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embrassemoi · 3 years

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Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 29

Pairings: Sirius B, F!Reader, Remus L Warnings: Language, angst, insecurities, blood, darkish thoughts (self-hatred), fighting, violence Author's Note: heavy chap. if you’re having a bad day, take a moment, be kind to yourself and put off reading this until you feel better 💜

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Chapter 29: That Pet You Just Couldn't Keep

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Remus woke up to a bright, white light. He squinted, head lolling to the side of his lumpy pillow. The chair near his bedside was empty, saved from a pitcher of water along with a few potions Madam Pomfrey must’ve left for him, were placed on the stand beside his bed.

Something wasn’t right. Peter or one of the other Marauders were always there waiting for him after his transformations.

Too hot for a blanket in June, he ripped off his covers and noticed the bumpy, large material hiding beneath his nightgown. He licked his lips, letting air whistle down his dry throat while a sharp, burning sensation flooded his abdomen. Remus winched, groaning out while stretching to drink the potions and water. Although, as he brought the glass vials to his lips, he noticed that his arm was littered with scratches and bruises. Curious, he lifted the slit of the gown to see a large wrapping across his lower stomach and bruises in the shape of lopsided circles and rectangles travelling across his body.

Remus felt his face scrunch. Ever since the Marauders had become animaguses, he hardly sustained any injuries aside from the occasional limp or flimsy scratch. There was usually an absence of pain nowadays, not an overload of it.

What caught his attention was the scent of human blood. His senses were always heightened the week leading up to the full moon and the week following, so it was particularly strong. It caused his head to spin like planets performing a celestial dance.

Preoccupied with the scent, Remus didn’t notice someone slipping into the room.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” A fuzzy Peter came into view. He went to sit on the edge of his bed sporting a nervous look.

“Was wondering where you were.” Remus relaxed at his appearance.

“Yeah… Erm — been busy.”

Soon enough, another sharp pain stabbed at his abdomen again. “Fuck — what happened last night?”

Wormtail sucked in sharply as he wiggled in his seat uncomfortably. “I… something terrible happened. Bollocks, Moons — I’m sorry...”

Remus felt his spine prickle with needles. “What?”

“We should wait until Dumbledore or James comes back.”

“Dumbledore?!”

Ghostly pale, Peter was on the verge of fainting. Remus took another deep inhale. This time, he smelt blood, but it was coming off of Peter and a few other foreign scents lingered on him. Was that… Y/N? And… Snape? Remus scanned Peter, noticing the droplet of red on his shoes.

“Pete,” his voice dropped to an icy whisper, “Whose blood is that?”

He remained quiet.

Remus moved to prop himself up on the bed. “What happened?”

As Peter spoke, every word made Remus recline into himself and he was left unsure of how to feel. The overload of information put him into a state of complete shock. His vision faded in and out, suddenly feeling very cold and dizzy compared to the hot weather.

He distantly heard Peter trying to gain his attention but stared blankly at the metal bed frame.

“Say something,” his friend tried, sounding desperate. He didn’t even know how long he’d been quiet for.

Remus worked through the betrayal in nine steps. It helped make sense of his emotions. To categorize them — making it easier to file away.

1. Shock & denial

“No,” he said, barely moving a muscle in his face. “That's impossible! Padfoot would never…”

Peter watched him pitifully. Remus’ eyes blinked rapidly, heart pounding. “I’m sorry.”

2. Process what happened (or try to)

“He… told… Snape?” He asked despite Peter repeating the story multiple times.

“Sirius was mad at Sniv — Snape, and he was provoked by —”

“I didn’t hurt him, did I? I didn’t hurt anyone?”

“He’s fine.”

“Then why won’t you tell me what happened to me? Why was I bleeding?”

He refused to look him in the eyes and Remus felt terror ebb it's way through his skin. “Answer me!”

“As I said, L/N and Snape got into a row… she heard Sirius tell him and she went to save him…”

“Don’t you dare lie to me.”

Wormtail took a deep breath. “You… nicked her a bit and James’ antler broke off in you because… he was trying to get you off of her…”

Remus was rooted in place. What Peter just said was unreal. His stomach twisted painfully. He blinked. “Y/N’s hurt? I hurt her?”

“Yes — no! That was Snape —” “Is she here? Did I bite her?”

“You didn’t and yeah but —” “Move out of my way.” He pushed himself up wobbly.

“You lot a lot of blood, sit —”

“Get out of my way!” He threatened. Remus pushed Peter to the side, clambered to his feet. Remus gripped the bed tightly and felt a few seams rip open and blood began to faintly seep through his white bandages.

He staggered around, ripping back the curtains until he saw Y/N. Limping up to her bed, Remus almost burst into tears when he saw her. She looked so tiny, curled up and engulfed in blankets and pillows. Her ankle was propped up, head bandage and skin dull.

It felt like Peter had poured a bucket of freezing cold water on him.

He hurt her. Almost got her and Snape killed or infected. Could have hurt Prongs and Wormtail…

He was a fucking monster.

He should be put down.

From how loud he was, running around the wing, Y/N’s eyes fluttered open. She attempted to stretch, groaning out in pain. But then, her eyes flickered up to him and she froze. Her hand shot up protectively to her chest and face as instinctively went for her wand but stopped. Genuine fear flashed through her, making Remus instantly want to cry. It felt like an eternity passed as she gripped her sheets and opened her mouth.

She was going to scream — to take him away — call him a monster — to cry or yell for Madam Pomfrey or —

But Y/N’s body relaxed. A tried smile twisted and gaze dissipated with fear, replaced with nothing but understanding and softness; she even went as far to touch his hand but Remus wrenched it back.

“Ta-da!” She croaked. “I lived.”

Remus didn’t smile, only staring horrified.

“Yeah, that was a hit or miss...” Peter interjected. He stood behind him, ensuring that if he fell, he’d be there to catch Remus. He continued to stare like she grew another set of eyes.

“What?” Her grin deflated. “Am I that irresistible?”

That pulled a breathy laugh from Remus as he shook his head. Why wasn’t she disgusted with him?

“Thank Merlin, you’re both awake.” All their heads turned to James’s floating head before he pulled off the invisibility cloak.

James moved to pull Remus into a large hug, whispering an ‘I’m sorry’ into his ear. He held him for a while before breaking off, going to embrace Y/N who wheezed.

“Ouch.”

“My bad, my bad!” He pulled back and slipped into bed with her. Peter forced Remus to sit on the edge of her bed while he stood.

A million thoughts ran through his head. He wanted to get away, to run — not even be in the same room as her. Remus wanted to think, to make any sense of what happened.

What the fuck happened? He couldn’t even process it.

She remembered everything, right? Surely she wouldn’t be this calm had she.

“Oh, wait — Lupin, are you alright? I swear a deer came at you last night.”

James chuckled out loud, breaking Remus out of his thoughts as he looked at him and Peter. “I guess there’s no point for secrets anymore.”

Y/N looked at them questioningly, her eyes squinting from the bright light before Peter went to close the blinds shut. James got off the bed, smiling widely at Remus and Peter got onto the bed instead.

“Ugh — Pete? James? What —”

A loud gasp ripped from her mouth as she jerked away from James who turned into a very large stag and Peter into a fat brown rat.

Remus could almost cry at how comical her face looked.

James was so large that he had to take a few steps back to prevent his antlers from poking one of their eyes out and Remus noticed that one was gone.

He felt sick again. A hand drifted to his stomach.

“Holy shit! Oh my god!” Y/N went to graze a finger on Peter’s fur before turning to James with shaky hands to touch one of his antlers and patting him on the head. She was speechless as her mouth open several times before forcing out, “You're really Bambi!”

James turned back, taking his glasses off to clean. “I wanted to be a lion — for Gryffindor, y’know.”

“You can’t choose, I wouldn’t be a rat.” Peter grimaced.

“They’re highly intelligent. Nothing to worry about.” James reassured and ruffled his hair.

“When did you guys learn to do this?”

“We’ve been at it for three years now. We finally were able to do it in August before school started.”

She shook her head, staring in awe.

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Dumbledore came to speak to everyone later that day.

Remus had been dreading it once he came into the wing and began speaking to Y/N, a buzzing sound filling his ear. All Remus was left to do was twiddle his thumbs, waiting and completely disoriented.

When he finally approached him, Dumbledore lost his usual twinkle in his eyes. He made sure to close the long vertical blinds and again, the room filled with a low buzzing sound.

“How are you doing?” He asked. Remus, had he been in the right mindset, would have prevented the scoff escaping him. Dumbledore didn’t react but continued. “Miss L/N is recovering well and Mr. Snape didn’t receive any injuries. Just a fright.”

Remus nodded, that was good, but he remained quiet.

“Snape’s been persuaded to act accordingly for the best interest of his fellow pupils and L/N gave her word.”

Remus choked back a laugh. Snape was going to, no matter what, let his secret slip somehow.

“You’re also exempt from the Transfiguration exams, both you and Miss L/N. You’ve both sustained a degree of varying head injuries and you’ll be graded on a cumulative from McGonagall.”

Dumbledore was forcing Remus to the edge as he bit down on his inner cheek. It was useless to listen to him. “Are you expelling me?”

“No. You should not bear any blame.”

“Dumbledore, no offence, but are you mental?” Remus sputtered adding, “I endangered four students last night.”

“Yes but —” “The next time we won’t be so lucky. I’m a monster, sir. I should be.”

The headmaster sighed. “Remus, give yourself a bit of credit. Think highly of yourself.”

Remus gave a dry laugh, almost baffled at how Dumbledore was acting. Did he just gloss over the fact he could have gotten students infected? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself had he. “How can I?”

“Well Y/N seemed to think very highly of you. She made you a very compelling case along with your friends, Potter, Pettigrew and Black.”

“Black’s not my friend,” Remus countered. He didn’t care about how rude he was being.

“Remus —”

“Is he expelled?”

“No.” The answer had Remus wheeling, anger spiking. “He’s not.”

“Why not? If it isn’t my fault, that I’m not to blame then why isn’t he? He told them how to find me.”

“I understand that this is a very difficult situation and rest assured, Sirius will be punished. I can promise you. But expulsion isn’t the answer.”

Remus refused to look at Dumbledore and he must've realized he was getting nowhere with him. He stood but before leaving, he gave a pitiful look.

“I have done terrible deeds, indulged in foolish pranks that I have lived to regret, but each has been a valuable learning experience. It’s a pity that it came to this. Learn in your heart to forgive, Remus. The world is already filled with too much hate.”

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June 16th, 1976

3. Sadness & pain

Remus had been avoiding the Marauder’s dorm. He’d gone as far as begging Madam Pomfrey (who’d taken pity because she knew what happened) to let him stay another two nights before getting kicked out. Remus always healed physically faster and his wounds were already healed by the third day. Pathetically, he’d been sleeping in dingy passageways or the prefects’ bathroom before relocating after being harassed by the ghosts.

Remus had a plan, avoid them; skip classes, get longer prefect duties, never staying in one spot for too long. He wouldn’t know what would happen if Snape saw him. Although, whatever Dumbledore told him, it kept Snape quite so far. But tonight, he got tired of Moaning Myrtle sobbing.

Before curfew, Remus made it a habit of visiting Y/N, who was still stuck in the wing; both out of guilt and because she was his friend, but he couldn't stay for long — seeing her like that made him wallow in guilt.

Similar to him, Lily had visited, along with the other girls, every day. Today, Lily stayed a little longer, bleeding into the time Remus usually dropped by. He watched as Lily whisper into her ear, causing Y/N to laugh and Lily blush madly as she sat snug by her side. Not wanting to ruin their moment, Remus went to leave before they had the chance to see him.

Remus had another pressing matter anyway.

He entered one of the nearest bathrooms to give himself some sort of pep talk and stared at the mirror.

You can do this. A voice echoed in his head.

Typically, memories from the full moon came back to Remus a few days or even weeks later, his brain usually too foggy a couple of hours after and even then, he would never fully remember everything. He vaguely remembered seeing a flash of Snape’s face and Prongs but Y/N’s screams were one of the clearer memories from that night.

“REMUS! PLEASE REMUS! STOP!”

Remus looked to stare at himself in the mirror. He observed the scar on the bridge of his nose, feeling bile rush up his throat at the sight.

He was a freak, littered with scars covering himself.

He was disgusting.

Ugly.

Pathetic.

Dangerous.

A monster!

4. Anger

Sirius Black had always been loyal, so what changed that night?

He needed to leave. It was no good staying here anymore.

Remus was shaking with rage, twinged with hurt. He paced outside of the common room door and had a few options running through him. Either start a huge fight with Sirius or just… ignore it.

Avoidance.

Maybe he could ignore Sirius forever? Impossible, surely. Sirius would get bored, anxious within a couple of weeks — that was too generous — a few days sounded right.

With his mind made up, Remus crept up to his room. He could hear the faint shouts of James and pondered about just sleeping in the common room or prefects’ bathroom. Even if he did have to listen to Moaning Myrtle.

Maybe because his senses were still coming down from its peak or James was just brash, but Remus didn’t even have to press his ear on the door.

“— done ENOUGH! — hear me? You better — why are YOU crying? You bloody — understand? Understand?! You will not talk — him — best friends my —”

The only person he's told he was coming back was Wormtail and it sounded like he told Prongs.

Remus didn’t care to listen anymore as he pushed open the door. Pete was sitting on his bed, eyes wide at Remus’ presence surrounded by unwrapped wrappers. He always tended to eat while stressed.

Sirius was looking down at the floor as James stood in front of him, scolding him like a child. But, his head shot up once he walked through the door. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see his eyes bloodshot, puffy and circles dark. He didn’t dare look at him.

Remus didn’t acknowledge them, instead moving robotically to the bathroom, changing into his holey yet comfortable clothes before scurrying off to bed, swinging his curtains shut before casting a silencing spell around.

He’d plan to adhere to his avoidance strategy. It worked so far.

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June 18th, 1976 | 1:29 am

“Psst… Moony.”

Remus turned over to face him. “What do you want Peter?”

“Just wanted to check up. You okay?”

“What do you think? Please, leave me alone.” And then closed his bed drapes.

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June 19th, 1976 | 11:37 pm

Peter had crept up to his bed again as Remus laid there awake, thoughts swarming him.

“I’m not in the mood. I’m tired.” He moved to turn over and forced his eyes closed.

Peter had been nothing but amazing. Always thinking about him and his needs but what Remus wanted most was to be alone and Peter's pity and worried features did nothing but make Remus feel like shit.

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June 21st, 1976

In life, there are few things that are certain. Getting older, death, taxes… No matter how hard we try, no matter how good our morals are or our intentions, we all will eventually make mistakes. It’s either as small as burning your food or writing the wrong answer down on a test, but you’re also going to fuck up pretty bad and hurt people. Say something — do something you don’t mean and it’ll end up with both sides hurt. If you want forgiveness, there’s multiple solutions to gain that back, but the two words — obvious, there, waving in front of your face — can be the hardest words to say.

“I’m sorry.” Black muttered for the hundredth time that night. His voice was pushing Remus to the edge as he kept his face straight. Dead. Not once taking Sirius’ shitty apology baits. He continued to stare down at his book, reading silently in his dorm. His teeth hurt from how hard he was clenching his jaw.

Remus was right, of course, he was fucking right. Black had grown anxious as he ignored him.

“I’m sorry.”

Remus never really considered himself violent. Sure, he’s gotten into rows that ended with a punch or hex here or there, but Remus didn’t have violent thoughts. If anything, he prided himself on not being a bonehead like Black and Prongs. But, it took every ounce not to beat the shit out of Black right there and then.

Bastard. Scumbag. You mother fucking betrayer.

Remus never liked not being in control. Not having it scared him too much, feeling more animal than man. He did everything to avoid being violent, the wolf was already violent enough and had too much control and Remus refused to let it dictate human him. There was already too much violence, he never wanted to contribute more.

He did everything not to be a monster. But it's like the wolf roared from deep within, scratching and begging to let him pounce.

Remus wasn’t violent — anyone who met him would vouch for that. Fuck, if he saw a spider, he would open a nearby window and release it. But now, he wanted to slam Sirius against a wall and wrap his hands around his neck and squeeze.

You piece of shit. Wanker. Twat. I want you to feel as much pain as I do.

“Moony, please let me explain —”

All the words suddenly blurred before Remus slammed his book shut, causing to become still and quiet.

Sirius trying to explain — excuse his actions — pushed him over the edge. Remus sent a venomous glare at Sirius, waiting for him to talk. His quietness made everyone uneasy.

Selfish bastard.

Any sympathy Remus held for him this past year, along with any logic, evaporated to the point where he felt a rabid thump spread through him. There was a desperation to relieve himself of it — lash out, scream, cry —

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it,” the rest of the Marauders watched the scene, knowing not to get involved. “It was a mistake and —“

“A mistake?”

Sirius perked up at this. That was the only word he’d spoken to him since the incident. “Honest. I did it because —” “Shut the fuck up.” Remus stood, tall and loomed over Sirius. He could almost smell the fear off him.

He had never been so mad before.

“I — I… I,” stutters Remus. But instead of it being out of shyness or nerves, it was out of pure wrath that he wasn’t able to articulate his emotions properly. He took a deep breath in, attempting to regain control over his emotions but failed as he burned with deep, seething hatred. “I am the monster that mothers tell their children to keep them in at night.”

“Moony —”

“Don’t call me that!” His voice boomed so loud that everyone in the room had to take a step back and shrink down. Remus was always so reserved, only ever lashing out in annoyance close to the full moon but nothing more.

“Living up to your name, aren’t you?” There’s a sarcastic, bitter humour lilt to his voice.

Someone so in control of his emotions, someone with an unbreakable exterior, the only glimpses they’d ever seen of Remus losing control was him snapping at someone close to the full moon but would later apologize within mere seconds. But to see him like that… it was an intrusion, something the Marauders hadn’t ever seen or wanted to before.

“Please, just calm down so we can talk.”

Remus paces around the room. “You — y’know I’ve never understood why everyone lets you get around treating others like shit. First, it was Marlene, James, me, Peter, Lily and Y/N — we all let you get away with it. Outburst after outburst, we all sat back because you were going through shit. But I can’t? I’m not allowed to get angry?!”

Sirius wouldn’t look at him.

“Look at me.” Remus kept his voice low throughout the ordeal, only ever raising if Black interjected. “You coward, look at me!”

5. A lot of anger

He couldn’t meet his eyes so he settled to stare at the scar across his nose. It only angered him more as Remus picked Sirius up and pushed him against the wall as he fisted his shirt.

“I’m sorry.”

Sorry is nothing but a word to you. I gave you my most trusted secrets. I confided in you. I was there for you when you needed it. I loved and cared for you like my own brother but I was nothing more than a pet that you discarded when you got bored. You’re only guilty because of the repercussions you’re facing. Your guilt isn’t nearly enough. Bastard. I trusted you. You’re a Marauder. My best friend. I would’ve done anything for you. You fucking ruined it.

“You did this! You did!”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

He laughs, mocking and loud, void of any emotion. “No, you aren’t. You’re never fucking sorry!”

Stupid fucking selfish arsehole.

“For years you’ve told me that you accepted me — cared for me — loved me like your own brother! That what I am — a-a monster — that it didn’t matter!”

“It didn’t mean anything, I promise! It was a shitty, fucked up prank —”

“A prank?! You used me as a weapon! A toy because how could anyone ever love a werewolf?” Remus’ voice was so low. “You’ve never respected me. If you had any, you wouldn’t have — you - wouldn’t....”

Everything came crashing on Remus at once.

6. The realization settles in

And after nine days, Remus Lupin had finally realized what Sirius Black had done. Before, everything he felt had been true but he hadn’t fully realized the gravity of what happened, as silly as it sounds.

Sirius turned his worst fear into a living nightmare.

In the background, one of James’ Quidditch posters, encased in glass exploded, shattering into millions of pieces from the amount of pure magic radiating off Remus. He didn’t even flinch at the sound.

James finally interjected, placing a hand on Remus’ shoulder. “Lay off him… He isn’t worth it.”

Remus eased off Black instantly. “You had no right… no right…” He pointed. Remus turned his face down as he felt tears build up.

“I trusted you,” he whispers. “Every bit.”

Remus stormed out of the dorm, going to sleep in the common room.

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June 22nd, 1976

7. Depression

When Remus finally let himself cry, he didn’t make a move to leave his bed. Even skipping meal times, leaving James or Pete to bring him food.

Everything felt suffocating, a gnawing feeling that made every part of him ache. Remus couldn’t handle anymore pain or emotions from ‘the prank’ as he felt himself slip into a temporary void.

He hugged his pillow tighter and closed his eyes once more.

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June 23rd, 1976 | 11: 37 pm

Remus had gone straight to bed again, effectively shutting up the rest of the dorm. James was ignoring Black, leaving Remus surprised that he hadn’t made a move to defend his actions. Nonetheless, he was appreciative still. Peter had been trying to appease everyone, not taking sides but still must’ve thought Sirius was in the wrong because he hadn’t talked to him much.

He didn’t ask James to choose between him or Black. Remus was never one for ultimatums but even then, it seemed like James picked him. He was beyond furious, seemingly more than Remus at this point who pathetically wallowed in his depression. He wouldn’t spare Black a second glance, wouldn’t talk to him, shut him down if he tried to speak to him. Hell, he’d even gone as far as to make it very clear to the entirety of Hogwarts that they were no longer friends, making sure to not sit with him, ever. Always choosing to sit by Remus.

They chose his side and a part of Remus felt elated to know they had his back.

This left Black alone, looking at them through tearful gazes. Remus had been ignoring all of them and they seemed to be understanding, avoiding crossing the wordless boundary Remus set in stone.

But, both James and Peter had been checking up on him nightly, always there and he could tell they were getting impatient.

When the lights went out, he heard James crept out of bed. Usually, Remus would find some sort of comfort in knowing who was approaching him, but now, it only left him feeling uneasy.

And then he felt the bed dip and James muttered out a spell.

“Hey, Moony.”

Remus didn’t face him. “Prongs?”

“Hey,” there was a loud sigh, “Do you need anything?”

What was he supposed to say? A hug? To talk? He’d much rather use his avoidance strategy, although he realized it left him alone with too many thoughts and nobody to confide in.

“M’good.” He felt James place a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll always be there for you. That’s what Marau - that’s what friends are for, no?”

Remus didn’t answer and felt James move to leave. But before he had the chance to slip out, Remus peeked his head from the drapes, announcing just loud enough for Sirius to hear.

“Thanks for saving all of us, James. You’re a true friend.”

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June 24th, 1976

People had their poisons.

Alcohol can make you forget. It blocks out everything and makes the rest of the world fade away until you can’t remember. People gambled to feel a rush, only to realize they dug themself into irreversible debt. Shopping, food, the high from risky behaviour…

But how we manage our poisons is up to the person.

People love to deny that they have addictions. They deny they’re hooked, they deny that they can’t put it down, they deny that they’re scared or want to stop. People only see what they want to see, believe what they want to believe.

And then the truth becomes muddled with lies that it’s hard to recognize the poisons sitting right in front of us. And all we want is more.

For Remus, his poison, his bright red self-destruction button, was smoking.

Granted, he never was a big smoker, typically only smoking when stressed or bored. But he still did it, filling his lungs with poison. But maybe he was wired like that. Besides, what werewolf lives past thirty? Might as well die revelling in the poison that brought him ease…

Remus conjured a ball of bright fire from his hand; fishing out a pack of cigarettes, slipped it past his lips and lit it. He inhaled, feeling the familiar, comforting feeling before dragging it from his lips, blowing out the thick cloud of smoke that left him wanting more.

He’d been sticking to his avoidance tactic strictly now. The Marauders were hovering over him, worry evident on their faces. A few times, Lily and James both invited him to sit. They never fought anymore, or at least in front of him, and it probably was his doing — a group effort into getting him to talk.

So even Lily knew something was wrong… Snape probably told her…

The door clicked open and Remus didn’t have to turn around to know how it was.

“Leave me alone. I’m not ready to talk.”

“Wasn’t gonna make you.”

He spun around, that wasn’t James or Peter. His face softened.

“Well… I’m not,” Y/N said simply, “But the others are about to.”

Remus groaned at that but Y/N smiled and turned around, ushering him over with a little wave. In one hand, she raised the Marauder’s map. “C’mon, I know a place and that they won’t be able to find.”

Remus was intrigued. He stepped out the butt of the cigarette, flicked it into the trash and followed her. Surely he’d already been there but being with Y/N seemed ten folds better than being around the other Marauders.

He followed wordlessly, passageways flying through his head but she never stopped by them. Instead, she climbed onto a ledge, slipping into an area under a large curtain. He followed, eyes lighting up in awe. He’s definitely never been there before.

“Get comfortable,” she said, flinging him a pillow and lighting a few candles.

They sat opposed to each other in complete silence. Y/N flicked back and forth, watching James and Peter scrabble around the castle looking for him. A few times, they passed by, each time leaving Y/N amused.

Remus tapped his leg anxiously. The question remained: Why wasn’t she disgusted with him? Why was she helping him? Why wasn’t she afraid?

Now alone together, those questions dangled on his tongue.

“Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

She looked up at him, finally putting down the map. “Because you’re Remus.” She said, like it was the most obvious answer. “You’re not scary.”

8. Hold onto doubt

The answer irritated him. Another memory unfolded then and he blurted it out. “Why didn’t you cast any spells at me?”

Her brows rose, “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m dangerous.” His voice was bleak and cold. “Why can't you grasp that?”

She stays quiet for a long time, her head turning to look out the large window. Y/N watched the owls and labyrinth of ancient trees of the forbidden forest and Remus was painfully aware of time slipping by.

“Do you remember that night on the astronomy tower on Halloween? I said that there’s bound to be someone looking at the moon at the same time?”

It takes Remus a moment to remember, but he does. “Yeah. You said that it’s like you’re not alone.”

Y/N turns around to face him. “Exactly. You don’t have to be alone in this.”

He looked away, deliberating. “It’s one thing for me to be alone but then drag you and others down with me.”

“Remus, I’m not going to lie and say I wasn’t scared. I was terrified. I thought that was it.” He gulped. “But I could never be scared of you. The real you - the you right now. I don’t care about what you are. You are more than just a werewolf. I feel safe with you.”

The dark shadows surrounded them as she reiterated herself. “You don’t have to be alone in this.”

He soaks in her words for a while. This time, peering out the window as he breathes in deeply.

Okay. He decided.

“Do you want to know how I got —” he pointed at a scar on his upper forearm. “— this?”

She nodded her head.

“When James turned into his animagus form to show me for the first time, his antlers pierced my skin. I had to lie to Pomfrey and say I fell while playing Quidditch.”

Any invisible barrier between them crashed instantly as she smiled brightly and laughed. So infectious, Remus couldn't help but flash a real grin.

He never realized how beautiful her smile was.

“Oh, and if you ever tell anyone about this place, I’ll skin you.”

“I would never.”

Remus scouted over to her, pressing his back against the cool stone as they sat together in a comfortable stillness. But then she shifted, opening her arms wide. He lent in without hesitation and her arms flung around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace.

He felt salty tears stinging in the corners of his eyes and let himself soak in her warm.

He really needed that.

Over her shoulder, he returned to watch the stars.

9. Acceptance

Remus learned from a young age that it was better to keep people at an arm's length. Get too close, they’ll dig, find out his condition, fear him and run.

He hates to say it, but he’s not surprised that his secret slipped out. He got too comfortable, got too close... It’s just that the Sirius component was surprising.

But maybe it wasn’t surprising. Ever since the beginning of the year, especially since winter break, Sirius had been reckless more and more lately, and he probably should have seen it coming. He was wild as a result of being freed from the confines of his rigid upbringing.

Sirius Black was unpredictable.

Sirius Black was dangerous when it came to secrets.

Sirius Black was one of his best friends.

Sometimes betrayal is so profound that there’s no way to fix what was lost. The damage is done, irreplaceable, unfixable.

If Remus was sure of anything by the end of that week was that,

a) James Potter and Peter Pettigrew were still his best friends,

b) He almost killed Severus Snape and Y/N L/N,

c) Y/N knew his secret and despite everything, continued to talk to him, support him, be there for him — she accepted him,

d) His walls went up a higher, became stronger and insecurities ran deeper,

e) Lastly, Remus Lupin would never, ever forgive Sirius Black for what he did. Never.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

【 Next Chapter 】

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weirdochick56 · 3 years

Text

The Bodyguard 2- Bucky Barnes AU

Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, insults, snark, and sassy!Buckster sexy times (ok, so maybe only slightly sexy)

Disclaimers: I don’t own any MCU plots or Characters mentioned

Word Count: 5, 173 words

Summary: The Reader and Bucky’s hate for eachother is at an all time high; she can’t seem to rid herself of him and he, well he can’t seem to get her to cooperate with him. But as their frustrations grow, a late-night outing might just be what they both need to see other parts of eachother.

A/n: This has been a long time in the making, but I finally felt inspired enough to continue the story. Hope you enjoy it!

~The Bodyguard 1~

***

“You can stop following me now,” you grumble with thorny irritation, rolling your eyes at the tall persistent shadow staying hot on your tail.

It was in vain to ask him to leave, you knew. Agent Brainless was ridiculously adamant about following you around the moment you stepped foot outside of the palace and he was -infuriatingly so- a stubborn man.

How he knew that you were leaving even when you had concocted what you considered a genius plan to evade those infuriatingly pretty grey irises was beyond you.

He sighs at your words, and you can see the annoyance bubbling to the surface of his cold professional exterior, though he tries his hardest to keep a straight face.

“Your highness, I think we both know I won’t do that,” he responds simply. “Now if you would please stop being so stubborn and simply do as I ask and come with me to the car so that this is easier for us both...”

You can tell his patience is wearing thin because, in the past few weeks of having him follow you everywhere you went, you had made it a point to figure out his exact breaking point.

And as you continue making your escape to town like he isn’t even there, you know that so is yours. If there’s anything that can give you that deep burning satisfaction you sought with everything you did, it was pissing Agent Barnes off.

He had patiently asked you to retreat back the way you came so he could “safely” transport you in a castle-owned car, but you refused redundantly because your friend was already waiting for you, but maybe also because you loved the little twitch of his eye every time you refused to listen to his directions.

If you were being completely honest, he really should’ve been asking you to come back to the castle and not go to a club in town at all- as per your father’s orders. But you weren’t fond of said orders and you definitely didn’t want some dark and mysterious shadow following you around during a night of fun with friends.

“No,” is all you say because in the few minutes you’ve spent talking to him you’ve noticed he’s the most infuriated when your responses are curt and nonchalant.

You want to see him snap oh so bad...seeing those steely grays lose their cool? Gold.

“Princess...” he growls in warning, daring you to cut that little thread of control he had left in him with your sharp tongue.

You don’t look back at him even once enjoying the thrill that travels up your spine at his low-timbre words and the way his voice travels straight to your core, tugging at your short black dress lightly.

You wanted to see what he would do should he be pushed over the edge. It was fun.

“I already told you, I’m not listening to you. My friend is already waiting for me. And I’m sorry if you have an issue with- Ahh!” Your words choke back into your throat and morph into a shocked yelp when big rough hands grip your hips, spinning you around and without much of a warning, lifting you with incredible ease.

Before you know it, you’re being carelessly thrown over a broad, strong shoulder.

You let out a small ‘oomph’ when the wind gets knocked out of you and all you see is a firm ass, the blood rushing to your head.

“What the hell do your think you’re doing you absolute buffoon?!” You screech hysterically, wriggling aggressively against his hold on your thighs.

He barely flinches, only wrapping his muscular arm tighter around your legs and adjusting you on his shoulder like it was a mere midnight stroll for him and you weighed no more than what a feather did.

“I’m taking you to the car,” he informs as if it’s obvious, voice full with obnoxious satisfaction.

“Get your filthy hands off me this instant you utter and complete idiot!” You growl, twisting harshly but he doesn’t let go so you start pounding on his firm back with your fists, fighting to free yourself of him. “WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!”

He just laughs at what seems to be your weak attempts to break away. He laughs.

You gasp at the absolute and complete audacity he has of laughing when he’s treating you, the single heir to the Androvian throne, like a sack of potatoes.

“You ass!” You wriggle around some more, tugging at his hands to try to pry them off your legs but all he does is smack them away as if they were mere pesky flies.

“I may be,” he chokes back a small snort but only barely. “But at least I’m the only ass trying to keep your reckless self in check, princess.”

Indignation, humiliation, and utter vexation all burn deep inside you like a thrumming fire ready to ravage everything in its way when it got the chance to escape your body as you slowly fall limp against him.

Resignation comes hand in hand with the deep desire for revenge and you fist your hands in deep ache to somehow exercise it.

He carries you all the way to the garage of cars in the back part of the castle, walks over to a black SUV out of all the expensive cars to choose from, opens it and all but throws you into the back leather seats like you’re not a fucking human, much less the princess of the land he’s currently stepping in.

You land flat on your back in the smooth leather interior of the luxury SUV with a small thud and instantly sit up to glare at him heatedly. “Do you have any idea who I am? Be gentle, you brute!”

Annoyingly enough, he simply ignores you and leans over your body. His heat floods through your bare skin and feels good for a second and you subtly inhale his musky scent as he tugs on the seatbelt, roughly pulling it over you.

You forget about your hatred for him for a split second and that only makes you angrier when it comes back full force.

You fucking idiot, Y/n.

In a last and desperate attempt of defiance, you try to push his hands away to which he responds by firmly pressing you back by your shoulder into your seat and staring you dead in the eye with blazing grey eyes.

The fire that swirls in them is...something. Not necessarily scary, but intimidating and...something else.

Something that makes your skin flush and your nerves throb to life.

You stare right back, tilting your chin up to show him you weren’t backing down or scared of him and his brute force. He got too under your skin and you knew you got under his which only offered you only a limited amount of comfort.

He clenches his jaw as he clicks the seatbelt into place, never looking away from your challenging gaze. As if to stick another dagger into your burning insides. As if to reassert his power here.

Your labored breaths are all that can be heard for miles to come in the calm night air and he leans close for a second, your heaving chests gently brushing.

Not meaning for it to happen, you feel your nipples harden beneath the flimsy fabric of your black party dress and you wonder if you imagine his hands clenching around your shoulder -his fingers digging into your flesh with suppression- or the sly flick of his eyes from your eyes to your lips.

You wonder if you imagine the look of heat that passes over his eyes when your breaths mix the second time seems to stop and an overwhelming emotion washes over you.

But then it’s gone as soon as it came and hatred burns deep in your belly once more. So deep that it hurts and brings painful tears to your eyes, your nose burning so hard you can’t focus through your blurry vision.

You lean in closer, so close your nose is brushing just barely against his and pause for a second. A second of torture for him, a second of uncertainty, a second where his breath catches and his pupils dilate.

Then you speak, voice trembling with overwhelming anger.

“I have never,” you whisper, licking your lips. “Been treated with such disrespect.” You swallow hard, cheeks red with humiliation.

You see a flash of guilt in his eyes but it’s quickly replaced by his usual look of cool professionalism- not even anger anymore. Not even that.

And he leans right back into you, a wave of heat passing over both of you. “Then learn to listen next time. It’s for your safety.”

And just like that he’s drawing back, slamming the passenger door closed and climbing into the driver’s seat- leaving you cold and angry beyond reason.

A moment of tense silence passes before he releases a tiny sigh and breaks it by turning on the ignition.

“Where are we going?”

BUCKY’S POV

I watch her laugh at something one of her friends says from a dark corner of the club and it’s hard not to stare for reasons other than my duty being just that...to look after her.

The club was a luxurious one, with high ceilings, intricate designs and a VIP section where we were immediately escorted to.

Her Highness’s friends, a blonde guy and girl who had nodded at me in polite acknowledgment were already waiting for her there and I assumed that the few seconds when she had stopped her sulking and taken out her phone from her clutch were the seconds she was texting her friends to meet her there instead.

I would never admit it, but I enjoyed watching her cave. It was like taming a wild horse, even if momentarily.

Princess Y/n was a brat, plain and simple. Selfish, childish, and feisty as hell, I had never met anyone as completely and utterly vexing as her and to say these past few weeks had been hell would be an understatement.

If I wasn’t so good at my job, I would’ve lost her already. She threw me for a loop any chance she got, cutting corners and doing everything she could to avoid my protection.

As I stared at her with that pretty ass smile on her annoyingly beautiful face, it’s hard to imagine that that was the same person pushing every single one of my buttons just a few minutes before.

She actually looked relaxed and...nice?

God, she infuriated me in ways I had no idea I could be infuriated, discovered buttons I didn’t know I had and pushed them to the point I had to throw her over my damn shoulder like a sack of flour.

I was a professional, for God’s sake. Had always been one with every single one of the cases I was assigned, so why was she the one to get under my skin?

...And why did I enjoy having her perfectly round ass so close to my face? Why did I keep thinking about the defiance in those stupidly big eyes over and over like I....craved it?

I wondered to myself as I watched her take down a shot by the bar. She glanced at me over her shoulder, still smiling, but it quickly melted away when our gazes clashed and my own mood soured instantly.

I grimaced when she looked away as if I had burnt her with my eyes and quickly pulled my head out of the gutter.

The fact that she was utterly gorgeous didn’t change how annoying she was. Not to mention I was here on a job.

One I fully intended to complete, no matter how fucking difficult the client was.

The night moves on at a slow pace for me. The princess parties and I watch her like a hawk, making sure not to let her get too wild.

So far I had pried off five guys who were trying their luck with her. From what I’d read on her file and the extensive research I’d done online, her face wasn’t really well known.

She was always kept secret and would be until she was crowned queen of Androvia- some weird old belief or something- so not many people knew what she looked like.

Meaning, these guys probably didn’t know who they were trying to get all handsy with on the dance floor and would only assume was some rich daddy’s girl once my towering form appeared and nicely escorted them away.

For the most part nicely, anyway. Some I had to get a little rougher with.

I make sure to keep my eyes glued on her form, ignoring the way she moved her hips in that tiny black dress. It hugged her alluring curves like a glove and I swallowed hard as she grinded on her female friend, head thrown back and a free smile on her face.

“She is...beautiful, isn’t she?”

I calmly turn towards the voice as it hums out from beside me, turning to see the guy she came with. He takes a sip of his drink, smirking as his eyes remain on the way the princess waves her hands in the air to the beat of the song, sensually shaking her hips as if she was one with the sexy R&B song I had no idea the name of.

I clear my throat, remaining stock still in my bodyguard pose. “Sir, I”m only here to protect her Highness. I really don’t-”

“Oh don’t even try to hide it. She’s easily the most beautiful woman in this whole club.”

He takes my silence as confirmation, it seems, because he proceeds to speak on as if I’ve agreed.

“But it’s not just her physical appearance is it? It’s something else. Something...inside,” he whispers.

When I don’t respond, he continues bitterly. “I’m warning you; don’t fall for her. It’ll only bring you a world of pain, trust me.”

I catch the pain in his voice and stiffen. “I would never fall for one of my subjects, sir,” I assure him.

He laughs sourly. “Sure bud. You keep telling yourself that.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I insist, swallowing thickly as she laughs, beautiful smile wide and her laughter too melodious to be coming out of such a wretched little urchin.

“Well,” he coughs suddenly, clapping me in the shoulder. “I think I need another drink. Want one?”

I eye his hand which he slowly pries off and shake my head with a slightly clenched jaw.

“I’m on the job, sir,” I remain calm and professional despite the fact that all I wanted to do was break that hand for putting stupid thoughts in my head.

Because for a second there, as the bright club lights shun down on her, I could see what he talked about when he said there was something inside. In that smile, those eyes, that laugh...

But then she made eye contact with me and the feeling turned bitter so quick it’s a miracle I didn’t get whiplash.

She was a brat. Nothing more.

YOUR POV

Sometime late into the night, you had found myself fairly buzzed. Not enough to fall on your face, but enough that walking- well, stumbling over to Agent Asshole only seemed more and more attractive an action.

He glances at you with those eyes and you can’t help the anger the bubbles within you. “Do you plan on staring me down the entire night?”

“It’s my job,” is all he says.

You scowl fiercely at him. “I hate you,” you seethe.

He raises a dark brow but otherwise keeps that stoic expression on his face. “Do you want to leave, your Highness?”

His neutral tone and complete lack of reaction only angers you more and you shake your head furiously. “No, I don’t want to leave. I want you to leave though.”

He presses his lips firmly together. “I’m sorry-“

“No, you’re not.”

“Huh?” He cocks his side slightly to the side and you lean closer to him, craning your neck to look him in the eye.

“I said; you’re not sorry. If you were sorry, you WOULD LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” You feel your drunken emotions deep in your chest and without much effort, your voice quickly escalates.

He sighs heavily. “Okay, your highness, I think it’s time I take you back to the castle. C’mon,” he waves a hand toward the door.

You laugh at him coldly, shaking your head. “Who do you think you are, ordering me around? Know your place asshole, you are below me- never forget,” you growl snarkily, leaning right into his face.

You feel his breathing quicken against your cheeks the longer you defiantly smirk up at him, his calm eyes darkening.

You realized you enjoyed pushing him to the edge, that you craved this look on his face...

He smirks mockingly down at you, staring you down. “You can come willingly, your highness, or I can throw you over my shoulder like last time.” He leans straight into your ear, whispering hotly. “I’m sure you would rather not go through the embarrassment.”

You swallow thickly, your heart hammering against your chest and you’re not sure it’s from anger anymore. With disgust, you jerk away from him, glaring holes into his head.

“Let’s go.”

“You can go, Agent Obnoxious,” you mumble drunkenly, waving a dismissive hand at him as you stumble into your warm room, practically ripping off your heels.

You throw them somewhere in the corner of the large room, sighing with relief when you feel your bare feet touching the soft carpeted floor.

Your knees shake slightly and buckle and you end up tripping forward.

You land on the ground with a soft grunt and for some reason, laughter bubbles deep in your chest.

“Your Highness!”

A few seconds later, you feel strong warm hands wrapping around your body to heave you up. You place your hands on his strong arms for support and look up at Agent Barnes.

The laughter immediately dies on your lips when you see a beautiful concerned frown of engraved deep in his face. It looks so sincere and his arms are so strong...

Before you know what you’re doing, a small mumble is leaving your lips. “You...” you cut yourself off abruptly when his eyes meet yours.

His hands now rest lightly on your waist, and you’re so close you can smell him. His scent is deep and rich and manly, so unlike the scent of those rich assholes you were forced to mingle with on a daily basis.

And his hands, are strong and resilient. The callouses on them tells you that he’s worked his entire life. Those hands, the ones holding you right now, They’ve probably handled a gun, they’ve probably saved so many lives...

You bite your lip, thinking about the way those hands felt on the skin of your arm and how heavenly it would feel if it traveled all over.

Goosebumps rise on your skin as you crane up your neck to stare up at him.

He stares down at you, and even when your room is dark, the light of the moonlight that filters in from the huge window highlights the heavy tension in his gaze.

You’re both unmoving and you wonder if he enjoys touching you as much as you enjoy his touch.

He inhaled deeply, his eyes flickering to your lips and eyes and then back.

You want to ask him what he’s thinking. You want to tell him to just do it -to just kiss you because you wouldn’t dare push him away- not in this state, not when the alcohol and his scent and eyes were clogging every single sense and reason you had, but you’re afraid to break the spell of whatever this was.

So instead, you wait on abated breath, feeling like you’re both on the verge of something utterly earth-shattering, for him to move.

Finally, he speaks a few seconds later and it’s a quiet murmur. “Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

You ignore the sharp sting of his rejection when you were so clearly begging him to kiss you and step away from his touch as if he’s burnt you.

You turn around so he can’t see the hurt in your eyes. “You can go now Agent Brainless,” you say coldly over your shoulder, but you know it’s a lot softer than the other time.

Another second passes. “Princess..” he whispers.

You ignore his barely audible whisper and angrily begin undressing, tugging at the straps of your dress.

“What in the world do you think you’re doing?” He growls lowly as you begin to pull your dress down to your waist.

With a sarcastic smile, your turn towards him, your top half completely naked aside from your black lacy bra.

His gaze immediately falls on your half-naked chest, but aside from the small flicker in his eyes and gulp he takes, he gives no other indication of shock.

You raise a brow. “Are you going to watch me undress now too, Agent Barnes?” You ask mockingly.

His eyes find yours again and they’re darker than you’ve ever seen them. They send shivers through your whole body and you almost give into the urge to look away, but the anger and frustration within you don’t allow your gaze to waver.

“I’m not leaving until you’re safely in bed,” he husks, clearly trying his best to remain professional and cold as his icy stare bores into your eyes- purposefully looking away from your naked form.

You tilt your head up at him innocently, slowly sauntering closer to him. “Oh? Well in that case, do you mind helping me with the zipper of my dress? It’s stuck.”

You turn your back on him and a smirk blossoms in your face as you hear his breathing strain, your ass slightly brushing against his crotch area.

He blows out a shaky exhale and it blows against your naked back, all hot and angry.

When he makes no move to help you, you look at him over your shoulder. “Well?”

His grave expression doesn’t budge. “I can’t do that,” he says lowly.

But even as he resentfully spits this, he doesn’t budge and his eyes are still tracing over your body, their electric desire leaving goosebumps over wherever they ran over.

You roll your eyes at him. “Then turn around, you idiot.”

He growls, fisting his hands and clenching his jaw tightly but doesn’t try to fight you on it and turns his broad back to you.

You’re intoxicated, so it’s probably because you’re not thinking straight, but as you quickly slip on a silk night gown and stare at his back, you can’t help the deep heavy sadness that sinks into your chest.

Why hadn’t he kissed you just now? You could’ve sworn he wanted to and you sure as hell did...it was there, the moment, the split second when you were willing to risk it all, to overlook any and all boundaries, cross all imposing lines- but you lost it.

Pushing your hair to the side, you convince yourself it was for the best.

“I’m done,” you say softly, climbing into bed.

Agent Barnes nods at you stiffly, turning on his heels to leave as you get under the covers. Blaming this on your intoxication, you suddenly find yourself exclaiming.

“Wait!”

He pauses right before his foot moves outside the doorframe and turns toward you, eyebrows raised. “You need something, Your Highness?”

You stare at him seriously, pressing your head against your pillow. “Don’t...leave, please,” you whisper softly, curling into a ball at the tenderness of your voice.

“I don’t want to be alone,” you admit quietly.

He freezes, staring at you as if he’d never seen you before and you avert your gaze, afraid maybe you let on too much.

“Sorry,” you quickly apologize, but that only flusters you more. “I-I mean not sorry, you asshole. Just- whatever. I’m in bed now, you can go.”

Feeling embarrassed, you quickly flip over and turn your back to him.

Seconds later, you hear the door click close and then nothing. A heavy sigh escapes you and you try to suppress the feeling of disappointment that envelops your whole body.

You didn’t know if it was the drinks or the cold distant dinners you’d been having with your family...but you had never felt more alone. All the clubbing and trying to escape your destiny by trying to pave a life of your own couldn’t fill in that emptiness you couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard you tried.

You didn’t want to feel like that anymore. Not tonight.

So even if it was your bodyguard who you hated with everything in you, you needed someone just to be there. Even if it was just to sit in silence with.

Suddenly, you hear a gentle swish noise and gasp lightly, flipping over. Agent Barnes has thrown his jacket over the chair beside your bed and is loosening his tie and he stares at you. His beautiful gaze sucks you in as you blink up at him in surprise.

He shrugs. “I can’t just....leave you here alone.”

Your chest clenches painfully and warmth travels all over your body like warm gooey honey. The feeling of having someone there for you when you need them most is almost overwhelmingly strong.

“Thank you,” you whisper so quietly, you’re shocked he even hears it.

He tilts his head at you, frowning with that handsome face of his. “For what? It’s my job.”

There he goes detaching himself. With a gentle shrug, you nod and curl into a ball under your covers, trying to covet sleep.

You try this for a few minutes and you’re tired, but you can’t help thinking about Agent Barnes sitting in a hard chair all night. After a while of tossing and turning, you sit up.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you breathe with irritation.

“What? What happened?” he sits up instantly, and though you could tell he was on the verge of dozing off, his sharp senses are impressive as he reaches for the gun on his ankle frantically.

You sigh, hating the way your cheeks grow hot and you look away timidly. “Just get into bed,” you say roughly.

“What?”

You bite your lip, looking at him in the eyes. “I said; get into bed with me. That chair is uncomfortable.”

He laughs lightly. “Princess, I was trained by the world’s best assassins. I was taught to sleep on a cold concrete ground if need be.” He gives the chair a firm pat. “This chair is a luxury for a guy like me.”

You stare at him for a few seconds more, wondering more about his past before lightly shaking your head.

“I don’t care. I still feel bad that I made you sleep here on a chair. Just get in already, will you?” You growl at his stubbornness. “The bed is huge, there’ll be enough space for the both of us, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” you add on, softly.

After a few seconds of intense eye contact, he finally relents with a small sigh. “Fine.”

Hesitantly, he cuffs his sleeves and perches himself on the edge of the bed- all stiff and tight. “Good?” He asks, glancing at you with raised brows.

You frown. “You’re kidding.”

“What?”

“You’re not actually planning to sleep like that are you?” You snort.

“I told you-”

“That you were trained by dangerous assassins, yeah yeah. But you’re still a human and a ridiculous one at that,” you scoff before suddenly smirking. “You’re not afraid of lil old me, are you? I’m tiny- I couldn’t possibly hurt you...too much,” you offer him a faux innocent smile, batting your lashes.

He stares at you, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh trust me, I’ve met girls like you before. You definitely don’t bite.”

You raise a brow amusedly. “Girls like me?”

His sexy smirk widens. “Yeah. You’re all bark but no bite,” he replies vaguely.

Feeling partially indignant and partially curious, you decide to probe him for answers. “Oh yeah?”

He can’t resist your subtle challenge and continue speaking. “You’re always in power, constantly being chased after because you’re beautiful and rich and you act like it’s what you want in a guy, but it isn’t, is it?”

Deeply intrigued by his generally accurate analysis, you can’t help but laugh. “Oh?”

“No.” He stares deeply into your eyes and the smile slips off your lips as he says his next words with the intensity of a thousand suns. “You bark out orders and you take on responsibilities like a boss, but what you really want is a man. Not a pushover boy that’ll listen to your every command and constantly try to please you, fall at your feet...But a man that’ll choke slam you on the bed, that’ll make you his, that’ll torture you with the deepest pits of hellish pleasure until he ruins every other man for you. You want to be controlled, brought over the edge so far you won’t ever be able to go there by yourself and then at the last moment get that taken away from you. You want to be used.”

You openly gape at him but he ignores you and slightly scoots closer, still at a safe distance, but close enough where you can feel his body heat radiating off of him.

“Sleep, Princess,” he whispers. “I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

At first, you’re too shocked to react. Your heart is positively hammering against your ribcage and your cheeks are uncharacteristically red. You were flushed. How had he managed to...’you know what?’ You think. ‘No.’

You breathe in deeply. ‘ I’m not going to think about it anymore.’

Because doing so would mean letting him win. And also, never mind the fact that he’s in your bed right now...

Decidedly, you squeeze your eyes shut, begging sleep to come amidst all your stupid, surely drunken thoughts about your stupid bodyguard and kissing him, or simply straddling him right now...

Despite how much you disliked him, you felt safe and protected, like you could let your guard down. And yet...not enough.

Soon, lulled by the steady beating of his heart and the warmth of his body, you curl into a ball and slowly let your heavy lids close, relaxing completely.

“Oh, and Agent Brainless?” you murmur, on the very verge of sleep.

“Yes, princess?” He looks at you.

You manage to send him one last cold smirk before answering.

“Don’t misinterpret this, right now. I’m merely asking you to do your job.”

And then darkness takes over.

Before fully giving into the softness of the darkness of slumber, though, you think you hear him laugh softly and say something like “wouldn’t dream of it, brat.”

****

They’re honestly growing on me. Should I continue?

ALSO YALL SEE TFATWS???? SEBASTIAN LOOKS SO DARN GOOD PLEASEEEEEE

A special thanks to:

@lilypalmer1987

@jessikared97

@sammykb1994

@mogaruke

@mo-onstarrs

@loveofmychips @juliesland

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky barnes masterlist #james bucky barnes #marvel #avengers #Winter Soldier #winter soldier x reader #Bodyguard!Bucky #bodyguard!bucky x reader #James Buchanan Barnes #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #captain america

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shewastheheart · 3 years

Text

A/N: Absolutely AU.

She thought her nerves would be rioting in her stomach, her heartbeat picking up the closer she drew to the edge of the cliff, the edge of her life. But that's what has finally led her here, isn't it? The lack of feeling?

Her son is gone; the home of her body emptied of his presence, her arms too. There's nothing left, nothing to live for.

She's left her home, her family, her abuser. Ran away with the naive idea that she and her newborn child would have a new life together, a fresh start.

She was a fool. How could she ever believe that a new life was meant for her?

Her eyes sting, but the tears don't come. She thinks she's emptied of those too.

Esme takes another step forward, the wind whispering along her neck, coaxing her forward, the waves calling her to join in their crash against the rocks below.

This life was never meant for her, she knows that now.

The breath shudders past her chapped lips.

This was inevitable.

She's balancing on the true edge now, all she has to do is lean forward. Her bare toes flex in the grass for one last time, her heart accelerating ever so slightly as she finally lets go and falls forward.

One moment she's falling and the next, she is not.

Esme's eyes flutter open, her brow furrowing at the grey sky above, the sound of waves still all around. Something is holding her, a cool embrace carrying her.

"I didn't even feel it," she mumbles, glancing up to see what has her. Only to realize it is a who. "Dr. Cullen?"

She remembers him vividly from her youth, those beautiful golden eyes, the perfectly combed blond hair, the compassion that radiates from his very presence.

She has always struggled with her belief in God, but if this is her escort to the afterlife, she has to say she appreciates His thoughtfulness. Her childhood doctor from a decade ago is as close to angels as she ever came.

But her guardian angel... he doesn't look happy with her at all.

"What were you doing?" he whispers. The clutch of his hands under her knees, at her shoulder, where he's carrying her, tightens. "Why would you... what were you thinking?"

Suddenly, she is struck by the idea that maybe she is not yet dead after all.

"Did you save me?" Esme hisses, eyes tearing from his gaze to look around them. They're standing on a cluster of rocks amidst the ocean, beneath the cliff. Where she was supposed to land. "How did you... why?"

She looks back at him, torn between the urge to sob and smack him.

"Why?" he questions incredulously. "Ms. Platt-"

"You remember me?" she cuts in, shaking her head and shifting in his grasp.

He quickly sets her on her own two feet. An involuntary shiver wracks her bones as her bare toes touch the frigid surface of the rock, the chilled spray of the waves licking at her calves.

"Of course, I remember you, I - you were my patient."

"Ten years ago," she argues, gripping his waist when her knees threaten to give out as the leftover adrenaline floods through her. "Dr. Cullen, I-" The tears do come now. What has he done? How could this have happened? "You can't, this isn't - please, god, please" she chokes out. "Let me die."

She bows her head, letting it come into contact with his chest. The idea of continuing on, of living with it, with everything... she can't.

"Shh, Esme, please," he whispers and she realizes she's sobbing, ugly and painfully into the sweater against her forehead. "I couldn't. I couldn't. I'm so sorry."

His hand gently touches the back of her head, skimming deft fingers through her tangled hair. Her body threatens to shudder at the touch, jerk away from it, but... it's the first time in so long that someone has treated her with such care, such gentleness. With something that promises he won't hurt her.

Carlisle didn't think about the next move, what to do after he saved her.

She cries herself into silence, her face red and her eyes swollen. Numbed. She remains leaning against him, a series of small tremors rippling through her body every few seconds.

"Ms. Platt," he calls to her, scared to move, to spook her. "Is there somewhere I can take you? I... we're a bit of a long way from Ohio, do you have family here now?"

Her breath catches, her chest shuddering as she shakes her head.

"No," she rasps, barely audible above the crash of the waves around her. He really needs to get her back on dry land, away from the waters and the god-forsaken cliff she tried to jump from. "He's gone."

"He?" Carlisle repeats softly.

Esme lifts her head, her cheeks tear-stained and her lips still trembling. "My son, Dr. Cullen. I... I just had a baby and he didn't make it. I couldn't even save my baby."

Her shoulders collapse and she wraps her arms around herself, trying to keep the shudders of her body contained.

If he had a heart, he thinks it would have stuttered in his chest, cracked for her.

"Oh, Esme," he exhales, relishing the rare sound of her name in his mouth. "I'm so sorry... let me get you out of here. Let me take you somewhere safe and you can tell me more about all that has happened."

"Safe?" she echoes, a feral spark of something dark registering in her gaze. "Charles."

Her spine stiffens and she instinctively moves closer to Carlisle. She's afraid, he notes, afraid of this Charles person.

"No one is going to hurt you," he swears, but there is more than mere comfort in the words. He means it.

Esme blinks and shifts her attention once more to his face, but this time, it's as if she's truly seeing him for the first time. Her brow creases, confusion tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"How can this be real? How... could you have possibly-" Her head tilts back, eyes flicking from the cliff above their heads and back to him again. "How could you have stopped me?"

He doesn't know how to answer, how to possibly begin to cover the truth.

He doesn't really want to.

Carlisle carefully takes one of her hands in his own, squeezing it with the most minuscule portion of his strength.

"I'll show you, but you have to trust me. I know it's asking so much-"

"I do," she interrupts, those glassy eyes staring up at him with far more trust than he's ever deserved. Her brow furrows a little, as if the concept is simple. "I trusted you then, I trust you now."

"Then hold on."

Esme is still clinging to his neck even though they've been back on the ground for at least five minutes now.

"I'm so sorry I've frightened you," Doctor Cullen tells her for what has to be the third time, but sounding no less earnest.

After he picked her up and practically flew from the outcropping of rocks amidst the sea, rising from the surface of the ocean's edge to the dry land up above, he had carried her to a nearby fallen tree, gingerly placed her to sit upon the trunk. It's how they've remained in the last few minutes, with his mouth murmuring a stream of apologies and his body leaning over hers, bowed by the latch of her arms, but not seeming to be taxed by the position.

She is supposed to be dead, broken like waves against the rocks and carried out to sea. Instead, she is sitting with a man with... with what? Superhuman abilities? A devil in disguise of a beautiful man?

"What are you?" she finally manages to ask, pushing past the stiffness in her arms to relinquish their hold.

Doctor Cullen bows his head, his eyes falling closed as if in prayer.

"I'm afraid that it may come as an even greater fright to you."

She swallows hard. "You do not seem to mean me any harm. Unless you have only saved my life to torture me further."

His head lifts immediately, his eyes stricken as they land upon her. "No, never. I may be a monster, but I couldn't... my intention could never be to hurt you."

The intensity has her taken aback, but she holds his gaze. "A monster?"

It certainly isn't a word she would have associated with the soft-spoken doctor beside her. She can still remember with clarity the way in which he treated her ten years ago, with delicate hands and a genuine smile, eyes that held hers for a moment too long.

She never managed to forget him, more than likely because Charles made her wish even more for the first man to ever make her heart skip. She could never help thinking how she wished it had been him she exchanged vows with. Esme always managed to convince herself that Doctor Cullen would have healed her wounds, not bestowed more upon her.

"I am sure you have heard certain myths, legends of immortal creatures?" he begins, lowering to sit near her, leaving a large gap of space between them.

Esme nods, childish tales of magical sea creatures and monsters under the cloak of darkness in the woods flittering across her brain. "Some."

He twines his hands together between his knees. "What about vampires?"

It takes a moment for the correlation to register, what he's trying to tell her.

"I am... impossibly fast, incredibly strong. There is little in this world that could truly hurt - let alone kill - me," Doctor Cullen continues. "I'm dangerous and it would serve you best to stay far away from me."

Her head is spinning so fast that she has to squeeze her eyes shut, nearly buries her face in her hands, but wait-

"Stay away from you?" she repeats, meeting his forlorn expression staring back at her. As if waiting for her to react with the utmost amount of fear and hatred towards him.

And perhaps she should, if what he is saying is true and not some post suicide hallucination of hers. If her former doctor is actually a vampire.

"I do not... feed on humans," he tells her quickly. "I survive only on the blood of animals, but I am aware it does not change who I am, what I am. I could never expect-"

"I know you won't hurt me," she breathes, her swollen eyes feeling heavy, her entire body weighed down by exhaustion and a fresh wave of despair. "Can you take me to the place you spoke of, to safety?"

"Of course," he answers, rising in what feels like a flash. "And Esme?"

Before she realizes what is happening, he is easing his arms beneath her legs, the curve of her spine, and carrying her bridal style against him once more.

She hums in response, giving up on the idea of remaining conscious any longer and leaning into the wall of his chest against her cheek instead.

"Please, call me Carlisle."

Her lips quirk. This has been quite a lovely dream.

To continue with the full story that will follow this first chapter, I hope you’ll consider finding this little story on FFnet. :)

#twilight fanfiction #esme cullen #carlisle cullen #carlisle x esme #esme x carlisle #carlesme #twilight #fanfiction #my writing #lover of mine

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pollylynn · 3 years

Photo

Title: Disavowal WC: 1000 Episode: The Human Factor (5 x 23)

Conspiracy theories are entirely his territory. This has not been in question even once over the last five years. It’s in question now. She should see the warning signs that something is not right with the world when he is not the engine that drives every conspiracy theory about what should be Dale Tanner’s murder case.

Oh, he seems to be. At the scene—the maddening scene that smacks of every anxiety dream trope under the sun—he is cracking jokes about Men in Black to her, to the MIBs in question, to anyone who will listen. He’s amused by Guerrero shutting her down by Agents J and K driving off with her on their metaphorical running board, with their crime scene being hauled away on flatbed. He’s amused and tells her that at least they have each other. If he’d noticed the man at the scene watching her intention, he’d probably be amused by that, too. But he doesn’t notice the man. She alone notices him—is unnerved by him—and all is not right with the world.

She’s annoyed that he’s amused. Or, really, she’s annoyed at the way the back of her neck is prickling over all this, and that’s on top of how overtly furious she is at her investigation being stomped on by the fed—a fury that only grows when she learns about her victim’s work, and she can’t help drawing parallels to her own mother’s commitment to the truth and serving the forgotten. She’s annoyed at circumstance, she’s annoyed that he’s amused. And then she’s annoyed that he’s not amused.

He’s subdued during their elevator conversation on their way out to Fort Drummond, and she’s the one who has to try to joke him out of it. She dangles the Military–Industrial Complex in front of him, but he doesn’t take the bait. This is not the arrangement. This is not how these things go. He’s more himself at Fort Drummond. He’s as astonished as she is furious about the meeting with Fortis and Hooper, and it makes him haughty. It makes him usefully irritating. But it’s back to neck prickling on the way back to the precinct when he does pitch Military–Industrial Complex, but the story he spins is it’s plausible. The idea is far too plausible for her taste or for his.

He recovers once the case takes its next turn. There’s one final suggestion—a suggestion that is also gloom-producing in its plausibility—that the man who turns out to be Jared Stack is a government assassin. He starts to build back to himself as he feeds off the absurd Mission: Impossible vibes that he’s not at all wrong in picking up on, as he calls Stack out for his improbable Bad Guys Stole Our Drone and Killed a Thorn in Our Collective Backsides With It scenario. And once they have confirmation that the drone was hacked, he is off and running with his Rise of the Machines theory. But her neck is still prickling, because she’s still stuck on Stack.

Oh, she's not stuck on Stack in at all the right ways. He plays her left and right. It’s embarrassing. It’s humiliating when she thinks about the evidence seized, her time wasted, and all of this features far too many moves from the playbook of one Sophia Turner for her to not want to seize a drone of her own and blow something up.

But even as she coughs up Warburg for Stack—and hopes like hell that Castle doesn’t remember that he totally called the fact that Stack had quite transparently fed them the name Warburg for his own nefarious purposes—even as she tries to keep her face an absolute blank when Stack produces Omar Dixon and then has the audacity to swing his professional dick about it, she is not stuck on Stack in at all the right ways.

She knows it. She knows it’s distracting her from the case. It’s making her more than a little mean to Castle, to Ryan, even when their enthusiasm for the grand government conspiracy keeps turning out to be annoyingly close to right. She tells him that he wasn’t right, he was exactly wrong about Warburg. She plays the prank that ends with him smashing his toys. She’s disappointed in herself for it. She’s annoyed with herself, because she cannot figure out what it is about Stack that has her underdeveloped conspiracy theory centers firing.

And the reveal, when it comes, is strange. Stack is strange and deeply off-putting, even now—especially now—when he is apparently trying to pay her a compliment. He’s overly familiar and unaware that he is not pulling off the swagger, not when she’s well aware that he was unable to draw out a college student or make any headway in finding Warburg, a man who’d been in recent contact with a person he’d been surveilling. He reminds her of nothing so much as a spoiled son who’s been handed daddy’s used car lot to manage.

And still, the reveal is strange. She neither needs nor wants Stack’s flattery. She neither needs nor wants his third degree about where her career his going. His used car salesman pitch is inept, but what he’s offering is not unappealing when her ego’s been bruised, her efforts to get justice for her victim have been hemmed in at every turn, when she feels powerless and the back of her neck is still prickling. It’s not unappealing.

There’s a version of the ending that has nothing to do with conspiracy theories. There’s a version of the ending where she presses her back to the door of the loft, holds out her hand for her generous pour of zinfandel, and tells him—tells Castle—the strangest thing just happened.

But that’s not the version that transpires. She says nothing. He, eventually, asks. And she lies. She’s part of the conspiracy.

And this is not the arrangement.

A/N: Your humble author’s hatred for Stack as written and portrayed might seem to have morphousness. This is only an illusion.

images via kissthemgoodbye

#Castle #Caskett #Castle: Season 5 #Castle: The Human Factor #Kate Beckett #Richard Castle #Kevin Ryan #Sophia Turner #Fic #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Fan Fic #Fan Fiction #Writing #Tell Me More

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missskzbiased · 4 years

Text

I Hate That I’m Afraid to Love You

Genre: Romance , Friendship, Angst, Hurt /Confort , Suggestive, College Au, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Au, REALLY Slow burn, Love Square (?)

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader X Han X OC

WC: ~ 4,1K

[Previous] [Chap] [Next]

Masterlist

Warnings (general*): Language, Mentions of (Physical abuse, Death/ Loss of Loved One, Child Abandonment/Neglect, Divorce, Toxic Parents, Cancer, Mental disorder, Anxiety Attack, Alcohol, Food), Suggestiveness (?)

*Not all chapters have these but I’m letting this like general because as a series I think it’s better if I warn all of them at once instead of warning out of nowhere since I’ve already written some chapters*

Notes: The “Angst/Hurt/Confort” is related to the plot and how the characters will build their relationship, therefore it’ll be mentioned more than once through the chapters. Although I don’t think I made it really distressing nor anything like that, please be aware of the Warnings if you don’t feel comfortable with the themes <3

This is an EXTREMELY slow burn, if you don’t like those, I don’t think you’ll enjoy the fanfic :’(

Updates: I’ll update it once a week because I still have to write the chapters to come and review the ones I already wrote

////

Hate: a) To feel extreme enmity towards something or someone: Regard with active hostility; b) To have a strong aversion: Find very distasteful.

Regarding all emotions someone could ever feel, you didn’t think something could be more powerful than hatred.

What in the world could be more powerful than disliking someone to the point you couldn’t even stand their presence? It meant you would prefer to leave rather than stay. Nothing could ever beat that. Nothing. People could do insane things moved by it. Things no one should ever think about doing nor do at all for that matter. Things that could hurt and destroy everything around someone’s life.

Even though common sense stated love was blind, you thought that maybe hate was blinder… Maybe hate was the one who blinded love. Who knew? You were sure hatred moved people to do the undoable. So what could be a better answer to your professor’s question? What was the most powerful feeling in the world?

“Fear” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him. You didn’t know if it was the black hair, the dark eyes, or that pretty face everyone felt the urge to ogle but somehow Hyunjin had that funny effect on people around him. It was like people needed to hear him, like he held some kind of mesmerizing voice that made people believe he was a wise man on a young body.

He wasn’t.

“How is fear greater than hate?” You scoffed, wondering why people looked at him like he knew what he was talking about “I never saw someone actively doing something because of fear but people actually make decisions based on hatred” You pointed out, smirking at him. Hyunjin couldn’t possibly retort you because you were right, and sooner or later he would have to admit it.

“I believe you didn’t quite understand the professor’s question, my dear” He had this ridiculous accent like he was British when he clearly wasn’t, and you couldn’t help but grimace at him before he continued “He asked what is the most powerful emotion not what emotion prompt people to do something… I must say that if an emotion paralyzes you to the point you can’t make a decision ─ as you pointed out yourself─ it must be quite powerful, don’t you agree?” He had that smug look on his face, suggesting he thought he had won your argument, and you would gladly wipe that smug grin out of there if Paris didn’t interrupt you.

“Excuse me but I think it’s love” Her voice sounded polite even though you knew she thought Hyunjin was being dumb “If fear is something that paralyzes someone and that is your argument for power, I think love can beat fear, so it’s obviously more powerful” She stated, not bothering to defend her arguments.

Typical Paris.

“In what world love beats fear?” He jeered, looking at her as if she was growing a third head “I’m sorry to disappoint you, darling, but life isn’t a fairy-tale” He pouted mockingly.

What a despicable guy.

“It’s well known that love can make someone so eager to protect another thing that you could simply ignore your fears and get stronger. Mothers can lift a car to free their child, soldiers can fight harder if they have someone to go back to! And if you consider the paralyzing feeling, knowing love can beat this would mean it’s stronger than fear… When you love you can do or give up on doing things just to be able to protect something you love” She stated proudly before you looked at your professor expecting his verdict.

Like on cue, the bell rang, announcing your class was over.

And so did he, waving dismissively to all of you to go.

Great, so it was a kind of philosophical game for him.

Your pointless argument ended up with nothing but a bunch of opinions you couldn’t say was right; and when it came to insisting on being right there was just one person in this world you could say you almost hated… Hyunjin. He came to you with his signature─ a smug grin that made you want to punch his face every day─, getting in your way to pack your things as he picked up one of your pencils, spinning it between his fingers. You didn’t even make the effort to ask it back, settling for extending your palm up, so he would give it back to you.

“Paris may have a point but I beat you” Should you punch his face for real someday? Probably not. You should keep good grades and a perfect image so you could keep your scholarship. What a pity. You shook your hand once, a silent ask for your pencil again, and this time he put it on your palm, leaning closer as he braced himself on the desk, trying to be seductive or something “What? Are you so upset you lost to me you don’t even want to talk anymore?” He said in a mocking tone that made you glare at him.

“Even when I’m right I don’t want to talk to you” You reminded him, throwing your bag’s strap on your shoulder “Let’s go, Paris, Chan said He was going to have lunch with us today” You took her hand and guided her to the door, walking fast so you could leave Hyunjin behind but he, unfortunately, was right on your tail.

“It’s funny because I recall you bragging every time you’re right and I’m not hearing it now” He said, easily picking up your pass, since his legs were way longer than yours “I guess you don’t want to talk to me because you lost again” Oh god, how could he be so insufferable?! You trailed your eyes around the stairs, looking for Chan on the crowd.

Thankfully, there he was.

Chan was a fine guy, as anyone with two functioning eyes could see or at least guess since a lot of girls were staring at him. He was waiting in the corner, his arms crossed on his chest and his bored eyes looking at the floor while he waited for you, his dark hair falling on his eyes, obliging him to run his fingers into his locks, looking charming in the eyes of the girls ogling him. You chuckled as you saw him eyeing them disgusted, clearly bothered by people looking at him doing nothing like he was some kind of idol or something.

“Hey, Sweety!” You shouted, making him roll his eyes at the nickname that symbolized your friendship. It was the first name you ever called him, a sarcastic remark for the typical rich guy he was, a pretty and spoiled bastard.

The circumstances you met weren’t the best ones but somehow they worked in your favor.

You were working hard on pilling some boxes ─ all of them with a “fragile” sticker that made you very aware about the possibility of losing your job if you dropped one of them─, so it was only natural you were pissed as hell when someone dropped all of them at once. As if he didn’t have anything better to do, Chan stood with his right hand raised to blame, a smirk plastered on his face as he said “Ops! Sorry, Sweety” making his dumb friends laugh at you.

You couldn’t say you were a typical rich girl especially because you were, in fact, quite poor, so your antics were totally justified by the need you had to keep your job on your hands and change your paradigm.

It shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone with a brain but he had to pay for the losses.

So you shot him a tight smile when you saw him walking to the exit and said “Don’t forget to pay for those, Sweety”, making him shot a brow at you. You remembered clearly the way he got close to you, declaring with that cocky attitude you hated “Do you know who I am?” as if it would make any difference. You shoved him on the wall, losing your composure, and hissing at him that you didn’t care, and he should pay for it unless he was some kind of hallucination of your head.

He came back every day after that.

It has been four years since you two became friends against all the odds; and as a rich kid himself, Chan often paid for your meals, claiming your sorry ass should be thanking him instead of scoffing. You couldn’t help but nudge him with your elbow as soon as you got next to him, making him nudge you back as Paris clasped her hands together, her eyes beaming at your interaction.

“It’s so beautiful how you guys love each other!” Paris couldn’t see you interacting with another human being without believing you were in love, and although it kinda annoyed you, you tried to overlook it since she didn’t have much more to hold a grudge against. She had been your roommate for the past three years at the dorms, and even though she was a hopeless romantic and annoyed the hell out of you to get together with someone, that was pretty much her only great flaw.

You remembered perfectly how you thought your life was over once you met her.

Your first impression of the dorm was awful as you got there and saw the overly pink and cute stuff hanging all around the place as she tried to organize everything in her room. She didn’t have much stuff but all her stuff was vibrant and girly to the point it hurt your eyes.

You didn’t complain.

You put your bag on the floor, looking at her with a grimace as she beamed to meet her new friend. You could say you hated to live with her in the beginning, her carefree self was annoying and her overly friendly antics pissed you off as she always asked you to do things together, watch movies, and eat, and talk and... Well, anything you didn’t want to do with someone you just met. On top of all, she was somewhat lazy and didn’t do much, which ended up with you doing all the chores.

If you were to be fair, you were the one wearing out yourself, really.

Everything changed on a particularly exhausting day.

You had to be a damn good juggler on that week, working yourself until you couldn’t even think about anything clearly. You were like a zombie. A workaholic zombie. You had to go to classes, get your work done, do your assignments, clean up the dorm, study your ass off for the exams, pretend to be a normal human being by socializing with people… Well, basically you were pretty busy on being perfect as you expected you to be. It was obvious that after all your exams were finally done and you got out of work you needed to relax as soon as you got home.

You fixed yourself something to eat, turned on the TV, crashed on the couch to watch something, and just blacked out right there.

When you woke up on the next day’s afternoon, you got a cozy feeling above you, some fluffy blanket was thrown around your body, making you warm and peaceful. You shot your body up, sitting on the couch and looking around, alarmed, just to see the TV turned off, the dishes cleaned, the dorm tidy, and your bubbly roommate folding the clothes. You got up from the couch quickly and made a bow, apologizing profusely for being a mess and letting everything out of place on the night before. She scoffed, shrugging it off by waving her hand and said something around “I know you like to do the chores but you wore out yourself this week, you should take a break! You’re not being a burden! Isn’t helping each other out what friends do?” and it made you gasp before smiling.

You didn’t think of her as a friend back then but it did change that day.

“It would be even more beautiful if you didn’t try to make us swallow up your need to a nonexistent love between us every time I take you guys out” Chan pointed out, grimacing at her. You couldn’t say Chan and Paris got along even though you tried to make them friendly towards each other but you couldn’t blame Chan for being an ass since you weren’t any better to his friend.

“So you’re taking us out to lunch? Wonderful!” Hyunjin beamed in sarcasm, knowing too well you would complain. You rolled your eyes and looked at Chan as you guys started to walk, getting on your way to his car so he could take you wherever he was planning to go.

“It’s called a friendly gathering for a reason, Hyunjin… It means only friends can come” You feigned sympathy, pressing your lips together and looking at him with apologetic eyes. He scoffed at you and nudged Chan on the shoulder, resting his hand there as you walked.

“I’m his friend too! He’s paying so I can go as a friend unless you want to pay for everyone, then I will have to retreat” He argued, an almost unnoticeable smirk on his lips. You pouted, turning to Chan to complain but he seemed to not pay attention to your childish argument, ignoring you as he looked straight ahead, unbothered.

“He’s right” He stated before you could whine, showing that he was indeed hearing your conversation. Chan had this habit of pretending not to pay attention to you just to state something that showed he was tuned with everything even though he looked bored, and it always seemed to amaze you. He was a sneak little prick. You whined at him, complaining randomly so he would give up on his idea but he wasn’t buying it, pretty much ignoring you.

“You’re rich! You don’t even need him to pay for you” You decided to complain to Hyunjin, who just shot you an amused look, scoffing.

“You work! You don’t need it either” He pointed out, making you sigh. You looked at Paris for support but she was watching the world absent-mindedly, humming something she probably had come up with on the walk, testing over and over again some tune she seemed to like and picking up her phone quickly, recording it and sending it to you so she could save it. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and sighed.

What great friends you had.

“Oh! Are you going to come to Han’s game?” She asked suddenly, looking at you excited “He even said if he couldn’t score a point for us this time he would treat us afterward!” You laughed at her enthusiasm, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Was he laughing when you took the deal?” You asked and she seemed to think hard about it, her fingers gripping her chin as she frowned, trying to recall her conversation with your mutual friend. As soon as she remembered it, she smiled and nodded, making you snort “That’s because he’s a Líbero, Paris, they can’t score any points… He was hitting on you” You explained, her eyes shining in realization.

“He pranked me!” She uttered, laughing.

“If you actually paid attention to his explanations you would have guessed it” You pointed out, making Chan snort “Are you coming?” You asked him but Chan shot you a pointed look.

“Do I look like the kind of guy who would go to a volleyball match?” He asked mockingly, making you shrug.

“You don’t look like the kind of guy who spends your time with dumbasses but here we are going to eat with one” You retorted, glancing over your shoulders so Hyunjin knew you were talking about him. You finally made it to the car. Chan clicked his key’s button, unlocking his car from afar before you got there, opening the door, and getting inside with a cool motion that made you laugh. He was so playboyish!

“I wasn’t even doing anything right now” Hyunjin complained as he got himself on the front seat in the same way Chan did, trying to look cool. You snorted at him, getting in the car and sliding to the side so Paris could get in beside you “Is it just to get my attention?” He teased, looking over his shoulder, getting startled at your face so close to his, your arms were resting on Chan’s sit, your chin resting on your arm as you looked ahead, watching as your friend backed up.

You didn’t hate Hyunjin or something like this, you both just teased each other every time you could. You weren’t really fond of his antics since he was just a playboy that didn’t care about anything apart from him ─ and you weren’t really the kind to feel comfortable around dickheads─, so your friendship just wasn’t meant to happen. You could tolerate him well enough when he wasn’t pissing you off at classes though. You could say you both were academic rivals, extremely smart students that liked to overcome the other by doing witty remarks and good work…

It wasn’t about being the best student, you didn’t believe in such a thing, it was about being better than him, and he wanted to be better than you.

You could remember clearly the first time you met.

He was a cocky guy back then too.

He sat right next to you even though there were tons of available seats, his smirk suggesting he wasn’t really the friendly type, so he could only be there flirting. You rolled your eyes. He tried to chat with you, talking about him and how he was taking that psychology elective because the other ones seemed too easy for him. You nodded, not really listening to his monologue, and opened your notebook as soon as the Professor came in, presenting himself and giving you a deep question that made you contemplate in silence before you answered it proudly. He scoffed. He scoffed right on your face as he retorted you, and you retorted him back, and then he retorted you again… Your endless arguing conquered a proud clap from your Professor.

You, on the other hand, conquered a rival.

Later that week Chan invited you to see his new place, an apartment he rented with a friend even though both of them could easily live by themselves… You could never understand them. You arrived ranting about your classes, bringing the “smartass” issue as soon as you remember, and complaining about that guy that would seat beside you twice a week.

You regret till this very day the way you said he was a hot and annoying guy because at this very moment he showed up on his sweatpants, using a towel to dry his hair as some drops fell onto his shirtless chest. He smirked at you, teasing you by saying “Hot, hm? So you were just playing hard to get. I like it” as he leaned on the wall, hanging the towel on his shoulder and making fun of you about it till this very day.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” Paris was waving her hand right in front of your eyes, trying to get your attention. You shot your eyes to her, startled, smiling apologetically “We’re here” She announced, making you realize Chan was parking, a huge and presumably expensive restaurant standing there in all its glory.

You would need to work at least to your death to be able to pay for breathing the air inside it.

“Holy shit, are you rich?” You asked in disbelief, shock getting the better of you as you completely forgot who you were talking about. Chan grimaced at you like you were his dumb but lovingly friend, and you shot him a glare as soon as you composed yourself.

Let Chan spend his money mindlessly and he would bankrupt his family.

////

You weren’t exactly the sport type but being on the grandstand together with a bunch of people you never talked to, all of you gathering by the same will to defeat the enemy… It just made its way to your mind somehow. You cheered loudly, booing at the opponents' team and their fans while clapping hard at your own team, shouting your lungs out every time Han made a good play, which was pretty often if you were fair.

If anyone asked you when you made it to college if you would be going to games and cheering for your team, you would laugh on their faces… In fact, that was exactly what you did the first time Han asked you if you were going to his game, amused by his innocence. You two met because Paris was majoring in Music and He decided to take some music classes, which got him an invitation to a party Paris decided to throw on a Friday night.

It was kind of cute how he was so flustered there, taking your offer for a glass of whatever Paris had mixed to serve as a drink with trembling hands. He was one of the first guys you had the pleasure to analyze as an aspiring psychologist, the clear signals of an awkward guy around the girl he had a crush all over his face: Pink cheeks, stuttering, exaggerated gesticulation, high pitched voice, inability to stay still as he swift his weight side to side, nervous eyes looking around the room…

The poor boy was on edge, his eyes resting on Paris from time to time as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know the right words.

Although he was a player in the court, he was far from that on real life and you found it cute.

You remembered how he winced startled as you patted his shoulder, he looked like a little squirrel stocking his cheeks with alcohol just so he could gulp it down and choke, confused at your knowing look. He ended up being Paris’ partner for most of their projects, obviously trying to get some alone time with her, even though she always called you to listen to their compositions, blowing his plans. All that hanging out and his friendly behavior began a loose friendship, where you went to watch his games with Paris and you two went to watch Paris’s performances, your little alliance being settled so you wouldn’t feel excluded.

That was how thoughtful he was.

Paris screamed, hyped by your team score, and you followed her, standing up and cupping your mouth to scream his name, his eyes searching for both of you in the crowd, a bright smile when his eyes connected to yours. You waved at his way, getting a wave as an answer before he had to focus again on his match.

As soon as the game ended, you both waited as the sea of people made their way out of the grandstand, mostly hyped for some afterward party that certainly would be happening somewhere. You and Paris made your way to the court, waiting for Han to come back from the locker room while chatting about the game. It took him some time to take his bath and get ready, and he came out of the locker room along with some friends that patted his back and complimented his plays, waving him goodbye as soon as they saw us waiting, knowing you wouldn’t go to the party.

“Y/N told me you can’t score a point as a Libero” Was the first thing Paris said, chuckling, making Han cackle up.

“You should know it by now! You came to literally every game I played for… Two years? It’s insane! What did you think? That I was a terrible player?” Paris grinned sheepishly and this time you cackled up.

“It seems like your partner doesn’t believe in your abilities” You pointed out, making him snort “Anyway, I heard you would be paying if you didn’t score anything, so it’s on you today, loser” Han grinned, throwing his arms around your shoulders, pulling both of you closer as he guided you.

“I can offer you the best hot dog in town” He agreed “Maybe even a soda if we all share it” Paris laughed, holding his wrist as she walked along with him, you took the hint to take his arm off your shoulders and let them have their moment, missing the way he pouted when you broke away the contact.

“I can pay for our drinks” You offered, making Han gasp in mock chock.

“Rich, aren’t we?” He joked, getting a light push on the shoulder as an answer.

“I work for a reason, moron” You rolled your eyes “Now let’s split that bill” You smiled as the three of you made your way to your favorite hot-dog stand on campus.

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binniewon · 4 years

Text

In Their Eyes 7

Prev|Next

Pairing: Hybrid!BTS/ Female!Human Reader

Warning: Mild cursing

A/N: YAY loves chapter 7 please enjoy most just Hobi but he is really important to the story- anyways I probably won’t update this in a while I am super busy but I love you!! Also if you want to be on the taglist please let me know!

Taglist:

@babyboytae1 @crystal581 @reallysparklychaos @mayla548 @dbaby14 @missseoulite @tundrafox548 @tae-letubbie @thebleuprince (unable to tag @alex--awesome--22)

Recently you had been thinking about the task that the scientist asked you to do and honestly you were ready to get out of the place, but it seemed like every time that you would want to get the damn thing over with so that you could leave Hobi’s beautiful smile and cute ears would pop into you head add that to Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook and you would chicken out every time. You don’t know why they have started to mean so much to you in this short amount of time but you knew that you needed to stop thinking about them and just do it the scientist were starting to become inpatient.

You figured that you would need to distance yourself from them if you every wanted to leave this place, but did you?

“Hey Y/N wake up” You recognized that voice anywhere and by the way that the sun hadn’t start to peek through your make shift blinds you knew that it was Hobi, every morning you guys went out to the lake and watched the sunrise but today would be the day that you started to distance yourself the more that you were detached the better.

“Hobi not today okay” you could all but hear his whine as the words left your mouth and you could feel your heart breaking.

“D-did I do something wrong” you regretted looking at him because the face that he was giving you almost had you caving in, almost.

“No Hobi I j-just don’t feel good” his ear perked up in alarm at your confession and he was immediately by your side.

“Do you need to go see Jinyoung he probably isn’t awake but I’m sure he would be more than happy to check you out and make sure everything is fine” how could you do this to them Yoongi and Namjoon were another story but the others had been so nice to you especially Hobi so how could you just betray them like this, you mother didn’t raise you to be like this but she wasn’t here anymore-

“I’m fine Hoseok I just need some space” you said upset, at yourself, but you took it out on him you quickly turned away from him but it wasn’t fast enough because you saw the hurt flash in his eyes and his ears flatten against his head, you had hurt the only person who without a doubt trusted you from the beginning and it was all because you were selfish.

You stayed in your bed all day long you knew that if you came across Hobi you would march over to the scientist and tell him to leave the hybrids and you alone but you couldn’t do that because you needed to get home.

A rapid knock on your door had you sitting up as you waited for the hybrid on the other side to make themselves known and by known you mean to make sure it wasn’t Yoongi or Namjoon you didn’t want to have to confront them until it was time and you were dreading it.

“Y/N open the fucking door” that was Yoongi, you quickly looked around for some way to escape Yoongi was really possessive when it came to his mates but he was even more possessive with Hobi and if Hobi told him how you treated him and what you said you were a dead man walking.

“Fine I will just break it down” this was your only form of privacy in the hellhole and you didn’t want that taken away from you so you jumped up and quickly unlocked it. As soon as the door was open Yoongi pushed you backwards you didn’t have a chance to regain you balance so you fell backwards and hit your head which didn’t feel too great.

“What the fuck is wrong with you huh Hoseok came to me crying because you hurt his feelings, I understand that you don’t “feel good” but that doesn’t mean that you have to yell at Hoseok he doesn’t deserve it so you will go fucking apologize to him now!” once he stopped his rant you snapped out of whatever trance you were in and quickly felt at the back of your head and when you did you felt something hot and wet, it didn’t take a genius to know what it was but you still brought your fingers to the front of your face to examine if you were in fact bleeding and to no one’s surprise you were.

It seemed like Yoongi snapped out of whatever trance he was in also when he saw your bloody fingers “Fuck Y/N I-i- NAMJOON” you didn’t want to start freaking out but it was kind of hard when your head was bleeding and two people who absolutely hated you were standing over you trying to figure out what they should do.

“Let’s just take her to Jinyoung” Namjoon said which Yoongi quickly dismissed “He would kill us” Namjoon nodded his head in agreement “If the others find out they might kill us also” again Yoongi shook his head “Not if they have already found out what she did to Hoseok” you figured Namjoon already knew as his face quickly morphed to one of hatred “Your right”.

You started to become light head so you laid down just in case you passed out you could still hear them talking but you chose to block them out they were just making you feel worse.

It wasn’t until you heard hushed whispers that you chose to lift your throbbing head to see what was going on, you watched as the other five boys walked in “Hey we smelled blood and- oh my god Y/N” Hobi was quickly at your side with his hand under your head trying to stop the bleeding.

“What the fuck did you do Yoongi” Hobi asked his mate pissed off when Yoongi said he was going to come talk to you he convinced Hobi that he wouldn’t hurt you and Hobi believed him.

“I didn’t do anything” at his reply Hoseok growled at him “So she magical ended up on the ground with her head bleeding?” Yoongi huffed at Hoseok’s question “I-I accidently pushed her too hard I swear it was an accident” Hobi snickered at his lover “Bullshit Yoongi”

You were getting tired of the fighting so you tried to defuse the situation but found it quit hard as the room started to spin and you felt yourself start to become lightheaded.

“H-he i-isn’t l-l” was the last thing you said before you blacked out.

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utterlyinevitable · 4 years

Note

After seeing ur explanation for that anon i really want to see a fic or a hc of ethan as a dad and becca as mom can u please do it??

omg okay ahhh my babys having babies. this is gonna be long and idk if it’ll make sense bc imma jot down everything i know about domestic e&b.

[just finished and... this is long and broken down into 6 categories........... enjoy!]

Ethan & Becca as Parents

The Pregnancy

They didn’t plan on having children, it just kind of happened. Becca and Ethan took a day for the news to settle before they jumped into excited, expecting parents mode.

The most exciting part was renovating the condo to make the most perfect nursery and shopping for decorations and mentally planning all the traditions and things they’d love to give to their little family.

All of the happiness couldn’t mask the struggles of pregnancy.

Becca hated being pregnant. She was sick and nauseous constantly, and her back and feet always ached.

Throughout the whole thing Ethan doted on her; holding her hair back and learning how to tie it up in the way she likes, rubbing her back, running out to get whatever she was craving.

He even made copious amounts of notes about her eating patterns. Enough to keep two of everything in the condo.

If she was having a restless night, he would too; even if she was restless for non-human-growing reasons.

They were in this together.

And even when she was huddled over a garbage pail, dribble running down her chin, she never looked more beautiful to him.

There was just something about all this that made him feel all weird and fuzzy inside.

When her symptoms barely settled throughout the second trimester she overhauled her entire birthing plan. There was no way she was making it to 42 weeks. She was absolutely miserable. So she made a c-section appointment for 40 weeks.

She had an entire argument with Ethan one evening (she really was only yelling while he nodded his head). Her main points were: “It’s my body and the baby will be fine. I was born 6 weeks early and I turned out fantastic!” and “Once the baby’s out of me I’m still going to have to pee. Omg what if she rips me open!? How am I supposed to use the bathroom without worrying about my stitches?”

All he kept reiterating was: “I love you. I trust you and your instincts.”

Becca felt better as he held her face in his large hands, his calming azure eyes boring into hers and letting her know everything will be alight.

But deep down she spent the next few weeks since making the appointment wondering if she should have given vaginal birth a try. She didn’t want Ethan to resent her for chickening out of her body’s natural function.

The Birth

Becca made it to her c-section appointment. Happily rubbing her large belly and glowing: “I can’t wait to not be pregnant anymore! Never do this to me again.”

All Ethan did was chuckle.

He was happy she was getting color back and that her symptoms finally settled enough for her to spend the last few weeks enjoying their daughters kicks. But oh my god was Ethan Ramsey terrified of being a father.

He wouldn’t tell Becca though. She was emotional and worried enough as is. Any and all his concerns were saved for the short conversations he had with his father. “Don’t overthink it, son. The moment you lay eyes on your daughter you’ll know what to do. It’s instinct. Biology. That was your best subject in school, wasn’t it?” Alan would joke.

The surgery went off without a hitch.

All of Becca’s hatred for the phenomenon of pregnancy vanished the second the nurse placed their daughter on her chest.

Rebecca was in awe. She made that! This little person came out of her! This little pink person that looks like a plucked chicken with a tiny tuft of brown hair was here and she was beautiful. The perfect combination of her and Ethan.

The embodiment of their love.

Dakota Dolores Ramsey was completely unplanned. Unplanned but not unwanted.

The first time Ethan Ramsey held his daughter time froze. The universe needed a minute to process the broad grin and full heart thumping rapidly from this stoic and reserved man.

The earth was about to spin the wrong way but then Dakota opened her eyes.

Everything was the way divinity had planned it.

At Home

Although Ethan and Becca lived a 10 minutes drive from Edenbrook, nearly a straight run, Becca forced him to drive as slow as possible.

Dakota was asleep and she needed to keep it that way.

Due to her stitches, Becca was forced to take things easy. No matter how many times she argued with Ethan that she was capable of menial tasks around the house.

Ethan would not let her lift a finger.

If Dakota needed a change he’d happily do it. if Becca was hungry he’d make her favorite.

“You had her to yourself for nine months. Let me take the next few days.” Becca went to retort, all she wanted was to hold her baby for the rest of eternity. She’d never tire of looking at her scrunched up potato face and watching as her features changed every moment of every day. “I promise to share.” “You better,” she kissed him as he tucked her into bed for a much needed nap.

The only thing he was forced to share with his partner was feeding duty - Becca was adamant on breast feeding. A bottle would not touch their daughters lips for months to come.

That in itself brought its own challenges.

Most nights Ethan laid in bed with Becca curled up at his side in one arm and Dakota resting on his bare chest.

Parenting was weird, but an exhilarating change.

Ethan couldn’t diagnose what he could have possibly have done right in his life to be this wholly happy.

The Second

Once Ethan and Becca had one child they were both itching for a second.

“You know what say: ‘if you have one you have to have two’.” “Is that so?” “You don’t want Dakota to have a sibling?” “I was an only child and look how I turned out.” “Emotionally stunted and certified loner?” she teased.

Truth be told, Ethan wanted another. He’s been thinking of giving his pride and joy a few siblings for weeks now. He just didn’t know how to tell Becca.

Becca complained frequently about how happy she was to not be pregnant, and often about how her scar healed funnily.

All of the signs pointed to her not wanting another. And Ethan was okay with that. He never expected to have one child. He’d cherish every moment of what’s been placed right in his fingertips.

He’ll let his soon-to-be wife choose their path. She’s dictated everything else thus far. Ethan was elated she chose him to be along for the ride.

After Dakota’s first birthday, when they made the decision to have another, they tried desperately to conceive.

“I really don’t want to have to deal with diapers for five years,” was Becca’s main reason for keeping the kids close in age. “We can try surrogacy.” Ethan offered, knowing how much she hated pregnancy. He didn’t want to push her into anything. “No. I have to do it. I’ll do it for our kids. But you owe me big time.”

And 14 months later Caroline Marie Ramsey made her grand appearance.

And Becca got her first push present.

The Last

It’s fitting that four years later Ethan and Becca were blessed with another surprise.

Her pregnancy with James Jonah was the smoothest of them all.

Of course that meant something had to go wrong.

At 34 weeks Becca went into premature vaginal labor.

Within six hours their baby boy arrived. 5lbs 2oz and looking like an alien.

Ethan almost lost them both after the fact.

Becca lost too much blood with the placenta and JJ was so tiny.

But the Lao’s were fighters and they pulled through. Ethan cried at her bedside once the harrowing 24 hours were up.

Becca stayed at the hospital for a week, Ethan and Alan bringing the girls to visit every single day.

JJ had to stay a few days longer and Becca refused to leave until she could bring her son home.

She went through her first experience with postpartum depression. Becca didn’t think anything could be worse than the mental toll her abortion had on her years earlier. But she was wrong.

She was so wrong.

All their friends chipped in to help take care of the kids while Ethan devoted his time to helping his wife. The couple went to therapy, sometimes together, other times Ethan sat in the waiting room as Becca worked through her emotions.

Months later, the parents were sitting at home. Ethan held their son and their daughters were curled on their laps: He muttered into his wife’s hair, “I’d like to have one more.” “Not with me you’re not,” she scoffed. “We’re outnumbered as is.”

JJ began to cry and the girls stirred. Dakota mumbling, “Tell the baby to shut up, I’m sleeping here.”

They couldn’t help but laugh and pull apart to put their whole world to bed.

Old and graying and spending more time at home with his kids, Ethan wanted just one more baby. Four was a strong, even number. He could have a whole daycare full of them - each one the best variations of him and Becca.

Becca had spent a large portion of her 30s childrearing and she’s done. Done with diapers and formula, especially. She loves her children more than anything but they’re exhausting. She can’t wait for them to be in school full time and she can have some more alone time with her husband. It’s been so long since it’s been just them too.

“Don’t hate me...” “I could never hate you,” Ethan said as he brushed a few strands of hair from his wife’s face. She swallowed and confidently said, “I want you to get a vasectomy.”

He agreed without further consideration. She made a very compelling argument.

Parenting

Ethan is the doting helicopter dad and Becca is doctor drill sergeant. The kids get away with nothing under their mother’s watch.

Ethan is very soft and adores his children. The grumpy attending could have a whole gaggle of them. He spoils his daughters rotten, picking up the newest doll and toy they’re obsessed with, and making them promise not to tell mommy.

The women in Ethan’s life get away with everything and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

When the girls were born, Ethan stepped back at work letting the better Dr. Ramsey have her career defining moments.

He took half days to pick the girls up from preschool and would bring them to the park or museums. He’d even try to teach them to cook their favorite recipes on cold, rainy days. He’d tire them out so that he and mom could tuck them in after dinner.

Ethan’s afraid of his son. He’s afraid the tot is going to turn out exactly like him - he’s the spitting image, except that his hair curls like his mother’s.

Instead of putting JJ in fulltime daycare, Ethan chose part time preschool. The girls were in primary school now and he’s taken a bigger step back from the hospital after the baby was born.

He devotes all his free time to teaching his son about all he knows and learning all he doesn’t.

Becca complains about the state of her vagina and stomach all the time. Never in front of the children but often enough Ethan knows the look on her face right before she says the same two lines.

Her favorite activity is building forts and taking the kids to the beach.

The holidays have never felt more alive with the full house. Ethan even became a Christmas and Valentines Day lover.

Becca loved watching him change over the years. Every new first they celebrated with each child, every one of their kids passions, Ethan would adopt them all and make it his mission to be a connoisseur of every facet.

Dakota sat her parents down one day with a serious topic of conversation: “Mommy, Daddy. I’m going to be a fashion designer.” “Will you?” “Yes. And I need to dress myself.” “As long as it’s weather appropriate, consider it done.” “And we need to get supplies.”

The conversation went on for 15 minutes with Ethan and Becca asking questions and Dakota making demands. Once they’ve settled on an agreement on how to make their daughter’s dream happen, Ethan retired to his office. He taught himself the basics of sewing.

Even with all the struggles of raising three children in a suburb of Boston while balancing very demanding medical careers, Ethan and Becca wouldn’t have it any other way. The life they carved out of all their complications was worth it.

All of this was inevitable.

And they wouldn’t take a moment for granted.

________________________________________

Um... this became bigger than intended... If you made it this far, thank you ♥

Masterlist

Perma:

@rookiemarsswiftie @lucy-268 @binny1985 @thegreentwin @queencarb @danijimenezv @starrystarrytrouble e @terrm9 @interobanginyourmom @adrex04 @maurine07 @mercury84choices @schnitzelbutterfingers @theeccentricbibliophile @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @kaavyaethanramsey @mvalentine @rookie-ramsey @drariellevalentine @lifeaskim @otherworldlypresents @therookie @aylaramseycarrera @angela8754 @fireycookie @stateofgracious

Ethan:

@udishaman @honeyandsunfl0wers @hutchereverlark23 @ohchoices @dulceghernandez @blossomanarchy @claredal424 @caseyvalentineramsey @rookieoh @openheartthot @senseofduties @lilyvalentine @tsrookie @kalogh @aworldoffandoms @takemyopenheart t @casey-v @ramseyandrys @peaceinmidstofchaos

#Anonymous #asked #this was a lot of word vomit #did not edit at all #don't let this flop #reblog for the 3 kids ethan and becca need to support #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #open heart fanfic

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mystic-kitten-writer · 3 years

Note

I lovveeeee Zuko & Yue. BUT! I’m a sucker for breakup angst, can you plz write one where they breakup but they’re all sad with out eachother but they don’t wanna admit it 🥺🥺

But like- why do you have to break my heart like this 🥺

Here is me, finishing my finals, and my first drabble is angst LOOL

LET’S DO THIS~

AU: Limerence

Pairing: Zuko x Fem. OC (Ying Yue Jiang)

Masterlist

Salt on a wound.

Their eyes locked, gasping as they spotted each other from across the vast room.

There could be thousands upon thousands of people, but you could bet your own life that these two would still be able to spot each other in seconds. It was the magical connection, everything about them a reflection of each other, down to their racing pulses.

That was the power they held.

Making time stand still as their energy mixed, like tender caresses and gentle hums, something straight out of a romance novel.

So, imagine the looks on all the guests' faces, their chatter immediately dying as they spotted the two ex-love birds silently gawking at one another. Everyone's expressions flattered, Aang shutting his eyes at the apparent twist of pain. The rose-coloured tone of the room quickly changing to a blue.

It was like observing the aftermath of a storm, Zuko and Yue nothing more but broken pieces of their once fabulous selves.

Neither one of them wholly healed, neither one of them genuinely ready to move on, let go.

And ironically, while the pain and utter loneliness were so clearly etched on their faces, Yue and Zuko were oblivious to each other's pain.

Yue could hear the blood rush to her head, the room spinning, as her hands began to shake. The wine in her glass swishing as she bites her lip to stop the tears that lined her eyes. Her heart was beating; her mind utterly fixated on Zuko. She knew she wasn't completely healed from the break-up, but my gosh, now she really knew.

To love someone who already moved on, unbothered. That blank expression Yue saw on Zuko's handsome features, her fingers itching to brush his nose and adorable lips. To surround herself in his steady warmth, to hear the deep rumbles from his chest as he cuddled her close to his chest. She felt so safe, so loved- and Yue choked down a sob.

To think she believed she deserved to be happy.

To think she believed those sweet words from those sinful lips, desperate for those sweet lies.

He said he loved her, that he could never imagine a life without her by his side-

"Yue-" Katara whispered harshly into her ear, holding the hand that cupped her wine to stop it from tipping over.

Yue jumped, letting out a tiny gasp. Katara saw the confusion in her gold eyes. Yue's mind was so disoriented and dark, half-heartedly thanking Katara with a meek tone. It was like her mind was empty, that tiny bit of soul that Zuko didn't manage to destroy finally dissipating.

"Let's go, sweetheart-" Katara urged, her brows pinching together as her voice wavered.

Yue was as pale as a spirit, her bottom lip trembling. And with a dead shake of her head, Yue forced a broken smile.

"I-I'm okay. Don't worry about me."

Katara felt sick to her stomach.

Yue wasn't okay.

She was so far from okay; Katara could feel her blood boil because she could still hear Yue's soft cries. How Yue would lock herself in her room, blaming herself, demonizing herself. And despite knocking, trying to comfort, reassure, Yue would force a smile.

'I'm okay. Please, don't worry about me.'

Katara squeezed Yue's hand, wanting nothing more than to whisk Yue away. To see her happy.

To have her sister back-

Katara shifted her gaze momentarily as she grabbed Yue, a scowl on her expression as she watched Sokka walk to Zuko.

Not once in his lifetime has Sokka seen Zuko as shitty looking as he did now.

The most luxurious of robes, hair tied, handsomely groomed. Certain individuals not hiding their perverse joy in watching Yue break because that meant Zuko was available. And as Sokka stepped closer, taking note of how hollow his cheeks seem, the dark circles under his eyes, did he understand what Yue meant all those years when she said she fell in love with that spark.

Zuko seemed like an empty shell.

A boring nod for a greet, ripping his gaze abruptly from Yue with a thick swallow as they patted each other on the back.

"How are you, bud?" Sokka asked, trying to avoid the obvious, but he felt a shiver run up his spine.

"Fucking fantastic." Zuko sarcastically muttered under his breath with a hiss.

The venom in Zuko's words, a wave of anger.

So much anger, because unlike Yue, who let herself embrace the sadness, the loneliness- Zuko couldn't.

He much rather bask in his self-pity, drowning himself in work to keep his mind off Yue. Because no matter where Zuko was in the kingdom, he would be reminded of Yue.

Baked sweets, flowers, anything pleasant in life reminded Zuko of her. The dark taste of alcohol on his lips - the only means to push her away from his thoughts. A reminder of how disgusting of a human he was to break such a spirit like her. And it didn't help that the people were furious at the news that the pair had broken up. Out-right riots, people carrying signs that said 'Zuko doesn't deserve such a treasure' or 'Like father-like-son.'

Not like they were wrong.

Beauty and the Beast, and even then, Zuko snorted. Calling himself a beast would be an insult amongst creatures; not even the term monster seemed to encapsulate the self-hatred and loneliness Zuko felt.

Not like the royals cared.

Oh, no. There were ecstatic to get rid of Yue from the kingdom.

The next day shoving marriage proposals from 'real' suitors. 'They will treat you like how you should be treated, Fire Lord Zuko,' they happily noted. So why does Zuko feel more empty, dead, than ever before? How a single peck from Yue's pouty lips had his heart racing, blood rushing to his cheeks as he felt speechless.

Zuko's hands balled into fists, eyes scanning over the Northern Water Tribe and Earth Nation's royals. Zuko could tell from their looks alone what they were thinking. A heartbroken woman, easy prey-

They didn't deserve to see Yue's gorgeous eye smile.

Her happy giggles as she snuggled her head deep into his chest before they went to bed. Zuko's eyes would roll to the back of his head, just thinking of her addictive scent. How soft her skin felt under his. Her innocent and genuine heartfelt affections-

"Zuko," Sokka spoke, placing a hand over his shoulder, and Zuko snapped out of his dark thoughts.

Sokka couldn't bear it anymore, no longer beating around the bush, his hand digging into Zuko's robes and wrinkling the material.

"Talk to her, Zuko."

"No."

"And why not?" Sokka provoked, his nostrils flaring in annoyance. The frustration running through Sokka's veins, watching his best friend and sister dance in circles because everyone knew the truth.

A simple conversation, a discussion and this could all be over-

"I am a King; she's a commoner." Zuko disapproved through clenched teeth, spewing utter bullshit that Sokka let out a bewildered laugh.

"That didn't stop you before."

"I've moved on."

"For sure, Zuko. That's why you reek of alcohol and tobacco; Iroh sending letters of concern. That's why Kiyi begged Suki to bring Yue back to the kingdom." Sokka whispered harshly, and Zuko could feel something trickle down his palm.

His nails digging into his skin, beads of ruby falling as Zuko gave Sokka a warning look.

A plead.

Sokka's eyes softened, seeing the vulnerability in Zuko's eyes for that short moment. The look Yue gave to everyone before she burst into tears, her heart shattering as everyone struggled to pick up the pieces.

He was hurting. No matter how much Zuko tried to play it off, Sokka knew better. Everyone in this room knew better. With a tired sigh, Sokka hoped.

"Please, Zuko," Sokka spoke with a weak plead, and Zuko's temper flared.

"Leave me the fuck alone-" Zuko seethed, shoving his friend's hand off his shoulder.

The hushed mutters amongst the crowds, curious eyes watching Sokka fumble back at the explosion. The tension was thick; Zuko's chest puffed as heated flickers of fire left his dry lips.

Anger.

The need and want to scream, to shout. Zuko’s narrowed eyes hastily shifted around the room, searching for Yue- what the actual fuck was he doing?

"I need air-" Zuko growled, twisting on his heels as he wandered towards the large doors that he just entered minutes ago.

"Fire Lord Zuko-" The guards awkwardly fumbled, and with a sharp glare, they got the point. Standing in their spot as the grand doors swung open, only for Zuko to pass.

Everyone watched Zuko's fleeting figure. Walking down the empty hallway with his head hung low before the doors came to closed.

And Zuko let out a bitter laugh.

Alone.

He was alone...again.

Disclaimer: I do not own any Avatar characters besides any original characters I have created.

Cross-posted on Ao3/Tumblr/Quotev/Wattpad to discourage plagiarism.

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

#atla #zuko #zuko avatar #avatar the last airbender #zuko x reader #zuko x oc #prince zuko #fire lord zuko #avatar #limerence #masterlist #request #ask me anything #anon answered #like and/or reblog!

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written-on-the-trees · 4 years

Text

Chris Motionless Fan Fic - I Know You

Prompt: Cursed

Word-count: 1625 words

Warnings: none

Description: Many beings who cast curses are also the beings who break them...it becomes at little awkward, at least in Chris's opion, when the only way to break the curse he cast is through true love's kiss.

Chris knew the other fairies hated him. He was fine with it; he didn’t exactly like them, either. So long as their hatred never outweighed their fear, he didn’t care how much they whispered when they thought he couldn’t hear, or cowered when he came into sight, or avoided him as if their lives depended on it. He had no problem with being left alone to his own devices at all.

However, what Chris did have a problem with was three of the boldest fairies deciding they were going to try and break his curse.

Angelo, Thomas, and Josh were all beings Chris had maybe once considered friends…yet they took the side of the humans who had attempted to destroy Chris’s life. Even if Chris hadn’t been on the best of terms with the three other fairies at the time, the betrayal was enough to have him seeing red. Taking the side of human was bad enough: taking the side of humans who had demonstrably decided they had no care for fairies or their lives…any fairy in the Moors would be angry at them. They were trying to leverage bonds of friendship that hadn’t existed in decades against him, but Chris wasn’t having it.

They were trying to help the humans circumvent his curse by hiding the cursed chit of a human away from the palace she had been born into as if Chris’s magic was insipid enough to be tricked by a mere change in location…but it would do them no good.

On the night of her twenty-first birthday, the princess would prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel, and would fall into an endless sleep that only true love’s kiss could wake her from. Her parents could destroy every spinning wheel in the kingdom: Angelo, Thomas, and Josh could secret her away to a cottage in the forest: and every ‘magician’ and ‘sorcerer’ from across the land could work on breaking the curse, but it wouldn’t work. The outcome Chris had cursed the human to was inevitable and unavoidable…and even if, by some sheer coincidence any of them did come up with a way that could risk the curse not coming to be, that was why Chris was here, sitting in the shadowy lower branches of a large tree that overlooked the cottage they had attempted to hide the chit in, watching.

He would not be denied his revenge.

He would not.

Even if it meant that he was getting cramps in his legs and dew was settling on the feathers of his wings, he would ensure everything went to plan. He was half-expecting Angelo, Thomas, or Josh to come out and confront him, or ask him to break the curse now there was just a week until the princess’s twenty-first birthday and there was no-one who had come close to breaking or circumventing his curse. He wasn’t expecting to see the princess herself.

She had, as Thomas had said, become a beautiful young woman, with his gift granting her long hair so pale it appeared silver in the moonlight, ivory skin, bright green eyes that seemed to shine with the reflected light of the stars, and a graceful walk as she cut through the long grass outside the front of the cottage. Chris knew he shouldn’t be surprised the young woman was so beautiful, he had been there to hear Thomas give her that gift, but…it was a hollow beauty.

Her sadness was so obvious, it rendered her beauty shallow and empty. Her eyes may reflect the light, but they were hollow behind that reflection. Her lips were full and a fascinating shade of pink, but they were turned down slightly at the corners. Her cheeks were pale and smooth, but there was no hint of colour to them, no sign of life or joy. She was like a statue; beautiful, but cold.

“Are you here to visit my uncles?”

Chris almost started out of his tree at the question.

Almost.

Instead, he managed to keep his surprise on the inside, and instead turned to quirk his head at her, wondering if she would be put off by his tall frame, or wide raven-like wings, or the horns that rose from his head.

But she wasn’t. She just waited patiently for him to respond, looking up at him calmly from the base of his tree.

So Chris just shrugged: “No, I’m not.”

“Then why are you sitting in the tree outside their house?”

Their house, not our house…interesting…Chris pushed the thought aside for later, and just shrugged again: “Because I want to be.”

The princess nodded: “Oh, that seems reasonable, I suppose. I’m Dawn - may I ask your name?”

Being raised by fairies, the girl should have known better than to offer her name…but manners were manners, and as she had, Chris offered a name of his own in return: “You may call me Chris.”

“Well, it was nice to speak to you, Chris.” Dawn offered, even though their little tête-à-tête was hardly what Chris would call a conversation: “Have a nice evening.”

She appeared ready to walk on deeper into the woods, and Chris acted on the sudden urge to join her and elegantly dropped down from his position in the branches.

Dawn seemed lonely - and she was only going to become lonelier after she fell into her death-like sleep. Chris wouldn’t say he felt bad for the young woman, but he did acknowledge that she was innocent. His war was with her father, King Stefan, the man who had tried to cut off his wings, so the least he could do was offer the girl some company during her last waking week. As recompence for using her as a pawn against her father, even if she didn’t know he was doing so.

“Let me accompany you.” he offered, along with his arm so she could tuck her elbow through his: “We can continue to speak on your walk.”

Unsurprisingly, Dawn accepted - even though Chris was appalled at how little Angelo, Thomas, and Josh had taught her - and treated him to a smile that finally injected some life into her features: “Thank you, Chris. I would very much enjoy that.”

And so off they went.

Chris slid into the grand chamber they had laid Dawn in.

The thorny wall that he had grown to surround her in her sleep, back when he hadn’t wanted anyone to break his curse, had been no obstacle for him. He had found his way to Dawn’s bedside with no trouble at all, for all the good it would do him.

He had been foolish. So, so foolish.

Each night for a week, he had met Dawn at the edge of the forest, and they had spent a few hours walking among the trees, with her arm tucked through his.

At first, it had been an attempt at recompense: just something to make up for the loneliness she would feel in her endless sleep, but then…but then he had gotten to know her. Dawn was everything she had been gifted by the fairies and more. Beautiful inside and out, full of physical and mental grace, kind, intelligent (albeit sheltered), and utterly lovely. And now laying eerily still on an ornate four-poster bed.

He carefully perched on the side of the bed, and finally looked at Dawn properly. She looked like a memorial statue: a version of herself carved in marble to rest atop her grave, and it made Chris’s chest tighten. He had long thought his heart was beyond use, but seeing Dawn in an inescapable sleep, one that was his doing, made the long-forgotten organ stutter and ache.

“I’m sorry, Dawn.” he whispered, choking on the emotion welling in his throat, reaching out to brush his fingertips over the curve of her cheekbone before cupping her cheek in his hand: “So, so sorry.”

Of course, there was no response - and for the first time since he’d escaped Stefan, Chris felt tears well in his eyes.

This was all his doing. Dawn would remain in an endless sleep, with no-one to wake her, because her father and ‘uncles’ had kept her isolated from anyone who could truly love her. There was no-one to deliver true love’s kiss, no-one who could wake her, and it was all because of his bitterness towards her father.

Leaning in, Chris pressed a soft kiss to Dawn’s forehead.

He’d remain here with her. He had no-one else to miss or who would miss him, and even if she was asleep, Chris prayed that somehow she would know that she wasn’t alone. It wasn’t enough - would never be enough to make up for what he’d done - but there was nothing else he could do.

Closing his eyes against the tears that were threatening to spill, Chris snapped them open again when he heard a voice he thought he’d never hear again: “Chris?”

Dawn looked up at him, face painted with confusion, but Chris couldn’t bring himself to worry about her confusion.

She was awake.

“Dawn!”

“You woke me up…” she whispered: “I thought only…but that would mean…”

“I think we have a lot to talk about.” Chris whispered after she’d trailed off, still awed that his kiss had actually been true love’s kiss, and Dawn was awake and talking: “But we have time for that. You’re awake…”

“I am.” Dawn beamed: “Because you woke me.”

She reached out for him, and Chris met her half way, pulling her into his arms and clutching her to his chest before leaning down to kiss her properly this time, smiling into it when he felt her return the kiss eagerly.

He’d never been happier.

#The Trees Writes #The Trees' October 2020 Writing Challenge #Chris Motionless #Chris Cerulli #Chris Motionless imagine #Chris Cerulli imagine #Chris Motionless fanfic #Chris Cerulli fanfic #Chris Motionless fan fic #Chris Cerulli fan fic #Chris Motionless fan fiction #Chris Cerulli fan fiction

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2-cute-4-school · 4 years

Text

Hiraeth II

Group: NCT

Pairing: Lee Donghyuck/Haechan x f!Reader

Genre: angst, idk if you take some parts out of context you might find some fluff

TW: blood, weapons, torture (not an explicit description), suicide attempt(?)

Word count : 9.2K words

Mafia AU | M.list

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3- Final

Chapter summary : “ I still love him and I’ll love Donghyuck until my heart bleeds out of love. But I don’t love and I have never loved the monster who stands before me.”

Y/N’s head throbbed in pain as she tried to pry her eyes open, fighting against the harsh ache overtaking her entire body. She could feel a thin thread of liquid trailing down the side of her face and she had the sickening revelation that it must have been blood. Her blood. She felt as if her entire body was submerged underwater, in some rushing river with ice-cold water that chilled her down to the bones and numbed her limbs. As she cracked an eye open, her vision swarm, spinning in a whirlwind caused by the excruciating pain coming from her temples. A loud ringing resounded in her ears and served to make her even dizzier as she fought to regain her senses.

“I really can’t believe it was so easy. Just a wimpy kid under our sleeve and we took them down.”

The voice was muffled by the high pitched sound she could still hear, but it was enough to remind Y/N of what had brought there. Haechan, how could he? How could he betray the people he claimed more dear to him than his own blood, the ones who never hesitated to put their lives on the line to make sure he would be safe. And her members? She could only pray they escaped their attack and were on their way to her for she needed her guardian angels now more than ever. She needed them to tell her that life could go on, with or without Haechan, that she could go on missing her greater half.

As her senses seemed to come back to her she could faintly tell her surroundings. One thing was sure, she was snugly tied to a chair, bounded by thick ropes that seemed to burn through her skin. But nothing burned harsher than her agonized heart. She was left in nothing but a pair of shorts and a slightly oversized T-shirt, the bruises on her skin a scary purple, littered all over resembling blooming flowers.

Y/N shifted a bit in her chair, trying to get blood to rush through her numb limbs and lifted her head as much as her aching neck allowed.

“Well look who’s awake, what a wonderful surprise!”

The same voice as earlier exclaimed and her eyes met those of Park Ji-won, cold and mocking as they narrowed over her frame. Y/N could feel her stomach sinking, a cruel realization settling in her mind as she lowered her gaze again and avoided giving him any satisfaction by seeing her so lost and hopeless. She heard the door to her cell being unlocked as Ji-won stepped inside, two bulky men following him closely behind, sporting smirks and a crazed glint in their eyes.

Ji-won approached her and suddenly his mere presence suffocated her, closing her in a bubble where air ran out quickly and her chest felt heavy. Y/N knew she had to stay rational, calm, control her fear and keep a strong facade despite the dread that froze the blood in her veins.

“I apologize for the harsh treatment” he motioned towards the ropes that dug into her skin painfully “but we assumed that in the early stages of your visit here you might want to give us a run for our money.”

“You assumed?” Y/N grinned despite the shakiness of her fingers behind the back of the chair.

“Ah, such a pretty smile. Too bad it will be one of the last times you’ll grace us with it.”

“That’s right, you probably won’t be alive to see the next one.”

Ji-won let out a short chuckle, his eyes shining with an unspoken hatred.

“And who’ll be the lucky one to kill me, if I may ask?”

Y/N pursed her lips, looking away as if deep in thought, racking her head for all the ways her boys could end his poor excuse of a life. She hummed slightly as she turned her eyes back to the older man’s who stared at her with nerve-wracking amusement.

“Hmm, we’ll have to wait and see, they’ll probably have fun making you regret ever messing with us, they’ll make you wish they killed you faster.”

This time he threw his head back with laughter and Y/N had to force her facial muscles to keep her lips in a smile, becoming unnerved with the man’s careless reaction to her entire demeanor. Suddenly, he lifted his hand towards her face, cupping her jaw as if admiring a new doll. Y/N jerked her head away, recoiling from his cold and disgusting touch, but he only tightened his grip, squishing her cheeks between his rough fingers and lifting her face back towards him.

“And who exactly will do that? You who’s tied to a chair with no escape and about to beg for her life? Dear Haechan, who has been lying to you this entire time and brought the end of your little gang? Oh, are you talking about the rest of the members of NCT?”

The thought seemed to amuse him further as he leaned his head, settling beside Y/N’s face and she could feel his breath fanning her earlobe he airily whispered.

“Let me give you a heads-up dear, they’re all dead. Burned down to mere ashes in the wind. There’s absolutely no trace left of them as if they never existed in the first place, an illusion in the darkness of the night.”

He moved away from her and basked at the thrill of having the precious member of NCT right under his fingertips, playing with her as if she was a puppet. He had waited for so long to break the news to her, to start breaking her inside out, shattering her mind and soul little by little, shredding her hope and stomping on it right before her eyes.

“No. You’re bluffing. Your dirty tricks won’t get to my head, they won’t work on me so you can shove them up your ass and choke on them.”

Her voice started to rise in volume and her throat restricted her from showing a firm voice as her words wavered at the end, cracking under the pressure of the sky falling atop of her shoulders, draining her soul of any fight left deep inside her, shielding her hope.

“Am I really? Unfortunately, as I said no trace of them is left so I can’t show you the downfall of your world. You’ll have to trust me on this, darling. But I can tell you for sure I enjoyed watching Taeyong lose everything, God, you should have seen the look in his eyes as he finally realized he was doomed, absolutely delightful.”

Y/N wanted to rip Ji-won to shreds. Even just talking about her leader like that ignited her rage and she wanted nothing more but to let it burn, to swallow the man before her up and drag him to the deepest pits of hell. His words couldn’t be true, there was simply no way she would believe them. Taeyong couldn’t be gone. NCT couldn’t be gone. They were her guardian angels, they wouldn’t have left her alone in the Earth version of hell, she couldn’t bear the thought of going on without knowing they’re alive.

“Already giving up? And here I was, thinking you’ll put up a fight, let us have some fun taming beasts like you.” Y/N gritted her teeth, but she could feel her desire to keep fighting slip away like grains of sand in the wind’s breeze. The only thought that gripped the last strands of her hope was the possibility of Ji-won lying in hopes of making her give up. And in this case, she couldn’t let him win. She wouldn’t allow herself to slip away as long as she had the slightest chance of being back in her boys’ arms, tucked warmly into safety.

“Come closer, let me also give you a heads-up,” Ji-won leaned down slightly, his face at the same level as hers, regarding her with a degrading look, as if sensing her resolve starting to dissipate “if I’m a beast, then you’re just mere pray.” Y/N muttered harshly and spat in his face before his head snapped away. It was her time to smirk as his content expression morphed into one of anger, his composed state shattering, letting rage surface.

Ji-won couldn’t contain the forceful punch he sent to Y/N’s face and neither did he try to. He gathered all of his strength and swung as hard as he could as his fist connected with the soft skin of her cheek with such power that is tipped the chair over, making it collapse. Y/N hissed at the contact with the hard floor of the basement she was held in and heard a sickening pop come from her shoulder before throbbing pain spread through the entire area, making her dizzy. She knew this was barely considered mild and just the beginning of what was about to come her way. She closed her eyes, letting the pain settle and trying to come to terms with the inevitable fate that awaited her.

Y/N could hear Ji-won’s steps as he came closer to her, the tip of his shoe slipping under her cheek and craning her neck to look up at him. She kept her eyes narrowed, regarding the man towering above her with utter disgust to disguise the discomfort she felt in her shoulder mainly.

“I’m going to say this slowly since it seems like your brain is struggling to acknowledge your situation. You are doomed, little girl. The only one who will wish for death is you, you’ll beg for it in no time. But we won’t allow it, no, you’ll have to suffer, we’ll shred you of any sanity left in you, we’ll break you into millions of pieces both physically and mentally, just wait, The show starts tonight, we’ll have a lot of fun together, Y/N.”

Her name rolled off his tongue with repulsion and his tone assured her that he would religiously keep his promise towards her and somehow it reminded her of Haechan and how the situation seemed so twisted that it made Y/N want to throw up. Her worst enemy just promised her he would rip the little things she still had left away from her, strip her of her humanity and in a sick way Y/N was sure he won’t go back on his words. Haechan promised her Heaven, safety, and love, but all she received were deceiving words and agony.

With a last forceful nudge of his boot against her cheek, Ji-won turned his back to her and left her cell, the guards locking the door behind themselves. While Ji-won waked away from her sight, most likely back into the house, the two guards stayed unmovingly outside her cell, keeping a careful eye on their prisoner while going back to chatting about their victory.

Finally left alone, to drown into her own thoughts, Y/N suffocated into the nightmare she was forced to fight through. The pain in her body seemed to fade away as her emotions were unraveling from the cage she kept them locked in and the real turmoil surfaced. Johnny promised her they were safe and in turn, she promised Mark she would come back to them. She could only bitterly guess both promises were meant to be broken. Y/N let poisonous tears escape from her tightly closed eyes, in an attempt to lessen the venom nestled inside her soul. Just the thought of never seeing her family again overwhelmed her exhausted heart and sunk it to the bottom of a drained ocean.

And Haechan. He literally broke her in half. A half that hoped everything was just a twisted joke and her soulmate would swoop right in and end her hell and a half that wanted to bring hell to him. Betrayal simply wasn’t a word in their dictionary because who would betray family, the only ones who pulled you up out the frightening darkness that enveloped you when everyone else turned their backs on you. Taeyong was the only one who saw a fighter in them instead of a person too broken to function again and the only one who defied anyone who dragged down his family. So Haechan’s betrayal was almost impossible to swallow and Y/N hoped she wouldn't have to.

Just like that, Y/N was forced to wallow in her own devastating hurt, turning her fate on every side possible as if rolling a dice that had already decided her outcome.

And what a show had been given to her, one that made Y/N want to detach herself from her body and float above the world, far away from the cruelties hidden down in the basement that had her name imprinted on it by now. Every visitor made sure to give her their worst, crack her physic and spirit little by little, piece by piece until she was left as a used doll on the dirty floor, an old toy that was starting to bore their owner. Y/N knew she was disposable, a mere punching bag for the heartless captors, but she didn’t have it in her to care anymore, taking everything with dull eyes and a blank mind.

“Y/N!”

Said girl snapped her head up, meeting Mark’s eyes filled with entire galaxies, crinkles at the corners showing such pure happiness it seemed only characteristic for an innocent child who hadn’t had the time to experience the world’s true merciless nature. Mark started walking towards her hurriedly and the bright smile on his face seemed to darken with every step closer to her until his light strides turned into a full-blown sprint. He seemed to struggle to reach her, but he only got further away the more he frantically called for her, dragged in the opposite direction by an imaginary force that insisted on keeping them apart.

The arm around her only tightened, pinning Y/N to her spot despite the panic-stricken feeling settling in her chest and putting pressure on her airways. Y/N could only look up and drown in Haechan’s warm honey pools which only hauled her further into her daze. His face was so so close to hers and his breath tickled her cheeks as she swirled into the warmth of his embrace, Mark’s shouts fading away in the distance, Y/N’s sole focus remaining on the boy before her, stealing her common sense and leaving her foolishly in love.

“You know how much I love you, right? You know I’d give up the world, trade the sun and all the stars for a second with you, that every breath taken away from you is a breath wasted for me, right?”

Haechan’s other hand, moved gently to reach her face and brushed against the apple of her cheek, letting his thumb run softly over the skin under her eyes as he took her in, absorbing her entire being and bottling her in his heart to stay as his reason to be.

“Y/N!’

This time Mark’s voice was impossibly close, echoing in her ears, shaking her up. Y/N let a shiver run through her entire being at the desperation laced in his voice. She instinctively moved her head to try to catch a glimpse of Mark, whose voice died again, muffled by her own heartbeat. But Haechan’s hand didn’t allow her to take her eyes away from himself as if losing her attention for a moment would shatter him. His smile stayed, warming up Y/N inside out and she was sure the sun was shying away from Haechan’s own bright aura that seemed to dominate over the world. What seemed to slip away was the calmness in his eyes which turned more and more distressed, screaming for more time, for another needed moment with Y/N, his beginning and his end.

“Please Y/N. You have to know.”

As Haechan’s face contorted in anguish, Y/N’s only emotion was confusion. Why didn’t the butterflies in her stomach go crazy anymore at his words? Why didn’t she fear the motive of his raw desperation? Why did she want to reach out and allow herself to be engulfed by Mark’s embrace more than she wanted to stay tucked under Haechan’s arm? Why did her heart hold so tightly onto her love for Haechan when all she wanted was to let go?

A harsh kick to her stomach snapped her eyes open.

“Already giving up, mutt?”

All Y/N wanted was to slip back into herself, allow her mind to run free with the desire to see her friends again, but she knew it wouldn’t be possible as a second kick, even more powerful, was directed at her once again.

“You’re becoming boring. It was fun breaking you, but now you’re as entertaining as any punching bag, maybe even worse. It would be a great pleasure to get rid of you, but the boss won’t allow it, says you don’t deserve to be freed so soon.”

The man whose name Y/N didn’t bother learning crouched beside her, carelessly gripping her arm and lifting her in a sitting position. She slightly lifted her gaze at the sight of a white coat and scanned the boy beside the gorilla who wouldn’t give her any moment of peace ever since she arrived in this hell. He seemed barely older than her, his scrawny structure visible even through his layers of clothing. He asked the other man to move back, and stepped closer to Y/N, uncapping the jar of soothing cream he brought every time.

“You know how it goes, it’s going to hurt a bit but you’ll feel better after.”

Y/N knew, of course, she knew. He had been coming with the same jar every few days, attending to her wounds, occasionally wrapping her up if things looked worse. He never talked more than necessary and Y/N truly appreciated that, becoming used to the captors’ running their mouths 24/7, wasting oxygen with their useless words. As he rubbed his fingers coated in cream over her black and blue abdomen, Y/N caught a glint from the corner of her eyes. A roll of gauze and scissors were hidden in the pocket of his coat, in case of need. Before anyone could catch her stare, she removed it, opting to bore holes into the ground as she let the medic finish his job and leave, but not before the ultimate asshole decided to kick her back down, letting her know that “that’s your place now, kid, get used to it”.

Y/N could only grit her teeth and close her eyes in an attempt to block out the hopelessness crawling under her shirt. She clung with everything in her to her vivid dreams where Mark or some of the other boys ran to her. They never reached her, not even close, but even hearing them brought her a serenity she didn’t know she would be able to find while locked up in a cell, beaten half to death. Haechan clouded her thoughts day and night, sometimes closing up her throat at the thought that she will never get to share such moments with him. She often reprimanded herself, how could she still hang onto Haechan when all he did was betray her and their family, how could she still care about him when the entire world told her everyone else was dead because of him.

“Y/N you stupid, stupid girl.”

She could only murmur under her breath, struggling to keep herself sane as she slipped into another light sleep filled by fruits of hope with the bitter taste of betrayal.

It was dark this time and no matter how hard she tried Y/N couldn’t distinguish anything before her. And the one calling for her was Haechan. He was near, very near, a breath away from her. His voice was hushed, only calling her name repeatedly before a shake of her shoulder forced her eyes open.

“Thank God, you scared the shit out of me.”

Y/N’s eyes snapped up bewildered before they connected with Haechan’s. It took her several moments before she could confirm she wasn’t dreaming and he was actually beside her, towering over her with a gentle hand laid over her shoulder as if he was afraid she’d shatter if he applied any more pressure. Instead of the honey pools that taunted her every time she closed her eyes, Haechan’s eyes were glazed over, hidden behind an invisible veil that kept his emotions at bay as much as it could.

Y/N let her head drop back down, having no interest in talking to him, especially in her powerless position.

“Y/N, talk to me, I need to know you’re still there.”

“What do you want me to say, Haechan?”

Her voice was hoarse from days of not talking, the only sounds coming out of her mouth being whimpers and occasional screams when the men got rougher with their treatment during their bad days. Y/N spat the name she rarely used for him except during their missions with such venom laced in the word that Haechan was still taken aback despite his already low expectations.

“I just..I need to hear you. I want to explain everything when I’ll have enough time. I need to-”

“Is it true?”

“What?”

“What they keep telling me, that they’re dead.” She didn’t need to elaborate for Haechan to understand what she was referring to.

“Y/N, you have to understand-”

“I’m done with your half-assed bullshit, tell me the truth for once.”

Her words only served to twist the dagger deeper into Haechan’s bleeding wound and he knew he deserved it and plenty more.

“Yes. It’s true, they’re all gone. But Y/N please listen to me, I didn’t do it just because I wanted to, I would never, I swear. You have to believe me, please Y/N.”

He glanced at her, but the sight of her scared him even worse. He saw her at both her best and her worst, attached to the hip every moment of their lives, but never had he seen her like that, so disconnected from everything around her, so lost in her own thoughts.

“Haechan, the five minutes are ending!”

“I’ll be right out!”

Haechan shakily lifted his hand from her shoulder to her head, brushing away strands of her hair from her face and lightly cupping the back of her head with such care that even the moon would stop in awe to admire the heartbreaking moment before two broken lovers cursed to suffer away from each other.

“Love, please don’t give up, as selfish as it sounds. I need you.”

With a quick brush of his plush lips to her temple, a promise that Y/N could only deem empty, he lifted himself up and rushed out of her cell while he could still control his burning desire of keeping her close now more than ever. His eyes followed her until he couldn’t see her anymore and sighed dejectedly when she stayed rotten to her spot, her eyes void of any trace of the old Y/N, the one he doomed to more pain than he believed anyone could carry. But if he was sure of one thing, he could swear that the pain in his chest would be enough to snap the mountains apart and drain any sea as he was forced to leave the core of his soul behind once more.

Time seemed to pass slower than ever and Y/N could only mull with a bittersweet aftertaste of nostalgia the rare free days she used to spend with her boys back at their headquarter, the way she used to complain about the members’ habits. Oh how bad she missed those times and how she wished she could go back to Taeyong’s arms cuddling her against his chest, playing with strands of her hair or Johnny’s manner in which he threw her over his shoulder and paraded around the house, mocking her shouts in a high pitched voice, but with an affectionate twinkle in his eyes. Her chest ached with the burning desire of spending countless nights in Mark’s room, exchanging lyrics ideas and listening to the soothing hum of his guitar towards the early hours of the morning.

And God, the way she missed Haechan’s childish pouts that never failed to melt her heart and the way he used to nuzzle his nose against the crook of her neck, the feathery brush of his lips along the length of her throat as the fluffy locks on top of his head tickled her cheek every time he moved in their embrace.

All these seemed like long lost memories, buried at the back of her mind, fogged over by her pain. Over time, Y/N learned the pattern of the changes the guards outside made, she learned that the presence of a flashlight in their hand meant it was nighttime, she learned that they deemed her weak enough to leave her with only one bored guard who more often than not didn’t even glance in her direction as he leaned his back against the bars and went on with his life.

Y/N was pulled out of her thoughts by the medic who unlocked her cell, once again coming to check up on her. This time he was alone, the guard outside only watching him enter before returning to his business. The young man approached her, crouching down at her level and studying her.

“How are you feeling?”

She wanted to scoff at his ridiculous question. It didn’t take a genius to take a right guess just by looking at her for a brief moment. But she bit her lip, murmuring her next words.

“My wrists hurt” she made a small pause, contemplating over the weight of her words “worse than usual.”

The medic watched carefully and helped her in a standing position. He hesitated a bit before slowly untying her hands, the sole rope binding her.

“Don’t make any dumb moves or you’ll regret it. I’ll put some ointment on the rope burns, it should alleviate the pain enough to be bearable.”

With the rope gone, he brought her hands in front of her, holding her wrists gently, before spreading the cream over the irritated skin with such care that his fingertips merely brushed against her. It was the first time in weeks since anyone has treated her so delicately and she let the thought bring tears to her eyes.

“What’s your name?”

The medic’s head snapped up and his eyes widened, taken aback by her questions. He had visited her so many times, but she never seemed interested in him, shrinking back in herself every time he came close.

“Why are you asking?”

“Am I not allowed?”

He turned his attention back to her wounds that he was sure were nothing in comparison to the real damage brought on her body, but he stayed quiet and continued treating her. Y/N thought he was going to ignore her question and deflated slightly. This didn’t seem to go her way.

“It’s Minho.”

Y/N’s eyes studied him. He didn’t seem to notice her stare or just didn’t bother to look up at her.

“Minho,” he hummed, finally meeting her teary eyes, desperation creeping in her glazed over orbs “please help me.”

He sighed, knowing what kind of help she meant. He pitied her, but not enough to put himself in danger in order to help a girl he barely knew and had no future anyway.

“Y/N, it would be better if you stopped fighting, they would be more lenient with you-” Y/N shut out his words, and clenched her fists before launching herself at him, gripping the collar of his white coat, knocking him over with a loud metallic clang coming fro his medical equipment falling over.

“Please! Please, help me! Please!”

She shook him, the distressed look in her eyes shocking him for a moment.

“Hey! Sit back, bitch!” The guards slammed the door of her cell open, his angered yell echoing around the cold walls as he stomped over to them with large, angry strides.

Y/N was quick to clamber off Minho, stumbling a bit and stabilizing herself with a hand against the ground. She let herself fall back on her butt, curling herself up in a small ball to protect herself from the guard’s harsh punches that started to rain down on her, leaving sore spots scattered over her body and Y/N was sure purple bruises would adorn her body soon. She let fat tears run down her face and her body trembled with heart-wrenching sobs that were almost inaudible over the guard’s curses directed towards her. She had to keep it up.

“Stop, stop, she’s not worth it.”

Minho stretched a hand and gripped he guard’s shoulder after rising to his feet and dusting himself off. The guard turned around, arguing with Minho, insisting that he should break all of her fingers, one by one, to show her that ‘scum like her shouldn’t even be allowed to look at them, much less to dare to touch them’. Y/N could barely fight the victorious smirk that wanted to stretch her lips and took the opportunity to sneak the scissors she had gripped when she ‘stabilized’ herself inside her bands and slip them inside the elastic band of her underwear, before returning her hand over her head to seemingly shield herself.

“Leave her alone, she’s not worth it.”

“We should still teach mutts like her a lesson.” the guard growled, shooting her a disgusted glare.

“You shouldn’t waste time with her, even dogs are smarter than her, she won’t learn anything.”

The guard chuckled darkly, spitting at Y/N, missing her by a centimeter.

“You’re wrong. You’re insulting dogs by comparing her to them. She’s less than the shit on the sole of your shoes, she’s really not worth anything.”

Y/N wanted to laugh at them, spit back and crush their heads under her foot, show them the real scum, but she was smarter than that. Patience was her only friend at that moment and hand-in-hand with it she would conquer her newfound purpose.

The guard roughly gripped her wrists, a sharp contrast to Minho’s gentle touch from earlier, and forcefully brought them to her back, tying them with the rope, tightening it even more than before and smiled at the sound of Y/N’s pitiful wince of discomfort, a sadistic amusement twisting his features at the sight of her pain.

“You shouldn’t come anymore, you’re wasting useful resources to treat her.”

The guard rose again to his full height, delivered a last powerful kick just to startle the girl to his entertainment and tuned around, directing his words to Minho who only watched with a passive expression, seemingly bored by the events as he gathered everything that had fallen over earlier.

“Right.” He hummed and he caught Y/N’s eyes in a quick glance before hurrying after the guard and leaving her sight as the guard stayed behind to lock her up and plopped himself down, turning his back to her and whistling unbothered. He took out a cigarette and a lighter, lighting up one end of the stick and putting the other one between his lips, taking a long drag and releasing a large cloud of foul smelling smoke.

But Y/N mulled over Minho’s look. His eyes were slightly narrowed, as if searching her, trying to penetrate through her act. Had she seemed too desperate for him to believe her? But she didn’t feel like she exaggerated, it was nothing a prisoner wouldn’t beg for once meeting a kind enough person. Had he noticed the small pair of scissors that disappeared? But he had so many and the one she stole was smaller than her palm and she had never seen him use it. Y/n could only pray the facade she put up and the show she conveyed to strengthen it was enough to buy her time to make her final move.

Despite her worries and the pain and numbness overcoming her tired body, Y/N let a twisted smile creep on her face as she leaned her head back against the wall. Her eyes stared unfocused in the darkness, finally feeling accomplished with herself in a long time. Maybe her acting skills weren’t so rusty after all. So many fake tears and meaningless words thrown around almost choked her up, but she did what had do be done in order to prove herself that their work along the years wasn’t in vain, that she wouldn’t let NCT go down without a fight, vanish without a trace before they burnt down the world around them. Sure, the fact that most of the people surrounding her during her stay in the cell had smaller brains than a pigeon’s and their common sense was worse than that of a headless chicken, but these only made things easier for her.

Y/N was done. She was done with her filthy cell, done with the assholes who kept on talking down to her as if they were meant for anything more than dumb guard dogs, done with the sickening mind games they thought would break her. But more than anything, Y/N was done with letting anyone, Haechan or not, betray her family and get away with it.

If that disgusting man got anything right in his entire life, it was that Y/N had no future. Her life had ended at the same time NCT vanished. She had nowhere to go, no one on her side and for the second time in her life, she was alone. She was left alone, a lost soul trudging tiredly through the dark columns of her life, admitting that this time it was truly over for her. While when she was a little girl a guardian angel found her and took her under his wing, introducing himself as Taeyong and welcoming her in their self-made family, this time no one was coming. And frankly, she made peace with the idea, reuniting with her boys after a long, painful fight that finally exhausted her. Y/N was ready to give up, she had no means to escape or to go on living in a world where they were gone. It simply made no sense to her.

She only had to wait for the next night to make things right, to honor Taeyong’s golden rule. ‘Traitors are less than rats. They have no place on Earth.’ And Y/N swore to make sure to fulfill his words or die trying. She swore to ruin Haechan in any way possible, to watch the light fade from his eyes as desperation clouded his features, before crumbling herself in Taeyong’s protective embrace. She would bring the ones who dared to harm her family their very much deserved end, serve it to them on a plate and shove it down their throats with no mercy, let them slowly choke with it as she watched them fade away with eyes that regained their sparkle for one last time before joining her awaiting family.

That night, all Y/N could dream about were the bright smiles on her members’ faces that put the sun itself to shame and warmed up her soul every time she could catch a glimpse of them. All she could feel was the comforting warmth radiating off their bodies and enveloping her and their sparkling eyes with countless galaxies that reflected happiness so pure that angels swooned over the serenity that seeped through them.

All Y/N could believe in was their endless love that held no barriers.

Hours of waiting chopped at Y/N’s sanity little by little as she had to swallow down the adrenaline pumping through her body. The pain in her body felt like a mere memory, only stirring her lack of patience even more. The moment her eyes caught sight of the new guard lowering himself beside her cell, sticking a flashlight in his pants pocket, her blood started pumping with excitement. She felt as if she was about to burn up, explode in huge flames impossible to hold back from swallowing down the entire world.

Y/N spent the time in which the man kept shuffling around to edge out the pair of scissors from her pants and twirl it around her fingers, etching it into the rope and slowly but surely cutting the rough material. She kept her movements minimal and as silent as possible, making sure that her plan wouldn’t be stopped so early on. She couldn’t allow that. Y/N only had one chance and she made sure she didn’t need any more.

Despite the madness running through her veins, poisoning her blood, her mind was completely clear, no fog clouding it over. Her eyes were sharper than ever, focusing solely on her goal, pushing her feelings aside for the time being. The rope came off, slowly slipping off her sore wrists, but she made no movement to change from her position on the ground, waiting for any sign that the guard might have heard anything out of the ordinary, but he was as oblivious as ever, a mindless pig confined in a slaughterhouse.

As Y/N started crawling towards the bars that kept her locked for weeks that dragged on, her body resembled that of a cat. No sounds came from the impact of her hands and knees with the ground and her torso was fluid, balancing her movements. Years of training paid off more than ever as she inched closer and closer to her freedom with her savior clutched tight between her fingers, some mere scissors, smaller than her hand and so frail she was afraid that they would break under the pressure of her grip. But they were enough, sharp just like her mind, sharp enough to easily go through rope and skin, small enough to wedge between the thick bars and maneuver them with no difficulty. And that was more than enough for Y/N.

She was a breath away, close enough to feel the smell of sweat rolling off his body. Y/N stayed as still as a statue. Was she hesitating? No, she felt no desire to turn back, none at all, but she needed a moment to calm herself down, regulate her temper before hell could break loose and her hidden demons could surface and swallow up any mercy left in herself. Her hand slightly trembled as she leaned closer to the man with a slight smile. She blew a feathery breath on the man’s neck, teasing him as a starting point of insanity that followed and before he could turn around, she clamped a hand over his mouth, muffling the chocked gasp escaping his chapped lips and plunged the scissors in his neck, right in his artery. It didn’t take long before he slumped against the bars, taking a ragged last breath and going limp as crimson liquid painted his skin and clothes. trailing to the ground.

Y/N released him before rummaging through all of his pockets and found the key to her prison. She was still trembling slightly as she unlocked the door to her newfound freedom on unsteady feet. Once stepping outside, Y/N felt a sudden surge of power, she felt unstoppable now that she wasn’t confined like a caged bird, longing for her wings to be freed. She stared at the dead guard on the floor as she shook her feet, trying to regain feeling in her legs faster. He was the first, the beginning of the end.

Y/N crouched beside him, looting everything she deemed useful. The handgun she knew all guards kept in their belt was the first thing that settled almost comfortably in her palm, along with the beloved scissors that she wiped on the man’s shirt before she tucked them in the pocket of her pants. But she knew he had another necessary thing on him. She calculated every move and there was no way she had mistaken the man. And as thought, she didn’t. She quickly found a pack of cigarettes buried inside the pocket of his jacket along with a lighter. Bingo! She also slipped the lighter in her pocket and mockingly patted the man’s head with a pout. She wasn’t kidding when she said she would burn down their entire world.

“Aw, thank you, you should be proud of yourself for being useful for once.”

Her words were acid, whispered to ridicule the almost too easy way she escaped what he must have thought would be her future grave. Jokes on him.

Her eyes burned through the darkness that awaited her. She couldn’t risk using a flashlight, it would give away her location too easily, but she didn’t really need it either. She had been kept in the dark for so long, both literally and figuratively, that she had gotten used to it, her eyes adjusting naturally to the lack of light. She roughly knew that the sleeping rooms must have been upstairs from the two guards’ conversation she had heard once, so she had two flights of stairs to go through, from the basement to the main floor and then upstairs. And then the fun was about to begin.

She gripped the handle of the gun tighter, her bare feet soundlessly gliding on the floor as her inner turmoil only edged her more towards the free fall that she knew was inevitable. She was ready to embrace it, leave herself float weightlessly over the clouds and allow the gentle rays of sunshine caress her tired soul as a mother would soothe her child after reuniting after a long day, but not before meeting Haechan. Not before giving him a piece of her suffering and watching him struggle to his end with it as Y/N merely watched her once lover vanish to nothing just like he forced her to.

She wanted nothing more but to free herself from the agony Haechan impelled on her and then dared to ask her to hold on for him. He was a gone man in her eyes, a flat lifeline, the furthest thing from how she used to deem him, a lighthouse that guided her through the frightening darkness of herself, holding her hand through everything and enveloping her in sweet murmurs of honey-like voice that she couldn’t help but grasp onto with every ounce of her being. Haechan was her first and last, her end and her beginning, her rebirth and her doom.

“Wait for me, Haechan, wait for me, my love.”

The scenario she found herself in was oddly familiar, resembling the one hours before her universe was turned upside down unexpectedly and cruelly. The same tension that pressured her airways was present, but this time Y/N wasn’t bothered by it, her hands weren’t sweating and her vision wasn’t unfocused. She had nothing left to lose so she trudged forward almost blindly, guided by luck and helped by her sneaking skills and common sense.

The house was mostly dark, asleep in the late-night hours. The only agitation came from the large living room on the main floor. As Y/N passed by with hurried steps but vigilant eyes, she saw a fading light from underneath the closed door, accompanied by obnoxious, deep laughter coming from a few men playing poker and throwing around chips and dirty jokes.

Once she found the stairs and climbed up, she knew the hard part was coming. Haechan was behind one of the doors for sure, but she had no way to be certain about a particular one. She observed all of the doors as she passed by them. She could hear snoring from behind a couple of them, others were entirely silent. Y/N knew she only had one chance and even barely that. If she was in her right mind, she would have never taken such a risk, but now the only thing on her mind was finishing what Haechan began. And Y/N hated leaving things unfinished.

Y/N gritted her teeth as she glued her back to a wall and held her breath in hopes of hearing even the slightest hint to begin with. She knew this would be the hardest challenge of her plan, but if it meant that she would find him, she was about to go to extreme lengths. Y/N rules out the room with snoring occupants, Haechan never snored. But there were still three other rooms. She couldn’t stand in the hallway forever, in plain sight for anyone who decided to leave their room. A decision had to be made, right then and there, otherwise-

“For fuck’s sake..”

The curse was hushed, barely heard, but Y/N could recognize that voice anywhere, at any time of the day. She found him.

She walked closer to the last door on the hallway, lingering her fingertips over the doorknob as she gripped her gun tighter in her other hand. She has been waiting for that moment for such a long time that now it felt unreal, but maybe for different reasons. She noticed a faint hue of white light coming from under the door and then the muffled sound of fingers drumming lightly in a table. At that moment, Y/n remembered Haechan’s habit when listening to music, something that she found both annoying and endearing, the sound his knuckled made rhythmically against the first surface he found. And since no music could be heard, he had his earphones in. Just her luck.

She slowly twisted the doorknob, finding it unlocked as expected from the same boy that never locked any doors after him and this was the first time Y/N wanted to congratulate him for it. She admired him from the back for a second, clad in his sleepwear and lounging on a chair while furiously typing on his computer with music blasting in his ears. What a comfortable life he led while she was drained physically and mentally in a cell smaller than a storage room, oh how lovely.

Y/N smiled sweetly and raised the gun, aiming straight at his head as she locked the door behind her with a soft ‘click’. Her free fingers then found the switch and with excitement running high in her blood, she turned the light on. She smiled even brighter, her gun following Haechan’s frenetic movements as he ripped his earphones out and turned around in his chair in a flash, coming face to face with his former lover, the one he coincidentally betrayed.

“How the hell? How...”

His voice wandered off, reality kicking in.Y/N’s heart started beating faster, but not from fear or resentment for aiming her gun at who she once deemed her missing piece, no. It trembled with an anger she had never felt before, one she tried so hard to control she worried it would leak over and ruin the scenario she dreamed of every night behind those bars.

“Surprised to see me, dear? I had to go such a long way just to find you, Haechannie.” Y/N pouted mockingly at him, enjoying the way his eyes widened in horror, but also a shocking drop of relief. He immediately stood up from his chair, taking rushed strides towards Y/N, before she tutted and put an open palm in front of her, mentioning for him to stop in his tracks.

“Not so fast, now. No need to rush after weeks of waiting, am I right?” Her voice was charming as if talking to a child, but Haechan knew the sugary surface could barely contain the storm beneath.

“Y/N, let’s talk-” He tried to take a step forward, but before he could fully move, YN’s gun made a clear clicking noise, indicating that the safety was taken off. Haechan started to sweat lightly, noticing how the finger laid over the trigger didn’t shake in the slightest.

“I’m glad we agree on that, but we’re doing it on my terms. You don’t move from the spot you’re in and you’ll put your hands up where I can see them at all times. None of these are negotiable, love.”

Haechan felt utter desperation crawl deep in his soul, taking over his entire being as he did as asked. He wanted nothing more but to touch her, feel her warm skin, her chest rising with every breath. He wanted nothing but to win her back and complete the puzzle inside him that broke the moment the back of his gun touched her temple so forcefully back at the party.

“Please, Y/N, let me explain, I would never do this on my own and no matter how hurt you are, you must know that.”

“Get to the point.”

A heavy sigh left his lips, his eyes searching hers in despair only to get blocked by a thick wall she built around herself, making her eyes so cold they could freeze over an entire ocean.

“Remember that time you were knocked out on the rooftop? On that mission we prepared for an entire month when you were caught last minute. I told you that I saved you. I lied. I was caught too, before you. They manipulated me, Y/N, they pushed a gun against your head and made me choose. To kill you or work undercover for them. What was I supposed to do? Tell them to just shoot you?”

“So you chose to betray your entire family and get us all killed?”

“I didn’t know it would get to this! Even when I was given my final mission by them, they swore not to kill you.”

“And they didn’t. They tortured me instead, stripped me of my humanity and my will to continue living. I should thank you, right?”

“All I did was to try to protect you!”

“And that worked out really well, didn’t it?”

It was so hard to keep their voices hushed enough when both of them were near their breaking point, emotions high and spilling over the edge, burning in their veins and darkening their eyes. Haechan’s presence and voice still stirred something in Y/N no one else could and she hated herself for allowing him to still hold her feelings in his palm and play with them however he desired.

“Y/N, I couldn’t sit there and tell them to shoot you. All I could think was that if they killed you, I would have been over. Everything would have been over, for me and for you. It would have been the end.”

“So you put us before everyone else.”

“Yes, Y/N, I fucking put you first, and I would do it all over again if it means you’ll get to live. You are my goddamn everything and I will be damned before I let you get taken away from me.”

“Then you are damned, Haechan.”She made a small pause as if recollecting her hazy thoughts “You lost me the moment you signed their deaths.” Both of them understood who she was referring to.

His eyes lost focus for a moment, his lips parted in astonishment. He had to make her understand. Now that she was standing a mere meter away from him he couldn’t let her slip from his fingers a second time. It wasn’t an option he could accept.

“Y/N, you don’t get it. It would have been hell, for me and for the guys too for sure. I couldn’t have lived knowing that I watched you die before my eyes helplessly, that my world shattered before my eyes and I watched the shards pierce my heart out while out story just began. Dying means nothing to me compared to losing you.”

And at that moment something clicked inside Y/N’s brain. She believed Haechan at that moment, she believed that the knowledge of her being alive meant more to him than his own steady breathing. She believed Haehcan when he said that he would walk through a burning hell and wilt slowly every day without his own oxygen. She believed Haechan.

And that’s why she switched the aim of her gun from Haechan’s forehead to her own, pressing the cold barrel to her temple, right where a former bruise from his own hit had faded a while ago.

Y/N had to admit, in all the years she’s known Haechan, she had never seen such agony twist his face. His eyes had never been darker and more fueled by such raw desperation that it almost made her tremble. The pain in his features could make mountains bow their peaks and poke through Haechan’s heart to feel it bleed tears. He could barely keep himself from reaching forward and aggressively snatch the weapon away from his love, scold her into next week from ever considering bringing it so close to her face.

“Y/N no, anything but that. Please, stop this, you’ve come so far, I’ll help you escape, I’ll run away with you, we’ll start over, just please. Please not this.”

He was almost sobbing, breathless from the waves crashing down on him, drowning him in regret and hopelessness.

“I don’t want any of that, Haechan. You lost me when you betrayed us and I lost myself when I lost you.”

“You didn’t lose me, you’ll never lose me.”

“Not only you, Haechan. Maybe you were the biggest piece of my heart, but the rest were pieces too. And too many of them are missing to still be considered a heart.”

He couldn’t lose the fight, he couldn’t back off, but he could see just how much he had hurt her. He wanted only the best, but he could only watch as Y/N withered away and he was left scrambling around, trying to gather the fragments of a broken soul.

“You can’t do this to me. You promised me that night that you’ll always love me no matter what. You promised, Y/N! You promised!”

His voice cracked under the pressure of losing her. He couldn’t grasp the concept of this being the last time he sees her eyes, the two galaxies that brought him such euphoria whenever he caught a glimpse of them. He couldn’t accept letting her go after everything, watching his own sun pale before him and go out, leaving no trace behind her for Haechan to hold onto.

“I did promise and I still love Donghyuck. I still love the Hyckie who fake cried with me the first time I had to get stitches, who danced with me at midnight after I had to kill someone to survive just to calm me down, who held the world in his palm but still smiled like a kid. I still love him and I’ll love Donghyuck until my heart bleeds out of love. But I don’t love and I have never loved the monster who stands before me.”

He couldn’t hold it anymore. He felt himself burst with ripples of despair as rivers of tears carved their way into his skin, burning through the cracks and surfacing the real him, the one who was forcefully thrown aside and crumpled. His soul seared through the breaches and begged for anything, for another chance, for another life, for his lover.

Y/N felt a single tear slip down her face too, a lone drop that encased her suffering, the loss of her family, her soulmate and herself, a regretful goodbye that echoed through their bodies painfully.

“Y/N please, please, anything, I’ll do anything., just please...”

His words got lost in between his sobs as he could barely hold himself from falling apart. He couldn’t do it, not anymore.

Shuffling could be heard from the other side of the door, hurried steps and even voices. They were loud, but neither Y/N nor Haechan seemed to care about them too much, imprisoned in their last shared moment, a silent confession tying the two of them. But Y/N knew she had to hurry. She had never backed down and this wasn’t the moment to.

“Haechan,” He was already gazing at her, eyes swimming in tears made of piercing stardust and broken bonds, “tell Donghyuck I’ll always love him.”

He shattered. He snapped apart as she closed her eyes and he couldn’t contain his movements as he jerked forward in a desperate attempt to protect her one last time, now from herself.

But he was a moment too late as two loud bangs shook the entire room and deafening silence followed.

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actress4him · 4 years

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Whumptober 2020 - Day 31

This is it! The very last post of Whumptober, and the long-awaited sequel to Day 8! If you're brand new to this whump party and haven't read it yet, you'll want to go back and do so before diving into this monstrosity. And when I say monstrosity I mean, it's looooooong. I wanted to do it justice and give you guys the ending you deserve, which...I'm hoping I pulled off. I'm not used to posting stuff so soon after writing it, without re-reading and editing over a period of time! Anyway, it wasn't one that I could easily just say, oh and they rescued him and put him in a pod and they lived happily ever after, because there was a whole bunch of emotional stuff everyone had to deal with, too. Thus the length, and the postponing of this post so I could actually finish it.

That said, this is actually more angst than it is whump, but hopefully there's enough whump to satisfy and hopefully it's a satisfying way to end the month. Enjoy!

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Day 31 (No. 29 and Alt. 7) - Reluctant Bedrest/Found Family

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Warnings: fantastic racism, self-hatred, death mention, blood, referenced animal attack, fever, infection, hallucinations, needles, panic attacks, suicide ideation

It had been nearly a week since they abandoned Keith. Discarded him, like garbage. Dropped him off on some deserted planet like some people back on Earth used to drop off animals that they didn’t want to have to take care of.

Shiro had always hated those people. Now he was one of them.

Except worse, because this wasn’t a puppy they had dumped on the side of the road, this was a hu-...okay, well only partly a human being, but a person, nonetheless. The person that he had seen as the little brother he never had for the past several years that he had known him. The person that he had sworn, even if only internally, to look after, always.

And sure, it wasn’t like it was his idea, but he had still let it happen. Yeah, if he had tried to fight it, Allura probably would have locked him in his room and done it without him. But he should have fought anyway. He should have let them drag him away like they had Keith that day they found out he was part Galra. Maybe they would have thrown him in a cell, too. Maybe then he’d actually be able to look at himself in the mirror now.

They wouldn’t have, though. He was human. He was trustworthy.

So trustworthy that he had turned his back on his brother, all for the sake of Voltron and the universe.

That was the lie he had been telling himself, the one thing that had kept him from jumping in his Lion and going after Keith for days. The universe needed Voltron. Therefore, the universe needed him. He was the leader of Voltron, he couldn’t just abandon the rest of the team and disobey the Princess’ orders for the sake of one man. Being a defender of the universe meant having to make sacrifices and hard choices.

And maybe all of that was actually true, but it was only half the story. Keith needed him. As the leader of Voltron, he should be setting an example for the rest of the team to follow, and should be able to make decisions for the good of every team member without being threatened and overruled by the Princess. Being a decent person who could live with his own choices meant not going against his own promises and ideals.

He knew all of that. But both sides seemed true, and which side seemed more important changed by the second.

To top it all off, the team had practically fallen apart since leaving Borulmyte. Not only were they down a Paladin, unable to form Voltron, but hardly anyone was speaking to each other unless forced. Allura was sulking because her father’s Lion wouldn’t accept her. Hunk, who had never seemed all that happy with the idea of kicking Keith out, seemed depressed. Pidge had pretty much locked herself in her room, he assumed furiously searching for any sign of her family. Lance was, as always, hard to get a read on, but he was noticeably quiet and stoic whenever he happened to appear. Coran had barely spoken a word the whole week.

And Shiro? He couldn’t stand to be around any of them. They were the ones who had done this to Keith. Sure, a couple had made weak arguments on his behalf at the beginning, but in the end they had all caved to Allura’s wishes and turned on him. He blamed them just as much as he blamed himself for sitting here in the comfort of the Castle while Keith...who even knew? At the very least he was alone and probably scared, even though he’d never admit that. At the worst, he could be struggling to survive, dying at that very moment, and none of them would ever know.

Whichever it was, he didn’t deserve it.

Coran had called a meeting on the bridge for something he said was urgent. It was probably another distress call, though the last one - the only mission they had attempted that week - had gone so terribly that Shiro wasn’t sure if they should even bother trying again. Running a smooth, successful mission is awfully difficult when no one wants to speak to each other, much less work in sync.

Usually he was the first one to arrive for meetings like this. Well, except for maybe Keith, but that wasn’t a thought he wanted to dwell on right then. This time, when he finally dragged himself to the bridge, the others were all already there, though none of them looked happy about it. Unlike in the past, when he always tried to keep up everyone’s morale by being focused and enthusiastic himself, no matter how he actually felt, now he didn’t bother. Crossing his arms, he let his face rest in exactly the scowl he was feeling.

“What is this about, Coran?”

“Yes, I would like to know as well.” Allura’s brow was furrowed, clearly not happy at being left out of the loop.

The orange-haired adviser wrung his hands, staring down at the floor. “Well, it’s...this is difficult to say. But…” Drawing in a deep breath that puffed out his chest, he finally looked up, catching each of their gazes. “I’ve been keeping something from you. It’s about Number F-...Keith. It’s about Keith.”

Keith’s name had practically become forbidden, so of course it automatically caught everyone’s attention. Shiro unfolded his arms and stepped forward. “What about Keith?” he demanded.

Coran’s eyes darted back to the floor. “He gave us messages to pass on to each of you. Before we left Borulmyte.”

“Coran!” Allura hissed.

“No, Princess.” The response took everyone in the room by surprise, including Allura if the expression on her face was any indication. None of them had ever heard Coran speak that way to her, especially not to tell her no. He took another breath and seemed to steel himself. “You know that I have always served the royal family willingly, and that I see you like a daughter. I would follow you anywhere. However...you are still young. A great burden has been placed on your shoulders, and you have done extraordinarily well with it. But sometimes you make mistakes, and this, my dear...this has been a grave mistake.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that we never should have left the boy behind. Galra or not, he has never proven himself anything but the most loyal of paladins, and yet we have punished him for a crime he did not commit.”

Shiro was torn between feeling relief that someone besides him was saying it, and anger that it hadn’t been said sooner. “Why didn’t you speak up when I was trying to convince them all of this same thing days ago?”

Coran flashed him a guilty expression. “Because I was too much of a coward. I didn’t want to speak against my Princess, even though I knew what she was doing was wrong.” Squaring his shoulders, he looked around at the other paladins again. “But regardless of what anyone else thinks or decides, I can do this. I can fulfill the boys’ last request before he was left behind.”

Something in Shiro’s gut twisted at that statement, and he could see some shuffling of feet and shifting of positions around him that pointed to the others feeling the same way. No one liked to be reminded of what they had done.

“Fine,” Allura finally spat. “Do what you must to clear your conscience.” She crossed her arms and leaned back against the console with a huff.

“First to Number Two...Hunk.” Coran gave the Yellow Paladin a gentle smile. “He wanted you to know that he would miss your cooking, especially the brownies you made for him.”

That was all it took for Hunk to start crying, though he said nothing in reply.

“Lance, he said to tell you that he never hated you, that you annoyed him sometimes but were a good friend, too.”

If Shiro hadn’t been intently watching, he might have missed the way Lance’s eyes widened before he ducked his head and scuffed his sneaker into the floor.

“Pidge, your message was that he really, really hopes you find your family. And that he kept meaning to tell you he thinks you’re doing great with your bayard.”

Her eyebrows pulled in tight at the first part, but at the second she blinked as if surprised and looked away.

“And besides his message to the Red Lion that he would miss her, and to us, thanking us for the opportunity to fly her…” He turned to stare at Allura for that, and she couldn’t hold his gaze, either… “That leaves you, Shiro.”

The other messages had already left him ripped open, so he wasn’t really sure how he was supposed to handle one meant just for him.

Coran lips pursed into a sad smile. “‘Just tell him I love him.’”

He felt as if all the walls came crashing down on him all at once. He loved him. Of course he did, he knew he did, they had always treated each other like brothers. But he had never said it. And now he had, and it was after Shiro had allowed him to be kicked out of the place they had all come to see as a home.

Spinning on his heel, he marched toward the door without a word.

“Shiro, wait, where are you going?”

If it had been any of the others, he might have just ignored them. But it was Hunk, so he at least threw the answer over his shoulder. “I’m going to get Keith.”

“Shiro -!”

“No!” This time he whirled around, sending all of his fury in a glare toward Allura. “I’m done letting you tell me how I should treat my little brother! I am going to get Keith, not the Galra, but our friend, the Red Paladin, the strongest and bravest and most loyal person I know, and no one is going to stop me! If you don’t want us back here, fine. I don’t care. Find yourself new Red and Black Paladins. But I won’t leave him down there a second longer.”

It was unclear whether Allura even knew what to say to that, but before she had the chance Hunk piped up again. “I’m coming with you! Erm, if...that’s okay.”

Shiro spared him a small smile. “Of course it is.”

No one said anything as they left the room. Hunk jogged a little to catch up to Shiro’s long, quick strides before matching his pace.

“I was a coward, too, like Coran said. Which, you know, isn’t really anything new, just...me being a coward isn’t usually at the expense of one of my friends. I was scared, to start with. Of him being, you know. Galra. But that’s stupid, really. Galra Keith is still Keith.”

“Yeah. He is.” He just hoped he was still Keith, still whole and well and not irrevocably changed, when they got to him. “I was just as much of a coward as anyone else, or more. I let the duty I felt to Voltron and the universe get in the way of the way I actually wanted to act. I should have gone after him right away.”

Hunk hummed in understanding. “Well, at least you actually stood up for him.”

They stopped off in their rooms to change into armor, then headed for Black and Yellow’s hangars. The long way, since they didn’t want to risk going back to the bridge and running into everyone else. Shiro had debated whether or not he should take Black, or just a pod, but decided that even if Allura wouldn’t let them stay, returning Black would give everyone a good chance to see Keith again and really make sure they wouldn’t change their minds.

“Since we don’t have a wormhole, it’s gonna take us a while to get there,” he told Hunk over the comms once they were situated in their Lions and starting to take off.

“I don’t mind. Just...how are we gonna find him once we’re there? I mean, he could have traveled a ways from where we...you know, left him.”

“I can track his quintessence.” The new voice took him by surprise, but not nearly as much as spinning around to find Green and Blue hovering over the Castle. “But I’ll have to be pretty close to him first. So we’ll still have to fly around for a while to try to catch a signal, then we’ll be able to narrow it down to a smaller area.”

Shiro was too shocked by their appearance to come up with a reasonable response, so he just ended up echoing, “We?”

Lance’s solemn face popped up on a video screen in front of him, followed by another with Pidge’s. “Yeah, we,” he said, mouth set in a firm line. “We’ve been stupid, and we wanna fix it. If...if we can.”

Clenching his jaw, Shiro sighed. “That’ll be up to Keith, I suppose. What kind of shape he’s in, and...whether he’ll forgive us.”

“We don’t really deserve it,” Pidge mumbled.

“No, we don’t. But let’s go ask for it anyway.”

They talked a little as they flew. It was quiet, and a bit awkward, but it was more than they had talked all week. Lance admitted that he had been having doubts ever since they left, memories of time spent with Keith haunting his thoughts. The message had just sealed the deal.

Pidge shrugged when asked about her change of heart, and quietly conceded that she didn’t think she had ever really believed he was a bad guy. She was just hurting, and he had been the perfect target to take it out on. Her desperation to find her family had blinded her.

They were several hours into a trip that Hunk calculated would take a few days when a wormhole appeared in front of them, seemingly out of nowhere. Every Lion pulled up short, exclamations of surprise echoing across the comms.

Shiro jerked his Lion around to find the Castle looming behind them. His immediate thought was that Coran had somehow taken over and caught up with them, but Coran couldn’t make wormholes.

“...Allura?”

Her voice over the comms was more tentative than he thought he had ever heard it. “I have not yet decided to trust him. But I...I have seen how passionate all of you are about this, and I am...willing to reconsider my original stance.”

It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but it was more than he had expected. He’d take it.

“Alright guys. Let’s go bring our boy home.”

The sight of the planet Borulmyte made Shiro’s stomach turn a flip. This was it. This was the place where Keith had been living for the past week. He couldn’t even imagine what it had been like for him. Allura and Pidge had done extensive research on multiple planets before deciding that this was the best one, and they had had plenty of “reassuring” things to say about it. He had always wondered, though, what they weren’t saying. Or what their research hadn’t turned up. There was no way that they could have known everything there was to know about a planet just from reading about it. “Livable conditions” didn’t mean enjoyable conditions.

“Coran and I will stay here with the Castle. Keep us updated.”

Shiro gave a nod. “Pidge, how close do you need to be to pick up Keith’s quintessence?”

“Within a few miles.”

“Alright. We’ll start at the drop off point. I’m gonna guess he would have headed east, into the forest, to find shelter.” That was the one reassurance he had about the whole situation, knowing that Keith was trained in survival skills. “We’ll head there first, and take it mile by mile.”

It took them the rest of the day. Only a fraction of that time had passed when Shiro started to run every possible horrible scenario through his mind of why they weren’t finding it, even though he knew that they probably just hadn’t hit the right spot yet.

“There!” Pidge shouted. “I’ve got it!”

Relief flooded Shiro down to his toes. “Alright. Mark this location. We’ll have to go land in the desert and fly back in the Green Lion. She’s the only one small enough to fit in that little clearing over there.

The little clearing, as it turned out, was around a creek that seemed to be clear and safe. His relief grew just a little more. If Keith had managed to end up this close to a water source, then maybe he was doing okay.

“Okay, Pidge. Lead the way.”

Hiking through the woods took almost another full day. A day in which the sun never actually rose. He hadn’t paid attention to start with, when they were still flying, because constant darkness outside had become the new norm, but now that they were on solid ground it was painfully obvious that they had yet to see light this entire time. And the temperature gauge on his helmet display was much lower than he wanted it to be. Livable? Yes. Comfortable without armor? No. He wanted to interrogate Allura and Pidge on whether they knew about this when they had chosen to send Keith to this planet, but it wasn’t the time. He had to focus on finding Keith, nothing else.

After hours and hours of walking by only the flashlights built into their helmets, during which time no one, not even Lance, dared to complain, there was finally a spike on Pidge’s quintessence tracker.

“Over here!” she shouted, taking off at a sprint through the underbrush.

The others followed, swatting branches and bushes out of their way. Any second, Shiro expected to run into Keith. Maybe sitting in whatever hideout he had found, or out hunting for food in the never-ending darkness, his eyebrows flying up in surprise when he saw them all rushing in.

Instead, when he stumbled to a halt beside Pidge, she was staring at the ground, and there was no Keith in sight.

“Pidge? What is it?”

Lifting a shaky finger, she pointed. Even before he looked, Shiro could feel his chest tightening with anxiety. And for good reason, too. The stain that was illuminated on the dirt and leaves was dried, at least a couple of days old, but it was undeniably blood. It was also concerningly large, and with the quintessence tracker crackling louder than they had heard it so far, there was no getting around the fact that it belonged to Keith.

Hunk immediately began babbling his worries, but Shiro’s heart was pounding too loudly in his ears for him to comprehend what he was actually saying. For a long moment he just stared at the bloodstain. It wasn’t until Lance stepped in closer to speak that he was broken out of his trance.

“Shiro? Do you think he’s…”

“No.” Yes. He didn’t know. It was a lot of blood. But he wouldn’t allow himself to believe that Keith was anything but okay until he saw him with his own eyes. “Pidge, is there a trail?”

She tore her eyes away to look at the screen, pacing back and forth a bit before nodding wordlessly and taking off through the bush. If her steps were a bit quicker now, no one blamed her. They just picked up their pace, too, solemn and silent other than Lance quietly updating Allura and Coran on what they had found.

Every once in a while, a small patch of dark red on a leaf or tree trunk would catch Shiro’s eye. He tried to take it as a good sign. If Keith had been able to pick himself up from whatever had happened and trek through the woods, then maybe he wasn’t too bad off. At the time. Two or more days later? It was impossible to say.

The walk from there only took a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Finally, finally, he spotted a small cave over the top of Pidge’s head, just as the tracker grew in volume and Pidge broke into a run.

“Keith? Keith!”

He was right on her heels, barreling through the opening, terrified of what he would find. And what he did see was almost exactly what he had feared - Keith, his skin far too pale under their flashlights, lying completely still on the ground next to the cold, charred remains of a campfire. There were rough slashes in his t-shirt, through which bloody scabs could be seen, and his right leg was almost entirely wrapped in large blue leaves tied off with what looked like dried grass. It didn’t take much guesswork to figure out that the sporadic dark stains on the leaves were blood.

“Keith.” Shiro was by his side without really knowing how he got there, sliding down onto his knees next to the unmoving figure. “No, no, no, no, Keith, come on, don’t do this to me.” He carded his hand through the messy black hair. “Keith, please.”

Pale lips parted, and a groan spilled out. Shiro nearly fell over with relief. Somewhere behind him, Lance was exclaiming his own relief in Spanish, while Hunk hovered just over his shoulder. Keith’s forehead, which he now noticed was coated in a sheen of sweat, furrowed, and he turned his head slightly to face Shiro before squinting his eyes open.

“Go ‘way,” he rasped, taking all of them by surprise. “‘re not real.”

“Yeah, yeah we are, buddy.” He stroked his hair again, then yanked off his glove so he could lay his flesh hand against his cheek, trying not to wince at the heat that met his touch. A fever. Whatever that wound was on his leg, it had probably gotten infected. No wonder he didn’t think they were real. “Doesn’t this feel real?”

Keith seemed to consider this, his brain probably having to work twice as hard as usual to process anything. Finally there was what seemed to be acceptance in those glazed eyes, but instead of seeming happy or confused or surprised or any of the emotions that they might have expected, he simply let his head roll back to the side and closed his eyes. “Come to...finish me off?”

“What? Keith, no, why would you think that?” Hunk exclaimed, dropping down right next to Shiro. “We came to take you home.”

“We’ve, uh...we were really terrible to you. It was really, really wrong,” Lance joined in.

Pidge shuffled her feet awkwardly. “Yeah. We, um. We want you to come back.”

“Even Allura is willing to reconsider, but whatever she decides, we're getting you out of here.” Shiro took one of Keith’s hands in his own and squeezed. “I never should have let her dictate how you were treated to start with.”

Silence fell for a moment. Keith cut his eyes up toward Shiro, not moving his head. “Knew you weren’t real.”

Pidge gave an exasperated grunt. “Keith -”

“Don’t worry about it right now.” Sliding his glove back on, Shiro straightened and got ready to pick Keith up bridal style. “He’s burning up with an infection. We’ll have to talk to him later, once he can actually comprehend what’s going on. For now let’s just get him back to the Castle and into a pod.”

Shiro scooped Keith up gently into his arms, causing him to cry out when his leg was jostled. “I’m sorry, bud,” he whispered. “You’re gonna be okay.” He didn’t at all like how light he felt, nor how gaunt his face looked. It had only been a week, but it didn’t seem like he had eaten much in that time.

Now that they knew where they were going, the walk back to the Green Lion went by quickly. Pidge flew them back to their own Lions, with Hunk and Lance towing Black to the Castle so that Shiro could stay in Green’s cargo hold with Keith. He didn’t want to let him go, couldn’t even keep his eyes off of him. He was too afraid that if he looked away, he would be gone, would succumb to his infection or perhaps just vanish into thin air. In the better lighting of the Lion, Keith looked all the more pale and feverish, his breaths coming shallow as he mumbled unintelligible words and occasionally whimpered with pain.

“What kind of injuries are we dealing with here, Number One?”

Shiro barely remembered arriving at the Castle and exiting the Green Lion, but there he was, standing next to Coran and a stretcher. Tenderly, he settled Keith down onto the padded surface. “Not sure. Maybe an animal attack of some kind? I haven’t been able to get a look at his wounds yet. He’s got a fever for sure, though, so they’re probably infected.”

Coran’s face turned grim. “That’s unfortunate. We won’t be able to put him into cryosleep until his temperature is back to normal.”

Gritting his teeth, Shiro found Keith’s hand and held it as they walked toward the infirmary. Poor kid just couldn’t catch a break. He didn’t deserve any of this. And now it sounded like when he was back to himself, they were going to have to go back through a whole three years’ worth of self-esteem boosting...maybe even more. He let out a long sigh. It seemed like he had just finally convinced Keith that he was worth loving, that he was important, that not everyone in his life was going to abandon him.

Then he sat back and let everyone in his life abandon him.

Coran sucked in a loud breath through his teeth as he peeled back the crude leaf bandages. “Yes, this is most certainly infected. And I would say that your animal attack hypothesis is correct. These look mostly like tooth marks. Quite deep.”

It looked mostly like a mangled, bloody mess to Shiro. His stomach turned, not just from the smell of the infection, and he was glad that Hunk wasn’t there at the moment. “What do we need to do?”

“Well, I’ll need to clean these. You might want to hold him down for that part.”

Keith bucked and writhed under Shiro’s hands as Coran poured antiseptic over his leg, screaming in agony. Shiro was pretty sure his heart was permanently residing in his throat now. He whispered reassurances, hardly knowing what he was saying, well aware that Keith probably couldn’t hear or comprehend any of it.

After a thorough cleaning, Coran wrapped the leg in clean bandages and pulled a thin sheet up over his waist. Shiro sank into the bedside chair, relieved beyond words that the worst part was over. They spoke very little as they went about the rest of the work that needed to be done, Coran handing Shiro the antiseptic and a clean cloth so that he could work on the claw marks across Keith’s chest, then focusing himself on preparing an IV bag of antibiotics and nutrients. Shiro gently smoothed adhesive bandages over the cuts when he was done. When he looked up, Coran was sliding the IV into place in the back of Keith’s hand.

“That should do it for now. I’m going to get a cool, wet cloth to help bring his fever down, but he should recover just fine.”

It was only then that Shiro finally allowed himself to dissolve into tears, like he had been wanting to ever since finding Keith in that cave. Burying his face in his hands, he let the tears soak his cheeks and the sobs wrack his body, uncaring for once that someone was there to see him fall apart.

A sturdy hand landed on his back, rubbing soothing circles. “There, there, lad. I know it’s been a rough few quintants, but it’ll be alright.”

“Will it?” Shiro scrubbed at his face with his flesh hand. “You should have seen him, Coran. I don’t know if he’ll ever be able to trust any of us again.”

The adviser heaved a sigh. “I don’t know, either. I’m not sure if I would be able to trust us, if the roles were reversed. But perhaps, with time, we’ll be able to prove to him that we do, indeed, care for him.”

Once Shiro had cried himself out, Coran convinced him to go change out of his armor and possibly get something to eat. He was surprised to find all three of the other paladins sprawled out on the floor just outside the infirmary, remnants of snacks scattered around them and expectant looks on their faces.

“Well? Is he...okay?” Pidge asked tentatively.

Shiro sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Physically, it seems so. He’s stable for now, at least, and Coran thinks he’ll be fine. We just have to make sure his fever doesn’t get too high.”

They all nodded slowly, seeming lost in thought. He imagined they were all thinking about the “other than physically” part that he had failed to comment on.

Hunk cleared his throat. “Is he awake?”

He shook his head. “He’s been in and out, but he’s resting pretty peacefully for now.”

“We didn’t want to, you know, be in the way,” Lance supplied. “But you can let us know when it’s okay for us to see him. Or we can take turns watching out for him.”

“Alright. I’ll let you know.” Right now he couldn’t imagine leaving his side, not for longer than he was doing right now. As he started down the hall again toward his quarters, he met another unexpected presence - Allura, lurking just around the corner from where the paladins sat, looking abnormally anxious. He stopped abruptly, not sure he was ready to see her again yet.

“I heard your update,” she stated after a moment of awkward silence. When Shiro said nothing in return, she pursed her lips. “I suppose we have some more discussions ahead of us now.”

“No. We don’t.” Allura’s eyebrows flew up in surprise, but he didn’t give her time to respond. “There’s nothing to discuss. Either you accept Keith back as the Red Paladin...and treat him just as well as the other paladins, or he and I leave. Whether or not the others stay is up to them.”

Allura’s brow furrowed, and she dropped her gaze to the floor with nothing else to say. Pushing past her, Shiro continued to his room, hurrying through changing so he could be back with Keith.

.o.0.O.0.o.

They would tell Keith later that he had been out of it for around two days before the fever broke. All he knew was that he woke up in the infirmary of the Castle with no memory of how he had gotten there, and assumed he must have been hallucinating again. He was actually a bit surprised that the wounds from that death beast hadn’t killed him yet...or maybe they had. Maybe this was some sort of purgatory or something, though the infirmary seemed like a strange choice.

It made a bit more sense when he turned his head to the right and saw Coran sitting there studying him. Seemed maybe he was going to have to face people he had failed in life before he could move on to whatever came next.

“Are you with us this time, my boy?”

Wrinkling his eyebrows at the strange question, Keith licked his dry lips with an equally dry tongue and tried to come up with something to say, but all that came out was a raspy, “What?”

Immediately Coran went into action, producing a hydration pack from somewhere nearby and holding the straw up to Keith’s lips. The cool liquid hit his throat like a slice of heaven, and he gulped greedily.

“Not too fast, now. Don’t want you making yourself sick.”

Keith nearly whined when the straw was pulled away, but he could already feel the liquid sloshing around inside of him, so it was probably for the best. Clearing his throat, he decided he could try talking again. “What am I doing here?”

“You were in pretty bad shape when the others found you. Something had torn your leg all up, and it had gotten infected. We couldn’t put you in a cryopod until your fever went down, which it seems it now has.”

His eyes darted around the cavernous white room. “So...this is real?”

The corner of Coran’s mouth tilted up. “Yes. It’s real.”

He had kinda suspected after the water. But that left one major question…“Why?”

Before Coran could respond, the door slid open, and Keith turned his head to see Shiro enter the room. The sight of his surrogate brother had him torn between happiness and a strange sense of dread, leaving him to clench the sheets in his fists and wait for some kind of reaction to come. Half of him expected it to be disgust, or anger, or maybe just an apathetic announcement of what his new punishment for existing was to be.

Instead, Shiro’s face lit up with a happy, almost hopeful expression. “Keith?”

“Wait, is Keith awake?” another voice called from the hallway behind him. Lance’s head poked through the doorway, making Keith’s stomach clench, before he turned and yelled back down the hall. “Hey guys, Keith’s awake!”

All at once the infirmary was filled with almost all the people who hated him, all crowding around his bed and staring down at him with faces he couldn’t read. They were going to hurt him. He knew they would, why else would they have brought him back here? Obviously they had changed their minds and decided they had been too lenient. What were they going to do to him? How much pain would he be in now?

He couldn’t breathe. Suddenly it felt like that beast was sitting on top of him again, crushing his chest, and he struggled to draw in air through an open mouth while tears stung his eyes. His hands shook where they were still gripping the sheets. People were talking, but it sounded as if his ears were stuffed full of cotton and he couldn’t make out any of the words.

He almost didn’t notice when the crowd above him dispersed, but it did help his breaths start to come a little easier. Only there was still Shiro, and he still didn’t know where Shiro stood on any of this. The Black Paladin sat down next to the bed and tried to grasp his hand. Keith yanked it away.

“Don’t...don’t.”

“Okay. I won’t touch you. Do you know where you are?”

Of course he knew, that was the whole problem. “Yes.”

“Okay. You’re safe now, Keith.”

Safe. Yeah, right. There was no such thing as safe, not anymore. He had thought the Castle was safe, that these people were safe, but he had been wrong. “Why?”

Shiro looked at him in mild confusion before choosing what to say. “We made a mistake, leaving you there. We -”

Keith rolled away, tucking his hands up next to his chest, cringing at the pain that still radiated through his leg. He didn’t want to hear it explained, how they wanted to punish him further. Yet at the same time, he needed to know what was coming.

“Keith…”

“Now?”

It had been a long time since Shiro had needed to interpret his one word sentences, but luckily it seemed he was still good at it. “Now you keep resting and getting better until we can put you in a pod for your leg.”

“Why?”

That one seemed to give him pause. “So...you’ll be well.”

Were they really going to prolong the torture like this? Make him get well before they did away with him? He curled up tighter. “Just...kill. Now.”

“Kill? Keith -”

“Please.”

The chair scraped across the floor, and Keith flinched. Footsteps came around the bed. He tensed, waiting for the blow. The air in front of his face stirred, and Shiro’s voice came from very close.

“Keith, can you look at me, please?” When he didn’t comply, Shiro put a hand on his fists and pulled them down so that they were face to face. “No one is going to kill you. No one is going to hurt you. You’re back on the Castle because we were wrong. They were wrong about you being untrustworthy, and I was wrong about my duty to Voltron being more important than my duty to you. I’m so, so sorry that I let them kick you out, and that I didn’t come after you sooner. You will always be more important to me than the rest of the universe. You’re my brother. I love you.”

Tears welled up in Keith’s eyes despite his reluctance to believe any of it. Tugging his hands out from under Shiro’s, he covered his face again, unable to respond.

Shiro let out a long, quiet sigh. “The others want to apologize, too, at some point. But for now you should try to get some more rest. You’re still recovering from the infection.”

He didn’t want to sleep. He didn’t trust that he wouldn’t be messed with while he was asleep. But his body decided for him that it was ready, drifting off without his permission.

.o.0.O.0.o.

Keith hadn’t really improved by the next couple of days. He slept some, he ate some, and his color and temperature seemed to be returning to normal. But he regarded everyone who came into the room with the wary stare of a cornered wild animal, and he still wasn’t speaking more than one or two words at a time, if that. Just as Shiro had feared, he had reverted back to the year that they had met, except worse.

He tried to spend as much time in the infirmary with him as he could, hoping that the company would eventually coax him into relaxing. The other paladins still hadn’t gotten their chance to talk to him. Everyone, including Shiro, was afraid their presence would trigger another panic attack. He had already nearly gone into one when Hunk had delivered his breakfast that morning, and had been extra jumpy around Coran, too.

Shiro was eating his own breakfast, trying not to focus too much on the fact that Keith’s was just sitting there untouched, when he heard a telltale sniffle. Keith was sitting up, propped on some pillows against the wall, but his head was turned away from Shiro, as was pretty common. Even so, he could see the shimmer of a tear as it streaked down his face. Setting aside his bowl, he rounded the bed and settled down on the edge, expecting the flinch that followed but still hating it.

“Talk to me, Keith.”

He didn’t expect a response at all, and especially not a long one. But Keith angrily dashed the tears away, forever hating himself for ever crying, and spoke in a hoarse whisper. “Why didn’t you just leave me there?”

Shiro’s eyes widened. “What? Why?”

“I was almost dead. It would have all been over. You should have just left me there.”

Heart aching, he scooted in closer, though Keith leaned even further back away from him. “Keith, no. We don’t want you dead. We want you here, alive and well, with us. If you died, I...I thought you were dead, when I first saw you. And it was like...it was like my heart was being ripped out of my chest. I don’t know if I could survive it.”

Keith’s face, passive up until then, creased with a look of emotional pain that Shiro could hardly stand. “But why should I live? I’m...I’m Galra, Shiro. I’m one of them. But not even really Galra, just some cross-breed freak of nature. I never should have existed. Maybe that’s why my mother walked out on me, she knew I was a freak and she couldn’t stand to -”

“Stop it. Keith, stop.” He grabbed his shoulder and shook it, not caring at the moment whether it startled him. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You are not defined by who your parents or grandparents or anyone else were. You are you. You are Keith Kogane, Red Paladin of Voltron, best pilot at the Galaxy Garrison. You’re a survivor. You’re a fighter. Not because you have Galra blood, but because the universe has thrown every hard thing that it could think of at you and you’re still standing strong.”

“I’m not standing strong, don’t you see me?” Keith met his eyes finally, a tiny bit of his old spark of anger visible. “I’m pathetic. Maybe I was the Red Paladin, maybe I was a survivor and a fighter, but right now I don’t think I can be any of those things. I don’t want to fight anymore, Shiro. I’m tired of surviving. I just want…” He broke down into tears again, covering his face with his hands.

Moving over closer, Shiro wrapped his arms around his brother and pulled him in tight. “You want what?”

Keith’s shoulders shuddered beneath him. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t trust any of them. I can’t trust any of them.”

“I know.”

For a long time, they sat together like that, Keith’s face buried in Shiro’s chest while he cried out all his tears. Shiro ran his fingers through his hair, trying desperately to come with anything he could say to comfort him.

“Do you think you could listen to them, if they come and talk to you? Just one at a time, not everyone at once. I know they’re really anxious to speak to you, and I think it might do you some good, too.” Or at least he hoped.

It took him a minute to answer. “I don’t know.”

“Okay. Well, it doesn’t have to be now. But I’d like you to consider it.”

Keith just nodded.

.o.0.O.0.o.

He had been in bed for days. The infection was all but gone, there was no longer any danger in putting him in a pod, and doing so had been brought up a couple of times. But Shiro and Coran must have noticed how he shrank into himself every time it was mentioned, because they dropped the subject and just continued to let him stay there.

He didn’t want to go in a pod. Being forced unconscious for who knew how many hours or days was just too vulnerable, and he already felt that way far too much, anyway. After all, he was stuck in bed in the middle of a ship full of people who hated him. He was pretty confident that Shiro would try his best to protect him, and Coran might, too. The Altean had taken the time to sit down and apologize to him for his role in the whole mess, and based on the way he had been treating him Keith was fairly sure he could be trusted.

But that left four others, all who had weapons, one of whom had some kind of weird magic and was literally connected to the Castle. He didn’t feel safe, and he hated it. There hadn’t been many places in his life that he had been able to truly let down his guard and feel safe. A foster home or two, though later on he had become so jaded that even the good ones didn’t feel like they would last. The Garrison to some extent, at least as long as Shiro was there.

And the Castle. Yeah, there was always the chance of an attack, and there had been the couple of times that someone had snuck on board without them knowing. But in all of those situations he had known that there were people around who had his back, people that he could count on. It was the most at home he had felt since Shiro had left for Kerberos.

Now it was those very same people that he was afraid of, as stupid and weak as that made him. The thought was almost laughable. Him? Afraid of Lance, Hunk, and Pidge? But he couldn’t get the hatred he had seen in some of their eyes out of his head. Couldn’t forget the venom in their voices. Couldn’t erase all the times he had watched them, hallucinations or not, show up in that cave with insults on their lips and weapons in their hands, ready to make him pay for the crime of being part Galra.

He didn’t want to talk to them. But he knew that Shiro really wanted him to, and that meant he would have to do it sooner or later. Maybe if he went ahead and got it over with, they’d leave him alone more, and then when his leg was healed enough that he could actually walk it’d be easier to leave. He hadn’t figured out where he was going - definitely not back to Borulmyte - or how he’d get there, but leaving was the best option for everybody.

“Will you...stay? If I let them…”

Once again, Shiro knew exactly what he was talking about, despite the question being out of the blue. “Of course. I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

Sinking back into the pillows, Keith hugged himself. “Okay.”

Shiro smiled softly. “Okay. I’ll send them a message and let them know you’re ready.”

Hunk was the first to come in. He burst into tears pretty much as soon as he walked through the door and saw Keith, and cried so much the whole time that his many, many apologies could barely be understood. It made Keith uncomfortable, if he was honest. He had never known how to deal with tears, his own or anyone else’s. But Hunk was so obviously genuine and straightforward, and he had always had a hard time believing that there was any part of such a loving person that could have held such malice.

“I get it.” It took everything in him to force multiple words out, but he knew he had to this time. “It’s hard to...stand up. When...everyone else...disagrees. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay, it’s so not okay!” Hunk blubbered. “I don’t know if it would have done any good for me to say anything or not, but I still should have done it.”

Keith nodded. “Okay. You’re right. It wasn’t okay. But…” He took a deep breath. “I forgive you.”

The way Hunk’s face lit up was totally worth the difficulty of saying the words. “Really, man? Thank you. Like, really, thank you, you don’t know how happy that makes me. I know we’ve never been, like, the best of friends, but I’ve always really wanted to get to know you better, I mean if you’d be okay with that, it’s totally up to you, but maybe sometime when you’re feeling better we can like, hang out? Also I know you haven’t been eating much right now but I am definitely making you brownies when you feel up to eating them. Like, a ton of brownies. All the brownies I can possibly make. Hey, maybe you could help me make the brownies! Cooking is such a good way to bond, I can’t believe I haven’t thought of it before! What do you think, does that sound okay? Or I mean, if you really don’t want to hang out with me at all, I totally understand that, too, I just -”

“Hunk.” Keith’s lips twitched upward slightly as the breathless Yellow Paladin finally screeched to a halt. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

Hunk beamed. “Great! Okay, I’m gonna like, go, and let somebody else come in here, ‘cause, yeah. Feel better, Keith!”

When the room was empty again, Shiro leaned over and squeezed his hand. “How do you feel?”

“Good.” He was surprised to find it was actually pretty true. A small burden had been lifted from his chest.

“Good. You ready for Lance or Pidge?”

Keith’s heart started beating double time again. “Lance.” Even though he had been more active in the process of his condemnation, Pidge’s response had hurt the worst.

The boy that came into the infirmary wasn’t the Lance that Keith knew. He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off the floor, or his hands, or anything but Keith and Shiro, and when he spoke his voice was so soft it was barely audible.

“I don’t know why I did it.” He picked at a loose thread on his jeans. “I just get...so emotional, so caught up in the moment sometimes...I’m really just as much of a hothead as you are.”

If his demeanor and apology hadn’t caught Keith’s attention, that statement did. Lance, admitting he was as bad as Keith at something? “Thought that was because...I’m Galra.”

Lance’s face pinched. “Yeah. I said some pretty stupid things. I mean…” He shrugged. “Who knows, maybe it is because you’re Galra. But still, it’s...you’re just you. And that’s okay. Maybe we don’t always get along, but I don’t really think you’re evil. I mean, I guess I kinda thought you could be. It was stupid, though. I’m an idiot, that’s what I’m getting at. There’s no real explanation, just...I’m sorry, like I said.”

Part of Keith wanted to accept that. Part of him didn’t think he could. “I...thanks. For apologizing. I think...maybe I can forgive you...soon? Maybe not yet. But, yeah. Soon.”

Lance nodded. “That’s fair. I didn’t really expect you to, like, at all, so…” He finally flicked his eyes up to meet Keith’s. “I think you and I could use to work on some things, anyway. Like, you know, not acting like we hate each other. Because I don’t. Hate you, that is. And I’m...pretty sure based on what Coran said that you don’t hate me, either.”

“No. I don’t. And yeah, that...that sounds good.”

“Okay. Good.” A brief smile flashed over his face, then he nodded again and excused himself.

“You still doing okay?”

Keith pressed his lips together. “Think so. I’m nervous, though. About Pidge.”

Shiro smiled sympathetically. “I know. Just give her a chance, ‘kay?”

Pidge shuffled into the room in a very similar fashion to Lance, eyes on the floor. She perched on the very edge of the chair that each paladin had occupied, kicking her feet back and forth since they didn’t quite touch the floor. In a low voice, she said her apology and explained that she had let her hurt over her family get the best of her, but insisted that it didn’t excuse her blaming him.

It took a moment longer than the others for him to find his words. “I remember what it was like...missing somebody. Believing that they were still out there, but not knowing for sure. I mean, it wasn’t my actual family...unless you count my mom, which...at least I knew she chose to leave. So, she’s...probably fine.” Just didn’t want him. “But Shiro is the closest thing I’ve had to family since...since my Pops. And it’s hard. I mean, I kinda went ballistic, broke into a commanding officer’s office, punched a bunch of other officers, and got kicked out of the Garrison.”

“You what?” Shiro broke in, sitting forward, then realized his interruption and sat back, waving a hand. “Never mind. Sorry. We’ll talk later.”

Pidge snickered a little, and Keith took that as encouragement to continue. “But, yeah. I know how hard it is, and I would never, never wish that on someone else.”

Her head popped up, eyes wide and wet behind her glasses. “I know you wouldn’t. I know...I know you didn’t have anything to do with it, I never should have said something like that. You...you’re right, you understand probably more than anyone else, and I…” She trailed off, ducking her head as tears spilled down her cheeks.

Once again, there was someone crying in front of him, and he didn’t know what to do. But he was pretty sure what any of the other paladins would have offered in this situation, so… “Do you, um...need a...hug?”

The next thing he knew he had an armful of Pidge, curled up on the bed next to him and leaving tears and snot all over his shirt. He patted her back awkwardly. “You’ll find them. I know you will.”

“Why are you comforting me? I’m supposed to be in here helping you to feel better, this is not how this is supposed to work!”

Keith frowned. “Um...sorry?”

Pidge glared at him, not at all intimidating with her sopping wet face. “No, don’t apologize, that’s my job, too!”

“Sorry!”

She punched him in the ribs. “You’re a good hugger. Why are you such a good hugger.”

Keith was just getting more confused the longer this conversation went on. “I...don’t know? It certainly isn’t from practice.”

Tilting her head back, she narrowed her eyes at him as if she could see into his mind. “Do you not like hugs?”

“No, I...do.”

“Then I’m gonna hug you. Every day. From now on.”

“Aw, can I get Keith hugs every day, too?”

Keith startled a little bit when he realized that Hunk and Lance had returned to the room, but forced himself to relax. This was okay. They weren’t going to hurt him. They had all been very open with him, and even though it was going to take some time, he thought he could learn to trust them again.

“I...guess?”

“Yay!” Hunk settled onto the end of the bed, and Lance took the now empty chair, folding his long legs up into it. Shiro scooted forward again to be in Keith’s line of vision.

“How are you feeling now? Think maybe you can keep surviving a little longer?”

He felt Pidge tense in his arms, and Hunk’s face froze while Lance’s went carefully blank. Keith swallowed. “Yeah. I think...maybe I’m ready for that pod now. So I can finally get out of this bed and...I don’t know, kinda figure this out all over again.”

Shiro ruffled his hair fondly. “I’m glad. We’ll all be there with you for every step, okay?”

There was one more question, though. “What about Allura?”

Shiro’s face darkened slightly. “I’ve already told her she can either treat you the same as everyone else, or we’re leaving.”

“Nah, we won’t leave,” Pidge piped up. “There’s more of us than there are of her now. We’ll just stage a mutiny.”

Keith laughed awkwardly. “Somehow I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

“I don’t think so, either, because I think she’ll come around,” Lance said. “But the point is, Mullet...we’re gonna support you.”

“You’re part of the Space Family now, dude!” Hunk cheered.

“Exactly,” Shiro smiled. “And Space Family has to stick together.”

The others kept chattering quietly, someone throwing in something about “ohana” in a weird voice, which triggered a whole conversation about some movie that he didn’t care about keeping up with. Closing his eyes, Keith let his body truly relax for the first time since before going to the Blade.

And he felt safe.

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

Thanks so much to everyone who joined me this month!!! This was my first ever Tumblr writing challenge, and it was a blast. You guys are what made it so much fun, with all the comments and likes and reblogs! Thank you!

If you want more Keith whump from me sometime in the future, you can follow me on here, on FFN, or follow the series "In which I whump Keith" on AO3...and if you haven't read Abyss yet (my first Keith whump fic!), you should check it out!

Happy Halloween and Happy Whumping!

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moonah-rose · 3 years

Text

King Takes Knight (Part 5)

Shawn gets just what he hoped for.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

(TW: Torture, captivity, ‘nails’)

This was a glorious day. Victory Day. Maybe he’ll make it a national holiday to commemorate the occasion. Every employee will have a microsecond less work to do than usual. He can be generous like that.

Shawn watches from the stage as a Bad Janet enters, bending the arm of that pesky mutated Good Janet in front of her as she marches her down the steps. Behind them are some generic demon guards who he will have to learn the names of, if only so he can reward them for grabbing a human each between them. The four irritating losers who are behind this whole mess.

He can’t help but laugh! How stupid can they be to have all come at once? Now there’s no one left to run their ridiculous experiment.

“Good evening, dickweeds!” He greets them cheerily, amused by the defeated looks on all of their faces - though Mendoza looks as gormless as ever; “So glad you could attend the show.”

“Oooh, what show? Is it Shrek the Musical?” Jason asks, lifting his chin up.

The large guard holding him gives his arm a painful tug, making the dumbass yelp like a cat with its tail caught in the door.

“I’m afraid not. But I’ll definitely be keen on making you sing soprano when I have them saw your balls off.” He gloats.

With a wave of his hand, he instructs the guards to walk the four of them forward, up the steps, and then force them to their knees at the front of the stage. The Bad Janet struts to stand next to him and Shawn allows her to give him a low five at his side in celebration.

Not that it took much effort.

“I applaud you for trying. But that really was a pathetic attempt to save Michael. You really thought we wouldn’t have Molotov-proofed the doors after last time?”

Tahani turns to tut at Jason; “Told you!”

“Well I told you guys it was a trap but none of you listened!” Eleanor hisses.

Oh, this is wonderful. He would be happy to simply lock them in a room and watch them blame and scrap with each other, just as Michael originally intended, rather than all this wholesome chummy crap that ended up happening. How ironic.

“Such a shame that Chidi couldn’t be here to join you all. I guess he’s busy getting all loved up with his fellow nerd Simone, right Eleanor?”

He grins as that hits a nerve and Shellstrop darts forward, looking to go for him, before the guard grabs her hair and yanks her back down.

“Don’t worry. I have to keep my word to the Judge, after all. So I’ll be happy to let the experiment carry on, with Chidi and the others under the ‘safe’ guardianship of my employees wearing your skin suits.” He taunts them, “They won’t even notice you’re gone...especially as they will, literally, be the same skin torn from your bodies!”

“You twisted wanker.” Tahani glares at him, the British brat suddenly baring fangs; “Where is Michael?!”

“Y’know, she’s so right...Michael should be here to watch us slowly slice that fat skin off of them, shouldn’t he.” Bad Janet sways her hips, looking knowingly to Shawn with that glint in her eye; “Want me to go fetch him and give him the front row seat?”

This Bad Janet must not have got the memo.

“Oh I wasn’t foolish enough to have Michael be here. I just needed these filthy rats to think that’s where he was by the video.” He brags, watching the shock quickly drain the anger on their faces into hopelessness; “I had Michael moved a nice, cosy location far, far away. You weren’t even close to getting to him, idiots!”

“FUCK!” Eleanor swears, not even looking as though she can enjoy the opportunity to curse; “I told you all, it was too easy!!”

“No biggie.” Bad Janet rolls her eyes; “I can still stream him the footage to wherever that dingus is, can’t I? I sooo want him to see us cut Tahani’s hair into an uneven bob.”

“No! No! NOOOO!” The wannabe princess screams until the guard gives her a slap.

The Bad Janet has a point though. It wouldn’t be worth torturing Michael’s precious humans unless he was there to watch it, even if the plan with the Michael-suit fell through. Damn Vicky and Glenn both being blown up meant he had no duplicate to use, especially as he forgot to share the design with other skinsuit manufacturers (shut up, Glenn!).

He’s certain there is very little of Michael’s awareness left after how much they’ve inflicted on him over the past few...well, it was only a handful of months but, thanks to Jeremy Bearimy, he’s endured a lifetimes worth of restraints, freezing, impalement, whipping, electrocuting, bad Adam Sandler movies, and soo much worse. There had been a time when he’d looked into those blue eyes and seen so much raw hatred. Now, whenever he took a glance at his wretch of a former employee, the light was flickering out, as if he’s conscious of nothing except the constant pain and loneliness.

Just like the humans he adores so much that end up here, where they belong. Because they’re terrible and that’s all that needs to be known. He should have left well enough alone.

At least now, finally, Shawn gets to have some entertainment.

“You’re right, Bad Janet. Set up a connection to the Tenth Circle, Sector B. I left one Bad Janet on duty there with Nicole who’s currently ‘taking care’ of Michael. And by that I mean making him very miserable.” Just in case the humans are too dumb to get the expression.

Bad Janet texts on her phone, popping another piece of gum.

“Tenth Circle...Sector B....Got it.” She raises her head, an oddly pleasant smile spreading across it, eyes suddenly bright and pleasant; “Thanks for that!”

“What-?”

The not-so-Bad Janet karate chops him in the side of the head and knocks him to the floor. He hears her make a shout, the theatre spinning around him, unable to find his feet quick enough before the humans get to their feet and surround him.

Shawn blinks, rapidly, as they proceed to take out some rope and tie his wrists and ankles together.

“What is the meaning of this?! GUARDS! DON’T JUST STAND THERE! GET THESE STINKING HUMANS OFF OF ME!” He rages, trying his best to break out of their puny hold but they’re, for some reason, freakishly strong.

The Bad Janet continues to smile at him.

“Oh they’re not your guards...and these aren’t the humans. You were being so smug that you didn’t see what’s right in front of you, did you?” She says.

Shawn frowns. What is she talking about?!

He glances up at Tahani leaning over his head, trying to spot the....Oh. Farts.

They’ve fooled him again. That’s no Bad Janet. And these humans have no auras. They don’t even smell! They’re the same as her. They’re...

“Meet my Janet Babies. I produced a bunch more to come with me. We just needed to know where Michael was really being kept and now we do. And I’ve forwarded that to our Team Two so, thanks!”

She gives Shawn a kick in the teeth before her group stand back at her command.

He spits, wriggling, bound and prone on the wooden floor.

The fake Jason stuffs a green stress ball into his mouth to gag him before all of them leave him there, muffled curses being hurled at them, before they lock the door and leave him in the empty theatre. He fucking hates Good Janets!

She likes to use the metal hooks to dig into his flesh and give them a tug, eager to get a reaction out of him despite his near frozen state. Every now and then she’ll manage to hit somewhere extra tender and a whimper will break out of his lips.

She has a schoolgirl's giggle.

“This is like ice fishing. And you’re my big piece of frozen shrimp.” She teases him as they sit in the inside of a giant glacier.

She doesn’t seem to be affected by the code, only wearing a pink slip dress. There’s not even any goosebumps on the arms of her suit..

The new one they’ve left with him is one he hasn’t seen before. She seems new to torture, possibly even new to the slim skinsuit she’s been given, still fascinated by the way her own fingers move. The way she caresses his face and sticks her tongue out makes him suspect she’s some kind of giant leech monster. The kind they used to let suck humans brains out with straws. Or cut their skulls open and lick them out like a kid with a bowl of cake mix.

Definitely not a fire squid, whatever she was.

“I bet Shawn’s almost finished making your buddies feel at home here. If you’re really good to me, Mikey...I might ask him to bring you their heads as a treat.” Nicole, as she said was her name, informs him.

He’s beyond attempting to beg for them to be left alone anymore. He’s beyond expecting any sort of mercy.

Everything he had tried for so long....everything he had hoped to avoid.

All of his efforts for the past few years were for nothing.

I’m sorry, I’m so sorry... He thinks as more tiny crystallised tears sting from the corners of his eyes.

A loud bang outside makes him start.

Nicole turns to the Bad Janet at the door; “What was that? Go check on it, will you!” she orders like a spoiled brat to her butler.

The Bad Janet rolls her eyes, flipping the bird and then doing as she’s told.

Nicole turns back to kneel in front of Michael.

He tries to escape into his hallucinations but she wants his focus on her. Her hand grips his cheek and squeezes tight.

“I dunno what you did to get the Boss to hate you so much, I don’t really give a toss about current affairs...But m’just glad I get this as my first job! Punishing a dirty traitor...” She runs the tip of an ice pick up his face, towards his nostril; “...And all the other dirty things I hear about you...My mate Kath said you had the hots for one of them humans...You creeps should keep that fetish on the internet where it belongs! Look where it’s got you now...”

She takes a small hammer out from her pocket and puts it to the bottom of the ice pick, shoving it up Michael’s nose.

“I wish you had a brain in there so this could get the same effect it does with those creatures...But the simulation is good enough.”

He wishes he could laugh through the binding in his lips. He wishes that her wish could come true. Give him a lobotomy? Take away his memories of constant failure? Make him oblivious to how he’d loved for nothing and lost everything? She would be doing him the greatest favour.

As it is, he’ll just sit there and take the pain of a nail through his fake skull. He’ll let her have her fix until she gets her reprieve and he’s left alone to his own personal inner torment. His guilt. His regrets.

Just let go, Michael. Just...forget.

Nicole leans in close, ready to fiercely tap; “Hold still. This will only hurt a-.”

She doesn’t get a chance to finish her taunting before her skin suit explodes, sending a wave of pink goo across Michael’s face.

He blinks. Something happened.

The ice pick and the hammer clatter to the floor.

Wha...

Eleanor Shellstrop stands at the door, clutching a Bad Janet marble in one hand, pointing Janet’s demon exploder in the other.

#whump #rescue attempt #angst #tgp fanfic #mini fic series

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playinonaloop · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2: I’ll give you war

Warnings through out the series: (mentions of) smut, violence, drugs, alcohol, guns, maffia stuff, ya know!

Story masterlist

As soon as he said that he left the room. Leaving you all to yourself as the sun began to set. Seeing as it was setting, it had to be around nine o’clock already. It did leave you wondering which day it already was. How long had you been knocked out? As hundreds of thoughts whirred through your head you heard the door open behind you.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you” The voice that spoke to you made you shiver. It had been 19 years since you saw him. This time you didn’t try to turn around to take a look. You didn’t need to see him. Scratch that, you don’t want to see him. He got closer; his footsteps were much heavier than the last time you heard them.

“So, you’re not going to say anything?” He was now standing in front of you. Joe Ricciardo, looking at you directly. You tried to look away as he came down to your eyesight.

“You let your brother leave you behind, for you not to talk at all? To be too scared to look me in the eye” You now looked directly at him, hatred fueling your heart as you stared in his brown eyes. Joe inched close, now merely centimeters away from your face. You couldn’t read his gaze, so you resorted to being yourself; headbutting him and smiling afterwards.

“Ouch! Shit!” He stumbled backwards as he grabbed his nose. Blood was already running down his lips. You started laughing. Joe took a look at you while you cleared your throat.

“Daniel takes after his father, I see”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“That he fell for the same dumb trick, but you are even more stupid. Coming closer while I’m as silent as can be” Joe now started smiling too, realizing you didn’t change one bit. He sat down in front of you, about a meter away, as he held his nose to make the bleeding stop. You were now wondering what he was thinking about. Joe just sat there, looking at you.

“What are you thinking about?” Your question pierced through the air making his eyes now focus on your eyes.

“How you haven’t changed at all. In all those years I haven’t seen you. God, how long has it been?”

“Nineteen years Joe, it has been that long since you… S-since you killed Rich”

He completely ignored the comment about Rich and jumped onto another question. It was as if he was afraid to talk about is. You could see his eyes twitch as he asked the question.

“So, you’re 28, now right? You were three years younger right? Can’t seem to remember”

“Yeah, 28 now”

Joe became silent, he looked at the floor. This made him look weak. If he was vulnerable, now was the time to try and pry information out of him or try and get yourself out of here.

“Joe?”

“Yes?”

“I’m really hungry and my throat is dry. It might be too much to ask but could you get me something to drink or eat? Please?” He looked at you which made you make yourself look as parched and hungry as you could. To be honest, you were starving and parched but you knew this was crucial for you getting out of here.

“Y-Yeah of course, you might be our hostage but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get food or water!” He got up at once and ran out of the room.

How was he so nice? Wasn’t he supposed to be the mean evil bastard that killed Rich and started the war?

You met a face with a big grin when you looked up to Joe. “Hiya darling, ready for another playdate?” He scooped you up in his arms and cuddled you softly. You giggled and nodded. Joey was cuddled up against his leg as your parents said their goodbyes to Grace and Joe. The two of you were going to spend the afternoon at the Ricciardo’s as your mum and dad had some important business meetings to attend. Joe took you and Joey into the spacious home they occupied. Michelle and Daniel came running at you and they immediately took off with Joey. Joe had just put you down, but since you were younger and thus smaller you weren’t as quick to follow them. Daniel was waiting for you at the top of the stairs, smiling down as you got on the stairs. “Thanks for waiting for me!” You said with a smile on your face. Daniel smiled back at you and said “Always” The two of you walked towards the playroom to join his sister and your brother.

A few hours went by as you waited for him to come back. The sun had left the surface and the room had gone dark. You heard ticking of a clock somewhere in the room, probably on the back wall. The curtains weren’t closed so it gave you a wonderful view of the sky outside. It was clear out, so you could see the stars. Nobody had come in since Joe had visited you. It made you wonder, was he making a four-star dinner for you? Or was something else going on. Something that should concern you, something that could change everything for you. But you were so tired, and you guessed it was getting late. You couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer.

“Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!” You felt a big push at your back as you opened your eyes. It startled you awake, that was the least to say. The voice was recognizable everywhere. Michelle, Daniel’s sister.

“So, today, we’re going to have some fun!”

“And what is that Michelle?”

“Well, first you are going to eat and drink. It is surprising to see you’re still alive after 30 hours without water” 30 hours, that’s how long it has been since Joey left you behind. You licked your lips before you spoke.

“The human body can go without water for 48 hours. It’s not that surprising”

Michelle now walked to you, turning you around towards the door. She had a cup in her hand.

“Listen, if you even think about headbutting me like you did with dad and Danny, I swear to God I will kill you.” You let out a small giggle as she came closer.

“You always were smarter than he was, don’t worry you’re bringing me the things I need most at this moment. I won’t be stupid enough to do something now.” She smiled as she got down on one knee, bringing the cup up to your mouth. You started drinking quickly, getting as much fluid in as possible. Michelle took the cup away as she stood again to grab something else. She turned her back to you and you heard some plastic being ripped off. When she turned back, she had a sandwich in her hand. She got back on her knee and fed you small pieces of the bread.

“Nice, huh. Finaly some food inside your stomach!”

“Yeah, but why are you being so nice?”

“Oh don’t worry hun, Like I said, we’re going to have a good evening!” She smiled as she took the sandwich away. The door in front of you opened and Grace came through the door. She hadn’t changed one bit in all those years. The sound of screeching wheels filled the room.

“G’day hun! Time to make your presence worth while.” A sinister smile embellished her mouth. It was the same smile like Danny had two days ago. Michelle turned you back around, making you face the window again. There was a jangling of iron objects that sent a shiver down your spine.

“So, since you’re here and we need to get some information, we’re going to have a chat. How’s your dad?” Grace spoke as she sat down in front of you.

“My dad is fine, why?”

“Well, we’ve heard some news that your family is making some steps into the higher ranks of politics”

“Yeah, we are” This was not an unknown secret, your dad had been walking this road for about a year now.

“Then you can also tell me how he’s getting that money?”

“I will not” Grace was onto something bigger and you knew it was crucial to not tell them anything.

“I think you should tell us, y/n. It will be less painful that way” Michelle spoke as you felt a knife spin on your cheek.

“Well, I think your family should tell the world that you’re all tide up in a drugs scandal. You know, the coke and meth stuff” You spoke as you wiggled on you chair.

This was the moment you knew you wouldn’t leave the room unharmed, which was no surprise. Instead of showing your fear you smiled at Grace.

“You should know, there is no way you’re getting me to talk” As a statement you winked at her.

“Then we’re doing this the hard way”

The hard blow you received to your knees thundered into your head. A scream left your mouth as you dove in pain. Michelle turned the tray over as she checked for a dent in it. The knife she was carrying came closer after she dropped the tray. You noticed that your neck was now bare, so you quickly shot up. Grace had picked up more duck tape by now and Michelle grabbed your hair. "Of course we don't want to wake up the whole house." Now that the duck tape had been pulled over your mouth and Grace had taken over your hair, Michelle came terrifyingly close. She turned the knife in her hand and now rested it against your chest. One quick move further and your t-shirt was in half so you were now in your bra. "It's special that you attack in a nice bra, that's a shame. Who thought you would seduce?" She now put the knife just below your collarbone and let it slide superficially over your body. Blood was released, but it hardly hurt. This was probably due to the adrenaline rushing through your body. Michelle drew a few lines across your upper body like this. Then twisting the knife a little deeper in some places. "So tell me where does the money come from" You shook your head and looked at Michelle, a frown on your face. "Then we'll go on, Mom can I have the next part?" Grace handed Michelle a spray bottle. She shook it briefly and handed the knife back to her mother. Meanwhile, the pain slowly set in and with it a headache. Out of nowhere, Michelle sprayed the mysterious stuff on your upper body. It provided immediate pain that burned through to the rest of your body. "And now, tell us something?" With tears in your eyes you shook no again. This evoked the following methode of torture. This was also without success. Grace sighed, Michelle threw her things on the floor in frustration. "This is useless Michelle, forget it. We are going to clean up" And with this statement they started to clean up and left the room shortly afterwards. As soon as they left you slipped out of consciousness.

The bench made a soft whooshing sound while you were laying on top of it. Wind was pushing you in a steady rhythm as you turned a page of your book. To be honest it was a boring book, but since your English teacher had put it onto the list you read it. You weren’t the person to skip homework, or slack anything for that fact.

“Hey ugly, wanna join us on the dirtbikes?”

Joey screamed at you from the barn. You propped yourself up on one elbow as you yelled back at him.

“I can’t, dad says I am too young!”

Now Daniel emerged from the back of the shed with an extra helmet on his dirtbike.

“Do you see your dad around?”

Daniel asked as Joey reved his bike, the sound was hyping you up to say yes.

“No, b-but I don’t want to get into trouble”.

“Well, we aren’t going to tell him if you don’t tell him”

Joey put on his helmet and got on the bike.

“Now or never, y/n!” Daniel screamed, making you put down your book and getting up. You sprinted towards him, grabbing the helmet snd hopping on the back of the dirtbike. He looked at you as he put on his helmet and got on the bike and followed Joey. The sudden movement brought you out of balance which made you grab Daniel by the waist. You heard Daniel laugh as you scooted closer to make sure you didn’t fall off. Joey was driving so fast that Daniel almost couldn’t keep up. You lost Joey and Daniel decided to go off road through the woods. Next was a steep hill, which made Daniel go even faster. On top of the hill the two of you came to a stop. Daniel let you get off safely, you taking of your helmet as soon as your feet were planted on the ground.

“Nice ride huh?”

Daniel asked as he put his helmet on the bike.

“Yeah, quite fast too”

You replied softly as the view took away your breath.

“How’s school y/n?”

“It’s fine Danny, boring but fine”

He chuckled: “You’re nine, how is it boring but fine?!”

“Because it just is”

You turned around and looked at him. He was standing next to the bike with a big grin on his face. Suddenly the sound of a bike was getting close, next Joey came upon the hill.

“Y/n, we’ve got to go. Dad’s home”

You weren’t able to see his face due to his helmet but his voice wasn’t normal.

“But why? I know I’m not supposed to be on a bike but w-“

“Now y/n! We’ve got to go, family stuff is happening.” You put on your helmet and walked towards him.

“You are following us back, right Danny?”

You asked as you looked at him.

“I think it’s better if you get home too Daniel, it’s safer that way”

Joey spoke as he pulled you close.

“But why, this is your bike Joey?”

“Take it, we’re leaving”

And with that Joey put you on the bike, got on and drove away.

Click here for chapter three!

#fanfic #imagine #f1 #fic #daniel ricciardo #writing #formula one #mob!au #torture #angst

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