eyes widen in shock once he sees the faint black veins pulsing around the wounds as if he didn't expect that, guilt tightens in his chest at the sight. He could have prevented this.

“I need to clean it” how newt managed to say that he won't ever know. Thomas pulls off his bag, opens it and pulls out old bandages, a rag and a bottle of rubbing alcohol to clean it. Newt silently lifts Thomas's shirt off and listens as his bloody shirt unsticks from his chest and how he sucks in a quick breath through his teeth from the pain, once Newt gets his shirt off he tries not to gasp at the proper sight. It's not the newt that hasn't seen him shirtless before because he has, it's the fact that it's spread remarkably fast. Way too fast for newts liking. The black slug-like veins are at least 5 inches away from the initial wounds, and somehow dirt has built up all in the wound. 

Newt silently reaches for the rag and drenches it in rubbing alcohol, trying desperately to hide his shock and worry. He gently cleans out his wounds and apologizes more than twice, not just for the pain from the rubbing alcohol but how this is entirely his fault that Thomas is infected. If he had just fucking shot that crank- 

“its not your fault.” newt doesn't acknowledge Thomas because if he does Newt knows he won't be able to stop himself from crying like a baby, he refuses to let himself cry. Thomas is infected, not him. After a moment or two he manages to croak out “if i just shot the fucking crank-” “no. I won't let you blame yourself for this. Alright? I won't have it.” Thomas says in a stern but somehow caring tone, Newt doesn't respond and finishes cleaning his wound. Luckily he won't need stitches so Newt grabs the bandages and softly wraps it around Thomas's chest, as if he wrapped it too tight Thomas would crack like a piece of glass. When he finishes he lets out a shaky breath he didn't realize he was holding and cups Thomas's face and finally brings himself to make eye contact with him. 

“You're going to be fine. You hear me? As long as I live I won't let you turn. You got that?” He tries to sound harsh and stubborn but his words wobble dangerously as he speaks. He's of course saying this for Thomas but more so for himself, to make an oath. I won't let Thomas die. Thomas nodded quietly as Newt spoke. Newt leans his back against the shelf behind him and allows Thomas to press his back against Newt's chest, Newt wraps his arms around the shorter boy's waist and gently kisses his hair. vulnerability such as this is reserved for Thomas and Thomas only. If this was anyone else he would have demanded them that they cannot give up. He has done this for Thomas before but this situation requires tenderness and care that Newt is more than happy to give to Thomas. Newt presses his face into Thomas' hair, breathing him in. Newt feels Thomas's muscles relax as he rests the back of his head on Newt's shoulder. Newt takes in Thomas's face in its entirety, the way his jaw relaxes when he isn't concentrated, how his brown lashes curl up ever so slightly, Newt finds himself counting the freckles Thomas had gained since being out in the scorch. He counts up to 9.

He watches as Thomas's eyes get heavy and shut slowly as he gives into sleep. The others can come find them for all newt cares, in fact newt only cares about one thing and one thing only.

Thomas’s survival.

I won't let Thomas die. 

author note: guys how are we feeling...? 😰 we doing alright?? 😭 sorry for any mistakes btw, i will try an upload the next chapter soonish maybe the end of the week if I'm motivated because i somehow pumped this out in less then 2 days 😔 also expect LOTS of ProtectiveNewt™️ next chapter lol, this is the first proper fic i have ever posted on tumblr so im lowkey shitting myself

ALSO did anyone spot thg reference I made?? 🤨

NEXT

[katerina-marie]

Don't Go Slowly, Tell Me If You're Lonely (Series)

Chapter 5

Gojo Satoru x Reader & (Past) Geto Suguru x Reader

Your relationship with Geto Suguru came to an end somewhere between the day of his betrayal and the day of his death. Your relationship with Gojo Satoru began somewhere in the midst of it all, even without you realizing.

WC: 11.8k (whew)

Content: Canon Divergence, Gojo x Female Reader (referred to as such but left descriptively vague), (past) Geto Suguru x Female Reader, Geto's canonical death, friends to lovers, angst, eventual happy ending, fluff, reader is a sorcerer (left vague tho), no use of y/n, vaginal sex (though not super explicit) so please avoid accordingly! More notes below.

Chapter Count: Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3, Chp 4, Chp 5, Chp 6 (Final)

Notes: Peep the cw, because in case you missed it there will be 18+ content in this chapter. But warning, I do not have the talent to write explicitly detailed sex so it's more narrative/vaguely described. I applaud all authors that have that ability! Also, this is 99% fluff and vibes because that's what we all need, right?

P.S. If anyone recognizes where part of the title/included line is from.....no you don't and I'm sorry, not sorry lol

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

Chapter 5: Heart of None, Heart of One (Don't Be Afraid, I Feel It Too)

Neither you or Suguru were dressed for the affluence of this particular part of the city, the two of you wearing light and airy clothing to help ward off the oppressiveness of the summer sun. Names of restaurants and boutiques that you hardly recognized lined each side of the street full of ostentatious vehicles, and you couldn’t help but wonder why exactly Suguru had dragged you to a place neither of you had any real business being in. His fingers were twined through each of yours and had been since the two of you hopped off the train to begin your stroll towards a destination unknown. You weren’t sure if he was being intentionally vague with where you were going, or if Suguru had failed to think any further than necessary and inform you of your day’s plans. 

Men and their inability to consider five minutes ahead of themselves for anyone else’s sake. 

You passed a building with black bricks and golden writing emblazoning its name above the door, and you felt your mouth begin to water as you recognized that the style of the restaurant lended itself to your favorite foreign food. A certainly more upscale version of it anyway, if the valet’s podium and immaculately dressed patrons were any indication. 

“We should come here one day, Suguru,” you told him wistfully, inhaling deep the scent of rich food before it faded from your nose as your steps took you further and further away. Suguru huffed a noncommittal chuckle and gave you an incredulous look of question. 

“Sure, I’ll just swipe Satoru’s credit card when he isn’t looking and we’ll have ourselves a night out.” His voice was full of sarcastic humor and you rolled your eyes at him, because of course you were aware that your meager student allowances couldn’t afford such luxury, nor would Satoru be willing to part with his card without an invitation to join what would have been a date night for the two of you. The idea of it was fun to imagine in the least, and you filed the name of the restaurant away in the back of your mind for an unspecified day in the future somewhere. 

“So what are we doing here?” you asked, peering around the city as you both came to a crosswalk and minded the traffic currently flowing through it. “I can’t say that I have a suspicion, and I would like to enjoy the last afternoon of the weekend together if you don’t have something already planned.”

Suguru was quiet as he glanced up and down the street once the vehicles cleared the road, and he tugged at your hand to spur you into movement once the signal had been given to ensure your safe crossing.

“We are having to make a quick stop to retrieve something,” he said, intentionally avoiding your narrowed eyes by keeping himself one step ahead of you. You’d yank your arm back and hold your ground in a juvenile display of defiance at his reticence, but you didn’t favor being run over in the middle of the street, nor were you confident of your victory in strength should it be put up against his; you’d count on being pulled along no matter how hard you dug your heels in. 

“And what is it that we are retrieving?” You grew annoyed at Suguru’s reluctance to speak anymore than what was barely necessary, and now that the two of you were again on the safety of the sidewalks, you had half a mind to start testing his patience as he was doing yours. Your boyfriend must have been able to pick up on the change in your disposition, and he turned to you with a weary sigh as the two of you came to a stop. 

“Satoru called me earlier,” Suguru admitted, and your face dropped into distaste, mouth open to offer your dissent for whatever moronic task your boyfriend’s best friend has saddled the two of you with, but he shot you a warning glare that stayed your tongue. “He’s still on that assignment, but he forgot to finish up his reports for the last one and Yaga’s going to have his ass if he doesn’t turn them in first thing tomorrow. I told him we’d take care of it this once.” 

You scoffed, offended disbelief fueling your ire for the white-haired sorcerer, and you fixed your withering look on Suguru.

“You coddle him,” you hissed, promptly snatching your hand from his and marching forward on your own even though you hadn’t the faintest clue to where you were. The surrounding buildings were no longer fancy restaurants and expensive retailers but instead towering, dark-windowed monoliths with impressive double glass doors at their entrance. Still swanky, but more unassuming. 

“I’m helping,” Suguru argued, jogging up to your side to keep pace with you. “Friends do that for each other.” 

“I mean, yeah they do, but this feels more like Satoru is intentionally being lazy, unable to deign himself to possibly do his own work and would rather put it off to the less fortunate of us.” Your tone was scathing and your words mean for meanness sake, even if they held a scant bit of truth, and from the look on your boyfriend’s face he didn’t appreciate the disparaging of his best friend’s character. You supposed Satoru could now be considered your friend as well, now that nearly a year and a half had passed since you met your significant other’s “other”, but it had been slow building between you and Satoru, if not for the complete opposite personalities and upbringings you each had then for becoming accustomed to sharing Suguru. 

“Cut him some slack,” Suguru said, his expression knowing and slightly irritated, but his voice for you was softer than it was moments ago, and he brought you to a halt with a hand on your shoulder. “I’m not ignoring the fact that Satoru is not the most apt student when it comes to his paperwork or always considerate of other people’s time, but he has a full plate and even heavier burden attached to his name, so I’ll let it slide sometimes.” 

You weren’t sure if you’d agree, but you didn’t want to taint the afternoon with Suguru just because of your disdain for Satoru’s lack of planning, so you gave him a half-hearted shrug and glanced over his shoulder at the building the two of you came to a stop in front of.

“This it?” 

Suguru nodded and took your hand again to lead you through the frosted glass doors serving as the entrance. “He has an apartment here for when he wants solitude, so we’ll just pop in to grab the reports and then be on our way. We’ll stop for lunch after, how about that?” 

The noise of affirmation you made lacked enthusiasm, mostly because you had been thoroughly chastised by your boyfriend and not because you didn’t want to share a meal out with him, but Suguru was undeterred and you turned your attention to the details of the front lobby. The high walls were painted alabaster and arched over certain hallways you guessed lead to various amenities. The slightly darker beige floors gleamed under rich lighting, leaving the forest green and muted mahogany fabrics of plush looking couches and other luxe decor to stand out in their superiority. You and Suguru continued through an archway and came upon an older man situated at a stately wood desk sandwiched between floor-to-ceiling glass doors that prohibited your entrance. You bristled at the idea of having to convince someone to allow you through to somewhere the two of you didn’t look to belong, or worse, have to stand by the desk as other residents came and went while Suguru beckoned Satoru to pick up his phone and petition you two through. However, to your shock, Suguru simply smiled and waved at the gentleman—who returned his greeting in kind—and he had the glass doors sliding open with a touch of a button just in time for the two of you to walk through them.

“A silver spoon Satoru does use,” you commented wryly. The two of you stepped into an open elevator, and you were pleased to see a stifled grin on Suguru’s face. 

“That I won’t deny,” he said, pressing the button for an obnoxiously high floor. You chattered between yourselves about lunch options and other plans for the rest of the day whilst traveling up, and your arrival to Satoru’s floor was announced with a pleasant trilling of a bell. As you walked down a hallway, you took notice of the distance between the doors of each dwelling, marking the considerable size of each one. Suguru came to a stop at the very end of the hall and pressed a series of numbers into a shiny keypad before motioning you through the now opened door. 

Satoru’s apartment was as beautiful as you imagined, with its sprawling living area and enormous windows the first thing to appear after making it through the entrance, and then an extensive gourmet kitchen was located on the left. There were a couple other hallways you assumed lead to various rooms, and you had a thought to explore (snoop) when you felt a hand at your back.

“Satoru should have some sweets in his fridge,” Suguru said, dropping a brief kiss at your temple and then another at your cheek as he brushed by you. “I’m going to his office right quick if you want to help yourself. It’s the least he can offer.” 

That brought a grin to your face, and you immediately turned towards the kitchen as Suguru’s footsteps faded in the opposite direction. Satoru’s fridge was nearly twice your height and the stainless steel was polished so perfectly that you could nearly see your reflection in it. It was all so grandiose, but the excitement immediately abated when you opened the fridge and saw nothing but a couple bags of sweets and water bottles taking up a minute amount of its expansive capacity. You grabbed one of each and brought them to the large island across from the fridge and tucked into your snack. As you munched, you let your eyes drift from space to space, everything meticulously placed and artfully decorated. Though you couldn’t help but notice the absence of anything that made it personal. There were no photos or cookbooks or trinkets of any kind. The copious amounts of furnishings and state of the art appliances all made up an impressive looking home anyone would be thrilled to make use of, but there was not one sign of usage or life that would indicate that Satoru did anything of the sort. The thought humbled your opinion of him a touch, and the quiet melancholy of his apartment made the sweet in your mouth taste oddly of cardboard.

How lonely. 

Now, years later, as you marveled up at the building that scraped the sky, you wondered if Satoru was sitting in the quiet of his apartment cutting a lonesome figure and feeling as such. 

You had taken most of the morning to scour the school grounds in pursuit of him, but no evidence had turned up to support his stay there. Megumi had confirmed it when you ran into him in your frenzied search and mentioned that Satoru had texted him to cancel their end-of-week training because he’d be off campus. The thought of having to transport yourself all the way to that part of the city where his apartment was located felt daunting in your exhaustion, but when you closed your eyes or let your mind wander, the images of Suguru and Satoru walking away from you after turning their backs superimposed over each other and sent a new wave of panic over you every time. 

So you cleaned yourself up the best you could in the least amount of time you were willing to give, and then set out on a train. After that, the walk from the station to his apartment was about ten minutes, but you had only been there once, and you had started to worry when recognition of the area still hadn’t struck. You were only half certain you had found the correct building until you made your way inside the lobby and found familiarity in the arch of the walls and luxuriousness of the furnishings. Ahead, still seated at the same wooden desk, was the gentleman from the one time you had visited with Suguru. Age had greyed his hair and added lines under his eyes, but you recognized him the same. As you walked up to his desk with a nervous smile, you hoped you looked more put together than you felt, and you had just opened your mouth to try and convince him to let you up when he grinned at you. 

“For Gojo, right?” 

You were taken aback at the friendliness in his voice and the expectant way he looked up at you from where he was seated, and you were sure your mouth had flopped open inelegantly. “Uh, yes, but how did you—,” 

“Years ago, he left me a photo of you and a man with black hair and explicit instructions to let either of you up at any time without questions asked.” The gentleman glanced down at his desk and you could just make out his hand scribbling at a large notepad. When he looked back up at you, his gaze was inquisitive. “I just barely remember you from the one time you came with him—the boy appeared often enough that I recognized him—but I haven’t seen either of you since.” There wasn’t any judgment in his voice, just simple observation, but the whole encounter was picking at the fraying threads of your already frail emotions. 

“Yes,” you bit out, swallowing to clear the hoarseness of your voice, “it’s certainly been, uhm, a long time and…” There wasn’t anything you could come up with to fit into a brief enough explanation, and thankfully the gentleman picked up on that fact. 

“Would you like me to call up to him and let him know you’re here?” He offered, his hand already drifting towards a phone on the edge of his desk. You shook your head and flailed your hands in an effort to dissuade him from doing so. 

“No, no, please. I’m…surprising him.”  

The man smiled gently and gestured with his head towards the glass doors as he opened them with a push of a button. “Off you go then.” 

You gave him a hurried thanks and rushed off through the doors before you could lose what little courage remained in you, and when the elevator shut just after you stepped through it, you leaned back against the wall of it to take in large mouthfuls of air. Satoru was definitely home, and you maybe had two minutes to compose yourself into something presentable before you were face to face with him. You took it as a positive sign that he hadn’t immediately revoked your extended invitation into his building (unless he had simply forgotten to and now you had another idea to fret at) and you hoped that when you knocked at his door he would neither ignore you entirely or answer and then proceed to slam it shut in your face. If you made it far enough that he welcomed you in, you had absolutely no idea what you were to say to him, and the pinging of the elevator bell signaling your arrival to his floor made it clear you were running out of time to come up with anything. 

Your steps on the tile echoed loudly in the empty hallway, and you were positive it was your tired mind that made them sound reminiscent of Satoru’s name. By the time you came to his door, it was ringing in your ears and beating to the same rhythm of your pulse, and you wondered if Satoru could hear it from wherever in his apartment he remained hidden from you. The stress of it had you wanting to linger outside to come up with a speech or some kind of plan before you knocked on his door, but the thought that he could sense you waiting—hesitating—drove you deeper into embarrassment, so you lifted your hand to knock your knuckles against the door without a second consideration. The time it took for him to answer left your thoughts to scramble. 

Would he look at you with the same anger he surely saw reflected in your own eyes just hours prior? You figured you both had a right to feel such a way, but whereas you had hurled word after word of condemnation at him without ceasing, regardless of their truth or lack thereof, he hadn’t been given a moment to offer scant more than a stuttered reply. Was it presumptuous to have the hope that he would repay you in kind? That he would offer what you hadn’t and listen to what you had to say? Never again did you want to live with the regret of last words unspoken.

The beeping of his door unlocking snagged your attention, and you inhaled sharply when the knob began to turn. Through a small crack in the door, you saw Satoru peer his head around it, just offering you a sliver of a singular blue eye and the glimpse of a closed off expression on his face. You tangled your fingers together in the hope he didn’t see them shaking, and you gave him the barest of contrite smiles.

“May I come in?” 

Satoru didn’t hesitate to give a single nod of his head and you took a step back when he pushed open the door wide enough for you to walk through, murmuring a small ‘thank you’ as you passed by him. You didn’t wait for him to continue further into his apartment, eager to get out of the small entryway and into the openness of his living space if only so you could feel slightly less confined. In a quick glance around, you noticed that Satoru’s apartment looked nearly identical to how it did the one and only time you visited it. There was still a museum-esque quality to the cleanliness of it, but you could see a half-full glass of water on the island in his kitchen, and you had spied his pair of black shoes by the door next to where you had toed yours off. 

The susurration of his house shoes on the wood floor could be heard coming up behind you, and you turned slowly to face him. You took in his casual clothes, a dark grey sweater and navy lounge pants, and noticed him doing the same to your similar but more feminine outfit. When your eyes met, it pained you to see how his were guarded, lacking their usual brightness and enthusiasm, and you knew it was somewhat your fault. 

“I should have let you talk more,” you blurted, head cleared of any logical thought. “I was within my right to be angry with you, but I should have heard you out, and I’m sorry I didn’t.” 

Satoru’s expression eased and you wrung your hands. “I want to respect your space. I’m willing to give that to you, but I’m afraid of leaving things unsaid and—,” 

You were horrified when your eyes began to sting and the inside of your nose burned. You flicked your focus down to the floor in the hopes that not looking at him would keep you composed enough to get the rest of your words out. “If you’re willing, I’d like to talk this out with you. I would hate for things to end the way they did.” 

When you looked back up at him, his eyes were wide, and Satoru shuffled forward to reach a hand out to press against the back of your arm. “Of course,” he said, his voice so emphatically eager that it panged your heart. “Of course I’ll listen to you.” 

The pressure of his hand guided you towards the ample seating in his living room, and the two of you made yourselves comfortable on the sofa placed in front of a massive entertainment system. Satoru sat just far away enough that two of you wouldn’t touch, but he laid out his arm along the back of the sofa, turned on his hip, and leaned forward slightly on his thigh so he could face you. You mirrored his position but kept your hands in your lap. 

“I don’t hate you. I never could,” you breathed out, and a part of you died inside when relief slackened Satoru’s features and his shoulders lowered as tension bled out from them. “I was angry, and maybe even felt a little betrayed, but it wasn’t you I hated.” 

There must have been a stricken look on your face, because his hand that rested on the back of the sofa lifted and hovered in the air for a moment before he moved it close enough that he could just graze his fingertips along the top of your arm. 

“I think I hated him. I hated Suguru in that split second.” The words felt heavy and disjointed in your mouth, not quite understood by your brain, but you felt palpable liberation once they were out. Satoru kept his eyes on you attentively, and you were powerless to the words that spilled from your tongue. 

“I hated him for what he did. I hated that he left me, and I hated that he chose to speak with you one last time instead of me. I hated that you had to kill him, and that we have to wake up everyday to live in the aftermath of it.” You were interrupted by a hiccuping cry that forced its way through your teeth, and when you looked up at Satoru helplessly, his hands shot out to take yours into his own. 

“But not you, I would never hate you,” you said once you had regained your composure, “and I would like to hear what you have to say. To help me understand what you were going through and why you made the choice to keep what Suguru said a secret until now. I’d like us to be completely understanding of the other, with the intention of being able to move forward.” 

Feeling much like you had just finished a sprint, you drew in a few deep breaths to steady the racing of your heart and calm the adrenaline running through your body. Satoru didn’t look angry or upset. He had an open, albeit cautious, look on his face and he studied your hands in his grasp momentarily before gently releasing them, and you both withdrew your hands to let them rest on your respective laps. 

“It was panic,” he started, pausing to meet your eyes. “I was so panicked that evening, about what I had just done and how I was supposed to reveal that to you. I could barely think straight enough to tell you I killed him, and I couldn’t stomach the idea of having to relay to you what Suguru said when I could hardly make sense of it myself.” 

You watched Satoru closely as he wiped his hands down over his legs and you both heard and felt the stuttered breath he pushed out from deep in his chest.

 “I’m not saying that to excuse my behavior, but it felt like the easiest thing to do for myself at that moment, and I regret it. If I could go back…well, I don’t actually know what I would have done.” Satoru inched a little closer to you and raised a questioning brow. “Would you have been okay if I had told you that he had said something, but couldn’t yet share it with you? Would have it been better to tell you everything he said, but warned you that I didn’t have the capacity to explore the implications of it right then with you? Or—god—I should have told you at any point between then and now.” 

The ideas Satoru was presenting caught you by surprise. You hadn’t ever really considered before what you had wanted to hear in the moments when your entire world was collapsing around you. Surely you would have wanted to know, but the anticipation of waiting to hear what those words would have been had you chosen the first option probably would have driven you to madness. In regards to the second, knowing what Suguru had said would have prevented the whole mess the two of you were in now. However, knowing yourself, you very well might have fled the school like you did to avoid discussing things with Satoru once he was ready, keen on never once touching such a topic for the rest of your life, and who knows what outcome would have resulted from that. And him revealing what Suguru said any time after that day and between now would have mostly likely played out the same way it did last night.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly, and you couldn’t help but let out a tired laugh. “Either alternative has its merits and its corresponding negatives. In the future, I think open communication would be best, but for things past I don’t see much point in dwelling on what should have been.” 

Satoru nodded, seemingly agreeing with what you had said. You chewed your lip, considering the weight of the question you wanted to ask him before ultimately deciding that he deserved the chance to let himself be heard. 

“How have you been?” Your inquiry had his mouth opening to respond, but he was silent in the aftermath, and you assumed that he needed time to condense his thoughts into words. 

You empathized with that particular plight.  

“Tired,” he said finally, solemnly, and you moved closer towards him until your knees knocked against each other. “I would give anything to have a night’s rest where I didn’t dream about killing my best friend.” This time, you reached out your hand to grip his fingers in yours, and his answering smile was full of gratitude. “Or have a nightmare where you hate me,” he added, squeezing your hand to balm the sting of his words. 

The two of you were silent after that, each of you taking turns glancing at one another and then back at your tangled hands before focusing on anywhere else in the room. However, there was a collective sense of expectation hanging above you both, and you had a good idea of what topic was waiting to be broached. 

“Satoru,” you murmured, biting down on the inside of your cheek as he lifted his head to listen to you. There was trepidation in the way he held himself, and you wondered if he anticipated what you were going to say next. “I tried to kiss you.” 

He was rapt in his attention on you, his face giving away nothing as to what he was feeling, but he fiddled with your fingers and ran his thumb along the inside of your wrist. He ducked his head just barely, and when his hair shifted over his forehead, it was just enough to conceal his eyes from you. “You did.” 

Satoru’s evasion grated you, but you set aside your frustration to focus on what you were trying to convey to him, to get him to understand what you couldn’t even quite wrap your head around fully. 

“I don’t want you to feel obligated to me because of what Suguru said.” His head snapped up and his brows furrowed at your words, but you kept going before he had a chance to interrupt. “I think you probably have an idea about what I feel for you, but I don’t expect you to reciprocate just because you might have some misguided sense of duty or responsibility towards me, and I can forget about that near-kiss if that’s—,” 

“I want you,” Satoru said on a exhale, and he looked to be fighting a bashful grin that pulled at the corners of his mouth. Your noise of surprise filled the heady silence following his declaration, and you felt as though the two of you teetered on the edge of some great precipice. 

A quiet “oh,” was all you could get out, breathless in a mounting giddiness, and he chuckled at whatever flush warmed your cheeks before his features smoothed out into something more solemn. 

“I do,” he insisted, and you could sense the ‘but’ following his statement and it made all the butterflies that had erupted in your chest fall leadened into your stomach, “but I can’t help feeling a little…unsettled about it, maybe? Not in a bad way necessarily, never with you—,” 

Satoru stammered, an overwhelmed breath heaving his shoulders, and you watched him with a pang of sympathy as he struggled to grasp at the words clearly evading him. “I don’t want you to think I feel entitled to you, and I don’t feel like I’m betraying Suguru by wanting you. I don’t even think I need his permission or anything like that. In fact, he seemed to give it in his own twisted way that night, and it’s just…you were his, once, and now you’re…” 

He trailed off, at a loss for the proper words to adequately explain a concept you both seemed to wrestle with, and the look he gave you was helpless and beseeching in a way that was delightfully captivating to you: eyes wide, lips slightly parted, and if his gaze could be anymore adoring you’d melt into the fabric of his fine linen couch. 

What was previously off limits had become an alluring possibility. A person who had always occupied a strictly friendly role had begun to appear in a way not thought of before. It was overwhelming, exciting, terrifying in what it could mean to want someone who had once been unobtainable, who you had not once considered for yourself before the loss of someone precious to both of you. But Suguru was gone now, and what more could be owed to the two of you than indulging in a shared happiness?

You giggled, catching your bottom lip between your teeth to try and contain the smile that was surely about to overtake your face, and you tugged on Satoru’s hands to pull him in close to you. 

“Don’t be afraid,” you whispered, your voice light and playful while the blue of his eyes danced and his cheeks went round in elation, “I feel it too.” 

————————————————

Later, as you contemplated your existence in the quiet sanctuary of your room, you would berate yourself for not taking the opportunity to kiss Satoru senseless. Alas, you had remained dutiful to your mutual agreement to let the enormity of the morning settle before getting carried away with frenzied touches and the mingling of panted breaths. Instead, the two of you stayed seated on his couch for another hour, close in the way you had both drifted to lean against the other while chatting idly about anything ordinary. 

You had taken moments to gently lift strands of hair from his eyes, goosebumps erupting over your skin when his focus couldn’t decide whether to fix on your face or follow the movement of your hand. When you had later regaled him with a forgotten tale from your time abroad, Satoru had spent his time listening by swirling a finger over the top of your kneecap before letting it drift just slightly over your thigh so he could squeeze it gently. The pressure had you stuttering over your words, and you used the increased need to jump from your skin as an excuse to leap from the couch and beg for a glass of water. Satoru smirked at you in that annoyingly smug, but persistently charming habit of his, and had simply sauntered off to his kitchen to leave you to follow in his wake. 

When the afternoon sun began to push shadows further into the depths of his apartment, you begrudgingly announced your intended departure, pointing out to Satoru the exhaustion that clung to you both when he began to protest. A much-needed nap was in order, and he only surrendered his disagreement when you let out an exaggerated yawn. He followed you to the door with your sleeve caught between two of his fingers. The two of you stared at each other after you had slipped on your shoes, neither quite ready to bid the first goodbye. You eventually took the initiative to rock onto the tips of your toes and wrap your arms around his neck, resting your cheek on his shoulder as you squeezed him to you. Satoru arms circled your waist and after nudging his nose against the top of your head, you heard him breathe in deeply before letting it out in a long exhale, and the yearning of it made you ache. 

You had to pry yourself from him, and you didn’t turn to look back as you walked down the hallway lest you lose any remaining self control and skip your way back to Satoru. It was only once you crossed the threshold of the elevator that you heard the click of his door closing shut. If you had a dopey look on your face as you made your way home, evidenced by the knowing grin on the mouth of the gentleman working the door in the lobby, then who were you to deny it?

As you lay in your bed, huddled under blankets and your head cushioned by pillows while waiting for the swiftness of sleep to weigh down your eyes, you stared at a couple of pictures now decorating a small cork board hanging above your desk. None of them contained a singular person more present than the others and were all full of various friends and toothy grins. For once, the appearance of black hair and pierced ears didn’t evoke a dull throb in your chest at a future lost, but instead welcomed a feeling of contented nostalgia for memories treasured. When your eyes started to flutter and you sensed that your battle against sleep was coming to an end, the sight of brilliant blue from the corner of one photo held your fading attention and beckoned the prospect of enduring happiness by a relationship newly minted. 

————————————————

A dreary midmorning wasn’t something that could keep you cooped up on a Saturday free of obligation, and in an endeavor to make the most of your spare time, you busied yourself with errands in the city. If you found yourself standing in line outside the building of your favorite sweet shop, you would insist it was only to fill your own belly. Any extras that made it into your bag would surely serve as a snack over the rest of the weekend and not linger in your room in the hopes a certain white-haired man would make an appearance and find them. 

The thought of Satoru had you reaching for your phone as you shuffled another step further in line. You had texted Satoru a simple ‘good morning’ right before leaving your room then promptly threw the device into the bottom of your bag to be forgotten until after your errands. Otherwise, you would have worried yourself beyond what was considered healthy about whether or not that message presumed too much in light of yesterday’s breakthrough. 

Maybe overkill would lend itself to your passions too. 

To your dismay, your phone remained disappointingly devoid of new messages, but the sudden appearance of small raindrops on your screen took your attention before you could waste more time wishing it would flash with Satoru’s name. While the sky looked quite grey in your perusal of it, the drops never fell faster or increased in size while you waited for your turn to step into the shop, and you hoped the weather would stay its course until you returned home. Because you, in your distraction, had forgotten to snag your umbrella as you scurried out the door that morning. Instead of dwelling on your possible misfortune, you gave a cursory glance at the shop’s menu board sitting by the door and when you were nearly halfway through reading it, a shadow came over you. 

“Dessert for breakfast again?” 

You jerked your head towards the familiar voice and came face to face with Satoru. He hovered close enough to you so that the large umbrella he carried could shelter both him and yourself from the faint pattering of rain, and you met his beaming smile with one of your own. 

“Satoru! What are you doing here?” His arrival wasn’t at all expected, but you drank in the sight of him no less, pleased to see him in casual clothes instead of his uniform and sporting a black coat to ward off the last of the morning chill. 

“You know, just out and about,” he offered, and mischievousness made the corners of his mouth twitch. You suspected his eyes would twinkle just the same if you could see them through his blindfold. 

“Right,” you drew out, not quite sure if you believed that he just so happened upon you by chance, but you were too preoccupied with the fact he was standing in front of you again to question it any further. “Are you busy? Or do you have time to join me?” 

He was quick to nod, and you reached out to wrap your hand around his bicep when someone cleared their throat pointedly from behind. You jolted, heat flushing your neck and cheeks when you realized that there was a large gap in between you and the door to the shop, and you scurried forward. Satoru beat you to the door, swinging it open for you before you had a chance, and you ducked in while he sat his umbrella off to the side. 

You came to a stop a reasonable distance from the person in front of you and crossed your arms with a small huff as you pretended to study the variety of different sweets sitting in their display cases. Satoru’s coat brushed against your back as he came up behind you, and you prayed he didn’t notice the shiver that shook your shoulders when he leaned down to whisper right by your ear. 

“Distracted?” he asked, voice deeply flirtatious, and a scent a bit spicier than the mild soap you recall him smelling of wafted to your nose and made your thoughts hazy. 

“Nope,” you said as casually as you could manage, trying your best to make a mental note of what options you wanted to order so that you didn’t look like a bumbling fool when it was your turn. His answering chuckle was not only heard, but felt against your back. 

“You sure about that?” 

You whipped your head to the side to glare at him out of the corner of your eye, and your cheek nearly made contact with the tip of his nose. “Positive.” 

There would never be any certainty with his eyes hidden, but you swore you could feel his gaze on your lips, and if you ignored the thought and turned your attention back to what was in front of you, it was only because there was nothing you could do about it in a crowded little sweets shop. 

Thankfully—begrudgingly—it was your turn to order, and you stepped away from Satoru and approached the counter while taking in a much needed deep breath. He didn’t stray far from you, however, and you were conscious of how he lingered at your side while you ordered a couple things for yourself and one or two for Nanami in exchange for the few times he had bought you something from the bakery. 

You were just about to pay for your portion when Satoru came up and bumped you aside with his hip and a smirk on his face, and you watched with mild horror as the employee set down a bag of sweets nearly bulging in its fullness. 

“You have a problem,” you commented warily, imagining the amount of sugar in that bag alone and feeling phantom pain in your teeth. You eyed Satoru as he placed down his card to pay for both orders. 

“If you say so.” His shrug was light hearted and drenched in boyish charm, and you shook your head at him. Before he could find any more opportunities to indulge random acts of chivalry, you swiped your bag off the counter and made haste for the exit, pausing only to throw a wink over your shoulder as you stepped outside the door. You barely caught his indignant protest as he finished up his transaction but paid it no mind as you bent down to grab his umbrella and trotted off down the sidewalk. You only made it to a cross walk a couple yards down and had to come to a stop before he was jogging up to your side. 

“Rude,” Satoru pouted, sidling up next to you to slip the opened umbrella from your hand. 

“I can’t let people think I willingly associate myself with someone who has the taste buds of a child.” You giggled and snuck your hand in the slim space between his side and his arm to curl your fingers into the crook of his elbow. Something fluttered pleasantly in your belly when the action softened the deepening frown on his face. 

“Not all of us can have such sophisticated palettes,” he grumbled, but you could see the hint of a smile on his cheeks, so you leaned just a little further into his side. The delicate kiss he dropped onto your temple had you choking down any retort you were prepared to give him back, and the two of you stood in shy silence until the traffic signal changed in your favor. 

“Follow me to the school?” you asked, already in motion by the time the words left your mouth, and the answering look Satoru gave you made it clear that he never intended anything else. 

————————————————

Twenty minutes later had the two of you back at the school and seated on Satoru’s coat under the large tree nestled in the corner of the campus training grounds.

“Leave my bag alone,” you hissed, slapping at the wandering hand Satoru kept trying to sneak into your own stash of sweets. 

“I wanted to try one of yours. They’re different,” he whined. He stretched over your lap in an attempt to grab said bag from where you had moved it to your other side, but you stopped his progress with a hand on his chest. You pushed back against him until he was seated again. 

“No, what’s left are mine and the ones I bought for Nanami.”

“Nanami?” he asked in offended disbelief. “And you didn’t think to get any for me?”

“I’m surprised they aren’t already in your bag, Satoru. I think you bought the whole store,” you said, feeling a little sick to your stomach when you took note of the dwindling size of his own purchase. He scoffed in disapproval and hunched down further against the tree the two of you were resting against. His antics had your eyes rolling, but you went ahead and pulled one of your treats out from the bag as you had intended to do before he decided to try and pilfer them on his own. 

“Here,” you told him, feigning the exasperation in your voice. You held the treat out in your hand, expecting him to take it from you with his own, but Satoru—with uncovered eyes gleaming—leaned forward and ate the snack right from your fingers. You had a brief second to register the heat of his lips and the way his teeth had just grazed your skin before he was sitting back with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. 

“Tasty,” he said, looking all too pleased with himself, and all you could do was sit there with your heart pounding. The thought of kissing Satoru had been plaguing your mind since even before the two of you had fought, and now, when his lips were flushed pink and there were crystals of sugar caught on a corner of them, you were weak in your resolve. 

You curled your fingers into the neck of his shirt and pulled him in to meet you, eyes already closing so you didn’t scare yourself out of the idea if there was a shocked look on his face. Your lips met his with an urgency, but you were mindful not to clash teeth or press too hard, and you felt marginally better when Satoru knocked his nose against yours in order to tilt his head and deepen the kiss. His chilled fingertips were a shock to your skin when they settled on the edge of your cheek and under your jaw, and he hummed pleasantly into the kiss when he felt you jump. Satoru’s other arm came to wrap around your back, and his fingers dug into your shirt when you used the tip of your tongue to swipe away any remaining sugar on his lips. 

You were vaguely aware of Satoru pressing closer to you, inching you back incrementally, but you were too lost in the feel of his mouth moving against yours and slipping your arms up and around his neck to pay much mind to it. So when you felt yourself falling back against the ground with Satoru’s hand bracing the back of your head it didn’t trigger the urge to stop, especially not when his free hand landed heavily in the dirt next to your head so he could lower himself down and chase after your lips. However, you could only avoid the cold wet of the ground seeping through your collar for so long, not to mention the fact you two were in public, and you ducked your chin slightly to break away from Satoru. 

“It’s unlikely,” you murmured, feeling him trail his mouth over your cheek to press a kiss just below your ear, “but any of our students—or our peers—could walk by at any given moment.” 

The noise of disagreement he made tickled the skin under your ear that he was nibbling at, but you didn’t have to tell him twice before he was pulling away just hair. All you could see above you was white eyelashes framing bright blue eyes, and the tips of his hair tickled your forehead when Satoru lowered himself just a little so he could nudge his nose into your cheek affectionately. 

“You’re not wrong,” he sighed, sitting himself back up and tugging you along with him by your arm. You pat down your hair and brush some dirt from your sleeves while keeping a watchful eye on his expression from your peripheral. Satoru didn’t seem particularly disappointed or upset at your words, but you, in your habit, worried about the implication of them anyway. 

“I’m not embarrassed,” you reassured him, drawing his focus as you hurried to get your thoughts out to him. “I’m not ashamed to be seen with you either, but this is…” you trailed off as words failed you. 

This was new and something precious to you. For the first time in years, you had someone by your side that cared to know everything you thought and longed to be near you. It was all a touch overwhelming to fall for someone you hadn’t ever pictured in a romantic role, and you were eager for the time to understand it fully yourself before allowing others to fix their attention on it. 

“Don’t worry,” Satoru said, and he was cheerful and giddy in the way he smiled while he dragged a finger across the back of your hand. “I feel it too.” 

————————————————

Your burgeoning relationship carried on in secrecy for the next three months. In between classes and training of students, you and Satoru would find yourselves in an obscure hallway or forgotten classroom to share whispers and fleeting touches. It was nothing torrid or salacious as of yet, but everyday you longed for the moments you had alone with him to bask in muffled laughter and give in to lingering kisses that he would pull you into when you would try to leave for the umpteenth time. More than once you caught his head following you as he and the students walked by you on school grounds, and the previous week Kugisaki had commented on how keenly you studied Satoru while he demonstrated a fighting technique to Itadori. 

And now, when the school day was long over and the sun was beginning to set, you felt at ease walking through the door of Satoru’s office door to surprise him with spoils from your day. 

“Knock, knock,” you called out gently, peeking your head around the doorframe to find Satoru already looking up at you, blindfold nowhere to be seen. Fatigue clearly was gnawing at him. His head dropped from where his chin was propped up in his hand, and there was the faintest hint of purple under his eyes. A pen was clasped in his right hand where it rested on a large stack of paperwork, and you took notes of the various others crowding his desk as you walked in. “How are all the reports coming along?” 

Satoru groaned and threw himself back against his chair. “It’s been terrible! I’ve been stuck here finishing these reports since this morning. I didn’t even have lunch!” 

You laughed at his plight as you came to stand next to him and lean back against his desk before pulling a small brown sack from your bag. “Here,” you said, passing it to him, “I got you something while we were out today.” 

His face lit up in excitement ,and he eagerly snatched the bag from your grasp and buried his hand in it to pull out the pastry located inside. “You’re incredible,” he said, pausing to express his gratitude before he shoved half of it into his mouth. 

“You’ll choke one day,” you warned, vaguely impressed when he ate the other half in just as big of a bite. Satoru shook his head, and his grin told you he was proud of himself. 

“Was that from our bakery?” he asked, and you were grateful he had swallowed before speaking. 

“Yup. The first years did so well in training today that Nanami and I decided to end things early and treat them. We ended up running into the third years on the way, so they joined us and we all had a happy time together.” Satoru’s face fell somewhere in the beginning when you started talking, and by the time you were done his mouth was turned down into a full blown frown.��

“Without me?” He pouted, and the sad, puppy-esque face he gave you would have worked if you didn’t know what would be awaiting you if he didn’t finish his reports. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” you tutted, shaking a finger at him, “you needed to get these done, or else it would have been me taking over the extras and then we would both be miserable.” Satoru scowled, but the sigh he let out was resigned. 

“You’re not wrong.” 

You reached out and ruffled his hair. “Of course I’m not,” you teased, “but I brought you a treat to make up for it.” 

Satoru cocked a brow and stood from his chair so he could take a step towards you. Your lower back was already pressed into the edge of his desk, so you had to crane your head back to meet his eyes. “That’s true,” he said playfully. “You do make everything better.” He closed the space between your chests and the audible hitch in your breathing made him smirk. 

“Cheesy,” you muttered, but exhilaration flowed through you when his hands came up to cradle your jaw and he lowered his head enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your nose. Satoru hummed an amused sound before finally taking your bottom lip between his. You tucked your arms below his so you could fist your hands into the fabric of his uniform as his sides and a fluttering burst into your chest when he started stroking the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs.

It wasn’t wrong to say that Satoru had transfixed you. Everything about him—the way he smelled, the depth of his laugh, how his fingers felt when they danced over your skin—was alluring to you, and you couldn’t help but clutch him closer as your lips moved against his. In response, Satoru’s hands dropped down to grip at your waist, and you let out a noise of surprise in the brief moment your lips disconnected when he lifted you up, only to set you back down on his desk. He was quick to kiss you again, chasing you when you leaned back to make space for him in between your legs.

His hands seemed like they were everywhere at once: between your shoulders to press you into him, cupping your chin to angle it up and allow his lips to ghost over your neck, and then spread over your thighs to grasp and knead. The room was quiet except for the heady exhalations and gasping breaths of the air you shared, and you heard the rustling of paper being scattered as he cleared a spot behind you. 

Somewhere deep in your mind, your brain supplied you with the thought that Satoru’s office was not the ideal first place to do this—to have him. Certainly not as his hand started to sneak under the bottom of your shirt or your fingers toyed with the button on his pants, but every inch of him was plied against you and it would take something monumental to separate—,

“Ahem.” 

As it turned out, your principal clearing his throat outside of the wide open door of Satoru’s office was catastrophic enough for the two of you to spring apart at something close to the speed of light. You propelled yourself off Satoru’s desk to stand rigid at the side of it while turning your head to gawk accusingly at him, because surely the honored one should have sensed Principal Yaga way before he ever arrived. But from the way he immediately dropped straight into his chair to conceal himself from the waist down proved that, astonishingly, Gojo Satoru could be caught unaware. 

 Neither of you three said a word. Principal Yaga eyed you and Satoru with his arms crossed and brow furrowed, and you couldn’t decide whether hurling yourself out of the window behind you would be less painful than the scrutiny coming from the large man at the door. 

“There’s paperwork for this. You two can each get a copy from my office tomorrow,” he said eventually. You were relieved to hear a lack of judgment or disappointment in your principal’s voice and decided you could live with the resigned finality that colored instead. He didn’t offer anything else and had just begun to turn away with a shake of his head and a hand rubbing at his temple when he spun back around suddenly, making you flinch from where you were still rooted next to Satoru’s desk. 

“I want those reports finished and on my desk first thing in the morning, Satoru.” His tone brokered no discussion and—in all the time you’ve known him—you witnessed the loud-mouthed sorcerer at an apparent loss for words. He simply nodded in agreement and then Principal Yaga was gone. 

“Well,” Satoru started slowly, turning to face you in his chair, “I think that makes things official.” His mouth then tilted upwards into an unbothered grin, and he looked at you expectantly. Strained laughter died in your throat. 

“I guess so.” 

————————————————

In an effort to help make up for last week’s incident , Satoru called you midway through the Friday afternoon to, not ask, but summon you for a late night dinner date. In exchange, you got to pick where the two of you would eat and what dessert you would share at the end. It had taken little to no convincing on your part to get you to agree, and when the name of a restaurant in the upscale part of the city near his apartment slipped from your mouth, you were surprised to find that no guilt came along with it. 

Once upon a time, you might have wistfully imagined yourself seated and dined at that particular restaurant with Suguru, as you had told him when the two of you first passed it on the street. However, that daydream never came to fruition, and you refused to let a faded prospect with your long-lost ex-lover get in the way of creating new memories. So, in order to do just that, you took time getting yourself ready and slipped into a new dress before taking a train to the city to meet Satoru. 

The restaurant was everything you expected, and you took in with a small smile the low light atmosphere and your secluded table illuminated with flickering white candles. Waiters bustled to and fro, and the soft plinking of a lounge piano underscored the muffled murmurings of the restaurant’s patrons. You and Satoru talked about anything and nothing as you looked over the menu. The establishment wasn’t overabundant in the options it provided, instead taking great care to provide a few exceptionally well crafted meals, but you still had a difficult time making your decision nonetheless. Satoru offered to select one of the two dishes you went back and forth between for himself so you’d have the opportunity to try it, and while the idea melted your heart into a little puddle, you urged him to pick what he wanted for himself. 

A waiter came by and presented you with an extensive wine list, and while Satoru didn’t partake, he guessed with unbridled enthusiasm at which type you’d choose. His answer had been wrong, but the determined gleam in his eyes told you he’d never again make that mistake. After eventually making up your mind and successfully placing your order, the rest of the dinner flew by. The two of you spent time exchanging bites of each other’s food and sharing stories about the progress of the first year’s training. 

When you were brought the dessert menu, you both leaned over the table towards each other to look over it together, and when the two of you couldn’t decide on just one, you suggested ordering two. Satoru had raised a brow at you, having already heard twice by then how you were too full to have your own dessert and, despite his protest, insisted on sharing one with him. He relented, and you ordered two. When the waiter was out of earshot, you told him in a pointed few words that you had every intention of sharing that second dessert with him as a middle of the night snack. Satoru immediately sat straight in his seat, eyes flashing with heat and want and a whole other amalgamation of emotions that set your blood alight. 

By the time dessert came, you were two minutes shy of snatching the check and hauling him out the door, sweets be damned. But Satoru simply laughed and passed you a spoon while he situated the plate of dessert halfway between you two. When you were two bites in, stomach protesting and your eyes feeling just a bit heavy from the dimness of the restaurant, you tucked your foot under Satoru’s to rest it against his ankle. His answering smile was tender and maybe a little bashful, and while it could’ve been the second glass of wine that caused the stirring in your chest, you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was your heart expanding enough to make room for him. 

————————————————

“I want to go there again next week,” you said blissfully, both satisfied from a delicious dinner and feeling relief from the cold floors of Satoru’s apartment on your sore feet. If you never again picked up the heels you had kicked off at his door, it would be too soon. You meandered into his kitchen and plucked a water bottle from his fridge to down in just a few swallows. 

“I suppose we could go back once a week until we finish trying every dessert and dinner option available,” Satoru responded, coming up behind you to curl one arm around your waist and press a kiss into your hair. “Thank you for being my date.” You lifted your arm to reach behind you and drape it around his neck, and he let his mouth glide across the skin that he could touch. 

“Always,” you murmured, and while the implications of the word felt a little heavy and maybe a bit presumptuous for the early stages of your relationship, it didn’t diminish the truth of which you spoke it with. Satoru didn’t seem to have an objection to it and merely pasted every inch of his front against your back. 

“If you’re tired, or if the second glass of wine was too much, I’m happy to lend you a change of clothes and offer you a guest room for the night. We can make breakfast in the morning if you’re willing to supervise.” His laughter tickled your skin, and you were quick to shake your head and turn in his hold.

“No to the guest room, but yes to breakfast.” 

He smiled into the kiss he placed onto your lips and you fisted your fingers into the collar of his shirt in an attempt to keep him against you when he stepped back and nodded in the direction of a hallway. You caught his hand from behind when Satoru turned to walk towards what was presumably his bedroom and held on to it as he led you. He glanced back at you over his shoulder, eyes promising and mouth slightly parted, and when he whirled around completely to tug you through the open door of his room, you caught yourself on his chest and giggled. 

While Satoru busied himself with nuzzling his lips against the curve of your shoulder and fiddling with the various clasps and a zipper at the back of your dress, you peeked around his arm to study the vastness of his bedroom. It was as expertly put together as the rest of his home, but still mostly lacking in its signs of life. The high beamed ceiling and towering window framed by lush dark curtains created a feeling of openness, but the plush comforter on his bed and the stone fireplace set across from it helped cultivate a sense of coziness. You spied his uniform draped over the back of a chair nestled under a desk, and a thrill went through when the computer sitting atop it flashed a screensaver familiar to you—the picture of your dessert from the cafe a thousand miles away. 

You had the mind to ask Satoru about it, but before you could he was peeling your dress off your shoulders and down your arms. His eyes flicked up to yours in silent permission and it only took a subtle dip of your chin before he was pushing it the rest of the way down your torso, and you squirmed when his fingers danced over your ribs in a way that tickled. Hands started to move in a hurry after that point. Yours flew to the buttons of his shirt while his traveled up your arms to cup your cheeks so he could kiss you again. When you divested him of the fabric concealing his chest, seeing it land in a flutter next to your dress on the floor, you immediately started in on his belt, taking pleasure in the stuttered breath Satoru let out above you when you yanked on it in your efforts to get it off. 

As soon as he stepped out his pants, Satoru was turning you to the bed and he just barely caught himself above you when the two of you fell back against it. You grinned up at him as you shuffled up towards the pillows, and he followed obediently to settle between your legs when you opened them for him. It wasn’t until Satoru had already shimmed your underwear off your legs and did the same to himself did you feel a prickle of nervousness in your belly at the sight of him. There had been a few others in the time between Suguru and now, but they all had blended into faceless bodies and blurred memories of dark bedrooms, none ever so important that you bothered to recall them in times of loneliness. But this—Satoru—would be different, and you had only ever known one other man in such a deeper level of intimate feelings.

“Comparing me to someone?” The sarcastic quip from Satoru reclaimed your attention and nearly had you leaving the bed altogether, but the hidden undercurrent of vulnerability in his voice kept you under him. One day, the two of you would have a discussion about appropriate boundaries and how to express one’s emotions with proper words, but for now, you would reassure him that he would not have to spend his entire life worrying that he would never be enough for you. 

“No,” you said pointedly, cocking an eyebrow at him, and he actually looked chagrined. “I was actually thinking about how you were longer than I expected.” You punctuated your words by reaching down and wrapping your hand around him, and all the air rushed out of his lungs in a forceful exhale. It wasn’t a lie on your part. Where Suguru had been impressive in his width, Satoru excelled in his length, but that wasn’t any of his particular business. 

“I always thought you’d wear some expensive cologne everyday,” you continued in a whisper, tightening your grip around him until he sagged against your chest and let out a low moan in your ear, “but you smell faintly of clean scented soap and that surprised me.” You trailed the hand not currently occupied over the ridges of his spine and had to bite at your lip when Satoru shuddered against you. “Your skin doesn’t run as hot as I imagined it would, but I don’t mind it.” 

He chuckled a bit at that, and the breathless sound of it made you shiver. In a strained voice he asked, “anything else?” You let out a questioning hum, feigning your need to contemplate the idea, and Satoru nipped at your neck in retaliation. 

“Okay, okay!” you squealed, wriggling under him as he continued his assault up over your ear before replacing them with soft kisses over your cheek. “Your hair feels as soft as it looks and not a day goes by that I don’t think about running my fingers through it.” To emphasize your point, you raked your nails over his scalp and a pleased grumble sounded low in his chest. You debated sharing your next thought with him, but he was searching your eyes in a way that was a little desperate and heart wrenching, so you obliged. 

“The night of that failed date, right before we fought,” you began quietly, tracing your finger over Satoru’s cheek and the bridge of his nose, “I spent the whole time wishing it had been you.” 

The admission must have taken him off guard because his eyes widened and a pink flush took over his cheeks. His chest brushed more firmly against your breasts as his breathing accelerated in the slightest, and you reached up to nudge the tip of your nose against his. You didn’t bother waiting for his reply, and arched your hips upwards to grind them against his, this time you both let out echoing moans. Much of what came next happened in blurs of frenzied movement; his hand slipping between your legs and moving about in a way that had you throwing your head back into his pillows until his room was filled with the sound of you chanting Satoru’s name. When you were breathless and panting, he trailed back up your body with his lips straying to the dip of your waist, the curve of your breast, and then back to your mouth. 

When he finally made space for himself inside you and pulled your thigh higher over his hip, all you could do was grasp at his back and grip at his arms while he murmured your name into the crook of your neck. His movements stole your breath and overwhelmed any other thoughts in your head, but you didn’t mind how much room Satoru took up. Not when his fingers traced your features in delicate awe and wonder, and not when he had you calling his name in response to the sudden burst of warmth that poured over you a second and third time before he followed in kind. 

Satoru rolled the two of you over when your chests were still heaving and limbs were trembling, wrapping you up tightly in the breadth of his arms so you could rest your cheek just under his collarbone while he whispered soft affirmations and praises in your ear. You decided then, when he was still nestled inside you and spoke excitedly of a midnight snack in a plastic to-go bag and of shared breakfast in the morning that Gojo Satoru would never be too much for you. 

————————————————

When Satoru blinked awake, the first thing he noticed was the calmness with which he came out of sleep. His skin wasn’t slicked with sweat, nor were his blankets tangled around his legs. He hadn’t thrashed into consciousness, tormented by an endless loop of nightmares filled with his dead best friend’s face or your vehement ire. Instead, his eyes opened drowsily to take in the blue-black of twilight peeking through his curtains and became instantly aware of the sound of rhythmic breathing to his left. You slept soundly on your side facing away from him, but with your back pressed against his arm. Satoru let out a long breath, feeling more rested than he had in months, but he was in no hurry to find his way out of bed and away from you. In an attempt to coax his mind back into slumber, he shifted onto his side and wiggled down into the bed until he could snuggle his face against the back of your neck. You made a sleepy noise of annoyance when he wrapped his arm around your hips to pull you against him, but you didn’t wake and Satoru sighed in contentment before letting his eyes fall closed.

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

I hope y'all enjoyed this sweetness as much as I did!

The next chapter with be the last, but will not be nearly as long and will wrap things up and give a happy ending to our couple. I'm excited to share it will y'all soon<3

Have a good weekend!

Taglist: @paprikaquinn & @kafanizdakicokiyi

[sillyblues]

the ocean and the wind. (3)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ synopsis: tonowari is the ocean and ronal is the wind. where does it leave you?

ੈ✩‧₊˚ notes: y'alllll i am so sorry i'm like a week late. we had like a fuck ton of tests that really made me want to die and we still have more coming up next week aside from our projects. anyways!! part 3 is here. the awaited angst!! hope you guys enjoy this i pulled this out of my ass so quick because i felt bad for leaving you lot for almost two weeks. hope you guys enjoy!!

part 1 ✩ part 2 ✩ part 3 (here!) ✩ part 4 ✩ part 5 ✩ part 6 ✩ part 7 (final part)

Ronal and Tonowari first met when you introduced them to each other after things had calmed down with Tonowari.

They knew each other from the stories you tell of them when you spent time with each of them when things had calmed down with you and him. You told Ronal of Tonowari of who he is to you, of who he actually is behind the title of future Olo’eyktan, with fondness and giggles. You told Tonowari of Ronal of who she is to you, of who she actually is behind her cold and intimidating exterior, with admiration and grins.

They were close and very much dear to you and you’d want nothing more for them to be close to each other as well. You want them to see each other as they see you. 

And they did.

You were on the outskirts of the inner island, exiting it as you had just come back from gathering plants with Ronal for your class. Flat and circular baskets full of herbs, plants, and flowers rested against the side of your hips as you two walked. Sands and soil that were beginning to mix pushed back under your steps, leaving light footprints. You could faintly hear the waves of the sea hitting the sands on the shore and the fresh wind that softly nipped at your skin, almost ticking you.

The silence between you two was comforting but a familiar and welcome voice interrupted it.

“[Name],” Tonowari called out to you in a soft voice as he walked to you. He placed his fingers to his forehead and opened it towards you and Ronal as he said his greetings.

“Tonowari! What perfect timing!” you beamed at him and gestured to the girl beside you with your free hand, “Meet a close friend of mine, her name is Ronal.”

They introduced themselves and you watched as Tonowari’s blue eyes slightly widen before they quickly softened. How his ears twitched and the genuine smile on his face displayed his dimples, unlike the usual polite smile he shows to others. You watched as Ronal looked at him in curiosity, her forehead never furrowing nor her green eyes glaring. How her gaze didn’t look away quickly and her tail swayed lightly.

You grinned.

“Come, let us put away our baskets first and talk more.”

The two finally broke eye contact and smiled at you.

.

.

There is an island a bit far from the central island of your clan, the distance just enough to see its outline from afar and near to a village. It was more of a sandbar rather than an island and quite bare compared to the others. There were no trees nor any shrubs, maybe a few seaweeds that would wash up ashore. 

Despite its bareness, you never found it boring. This was your’s and Tonowari's island, after all. You found the place in one of your little adventures, swimming far away to see where the way of the water would take you and it led you to the little secret you two would keep for years. You two spent most of your time on this little island of yours, from countless days when you braid each others’ hair and decorate it with the prettiest shells you found and nights when you both lay down and stare under the moons, letting its beauty shine upon you two.

Now, this little secret has been shared with Ronal. It was not a heavy decision unlike it should have been, to let a stranger know something so close to you two. But Ronal is not a stranger. You see her. She sees you. Tonowari sees her. She sees him.

It was amazing to see how fast their friendship grew. Perhaps, they grew closer faster than she had with you. You thought it would take them a long time with Ronal’s shyness and Tonowari’s politeness, but they proved you wrong and you were happy about it. From the very first they met, they had gone along well like an instant connection that has been made from the moment they saw each other. 

“You act like a child. A grown child.” Ronal frowned, almost hissing in annoyance as she braids his hair. You two were on the little island, taking a break from all the classes that exhausted you three. You giggled and continued to inspect shells, keeping the ones you approved of in your left palm and placing back the others. Tonowari snorted.

“I am not a child. Which child have you seen is as big as me?”

“I see one in front of me right now.” There was a quick sound of a harsh slap on the skin and you turned at them, giggling once more. Tonowari let out a small hiss of pain and grumbled.

“No, Tonowari is not a child,” you walk over to them and sat in front of him as you placed the collected shells in the small pouch you brought with you. He grinned and before he could reply something along the lines of you being his supporter, you quickly crushed his hopes. “I think a baby would best describe him. A big babe who is lost without anyone to look after him.”

You teased him while you pulled his cheeks and pinched his arms. He let out an exaggerated gasp and you laughed. Even Ronal cannot help but let out a chuckle.

“What betrayal is this, [Name]?” Tonowari let out a groan when Ronal tugged a section of his hair in place when he flailed his arms around.

“Stay still, skxawng!”

“Not until [Name] explains herself of this betrayal!” his arms suddenly engulfed your figure and leaned his weight behind on Ronal. You squealed as you all fell while he just laughed boisterously. Ronal groaned at the heavy weight on top of her and hit Tonowari.

“You id—”

You try to get away but his arms were tight, not giving you a slight chance to escape. You felt bad for her knowing her hits don’t really hurt Tonowari and his ridiculous big muscles and she most likely knew of this as she gave up with a sigh after a few slaps with no effect on him.

You just giggled and leaned down on Tonowari’s chest. Your smile was so wide it was almost hurting your cheeks.

You would never exchange this for anything in the rest of the world.

.

.

“Ronal is such a freak, what does Tonowari even see in her anyway?” You heard a voice say in disdain and disgust as you walked towards the creek where you, Ronal, and Tonowari would meet one night. You had already asked for your parents’ permission and they didn’t mind that it is already evening. Giggles and murmurs followed after. When you heard that, your head immediately turned to the source of the voices.

They were girls who you recognized and there was one in particular whose name you remember. Her name was Letsakx. She had short wavy hair that reached up to her collarbones and was a bit taller than you. She was known for being loud and a bit mean but you never really paid mind to her that much because she hadn't done you any wrong until this moment.

“What did you just say?” You asked her after you walked towards her, confronting her for what she had just said. Her head turned to meet you slowly with her forehead raised and her friends did the same. 

“Who even are you?” She sneered.

“I asked you a question. What did you just say about Ronal?” You hissed.

“Oh, how surprising. I didn't expect that freak would have a little friend.” She scoffed. “Surely you would know what an arrogant thing she is, making people cry and pissing them off just because she can.”

“You shut your mouth, she is not arrogant!”

“Pff, what? Poor girl, you must be under her manipulation.” One of her friends said. She had wavy hair braided into a big one with her hair strands poking out. She looked at you in ridicule.

“What manipulation? How dare you say I speak of nonsense when she is truly the nicest girl in this village. How dare you speak of such things about her when you have no idea what she truly is?” You walked closer and closer to her, leaned up to her face and bared your teeth at her.

She hissed at you and you hissed at her as well. You heard her friends circle around you. One glared at you.

“Maybe she's just a freak like Ronal? You can't be friends with her if you aren't one,” the other giggled.

“Wait, I think I know you,” the latter of her friends suddenly said, “You're [Name]. You used to stick to Tonowari’s side before, didn't you?”

“You did?” Letsakx looked at your form up and down before she cackled. “How pitiful, are you clinging to Ronal just for him to have his eyes on you once more?”

“No, what are you talking about—”

“What a sad little thing, can't you see that he’s done with you?” The one who used to glare at you now looked at you with eyes full of mockery. 

You opened your mouth to say anything back to them, to snap back at how wrong they were. You three were just close friends. How could Tonowari be done with you and move to Ronal? It doesn't make any sense.

“No, we're all just friends,” you said in a firm voice, trying to steady yourself and not let their words affect you. They speak of lies, they are the one's themselves trying to delude you into thinking of your friends leaving you out. 

“Just friends? Don't they make us laugh,” Letsakx scoffed and rolled her eyes before she pointed her finger at your chest and poked it harshly a few times. “I might not like Ronal but at least I know that they are together. They will choose each other when their Iknimaya come.”

You almost stumbled back whether from the harsh pokes or harsh words, you don't know, but they rendered your legs weak. The others came closer to you too.

One put her hands on your shoulders from behind, “Poor [Name], their so-called friend who keeps tailing after them like an annoying little thing.”

“Wake up, [Name]. You will never be with Tonowari when he is with Ronal.”

“We can help you with that, you know? How could Tonowari choose her, a freak—” you pushed them away. You will not tolerate any disrespect to Ronal and Tonowari. You will not tolerate the lies they feed you. You will not tolerate the mock they have of you.

“You three do nothing but assume and assume! Have some shame!” You bared your teeth to them and hissed for the third time. Your ears were pinned back and your tail raised in anger. The anger in you boils stronger than the seed of doubt they planted in you. You walked away from them and you still hear their laughter and scoffs.

“Do come back to us when you finally open your eyes! We promise we won't laugh!” You hear Letsakx say one last time. 

You walked away until you heard their laughter faded into nothingness. Until you could only hear the soft crunches of the grass and sand under your feet. The soft whispers of the wind and the trills and chirps of the animals. The soft splashes and the pitter-patter of the water against the rocks as they stream down.

You let out a small whimper at the sight in front of you.

Beyond the creek, they lay so close to each other. Their chest rose and fell, signs of their peaceful rest with one another. Ronal’s head lay on Tonowari’s arm with it wrapped around her head. Her hand was placed on his chest and under his other hand. Their freckles glowed so brightly and — oh, how peaceful and content they looked.

Letsakx’s words rang in your ears and finally, you see it now. The way Eywa’s beauty shined so brightly to them, the way the bioluminescent lights of the plants and the water reflected on their skin. The way the water trickles softly as if not to disturb them and the way the wind provides them with enough coolness so they wouldn’t be hot as they embraced each other.

Memories of them flashed to your head. How Tonowari looked so bright and shined with the sun behind him as he comforted you with your legs halfway in the sea. How he wouldn’t let you go despite your struggles to do so for the best of you two. How Ronal finally saw you as she embraced you, her forehead against yours. How she smiled at you with such softness and gentleness.

You see it now. Why you loved being with them. Why you loved them. You didn’t see them just as your friends. You saw them for who they were. You saw—see—them. You are reminded of your greed. Your envy. It all comes back to you now.

But you are also reminded of how Tonowari and Ronal grew so close so fast, an instant connection that sparked between them. How they see each other so brightly, so gently, so lovingly. It was like they were made for each other. And maybe they were.

You bit your lip. Tonowari wasn’t just enough for you, you also wanted Ronal. You wanted her time and attention as well, why you kept her closer to you than any of your friends. You wanted him, why you avoided him in fear of him knowing your greed for him. 

Your teacher’s words rang in your ears. Greed. Selfishness. You are so greedy and selfish. How disgusting you are. And so foolish. So, very foolish. Why have you still not learned your lesson? Were you complacent in Tonowari’s belief in you? Stupid, stupid! It is him, Tonowari. He would never mind it because he is your friend. He is soft. He is kind. He is gentle.

And oh, Eywa, how could you even involve Ronal in your mess? She does not deserve this. He does not deserve this. She needs not anything or anyone to ruin her peace in life once more. Ruin her happiness. How dare you do this to her? To both of them?

You are angry at yourself. Angry for wanting her. For him. For both of them because of your excessive greed that knows no bounds. For roping them into your useless desires.

Your heart thumped so loud and heavy, wanting to rip out of the cages called your ribs and rip out through your chest and bleed so openly. Your ears are pinned back and tears welled up in your eyes. You let them fall, helpless against the raging emotions that you drown in. Your legs were weak and you have never wanted more than to open your mouth and wail but you dare not ruin their peace just because of your ruined one.

You took a step back and turned so quickly. One step. One more. Another. And more after another until your slow steps turned into a run.

Run and run, [Name]. Run and don’t look back. Never look back again. Never dare want them again. Never dare be greedy again.

Oh, Eywa, you begged, is this my punishment for the thoughts and ugliness I have borne in my soul?

I’m so sorry, Great Mother.

I am so sorry, Tonowari.

I am so sorry, Ronal.

You are reminded of how Tonowari is the ocean and how Ronal is the wind. You are reminded of your place.

Between the ocean and the wind, where does it leave you?

series taglist: @totesnothere04 @ducks118

[mazeinthemiroh]

you need a holiday [part 3]

pairing: hongjoong x best friend! reader

genre: fluff, friends to lovers, slow burn / slow romance, comfort, slight crack

word count: 1.2k

warnings: cursing, allusions to mental health issues

summary: hongjoong is surprised to find himself at the airport. he didn't think he could do it, but here he was, a suitcase clutched in his hand as he marched to find you.

author's notes: you can find part 1, part 2 , and part 4 here. thanks for all your support for the past two! this part is getting more into the romance/fluff territory, which you guys have been awaiting! i hope you guys enjoy <3 part 4 will be coming out soon ~

'I think your little friend will be joining you after all.'

That's the text you received last night from Wooyoung. And God, you hoped he was right. But still, there was a lot of uncertainty with Hongjoong.

Considering how he has been recently, you couldn't predict his behaviours. He was usually quite a predictable guy. He ordered the same drink at the coffee shop, he painted his nails to match his current hair colour, and he reacted the same way each time when you told him to take a break.

Take a break.

Those words echoed through Hongjoong's mind as he bounded through the airport, the handle of his suitcase clutched in his hand as his pace quickened. His face was covered by a simple white mask, and he wore a black beanie on his head, pulled down to cover his forehead fully.

He felt stressed, agitated. It was only when he saw you, sitting in the seating area and scrolling on your phone, that he felt himself relax. His shoulders dipped as he let out a deep, hearty sigh. 'Breathe,' he told himself, 'Breathing is good.'

Honjoong finally decided to move, before he stood in front of you, releasing the suitcase from his hands so that the handle collided with the floor, making you look up from your phone.

Your eyes were wide at his abrupt appearance, but soon replaced by a knowing look and a small grin.

"Hey, sexy. Fancy seeing you here."

The plane was completely full. A baby in the back was already screeching at the top of its lungs, and the plane wasn't in the sky yet. Many people get themselves organised into their seats, some arguing over which seat number was who's. Suitcases and backs were flung into the compartments at the top. It wasn't was Hongjoond was used to.

Recently, due to his lavish work lifestyle, he had the privilege of travelling more privately, with the comfort of himself and the members, no one else. Travelling so publicly was putting him on edge a bit, along with the fact that he had felt he had abandoned his work for a couple of days of bliss.

Was it going to be worth it?

"Nice fit," you complimented him as your eyes flicked through the brochure of good the plane service provided. Hongjoong was, in fact, wearing a hoodie you bought him for his birthday. He exhaled through his nose and nudged you playfully, before smoothing down his clothes and making sure he was comfortable. Well, as comfortable as you could be when you had limited foot room.

"So," your voice was bright and chipper. You seemed to thrive in the morning hours, while Hongjoong was a night owl. It made your dynamic feel a bit off, with Hongjoong behaving unintentionally like a grumpy cat. You wanted to squish his cheeks and ruffle his hair aggressively, but you figured he'd probably bite you. "What made you change your mind about this trip?"

Hongjoong sighed and gazed out the window. He eyed the stairs being taken away from the side of the plane. The engines were on and rearing to go. This was it.

"You hounded on at me. Then Seonghwa. And then Eden," Hongjoong's hands reached up to touch his chapped lips, before diving into his hoodie pocket in search of his lip balm. "So what choice did I have?"

You hummed, not sure how to feel about his answer.

"Sounds like you're getting weaker, Captain," you teased, whilst dragging out your own lip balm for him to use (he seemed to be having immense trouble trying to find his own.) He gave you a nod of thanks and smoothed the balm over his lips, letting out a small laugh at your comment.

"My friends and my crew have eroded my fierceness over the years," he joked, "I'm all soft now. People will no longer fear me."

"People never feared you," you snorted and rolled your eyes, "you think you're an actual pirate?"

Hongjoong was always very aware that he might intimidate people. He never wanted to. But perhaps he was so serious about work or so focused on saying the right things in social situations that, when he was by himself, he would think he was too intense. He was oh so aware of himself, and it drove him crazy.

But he always assumed the worst. You knew no one disliked him because, well, how could they? A leader, trying his hardest to get everything into place, striving for perfection whilst being considerate and compassionate and caring for everyone involved. There was nothing to be afraid of with him. He was honest, truthful, genuine; people knew what they were going to get with him. And there was nothing to be afraid of about that.

The cabin crew went through all the safety procedures. The usual seat-belt, life-jacket, oxygen-mask shenanigans. And then you felt the plane move onto the runway.

"It's like in Turbulence," Hongjoong hummed, trying to make light of the situation despite his confused emotions as he gazed out the window, "it was so cool watching Wooyoung film his part on the runway-"

He turned to face you and his face turned to be full of worry as he caught sight of your low gaze and heavier breathing.

"Hey, what's up," his voice was filled with concern. The plane shook slightly.

You raised your gaze to meet his slightly, "It just freaks me out when the plane takes off. The shaking the loudness, the uncertainty. I know, it's me being silly but-"

"You're not silly," Hongjoong shook his head, "It's going to be okay."

You nodded and stared intently, eyes sparkling a bit. He was a very affirming presence, and would always put other's worries ahead of his own. It was how he coped. If he wasn't focusing on his own problems, he was less likely to worry about them. Caring for other people was such an alluring conviction for him.

"Can I hold your hand?" You asked quietly, so quietly that you thought he had imagined it at first. "Just for the lift-off?"

Hongjoong's lips parted as he looked at you softly, his hand already edging to yours. And when he grasped your hand in his, it was strong and affirming. A gentle squeeze of reassurance, telling you it was all going to be okay.

The plane shook as it sped up, shooting down the runway to gain momentum. Your grip on his hand tightened and your eyes were closed, trying to relax your breathing. He kept an eye on you, his thumb stroking the outside of your hand for an extra tingle of assurance.

A moment more, and the plane was in the air. You let out a sigh of relief and opened your eyes. Still alive.

"You alright?" Hongjoong asked, a small smile on his lips. He already looked like he was starting to relax, himself. Being up in the air must have confirmed to him that he was going on holiday. A vacation. A break. And no matter how bad he felt for leaving work so abruptly, he couldn't help but feel a small, guilty pleasure about it.

"Yeah," you nodded, "thank you."

You both smiled at each other and gazed down, suddenly realising you were still holding each other's hands.

Releasing your grip on each other, you laughed the brief awkwardness away. You felt heat rise to your cheeks, trying not to think much of it.

But Hongjoong started to miss your touch already.

taglist: @a-wandering-stay, @xlovehwa, @yeosangsbiceps, @anyamaris, @acciocriativity, @hawaiian-angel, @toolovelyforyou, @dutchessskarma, @saltedplum-squid, @dandycharmer, @baek-at-it-again95, @whatisnttakenbynow, @yeosxxx, @chansburgah, @darkmentalitystarfish-blog (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

[devieuls]

The way of love pt.II

Neteyam Sully x Tayrangi Fem Reader (Na'vi)

Warning of the Serie: MDNI. Dom Neteyam x Fem Reader; SMUT; ANGST; FLUFF; Dirty Talk; Fangs; Bites; Blood; Spit; Power Play; Jealousy and Possessiveness; Foreplay; violence; Swearing; Teasing; Unprotected Sex; Enemies (because of you, Neteyam treats you well). Aged characters: Neteyam 19 y.o / You 18 y.o SERIE

Synopsis: After a great loss happened in your family, you are forced to take a role that before did not belong to you, following a path that you will feel like your only in time. Just when you thought you were finally overcoming the loss, your clan shows up with those you blame for the great offense received. You are the daughter of the first Olo'eykte of all clans and are about to take your mother’s place to lead the Tayrangi clan, but first you must follow Neteyam (the eldest son of the man you detest with all your heart) To train him, despite your contempt for the Sullys and everything about them, you inevitably bond with the boy, unknowingly falling in love with him.

CHAPTER WARNING: Blood and free hate <3

Lenght : 2k

Notes: All characters will keep the age difference but will be aged: Neteyam 19 y.o; Lo'ak 18 y.o etc…

NA'VI WORDS: PARULTSYIP: Children. KARYU: Teacher. VRRTEP: Demon. 'ITE: Daughter

PART: 1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4 ; 5 ; 6 ; 7 ; 8 ; 9 ; 10

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

The night went by with an agonizing slowness, making you think only of the boy Omatikaya, while your heart beat faster and faster at the mere memory of the boy’s laughter, or of his hand touching your ear to lay a flower he had chosen for you. You hated these feelings, the thought of your heart going crazy over the Sullys' firstborn made you sick and damned you, so much so that even the beautiful moonlight entering the room didn’t take your mind off it.

"No. I have no feelings for that Omatikayan boy. It’s just a… a…" you couldn’t find an adjective to describe him negatively, after all he was always kind and smiling, and that made you hate him more. " A Sully! A skxawng vrrtep Sully!" You said against the ceiling, finding some comfort in that offense. You would turn around in the hammock, looking for a comfortable side to get to sleep without thinking about that guy, you did not want and did not have to feel feelings for him, then why were you blushing and your heart beating so hard?

After many hours, you managed to fall asleep and this time the morning arrived with a deadly speed. You were always more certain that Eywa was making fun of you, and you didn’t understand why, after all you were always regarded as the golden daughter of Olo'eykte, the one who was not wrong and devoted to duty. So why damn you like this?

You yawned and reached out to your mother to share breakfast with the family, and then you noticed the flower of Neteyam on the table, you rolled your eyes and looked at your mother.

"Didn’t you throw it out yet? I thought I told you it was a stupid gift," you said and then started eating some berries from the forest.

"Ma 'ite, it’s such a beautiful flower, why throw it?" asked the matriarch, softening her gaze as she watched her beautiful daughter, realizing that something new was being born in you.

"Because it’s a gift I didn’t appreciate, keeping it means appreciating it. Throw it away" You said firmly, you didn’t want to have anything that demon gave you.

Once breakfast was over, you left your house, finding Neteyam outside your house, with a sweet smile as he waited for you.

"Good morning, Karyu. Did you sleep well?" he asked, following you, noticing how you turned your eyes annoyed by his presence. " You don’t care. Today we have so many things to do, you better concentrate" You responded by walking faster, still feeling his steps behind you as you reached the beach. " Watch out for the descent, it’s full of sharp rocks"

"Are you worried about me?" he asked, laughing slightly. " No. I worry about myself, I am the healer of the village, I should waste time patching your ass up as if you were a parultysìp" Your tone was sour, but this did not remove the smile from the lips of Neteyam, who followed you undisturbed.

"Then I better hurt myself, if it will be your sweet hands to cure me," Neteyam blew the words on the shell of your ear, for he stood behind you. You shuddered and turned to him. " You. AHHH! Unbearable. You are an unbearable child. Distance. Keep the distance." You said pushing him back with your finger on his chest, growling at him.

The day went on as follows: Neteyam making you damned and stressed, your Ikran probably preferring suicide to hearing you fight like children, You scolding the jokes he used to make, and you coming out of it exhausted at the end of the day. Once you got ashore, you broke the bond with your banshees and sat on the sand.

"Okay, at least tell me why you treat me like this. I didn’t do anything to you," Neteyam suddenly said, looking at you waiting for an answer.

"You don’t have to care. I’m your teacher, not your friend. I don’t have to like you, I just have to teach." You said looking out to sea, legs to chest.

"I don’t know your name, I don’t know what you think of me and why you treat me like this, I don’t know why you threatened me and consider yourself my teacher?" He said nicely, not looking away for a second.

"Like I said, keep your distance."

Actually, you wish you hadn’t insulted him or bothered to lead him into the ways of the Tayrangis, but your mother had given you a burden to bear and you wouldn’t have let her down, not again.

"I have the honor of being the only one to be treated this way or is it the practice?" He asked approaching you

"Stop talking, and listen to the sea and the wind." You said irritated, closing those eyes as you inhaled.

Neteyam couldn’t help but observe you, your bioluminescent freckles drawing constellations on your cerulean face, your thinned eye cut, your clothes and your body. In his eyes you were perfect, perhaps the most successful creation of Eywa or the direct daughter of Eywa, leading him to doubt your blood bond with the Olo'eykte of your clan.

"You know, your freckles glow like stars." Neteyam said out of nowhere, "They’re very beautiful."

You turned in his direction, looking at him and judging him in silence. Your feline eyes thinned, sharp as blades.

"Stop." You sighed, "You’re annoying."

"Only with those who show themselves not to give me even a chance" Neteyam’s voice was sure, his eyes focused on you and his body leaning slightly towards your person.

"skxawng…" Your voice was thin and you could hear the look of Neteyam burning your skin, bothering you but making your heart beat like never before.

Neteyam gave up a laugh at the way you called him, yet he sought some kind of foothold to get close to you.

"At least tell me why you hate me, I’ll make it up to you." His sweet voice hit your ears, scratching your skin.

"You can’t make it up to me." You said coldly, putting distance between the two of you again, looking him in the eye with hatred. " Neither now nor ever." you continued.

"Why? I-" he began to speak but was silenced by your hand which rose to indicate silence.

"You. Your family. Everything about the Sullys is cursed. Demon blood mixed with that na'vi, your family is a bringer of destruction and death. No matter how much you try to make up for it, the only way is for the Sullys to disappear." Neteyam’s pupils dilated as he listened to you without having words to formulate. You took his wrist and raised his hand and left a cut on his palm. "Cursed blood, demon blood. Destruction and death is in you as in all your family" your voice was sharp as Neteyam’s palm filled with blood very slowly.

"It’s not like that. I’m Na'vi as much as you, Eywa has protected my father from the beginning, so we are not demons… let me at least-" You stopped him again, growling to keep his distance.

"Eywa makes mistakes sometimes, evidently this is her greatest." You said pointing at him and then standing up and being taken by the wrist by Neteyam, his warm blood now wet your skin, while his eyes begged you to wait.

"We never killed Na'vi, never." He whispered with pain, partly this was true but if the demons of heaven had made war at pandora was also because of Jake, those deaths had to be on the conscience of his entire bloodline.

"The war killed them, took away homes and destroyed families. A war brought by your father" At that moment Neteyam stood up, never taking his grip off your wrist.

"My father brought salvation, became Toruk Makto to save the clans and remember that your mother joined him to win" He said approaching you "Why are you so… difficult. I’m here to learn, just be nice."

"Kind? Kind to you? My family lost a daughter in the war because of YOUR family, and I should forgive you? Be nice to you? I hate you Neteyam Sully, you’re just one of the Na'vi I can’t kill for Eywa. Stand. back."

You growled, grabbed your wrist, but this time Neteyam pulled you to him, leaving you a few inches away from his body. You felt a lump in your throat as your heart started to go crazy again, making you hate yourself as never before. Neteyam’s arms were warm and comforting, you felt a sense of protection so close to him. His breath mixed with the wind as his natural scent entered your nostrils, causing you to swallow bitterly. Your wrist was brought to the height of his chest, making your palm lay at heart level.

"What are you-" Neteyam stopped you, whispering a "Shhh, it’s your turn to listen" his warm voice made you sigh deeply.

You felt Neteyam’s heart beating against your palm, you felt his long, deep breaths as he looked down on you, being enchanted to see your person finally relaxed near him. " Eywa is my mother like yours, My heart beats like yours, my lungs breathe your same air thing demons can not do" Neteyam approached you again, and then lift your face from your chin "And you know what differs me from them? Like my father, I was interested in a beautiful and strong Na'vi."

You took a long breath as you looked into Neteyam’s eyes, at that moment all the disgust, hate and resentment had vanished somewhere in your person, leaving room for the earthquake that was being born in your womb. Your eyes softened for a moment and little chills rose from your legs to your back. You didn’t know how to answer, you wanted to vomit on him as much as you hated him and hated his family, but how bravely your throat could formulate something that neither your heart nor your mind thought,

"I said keep your distance." you whispered, swallowed, looking slightly away, and then felt Neteyam’s hand resting on your jaw and pulling your face back toward hers.

"I can’t." whispered him passing the look from your eyes to your lips, then returning again to your eyes "I can’t keep my distance if our ways continue to cross. I know you don’t hate me inside, and you know I’m a good person." He said by stroking your face.

All this was so fast, so fast that you were most likely in that state of shock, not for anything else, at least this you tried to make you believe, failing miserably when Neteyam caressed your face. You felt like such an idiot when he looked at your lips, because inevitably you did the same with his lips and you couldn’t believe they looked so soft and warm. Your breath was suddenly cut when he slowly drew his face to yours, and your heart decided to let you experience tachycardia.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Notes from the author:

Yes, you may hate me for cutting to the most interesting point, but it is to keep the threshold of attention longer. yk

Literally, Neteyam doesn’t even know your name, but he’s so precious, he seems like the kind of guy who would keep acting like a prince to someone with a stronger character. While I was writing, I seemed to see Neytiri and Jake in the beginning, in fact there are some references in the first part, maybe even here.

However, remember to put Like to support the stories, reblog if you’re enjoying this series and leave a comment with your opinion. Luv ya

Mel

[syddsatyrn]

Chapter 1 ⛤ Chapter 2 ⛤ Chapter 3 ⛤ Chapter 4 ⛤ Chapter 5 Masterlist

⛤Pairing: - Eddie Munson x FemReader

⛤Warnings: Swearing, drinking / smoking, fluff, friends to lovers, smut, oral, p in v

⛤Words: 1.4k

⛤Song: "Photograph" By Def Leppard

⛤Summary: Moving away from Hawkins was the biggest mistake of your life. You left your best friends and forgot to stay in touch. Years later, you decide to hit up your good friend Steve. Its time to make a plan and make amends. The one thing you didn't expect was feelings to resurface when you saw your old highschool crush.

⛤Notes: This series is 18+ Minors scram. Everybody give it up for our bet reader @hellfiremunsonn ! This is sadly our last chapter. But if you know from my previous fics, flattery works with me. So comment/reblog if you want to see another chapter. It was so fun writing this. I love making these and I'm glad you enjoy them too.

⛤Chapter 5: Just Stay Eddie went back inside the bar, and told the group you were feeling pretty exhausted from all the excitement. He slipped Steve a 20 dollar bill so he could take care of the tab later. Eddie thought he was being sly but everyone knew exactly what was going on. It was nothing personal, you both just needed some time alone to process all these feelings and move forward. Eddie opened the driver side door and climbed in. Seeing you in his leather jacket while seated comfortably on the passenger side of his van sparked a bit of pride, he could feel it in his chest. It was his moment and he was going to make it happen. Eddie pulled out of the parking lot and turned down the main road. He turns the radio on and lights the cigarette hanging from his mouth. You were once again taken aback by how kind he is, how he’s always looking out for you. You couldn't stop staring at his handsome face, he’s always made you feel weak in the knees but this time was different. It’s getting darker, there aren't many cars on the road. When you look out the window you notice how the sky is littered with bright stars, a sight you haven't seen in a long time. Eddie pulls into the apartment complex parking lot and parks in an empty space. He shuts off the engine and before you knew it, he was opening the van door. You take his hand as you carefully hop out. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and leads you up to his place.  “I’ve got a little something for you upstairs.” He grins and kisses the top of your head. “Oh yeah? What might that be?” You return his playful tone. “All in due time, my love.” He says as he unlocks the front door. You expected Dustin to be there but it seems he’s gone out. You make it to Eddie's room and he quickly shuts the door behind you. He opens a small cabinet in his desk and pulls out two small glasses and a bottle of rye whiskey. “Can I pour you a drink?” “Yes please.” You giggle, Eddie used to be so rough around the edges, when did he get so sophisticated? He hands you the half full glass and you take a seat on the bed. He opens his closet and you can hear him fumbling around inside. After a moment he returns with something in his closed hand. He presents you with this red guitar pick necklace and you immediately recognize it.  “Do you remember this?” Eddie asks, taking a seat next to you. He motions for you to turn around and you hesitate at first but eventually turn your body away from him. He takes a sip and sets his glass down on the table. “Yeah! You used to wear it everyday, how could I forget?” You reply, you almost forgot he asked you a question. He drapes the necklace around your neck and adjusts the clasp. Eddie moves your hair off to one side, “Y/N, you and I both know this can't be temporary. I don’t want this to end when you leave, so I need you to tell me something, okay?” He runs his fingers through your hair.  “Do you really love me? Or is this something temporary. We’re adults now, things are different and more complicated. But I know my feelings for you have never changed.” Eddie admits while resting his chin on your shoulder. “I do…I love you so much it's stupid. At first I felt the same way, like you could have any girl you wanted so I had to be just some fling, right?” You take a drink, the liquor burns your throat, reminding you that you are in fact, an adult with adult feelings. You place your glass on the side table. “Eddie, I don’t think I want to go back to Shelbyville.” The thought hit you so hard. Why are you still there? “You don’t have to go. You could just stay and be mine.” He says, barely above a whisper. His face is really close, the thought of being his and only his made your heart pound. “Just stay.” He whispers in your ear. His voice is sticky sweet and his words ignite a fire within you. 

You turned around and kissed him hard. Eddie wraps one arm around your waist, the other carding through your hair. Your arms slowly wrap around his neck, each kiss more heated than the last. While your tongues dance in sync, Eddie slides his jacket off your shoulders and it falls to the floor. He slips one hand up your shirt which sends a shiver up your spine. You tug on Eddie's hoodie, he immediately gets the hint and removes it along with his shirt. It didn't take long to get you out of your clothes and in his sheets. Lost in the moment, you both surrendered to desire, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. Lips brushed against cheeks, trailing tender kisses along jawlines and necks. Each touch a whispered promise of longing and each kiss was a unveiled secret.  Eddie explored every inch of your body with his fingertips. He was slow, reveling in the moment that he thought he would never have. He maneuvered himself on top of you and continued to plant kisses down your neck to your chest. With his free hand he rubs his thumb over your sensitive nipple. Your breath hitched and you let out a small whine. Your mind was in an intoxicating haze as Eddie’s lips went lower and lower. The anticipation was killing you but at the same time the thrill of it all was magic. Eddie kisses your inner thighs, you grab ahold of the sheets. He slips his tongue between your folds and everything melted away. The room was soon filled with soft moans and heavy breathing, you started to lose yourself in it all. You didn't have to chase that climax for very long, Eddie made sure to get you there with no effort on your part. When his face appeared from under the sheets you couldn't help but grab the back of his neck and kiss him deeply, tasting yourself on his lips. Eddie slipped himself between your legs and positioned himself at your entrance. Your hands roamed his body while you kissed his collarbones. He slowly slid his cock inside of you, he let out a low groan. This is everything Eddies ever dreamed about, the mental image of you underneath him will be burned into his mind for eternity. The way you feel is pure ecstasy to him, your soft skin and the way you taste was better than he could have imagined. He slowly pulls out and back in, making sure not to cause you any pain. He picks up the pace as you moan into his neck. “You’re so wet ah–You feel so fucking good.” Eddie growls into your ear, he thrusts into you deeper, and deeper. Eventually earning him a cacophony of moans and swears from your pretty mouth. It made him smirk, knowing he could unravel you so easily. He motions for you to roll over onto your stomach. You follow his lead and arch your back, allowing him to slide inside of you once again. He grabs your hips and pulls you closer and thrusts into a little harder than before. Your face is buried in a pillow, all Eddie could hear was more muffled screams and something that sounded like his name. “Mhmm…that's my girl, you sound so pretty. You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this.” He says, his breath is starting to sound heavy, he could feel you tightening around him. He knows you're close, even after all these years he can still read your body like an open book. “Eddie I’m gonna…” You trail off, Eddie keeps up the pace, his fingers dig into your hips as you both climax, one after the other. Eddie lets out a moan followed by a string of swears. Thank goodness no one is home yet, it felt like you both made a lot of noise. Eddie slides out of you and pulls the covers over the both of you. Your legs intertwined, he peppers your face with kisses and you giggle. His arms wrap around you, pulling you as close as possible. You’ve craved these quiet moments of connection. In Eddie's arms you found sanctuary and safety. There were no masks to hide behind, no pretenses to uphold. Your fingers trace lazy circles on his skin. “Now I definitely don’t want to go back to Shelbyville.” You finally break the silence and Eddie chuckles.

“It was that good huh?” Eddie smirks, “If you stay, you can have this whenever you like.” He affectionately taps your nose with his index finger.  “You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Munson.” You kiss him softly, “I accept your terms.” You whisper against his lips, followed by a smile. Eddie presses his lips to yours once again, his fingers card through your hair. Time seemed like it was standing perfectly still, all your worries have melted away. It was a feeling you haven't felt in a long time, something like contentment or peace. “Where home!” Said Steve’s disembodied voice carried through the apartment. “Shit…” You pull back and both curse in unison.

[ilguna]

last one!! so sorry for clogging ur inbox i hope its okay 😭 could i please request supply run with the second aisle prompts #4 #7 and #21, for clarke griffin!! preferably her helping injured reader :D (ofc doesnt have to be word for word) and! congratulations!!!!! 3k is so impressive and you totally deserve it!!! your writing is amazing! <3

☼ wanheda (Clarke Griffin) ☼

warnings; swearing, death mention, torture mention, blood, ehh gore, kinda the beginnings of a panic attack?

wc; 2.5k

prompt; 4. "Can you walk? I'd be happy to carry you." AND 7. "You can hold my hand." AND 21. "Just look at me. Forget everything else."

notes; spoilers for end of season 2 and beginning of season 3.

--

“Hey, is Kane in there?” You ask Bellamy, motioning to the room at the end of the hall that he’s coming from. “I’ve been looking for him everywhere.”

“Yeah, he’s in there with Abby.” He nods, pace slowing. “Hey, a few of us are going into Sector Seven, do you want to come with?”

Your face twists, “No, I’ve got other plans. Who’re you going with?”

“Octavia, Raven, Monty, Jasper, and Miller.”

“You’ve got a full crew.” You wave your hand. “It’ll be crowded if I go. You guys be safe, though.”

“We’ll try. What are your plans?”

“Sneaking out.” You grin. “I’ll catch you later.”

You turn away, walking down the rest of the hallway. When you glance over your shoulder, you find that Bellamy is gone, moving much faster than you. You stop outside of the room, raising your fist to knock on the door to announce your presence, and then Abby speaks.

“I was dreaming we were on the Ark.” Abby pauses. “Before we sent the kids down.” She must get up, there’s a sound of feet shuffling against the floor. She sighs, “Maybe she’s in Sector Seven.”

You close your eyes, picturing the map that was drawn out to mark the territories of the different Grounders. A large portion of it belongs to Azgeda, with Sector Seven being on the bottom right, where Trikru is. It’s not entirely dangerous, but with how close it rides next to Azgeda, it’s not a place you want to be.

“We could send out another search party.” Kane suggests.

“They wouldn’t find her, not unless she’s ready to be found.” Abby says. “(Y/n)’s been trying for weeks, she’s made no progress.”

A man clearing his voice makes you jump out of your skin, head whipping to see where it’s coming from. Sergeant Miller is coming down the hallway, lips pressed together, head tilted disapprovingly.

“What are you doing?”

“I was going to talk to Kane and Abby but I just answered my own question.” You tell him, which isn’t a complete lie. 

You were seeking them out to talk about Clarke, and they managed to answer your question without ever knowing it existed. You wanted to know if they were ready to send you—or anyone else—out again. The answer seems to be no. That doesn’t matter to you, you were planning on leaving either way. You just needed to figure out if you had to sneak through the fence or walk out the front gate.

With that, you flash Sergeant Miller a smile, walking away before he can respond. You navigate your way out of the building and out into the open. Arkadia is crawling with people, especially guards. They don’t seem to be on edge today, which might help you later when you come in through the front.

You walk to your tent, which is tucked snugly off to the side, right next to the fence for easy departure. You were told by Abby that you should be staying inside of the building, sharing a room with someone, whatever. You’re no stranger to a tent, when you landed on the ground, you opted for one, for the sole reason of the fact that you don’t want to share a room.

Besides, there won’t be anyone to tell on you.

You flip the flaps open, ducking in as you enter. It’s a fairly small space, holding the essentials. There’s a cot that takes up half of the room, with a pillow, a sleeping bag, and a blanket neatly folded on top. The other side has a table that you may or may not have stolen, a chair, and a lamp. That’s where your backpack sits.

It’s already packed with the necessities, all you have to do is throw it over your shoulder and pull out the knife stuck in the table’s wood. You leave the tent, no one bats an eye in your direction, making for a quicker escape. You pass your backpack through the fence, and then carefully move through it, yourself. 

It’s usually electrified, but recently they’ve been knocking it back to preserve the energy.

You take your sweet time escaping Arkadia, not caring whether or not someone sees you, because they know better than to send someone after you. They tried that once before, you managed to lose them in the forest in less than fifteen minutes. By the time you were done and coming back, you retrieved them and brought them home.

It was funny. Well, it was funny to you. Abby and Kane weren’t very happy. You got a lecture and then made a false promise that you wouldn’t do it again. And you haven’t had to, because now people know not to follow you outside of the fence.

The moment you’re hidden in the treeline, you relax some. You set your bag onto a rock, digging through it to pull out your knife. You tuck it into your belt to keep it in range to grab. After you zip your bag up, you start in the direction where you believe you’ve caught Clarke’s tracks the most.

She’s clever, and she’s usually very clean with her area, but sometimes the dirt is squishy enough to be considered mud, and you’ll find a boot print. She’ll leave scraps of food, twine, and broken objects behind. She makes an effort to hide them in the bushes and ferns, yet you’re still able to find it.

It might have something to do with the fact that you’re actively seeking it out, therefore making it easier to find. Of course, it could belong to anybody, but there aren’t really nomads around here. There’s the Grounders, who each have their colony to stay in, and then there’s the people of the sky—your people. And you all stay inside your camp and walls.

You know you’re coming close to Clarke, there’s been a few times where you could’ve sworn you were on top of her. She moves too fast, making it difficult for you to actually nail her down. Clarke doesn’t want to be found. As much as you respect that, it would be safer if she stayed in Arkadia, or with the Commander. Being out by herself is a recipe for disaster, especially since she’s not exactly loved by everybody.

There’s a lot of controversy surrounding Bellamy and Clarke. When they pulled the lever, they killed hundreds of people inside of Mount Weather, but ended up saving just as many by ending it there. However, Jasper’s girlfriend was included in the mix, since she couldn’t bear the radiation.

This would make him crucify Clarke. Bellamy didn’t get the same treatment. If he had, then Jasper wouldn’t be agreeing to go with Bellamy to Sector Seven. Then again, at this point in time, Jasper doesn’t care much about anything. He spends most of his time drunk, with Monty taking care of him. You’d bet your favorite hair tie that he was intoxicated this afternoon.

And also, Clarke and Bellamy have handled their guilt differently. Clarke ran, she couldn’t stand to see the faces of those she loved. She didn’t like being called a hero, when she had to kill so many people. She wanted to solve it in a better way. Bellamy stayed, obviously. He’s straightened out, as far as you can tell, just a little rough when it comes to the topic.

You try not to talk about it to anyone who isn’t willing to. You avoid it, pretending like it didn’t happen, even though you were one of the many teenagers that had been ‘saved’. One of your biggest regrets is not listening to Clarke when she told you that you needed to get out with her. 

If you had, you wouldn’t have been tortured by Cage. 

You’re still having nightmares about being strapped down on the table, being stood over by them, a needle in one hand, a saw in the other. The thought, even now, makes goosebumps rise over your arms. You watched the procedure happen to three people before it was your turn.

After walking for a couple hours, you decide you can break into your water. You swing the bag off one shoulder, halfway pulling it in front of you. You unzip the largest pocket, shaking the water out of the bag to keep any miscellaneous from falling out while you do so. When you’re done, you close the top halfway, before uncapping the lid.

You press the cool metal to your lips, tilting your head back as you take another step.

A loud snap fills the quiet air, followed by a blinding pain hitting just above your ankle, pulling you down to the Earth. A scream leaves your lips as you fall to your knees. The water canister is gone, thrown several feet away from you. You watch through tear-filled eyes as the water gushes out, soaking the soil and dry pine needles.

“Fuck!” You scream through gritted teeth. “Oh, fuck!”

A wave of nausea hits you before you look at what has your foot trapped. You twist, turning to sit on your butt, allowing you to see the bear trap. Its teeth have sunken into your skin, stinting the blood flow a little. It pools in the puncture wounds, carefully drawing lines down your skin.

This is when your hands begin to shake. Uncontrollably. You reach for your bag, being careful not to jostle your leg. You rip the zippers open, digging through what’s inside, and quickly come to the realization that you didn’t bring a walkie. A habit that you started because of the Azgeda troops that patrol around this area, and their disregard for the truce.

“Oh.” You breathe. You reach for the trap, but you stop when knives begin to get stabbed in your calf, moving up to your knee. “No, no, no.”

You dip your head, clenching your jaw as you wrap your fingers around the teeth. You count down from three in your head, and on one, you try to pry the teeth open. Except, they don’t budge, all they do is move inside your skin, and send streaks of white across your vision.

The lightheadedness is no joke.

One second you’re upright, the next you’re laying on the ground, grass blades tickling your face. You blink, trying to come back to life, but your eyes roll to the back of your head, taking you out. 

The feeling of needles in your muscles jolts you up, actually awake this time. There’s a girl leaning over your ankle, her long red hair slightly matted on her shoulders. She lets out a sigh, shakes her head, and reaches for your bag.

“Hey.” Your face twists. “Get out of that.”

She stops, fingers pausing over the pocket where you keep the emergency medical supplies. How does she know where to look? She slowly turns her head, familiar blue eyes landing on you, eyebrows raising. There’s a long moment that passes between you two, as you decide whether or not you’re hallucinating.

“Clarke?” You sputter. “What are you doing out here? Why’s your hair red?”

“Hunting.” She tells you gruffly, turning her back to you once more. “This is going to hurt.”

She doesn’t leave you any time to comprehend, much less prepare, for her popping the bear trap open. The pressure relief is immediate, but so is the aching pain that hits you like a truck. You groan, holding your breath, watching your vision coat with stars.

Clarke goes back to your bag, rummaging through to pull out what you have. 

“Where have you been?” You ask. “I’ve been looking everywhere.”

“I know.” She says, voice hard. “You shouldn’t be.”

“Why not?” You shake your head. “I care about you and your wellbeing. I want to make sure that you’re safe.”

“I am.” She tells you.

She pours a small handful of alcohol onto a clean rag. When you suck in a breath to ask her another question, her hand ‘slips’, dumping it into your open wounds. You choke, reaching to grab onto anything to hold yourself steady, but you just pull out a handful of grass, instead.

“You can hold my hand.” Clarke says, a look of remorse on her face. She holds out her palm, and you find it surprisingly clean. 

The same can’t be said for her face. She’s got black coal smeared into symbols on her face, which you can’t identify. From a distance, you’d say that she’s dirty and hasn’t bathed herself. There is no smell to accommodate that assumption.

You take her hand, squeezing her fingers. She takes her time dabbing around the several wounds. You watch as the blood doesn’t stop, the way your skin moves, allowing you to see inside of your body. Every time she presses too hard, the alcohol will find its way inside of one of the bite marks.

Before you know it, you’re breathing heavily, picturing the damage this is going to do to your leg. The way you’ll have to clean it, a task you’re not up to doing. You passed out due to pain, this won’t be any different.

“(Y/n), breathe.” Clarke pauses, face twisted. “Just look at me. Forget everything else.”

“That’s hard.” You say shakily. “Because you’re cleaning out my leg.”

“I know.” She looks off to the side. “How about you ask me a few questions?”

“Are you sure?”

“You came all this way.” She murmurs. “Go ahead.”

“Why’s your hair red?” You ask.

She hesitates, “It’s blood, from my hunts. I did it to hide myself.”

“You don’t wash it?”

“I don’t want to risk being caught.” She shrugs. “You can ask me anything, and you decided to start with my hair?”

You laugh, and then wince, “Fine, when are you coming back?”

Clarke doesn’t say anything for a while, and then it extends beyond a minute. You’re afraid that you’ve ruined the conversation, so you keep quiet. She sighs, “I don’t know.”

“Have you been thinking about it, at least?”

“Yes, but it’d be better if I didn’t right now. It’s not safe.”

“Why?” Your face twists.

“Just…” She shakes her head. “Reasons, I can’t explain them to you right now.”

“Clarke, you know you can trust me.” You tell her.

“It’s not the right time.” She says back. “I’m going to bandage this for you. We shouldn’t stay out here for long, it’s going to get dark.”

She leaves no room for argument, taking her time with the sterile white bandages, breaking it off and tucking it into itself. She pulls you up and onto your feet, where you lean against a tree for support. You can’t put any weight down on your ankle without a blistering pain going through your whole leg.

“I won’t be able to make it back on my own.” You tell her.

She zips up your bag, swinging it onto her free shoulder. “I know, I’ll bring you as close to the gate as I can. Can you walk? I’d be happy to carry you.”

“I’ve got it, I just need you for support.” 

Clarke closes the gap between you two. You put a hand on her shoulder, gripping it tightly as you take each step. “Thank you, Clarke.”

“It’s no problem, (Y/n).”

--

this was part of my 3k celebration!!!

[cherrysoulth]

Pissin' Our Pants Yet?- Chapter 4: New order

💕Pairing: Negan x Female Reader 

✏️Genre/au: Canon, Action, Smut, Sci-fi, The Walking Dead Fic

✏️Rating: PG 18+, explicit

📝Wordcount: 9173

⚠️chapter warnings: Shitloads of cursing, Gore details (zombies), Mentions of cults, mentions of cult practices, dictatorship status

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Note that English is not my first language, so please if you find grammar mistakes, let me know. :)

My gratitude goes to @alldevilsarehere90 for her hard work on beta reading this huge chapters🧡

"Pissing our pants yet?" says Negan, the wicked big bad wolf on full display, the dance of shadows and lights in the clearing only making him look more imposing. The alpha in him is exuding from every pore through the depths of his hatred. 

'That's how he uses his anger. He channels it to dominance and subjugation,’ you think as you watch Lucile with her dangerous wires resting at his shoulder, his head held high. If you would have met him in this situation instead, you would have felt far more terrified of him than you were back in the mall. His characteristic smile back to his lips as he starts to walk, knowing they are not yet aware of the things Gregory the pencil dick has told Simon about them. "Boy, do I have a feeling we’re getting close.'' He keeps on his advances, calmly, inspecting the prey, checking each one of them in a semicircle. "Yep, it’s gonna be Pee-Pee Pants City here, real soon," his smile doesn't fade an inch at any moment, then casually points at each one of them while asking: "Which one of you pricks is the leader?" 

"It's this one," Simon replies, pointing to a slim man seemingly in his mid-forties, judging by his peppery beard. Looking at Negan as if he isn't surrounded by at least fifty men or as if Negan is as much of a threat as a walker without legs. To a certain point, you can understand his attitude. 'The dude has taken down a bunch of Saviours like they were pigs waiting to be slaughtered, instead of soldiers to a tyrant's regime,' you remind yourself. "It's this guy," adds Simon with his typical second-in-command tone. Negan looks at the guy up and down, first curious, then gets closer, smiling widely. He already knew. 

"Hi, you’re Rick, right?" he licks his molars, knowing he’s about to break some tough questions for these people, surely: the 'What's he going to do to us?' one. But starts talking seriously and the darkness shown in his features just seconds ago, makes its way into his words. Simon, in front of you, seems to be somewhere darker, his body so tense while seeming to be standing casually, you are sure you heard his joints snap. Like a contained animal on a tight leash. "I’m Negan. And I do not appreciate you killing my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people, you killed more of my people," his eyes strain and his voice grows lower with those words. 

"Not cool. Not fucking cool. You have no idea how not fucking cool that shit is," the guy looks at him and you notice that sparkle in Negans eyes. Something crosses his mind. "But I think you’re gonna be up to speed shortly. Yeah, you are so gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes," that smile slowly comes back to his face, the lights making his pearls stand against the dark expression in the rest of his demeanour. "Yes, you are," his tongue travels to the side of his mouth again and for some sick reason you find that sexy. "You see, Rick, whatever you do, no matter fuckin' what, you don’t mess with the new world order. And the new world order is this, and it’s really very simple, so, even if you’re stupid, which you very well may be, you can understand it." There's a short pause in his speech. "You ready? Here goes, pay attention:" he adds, dropping Lucille from his shoulder to point to the guy who's sweating and shaking like jelly, probably starting to notice there's no way out or trying to figure one out, making him move uncomfortably away from her. 

"Give me your shit, or I will kill you," a confident smile appears on Negan's lips. You are the only lucky bastard at Sanctuary on that matter, there's nothing that Negan can threaten you with besides your own life and you are sure he already knows that wouldn't even be a threat. That is until Daryl has reappeared in your life and something has twisted in your soul. Bringing back the threat of trouble and something old, something you thought you left on the road. "Today was career day." Negan starts to pace in front of them with Lucille at his side, talking louder for everyone to hear. Not that you couldn't in this forest of silence. "We invested a lot so you would know who I am, and what I can do. You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me," he points to a short-haired woman. "That’s your job. Now, I know that is a mighty big, nasty pill to swallow, but swallow it you most certainly mother-fuckin' will." there's some rage in his voice but he knows tonight the rules will be engraved in every single one of their minds with blood. That smile coming and going in the meantime, makes you hope it's just his way of making people think he doesn't care about hurting people to make them fall in line. "You ruled the roost. You built something. You thought you were safe. I get it. But, the word is out: You are not safe. Not even close." emphasising those last words to make a point. 'We are the only ones safe, the Saviours. Only if we follow his rules.' It makes you shiver. 

"In fact, you are fucked. More fucked if you don’t do what I want. And what I want is half your shit. And if that’s too much, you can make, find, or steal more, and it’ll even out sooner or later. This is your way of life now," he explains, extending his arms referring to the situation they are in. "The more you fight back, the harder it will be. So if someone knocks on your door, " he chuckles, "you let us in. We own that door. You try to stop us, and we will knock it down. Do you understand?'' Then he cups his ear not really expecting a response, as he arches his brows towards Rick. All probably because there's still some glare-fight coming from his little crowd. The courtesy isn't replied. "What, no answer?" He steps back again to direct himself to the kneeling group. 

"You don’t really think that you were gonna get through this without being punished, now, did you?" you look at the group stopping your eyes from staying too much on the one body you know. You knew him but you can't stop the thought: 'Anyone but him, please.'  "I don’t want to kill you, people. Just want to make that clear from the get-go. I want you to work for me. You can’t do that if you’re fuckin' dead, now, can you? I’m not growing a garden.'' Then you notice a change in the air, so thick it could be cut with a knife as if the words before were just a warm-up and he is starting the main event. Starting to get serious. "But you killed my people, a whole damn lot of them, more than I’m comfortable with. And for that, for that, you’re gonna fucking pay. So now, I’m gonna beat the holy hell outta one of you." he makes a slight pause to put his weapon of choice on display. 

"This, this is Lucille, and she is awesome. All this is just so we can pick out which one of you gets the honor.'' He keeps walking and stops in front of a redhead that gives him a 'Let it be me, I'm not scared of you,' kind of look, to which Negan smiles, inhaling sharply while rubbing his beard. "Huh. Ugh, I gotta shave this shit," he mutters to himself, then keeps walking till he sees the young man with the patch on his eye. "You got one of our guns." Negan squats in front of the kid. "Yeah. You got a lot of our guns," his gaze grilling on the kid but the boy keeps eye contact. You shiver, thinking that giving him a stink eye in this situation is probably a dead sentence but the boy is so young, he's probably not yet had the time to make big mistakes to pay for. 

"Shit, kid, lighten up. At least cry a little," Negan tells him with a chuckle before clearing his throat. He moves around still not deciding, just creating tension before choosing who's gonna die tonight. But stops in front of the short-haired woman again, who already looked like she was going to pass out when she was put down from the makeshift bed and she looks even worse now, judging from Negan’s ‘not giving a fuck tone’, says: "Je-sus. You look shitty. I should just put you out of your misery right now-"

"No! No!" shrieks an east asian guy, near to tears as he launches forward towards the woman. You bet, to protect her. 'They are a couple, definitely.' Dwight and another Savior reduce him quite violently, the first one pointing the crossbow to his head while the guy grunts on the ground.

"Nope," Negan, who has been watching the whole thing, starts to move again. "get him back in line," commands before sighing.

"N-noo…" grunts the guy while Dwight drags him to his place again. Then growls and yells with impotence and desperation. 'They don't look like bad people, in fact, they look like pretty normal people you would find at the grounds of Sanctuary. Maybe they just wanted to defend themselves' but it's not your call. "Don't... Don't…" the guy continues to plead, Negan chuckles again but you can't see the fun in all this even if he pointed it out to you.

"Hey, listen. Don't any of you, do that again. I will shut that shit down. No exceptions. First one's free. It's an emotional moment," Negans' smile comes back again, "I get it." He pauses. At this point, it seems obvious how many times he's done this to know how to increase the tension and not let the situation become a bloodbath. You realise that this might, indeed, be a tough choice. He has to choose between them the one that will seal the deal. They all are very close to each other somehow, from what you've heard along the waves, seems like the community is tightly bonded together. "Sucks, doesn’t it? The moment you realize you don’t know shit?" He looks at them and stops his eyes at the kid again, then points him with Lucille and his gaze shifts towards Rick. "This is your kid, right?" he laughs cruelly, sucking in a croaky breath. As if it's been a funny realisation, although you know he already knew somehow before making that comment. "This is definitely your kid!" he adds with a chuckle.

"So stop that!-" growls Rick, finally saying something.

"Hey! Do not make me kill the little future serial killer. Don’t make it easy on me," he suggests, showing off that he already knows who is who and what's been done. "I gotta pick somebody. See, everybody's at the table waiting for me to order." He starts to walk again, with his characteristic whistle, letting the air break through his teeth before saying: "I simply cannot decide..." Then turns, giving them his back, before another dark chuckle escapes, adding to his mystique. Turning, again, to look at them, he adds:  "I got an idea…" wetting his lips, giving it a little thought and his teeth gleaming brightly again. A terrible one, you guess. 

"Eenie. Meenie." he starts, pointing at each one of them, starting at Rick. "Miney. Mo. Catch. The tiger. By. His toe. If. He hollers. Let him go..." he moves to the other end of the lined-up people. "My mother. Told me. To pick. The very. Best. One. And you. Are. It." The time stops for a second, so does your heart in anticipation. Something familiar, yet unknown, stirring up some old emotion close to terror in you. Pure terror. "Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy’s other eye out and feed it to his father, and then we’ll start. You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you’re all gonna be doing that!" The mighty strength put on Lucille for the first hit affects his last words. Then something stops in you, a numbing sensation, swallowing anything you'd been feeling until this moment. Your blood cold in your veins as you see real blood dripping. Some old memory triggering but it doesn't clarify, it doesn't show in your mind. "Oh! Look at that! Taking it like a champ!"

"Suck. My. Nuts," replies the redhead as the blood starts flowing through his head and drips down. The people who know him cry and grunt in desperation. You can do nothing, you just stand there trying to seem like you are looking, but your mind is not focused on that anymore. 

It is hard to see someone you know, do those kinds of things to someone else but you remind yourself that this is survival to the fittest, you have chosen a side, you don’t know these people. You have to stick to the plan. They killed a bunch of your people. You are not a heartless bitch for this. Just one kill, just one and everything will be over. Your head spins on the times you've killed, it was always personal somehow: someone who was a threat, someone who'd hurt you or your family, someone hurting someone else who couldn't defend themself… What was really that different from this? Nothing. Your hands are dirty too. Who hasn't killed these days?

"Did you hear that?" You focus back to a mass of brain and blood instead of where a head should be, on the floor. Negans' voice is tired from the effort. "He said: Suck my nuts!" He exclaims, before laughing. He continues to smash the mass. This only adds to the distress of the people on their knees. Negan moans by the strength put on his act and you forget for a second the situation you are in. "Look at this!" he swings Lucille, spraying blood everywhere and makes that deep husky laugh, when he’s enjoying something way too much. "You guys, look at my dirty girl!" he continues between tired breaths. "Sweetheart. Lay your eyes on this." He adds, pointing to a woman within the kneeling group and sighs heavily. "Oh, damn. Were you- Were you together?" points out moving Lucile between the corpse and the woman. "That sucks. But if you were, you should know there was a reason for all this. Red- and hell, he was, is, and will ever be red. He just took one or six or seven for the team!" he concludes, with dark humor added to his last line. You can hear all of them breathing shakily, affected by the circumstances and it spins your head, unable to get joy from it. Unable to convince yourself that joking around in a situation like this is acceptable. "So, take a damn look!'' Then,  before you notice that you have been walking at all and even less moved, you are grabbing Daryl who has tried to jump on top of Negan, surely to punch him. You whisper in his ear "Be smart, don't get anyone else killed..." he moves his head to look at you, eyes wide open, then tries to shake off from your grip. 

"Daryl!" shouts Rick.

"No! Oh, no." You see Negan pointing at Rick. After a little silence, he chuckles looking at you. Your mind processes then that he might assume you protected him, which you did too, somehow. But the darkness in his sight gives you the thought he might have caught on to  you and Daryl knowing each other. If that is it, you two are fucked, in one way or another. "Get him on his knees."

You obey and retire back to your place on the right side in the background, you begin shaking worried he might kill Daryl as he warned just minutes before. Simon approaches, "Calm down, sweetheart," he whispers, but you barely notice. The way you shake being the telltale sign of how troubled you are, makes you shoot him a murderous look and even with all his height and strength he backs up, hand leaving your shoulder. A thought occurs to you, that if Negan kills Daryl... 'Why do you still care, you idiot!? He broke up with you ages ago! Literally, ages, what? Ten-eleven-twelve years ago? Shit, who can remember that...? Maybe he is not the person you remember him to be.' You keep strong but know you will hate Negan if he kills him. You would kill him. 

In a normal situation, you would be working in a conversation with Daryl. Settle things for you to move on from the past for good. Not that you would bother with anyone else. After all, you were raised not to take bullshit from anyone. But now, 'Shit... This totally sucks...'. 

Negan looks at you once more but your head is already spinning to the past. 

You tie your middle-length, dyed black hair in a ponytail before you hand him a cup of hot chocolate from the thermos. Then you rest your head on his thighs once again. Staring up at the sky full of bright tiny dots in the darkness whilst you caress the picnic blanket next to his legs with your index, making circles while watching your breaths making foggy clouds in the air.

It was your idea to go see the stars in the middle of November but it's the best time to go stargazing, when there's less heat and humidity haze, not that you couldn't see them in summer but the view was definitely better. 

The road to Brasstown Bald has also been enjoyable by itself. Anything that has to do with going on Daryl's bike is pleasurable to you. Sometimes you wish you could just have your own and at this point, you know Daryl wouldn't be the kind to shame you about it. You can't say the same about your mum, she definitely would oppose the idea. She has had enough of her son being a biker, she doesn't want her daughter to be a biker herself. Little does she know you are actually an ol' lady. Even Merle calls you that.

You pull your furry blanket higher due to the cold and Daryl's gaze drifts towards you. In a quick movement, he places his drink over the grass, peeling off his own blanket and lies down next to you. Then takes the spare blanket and pulls it over the one you already have.

Although your heights are not so different, his much bigger frame makes you feel tiny in his arms as you cuddle, with your head against his chest. His breaths and his heartbeat are like lullabies. The tenderness filling your heart makes you wish moments like this could last forever. 

It's surprising how many things your body can do automatically. You've moved into the background from one edge of the crowd to another, being now on the left. Even with that, you've seen it all, as if you were watching. Even if you've tried to eradicate it.

"Sure. Yeah," Negan keeps his squat in front of Rick. "Give me his axe," ’Jesus. What's he gonna do with it now…?’ you wonder. Simon walks forward from his corner and hands it to Negan, who puts the axe in front of Rick and starts to get into an ironic stare-off, smiling and analyzing the man he has in front of him once again. After seeing there is no back down from Rick, his demeanour turns stern. Standing, he puts the axe in his belt with a deep sigh, then grabs Rick by the collar of his jacket and starts to drag him through to the RV. "I'll be right back. Maybe Rick will be with me. And if not, well, we can just turn these people inside out, won’t we?" He pushes Rick through the open door and adds: "I mean the ones that are left." He points at you and then points to the vehicle in a silent order. You jog following after him, closing the door behind, you can locate the axe pinned on the table before you sit in the copilot. Negan is already in the driving seat. He’s looking  straight ahead with determination. 

"Let's go for a ride." He tries to start the engine with no success. "Wow. What a piece of shit!" Then he sucks in with his tongue between his teeth and adds: "I'm gonna kill you..." with mockery, imitating Ricks' previous statement and chuckling at it. "Are you kidding me? Did you see what just happened? What I just did? You just..." he comments, sighing ironically. "Your best chance, is to stand up, grab that axe, and drive it to the back of my head," he states, without even turning around. You are not sure if it is due to cockiness or because he is sure Rick will not do it but you're still sitting with your legs halfway in Negan's direction in case you have to stand abruptly. "See how you do?" Now you see Negan looking through the rearview mirror. "Keep acting tough. Go ahead. Grab, the damn, axe.'' When Rick does exactly that, Negan stands up at the second, pointing an M4A1 SOPMOD previously left next to the driver seat while you point him with your Magnum Desert Eagle. You have not even bothered to get up and just turned in your seat. Negan makes a denial gesture with his head and chuckles.

"Drop it," He says in a tone that almost mimics the sigh, which causes a shiver of excitement in your body. ‘At what point have you started to like his dominant tone…? Damn girl, you're fucked up.’ Rick obeys,  the clink of the axe on the ground sounds around you. Then Negan uses the base of his weapon to hit Rick's belly, cutting off his breath. Sighing again, he sticks the axe back on the table in such way that it makes Rick reel back, even though you remain impassive. "Do not make me get up again." Concludes Negan dryly. When he turns back, you exchange glances. "Well, look at that. Dawn is breakin'." his eyes meet yours again, with a face you can not decipher, then turns back, his pearly smile doing the honors on his face once again. "It's a brand-new day, Rick," he announces with a chuckle and sits in front of the wheel, ready to go. "I want you to think about what could have happened, think about what happened, and think about what can still happen." Negan sighs as if tired of repeating himself, which is probably not a good thing for the dude on his knees. Then Negan starts the engine and the big machine finally moves. Silence falls upon you all for a few seconds and you take the chance to observe the person who has become Negan’s plaything, only to realise he is lost inside his mind. ‘Good, he's thinking, maybe this will end soon for all of us. This shit is taking too long if he just accepts that he has nothing left and that he lost… I hate this shit I wanna go home.' The day is brightening but the road is covered in a dense fog that won't let you see in an inch of distance without the lights. You hear a walker approaching just before the RV splashes its head in the front window. 

Negan laughs with malice "Oh! Boom!" jokes Negan before he keeps laughing. "That reminds you of anybody you know?" ’Oh boy...’ Another giggle comes along while bashing another walker’s head against the front of the vehicle. "Oh, yeah." The growling continues, you suppose it must be a herd attracted by all the noise that has been going on the past few hours. The brakes squeal and the engine shuts off, then Negan makes the keys jingle in his hand. Grunting, he walks to the back but you just stay and observe. Squatting on Rick’s side, he states: "You are mine. The people back there," Rick does not meet Negans' eyes as he speaks "they are mine. This," He shows Rick the axe "This is mine."

All the grunting noises coming from outside indicate a large amount of walkers approaching the RV. Negan stands up and walks to the door opening it and does something you would not expect. After killing one of the undead, looks at Rick whose eyes are on the carpet that covers the floor and with a naughty face, he throws the axe over the roof of the motorhome. "Hey, Rick, go get my axe. Let's be friends." Rick looks at him for a second, pissed off, not wanting to bow his will to Negan’s ways of humiliating people. Another walker tries to get inside, fighting for the taste of flesh. "Oh," Negan says with a chuckle, then bashes its head with Lucille. Negan sighs and angrily approaches Rick, threatening him with Lucille. "Get my axe." Moving away to leave some space for the guy to reach the door, you can see in the obvious expressions of his face that Rick is struggling to give up. But then Negan throws him out of the truck without giving him a thought and closes the door behind. You stay put, staring at Negan who's now looking back at you.

"I can't wait to get home," you whisper, looking away while you stand, more for yourself than anything else.

"Yeah. Well. I have a better idea after what I saw earlier," says Negan with a lusty whisper. You suppose he is referring to the fact that you saved his gorgeous face from a punch.

"You're welcome," you say, looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. "It was nothing, really. But I was referring to going to take a nap. I'm so done..." you talk back in a playful tone while closing the distance between you. His features show he's not in the mood for pull-and-push.

"I was expecting to end what we started before. Maybe get that sweet a-" You give him a killshot glare to which he responds with a dark smile from his side.

"Language," you grill.

"Hey, didn’t mean to-" he responds quietly in contrast with his previous attitude but gets interrupted by Rick's footsteps on the roof of the RV. He looks up, forgetting about you and loud enough for Rick to hear, says: "Bet you thought you were all gonna grow old together, sittin' around the table at Sunday dinner and the happily ever after," pausing for dramatic effect. "No. Doesn't work like that, Rick. Not anymore. Think about what happened," then his eyes meet yours. "People died, Rick. It's what happened. Doesn't mean the rest of them have to. Get me my axe." There’s the lesson you mustn’t forget: he doesn’t feel like what he is doing is wrong. "Get me my axe!" repeats looking at the ceiling and then whispers to you: "So, sweetheart you are on my top list now. The way you stopped that guy, your fury..." he gets closer, expecting you to react but instead, you press your hand on his chest. He wastes no time grabbing it and kissing your wrist.

"Let's leave this for the privacy of Sanctuary, shall we?" you whisper in his ear. He puts his hand gently in your throat, catching your jaw and kisses you. You can hear in the background how the amount of walkers around the RV is increasing.

"I thought you were the guy, Rick. Maybe you're not!" speaks Negan but this time doesn't look away, his hand moves to the back of your hip. His voice louder and intense. "We'll give it one more go. Now, I really want you to try this time. Last chance," his face gets darker when he hears no movement from up, his hand leaves your hip to unlock the automatic weapon and his eyes look up before shouting: "Bring me, my axe!" then he moves quickly away from you and starts to fire it towards the ceiling, slightly away from where you could hear Ricks' footsteps. You note the thud of his run and the sound of a chain rattling. The two of you head to the back window to see him hanging, grasping like a koala onto an undead guy hanging off the bridge. Then the walkers start to pull him down by his feet when he slides a little from the moving body. You look at Negan, who only smiles at you. You gesture at him with a: 'Please, do something,' look, his only response is a chuckle and an eye roll as if he thinks you have no sense of humor. When your eyes make their way outside again, you both see how the head of the hanging corpse is separating from the body 'Jesus! That's awful!' you think, totally disgusted. Negan quickly opens the back window and starts to shoot at the walkers surrounding Rick. You move back to your seat, expecting this to be over soon.

"Clock is ticking, Rick!" Says Negan, closing the window with a knock of his hand against it, then adds, "Think about what can still happen!" You can hear Rick outside grunting, assuming he's fighting the walkers. Negan winks at you and you have to hold back the disgust you feel for his enjoyment. Negan presses the horn, to alarm Rick outside, you guess, or maybe the walkers. You can hear Rick bashing walkers on the other side of the door. One splashes against the RV, like a popped water balloon. He tries to enter but the door is locked and you can hear one more crashing against the bodywork. 

Negan calmly opens the door and shoots with his M4 clearing a little area for Rick to enter, then gets out of the way before Rick jumps in closing the door behind him, panting hard. Negan paces in the same spot, while Rick attempts to get the air back into his lungs. When he finally stands, the big boss looks him over, demanding the object with his hand. Rick reluctantly gives it to him with hate in his eyes and sits at the table with his head down. Negans' stare stays on the other man and even with his back to you, you know he is smiling. "Attaboy!" with that he sinks the axe into the table once more and walks to the wheel. You see from the corner of your eye how Rick follows him with his eyes, staring daggers at him. 'Man, you are not understanding shit, are you…?' you think. He is so focused that he seems to have forgotten your presence. Negan starts the engine and drives back to the meeting point.

"We're here, prick," states Negan, standing up and walking over to Rick, who at the same time keeps that killshot glare fixed on him. Negan notices and judging by the way he smiles, you know he's not having any of it. 'This guy has way too much testosterone or he’s just a fucking idiot. Oh lord… Just bow your head and accept you lost'. Negan starts to talk while checking on the cabinets. "This must be hard for you, right? I mean, you have been King Shit for so long. Losin' three of your own like," He snaps his fingers in front of Rick. “And yes, I'm taking the punching hellcat too.”

“Oh. Goody!" he exclaims when he finds a bottle of ethyl alcohol before opening it. Following the motion with a sigh, he leaves the cap on the table and leans on top of Rick before adding. "You were in charge." He unhooks the axe from the table, "Hell," he rubs it against Rick's jacket to remove the traces of clotted blood that cover it, making Rick wince. "you were probably addicted to it. And now," Negan starts throwing the liquid over the metal of the weapon to clean it. "well, clip, clip- that's over. But," he points out, as he takes a seat in front of Rick, "you can still lead a nice, productive life producing for me." Rick's eyes meet Negan's, not submitting and this time he passes Rick the axe by the handle. You can sense his smile again. "I think you're gonna need it. I just got a feelin'," Negan tells him before he sighs. You know that Rick is pushing his patience with the useless resistance he is showing. "So take it," he concludes, demanding. By his tone, you'd say Negan is borderline angry but you can't really tell if it's part of the game or if it's real. 'His mood swings… damn…' He stands and you follow his lead, only to see him throwing Rick out of the RV.

Negan grabs Rick by the nape again, to put him in front of his group as if he was a dog. You follow out of the RV and close the door behind you before reuniting with the rest of the crew.

"Here we are. Let me ask you something, Rick. Do you even know what that little trip was about?" inquires Negan without moving. You can now see the faces of Rick's group in detail and notice, that Daryl now has blood running down his shoulder, which pisses you off, awakening old feelings of protectiveness. "Speak when you're spoken to."

"Okay. Okay," replies Rick breathing heavily.

"That trip was about the way that you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand..." explains Negan, adding a smile when Rick gives him the look, again. "But you're still looking at me the same damn way. Like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that's not gonna work! I wanted you to understand. So," then he squats next to the man in question, playing with Lucille in his grip. "Do I give you another chance?"

"Yeah," replies Rick rapidly, still panting. "Yes. Yes."

"Okay." Negan taps on Rick's shoulder before adding: "All right!" standing again and rubbing his nose thoughtfully. "Here it is," bouncing he paces for a moment, "the grand prize game. What you do next will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone's last crap day or just another crap day." He then gestures to the Saviours at the back. "Get some guns to the back of their heads." obedience takes only seconds. "Good. Good. Now level with their noses, so if you have to fire-" gesturing an explosion paired with sound effects in a very graphic way, adds: "it'll be a real mess." then chuckles. "Kid," he says, calling the youngest subjects attention, inviting him with a hooked finger, then pointing to the floor where he wants him to go. "Right here." Disobedient, the boy does not move and stays put looking back at him. "Kid. Now." Finally he moves.

"You a southpaw?" Negan asks him once he is where he ordered.

"Am I a what?" asks the kiddo, giving Negan a strange look.

"You a lefty?" Negan inquires, rephrasing his question as he would to a child.

"No." replies the boy, derogatorily. ‘This kid has a fucking nerve! Like father, like son...’

"Good," adds Negan, while tying his own belt on the left arm of the kid with Lucille held under his own. "That hurt?" he wonders then, with no genuine care in his tone.

"No." 

‘God, Negan will fool himself into thinking this kid would make a good Saviour. His face says it all...’.

"Should. It's supposed to," he replies with his characteristic grin. "All right. Get down on the ground, kid. Next to daddy. Spread them wings!" orders the man, throwing the boy’s hat away at his back. The kid obeys when Negan makes him go down to the floor and gives him a final push to make his belly touch the ground, with a grunt. "Simon, you got a pen?" 

"Yeah," Simon responds, unimpressed.

"Sorry, kid," apologizes the big boss as he takes off the lid from the marker pen, then groans when he squats next to the boy as if his knees hurt after so much bouncing. With the cap held between his teeth, he starts drawing something on the kid's arm and adds: "This is gonna be as cold as a warlock's ballsack, just like he was hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it right across the forearm." then takes the cap from his mouth and returns it to the pen before passing it back to Simon. "There you go. Give you a little average."

"Please don't. Please don't," begs Rick, eyes pleading with Negan.

"Me?" Negan chuckles dismissively. "I ain't doing shit." then stands, with Lucille back in his grip again. "Ahh...Rick, I want you to take your axe and cut your son's left arm off, right on that line."

‘What the fuck…’ 

"Now, I know- I know. You're gonna have to process that for a second. That makes sense. Still though, I'm gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die," Rick begins hyperventilating. "then Carl dies, then the people back home die, and then you, eventually. I'm gonna keep you breathing for a few years, just so you can stew on it."

"You-You don't have to do this. We understand. We understand." pleads a dreadlock-haired woman.

"You understand," emphasizes Negan. "Now. I'm not sure that Rick does," he remarks, before returning his attention to the man in question. "I'm gonna need a clean cut right there on that line. Now, I know this is a screwed-up thing to ask, but it's gonna have to be like a salami slice." 

‘He’s got to be fucking joking… why am I even surprised at this point...’ you think. 

"Nothing messy, clean, 45 degrees- Give us something to fold over. We got a great doctor. The kid'll be fine..." Then fakes to ponder on it for a second. "Probably." Squatting again directly in front of him he continues, "Rick this needs to happen now,  chop-chop, or I will crush the little fella's skull myself." he adds, aiming the baseball bat at the kids' head.

"It can-It can-It can be me. It can be me. W-W-" Rick stutters sniffing, completely discomposed. "Y-You can do it to me. I c-I can go with-with you."

"No. This is the only way..." Negan replies calmly. "Rick, pick up the axe." He orders as he stands again. A short silence is the response. "Not, making a decision, is a biiiig decision." Negan’s tone is starting to rise, meaning his patience is cracking. "You really want to see all these people die? You will. You will see every ugly thing," Rick hyperventilates again. "Oh, my God. Are you gonna make me count? Okay, Rick. You win. I am counting. Three!"

"Please…" Rick starts crying, "Please…" he gasps, "It can be me. Pleeease!" the crying intensifies, desperation evident in his words. "Please don’t…"

"Two!" Shouts Negan without compassion.

"Please, don't do-" "Rick continues pleading while sobbing. 

"This is it," replies Negan, after he squats to grab the crying man's face to make his point clear. "One!"

"Aaah!" Growls Rick desperately.

"Dad just do it." you can hear the kid whisper. “Just do it." 

‘What a pair of balls.’ 

Rick stays there struggling, breathing heavily and you start to think he might pass out. You have seen someone do so before, being under pressure, sometimes the body just collapses but instead, he keeps screaming, grabs the axe and points it to the sky, getting ready to do what he knows will change his kids' life. Negan squats next to Rick again, but his face is an image of winning and pride. Rick looks at him with the most pleading eyes you’ve ever seen. Broken.

"You answer to me. You provide for me." Rick nods obediently. All you can think is, 'This is what Sherry meant when she said he always gets what he wants, no matter what…' "You belong to me. Right?" growls Negan, while the man continues nodding, eagerly trying to get air back into his lungs. "Speak when you're spoken to!" shouts Negan grabbing Rick’s face violently "You answer to me! You provide for me!"

"Provide for you" replies Rick in a broken voice.

"You belong to me, right?!" remarks Negan, still shouting.

"Right," Rick answers.

"Right." Negan wins. ‘Negan always wins.' you think. 

"That. Is the look I wanted to see!" He exclaims, standing again. But things aren't over yet as he grabs the axe. "We did it, all of us, together. Even the dead on the ground. Hell, they get the spirit award, for sure." sighing, he adds: "Today was a productive damn day! Now, I hope, for all your sakes, that you get it now. That you understand how things work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you, that," he interrupts himself, chuckling. "is over now. Ah..." he adds before doing something that puts you on high alert, pointing at Daryl with Lucille: "Dwight! Load him up.'' The man in question has to put some effort to pull him back to the back of the van before he points at Daryl with the crossbow. Then you look at Daryl for a last time, his eyes meet yours before they close the doors. 

Negan squats again, next to Rick. "He's got guts- Yeah, he does. Not a little bitch like someone I know," he remarks, mocking Rick. "I like him. He's mine now. But you still want to try something?-Not today, not tomorrow- Not today, not tomorrow-? I will cut pieces off of-" he looks confused for a second and directs his eyes to Simon. "Hell's his name?"

"Daryl," Simon answers solemnly.

"Wow." Negan chuckles. "That actually sounds right!" his eyes dart back to Rick. "I will cut pieces off of Daryl and put them on your doorstep." smiling he decides to rephrase: "Or, better yet, I will bring him to you and have you do it for me." then he chuckles and pats Rick's shoulder before standing up. "Welcome to a brand-new beginning, you sorry shits!" he shouts, theatrically. "I'm gonna leave you a truck. Keep it. Use it to cart all the crap you're gonna find me." Then everybody starts to move, including Negan. You too in his direction. "We'll be back for our first offering in one week. Until then ta-ta!"

With that, he leaves behind his trail of destruction. In this case, it is more psychological than physical. 

You leave along with Negan, right behind him as you both get into the car. There and then the tiredness hits you. ‘Shit, I’m getting too comfortable… I was never this tired when alone.' But you put your seat back and close your eyes in what could be read as a trustful gesture towards Negan. You can feel his glare for a second but you just relaxe and let the darkness consume you. Then you are in a different place. 

It’s a cold night, too cold to be outside but your group has not found a shelter yet. After two days of walking around, trying to find food and medicines for Eric, the member who has been ill for a few days. Without that luck, it’s just getting worse. You have no other option than to light a fire for all of you to warm up. Laura and Alan, the blonde couple will keep the watch during the night so the rest of you can sleep. 

You wake up, startled by a scream, to find Eric has inexplicably become a walker. He had just a bad cold, no bite, no scratch. Now he's attacking your mum, who was sleeping right next to him to offer some aid during the night. 

He is ripping right into her throat by the time you all react to the horrible scene unfolding before you. Your first reaction is to put a bullet through his head. Running towards your mum, you can only watch as she chokes on her own blood. Tears start running down your cheeks and a hard lump forms in your throat, as you contain a scream of pain. Out of love and compassion, you show mercy by shooting her right in the middle of the forehead. 

You stand there, staring at her lifeless body with no light in her eyes, it's as if time has stopped, as if you were frozen, unable to move a muscle. She’s gone. Your mother is dead. 

The warm tears keep falling but you are numb, your thoughts collapsing, until you feel a hand pulling you before snapping back to reality. The screams and the gunshot have attracted more walkers to your camp. Some members of your group are already dead, their bodies scattered around you with chunks of them missing. Finally reacting, you run in the direction you are being pulled in. Your brother has your hand and you are both already breathless in your escape. 

After killing a few walkers on your way, you two get to a tree to rest for a few and that is when you notice it. Your hand is wet with red, blood, your brother's blood. You follow the trail up to his shoulder to see a bite. He is already losing too much blood, it probably nicked an artery. 

"John…" he hushes you. "John." You whisper this time. "You are bleeding..." you say. As if he hasn’t noticed yet, his eyes follow your gaze to his arm, under the light of the moon it seems to illuminate it.

"Shit!" he whispers. "Fuck!" you see a walker go the way you just came from. "You have to shoot me, Allie."

"What!? No!" He hushes you again. "No way…" you insist, adamant.

"I’m going to die, Alice." That shoots you like a bullet through the heart and you start to sob. "I don’t want to become one of those things… and I will only slow you down if we go together, for me to end up like them anyway. I don’t want to put you in danger.'

"Please don’t…" You can't stop crying. You feel weak and lonely all of a sudden. Unable to believe you are going to lose the only people you ever loved in your life on the same night. Your mum and your brother wiped out like dust in the wind. As if they were nothing. "I can’t do this alone… Please…"

"Allie, I love you and I want you to try to live. There has to be somewhere you can live a life, there has to be somewhere. I want you to find it. I want you to fight for it. I want you to live. Promise me you will live." You don’t say anything. "Promise me, Alice."

"I promise." You say and hug him, only to feel the accelerated beating of his heart, working very hard to keep the blood pumping through his body.

"You have to do it now," he mutters. You don’t know how much time has passed but you can see your brother looks paler. He tries to pick up the gun that is still in your hand but you pull your hand away. He looks at you, eyes pleading, but you can’t do it. Something stops you. Something selfish that wants to keep clinging onto your bond.

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…" you whisper as you cry. He nods, understanding, and with a movement faster than you expect, he yanks the gun out of your hand and shoots himself in the temple.

You whimper and automatically cling to his body stopping it from falling. You cradle him, burying your head against his chest, letting the knot in your throat break in a pained cry.

You wake up with a whimper as someone's hand moves you. You panic for a second but then notice you're still in Negan's car and he’s been the one to shake you awake.

"Sorry, love. You seem to be going through hell there." You notice the warm sensation of tears falling through your cheeks. "Oh shit…" You rush to swipe at your skin unwilling to show your weakness.

"I’m fine" he looks at you, clearly not believing it but he doesn't press it as he returns his eyes to the road. Noticing you’re shaking, you put your seat straight and rub your hands feeling strangely numb. ‘If the nightmare is back, it has to mean something’. 

You are still restless when you get out of the car. Negan starts ordering you, the Saviours, to occupy your next hours resting since he's satisfied with the job you all did. You see Dwight taking Daryl out of the van, Negan gives him a nod, and then he walks to the door and disappears through it. You feel the urge to go behind them and make sure Daryl is fine but that would be a serious mistake, for the both of you. So masking your nervousness, you lead the way through the corridors. Feeling a big, warm hand take hold of your wrist, takes you by surprise and your first response is to snatch your hand away that is before you realize it’s Negan.

"What’s going on?" He wonders seriously.

"Sorry, I'm just really tired," you reply showing a toothy smile but Negan does not buy it.

"I wouldn’t like to have a misunderstanding here, so, for your own sake, tell me what’s going on." He asks politely, yet there's a threatening undertone to it.

"I just vividly dreamed about how my mum and brother died… I think I’m feeling a little bit out of my body right now. My apologies," you answer, deleting the smile from your face. You can’t believe the fact that Negan gets closer and kisses your forehead.

"Go to sleep, sweetheart. I’ll see you in a few hours," he whispers. You nod appreciating the gesture, and with that you leave, walking slowly through the empty corridors. Once again in your room, you let your body fall on top of the bed and everything becomes pitch dark again. 

You wake up confused and alarmed for a second before realising where you are. It's night time and silence reigns at Sanctuary, as always. That's one good thing that came along with the disease. The silence. 'Some day nature will win it's place back.' you wish.

You get up from the bed thinking it could be a good chance to sneak out and get into the cells and see Daryl again, to know what kind of treatment he has been given. 

'Am I stupid to worry about him?' you wonder.  Looking through the room in the darkness, only the moonlight allows you to find the clothes you were wearing earlier. Still not showered, there is no point in changing the garments. 

Your steps lead you to the cells. The door isn't closed but you take a careful look at what's around you, in case there's someone on watch. There's an annoying song playing on repeat but you don't dare touch the music player. Surprisingly, there is no one looking after the prisoners. Taking the chance to look at which doors are locked before you find out only one of them is. Then you find yourself entering the guardian's room, looking for the set of keys. 

Opening the door you see a plastic plate on the floor with some sort of sandwich and Daryl covering his eyes from the light in the corridor, in one corner of the room. Your eyes fall over his dirty clothes and hair, thinking how the man has definitely seen better days. Then you realise he's looking at you. 

"Are you okay?" you ask, feeling stupid. He's obviously not but it's more like an opener of conversation. You begin to squat in front of him and reach out to touch his shoulder, only for him to avoid it. 

"I mean no harm…"

"Why are you with them?" he inquires, fierce eyes meeting yours.

"Seems things have taken a twist, uh?" you reply bitterly, unable to hold your tongue without that judgement.  "Now I'm the one with the bad guys and you're with the good ones. Who would have said that ten years ago, when your brother screwed everything up and you… still chose him," you grill him sarcastically, he lowers his head just slightly while still analyzing your face. 'Are you sorry or you are still your brother's puppy dog?'

"It was-" he tries to speak but you interrupt him.

"I was alone. I had no option. Also… I thought it could be a better chance of survival," his eyes still hard on you soften a little, just slightly enough for you to notice. "Don't lecture me, from what I've heard you killed dozens of Saviours for no apparent reason…"

"If you think they are good people you're delusional," he comments. You chuckle. It seems that some of Negan’s traits might be running off on you.

"Call me whatever you like Daryl… I've always done right by my conscience, I'm not going against it now." You whisper the last word. "I'll also remind you what I said that day; 'I forgive you'. No matter how bitter I am about it." you whisper that close to his ear, waiting for him to lash out at you but only surprise alters his features. He says nothing. When you move to stand, you find something calling your attention in the corner of your eye. Dwight's shocked look from the other side of the door with a sandwich in his right hand.

You calmly close the door and walk his way handing him the set of keys, with a dangerous smile, warning him to keep it a secret. If he were to drag you down, he would fall too and you both know it. Instead, he just nods and you keep walking while deciding it might be a good idea to have a shower and some food. 

In a hurry, you walk to pick up your stuff and rush to the showers, in case you are needed for anything. Afterwards with your hair still damp you sit on the couch of your room, opening a can of sardines, and cutting some bread to fill your stomach, even though it's still quite nauseous from the previous events. 'He's there, eating shit and I'm here eating like a monarchy these days. If I was lucky I wouldn't even know he's still alive…'

You are almost done when you hear a recognisable knock. 

"Come in," you call.

"Hello, darling," says Negan, swinging the door open slowly and entering with his hand still on it. His eyes meet yours with darkness.

Taglist @stxrg4zer @indigosparkle444 @paintlavillered

I hope you enjoyed this. Let me know your thoughts and reblog to let it spread 😊 See you soon! ~

[tiannasfanfic]

Constitution

Eddie Munson x Reader (Smut)

| Masterlist | AO3 Lrink |

Summary: While waiting on your friends to come over, you decide to keep yourself occupied by having a little...hands on fun with Eddie.

Rating: Explicit

Author Note: Author Note: afab reader, no pronouns used.

CW: CW: Cursing; Oral (m receiving, with some f*ce f*cking); Fingering (Vag); Minor switching (both Eddie and Reader); Dom/sub dynamic; Edging; Degradation and Praise; Affectionate name calling (whore).

Word Count: 1,804

It finally happened.

All of the working and saving and missing everything of interest for the better part of a year had finally paid off.

You and Eddie had gotten your own place and were now moved in together.

Of course, a housewarming party was in order.

You two wasted no time in putting one together for that following weekend. You had barely started unpacking, but the excitement of having everyone over to your own place was just too great to put off. The whole crew was coming over for a fall break barbecue to celebrate.

Everyone would be arriving at any second…and, yet there you were, on your knees between Eddie’s legs with his cock down your throat.

“Fuck, babe,” Eddie groaned deeply, panting between his words. You heard a dim thump as his head dropped onto the cushion of the back of the couch. “Swear…Christ…die…happy…man…”

When Eddie couldn’t speak in full sentences, you knew you were doing something right.

You told everyone to get there around 3pm. It was now 3:07. It wasn’t unusual for most of them to be running late though. Despite Steve’s best efforts, herding the kids and Robin could sometimes be like herding cats. You knew, you had done it before. It would be surprising that Nancy was late, but you already knew she was out picking up Johnathan, El and Will from the airport. They would be heading straight over from there, but you weren’t expecting them until closer to 4 anyway since their flight didn’t land until 3.

While you were aware that your time was running short, you couldn’t exactly say you cared overly much. Role reversals like this didn’t tend to happen very often, where your dominant side came out and he was compliant to you. But when you did things like, for instance, come into the living room, announcing you were going to blow him and he was going to sit still for it, Eddie didn’t exactly have it in him to tell you no.

You bobbed your head at a steady rhythm, taking care to stroke the underside of his shaft with your tongue. Your hands were gripped onto his hips where they were planted on the couch. Whenever Eddie would start to move, like to thrust upwards, you’d give them a gentle push to remind him to keep his ass down. So far, he’d done very well, with only a couple of slip ups like just now.

But, even still, if only you had more time, you’d slow your moves way down, prolonging the experience until he was begging you to go faster. You would have to let it slide this time though. Your goal from the very beginning was to make him cum before the party, and you had no intention of giving up.

As your head came up, you paused with just the head of his cock in your mouth. You slowly circled your tongue around it and added just a bit more suction. Eddie whimpered, his hips twitching under your hands again. While one of his hands was at the back of your head, his long fingers entwined in your hair, he wasn’t guiding you or pulling at you. It was sitting there out of habit, its natural resting place anytime you gave him head.

“Please,” Eddie said, his voice barely a whisper.

You opened your eyes then to lift your gaze upwards. Eddie had raised his head up to look down at you, his face flushed and eyes pleading.

He didn’t say anymore and didn’t have to. His tone said everything.

Please make me cum.

You didn’t have to be asked twice.

Without warning, you took his cock all the way into your mouth in one motion, your nose stopping in the curls at the base of his shaft. Eddie gasped loudly, his fingers gripping tighter into your hair. You immediately set a fast rhythm, keeping a moderate suction, but taking the full length of his shaft with each downward motion of your head.

Now Eddie couldn’t stop himself from twitching, couldn’t stop his hips from bucking upwards. His sudden desperation made you softly moan around his cock. You always got turned on by sucking Eddie’s cock, but the more vocal he got, the more intense the heat between your legs got. Eddie cried out, throwing his head back on the couch again. His other hand moved from where it was gripping onto the cushion to your shoulder, holding onto you for dear life instead.

“God, f-fuck, shit,” Eddie stammered through his moans, his voice getting higher pitched than normal.

As he began thrusting into your mouth with more purpose, you felt the start of a tickle at the very back of your tongue. That meant your gag reflex would be kicking in soon. You focused on relaxing your throat, so he was able to thrust down it a couple more times before it tightened against him. Once he felt that, he knew what that meant even before a soft gagging sound left your throat.

Eddie immediately stopped moving and loosened his grip on you. You slid his cock halfway out of your mouth and readjusted yourself on the floor. Moving a hand off his hip, you took ahold of the base of his shaft in a soft grip. After a few seconds, once you felt your throat ease and knew the gagging had passed, you resumed.

Now you timed the bobbing of your head with each stroke of your hand. Your lips and tongue trailing the up his hard length then down. The wetness from your mouth lubricated his cock, letting your fingers glide easily against his skin. Once you got the timing you wanted down, you picked up speed.

Eddie was close to losing his damn mind by this point.

Beyond words at this point, all he could do was moan and whimper. When he was able to say something, it was limited to your name and various curses, strung together in one babbling sentence. He couldn’t help but thrust up into your hand and mouth again, only this time each thrust was shallower, more erratic. You knew that meant Eddie was getting closer to the edge.

You moved your hand away from his cock and took him back down your throat. Eddie gasped, gripping your hair tightly. Now he was beyond rationality, his only conscious thought was the burning need to shoot his load down your throat.

And so, the roles reversed back to normal.

Holding onto your hair with one hand and the back of your head with the other, Eddie completely stopped you from moving your head. You only had a second to prepare before he started fucking your mouth with wild abandon.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he panted, eyes locked on your face, watching as his cock disappeared through your lips. “Good girl, such a good fucking girl…”

Then his head dropped back on the couch with a loud moan, and you could see his eyes were squeezed tightly shut. His thrusting became shallow, his legs shook on either side of you. The taste of his precum washed over your tongue.

“Mmm,” you moaned around his cock, then hollowed your cheeks to add more suction.

A deep groan erupted from Eddie; his cock twitched in your mouth…

Then suddenly someone was pounding in the front door. Or, rather, several someone’s. It sounded like four separate hands were knocking at the door.

It scared the hell out of you, making you both jump and yell in surprise.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” Eddie hissed, quickly pushing you off him.

“Fucking damnit,” you panted, getting to your feet.

There was no way to finish now. You both knew that. The scare had snapped Eddie back from the edge and there was no way your friends would wait outside long enough for you to finish him off.

“Babe, I am so sorry,” you said, quickly getting your hair sorted out after Eddie messed it up. “I was really trying.”

“I know, babe,” Eddie swallowed, trying to get his breathing under control as he got his still hard cock tucked back into his pants. “Don’t worry, I think this was my fault.”

The knocking continued at the door, now with a singsong chorus of, “open up, we’re here!”

“Your fault?” you asked, getting the tear streaks wiped off your face with the sleeve of your shirt before fixing your clothes. “How was that your fault?”

Eddie had to stand up in order to close his jeans. Even still, he winced and had to readjust himself a few times before he was comfortable.

“I put too much pressure on myself,” he chuckled then, straightening out the rest of his clothes before turning back to you. “Kept thinking about how I better hurry up and cum. I guess it distracted me too much.”

You thought about that for a second, then chuckled.

“That makes sense,” you said, then stepped over to him to place a soft kiss on his lips. “I’ll make it up to you later, I promise.”

“I know you will,” he said, coming back in for another kiss before grinning wickedly at you.

Before you had the chance to move, Eddie pulled you over to him by your waist. He slipped his other hand between your bodies, sliding it down into the front of your jeans. You looked up at him, a wicked grin spreading across your face now as you saw him realize you weren’t wearing any underwear.

“Such a dirty whore,” Eddie muttered, leaning down to brush his lips over your earlobe. “How did I get so lucky?”

Your mouth opened to reply with something sexy, but you let out a loud moan instead as his middle finger slid through your wet folds then sank deep inside you.

“Mmm, guess it won’t just be me having a long night,” he said softly into your ear, fingering you for a few more seconds before withdrawing his hand. He pulled back so he could look into your eyes as he licked his middle finger clean. “Better go let them in, Princess. Sounds like they’re about break the door down.”

Indeed, the pounding at the door had grown increasingly incessant and the door itself was starting to rattle on the hinges.

Eddie gave you a gentle nudge towards the door before heading towards the bedroom to change into more comfortable pants.

You fixed your clothes again as you went to let your friends in, willing the flush in your cheeks to go down within the next few seconds.

There was no doubt in your mind that this would be a long night just as Eddie predicted. If you had to guess, you’d say there would be many Constitution rolls in store for each of you.

[sneakersnacks]

Come Back Safe to Me

Authors Note: Hello everyone! First post on here. There isn't any use on Y/N or anything like that. I'm not sure where this story will eventually go, I am kind of writing this because I also have scenarios pop up into my head and I always feel better writing them down.

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

tw: GSW's, Guns, Military scenarios

“Sir I know for a fact she shouldn't lead this mission on her own.” Ghost said with a stern voice, almost slamming his hands on Price's desk.

“Ghost, she's more than capable of doing this, why are you set on her not leaving base without you?” Price retorted back, lifting up his eyebrow with the end of the sentence. 

They didn't know this, but you were on the other side of the door, listening to their conversation. Did Ghost not trust you? Did he not believe in your skills as a soldier? Just last week you were the only to actually hit high marks in training, that should be enough proof. You have been on countless missions with him, all of them successful. He was always by my side but the one time he isn't he doesn't believe in my capabilities? Pushing those thoughts to the side you lightly tap on the door. 

“Come in.” Price says

You enter and meet Ghost's gaze before you look at Captain Price, “Sorry to intrude Cap, I just wanted to check in before I set off with the team.” you say, trying not to notice the stare Ghost is giving you, if looks could kill, you would be dead by now.

“Ah yes, Crow, everything is all set in order, I wish you luck on your mission. Come back safe.” he says.

“Of course Sir.” You give a light nod and exit the tiny office. You close the door behind you and start walking down the hallway. You hear Price's door open and slam shut with heavy footsteps coming after you.  You know its Ghost, just the looming presence in the hallway gives you chills up your spine. 

“Crow.” he says from behind you.

You stop and turn on your heel, looking up at him with a stone look, “What.” is all you say, you can tell that this response catches him by surprise. “Are you here to tell me that I am not fit to lead this mission?” 

You see his eyes narrow and a glint of guilt flashes in his eyes, “Crow…” his voice is soft when he says your callsign.

“If you didn't believe in my skills as a leader or even just a soldier in general you should've told me from the beginning, don't give me false hope and make me doubt my own skills.” You say, your index finger jabbing at his chest. He just looks down at you, he didn't mean to make you angry, you weren't supposed to hear him say those things. He wanted you to be safe, how was he supposed to make sure you were safe if he wasn't there with you? He needed to protect you, he knew you could easily protect yourself but he just needed to be there with you. He couldn't lose you. He let you continue to be angry and rant at him but couldn't take it anymore and grabbed your hand before you could poke him in the chest for the second time. 

“Crow, please, believe me when I say you are capable of doing anything.” he squeezes your hand in his, his rough tactical glove almost scratching your skin, it didn’t bother you though. “I… just can't lose you.” he says, his voice soft. 

It's now your turn to be caught off guard, you look up directly into his eyes and he looks down at you like he was looking into your soul, “Ghost I-” you start to say before you hear a pair of footsteps come around the corner, Ghost quickly drops your hand and you get sad as you feel the warmth leave you.

“Lieutenant Crow.” Someone says from down the hallway, you turn around even though every cell in your body just wants to stay close to Ghost.

“Yes Alea?” 

“Pol and Gate are ready and heli will be good to go in about five minutes.” she states, you can see hee glance at Ghost but then give you her full attention. 

“Of course, thank you Alea, I will be right behind you.” You say, giving her a nod, she returns it and walks away from Ghost and yourself. You turn to face Ghost again, “I will be fine, I promise.” 

“Don't make promises you can't keep” his voice was low and not above a whisper. You reach up and touch his cheek, the fabric from his mask blocks you from touching his skin but even so the warmth he gives off radiates through the mask. He leans into your hand, closing his eyes. 

“Ghost, I don't make the promise if I can't keep the promise. It's a simple mission, in and out. You know how these things are.” You say, he slowly opens his eyes to meet yours and grabs your hand pressed on his face. 

“Aye, but I won't be there with you. I trust you, I just have never been worried about someone like this before, this is new to me.” He confesses and your heart flutters. “Come back safe to me.” is all he says and releases your hand, he turns around and walks down the hallway away from you. 

You are left there standing in the hallway, your mind racing and trying to process everything that just happened. You always had secret feelings for Ghost, that was apparent but you always told yourself to keep things very professional with him. He was part of the task force with you and emotions didn't need to get involved. Ghost always had his usual cold stone demeanor, you assumed there was nothing there on his end. He gave you the same amount of affection as he did with Soap, nothing but playful banter here and there but nothing came before missions. Even on our off time he would hang in the background when the task force would hang out. 

You start walking from the building and onto the heli, you see Pol, Alea, and Gate all strapped in ready to go. You grab your pack from the side and put it by your feet and buckle in. 

“Is everyone ready?” You say to your team. They all nod and give a sturdy ‘Yes Ma’am’. The door shuts and you feel the heli lift off the ground. “The mission should be rather simple,” you say trying to be loud enough so they can hear you, “We collect intel, possibly get a few things then we leave. In and out.” 

“In and out,” Pol says with a smile on his face. You give a smile back and try not to think about being above the ground, no matter how many times your were in planes or helicopters you hated the feeling of not being on solid ground.

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting an eerie silver glow over the desolate terrain as the small team of operatives moved stealthily towards their objective. The base was a mere twelve clicks away from their drop-off point, nestled deep within enemy territory. The mission was simple: gather critical intel without alerting the hostiles to their presence. You led the way, your sharp eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of danger. Beside you, Sergeant Alea maintained radio silence, her fingers deftly adjusting the settings on her portable communications device.

Private Pol and Gate, both seasoned soldiers, followed closely behind, their movements synchronized with military precision. The crunch of gravel beneath their boots seemed to echo louder in the silence, each step a reminder of the perilous nature of their mission.

The team reached a vantage point overlooking the enemy base, the cold wind ruffling their uniforms as they huddled together, peering through their night-vision goggles. In the distance, the enemy base sprawled like a hive of activity, unaware of the impending threat.

Your voice was barely a whisper as you addressed the team. "Stay sharp, everyone. We need those visuals on the base, but we can't afford to be seen."

Sergeant Alea nodded in acknowledgement, her fingers dancing over the communication device once more, relaying critical information back to their command center. The intel they gathered could change the course of the entire operation.

Minutes turned into hours as they continued their surveillance, your eyes never wavering from the base. The tension in the air was palpable, and even the wind seemed to hold its breath. Pol and Gate pushed a bit forward, while you and Alea stayed a bit behind. Your point of vision being able to see almost everything. Alea scribbles down times and notes when trucks would pull in and out of the compound.

"Lieutenant." Pol said over the comms, "We see a group of five coming out of the base, seems to be a patrol group, they are coming a little bit too close for comfort." he states.

Your heart raced as you scanned the approaching patrol through your night-vision goggles. They were closing in fast, and it was clear that their cover was about to be compromised. Without hesitation, you barked out orders. "Pol, Gate, fall back and find cover. Alea, keep relaying that information. I'll distract them and draw their attention away."

Pol and Gate retreated silently, fading into the darkness as Alea continued her vital work.

You stepped out from your hiding spot, your heart pounding in your chest. The patrol drew nearer, their flashlights cutting through the night. With practiced ease, you aimed your silenced pistol and took a deep breath, ready to create a diversion.

But just as you were about to squeeze the trigger, a sudden burst of gunfire erupted from the shadows. Bullets whizzed past you, and you felt a searing pain in your side. You stumbled backward, instinctively returning fire as best you could.

The patrol was caught off guard, their attention diverted from your team members. In the chaos, you managed to take down one of the enemy soldiers, but the pain in your side was overwhelming.

As the firefight raged on, you felt yourself growing weaker. It was then that you saw Pol, his eyes wide with fear and determination, rushing towards you. With all the strength you could muster, you tried to shout a warning, but it was too late.

A bullet meant for you found its mark, and you crumpled to the ground. Through the haze of pain and darkness, you could see Pol, his face contorted with grief, kneeling by your side. He grabs the back of your collar and drags you away from the flying bullets.

"Lieutenant I am so sorry, where did you get hit?" He is panicking right now. You take a deep breath and pull up your shirt that was tucked in. A bullet wound on your right side and another one through your shoulder. Pol saw both bullet wounds and his face paled. That was never a good sign. You here footsteps rushing towards us and Gate appears Pol.

"We have to go now!" He shouts, the both of them pull you up your arms slung over their shoulders. Alea was only a few feet away and you could see her on comms asking for evac.

"Lieutenant Crow has been shot! Get us out of here now, we are making our way to evac point!" She shouts into the mouth piece. "Crow you better fucking stay with us." She tells you as the three of you meet her.

Your eyes felt heavy and your body was numb from the adrenaline. Your feet barely kept you up and it seemed as if Pol and Gate were just dragging you at this point. Certain thoughts flashed through your head but one of them just kept coming up, "Come back safe to me". Fuck, why did this have to happen. You thought of Ghosts calm and collected eyes just turning into panic as he got the news that you were hurt. Probably dead. You were losing a lot of blood, you could feel it soak into your shirt.

Your squad made it back to the evac point, barley, but you made it. Pol lifted you into the heli and set you down on the floor of it. Alea got right to work and started to examine your wounds. Two GSW's both a clean enter and exit. You grabbed Alea's arm and for a second she stopped what she was doing to look at you, "If I dont make it-" you start out but she cuts you off, "Crow you are going to make it, knock that bullshit off" she snaps at you. continuing to bandage you up as best as she could.

"You gotta tell Pol this isn't his fault," you start "but also, you have to let Ghost know I'm sorry." She doesn't look at you at first but you yank her arm so she meets your eyes. She sees the seriousness in them and nods her head.

Your eyes are getting heavier and heavier by the minute. You take a shaky breath in and exhale as calmly as you can. The last thing you remember is Ghosts words in your head, "Come back safe to me."

*Authors Note: There will most likely be a part two lol ill just have to see where I want take this, if you read this I really hope you enjoyed it :)*

[protosymphonette]

apparently I shouldn’t ask you your fallout 4 opinions? Now I want to ask you your fallout 4 opinions :)

i warned you about my fo4 opinions bro. i told you dog.

most of these are like. technical and story related. bee tee dubs

ok under cut because i have a lot to say and most of it is TOXIC because i LOVE TO COMPLAIN

listen. listen. i have a lot of feelings about this game. most of them aren't very good. so lets start with the ones that are mostly positive.

i think a thing fo4 did really well was the companions. a lot of their arcs are more realized than the other fo games (despite the fact that 2 of them don't even have full names, but i digress), they have more unique voicelines... and being able to romance them doesn't hurt either. honestly, half the reason i found myself willing to continue playing the game was getting all of the companion questlines and such. i also like how connected it was to fo3 character (like with li, maccready, maxson) and storywise (the institute, railroad, synths), made me feel Smart for getting the references. the way weapons... work? i guess is the best term? is also pretty decent- though the more advanced display hurts my eyes whenever i use energy weapons (which is always because they are the only guns worth using in any fo game)

i'll probably add more positives as i go, but- now time for parts of the game that i don't particularly enjoy... i don't like how many gameplay changes they made. like with the perks and special system (why would they change it. why remove skills?? why start all special stats at 1? the removal of skills really gets me; like, they were a more tangible and easier way to recognize what, well, SKILLS you had and just removing them entirely makes no sense) and the pip boy ui (WHY did they make holotapes go into general "misc" as opposed to having their own "notes" section??? you use holotapes like 40x more often in this game why. what the hell todd) the weapons and armor system irks me too, somewhat- the fact that once you progress to a point in the game in which you are like, unable to see if an armor/weapon is better than what you have because of all of the goddamn superfluous adjectival modifiers. i wish single piece armors were more practical- the mix-and-match nature of the new armor system is... i don't mean to be like, petty, but its Fugly. i know it's the wasteland but, DAMN, my guy's fit is trash! there are too many modifiers to armor, too, i feel. like, ballistic v energy v whatever damage resistance... all i want to know is if this thing is better than this thing, and you're tellin me it is SOMETIMES but not all the times? my iddy biddy pea brain came here to have FUN and SHOOT not to think about strategy in armor. tldr for my technical qualms with this game: they shouldn't have changed allat. it was great and fun as was.

storywise i don't... to put it succinctly, i don't like this game's story. it's boring to me. i don't necessarily care about my son, or my spouse, with the 5 minutes i spent with them during the tutorial and the "hey honey!" holotape you gave me is doing nothing to change that in any way. also, while on the subject of spouses, the game tries SO HARD to railroad (heh heh) you into being the male sole survivor- he NARRATES the damn intro ffs (and replacing the legend ron perlman is a crime which can never be forgiven) AND is a veteran (combat+power armor experience) and nora... is a lawyer? a job in which it would make no sense for her to already have power armor training or experience with weapons. (oatus the power armor ui is fucking ugly and gross too and i've literally never used it outside its introduction with the minutemen because of this) i think the fact that i don't give 2 shits about my son is why the institute is soooooo dry to me. like, why am i supposed to side with these assholes? because my son who is an old man is, what, their dad? or something? (also shaun being the gen 3 synths "father" and you being able to romance a whole slew of gen 3 synths is... weird, plainly put) also the factions are just boring to me. like no flavor at all. i don't want to bring up Beautiful Golden Child New Vegas (but i do) but like... obsidian did the "choose a faction" thing a whole helluva lot better. like i don't really give a shit at all about any of the stakes or factions within fo4 like even a little bit all i care about is my Guys who are my Friends and we Kill People Together.

also this is like very petty and opiniony but i don't like how good the graphics are i feel like fallout is a game franchise meant to look a little shitty

tldr; fallout 4 would be such a good game if it was a good game

[pencilpat]

Sanders Sides: College AU - Part 5

Character sheets | Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“Janus. We are going to get coffee, and you are going to tell me about how Roman’s brother is, and you are going to tell me why you have never told me a single true fact about yourself, and then if you would like, I can never see you again aside from this single class."

Logan finally has a talk with Janus. Virgil is noticing some changes to Patton's behavior that are a bit familiar. Janus realizes a heart can't stay closed forever with such insistent knockers on its door.

4,062 words

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Janus is practically dragging herself on her crutches as she tries to make it around the school. Over-the-counter pain killers aren’t cutting it today, and she grumbles under her breath as the crowds begin dispersing quicker, the bell toll nearing. Already wobbling and stumbling, it takes one bit of slippery floor for her foot to come out from under her. Janus falls with a yelp, her backpack only serving to crush her further down. She groans and curses, laying limply on the floor from pain, trying to breathe.

She can’t seem to will her arms to be strong enough to lift herself up, even when trying to pull herself up with her crutches. She lets out a loud sigh in the empty hallway, resting her forehead on the cool floor despite how gross it is. The bell sounds anyway, uncaring of her plight. Footsteps fill the hall after a few long moments, and she grits her teeth, prepared for embarrassment. The footsteps round the corner, and stop. Great.

“Janus?”

Oh. Even better. Someone that knows her. Wonderful. She turns her head and sees Logan, hanging back slightly in the hall.

“The floor is not a very sanitary place to rest,” she says, straight-faced.

“10 minutes later than usual?” Janus drones in a mimic of Lo’s voice. Logan’s face falls into a frown, but not an angry or upset one, it’s something worse; pity. Janus turns her face away again, burning with embarrassment. Logan comes over to her, crouching beside her.

“I was preoccupied this morning,” Lo says in a mumble. “Do you need help getting up?”

Janus so badly wants to turn down the help out of spite, but desperate times and all. “If you could. Thanks.”

Logan hums, and then hefts her up into a sitting position by her shoulders. She grabs her crutches, and sets them up in a standing position. “Are you able to pull yourself up using them?” Janus nods dully, gripping the handles of the crutches and, slowly, with Logan’s help, pulling herself up and back into the support of her mobility aids. She’s panting slightly from weakness.

Logan looks at her, that same sympathetic frown tilting her lips downward. “Will you be okay?” she offers, touching Janus’s shoulder in an oddly warm gesture given how Janus usually knows her. Janus nods, lips pressed together thinly, her brow slightly sweaty. “We will be in less trouble if we are both late. The professor likes me. I will explain your fall. You just sit down.”

And she does, crutching silently through the lecture room and into her usual seat under the watchful gaze of the entire class while Logan pauses up front, murmuring to the paused professor. The professor nods at her, glancing at Janus, and with an even quieter muttering he sends Logan to her seat as well. Logan sits with a sigh, massaging her temples. Janus has her head rested on the table, trying to take the chance to rest. Logan reaches over and takes Janus’s notebook. “I will copy notes for you. Please, just rest.”

Janus can’t meet Logan’s eyes, staring at the dark wood of the desk instead; the genuine pity in her eyes is more physically painful than her physical pain. Nodding, she silently concedes to it. She hides her face in her arms, as though they can hide every ugly, broken part of her if she buries deep enough into her yellow sweater. She breathes out slowly, trying to relax, even if just for a bit before the day full of classes.

She ends up half asleep, and Logan’s tapping of her arm wakes her up to the students clearing out of the room. Logan is standing, half ready to go, looking down at her with that same oddly soft look. “I take it the couchmate has been a… nuisance?”

Janus laughs half-heartedly. “No, it’s actually… actually the opposite. I’ve been more of a nuisance I suppose.” Logan notices how far off and exhausted her voice sounds, frown deepening.

“Janus, do you have any breaks throughout the day?”

Janus blinks a bit dopily, still tired and very much in pain. “Why?”

“If our schedules align at any point, I would like to get coffee with you.”

“Are you hitting on me?” Janus asks flatly.

“What? No. I just want to have coffee together.”

“Why?” she practically hisses, her instincts to shove the closeness away rising up in her throat like bile.

“Because you need someone to talk to-“

“I don’t want to talk to you, Logan. Isn’t getting to chat with me for three minutes before class enough for you? Do you really need to be blessed by my presence that much?” Any hint of playfulness is out of her voice, Janus trying not to clench her teeth around the words.

“Your couchmate is my partner’s brother,” Logan interjects soundly, her face determined. “And his brother would like an update on him.”

Janus just sits there, heat boiling under her skin. Of course. The only hint of a friend she thought might be there was somehow tied to those idiots. Of course, because she’s the most cosmically unlucky bitch out there. She doesn’t respond, picking up her bag and setting herself in her crutches. She doesn’t respond, making her way towards the door as fast as she can.

Suddenly, Logan is in front of her, grabbing at her elbows in the crutches and holding her still. Janus blanches, freezing up and looking up into Logan’s face. They have angers on their faces to match each other, in a battle of who will wither first.

“Coffee. When?”

“I don’t want-“

“Janus. We are going to get coffee, and you are going to tell me about how Roman’s brother is, and you are going to tell me why you have never told me a single true fact about yourself, and then if you would like, I can never see you again aside from this single class. I- I enjoy your presence. You are intelligent, and witty, and very bright, even when you’re literally on the ground. Janus, you are very strong, but I still think you’re holding too much.” Logan’s face softens, and Janus breaks the eye contact, staring hard at the floor. “Stop doing this – whatever this is – alone. Take allies where you can, for fuck’s sake.”

Janus hides her shock at the genuine, panicked tone in Logan’s voice, an actual show of emotion. She gnaws on her lip hard, trying to avoid talking for as long as possible. “Fine,” she breathes out shakily. “Fine. I have a free period at 2:30.”

“I have some time around then,” Logan says, seeming to purposefully soften her voice as though she’s afraid she’s scared Janus. Her hands recede from her crutches, and Logan steps to the side, her outfit and hair slightly more frazzled than usual. “Please go to your next class, and I’ll see you then. Our grade comparisons are still very promising.” Logan begins to walk away, then stops. “I think there is more in common between us than you think.

Janus sighs out a held breath, and exits as swiftly as a girl on crutches can manage.

--

Virgil is buzzing with nervous excitement as Patton drives them down the brief stretch of highway, twirling his hoodie’s drawstrings. He keeps glancing around with a giant smile, eyes constantly shifting.

“We are going to be in so much trouble,” he snickers. Patton shushes him, also giggling.

“It’ll be fine, Virge, I texted the other two that we weren’t meeting up with them for coffee to let them have more time together, and they completely bought it. It’s technically true!”

Virgil laughs. “Where did this spontaneity come from, bluebell?”

“I don’t know, violet!” Patton taps their fingers on the steering wheel, grinning. They pull the car off on an exit, and nearly immediately into the parking lot of a Denny’s. They both exit the car and clasp each other’s hands once they’re at the front, grinning at each other.

“Logan is going to be so mad if she finds out,” Virgil says, a hint of genuine nervousness in his voice. “I don’t know how I feel, lying to her…”

Patton turns to face him, pouting. “Aw, but Virgil, we haven’t had time for a date in so long!” They swing their hands back and forth together softly. “It’s only a few hours of skipped classes, and I got Tammy to copy my teaching classes notes and Rico to handle your engineering notes until we get back – it should be okay.”

Virgil sighs, nodding and sending them a smile. “Okay. Let’s go.”

The host calls a greeting to them as they enter, telling them to sit anywhere. They shuffle into a booth on the same side as each other, Virgil laying his head down on Patton’s shoulder. “This is really risky.”

“How come?”

“I- I don’t know, I just feel like we’ll end up in trouble somehow. You know I hate lying. How I feel about it.”

Patton frowns, turning to him and lifting his chin gently to look at them. “It’s okay, I promise. It’s only a little one just so Lo doesn’t have another panic attack like when Roman skipped that one day last year. I don’t wanna make her any more stressed,” Patton pouts slightly. Virgil looks vaguely uncomfortable for a moment, blinking quickly.

“I trust you,” he mutters, before laying back on their shoulder. Patton rests their head on his, giggling quietly at the feeling of their hair – currently in its natural puffy state and simply held at their shoulders in a ponytail holder and pins - squishing against him.

A waiter comes over to them, and Patton touches Virgil’s hand. “Buy anything you want, okay? I asked Rom to borrow his card.” They turn to the waitress. “What’s the biggest thing of pancakes you can do, ma’am?”

The waitress chuckles. “Only two per the order, but you can get multiple orders.”

“Okay! Three orders of the banana pancake breakfast, please and thank you.”

“And you?”

Virgil startles, rapidly flipping through the menu again while stuttering. “Uh- Cheese fries, and- and the quesadilla. Please.” The waitress nods and smiles at him, walking off after writing it down. Virgil sinks down in his seat, then hides against Patton’s shoulder. “I haaaaate ordering things.”

“Aw, honey…” Patton grabs his cheeks and peppers kisses over his forehead until he’s bright red and batting at them while laughing. Patton grins at him. “I’m really happy we get to go here again. Even if we had to… force in the time for it. I missed just having fun with you.”

Virgil is mostly hiding behind his bangs, but Patton still sees his smile. “Missed it with you too, Pat.”

They end up not even chatting much, just hanging off each other in their seat, occasionally sharing light kisses. When the food comes, Patton thanks the waitress profusely for all six of the pancakes. She lays out multiple syrups, then sets out Virgil’s meal as well.

They both begin digging in immediately, Patton eating fast per usual. “Dang, slow down, you need to let yourself enjoy it,” Virgil comments through bites of his own meal. Patton pauses, dabbing their mouth with a napkin and laughing nervously.

“Sorry!”

“No, it’s okay.” Virgil leans to their ear. “You know I know why you do it – I just want you to focus on fun stuff instead of all that right now. Enjoy it, okay?” Patton gives him a syrupy kiss on the cheek, to which he proclaims, “Gross!” They both dissolve into laughter, and then turn back to their meals.

As Virgil eats, he tries to ignore the nauseous worm of guilt in his stomach that’s not making way for the meal at all. He really, really hates lying, even a harmless one like this. The hand on his chin plus the sugary reassurances were… triggering, he realizes faintly. He leans his chin on one of his palms as he chews, beginning to poke at his food. He hasn’t thought about Janus in a long time, and he prefers it that way. Finding out Remus was staying with her resulted in probably one of the worst anxiety attacks he’s had in a while, even if he never had much faith in Remus in the first place. Though the fear of what lies she could be feeding him right this moment begins making him even more nauseous. She’s a manipulative snake of a person that Virgil had hoped would never be anywhere close to him again, never close enough to lie to him again-

“Virge, you’re panting,” Patton’s voice speaks, drawing him back to the present.

“Huh? Oh, s-sorry. I got a little lost.”

Patton holds his shaking hand softly. “Do your breathing exercises, honey.”

Virgil nods, and complies, breathing in and out in pattern until the world feels slightly clearer. He settles himself, turning his face to lay on their shoulder. “Let’s- let’s not lie like this again. Even if it is really nice to spend time with you. Can you promise?”

Patton nods rapidly. “Of course- I’m really sorry, bug. I didn’t know it would get you that bad.” They lift his face in both hands and rub their foreheads together. “I promise. No more lies if we can help it.”

Virgil calms down a lot at the much more Patton-like show of attention, sighing. He goes back to eating his meal, and from there on it’s only idle chatter as Virgil’s anxiety has worn him out a bit. They pay with Roman’s card and head to the car, heading back into town quickly at Virgil’s request. Virgil curls up at the window, his hood pulled up over his hair as he rests there, hoping that promises can still mean something, even if he has everlasting fears about them.

--

Janus drags herself to the on-campus coffee shop, annoyingly having to fumble with the door in a way that won’t make her fall over. She immediately spots Logan in a corner, who also spots her and begins making her way over.

“Want me to order you anything?”

“I can order on my own-“

“Janus, please. Allow me to assist you, just for today. You are sweating and you look sick with the pain you are in.” Logan looks at her, eyebrows tilted into a genuine, caring look. “Please.”

Janus sighs. Logan really doesn’t leave much choice to others with the way of authority she speaks. “Okay, fine. I just want chai, I’ll go sit across from where you were.”

She nearly collapses in the chair she chooses, leaning her crutches against the side of said chair and setting her forehead in her hand, exhausted. Logan approaches maybe ten minutes later with the tea and a black coffee for herself. Janus doesn’t thank her as she takes it, but it doesn’t feel like Logan was expecting one in the first place.

“So,” she begins. “To begin with, how is Roman’s twin? I feel that is the easiest subject to delve into.”

“He’s fine,” Janus says with a sigh. “He sleeps, he eats, he cooks, he makes stupid jokes. All healthy behavior of a Remus in the wild.”

“As far as I know he is just a human being,” Logan says, seeming to be trying to show genuine reassurance. Janus just kind of silently stares at her, not even sure what to say to that. Logan continues anyways. “If possible, try to ask him to text his brother back. Roman has been extremely worried these past few days.

“Shocking. Roman is a prissy asshole, I don’t care what he has to say or what he has to say to Remus. They need distance for once in their lives.”

“Could you at least provide updates through me?”

Janus waves her hand dismissively, but nods in agreement.

“Then, on to the next question. Janus, why do I not know anything about you? I can… tend to misunderstand relationships, but I did think of us as at least somewhat friends. Is that not true?”

“No, Logan- No, we technically are friends. A little bit. I wouldn’t talk to you and sit beside you every weekday if I didn’t like you, I typically am not that tolerant of annoying people though it may shock you.”

“I enjoy speaking to you as well, as I said you’re very bright and intelligent. You did not explain why you don’t talk about yourself.”

“I don’t enjoy having others that know things about me.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s bothersome.”

“How?”

Janus sighs, a bit frazzled. “Because when people know information about you, they use it against you and or talk about it behind your back. Such as to a group of old buddies that would be very keen on all the hot goss about Janus and her sick little impoverished life.”

Logans sits back slightly, sipping her coffee. She remains silent. Janus does too, until the silence is making her uncomfortable.

“I’m chronically ill. And poor as dirt. And maybe, just maybe, barely able to afford college in the first place. I’ve been supporting myself and doing everything myself since I was 16, I’m used to it.”

“But it’s killing you.”

“Not if I have a say in it.”

“You no longer ‘have a say,’ your body is breaking down further from the amount of stress you are putting yourself under.”

“Figure that out yourself, doctor?”

Logan stares at her hard. “The majority of chronic illnesses are exacerbated by stress. I don’t need a medical license to know that.” Janus stays silent, examining her gloved fingertips. “For whatever it might be worth, I know the others would not use points like those against you in any way,” Logan attempts to reassure.

Janus scoffs. “I don’t know if you know them that well then, Logan.”

“Did Remus?”

Janus hesitates bitterly. “Well, no. But he was always different. He was… always an outcast too, I guess. So, he isn’t a preppy rich kid or a ‘mommy’s favorite traitor.’ Remus gets it in ways the others never did or will.”

“Still, Roman would like to hear about his brother in one way or another. My intention isn’t to mend a long dead friendship or force any of you to see each other. Given how Virgil reacted at just the mention of your name, I don’t think it is salvageable.”

“Oh, how he reacted. Of course, because he’s the one with the right to feel betrayed and hurt by that shit.” Janus tries not to seethe through her teeth so obviously, but it’s difficult. Knowing that Virgil still somehow thinks he’s in the right is threatening to make her bite off someone’s head. He really will just think he’s better than everyone on earth until the day he dies, huh.

Logan sets her already empty mug on the table between them, looking at her with open curiosity. “None of you are ever very specific over what happened in high school. I do not understand the need to act like nothing will have changed about you as people in three or four years.”

“Losing any ounce of faith in a friend tends to include the faith in them to better as a person.”

“Fascinating,” Logan muses. Janus shoots her a weird look, and she stumbles to correct herself. “A-apologies, the intricacies of human relationships are interesting to me. I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s fine, Logan.”

“You may call me ‘Lo’ if you would like,” she says after a pause.

“What, why? What did I do to earn cutesy nickname privileges, I just insulted your friends and was mean to you on purpose.”

Logan shrugs, a slight smile on her lips. “I don’t know. Call me crazy, but I don’t sway particularly to either side, nor do I trust the two groups to asses each other’s character accurately. I still like you, and I see no reason to discontinue the friendship we have.”

Janus hides her face in her tea, taking a long sip to try putting her thoughts together. Logan doesn’t really strike her as even capable of lying, so there’s no reason to think she would be manipulative – it seems like she really just wants updates on Remus and to keep talking to her in the mornings. It’s weird for her, if she’s honest with herself. Logan’s form of genuineness, just like her way of speech, leaves no room to be questioned or argued with. She puts the cup down, licking her lips nervously.

“Alright, Logan. You get your way, hope you’re pleased. I’ll let you know how Remus is every now and then.”

“And will we remain companions?”

“If you talk as little as possible about those two then we can manage.” Janus sighs, glancing at the time on her phone. “My break is almost over,” she lies, technically still having 20 minutes, but too emotionally exhausted to talk about things like this anymore. “See you in class, I suppose.”

Logan stands as well, watching as Janus scrambles her way into her crutches. “I will see you in class. Hopefully we can get coffee every now and then. Or do other things you are interested in, if you prefer. I could see you aren’t a coffee person.”

Janus nods tersely, ready to just get through the rest of the day, somehow. “I really have to go, but we can chat about it tomorrow morning, ‘kay?”

“Alright. Take more pain killers before the school day ends. Bye.”

“…Bye, Lo.”

Janus makes it through the day, and through the drive home, thanks to some miracle. Remus seems to immediately notice how exhausted she looks, but he hesitates to get up and help her, just rocking and staring at her from the sofa bed as she leans her crutches on the wall and sets away her books. She meets his gaze, leaning on the island to support herself. “Hello,” she offers.

“Hi, Jan! You look like absolute shit; do you need anything?”

Janus gestures vaguely. “I don’t know, Remus. I don’t know what I need.”

“How does eggs and some pastries I got at the place next to my work sound, to start with?” He has a wide, slightly wild smile, and she faintly wishes she could match his energy.

“Just to start? What, do you have plans?”

“Ehh maybe something or other! I did bring a PS4 with me, y’know, and even if you’re too hurting to play with me, you can watch while you eat! I’ll cook for you, go sit! Sit!” Remus scuttles around her and into the kitchen, clanging through her pans and starting up a quick batch of eggs. She sits on the bed, and sees a half-eaten box of doughnuts and other goodies open beside where Remus had been sitting. She rolls her eyes somewhat affectionately, picking up a lemon iced cake. Ridiculous that Remus seemingly cared about her enough to remember her favorite types of pastries after three years.

She listens to him making random noises at himself in the kitchen as though beatboxing badly, and tries to stamp out that wretched warm feeling in her chest. How dare I do this to myself again, she chides herself. How dare my heart get close to more idiots who will only break it.

An hour or so later, with a full stomach and a bit of laughter at how shit at games Remus is, she hates herself a bit less for it. She laughs at him getting headshot by some other player, instinctively hiding her face against his shoulder to mask that she's having fun. Remus’s hands fully pause on the controls, laughing turning a bit breathy as he feels himself flushing. She stays leaned against him even after their laughter has died off, and they fall into silence, rested against each other.

“You’re such an idiot, Carmona. Alas, I think you’re one I’ll be stuck with for life.”

“Y’know, I think I’d be okay with being your idiot my whole life,” Remus chuckles to himself. Janus’s face stays hidden, her hair covering any hint of expression. They both sit still for a long moment before Janus rises.

“Let’s bet on it. If you can win even one round of this game, just one, then I might not kick your ass to the curb tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, you are so on!”

[cafeinthemoon]

Ruins - Part XIII

Chapter 13

Wordcount 3,2k

Title Part XIII

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Pairing Hades x reader

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 💛

Warnings: none

Tagging @holdyourwine @lilacshouko (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: So… It's been while lol In this one, Loki strikes again, this time bringing up valid questions, which will result in an important lesson about the nature of gods and what waits for reader in the future, but he cannot do this without falling into the uncanny valley at least for a moment XD

I wasn't satisfied with the beginning of ths chapter, so I did what I usually do in these cases and avoided working on it for several days, but finally I got through the discomfort it was causing me and finished the Festivity arc! Now, the way is free for the last - and most important - phase of the story, that is, the progress of their dating and the conclusion of it <3

Apart from the ones prepared by Loki, dinner followed without any surprises at the gods’ table. That is, if you didn’t count your presence there as a surprise too.

The gods were curious about the girl who solved the enigma proposed by the King of Hellheim in a matter of days, so that during the intervals between one meal and the next, they would take the opportunity to make you questions. You did your best to answer everything but, not being used to receive such amount of attention, you just ended up replying with “I do not know” and “I am not sure” to things that you would be perfectly able of explain if you were alone with Hades; during those moments, you glanced at him, quiet by your side, and by his assuring look, you could tell that he thought the same: it was his way to tell that you would certainly discuss this later, so you could stop worrying.

You told the gods about your notes and studies, your doubts and your clues, and how you connected the dots at that critical point when you only had a few minutes before meeting Hades again. Everyone was listening, some with undisguised curiosity, others with the solemnity of elder people who had a hard time processing an incredible conquer from a young person, but for everyone you made it clear that you would never manage to solve it if it wasn’t for the episode with the girls.

– This is what I meant when I said that destiny helped me on the hardest parts, Hades-sama – you explained looking directly at him – I could have continued my seek, but no discoveries would happen if it wasn’t for this specific event.

Hades, on his part, wasn’t entirely convinced of that, jut as he wasn’t before, preferring to point out your wisdom as the true force behind the results.

– Maybe yes, maybe not – he commented with a smile and a goblet of wine in hand – What I am sure is that the answers would have found a way to you in that moment or any other.

You cheeks warmed up to that; maybe you would never get used to his flattering observations about your intelligence. Of course, you didn’t try to argue with him in front of his family and the other deities, but again, you would have time to talk later.

In the end, instead of the disaster you were expecting, dinner with the gods was quite good, and following Poseidon-sama’s statement, you finally recognized the privilege you were granted with.

***

You were at a balcony, enjoying the night with an empty goblet in hands, wondering if you should enter and get more alcohol for yourself or leave the cup on a tray. Hades walked with you there, but stated that he had matters to discuss with his pairs and went back inside, but not before asking you to wait for him. You agreed and he left you with a kiss on the back of your hand.

It’s been a few minutes since you were there alone. While you waited, you observed Valhalla’s night from the high balcony, and were impressed to see that it was as full of life as its day: the sky had its own constellations, resembling the ones of Midgard, but bigger and brighter, as if they were closer to the land, and their light shone over the fields of flowers with the same intensity as the Moon, and the sounds of the little predators’ steps, the whistling of the night birds and the insects came to you as a solemn tune.

One of those insects seemed to find its way to your side. At first, you found it strange that it looked bigger than a common bug, but when it landed on the balcony and a glow surrounded its body, you understood why.

The creature grew in size and gave place to the eccentric figure of Loki.

– A pretty lady all by herself, exposed to the dangers of the night – he commented, his crossed legs dangling on the inner side of the balcony – What a cruelty…

Your grip around the goblet increased before you could control your hands.

– Dangers? What do you mean, Loki-sama?

The god of Mischief put a hand on his ear, as to concentrate on the nightly noises, and looked behind him, at the dark fields.

– Are you hearing these sounds, dear? How do you think the beasts that produce them look like?

You looked around, not understanding why he was speaking like that about creatures which nature had nothing to do with beasts, but not wanting to extend such senseless conversation either.

– To me, they look like owls.

He frowned, not hiding his disappointment with your boring response.

– Anyways… Why did Hades-sama leave you here alone? I thought he would spend the rest of the party with you.

Since Hades didn’t give you any details about the matters he had to solve, you just said that he had important things to discuss and would soon get back to you.

– I see… – he replied; and, returning to the subject of the beasts, – You know, I like the fact that you are a brave girl, not easily intimidated by creatures which aspect you can only suppose. I really like it.

You put the goblet upon the balcony and straightened up your posture.

– It seems that you’re trying to say something serious, Loki-sama. May I ask what is it?

Now, it was clear that Loki wanted that conversation to last long, as much as his intention of saying things he wouldn’t dare in front of Hades was evident in his response to your inquiry: he opened a grin that made the corners of his mouth literally reach his ears, so that the human aspect of his appearance vanished to give place to something else, unknown and inconceivable for your mind; alongside the glimmer in his lilac eyes, it awakened in you anything but the deepest strangeness and aversion.

– You have a preference for things that are straightforward, don’t you? – Loki’s smile faded, his lips turning back to their normal size as he spoke – If this is the case, let me ask you: did Hades-sama tell you about the kind of place he’s planning to take you to?

You had your hand leaning on the parapet, beside the goblet; it shook when you heard that question, touching the object and almost dropping it to the darkness below.

– Hades-sama isn’t planning to take me anywhere – you had the nerve to say – More than this, I am not planning to go anywhere.

Any other god would have considered your response a defiance, but not Loki, who was clearly trying to provoke you. What angered you was the fact that he was succeeding in this: speaking like that about Hades and his intentions not only sounded disrespectful, a personal offense.

– Hm-hm – he moved his head from one side to the other – My intuition says that your stay here will not last long, and only a fool wouldn’t realize it has everything to do with the King of Hellheim and his plans concerning you. If that’s not true, then why he would want to show you to us as the cute prize you are?

Cute prize? What does he mean?

You hated the way he was putting things, but you had to recognize that the creepy young man beside you was one of the most clever individuals you’ve met at Valhalla, so trying to hide things from him was useless. You just let him continue.

– So, as I was saying… Do you know what kind of place he wants to take you to? – he inclined toward you, speaking lower as to share a gossip – Do you know what Hellheim really is? What it looks like? What kind of beings live there?

You swallowed. Of course you didn’t have the answers, but you wouldn’t behave like an ignorant, thus giving him what he wanted, so you kept quiet.

Loki didn’t give up.

– Yes, you have no ways to know. But there are many stories among your people, right? So, let me tell you that they are mostly true… and, honestly, just half of the reality…

He leaned on his side over the parapet, before you, grabbing your goblet and making it full again, but not with wine: you looked inside it and saw a black mist raising from it, spreading around to form a sort of portal or mirror, through which you started seeing disturbing things. There was a land that resembled the ruins of your dreams, but it wasn’t empty: you spotted fires falling from the skies like a storm, burning everything they touched, and shadows of monstrous shapes running to all directions, but there was no shelter, no escape from the destruction.

Loki’s voice sounded distant, merging with the vision.

– This is the place he rules over… The place he wants to take you to... – he was saying – Do you think you could share it with him, young lady?

If those words had the intention of scare you, then, you could say it worked – but only partly. More than fear for what could be waiting for you in the world of the ruins, they inflated you with wrath: that illusion, those attempts of sowing seeds of doubt in your heart were so low, so outrageous that you couldn’t take them seriously.

You gathered all the strength you had and stepped back to free yourself from the spell, and the next thing Loki saw was the goblet flying away from his hand after the slap you gave it. The sound of metal colliding with the wall behind, then clanging on the marble floor overcame everything around, and the silence that followed was as heavy as the emotions you tried to suppress to avoid committing a heresy.

For a moment, none of you spoke. You just stood there, facing the malicious eyes of the Nordic god, hoping for a less troubled outcome for that situation: you were aware that he could end your life right there after what you did, but it was hard to tell if he was really going to do it or if he would prefer to continue with his teasing.

Since he didn’t say anything, you took the initiative in this.

– I accepted your tricks at the table for what they were, but this is different, Loki-sama. You are crossing a line here.

Something ignited inside his eyes when he heard that, and you really thought he was preparing a punishment, but instead of this he broke his silence with a sudden, insane laughter. He sat back on his previous spot on the parapet and took a moment to recover his breath.

– So… you already reached this point in your love, girl? – he panted – Guess it would be impossible to change your mind even if I’ve put real effort in it…

You felt your face burning at those words. He was just trying to see how far he could go before you snapped... And you fell so easily in his trap, acting like the infatuated young woman he thought you to be.

Shame on me.

Just when you started to wonder what Hades would think if he saw that scene, a change in the environment was sensed by both of you, and you saw Loki leaving the parapet and standing on his feet with an agitated expression, as someone who was just caught in the middle of a suspicious activity. You were a bit surprised to notice that he was almost a head taller than you, something hard to realize since he was always standing in weird positions.

– If she was goddess, you would certainly be cursed by now, Loki.

You startled when you recognized the King of Hellheim’s voice.

You looked at the same direction as Loki and saw Hades approaching your spot with unworried steps. He glanced at the goblet on the floor and you thought of grabbing it back and taking it to the elves, but gave up when his eyes met yours, as if telling you to stay where you were and let him things with him from now on.

He stopped by your side and you felt your body relaxing with the proximity. Loki, on the other hand, took a timid step back, not sure of what was going to happen.

– If that’s the case, I’m glad she’s just human – he commented with a tense smile.

Hades sighed.

– You will never learn, won’t you?

– I was just playing with her, Hades-sama – Loki replied with a tone that reminded you of an annoyed kid whose jokes are never understood – Why does everyone always take things so seriously here?

Hades didn’t give any verbal response to that, only staring at the other man with the seriousness you saw in Odin, who you supposed to be the only person able to keep the god of Mischief under control.

Loki sustained the glare for a moment, but soon gave up and rolled his eyes.

– Okay, I apologize – and shrugging as he walked away, – I’ll give you some privacy now… I’ll be near the table if you need me…

When Loki was finally out of sight, you sighed in relief – and a bit of embarrassment.

– You saw what I did, right, my Lord? – you glanced at the goblet – I’m so sorry for this. It was childish of me to give in to such provocations, but when he started to speak those things about you, my blood just boiled…

Despite being aware of what just happened, Hades seemed to be in a really good mood, something that confused and impressed you: how could he not be offended with that?

– That’s okay, little one – he brushed your hair behind your ear – It was fun to observe his face at that moment. I assure you he wasn’t expecting that reaction from you, so that he brought the punishment over himself for his trickery.

You looked away, in a frail attempt of hiding your smile.

– And, honestly, I couldn’t care less about it – Hades continued – The worst thing Loki did was to anticipate a conversation I was planning to have with you later, and I wanted it to be as light as possible. But, after what he did, we can no longer expect this.

Your heart ached with that. Was he really going to apologize for not telling you what his domain was like, what kind of place he wanted to take you in? After all the things he showed about himself, his gentleness, his wisdom and good sense of humor? And after behaving with such respect and honor towards you?

No, I can’t accept it. That’s not fair.

– Please, Hades-sama, don’t do this to yourself – you took his hands on yours – If you’re going to say that Loki was right and that you should already have spoken to me about Hellheim, please, don’t. I would never listen to him and commit such disrespect towards you – and, tightening your grip around his hands, – I trust you, my Lord. If you don’t think the time for me to learn about this has come, then I can wait.

Hades observed you with the sad smile of an older individual who appreciated the freshness and the good will of someone younger, but whose heart felt sorry for the things that awaited the young one in life.

– I know about your good disposition, and this only makes my appreciation for you grow stronger – he replied – Still, I have to say that Loki wasn’t entirely wrong in the questions he brought up.

You frowned.

– Really?

– Let me guess… – he rolled his eyes – He showed you desolated landscapes, darkness, horrendous creatures and despair, right?

– Well… – you swallowed.

Hades touched your chin, making you look directly at him.

– Don’t worry. You’re not going to offend me by giving a positive answer, y/n. There are many concepts and stories among your people about the place to where the dead are sent, and they are all similar in their basic aspects – he shrugged – There’s no use in romanticizing it. Whether you are familiar with the old traditions or not, you know what the word hell means.

You sighed.

– Of course, I know. Still, he had no right to speak like that!

Instead of trying to make you forget that, Hades laughed, as if you just told him the smartest – or the funniest – thing he heard in his life.

– What’s so funny, my Lord? – you asked, chuckling.

His response was to pull you to him, caressing your face with the back of his hand.

– You’re really offended by all of this, aren’t you? But let me ask you something. Do you really think this is the first time someone speaks negatively about my domains?

You bit your lip, but gave him no reply. The answer was too obvious.

– If I had my feelings hurt every time someone speaks something about Hellheim and my work there, I would’ve given up on it a long time ago – he kissed your forehead – So, please, don’t overwork yourself being offended for me.

– I’m sorry – you whispered.

– That’s okay. Loki is probably rethinking his attitudes by now. He will leave you alone for a while after that.

You smiled. Hades offered his hand to lead you back to the party, but you hesitated.

– What’s wrong?

– I just remembered something – you replied – When you arrived, you said that if I was a goddess, Loki would be cursed after what I did. What did you mean with this, Hades-sama?

That was his time to smile.

– Ah, this is another conversation we would have sooner or later, but now I was the one who anticipated it – and, returning to your side, – Unlike what happens to mortal individuals, whose words can only be used to cast spells or make prophecies under the influence of external, superior forces, gods can do this on their own. This ability doesn’t work on mortals only: we can use it in each other, with more or less efficacy depending on the circumstances. It can represent an immense advantage for us, but if not used the right way, it can lead to many problems, most of them irreparable. In the past, when gods and humans shared a closer bond, some of us acted in the heat of emotions, creating rules and decrees and casting spells with no regard for the ones who would have to live under them, their descendants and their future, and the effects of these decisions can be sensed until these days. Of course, this is just a summary of the situation, and you will need a long time to assimilate everything that’s involved, but I think that’s enough for you to understand that Loki would face some complications if you weren’t human.

You covered your mouth, only then realizing the impact of the episode with the tricksy god. This was what waited for you in the future, if you definitely say yes to Hades; would you be able to deal with this?

You would have stayed there for the rest of the night deliberating, if the King of the Underworld didn’t bring you back to reality and reminded you that, for now, it was time to enjoy the night.

– We will have time to think of this, little one – he offered his hand for the second time – It shouldn’t kill our diversion tonight.

You finally accepted his invitation and, with a smile, went back to the warm and lively interior of the building.

Part XIV

[wanted-to-be-nosey]

Invisible strings (3/4)

Part 1 Part 2

AO3 link

Going to pretend its not months after the summer bingo ended...

Prompt fill: Submissive Peter wordcount ~1,800 warnings - mentions of nsfw, mutual pining, butt plug mention

“Did you talk to him?” Ned asked as soon as they found themselves a quiet corner.

“Well… not exactly,” Peter mumbled.

“You chickened out again, didn’t you?” MJ asked, glaring at him witheringly.

“Like you’d do any better,” Peter defended. “It’s not as easy as you make it seem. It always starts well, but then I look into his eyes and I just… anyway, I did talk to him. Kinda.”

“Did you use our suggestion?” At Peter’s nod, MJ continued. “I thought you were going to use that as a starting point?”

“I was going to. Or I meant to. But I was kinda overwhelmed at the time and he was so sweet, and hot, and he probably only went along with it cause its my birthday and he’s selfless like that–”

“Wait,” Ned interrupted, grabbing Peter’s upper arms. “You mean you actually did it? You didn’t just talk about it?!”

“Yeah…”

“Oh my God. So right now?” Ned exclaimed, voice rising in excitement. “You have Iron Man’s cum inside you, right now? Oh my God.”

Peter clamped his hand over Ned’s mouth before he could get any louder. Glancing over his shoulder he was glad to note no one had turned to look at the three of them packed into a quiet corner of his party. It had been hard to find privacy in such a large crowd. Not helped by the fact that he’d kept unintentionally drifting towards Tony throughout the party. The heavy, full feeling of the plug not allowing him to forget about his dom. Or well, his acting dom since the man didn’t want it to be a permanent thing – despite what his friends might say.

“Way to go, Parker,” MJ smirked. “I was starting to think you didn’t have it in you. Literally.”

Rolling his eyes, he huffed a laugh before slowly removing his hand from Ned’s face at his best friend’s silent request.

“You two are the worst,” he mumbled, wiping his hand on his trousers.

“Whatever,” Ned huffed. “So… if you’ve done it, why didn’t you talk to him?”

“Because you didn’t see his face when I asked. He looked like I was asking him to destroy his suits or something. I could tell it wasn’t exactly an easy decision for him. I guess, I mean, I don’t think he actually wants to be with me.”

“I don’t think he would’ve been helping you this long if he didn’t want to, surely?” Ned asked.

“I’m not sure...” Peter sighed. “Outside of our scenes and stuff he acts like nothing has changed. Like I’m still just one of the guys. If anything, he’s grown more distant when we’re in the lab or out in the field. He’s just doing his job to keep me safe.”

“Who’s keeping you safe?” a new voice asked, causing Peter to jump in surprise – unintentionally clenching around the plug in his ass forcing him to supress a moan.

He couldn’t, however, contain a groan as Johnny Storm of all people casually draped an arm around Peter’s shoulders. Schmoozing like the older hero was known to do. He could be as infuriating as Deadpool when he wanted to be.

“None of your business, Johnny,” Peter dismissed.

“C'mon don’t be like that, subby Spidey.”

“I told you to stop calling me that, asshole.”

Peter shoved the dom’s arm off him, not that it did much other than cause Johnny to start laughing as he rearranged himself by his side, a hand stroking his cheek before dropping it at Peter’s continued glare.

“Sorry. I just can’t help myself when you blush so pretty when I say it.”

“Ugh, you two should get a room,” MJ drawled.

“No, we should definitely not,” Peter rebutted.

“Oh? Don’t think about it or anything, Pete. You wound my ego.”

“Good.”

“It’s okay though, I won’t take it personally. I was hoping I’d get to meet your mysterious new dom tonight. Where are you hiding them?”

“I already told you, I don’t have a dom,” Peter hissed.

It was a conversation he’d had countless times with Johnny before. It had been hard to ignore when there had been such a difference in his behaviour seemingly overnight. It made sense that Johnny had been curious. He could understand his initial curiosity. What he couldn’t understand was the fact he wouldn’t just leave it alone.

“See, you say that. But we both know you’ve been seeing someone. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Johnny said, looking genuinely happy for Peter. “I’m glad you found someone, I was worried when you had to take your leave of absence.”

“Shut up. I was away for less than a week.”

“And your absence was sorely missed,” Johnny replied solemnly.

“You two are ridiculous,” MJ groaned.

“Uh...Peter?” Ned whispered, slapping Peter’s arm to get his attention. “Tony Stark is coming this way.”

Peter barely had a chance to process what Ned had said before Tony joined their makeshift circle, having seemingly appeared out of thin air, slotting himself seamlessly between Peter and Ned, his eyes focussing on Johnny.

“We pack out the whole room with tables, chairs, food and games and you choose the one corner with nothing going on.” Tony shifted his attention to the circle at large. “Is it that bad?”

“No, Mr. Stark. Iron Man, sir. The party is amazing,” Ned stammered. Even after all this time he still turned into a blushing fan boy around the man. “We just–"

Ned was cut off when MJ jammed her elbow into his side. Tony eyed them curiously, but turned a quizzical eye to Peter.

“Is it too much?”

“N-no,” Peter reassured. “The party is great, we just wanted to chat, y'know?”

“Sure.” Tony nodded, attention drawn back to Johnny by Peter’s side. “Storm, didn’t expect you to show.”

“Y'know me, Stark. Never one to miss a party, especially one for my favourite sub.” Johnny punctuated his comment with a wink in Peter’s direction.

Tony tensed his jaw while Peter smacked Johnny’s arm. Trust Johnny to make fun of him right in front of the man he was trying to impress.

“I wasn’t aware you two knew each other,” Tony answered, his press smile plastered on his face.

“Of course.” Johnny stepped forward to wrap his arm once again around Peter, much to Peter’s visible annoyance. “We’re patrol buddies.”

Shrugging off the unwanted arm, Peter stepped closer to Tony.

“We’re acquaintances at best,” Peter muttered.

“Again, with the insults,” Johnny whined, hands dramatically clasping over his heart. “My poor heart can’t take much more, sweetheart.”

“Ignore him,” Peter told Tony. “Are you okay? Did you need me for something?”

Tony eyed him carefully for a moment, before seeming to gather himself.

“I just wanted to give you a ten minute warning for your cake. Didn’t want you missing it cause you were running to the little boys room,” Tony smirked, although his eyes remained tense.

Peter’s blush was not helped by the sniggering of his friends behind him. Before he could compose himself enough for a response Tony was walking away.

“I guess we should go rejoin the party,” Ned suggested once he’d finished laughing.

“Suppose so,” Peter muttered, eyes scanning the crowd behind him for where Tony had run off to.

“Is no one going to mention how weird that was?” Johnny asked, raising his eyebrows.

“What was weird?” Peter asked in response, turning to face him in confusion.

“That whole interaction,” Johnny said, gesturing to the space Tony had previously filled. “It was almost like…Oh my God.”

Johnny stopped talking to grab both of Peter’s shoulders, examining him like it was the first time seeing him.

“That’s the dom you’ve been seeing?” Peter tried to sputter a response, but Johnny just continued talking. “Why didn’t you tell me you were dating Tony Stark? Jeez, man. No wonder he was so touchy when I was talking.”

“We’re not dating,” Peter mumbled.

“Yet,” Ned unhelpfully added. “We’re still working on that part.”

“Ned!”

“You can’t deny it, loser.” MJ turned her attention to Johnny. “You saw it too then?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Stark look jealous before, but hell, there’s a first time for everything.”

“He’s not jealous. He’s just helping me out,” Peter defended. “He’s a friend.”

“Please,” MJ scoffed. “He’s went so far beyond a friend, its not even in the same ballpark anymore.”

“So why haven’t you told him how you feel?” Johnny asked.

“How do you know I’ve not?”

“Because if you had, you’d already be dating.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Pretty sure he’s right, Peter.” Ned at least looked bashful under Peter’s returning glare. “Our last plan didn’t work, so we’re working on another one.”

“What was the last one?”

“Well, Peter asked Mr. Stark to fu–“

“Ned!” Peter exclaimed, once again shoving a hand over his mouth. “We are not telling Johnny about that.”

“Ooh, now I’m really curious. Was it kinky? I bet it was something kinky.”

“All you need to know, is that it didn’t work. I tried to talk to him, he agreed looking extremely conflicted and that was that. He wouldn’t be encouraging me to find someone else if he actually wanted me.”

“Oh, yes. Cause that doesn’t sound like something a completely self-sacrificial idiot would do if he thought it would keep the other person happy.” MJ deadpanned.

“MJ–“

“I’ve got an idea,” Johnny interrupted. “D’you trust me?”

Peter couldn’t help his smirk as he responded, “About as far as I can throw you.”

“I would say ouch, but last week you sent me flying almost an entire block, so I’ll take it. After the cake, just follow my lead. I promise it will help.”

“I’m not sure.”

“I’d bet on it! Hell, if it doesn’t work, I swear I’ll never call you subby spidey again in my life.”

Johnny stood with one hand over his heart and his other hand holding up three fingers, a picture-perfect boy scout if not for the mischief sparkling in his eyes.

“And if it does somehow miraculously work?”

“Then this year, during Spider-Man’s regular Halloween patrol, you’ll dress up as the Human Torch.”

Chuckling at the imagery, he looked to his friends who were both nodding and telling him to give it a go.

He had to agree that he wanted to at least give it a try. He didn’t have high hopes, but any hope at all was surely better than none. The plug inside him was a constant reminder of everything he could potentially have if their plan worked. A hope he desperately didn’t want to let go off.

“Fine,” he relented. “But you have to tell us the plan first.”

[transmasc-wizard]

im thinking about getting into the magnus archives, so i was wondering if you could give like. idk what i should expect from it/a synopsis? /not forced

i am ltierally ALWAYS willing to talk about the magnus archiges

SO

the magnus archives is a fiction horror podcast written by jonny sims, about the Archivist, jonathan sims. no they are not supposed to be the same person, jonny is just shit at character naming. there's like 4 michaels alone (michael shelley / michael distortion / mikaele / mike). btw if i say "jonny" i am refering to the writer, if i say jon/jonathan i am refering to the character

so, Jon works for the Magnus Institute, London, an institution dedicated to documenting and investigating paranormal experiences. he used to work in the research department, but after the passing of the former Head Archivist (Gertrude), he found himself suddenly promoted to the archivist job. Now, he reads people's written "statements" (supernatural) so they have audio versions.

each episode contains one statement + jon's thoughts on it at the end. in this way, it is an anthology horror series; each episode has a sort of "monster of the week" that is its own disconnected and fully-fledged horror story. BUT!!! BUT!!! it is,,, connected. there is a Grander Plot. as it goes on, connections start to be made between the statements, with several developing plotlines and b-plots, and supernatural happenings even start to go on in the institute itself. it is REALLY thought out; my relisten has me finding tiny connected details in almost every episode.

TMA has to be listened to in order, from episode 1-200; i say that because i was told it doesn't and almost started with ep 187 (every day i mentally thank the person who told me NO NO START WITH #1 AND GO IN ORDER. every day). additionally, each episode, or "MAG", is about 20 minutes long, and TMA is split into five 40-episode seasons.

some various stuff: it's queer! jon is ace & bi and its not a big deal bc, you know, he's busy with The Horrors. several other characters are queer as well. speaking of characters, they're great; you get quite attached to both the main ones (Jon, Martin, Tim, Melanie, etc) and several side ones (Sasha, Gerry, Michael, Helen, etc).

a note: the TMA creators care a lot about being respectful to marginalized groups and when handling careful topics, but they fucked up sometimes. in particular, early "spiral statements" (stories abt lies, confusion, and the human mind) sometimes lean into the "ooh scary hallucinations" thing in season 1. as it goes on, it does get better (changing the focus to things such as "it's horrifying not to be believed about your struggle with mental illness"), but it is worth warning about, imo. (There's about... 2? i can think of? that specifically give me pause.)

a second note: TMA is very much horror, if it wasn't already obvious. It deals with things like cannibalism, insect infestation, heavy isolation, skinning, body horror, police brutality, spiders, paranoia, being watched/spied on/Known, etc. It is also a tragedy. With those two things in mind, please remember to take care of yourself, first and foremost, and take breaks/stop if you need to.

third bonus note: my pfp is gerry keay from tma and im love him <3 that is all

tma is really really really good, surprisingly emotional, full of creative horror and compelling stories, and has some AWESOME themes and storylines centering around monstrocity, what it means to be human, abuse of power, and what you can do in a system that fundamentally just wants to hurt you, and i 100% recommend it if you want to try it out!!

the-magnus-archives.fandom.com/wiki/Content_Warnings <- trigger & content warnings, broken up per episode

THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES #1 - Anglerfish - Horror Fiction Podcast - YouTube <- episode one!

have fun & stay spoooooooky :D