#And then who the hell is going to write chapter 16?

[gretavanmoon]

an omnipresent force • ch 5

Chapter 5 - DARK ABDUCTION

Jake x female reader

Words: 12K

A/N: Semi-AU// Set six years in the future, the world has decided to cast humankind aside, starting with the poisonous entities that are destroying her the most.

*So sorry it took me a damned month to write this LOL I love you all

Warnings: Dystopian Horror, Cursing, Suspense, Feelings of Fear and Uncertainty, An Apocalyptic World, Violence (& mention of firearms), Mentions of Smoking, Kidnapping, Blood, Death & Dying, Lying, Attacks, Deceit, Panic, Mental Anguish. Smut: Kissing, Heavy Pining, Heavy Touching, Mentions of Sex

JAKE

“Wait, you two kissed?” Sam places his hand harshly on my shoulder as his tired eyes delve deeply into mine. I see the tiniest hint of a smirk poking at his mouth, and I immediately regret my decision to let the admission of what happened last night slip. I’m struck silent for a second as I bite my own tongue for telling my brother what happened on the wall by the koi pond, but he perseveres. “Answer me, asshole! Tell me what happened!” His hand shakes at my shoulder as I glance around to be sure we’re away from the rest of the group, but I feel Danny’s presence suddenly hovering at my back.

“Wait, what happened?” he says with a monotone grunt, sitting down beside Sam and I with a plate full of canned something. “Who kissed somebody?”

Jesus Christ.

We’d all awoken from the restlessness of sorry excuses for sleep nearly an hour ago, buried up under old, musty quilts and blankets from the home Odin had us hiding out in. I fell asleep with Y/N’s hand in mine as we laid head to head on the dusty cushions, trying our best to calm our minds enough to sleep. We knew we needed it, hell, even if we didn’t fall into unconsciousness, just resting our bodies enough to relax was helpful enough. My mind had raced all night long with half-asleep dreams of Josh… of my parents and my family, all my dark daily thoughts even darker then under the cover of nighttime and complete silence. 

But her warm hand in mine gave me some type of solace, though she is still yet unfamiliar and more or less a stranger to me, that kiss on the wall felt like more than just two humans begging for physical touch after so many months without it. Deep down I knew that my body was acting more powerfully than my mind, taking whatever it could get just to feel something again, but after sitting with the memory of the feeling of her lips on mine all night long, I started to think it felt like something different.

Luckily Y/N had taken off to the woods to do her business, giving me a second of reprieve to sort my thoughts out while Odin and the brothers made some type of breakfast over the fire in the backyard. Sparrow was still deep in sleep, resting peacefully in the bedroom across the hall from us. 

“Jake kissed Y/N!” Sam belts to Danny in a loud whisper, earning him a swift slap of the back of my hand across his stomach. “Ow, fuck! What, you didn’t want him to know or something?”

“No, I don’t care that he knows, it’s just… not a big deal–”

“Not a big deal? Jake, this is like the first episode of a soap opera, man!” Danny exclaims with a toothy smile. “Need some romantic drama in my life, tell us what happened,” Danny orders as the two of them sit beside me with expressions of extreme interest. For a split second, it feels like we’re 16 again, telling each other stories about girls and hookups and how we managed to sneak out after midnight without getting caught.

“No drama to it, Daniel,” I begin to reluctantly explain, running my hand over my mustache. “Just… kinda happened, I dunno.” I stare back at the both of them, all three of us haggard, dirty, unshaven and feral… looking outwardly worse for wear than we ever have in our lives. I make a mental note to re-think what Y/N even sees in me, right now.  

Their eyes are trained on me, their jaws hanging slack as they wait with bated breath for the dirty details. It feels private, but also…eh, they’re going to learn about it eventually, I guess. I’ll keep a little bit to myself, but feeding into them will make for some unexpected entertainment. 

“Just happened…” Sam repeats. “I mean was it, good?” he asks, swallowing down his excitement. You’d never guess that we’re thirty-something year old men having this discussion right now. 

I feel my chest bloom with the memory of it, remembering everything about how she felt pressed against me, how she tasted, how she sounded when I let my hands wander…

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, it was… really good,” I can feel my cheeks blushing. “We just…” I throw my hands into the air and try to down play it all, but they know me too well. The bite of my lips between my teeth is doing all it can to keep me from relinquishing every detail to them, simply so I can relive it, myself.

“Fuckin’ come on, Jake. I didn’t realize you guys were that close…” Danny tries to urge me.

“We’re not, I mean, we were locked up in the same pod, she was a damned fan, for fuck’s sake,” I breathe, checking our surroundings again as I whisper. “She saved me, back at the sink hole…” I recount to them. “Got me out of there. They’d just hit me over the head when I was trying to save her Paps, I was passing out. I wouldn’t have made it out if she didn’t–”

I watch them adjust themselves as they listen, huffing through deep breaths of imagining what my negative memory might be going through. 

“I mean of course I’m… ya know. It’s been some time since I’ve—,” I try and explain without saying, earning understanding nods from them. “But things got a little…handsy, I guess.”

“Oooo!” Sam squeals, rubbing his hands together.  “You lucky motherfucker! What else happened? Did you do it?”

“God, no, Sam, we didn’t do it, you fuckin’ idiot,” I bite back as Danny laughs loudly. 

“What?” he howls. “I’m trying to live vicariously here!”

“Nah man, she’s like… really nice. It was really uhm, not just physical, I guess. We talked and stuff. She feels like…” I raise my hands and squeeze the air as I realize I’m having a hard time explaining to them exactly what I feel. Of course my body is feigning for more human touch, any type of connection I can get my hands on. I’m ashamed of the thoughts that plagued me on the couch last night, but I remind myself that it’s normal. And, after hearing what she had to say about a little touchin’ and squeezin’...

“She feels good. I don’t know how else to explain it. Just, really good. All the way around.”

“So there’s mutual attraction?” Sam asks, nearly begging for more detail.

I fight back another smirk. “Oh yeah. M’sure of that.”

“I saw her looking at you last night,” Danny adds quietly as he pulls food into his mouth. “She got those googly eyes.”

“Of course she did, Daniel, do you not remember being on stage? It hasn’t been that fucking long ago…” Sam bickers.

“No,” Danny laughs, “not that kind of eyes. She was looking at you. Like, really looking. With concern and empathy…while we were listening to Sparrow talk.”

All I can do is nod, remembering that I’ve caught her looking at me like that, too. A few times now. And each time it sends a surge of some type of emotion that I don’t have time to think about right now straight through my body like an electric shock. It’s funny, I’ve had my fair share of what you’d call crushes in my lifetime, some evolving into serious, years-long relationships and some fizzling out before I even had a chance to think twice about them. 

But never have I felt like I didn’t want to eat the food in front of me when I’m nearly starving, simply for the fact that the emanating peace I’ve felt in my chest and stomach for the past few days takes up enough space that I don’t need sustenance. Because she fills me. She’s making my heart race for a reason that I don’t yet understand, and I’m teetering on the edge of feeling guilty about it, as my heart should be racing with worry and concern for my family, instead. 

“Well,” Sam breaks the silence, “I hope that things stay moving forward for you, brother. Nothing like a little romance during the fucking apocalypse.”

Just then I hear her giggle from the back side of the house, causing my head to dart that way as I long to hear it again. I toss the pebbles that I had mindlessly picked up back into the murky koi pond and stand with Sam and Daniel, and we begin to make our way back to the fire to see what the day will hold. 

I catch her eyes as soon as I round the corner of the house, bright and rested as I assume she got better sleep than I did. Her face immediately turns the prettiest shade of pink before she shyly breaks her gaze, tossing a few pieces of hair behind her ear. That familiar knot pulls at my stomach, making me forget how to breathe for a second as I watch the too-bright sun bounce off her features. The day is already beginning to feel strange as the wind begins to shift from the warmth of the night into the freezing cold of the day. 

“Where is Odin?” Danny asks the brothers as they work to prepare a makeshift meal. 

“Went to sit with Sparrow until she wakes up,” Robbie answers as he stirs whatever is in the pot that hangs above the fire. “Want some?” He holds the wooden spoon out to me as I realize it’s some kind of oatmeal, and I immediately feel my stomach churn with hunger. Maybe I do need real sustenance, after all. I nod, grabbing two bowls from the stack and letting Robbie fill them for Y/N and I. 

I pass the bowl off to her as we both take our seats on a rock by the fire. “Awfully kind of you to think of me, Jacob,” she says sweetly, taking the hot bowl from my hand. 

You’re the only thing that’s been on my mind since last night, if we’re being honest…

“Sharing is caring,” I blurt, making her giggle again. 

“Do we have a plan? Are we making moves soon?” Danny asks, turning the bleak cheeriness of the morning straight into business. We always leave it to him to keep things on track. And honestly, if it weren’t for him naturally doing that at every single turn, it’s hard to tell where we would be today.

“As soon as Sparrow wakes up, and we see that she’s ready to share again, we will define a more detailed plan,” Josiah explains. “For now, Odin wants you all fed and for us to gather necessary supplies from the house. I found some backpacks and camping gear in the upstairs closet, we can fill them with whatever we need.” 

I tilt the bowl up and let the soupy oatmeal fall into my mouth, and as it burns my lips and tongue I feel nothing but gratitude for it. My mouth waters and my stomach churns again as it thanks me, my mind suddenly feeling a bit of clarity as the food hits my stomach. 

“We also need to hydrate. All of us,” Robbie adds. “I think these people were preppers before we even knew the world was ending… I found a ton of canteens and potable water in the basement this morning. Firestarters, water filters, hot hands, oil lamps… take whatever you want but make sure it doesn’t weigh you down. There’s also still a ton of clothing in the closets. Grab whatever you can.”

“We also need to remember that we’re being hunted,” Josiah says grimly from behind him. His eyes seem dark in the sunlight, a stark contrast to his brother’s cheery disposition. “Hunted by the ones who Robbie and I ‘work’ for.”

“Worked,” Robbie corrects him, glaring behind him to meet eyes with his brother. My gut suddenly falls as a worrisome thought flows through my head, one that hopes to the heavens above that these men aren’t actually luring us somewhere. I know Y/N, Sam, and Danny have the same thought, but it’s quickly extinguished as Josiah explains his demeanor. 

“Right, worked. Sorry. I’m just…” Josiah works his hands over his face and licks his lips, letting out a large breath of air as he shakes his nerves away. It hadn’t dawned on me that these two men have put everything out on the line for this, for us. To help save us, keep us protected. They are just humans like we are, just a couple of guys who agreed to fight the good fight. Of course they’re feeling just as overwhelmed. 

“We haven’t forgotten that, Josiah. And I don’t think you know how much we appreciate you both for coming out here and helping defend our asses,” Sam says through full mouths of his oatmeal. The other three of us agree and nod.

“We’re not gonna let these motherfuckers win,” Robbie growls. “They mistreated us for far too long. Lied to us, and we played their games, but we caught them up. Now we know how they operate. We’ll be damned if we let them take anything more from us.”

“Your family, are we searching for them, too?” Y/N asks from beside me. 

Robbie and Josiah share a sullen glance before their eyes land back on her. “No, we lost them all to the rash. Dad was able to stay with us for a while, but. It got him in the end,” Robbie says, tossing a few pieces of broken sticks into the flames. 

“Neither one of us have even shown any symptoms. Then we got picked up by these scary fuckers, they agreed to give us shelter and a lavish life in safety from what has happened to the world. Not sure why we agreed, we felt desperate at the time, I guess,” Josiah adds. “They said they would make it worth our while to come and work for them, and before we knew it we were in too deep. But we did learn nearly everything there was to know about how their world intersects with ours, and then we learned about you guys being found. Made all the musical ties ourselves, realized all the lyrics, knew that you’d be in grave danger, and we were right.”

“I still can’t believe you two were fans, too,” Danny breathes. “Feels strange.”

“Yeah man, big time. Used to play you guys all the time while we were overseas, bugged the shit out of everyone until they all started singing along. Took some time, but we converted them,” Josiah went on. 

“Wait, overseas?” I implore. 

Robbie clears his throat. “Yeah, we were both in the military. I was Air Force, Joe was Marines. We were both stationed separately when Starcatcher came out, but I remember we got on some shitty Zoom call and talked about it for like an hour. We were hyped.”

“Oh yeah!” Josiah yelps. “That was killer, I remember that. Fuck I played that shit over and over, got the whole squad turned on to you guys. Playin’ fuckin Highway Tune on jukeboxes in random bars in Germany… ah, what wild times.”

I feel a genuine smile warm through me as I realize that our music really did tie bonds between people, and they found comfort in it even while they were living in what most likely was their own versions of hell. Even now, months after we realized that our dreams had come to a quick and forced ending, it feels good to hear the stories of days past, when it truly did mean something to someone. At least we all will always have that. “So that’s why they hired you guys… you had experience in this shit…”

They both nod. “Yeah, somewhat. We ended up coming back home around the same time, I got an MP job, and Joe stayed with Special Forces for a while. Got out and got some civilian jobs or whatever, then the world ended,” Robbie says with a twist of his neck. 

I gulp down the strange sadness that has washed over me, and I feel Y/N’s side press a little harder onto mine. 

“Bet that was tough…” I mutter. 

“Yeah, ya know. We didn’t hate our lives, but it wasn’t sunshine and rainbows. The thrill of the job is what we got addicted to, but it felt like a prison most days,” Josiah goes on. “Now we deserted our posts as work hounds for those motherfuckers, guess we’re a couple of renegades, now.”

Danny’s eyes shoot open as he glances to them, then to me, realizing yet another connection that hadn’t even dawned on any of us, yet. Son of a bitch, Josh…how in the fuck did you do this? 

I shake my head in disbelief, feeling Y/N exhale hard as she makes the connection, too. It’s quiet for a minute or so as a heaviness falls over us.  

“Till Valhalla?” I finally ask, unsure of how else to propose it. 

Josiah purses his lips, offering me a stern look. “Or is it Alas, Babylon?”

I huff through my nose, breathing a quiet “fuck” as I place my bowl down onto the rocky ground, running my hands over my face. They’ve realized it, too. As the minutes tick, things become more and more unreal. Or more real, depending on how you look at it. I’m awestruck at how our words are still coming to life at every turn, realizing now that these two brothers are our Barbarians. 

“Well, thank you, guys… for all of it. Really,” Sam says with a little conviction as we all add in our words of agreement.

“Ah, no need for that. But it’s appreciated,” Josiah says as he stands up and elbows his brother. “We’re just out here still doing what we do best, huh?”

Just as the conversation starts to lighten a little, we hear the back sliding glass door open as Odin gently bounds through, giving us looks of intrigue as his one orange eye glistens in the sun. Behind him in hand, is Sparrow. 

“Good morning, everyone. I trust you all got some rest,” his voice is low and graveled as he uses caution to lead a tired Sparrow outside into the cool wind. 

“Got enough, I suppose,” I say, standing to greet them. “How are you, Sparrow?”

Her aura seems to shift as she moves, the air around her almost glittering in a dusty haze. “Well, Jacob, thank you.” It’s like the breeze warms as she speaks, blowing across us with a new wave of positivity and calmness. She emotes some kind of invisible tranquility, almost immediately filling me with a new gumption to keep going, keep fighting. I can hardly fathom the emotion, but I feel a warm buzz of stamina begin pulsing through my veins. She makes me feel like I’m…alive. 

Odin leads her over to take a seat on a bench as she hobbles across the gravel with her hand clutched protectively over her sword. 

“Is she…limping?” I hear Y/N whisper quietly in my ear, again furthering that the visions of her in Josh’s dreams were spot on. 

I nod slowly as she begins to relax onto the seat, stretching her back and raising her arms high above her head. “My friends, my sincerest apologies for bestowing that news upon you with such haste last night, but I thought it prevalent to our situation, and urgency became paramount. And then, my slumber afterward is always overpowering, and again I am sorry. I simply can never fight through it…” 

I feel Y/N rise from her seat beside me as she wraps a blanket around herself, making her way over to sit beside Sparrow. “It’s alright, you don’t need to be sorry. I think we are all grateful that you’re here, and willing to help us, right guys?”

“Right, absolutely,” we all viciously agree. At this point, I’m chomping at the bit for her to continue, to feed us more information that I know she is holding inside her. But I’ve learned that patience is key. 

We all gather in around her like children being read a Christmas story, anxiously waiting to hear what new news she has to offer. I’m nervous, and I’m a little scared to know, but I also can’t bring myself to think about anything else at the moment. The newfound urge to keep going is amplified the closer I get to Sparrow, but I also could absolutely collapse with worry for my brother. 

“Alright, I’ve got good news, and I’ve got bad news…”

Y/N

I feel the overwhelming urge to reach out and grab Sparrow’s hand, but I resist, not knowing whether or not that will comfort her at all. I’m not sure where my want to comfort her has come from, but I can’t seem to step away from it. 

The guys and I sit and wait for her news, and I’m positive none of us have taken a breath since the last word left her lips. My nerves are swirling but I suppress them, knowing that Jake, Sam, and Danny are a thousand times more anxious than I am. Paps would want me to stay strong.

“The good news is that your brother is alive. And he is safe, in some sense of the word,” she sings, her accent flowing through a hundred millenia, but all of us are somehow able to understand it. “My friends, as I’m sure you all have probably assumed by now, Joshua has been found and captured by those who rule the Tower. His mind is still his own, but you must understand, once one crosses into the other world and begins inserting oneself with the beliefs of those who inhabit there, it takes a great deal of power to begin to reverse it. The words that flowed from me last night were indeed words spoken by your brother, himself, to the people there whom he will one day rule over.”

“Wait, rule over? What does that mean?” I interrupt, my body tensing. 

“Jacob, your brother is a Seer. Even in his adolescent dreams and nightmares, he was witnessing and experiencing a plethora of occurrences that were happening in real time, in the past and in the future, in our world. You know this, now. You wrote about it, about it all. Once our people learned that Joshua possessed this gift through learning of your music, they made it their mission to try and take him for their own. To rule over them as the true one that they could believe in, the one who stands, and watches over,” Sparrow says. My chest caves and my breath hitches as it all begins to come to life again. All of our lyrics, all of our stories…

She goes on, “Of course they wanted him, they just had no idea that a mere human would be the one to possess the power to see time. Time and events being prophesied by a human man in an enemy world is… unfathomable, for them. The end of your world just happened to be the perfect time for them to act upon their plans, as our worlds cannot live while the other is struggling to stay alive. Two sides of the same coin, spinning rapidly on its axis until it begins to slow and falter. But this time, oh, this time, things are different.”

“So they wanted Josh… to be their Seer, to be the one who can warn them of what’s to come, what will work in their favor, and what will not…” Sam drones, choking back tears. 

“Correct, Samuel. Odin, have you told them of what they are doing to their elderly? With their memories?” Sparrow asks. 

Odin shakes his head. “Yes, I have.”

“Your immune elders are being used for their experiments. They are trying to wipe their memories, wipe anything and everything they have ever known to soon bring them over into their own world, and convert them to follow the Seer. A whole new population that will know nothing but following him.”

“Blind faith…” Danny murmurs from beside me, his elbow pressing into my back. “It’s their fate.”

“That’s right Daniel,” Sparrow agrees, emanating another glow of positivity around us. “Blind in the sense that they will have no recollection of how they got there, or why they feel compelled to follow this omniscient. It’s the perfect storm.”

“You said that the hooded guards are all omniscient, why can’t they use one of them? Why does it have to be Josh?” I press, remembering what Odin had said. 

“I said they are all nearly omniscient. Your brother, in their eyes, is completely so,” Odin reiterates. 

I huff out an air of disappointment for news that I partially already knew, but hearing it all said out loud has crushed me. Why? Why?

“Josh didn’t know what we were writing about was real, though! They can’t take him and claim his mind like that, they can’t take away his free will!” I yell, feeling my heartrate taking off. 

“They can, Jacob, and they have already begun the process. You heard his words last night, and I know you know they were not his own. They’ve begun to manipulate his thoughts into believing that all he claims is truth, which partially, it is. They are deeming him as a new leader, a sovereign entity of whom will lead the people to their destiny.”

“Destiny? What destiny?” Danny asks.

“If their trials are successful, and they are able to completely wipe the memories of every immune human left on earth, they will take them all as their own and the Earth will have no choice but to relinquish all its power unto them,” Sparrow barks, and I can tell that the words sting a bit as they leave her mouth. 

“But I thought our worlds can’t exist without one another,” Y/N blurts, her hand now gripping hard onto mine. 

“They can’t, my love, without inhabitants who are strong and thriving.” Sparrow stands and approaches us, her warmth bellowing toward us as she raises her hand to brush across all of our faces. “That’s why they are hunting you. You are worth everything to them. If they can erase the memories of your elders, then they will be sure they can erase the memories of the stronger, younger immunes. Wipe your Mother Earth of her inhabitants, and watch as she completely crumbles. Once they convert you all, then their world will have more than enough power to exist on it’s own, without needing the support of Earth to survive.”

She comes in closer, her aura dripping with what feels like forced happiness. “You see, they want to fully extinguish the human race from the face of the Earth. They want you as their own. Their plan is to take you all, and Joshua is their sole key to the abductions.”

Abductions. 

Suddenly, I can’t breathe. 

I can’t blink, I can’t swallow… I can’t even feel the rocks that I know are poking through the thinning soles of my boots. 

Jake’s hand slips from my own as I feel him slowly turn to me, and to Sam and Danny, all of their faces void of any real emotion at all, other than complete terror. 

“This isn’t fair…” I whisper, and I’m not sure any sound came from me, at all. It feels like my chest is made of stone, the small breaths I’m pulling in unable to expand my lungs. Josh…

“What do we do?” Jake asks us, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as his pupils shrink to pinpoints. His face has dropped to a stark white, and I can feel the terrified energy radiating from him. His eyes dart from his brothers to me, looking to all of us for answers that we simply don’t have. “What do we do?” Tears begin welling in his eyes and the rims of them turn a bright red. I can see his hands visibly shaking.

“We search. Today. We leave, now,” Odin harks, standing from Sparrow’s side as he throws his bow and arrow over his shoulder. “Into the house, pack your bags, take only all that is necessary and nothing more. Pack water, warm clothing. Josiah, Robbie, the same for you. Make sure you lock all of the doors and windows, we will return to this place eventually.”

“Where are we going? What’s the plan?” Danny asks as everyone begins to shuffle. 

“First we find your families. Get them to safety. Then we find your brother and cross him back over. That will be the hard part,” he says, punching through all of us to go and begin packing his horse. Danny, Sam, and the others jump into action and begin rushing into the house to pack their things.

I notice that Jake is frozen where he stands, the news that Sparrow has just shared still coursing through him. I fear he is in shock, feeling the effects of learning the truth about his twin fully and completely. Truly, I’m not sure what to even say to him right now, but then I look to Sparrow and she gives me a tight grin, and I immediately feel another wave of comfort and courage wash over us. 

“Jake, I know you’re scared right now, and I know this is a lot to process, but. We’re going to find him, he’s going to be okay,” I reason, taking his cheeks into my hands to try to get him to look at me. 

“How do you know that, Y/N? What if we can’t get to him, and he’s already too far gone? What if he– what if he never comes back?” I never thought I would see him cry, I never thought I would have to be the one comforting him when he did… But here I find myself…

“You wanna know how I know that, Jake? Blind faith.”

“What–what do you mean? That’s…”

My hands release his cheeks and fall to catch his still trembling hands, cold and clammy in the blowing air. “How do we ever know anything is going to work for certain, Jake? We don’t, we just have to persevere. Josh wouldn’t stop looking for you, and he’d never give up on you. None of you would give up on each other. Right? All these years, all you’ve done is trusted each other, because it’s all that you had. You seized every opportunity, together. And look where it got you. You can’t stop now. You can’t think thoughts like that now, Jake. We don’t have time for them. Every single one of you is stronger than you know, and I’ll be damned if I sit here and watch you crumble because of a little fear. You’ve overcome so much, Jake, in your lives and in your careers, because of your blind faith.”

“Kill fear,” he whispers. 

I watch as his pupils grow a bit, and his muscles relax. I wipe the tears that are beginning to freeze onto his face, catching in his lengthening beard and mustache. “Yeah, fuck fear,” I smile.

He nods, turning his head to press a sweet kiss onto my palm. “Okay, yeah. You’re right. We’re gonna find him, he’s gonna be alright, the son of a bitch.” I smile as he picks himself up, gripping my hands that are still cupping his cheeks and placing more kisses onto my palms and fingers. “Thank you…”

I push myself onto him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he finally takes his first full breath in a few minutes. “Don’t thank me, Jake. You don’t know how many times you and your brothers have comforted me when I thought there was nothing else left for me in this world. You and your music were always there.” 

I hear him laugh, his chest shaking a little against mine as I realized the words I’d just said. “I didn’t mean to say that, it just came out,” I laugh along with him as he pulls away a little, holding my elbows in his hands. 

“Hell, maybe he dreamed about you and me too, then,” he mutters, sending my heart straight into glittering explosions. What did I do to deserve spending this time with him? The person that pulled me from the depths so many times… and now we’ve found ourselves here…

“Maybe he did…” I reply shyly, feeling his thumbs grazing across my arms. 

“Hey, love birds! Come on, we’ve got bags to pack!” We hear Sam yelling from the upstairs balcony of the house, and if it weren’t for the immediate action we jumped into, I would have had time to process the fact that Sam just used the word love.

JAKE

Only all that is necessary…

You always think about what you would grab and take with you if your house was burning down, but when it actually came down to it, you always knew you’d be able to gather resources again. Meals from a neighbor, supplies from the store, fuel from a gas station… 

But when it comes down, truly, to only what is necessary… I think I’ve drawn a blank. 

The empty backpack sits open in my hands as I kneel in the closet of the stranger’s house, my eyes scanning over the clothing that once kept this person warm. Sweaters that his wife had gifted him, socks with holes he had worn in, boots still covered in mud and debris from the hike he didn’t know was going to be his last... 

I swallow hard as my eyes scan even further into the bottom of the closet, shelves full of old memorabilia, high-school basketball trophies, photo albums, old vinyl records… these were part of someone’s life. And I am taking it, because I need to survive. 

“I can’t do this…” I mutter, shaking my head of the sudden overwhelming feeling of impeding into someone’s personal space, though their earthly body is long gone from this home. 

“You have to,” I hear from the doorway, looking up to see Robbie looking back at me. “Promise you, this guy wouldn’t care.”

I huff through my nose. “How would you know, did you know him?”

“No, but I feel like if he knew that it’s the actual end of the earth, the seasons are blending, your family was kidnapped by inhabitants of another world, and you’re running around with mythical creatures while you’re being hunted and used for your mind, I’m pretty positive he wouldn’t care if you stole a pair of socks or two,” Robbie says sarcastically as he gnaws on a long piece of red candy. “Twizzler?”

I laugh again, opening the drawer that houses the underwear and socks. “Yeah, actually, thanks. They aren’t stale?”

“Fuck yeah, they are. But it don’t bother me. Just keeps my hands and mouth busy, ya know?”

I stuff two pairs of woolen socks into a zippered part of the bag before removing my boots and slipping a fresh pair on. “You used to smoke, didn’t you?” I ask. 

“How’d you know?”

“Just a guess,” I reply, reaching far back into the closet to grab a pair of the man’s old hiking boots, happy with finding we were almost the exact same size. “I would have gotten you a pack or five if I’d have known… Right before you found us, we were in an old convenience store chock full of them. That’s where Y/N and I found Sam and Danny.”

Robbie grunts a laugh as he pulls another rogue Twizzler from his pocket, handing it off to me. “Sounds like we might have to make a pitstop.” 

It does sound intriguing… A cigarette would be fucking glorious, right about now. “Might could make that happen…”

“So Y/N… you didn’t know her before?” he asks, piquing my interest.

I shake my head. “No, just in the pods. She used to listen to us a lot, like you and Josiah did, so I guess she knew me, kinda… Why?”

I see him shrug from the corner of my eye. “Just wonderin’. Ya’ll seem pretty close.”

I shrug back, pulling a hoodie off a metal hanger. “Guess you could say that.” I pop the Twizzler into my mouth and bite off the end, zipping the overfull bag closed and tossing it over my shoulder. “Kinda feel like she’s mine to protect.”

He tosses me the last candy in his pocket as I stand and face him, watching his jaw work as he chews. “Raid the bathroom, too,” he suggests. “Soap would be nice.”

—-

“Got everything you need?” I ask Y/N as everyone gathers out back again. We’re all in a slow-motion hurry, now, as the morning is slowly drifting into noon. 

“Uh, yeah, think so,” she says, zipping the oversized pullover she’d found up around her chin, and pulling a toboggan down over her ears. “It’s so hard to think about it being so hot at night, and there’s ice blowing through the air, now…”

“I know, everything is so backwards,” I agree, leaning down to re-tie my boots. 

As I stand back up, she pulls me to the side, causing me to stumble a little bit into her. “Come here…” she whispers, her hand gripped hard in my jacket. 

“Yeah, whoa, yeah?” I laugh as she catches my fall and takes me in her embrace. 

“I found something else, while I was searching the house,” she whispers, her eyes trained on my face. 

“Oh?” I ask. “What’d you find?”

She reaches into her pocket, pulling out a brand new razor and a tiny bottle of travel shaving cream. My face falls and I feel my lips flatten into a sarcastic look. “What, you got a problem with this more rugged side of me, or somethin’?” I rake my fingernails through my beard, scratching hard at it. 

She glances around and sees that everyone else is taken up by their own tasks before she wraps her hands in my jacket, pulling me forward into her and around the corner of the house. We stumble back underneath the second-floor porch, hiding in the shadows and away from the wind a bit. She grips me again, pulling me into her as she speaks. 

“No. I love it. Really suits you,” she murmurs, her eyes traveling quickly from my eyes to my mouth. I watch as her breath turns to steam as she exhales, heavy and hot even in the blistering cold. It’s strange to say, but I almost feel like she beckons me without even saying a word. 

And fuck, she is so…

“Know what else I love about it? You feel more mature to me like this, I’ve always been one to prefer facial hair.”

“So I’m guessing you hated it when I used to shave my mustache off for shows, then?” I implore with a teasing tone, leaning in and letting my nose drift over hers playfully. “I couldn’t even grow a beard until I turned 31…”

“Yeah, used to get real fuckin’ mad about it,” she smiles, lurching her hips into mine. “We all used to place bets on if you’d show up with or without one. I lost most of the time, because you always shaved the damned thing off. But I guess it’s also cool that I’m the only one who’s ever seen you like this…”

I growl a laugh, gritting my teeth and feeling the need to be near her again. I feel flushed, even in the cold blowing air, but being near her makes me forget about every bad thing that’s surrounding us. I let my cold hands snake up under her coat, searching like hell to find her bare skin. Finally I find her stomach, attaching my cold palms to it and her hips. “Yeah, actually, I guess you’re right. Just you…”

“Fuck…” she breathes, her body shivering from my touch. “Just me?”

“Just you…” I repeat, taking her bottom lip between my teeth. God, she makes me want to lay her the fuck down, right here in this freezing cold grass. My mind begins spinning with want again as I feel her body weight pressing itself into me, my hands beginning to freely do what they please underneath her layers of shirts, just as they had last night. “What’s the razor for, then? If you like it so well?” 

Her hand comes up and grips the base of my neck, squeezing hard as I allow my hands to finally grip at her tits. She lets out a pitiful sound as her head falls back a little, spurring me on to keep exploring. I can feel her nipples hardening in my fingers, and I’m fighting with everything in me to stop myself from getting too excited, but the more her chest heaves, the harder it gets to concentrate. Her lips are ghosting across mine, and I feel her warm breath landing on my tongue. I need to taste her again.

“Just giving you the option to shave, if you wanted to,” she breathes, her eyes fluttering open and closed. “If not, you can pass it off to Danny.”

Her hand comes around and grips at my jaw, forcing me to thrust my hips into her again. I feel warm all over, almost as if the wind isn’t cutting us in two. There’s no way she can’t tell I’m impossibly hard now, and if the circumstances were different…

“If you like it, I love it,” I breathe into her as our bodies begin lurching and craning onto each other, my hands still massaging at her breasts. God, what I’d give to see her…

“Kiss me, Jake,” she mumbles into my mouth, our lips already almost touching, anyway. My mouth finally overtakes hers, my tongue unable to fight any longer as it begins exploring without any warning. She reacts the same way, pressing her chest more harshly into my hands, practically begging me to feel her even more. We stay this way for a minute or so, just like we did by the koi pond, our bodies pressing and moving as I forcefully back her up against the cold block wall of the house. 

She pushes me away a little, but catches her fingertips in the waistband of my pants, giving her a split second’s access to slip her hand inside. God fucking damnit. 

I take it as it comes as I feel her frozen hand work its way into my boxers, wasting no time in taking me fully in her hand. “Jesus Christ, baby…” I all but moan as I feel my head tilt back on its own. I reach for the wall behind her to steady myself as she squeezes me, her palm soft and gentle but using a little bit of force to show me what she wants. I come in close again, kissing her like my life fully depends on it. “Mmhmm…” I moan against her, my lips vibrating onto hers. 

“Call me baby again,” she whispers when we disconnect for a second to breathe. 

“Baby, baby, baby…” I say quietly, rolling my hips into her hand. “I’ll call you anything you fuckin’ want…”

She whimpers quietly into my mouth again as she pulls at my hair, knotted and ratty at the base of my neck. I’m reminded again of the thought of what she actually sees in me right now, dirty and gritted and unclean, but then again, she probably thinks of herself all the same. Her hair is tangled, her features are tired and a little sunburnt, yet I see her as the most beautiful thing I’ve encountered in ages. All of the things that society deemed as making a person desirable have flown out the window. Because truly, none of it fucking matters. 

Her hand grips around me again as my fingernails dig into the cinderblock, pulsing and throbbing as she takes her time with her show of intimacy. The essence of her is satiating all my senses… her taste, her scent, her touch… 

Then it hits me- this is the rawest I’ve ever felt in my life. 

Attraction comes in all shapes and sizes, and when you stumble upon it, it can either knock you down or confuse you even further. I’ve always been positive in what I want; I know exactly what attracts me and keeps my attention. And I’ve prided myself on that. Coming of age also determines and filters out what you do and do not want in life, and in a lover. And I know that my vision is blurred right now with this overwhelming need to fornicate, but shit, if she isn’t turning all of my past ideals about myself and what I want on their fucking tops. 

She’s different… she’s headstrong and brave, smarter than I could ever even think about being. She’s bold, and she’s unashamed. She acts as though she comes from a time that she didn’t have any business being in. She’s fucking beautiful, taking my breath away with every stolen glance. Yet she’s reserved in all the ways that I am… thinking before she speaks, studying people before she trusts them. I can tell all of this about her, and I’ve committed it all to memory, and I’ve only known her for less than a few weeks. 

Raw, unbridled and desperate, the wind biting at our cheeks as the wetness of our kiss coats our lips and faces, her hand gripping over me still, without any shyness about her aura, at all. Her preference of privacy stunning me as she shows me that she wants me just as badly as I want her. Not because of who she knew me as for the majority of our lives, but who she sees me as right now, untamed and ravenous for one another. And I am fucking enamored.

My hand leaves her breast and travels to grip her ass, covered in layers of pants and coveralls, but I don’t care. I hike her leg up across my hip, letting our bodies become closer as the cold wind whips through the bright green trees. I glance around every few seconds so that I’m positive we’re still alone, though at this point my mind is so fogged with desire that I truly couldn’t care less if we were caught. Her body is warm and inviting, and I let my fingers grip into the muscle between her ass and thigh, squeezing and kneading the skin there as her body rolls into mine again. 

“Would it be too forward of me to say that I fucking want you?” I blurt out with a forced whisper, my mouth overtaking my mind for just a second.

She laughs a little as we separate, her pupils blown as she shakes her head quickly from side to side. “No. It wouldn’t be too forward at all,” she says, squeezing me harder than she has, yet. “I’m the one with my hand on your cock, stupid.”

Fuck fuck fuck. Shit, get it together. My body shudders as I let out a quiet grunt of aggravation, completely blown with desire as my fist pounds into the wall that’s holding us up.

I swear if we weren’t fucking leaving in two goddamned minutes…

“I swear to god, baby, I do…” I growl again, making her grip on me move at a quicker pace. 

Just then we’re surprised by loud conversation near the fire pit, a rustle of everyone gathering up again breaking us from our intertwinement. She removes her hand from my pants and I adjust myself, rolling my eyes at our interruption as my teeth grit with annoyance. We both look at one another with the tiniest bit of shame on our faces, pink and wet with the after-effects of the session. I nod to the side as I silently tell her we’d better go. 

“Wait, Jake,” she whispers, pulling me back by the hand a little. “That’s not what I really wanted to give you.” Her closed fist stuffs into my jacket pocket and drops something inside it, and I watch her coyly turn and walk away with the sweetest smirk on her lips. 

Puzzled, I reach into the pocket and feel the familiar feeling of a small plastic package in my hand. A condom. I can’t help the cheesy smile that crosses my face even if I wanted to. I pull it out to inspect it, looking first and foremost for an expiration date. 

I glance back at her, purely entertained by her bold action. “2034,” she answers the question I didn’t even have to ask. “Actually found a whole box. We’ve got all kinds of time.” She shoots me a wink as she tops back into the gravel pit, going to join the others without me so as not to raise too much suspicion. 

Truly, if she thinks we’re waiting that long, she can go ahead and keep lying to herself. She has no idea what she’s doing to me, and it’s only worsening as the hours tick. For a mere five minutes, my carnal needs completely overshadowed the fact that we’re about to go on a mission that could cost us our lives, and the fact that my brother is currently being fucking brainwashed by entities that belong to another realm completely. I punish myself, but only for a second, as I know for a fact he would go on some big tirade about how humans need sex to thrive and survive in life. He wouldn’t fault me for it at all. In fact, he’d probably celebrate it with me. 

—

“Everyone gather, here is what we’re going to do,” Odin presents himself with a commanding tone, looking each of us in the eye as he speaks. We all take our places near the extinguished fire pit, backpacks and supplies in hand as we all listen intently. I try my best to calm my nerves and take in every detail of his directions, knowing that things could change at the drop of a hat. 

“Josiah and Robbie have reason to believe that your families have been taken to another set of pods just south of here, where no sinkholes have been reported as of yet. These pods are a bit smaller, locked down just as the ones you were in, but if they are going to be anywhere nearby, we assume that it is there,” he explains. “We will travel as a unit, sleep in shifts, and take cover as much as possible under the hindrance of the treelines. The brothers will scout, but we’ve decided it best to arm you, as well.”

Shit. I’ve fired a gun maybe twice, three times in my life? But when it comes to life or death…

The brothers bring us firearms that they’d found inside the home, passing them off to Danny and I. I throw it across my back and hope to the heavens above that muscle memory would kick in, had I need to actually use it. 

“I don’t believe that you will actually need these, as I will be with you always and our most dangerous threat are the hooded guards, of whom I can put to sleep with an arrow,” Odin goes on. “And I’m sorry, we can’t risk the sound of gunshot giving away our location. The smoke from this fire was already too much.”

We all bid a silent goodbye to the house that gave us the shelter we needed, and took off on foot from the coverage of the yard and nearby woodline, watching and waiting for the next threat to come our way.

Y/N

Was I too forward? Did I say too much? Did I move too fast… was the condom overkill?

A million and a half questions are rolling through my mind as we all traverse the heavy trails, making our way south to the other set of pods. We know it will be about a day’s travel, but luckily, with the guidance of Odin and the newfound spirit Sparrow had instilled in each of us, we know the journey will be fruitful. Treacherous, and probably a bit dramatic, but fruitful. Now that we have a better idea of where our families are, and likely Paps, I have a bit more pep in my step to get to him. And to Josh. 

Of course it wasn’t overkill, he reacted exactly how I expected him to. He even said he wanted me. Hello? Me?? I don’t even know what is happening between Jake and I, it’s difficult to even fathom. Just months ago he was an image on my phone screen or a video on my stupid tikok feed, but now. Now… 

I find myself wanting to text my friends again. Say, ‘You are never going to fucking believe this. Like, you’re really not…’, and they really wouldn’t. It’d be too good to be true. It’d take convincing, it’d take proof, it’d take receipts. I can hear them all squealing through voice memos, sending long strings of mismatched letters that don’t form words, immediate facetimes so they could watch me explain myself to their faces. Listen to every detail that we had all envisioned at one point or another in our lives.

But it’d never happen. I don’t even know if they’re all alive. 

“Watcha thinkin’ about?” I hear Sam’s voice suddenly startle me from watching my feet walk across the ground. 

“Oh, ah, nothing. Just…my friends,” I say to him, giving him a sullen smile as I pull my jacket closer around me. “I was thinking about what they’d say if I could tell them that I ended up meeting up with you guys. If they’d believe me.”

“Hm,” he laughs. “You think they would?”

“It’d take some convincing, but, I think they’d know I wouldn’t make something like that up,” I grin, pulling a few pieces of tree limbs away from my path. 

“Crazy that we all ended up here,” he says. “Crazy how we all found each other.”

“I know,” I breathe, glancing to Jake ten or so steps ahead of me. “I never even thought I’d even get to have a conversation with any of you, let alone–”

“Sneak off with one under a porch?” he cuts me off. 

I– oh fuck.

“Sam, what– what are you talking about,” I stutter, my face falling into a deep dark shade of red. Oh my god, if he saw us…

He lets out his classic guttural ha-ha laugh as a particularly harsh wind rips through us. His loud laugh causes Jake and Danny to whip around and look at us, and I shoot them and Sam a deathly glare. But I know that Jake probably notices the worry on my face. 

“I’m not gonna rat you out, don’t worry,” he goes on. “I didn’t see anything… just… watched you sneak off. That’s all. The rest wasn’t my business.”

“The rest?” I squeak, trying to stay quiet. “Sam!”

He’s gritting his teeth together in a huge, shit-eating smile, hissing annoying little laughs as he pulls sticks free from our way. I feel like I could trip him and watch him eat dirt right now, the little twit. Jake keeps turning around and glancing at us; he knows his brother is digging himself a cute little hole to jump into if he isn’t careful. 

“What the fuck do you think happened?” I press, kind of wanting to hear what he has to say. 

“Hey, I said it’s none of my business,” he goes on, puffing his cheeks up with air as he avoids laughing again. “My brother’s love life isn’t any concern of mine.” 

Will you please quit using that word, Samuel…

“God, can you just, not? Please?” I bark in a quiet tone, completely enjoying this back and forth with him. “I already feel weird enough…”

“Why?” he asks way too quickly. 

“Because,” I bite. I toss my hands up, trying to get him to understand. “I was, ya know… A fan, and stuff, and now it’s like..” 

“Oh whatever,” he interrupts me. “Hey Y/N, the goddamn world is ending and all our loved ones got killed by a flesh-eating rash. Yours did, ours did. There’s no such thing as levels of hierarchy anymore, if that’s the way you’re looking at it. We’re just fucking humans, ya know? We’re all just out here trying to survive this shit. Please don’t think like that…” he says a little confrontationally. “We could run into freaking Taylor Swift right now, and she’d still be trudging along in this damned frozen jungle just as we are.” 

I giggle at his comparison, as corny as it is, feeling just a little more at ease. “You’re right, you’re right. Just. Strange, I guess.”

He shrugs. “It is strange, Y/N. Nothing about anything that has happened in the past year is anything close to normal. But… maybe you were meant to run into him in the pods. Maybe it was meant to be this way, who knows?”

I nod, glancing again up to Odin and Sparrow on the horse to make sure they haven’t noticed any threats. 

“You guys are cute together, too,” he adds. 

I roll my eyes. “Ugh, Sam, don’t make me gag. I will shove you down onto this thorn bush.”

“I’m serious,” he laughs. “I don’t mean to poke fun at you. I’m just saying, maybe this is a really, really good thing, Y/N. He seems… I dunno. Excited. Even while worrying about Josh. It’s like you come around and he’s instantly relaxed. I think you have more of an effect on him than you realize.”

“HOLD!” Odin suddenly says from the front of the group, holding his fist high in the air as everyone freezes where we stand. My heart begins pattering as he slowly hops down from his horse, leading Sparrow to do the same. I watch as he pulls his bow from his back and loads it, Sparrow doing the same as she pulls her sword from it’s sheath at her side. 

“Fuck, what’s happening, what’s going on?” I whisper to Sam as he instantly grabs onto my shoulder, quietly leading us nearer to the front with Danny and Jake. 

The brothers bring up the rear and have their weapons drawn and ready. I don’t hear anything, and I don’t see anything, but I do feel Jake’s hand land forcefully on my hip as we gather in a protective circle. 

“Do not fire your weapon unless we say so, got it?” Robbie says to Jake and Danny as he passes, and I feel my heart drop. They both nod in understanding. The brothers exchange a few hand signals as they quickly dash off the trail beside us, keeping eyes with Odin as they scout around. 

“What did they hear?” Jake asks us, and we all shrug as our eyes stay trained on our surroundings. The wind has settled a bit, but the sun is bright and hot as it shines through the leaves of the trees. There’s bits of ice on the tall grasses beside us, and I feel myself become disoriented with the way the weather is working, again. 

I feel my heart pounding in my ears as my eyes scatter around the thick woods, Jake’s hand clutching mine protectively, now. I hear cracks in the trees, I hear steps that don’t sound like steps. High up, and down low. Sparrow backs up toward us, her dusty light following her as the wind floats her long hair into the air. 

A fast glance from Odin tells her something I cannot read, and he quickly hops back onto his horse, kicking his leg into its side as it takes off just off the pathway. They’ve disappeared and we’re still left clueless, the brothers back from their scout and closed in, just as confused as we are. 

“What was that?” I ask Sparrow quietly, my hot breath floating like smoke across the air. 

“More guards, they aren’t very close, but we can sense when they’re near,” she replies. “Their tactics to find us are becoming more clever, as they are now being told that you’re missing from the pods. And that Josiah and Robbie have turned on them.”

“They can come and fuckin’ get us, if they want us,” Robbie snarls as he readjusts his weapon. “Pardon my language, Ma’am.” 

I watch Sparrow smirk, giving him a look that says she is the last one he should worry about offending. 

“Come, let’s continue on,” she says as she draws her sword and keeps it protectively at her side as we keep going. “Odin will alert me if anything is close.”

It feels like my feet don’t want to move without me actively telling them to, now. The fear that’s beginning to settle in my bones has grown tenfold after that scare, and without me being able to see Odin. He has become a wall of peace and protection for us in the past few days, and it feels strange not having him in my line of sight. 

But still yet, Jake’s hand clutches mine, and to me, that feels more safe than anything else in our crumbling world. 

We walk along for another silent twenty minutes or so, clumped together and anxious along what used to be an old worn-in path used by hikers and bikers, now very much overgrown and succumbing to the wild again. Thorns catch on my clothing, and rocks and dirt scatter as I step, but we keep along, our eyes watchful and patrolling as we head south. I wish to god Odin would reappear. 

As we walk in the quiet, my mind drifts to Paps and what he might be doing right now, what they might be doing to him. Watching him be ripped away from me might be one of the most aggravating and terrifying things I’ve ever had to witness, and even though I know he is the strongest man I know, deep down I know that he hides his fears. 

If they really have taken him as a pawn for their testing, will he still have his memory? Will he remember me at all?

I feel a shudder as the frigid air envelops me and bites at the tip of my nose, making me feel like I’m frozen to the core. This cold feels different, especially with the sun shining so brightly. It doesn’t feel like it used to, it almost seems as though the debilitating feeling of fear is sewn into it, nefariously making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. My body doesn’t shake with the chill anymore, but it shakes with the unending fear of not knowing what the next second of my life will hold. What the earth will be doing. If we will be alive tomorrow or not. And the most terrifying thought of it all, is that there is nothing we can do to change it.

The wicked shiver chills me down to my soul…only time will tell.

I miss Paps so badly, and I want nothing more than to get to him. The possibility of their family being in the same pod as Paps is likely, which makes me feel a little bit better, but what are we going to do when we get there? Ambush the place? Sneak in a back door while we try not to get caught?

Surely Odin and Sparrow have thought it through, and I’m sure that the brothers have some sort of plan as to how to infiltrate the building. Or maybe, we’re just flying along with no plan at all. Because truly, none of us know the reality of what we're walking into.

Sam and Danny trail behind me, steadfast and courageous, truly grown into the men that I always envisioned they might have. I know they are just as worried as Jake is of what state of mind we will find Josh in, but I think they are holding it together for him. They don’t want to speak- yet- and bring such a horrific reality to life. If Josh is too far gone, and his mind is not his own anymore, will we have to leave him behind for the safety of ourselves?

I can’t even fathom that thought, right now. There is no way that will be our new reality. Starting a new life without Josh is just…

The sun has begun to slip behind the trees, and I know that the heat will return soon and we will all be sweating in the night air instead of freezing. I’m ready to feel a little relief from this new shiver that’s taken up shop in the deepest tissues of my body. In the back of my mind, I hope that Sparrow’s ability to make us all feel more at ease doesn’t take away from her energy source; she doesn’t know how badly we all need her.

Just as my mind feels as though it’s completely shoved full of too many unanswered thoughts, heavy cloud coverage moves in over the sun and begins casting strange shadows across the thick woods around us, and suddenly, my wicked shiver turns from a physical feeling into a subconscious gut suspicion of uneasiness. 

The wind hasn’t blown in minutes, now. 

I slow my steps, glancing around through the trees as darkness begins to shower us, faster and faster. Odin isn’t back yet, and the air feels as if it is standing still and creeping in around us. Something isn’t right. 

Suddenly I get the urge to pause and listen, stopping myself in my tracks as Sam bumps into me from behind. “Whoa, what’s–”

“Shh,” I hold my hand up to him, watching as Jake has noticed I’ve stopped, too. 

“You’re right, child, something feels wrong,” Sparrow says quietly from in front of Jake. Her hand grips her sword more tightly as she cranes her neck all over, looking up and around and through the woods. My chest tightens as I feel as though I’m preparing myself for something, something that has intention to hurt me. Hurt all of us. The feeling that I had when Paps and I had driven the truck into town and were stopped by those creatures has come back full force. Like a dark black cloud is hanging over me, and there is no way I am ever going to wash the feeling of dread from my psyche. 

Within seconds, the sunlight is almost completely gone. Jake’s hand takes mine again as we all press together in a terrified huddle, the brothers at the edges with their weapons drawn. “What is this? What’s happening?” Jake relents. I feel myself beginning to panic, my head darting side to side erratically as I begin to hear unfamiliar sounds coming from the forest. Not birds, not animals… there is no wind to rustle the trees, and there is no way of seeing what is now surely closing in on us. But I can feel it.

“Stay close, everyone, it seems as though we’re surrounded…” Sparrow says a little more loudly now. Her voice is panicked for the first time since we’ve met her. “Odin, Odin, where are you?” she says to herself, drawing her weapon higher. 

It’s dark, now. Pitch black. The world feels more hollow than it ever has. My skin feels like it could fall from my body as my depraved mindset becomes more and more dreadful. I know that whatever is surrounding us in the shadows is draining every ounce of happiness from my body, and try as I might, I can’t form one positive or uplifting thought. 

“Don’t let it consume you, my loves, don’t let it…” I hear Sparrow's voice as a loud hum begins to eat away at my ear drums, deafening me to almost totality. I grip onto Jake’s hand as we all crowd in together, writhing under the feeling of being so suddenly enclosed and debilitated. I can’t even see what’s around us. Not even Sparrow’s overwhelming power of comfort can match whatever it is they are putting onto us. 

“We should run!” I hear Danny suggest, the drone of the hum making him sound like he is a million miles away. “Let’s go!!” 

I feel him pull away from us as I begin to become disoriented, weakening as the seconds tick. “Jake.. I–” I can hardly form any words as I feel like all my energy is depleting. His hand is still latched tightly onto mine, and I begin to see spurts of light through the darkness of my vision, blurry and bright as my eyelids get heavy. 

“Y/N, no!” I hear his voice in my ear, the sweetest sound I have ever heard. “We’ve got to run, we’ve got to go!” Suddenly I feel as though every emotion has been ripped away from my body. 

Where is my gumption? Nothing matters, we’re all going to die, anyway. 

“Sweet Y/N, run!” Sparrow urges me, too, as I feel Jake begin to pull me along just as I had pulled him through the building as it crumbled into the sinkhole around us back at the pod. 

I can’t move, just leave me here. 

I feel my knees hit the dirt at the same time that I feel many sets of unwelcome hands all over me, burning through my thick coats and jackets as they touch me. The hum grows louder and louder, and my blood grows thicker and thicker. Just leave me…

I’m being pulled two ways- one way with the burning hands and one way toward the man whom I have come to adore so intensely, but I could somehow care less who ends up with me. I don’t even mind one way or the other. My endurance is gone. 

Jake squeezes my hands in the darkness, pulling me with everything in him as I feel Sam and Danny join him in his attempts. “Don’t let go of me, Y/N! Do you hear me!” he screams, his voice so worried and terrified. Why are you so scared, Jake? Why do you care about me? “Don’t let her go, Danny! Don’t let her slip!”

“She’s ours, now, you all belong to us…” I hear the crippling voice of the hooded guard say from behind me. I recognize the sing-song voice from their first attempts at taking us, like sirens luring us into the deepest depths of the night. “There’s nothing you can do, your world is a star defying time… you must come with us…”

Everything is blurry, nothing has shape. The burning hands are gripping at all points of my body, now, as I feel like I’m being ripped in two. I hear Sparrow’s shrieks in the distance, and I feel Jake’s grip on my hands begin to weaken. 

“Sam, Sam, get up! Let’s go! I– I can’t hold you both–”

His hands feel like my only anchors to the earth, sure and grounding, but I can’t find the strength to even try and hold on to them. He’s slipping from me, and it’s then that I realize he’s being pulled by them, too. 

We’re being taken. And there’s nothing we can do to stop it.

“Y/N, baby, please!” I hear his honeyed voice again, still so perfect even when he’s terrified. Don’t be so scared, Jake… you shouldn’t even be worried about me. I mean nothing to you. 

“Let GO of me!!” he yells, but it’s no use. He’s ten paces away from me now as I realize that our hands have finally separated, and the burning hands are still holding me. His screaming voice is nothing but a howl in the distance. “Y/N!!!”

My body feels limp and lifeless as the burning hands hold me upright, pulling my body across bushes and grasses and limbs, my legs and feet falling behind me. But I don’t even care. Why don’t I care? Death is probably soon, anyway. Nothing matters.

The eyes of the creatures taking me are burning a bright red, the drone of the hum still prevalent in my ears. 

Again I hear his voice calling out for me across the hillside, bouncing off the treetrunks and cutting through the warming air as the sound of it warms my soul and kills it at the same time. I want him, I need him… he’s the only thing that’s kept my head above water… But our magnets have somehow lost their polarity. I dig down deep and plead with myself, and whoever in the heavens above will listen to forsake me this one time, and bring me out on the other side of this. I have to help them, I have to find Paps… 

Jake…Please… Don’t let them keep me…

Tags: @gretavangroupie @britney-gvf @sacredstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @farfromthehomelands @takenbythemadness @writingcold @builtbybrokenbells @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @fleet-of-fiction @milkgemini @gvfpal @ageofcj@dancingcarbon @highway-tuna @stardustjake @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @gvfmarge @gracev0609 @myleftsock @literal-dead-leaf @peaceloveunitygvf @ageofbajabule @slut4lando @jordie-gvf @sadiechar @tinydancer40 @rosabellagvf @capnjaket @lyndz2names @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavanomens @spark-my-nature @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk @alwaysonthemend @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs @lipstickitty @hippievanfleet @klarxtr @strange-whorizons @do-it-jakey-baby @myownparadise96 @gvf-luna @starshine-wagner @cassiesgreta @joopsandjangs @whimsiliz @kiszkas-canvas @whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick@kiszka-canvas @whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick @jenniferkiszka @jjwasneverhere @gvfmarge @pineapple-photographer @vanfleeter @gretnavannfleet @pineapple-photographer @joshylanefleet @becinabubblegvf @ageofmach1ne

[her-imperius-condessy]

OK Yeah So Here’s The Thing

Word count today (3,990). The Middle Epilogue (there three ‘technical’ epilogues, I don’t know why I’m like this) is finished. Chapter 19 of 20 is finished. Chapters 15-18 and 20 are still...Percolating.

Word Count on Chapter 15 (18,779). Maybe I can work more on that one now I’ve hammered out the Middle Epilogue. It’ll need polish later, but...Phew. That one’s heavy on the feels.

We are on our way to Tortuga. (Other things happen first. Then things happen after. Stop at San Juan and then they’re on their way to Florida. Which is recommended in fiction only.)

[aethon-recs]

This Week (x2) in Tomarrymort (11 – 24 October 2024)

Bundling 2 weeks’ worth of updates together, sorry for missing last week! In terms of ship happenings, @exquisite-tomarrymort-telephone has been posting a series of fics loosely interconnected by prompts, which started this week and will wrap up next week. 

As before, please feel free to add some extra context to your fic update in the reblog, ie, a little bit about the chapter(s) updated, and I’ll throw it in the update for next week. See below for a recap of the author notes from last week:

friend of the devil (a friend of mine) by @shyinsunlight (E, 17k, WIP) “Red flags are good party decorations, and love can be blind if you keep your eyes shut tight enough. Rodolphus discovers team spirit, and Abraxas finds that his home is no longer his castle.” a pound of flesh by @ictyn (M, 21k, WIP) “Harry, trapped and undying in his own mutilated corpse, must turn inward to find his salvation. Inside his very soul is the key to annoying his nemesis into returning for him. In the end, he'd much rather lose his mind to torture than to eternal boredom.” the precarity of virgin souls by @izharmilgram (M, 4k, complete)  “The second part to on line sex & rabbit stew. It includes dueling, cooking (the rabbit stew!), a first kiss, manipulation, and a horcrux reveal.” the alchemy by @cindle-writes (E, 2k, WIP) “A college AU rom-com wherein Harry is the star of the college baseball team, and tries to convince Tom to go on one, just one, date with him.” Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic (E, 18k, WIP) “In this last update of AAA, Tom explores how he feels about his attachment to Harry. Very fluffy chapter!” Infinite by @moontearpensfic (E, 4k, WIP) “Infinite is a prequel fic to Love, Murder, Horcrux. In chapter one, the boys start their first year of Hogwarts together, and Harry is Sorted Slytherin. I love playing with the dynamics of Harry in Slytherin House in the 90s! We usually see it in time travel fics, but it's great to explore it here.”

I’ll also highlight newly completed multi-chaptered fics, as it’s a wonderful thing to celebrate with the authors as their work comes to an end! 🎉

Part One - The Solitude of Suffering by @iseliljathedreamer (M, 187k, complete) Many things are different and many are the same as Harry begins his fifth year at Hogwarts. Here, living with Dursleys that aren't just neglectful but outright abusive made Harry unable to withstand more than a few weeks of Trelawney's "predictions" back in his third year. Instead, he took Ancient Runes, and uncovered that he had a prodigious knack for runic magic, which opened the door to the darkest of rituals and the magic of mind and soul. A year later, Harry uncovered something horrible within himself - a parasite. So, when Voldemort sends him dreams of corridors and doors, Harry sends him pieces of hell in return.

*

Tomarrymort One Shots and Completed Fic

Chapters 38 and 39 (Completed) of Part One - The Solitude of Suffering by @iseliljathedreamer

One Shot | To be Guarded by @cyandenial

One Shot | nineteen (ten years apart) by @midsummersins

One Shot | compromising positions by @virgil-anon 

One Shot | time and a rabbit foot for luck by @izharmilgram 

One Shot | Aliquot by @crowcrowcrowthing @cindle-writes

One Shot | Pink Shorts by @crowcrowcrowthing

One Shot | Premium Pussy by @hopeforthewitch

One Shot | as sweet as blood red jam by @cindle-writes

One Shot | Locked in Focus by @v33r00

*

Tomarrymort Ongoing Fics

Chapter 22 of What In Me Is Dark, Illumine by @telelli-writes

Chapter 16 of Sits the wind in that quarter by @mosiva

Chapter 10 of Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse

Chapter 37 of With a resolute heart by Act_Naturally

Chapter 5 of some like it hot by @duplicitywrites

Chapter 2 of Touch of Death by @moontearpensfic

Chapters 128 through 130 of Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis

Chapters 18 and 19 of Outrunning the Villain in You by @zenyteehee

Chapter 17 of with eyes like these (who sees anybody else) by @cealesti

Chapter 1 of every step I choose to take begins to set the world aflame by @boyneptunee

Chapters 8 through 10 of Hole in the Wall by tomrddle

Parts 1 through 13 of Broken Tomarrymort Telephone by @exquisite-tomarrymort-telephone

Chapter 1 of throne sex by @xxx-codtyl-xxx

Chapter 113 of In Willing Sacrifice by @hikarimeroperiddle

Chapter 6 of i am anonymous, you are a concrete wall by Pensievable

Chapter 6 of Syzygy by TimaeusKosmou

Chapter 5 of Memories of a Killer by @chemfreak89

Chapter 4 of doublethink by confunded

Chapter 4 of i might be the writer but you'll always be the words by @wixen-writes-tomarry

Chapter 1 of If I were you by @onehitpleb

Chapter 5 of Dreams Beyond Blood by @hikarimeroperiddle

Chapters 3 and 4 of What quickens me is the violence in thee by @i-dream-of-libraries

Chapters 19 and 20 of Learning to love by @l-archiduchesse

Chapters 3 through 5 of Venom or Valor by @lightningant

Chapter 7 of Like we were before by tzutzutrain

Chapter 20 of Date Ideas for the Linguistically Inclined by Antique_Mango

Chapters 1 and 2 of Solitude by TimaeusKosmou

Chapter 23 of Time Stumbler by @wintumnly

Chapters 13 and 14 of Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear

Chapter 6 of Fetters of the Damned by @sc0rpiflow3r

Chapter 2 of A Murder by Crows by @iseliljathedreamer

Chapter 8 of God is a Wizard by @onehitpleb

Chapter 2 of Auror Potter by @albondiguilla

Chapter 15 of A Dead God's Faith by @selfishrot

Chapter 8 of Actus Reus by TimaeusKosmou

Chapter 8 of These Fragments We've Shored by @rowena-rain

Chapter 5 of Dream a little dream (of me) by @cenedrariva

*

[domreader-headcannon-scenarios]

It Fucks with me that straight up

Purgatory hall, the new characters and basically people in Mc//ourlives don’t know what Belphie did in chapter 16 and esp in Nightbringer, like we 100% habe trauma and like straight up makes me wanna write angst but I’m Shitty with it and always fuck it up

So I’m just….gonna ramble under cut about it? //spoilers for both games I suppose!

-

So to start, there’s several instances of the brothers (and in one occasion Barbatos and Diavolo separately) get aggressive towards reader and I like imagine they must have some kinda PTSD since they’ve literally died and honestly I self project and I act nothing like Mc…I’d be in fucking tears miserable over the fact I just got warped in the past without anyone but my mentor

Like I cant see my family, friends or PETS for who knows how long???

Just imagine how it would feel….

You’re already living in a worn down old building since the moment you’ve arrived in the past, where else can you go?? The brothers aren’t friendly, you have not a cent to your name, just what’s on your person the second you’re dropped off and left. You WANT to think things will be ok, Solomon is here to help you so at least you’re not alone but…

You will die eventually, what if this takes too long, and you die here? Will anyone from your timeline ever find out?

Would you family know? Your friends?

Solomon keeps reassuring you that it’s fine, but he’s a sorcerer who’s immune to everything…his own stupidity gave him immortality…maybe if you’re unlucky enough he’d make you immortal and you’d…wait till you could see the brothers ‘normally’ again. Well them and everyone else.

As time goes on you ultimately are forced to continue to try to re friend them. Solomon is equal parts helpful as he is a problem, but it all seems to work out.

Until they find out your human. Why does it matter? You never said you were a demon! You TOLD THEM YOU WERE HUMAN. They laughed it off…why is it your fault…your not like them?

Belphegore was the aggressor, just like before. You don’t know if he was going to hurt you and you didn’t want to find out. You saw his hand reaching towards you, almost like they were going for your throat…

Again…

“Not again!”

You screamed as you collapsed on the ground, hand instinctively going to protect your neck. You’re gasping for air even though you haven’t been touched yet, you’re terrified. Is this really it? Is he really going to kill you again? Did you really think…this would end well, Solomon? Diavolo? Barbatos?…Anyone?

Now you are where you are, trembling and in tears on the ground. But you didn’t feel anyone grab you, you did however feel like someone walked in front of you. To your relief, Solomon had come to your rescue…

You wanted to appreciate it, but all you wanted to do was go home now.

You let out a broken sob, you honestly didn’t care anymore if they saw you like this. You have been through hell and back for these idiots and yet, you still love them so much, so much so that all you want to do is see them again, but the version of them you know.

You love them, they are worth it, but why do you have to suffer for it? Your time in the human world after Devildom…nothing bad happened…maybe…you’re the problem?

With your mind spiraling, you don’t even hear everyone shouting, you don’t hear your name, you don’t hear who says it.

All you can do is cry and hope whoever sent you here shows mercy and let’s you go home.

(Ok now it’s done sorry)

[sinner-sunflower]

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 22/22

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21

STORY 2 - Sequel

I can't believe it?? I made it, Ma!

Luci's General Suit inspired by this FANART on twt by @kajina_97

This is the COMIC that inspired me to write the whole thing because I wanted this ending so bad klajdklsa it's by @Sandranetta_13 on twt

Dk what tomorrow might entai. Might be the first chapter for the sequel?

Let me know what you guys think! Please, I'm very desperate.

I'm willing to do a Q&A regarding your thoughts. DMs and Asks are OPEN! <3

Will link the sequel here once posted

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

Everything was relatively normal the following week. His and Charlie's long overdue moment with no more miscommunication made Lucifer feel a whole lot better. He couldn't ask for a better daughter.

Dressing himself in one of his battle suits, he felt like he could take on the world. Nothing says King of Hell like your best warrior outfit and a badass sword in full display.

Lucifer: Looking pretty dapper there, me.

Lucifer doesn't even bother to style his hair- it now flows animatedly like that of Lilith's.

Flowers were still being sent to him especially when he was first spotted roaming around the hotel after a week-ish long recovery. Charlie had the amazing idea of making a greenhouse or some sort of garden to put all the flowers and keep them alive as long as possible.

They got rid of any red ones after someone sent a buttload of them which then caused him to have a mini panic attack. Alastor is subtly trying to take that moment off his mind by leaving Marigolds everywhere. It's sweet but soon they're going to need a separate greenhouse for just the Marigolds. Where'd he even get these??

Finding his first Marigold of the day, in the bathroom of all places really Alastor??, he makes his way to the lobby. Everyone was there doing their own thing.

Husk and Angel are at the bar as usual, with the latter talking animatedly about something that puts an endearing expression on Husk's face. Nifty is putting on roach puppet shows for Alastor. The radio demon notices him and conveys his most 'help me' face but he just chuckled and gives him a thumbs up. The cyclops named Cherri is today's gift screener, grumbling about the pollen and the shitty taste some demons have.

Charlie and Vaggie were talking to a small group of demons by the entrance. As soon as his daughter sees him, she said something to the group then walked over to him.

Charlie: Good morning, dad!

Lucifer: You look busy.

Charlie: They're sinners who are asking about the hotel! I'm so happy that people are at least coming here to check it out. Did you have a good sleep?

Lucifer: Well, I don't feel like passing out today. So pretty good!

Charlie: That's great, dad!

Angel: Short king! Looking good in that fit!

Cherri: Yeah! Do a spin, hot stuff!

He blushes at the sudden attention. Everyone is looking at him in awe- maybe it was too much?

Alastor: Nonsense, dear.

Alastor appeared beside him in a flurry of shadows, seemingly reading his mind. He bends down at Lucifer's level to whisper in his ear. He plucked the Marigold Lucifer was holding, putting it behind the King's hair.

Alastor: I, for one, think you never looked so.. raveshing~

Damn him.

Lucifer: Shut up.

Lucifer hisses in response. Like, seriously? In front of his daughter? Thank Father, Charlie didn't hear that.

Charlie: Yeah! You look so cool. I don't think I've seen you wear that except for when there's a banquet.

Lucifer: Yeah, well, I wanted to look put together after everything.

Charlie softens at his words.

Alastor: No need for that, sire. I'm sure no one is foolish enough to comment negatively on what the King of Hell chooses to look like.

Lucifer: What does that make you then?

Alastor: Privileged, my King~

Lucifer rolls his eyes at the audacity but he can't help but smile. Man, he never thought he'd miss their constant banter.

Charlie: You look awesome, dad, okay? Al, please slow down with the Marigolds, Nifty's going crazy. Oh! Dad, right, Aunt Bel called said that the Sloth Ring is making incredible progress and that she'll visit again soon. I think Aunt Bee is planning a party with the other Sins and would like it to be held here in Pride! At the hotel! It would be so cool and of course if you're not ready I can tell them and maybe a little get together would be better. I'll even invite Sev! He gave flowers for you too and Vaggie was so jealous when I said he was my ex and thought the flowers were for me, she was so cute-

Lucifer tried, but he stopped listening halfway through his daughter's talk. It was a bit of an information overload but he kept a small, genuine smile on his face for her.

Then something caught his eye that made him stopped smiling altogether.

Charlie notices this causing her to stop talking.

Charlie: Dad?

He should answer but his eyes were locked on the wall behind Charlie. Plastered on the higher part of the lobby's wall was a glowing mark- gold wings with a dot on the center.

Lucifer turns around so fast to look outside the hotel's window. Heaven looks so out of place up there, sticking out like a sore thumb upon Hell's red skies.

A glint in the distance made him act. Without warning, he took off with such force that those inside the hotel were knocked down by the gust of his wings.

He breaks the window on his way out and pulls out Lightbringer. Lucifer brings the sword up and-

A powerful explosion lit up the sky. The sky split in two and fire appeared high and wide over Pride. At that moment, everyone became so hot that they couldn't bear it, as if their whole body was on fire. They wanted to rip their skin off just to get a sense of relief but then the sky shut closed. A strong thump was heard by every demon in the vicinity and then they were all thrown a few meters.

It felt like an eternity before Charlie and the others could get their bearings. Those that didn't get knocked out went outside, once there, they see Lucifer far up in the sky, holding up a flaming sword. The signature pentagram of the city has been fractured by whatever happened and demons all around were either hurt or unconscious.

Charlie: Dad!

Charlie calls out to her dad but he doesn't acknowledge her. His gaze never leaving Heaven, as if he's seeing something that no one else can.

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

A screen locked on Hell zooms out as the machine's voice rang out 'target disengaged'.

An angel looking similarly to Lucifer, except there's blue tints on the spots where Lucifer had reds, was looking down at Hell pulling back a large, golden gun. They blew the smoke residue and sighed.

Michael: Hello, Lucifer... Still causing trouble, I see.

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

it's done??

cliffhanger but don't worry, there's a sequel!

I spent 30 minutes looking for that comic that inspired this ending.

Did y'all catch that Lemmino reference? I'd have that description in my head rent free ever since I watched Grazed by the Apocalypse

Again, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this! This was my first published baby and I'm so proud !

[chiriwritesstuff]

Hometown Glory; 1. Back to the Old House

Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: M

Chapter Summary: Glory and Frankie, two best friends from a small town in Texas, find themselves in different places as adults. They haven't spoken in years, yet find themselves being drawn back home, searching for... something they can't quite explain. Will they be able to find their purpose back to where it all began?

Chapter Warnings and Tags: Strong language, Frankie is going through it, Someone decides it's a good idea to dip in the middle of the night, Sexism in the workplace, Unstable family dynamics.

Word Count: 8k

1995 (16 years old)

It's a school night on a random Wednesday, and you're perched cross-legged in a boy's room, a bowl of popcorn resting precariously on your lap. With a mischievous grin, you snatch the remote control from said boy, clicking it over to NBC as he groans in annoyance.

"Hey! What the hell!" he grumbles in annoyance, "Don't you know it's rude to just take a man's remote?"

"It's my night, remember?" you remind him playfully. "There's a new episode of Law and Order, and I'm dying to find out what happened with Claire!"

"Ugh, not another Drama show, that's the kind of shit my Dad watches," he drawls from above, his arm snaking around your shoulder as he reaches for a handful of popcorn. "I would rather watch something cool, like Party of Five."

You roll your eyes at his protest, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. "Come on, Frankie, let's be real here. We both know the only reason you want to watch it is because you have a huge crush on Neve Campbell," you tease, nudging him lightly with your elbow. "But remember, we made a deal, Frankie baby. Wednesdays are my night!"

Frankie flops back onto his bed, his arms crossed over his chest in a mock pout. "Fine, but I reserve the right to complain the entire time," he declares, a faint smile on his lips. "I mean, at least Claire is kinda hot-"

You playfully toss a piece of popcorn at your best friend. "Anyway, remember when we had to write that paper in Mrs. Miller's class? About what we wanted to be when we grew up?" You lean in closer, your eyes fixed on Jill Hennessy as she paces the courtroom on the screen. "Well, I wrote that I wanted to be just like Claire," you share, taking a sip of Pepsi.

"What, like a lawyer?"

"No, like an actress. Of course like a lawyer!" you exclaim. "I mean, I love to argue-"

"Not correcting you there-"

"... and, it's like, so grown up, right? She looks like someone who has her shit together, but still. I can see myself doing that!"

Frankie groans as he props himself up on his elbows, his warm breath tickling your ear. "I can totally see you doing that," he says with a chuckle, his voice close to your ear. "But hey, you're good at everything you set your mind to, Bella."

"Aw, Frankie... is that a compliment I hear? maybe I should check outside and see if any pigs are flying-"

"Very funny," he scoffs, joining you on the floor and reaching for the bowl of popcorn. "You know you're smart as hell, so I don't doubt that you can do it."

"What about you?" you ask, nudging his shoulder playfully.

"What about me?" he responds, his shoulder bumping against yours. "What do I want to be when I grow up? That's easy. I want to be a pilot."

"So, like... the military, then? Flying Black Hawks and getting everyone to safety? I always knew you had a hero complex," you tease, nudging him again.

Frankie grins, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Yeah, something like that," he says, his voice full of wonder. "I've always wanted to serve my country, you know? And being a pilot in the military seems like the perfect way to do it. Plus, I get to carry a gun," he adds with a smirk. "Chicks dig that, you know?"

"Chicks? Frankie, I love you, but for the love of everything holy, please don't refer to women as "chicks", it's degrading-"

"Some chicks like to be degraded," he quips, cocking his head. "At least that's what the guys say in the locker room."

"Not me though," you muse, resting your head on his shoulder as he settles himself against you more, placing his arm around your shoulder. "I guess that makes me not like other girls, huh?"

You feel the slight rumble of his chest as he chuckles.

You swear you feel the ghost of his lips on your temple.

Frankie leans in, his breath warm against your ear. "No, Glory," he whispers. "You're so much more than most girls."

29 years later.

"Excuse me, I think I heard you wrong."

"No, you didn't," you retort firmly, eyeing the hefty stack of papers across from you, addressing the group of men- the partners and board members of the firm you decided to spend the last ten years of your life at seated before you. Settling back into the plush leather chair, you cross your legs with an air of confidence. "While I appreciate your acknowledgment of my ten years of hard work and the countless cases won," you pause for emphasis, casually inspecting your nails before meeting their gaze head-on, "...if it weren't for a stupid technicality, I'd be hailed as the first female lawyer in the entire state of New York with a flawless record, right?"

"Indeed, we recognize your almost-stellar track record," Nigel, the lead partner of your firm continues, glossing over your achievements like you expected, chuckling as he adjusts his suit collar. "That's precisely why we believe it's the perfect time to bring you on as a junior partner. We think you're ready."

"Junior Partner?" you echo, incredulous, your tone laced with a mixture of frustration and disbelief. "After all these years of fighting tooth and nail against men who were promoted with far less experience, after winning case after case and saving these assholes millions of dollars in alimony payments, I'm still only good enough to become a Junior Partner? Please. Please tell me you're joking." You lean forward, fixing them with a pointed stare, the intensity of your gaze daring them to justify their belated recognition.

The ten men in question, a mix of balding, beady-eyed partners and sharply dressed greying board members shift uncomfortably in their seats. The rustle of their tailored Armani suits rubbing against one another fills the room with a grating sound akin to nails on a chalkboard.

"It took me a decade to even get offered Junior Partner. How many more years until I'm considered for a full Partnership? Another decade?" you ask, your impatience seeping into each word.

"Is there something amiss?" another member of the board interjects, gesturing towards the stack of papers on the table once more. "We don't often extend promotions like this, especially to someone as green as yourself... or any woman, for that matter," he adds with a cough, a smirk playing on his lips as if he's cracked a clever joke. "Most would consider it a gift, wouldn't you agree?"

"I appreciate the offer, truly," you interject, "but I believe my worth exceeds what you're offering." Each word resonates with a sense of determination, a testament to the challenges you've overcome and the achievements you've earned in your career.

With a flick of your wrist, you push the stack of papers back across the conference table, the pages dancing in the air as the men across from you watch in disbelief. The gravity of your decision hangs heavy in the room. "I'm done," you announce firmly, the weight of your words echoing in the silence that follows.

The room fills with gasps as another suit interjects, his face flushed with anger. "I beg your pardon?!" he exclaims. "This isn't a negotiation, and it's a fair offer for someone of your talents," he spits.

You fix him with a steely gaze. "Tell me, Bill-" you retort sharply, "who's the most sought-after associate in this firm? Why do I have gold-digging socialites, cheating tech bros, and trigger-happy celebrities clamoring for a meeting with me at the front desk? Whose face is it on the news when the courts decide to rule in our favor? Certainly, it isn't any of you, that's for damn sure."

Gone is the girl from the small town off the outskirts of Austin, Texas- a former homecoming queen slash magna cum laude loved and cherished by a town that seemed so minuscule compared to the vastness and hunger of your ambition.

You were both a dreamer and a doer, tirelessly working and amassing scholarship after scholarship, grant after grant. Your sights were set on one school only: Yale. You believed that if you couldn't make it there from the start, settling for anything less wasn't an option.

"I'm gonna be like that when I grow up," you declared, flopping onto the lumpy couch as reruns of Law and Order played in the background. Your Nana, her tight, white curls peeking out from the worn brown fabric of her La-Z-Boy, glanced at you with mild curiosity.

"Be like what?" she would reply absentmindedly, her voice raspy from the years of Misty's holding constant residence at the corner of her lips. "Like an actor? Like Jill Hennessy? She's a looker, that one!"

"No, like a Lawyer," you would tease, your eyes locked onto Claire Kincaid as she takes the stand, her sneer icy, her voice strong and confident as she calmly verbally eviscerates yet another rapist, this time one of the shaky-ijustwantedtosmellher-variety, shaking like a leaf as they undergo cross-examination. "She's so fucking cool," you would whisper to yourself, the loud chuckle-cough-chuckle of your Nana as she peers at you from the corner of her eye.

"... but you're such a sweet girl!" she would retort, "how are you gonna win the case when you're so damn nice all the time? those suits would eat you alive, believe you me!"

Your voice rises steadily, like a crescendo building to a climax, until you're finally shouting. All the hurt and embarrassment you've bottled up explodes, coursing through your veins like an unstable chemical reaction. "The reason we're all still in business is because of me!" you declare, your words punctuated by frustration. "Or should I ask Bill in finance for confirmation? Maybe he's mistaken." You unclench your jaw, feeling the tension in your neck as you reach for your phone. "All those high-profile clients? They're loyal to me. If I leave, they'll follow. Think about that."

As the partners exchange bewildered looks, Nigel's discomfort is palpable as he clears his throat. "But... where will you go?" he stammers. "How do you expect to thrive in this industry without the support of a prestigious firm like ours? Besides, no one just turns their nose up at a salary increase of a hundred thousand dollars-"

"Okay, got it. So this isn't a negotiation, and there's no room for reconsideration?" You glance around the room, meeting each of their downturned gazes. Leaning back in your chair, a smirk plays at the corners of your lips as you hold their gaze.

"Oh, don't worry about me," you retort, rolling your eyes slightly. "You don't have to concern yourselves with my well-being. After all, you haven't given a damn about it throughout my entire career here, have you?"

A ripple of anxious laughter echoes through the room, mingled with the partners' disbelief at your audacity. "And just where do you plan to go?" Nigel presses.

With a knowing smile, you rise from your seat, gathering your belongings with a newfound sense of purpose. "Back to where I belong, I suppose," you declare. "Home."

You give the group of men one last nod, your expression firm. "Thank you for the offer, but I don't think this is going to work out," you say, your tone resolute. "And frankly, I've had enough of playing by your rules."

With a final flick of your hair, pin-straight and glossy like Jill, you stride out of the conference room, leaving behind the stifling atmosphere of the sleazy-suited assholes, their mouths agape, completely stunned. As the door clicks shut, you feel a sense of liberation wash over you, like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders.

Good fucking riddance, you think to yourself, walking past your colleagues, their heads bobbing up curiously from their cubicles as they watch you march away. You laugh to yourself at the sight of it, your head held high in defiance. Today marks the beginning of a new journey, one where you refuse to let others dictate your worth or your future.

Back in your corner office, tucked away at the back of the building- a spot they seemed to think was where you belonged, far away from the big boys club, you're surrounded by the familiar trappings of your professional life. The cardboard box on your desk awaits its contents – the remnants of a career spent in a firm that never fully appreciated your efforts, despite your unwavering dedication and the millions of dollars earned in your wake.

Shaking off the sting of humiliation and blinking back the tears of frustration threatening to spill, you begin the task of packing up your belongings. Your framed Juris Doctor is tossed in haphazardly, followed by a flurry of other items scattered across the surface of the box. Three framed photos: two girls, with wide smiles and pigtails, an old woman standing on the porch of a decaying home, and a group of like-looking women, the bright smiles and the promise of the endless possibility of the future in their eyes. Gone is the meticulously styled hair, now hastily tied up in a messy bun as you delve into the depths of your desk drawer. You pull out items in a flurry, tossing them into the box until your fingers come across something unfamiliar, hidden at the very back of the drawer.

Your fingers brush against something soft, and you pull out a faded friendship bracelet. Its beads are strung together to spell out a name you haven't seen in years. The memories flood back, threatening to overwhelm you as you stare at the name engraved on the bracelet.

F-R-A-N-

In an instant, you're transported back to a moment etched deep in the recesses of your mind: small hands trembling as they offer the bracelet to yours, the earnest gaze of a young boy not much taller than you. A tentative smile graces his lips as he extends the friendship offering. "You gave me yours, so I'm giving you mine... that means we're friends, right?"

You accept the bracelet with shaky hands, feeling a warmth spread through you. You smile back at the boy in front of you, his smile widening to match yours. "Right. Best friends!"

A pang of regret washes over you, mingling with a bittersweet sense of nostalgia for the friendship that once meant so much to you. With a heavy heart, you carefully place the bracelet into the box, a silent reminder of the past you've left behind.

Two Weeks later (somewhere in between New York and Texas)

"Okay, let me get this straight. They finally offer you a promotion, and that's when you decide it's the perfect time to quit? Seriously, Glory, please explain that logic to me," your sister's voice crackles through the car speakers as you navigate down the coast, taking another sip of your coffee to steel yourself for the conversation. "I'm begging you, please make it make sense. If management told me I needed to shake my ass to get a wage increase, I would say when and where. Surely, a hundred thousand dollars is a decent offer-"

"Yeah, they dangled a hundred thousand dollar salary bump in front of me, but it's not just about the money," you reply, frustration evident in your voice. "They were going to make me a Junior Partner. Junior. It's like they're saying, 'Hey Glory, you're good, but you're not quite good enough to sit at the big kids' table yet. Maybe in another decade or two, you'll get there.'"

"So what's the plan, then? You're just gonna pack up your office, leave your fancy Upper East Side condo behind, toss your shit in a U-Haul, and hightail it back to Nowheresville, USA? You're seriously going to start your firm in a place you swore up and down and to the heavens above that you'd never return to?" Your sister's incredulous voice echoes through the phone as you navigate the winding roads back to your hometown. "As much as the kids and I would love for you to finally be around, shouldn't you be aiming a bit higher than Fredericksburg? There's nothing here-"

You bite the inside of your cheek, the sharp pain making you wince as the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. Relax, you tell yourself. She's right. You should be aiming higher.

"And don't even get me started on that rundown old house that Nana used to live in. Seriously, Glo, you're going to live in that dump? I wouldn't touch that place with a ten-foot pole, let alone live in it. It's a fucking money pit! You'll lose more money than what it's worth!" she snarks, chuckling to herself. "I know that it was all fun and games, talking about how you were gonna fix up that place, make it your forever home, but that was when we were kids! That place barely has a functioning roof!"

"Well, you must read minds, then." you retort dryly. "Sister, I think that you should think about becoming a psychic, because how did you know?" you sing-song back. "Besides, don't you have a guest room in that place of yours? I remember you asking me very nicely to help you out with the reno you did a few years back as a wedding gift, doesn't that mean that the room is mine if I ever needed it?"

There's a weird, awkward silence that suddenly fills the cab of the U-Haul, and you swear you can hear the gears turning in your sister's brain as she processes the implications of your words, holding your breath as you can feel the wrath that is sure to follow next. You appreciate how predictable your sister always was, knowing damn well that if you had told her that you were actually telling her the truth about your plans on returning home, she would try with every fiber of her being to convince you not to.

"There's nothing here for you, Glory. Nothing but heartbreak and the skeletons that have gathered dust in your bedroom closet. You've always been better than this little old town..." You remember her drunkenly telling you over FaceTime as you down your third glass of Pinot Grigio, your eyes fixed on the blue light radiating from the screen of your MacBook.

Congratulations, the email read. The buyer has accepted your terms, and is expected to move in shortly-

"No, Glo-" she starts.

"The condo sold for over market value-" you offer, a thinly-veiled attempt to try to reason with her.

"Wait. Are you fucking telling me that you're in a U-Haul driving back home? and you're only telling me this now when I haven't even had time to clean out the guest room?! You know how I get when things are left to the last minute-"

"Relax, I'm not going to crash at your house, not when Andrew doesn't know, I've already booked a month at the Hyatt in Austin while I square away the final plans for the house. Think of it this way, if you ever need a place to stay after another one of your husband's benders, you could always sneak away to the hotel room, now that I'll finally be close by. Plus, Hank told me that there's a vacant storefront on Main Street, It's a perfect spot to open the firm-"

"It's just..." Your sister's voice trails off, her chuckle sounding forced. "You always seem to have impeccable timing." There's an odd tension in her tone, a hint of something unsaid lingering between you.

"Impeccable timing, huh?" you prod, sensing there's more to her words than she's letting on.

But before you can dig deeper, she interrupts with a hurried excuse. "Hey, I'd love to chat more, but I've got to run. We'll catch up later, okay? Call me when you get to the hotel, we can grab lunch or something with the kids-"

"Hey, what did you mean about impeccable timing?" you press curiously.

"I gotta go love you byeeee-" she says hurriedly, cutting the phone call.

You're left staring at your phone, a gnawing sense of confusion settling in your gut. Something about her sudden evasiveness doesn't sit right with you, but you push it aside for now, focusing on the road ahead as you continue your journey back home. "Love you too, I guess."

You continue to drive throughout the night, the 26 or so hours that the GPS has estimated your trip to be, refusing to stop for anything other than gas and the occasional bathroom pit stop, grabbing yourself a Buc-ees t-shirt for shits and giggles to commemorate your arrival, breathing a sigh of relief as you eye the “Welcome to Texas!” Sign out in the distance, its surface illuminated by the purple skies of early morning.

"Not much longer," you reassure yourself as you nibble on a sad-looking fruit bowl and sip lukewarm water in the Buc-ee's parking lot. Between bites, you check the time on your phone, swiping away the occasional concerned email from your former associates at the firm.

You raise your phone, capturing the Buc-ee's sign in the distance with your camera app. The empty parking lot reflects the loneliness that has become all too familiar in your adult life.

It's not like I meant for it to be this way, you muse silently, drafting a caption for the photo. "Homeward bound, just a few more hours!" You type out as you hit upload, sharing the moment on your Instagram feed.

As you enter the city limits of the small town you once called home on the way to the Hyatt, you can’t help the wave of nostalgia that suddenly washes over you. You can't help but smile as you pass by familiar landmarks – the public library where you would spend countless hours buried in books, the little Italian place with your favorite lasagna, still in the corner where all of the birthday dinners would be held, the bustling mall, still bursting at the seams with teenagers and young families alike, a place where you and your best friend used to gossip about boys and clothes and how much you hated Mr. Frankel constantly staring at your tits over scoops and cones of ice cream, the shrillness of your combined laughter ringing throughout your ears.

Ex-best friend, you remind yourself bitterly, your knuckles turning white as you clutch the steering wheel. It's a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that the one person you would never think would betray you ending up with the guy you once harbored feelings for. The guy. They probably have a picture-perfect life now, living in some military town with a gaggle of kids, the sound of their laughter echoing in your mind like a haunting melody.

As you drive through the familiar streets of your hometown, memories of you and him start to slowly flood back into your consciousness – lazy afternoons spent together, whispered secrets shared under the shade of a tree. But now, those memories are tainted with a bittersweet ache, a reminder of what once was and what could have been.

You can almost see him now, running around the backyard with their children, his laughter mingling with theirs as they play. The image is both heartwarming and heartbreaking, a painful reminder of the love you lost and the friendship that slipped through your fingers.

With a heavy sigh, you tear your gaze away from the fleeting fantasy, focusing instead on the road ahead. It's time to move forward, to let go of the past, and embrace the uncertainty of the future. But as you drive away, a part of you can't help but wonder – what if things had been different?

As you navigate the winding streets, you can't help but feel a sense of belonging wash over you. This may not have been the life you planned, but somehow, returning to your roots feels like coming home in more ways than one.

After a few more hours of driving, you finally pull up to the Hyatt, grateful for the chance to stretch your legs and unload your belongings. The luxurious lobby offers a stark contrast to the worn-out upholstery of your car seat. With a sigh of relief, you drop off your bags in your room before heading back out onto the road.

As you pull up to your Nana's old place, you can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia mixed with apprehension. The once-charming house now stands in complete disrepair, its paint peeling and windows boarded up. Standing outside the weathered front door, you can't help but shake your head.

"Welcome home, Glory," you mutter to yourself, the words carrying both resignation and determination. With a deep breath, you unlock the door and step inside, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead.

Frankie, two weeks before your arrival.

Frankie forgot how fucking hot it was in Texas.

With a heavy sigh, he turns off the ignition of his truck and gazes at the house he hasn't seen in the last few years. The weathered paint job catches his eye, the deep cracks spiderwebbing across the exterior walls. Once-bright white has faded to a tired tan, and a single bright blue shutter still hangs slightly askew from his bedroom window.

"Shit Frankie, do you think your pop is gonna kill me for that?" The voice seeps into his thoughts, unbidden. He shuts his eyes tight, battling against the memories he's long kept buried deep in the recesses of his brain.

His ears catch the familiar sound of tinkering echoing from the depths of the carport beside the house, still cluttered with dismantled shells and rusty car parts. He recognizes the soft grunts of his father as he works on yet another car he decided to fiddle with probably after spotting it abandoned on the roadside.

I've been gone for more than twenty years, and yet, it feels like nothing has changed, he muses to himself, shaking his head in disbelief.

Frankie lets out a groan as he swings open his car door. His legs feel like lead, knees protesting from the strain of hours spent behind the wheel. He's just made the long haul from his actual home in Florida, leaving behind his daughter and the life he's built there for the last fifteen or so years.

Or tried to, at least.

The notion of divorce loomed over Frankie's thoughts like a persistent shadow, coloring every interaction with his wife. Even in the mundane moments of their daily life, he couldn't shake the feeling of their impending separation. It was as if they were constantly tiptoeing along the edge of a cliff, one wrong step away from falling into the abyss of divorce.

He found himself distancing emotionally, a subconscious defense mechanism against the possibility of heartache. Small disagreements turned into major rifts, each argument fueling the belief that their marriage was irreparable. He couldn't help but imagine a life without Chelsea, even as they sat across from each other at the dinner table or shared a quiet moment on the couch.

The weight of his doubts pressed down on him, clouding his perception of their relationship. Frankie had never truly loved his wife; their relationship was born more out of convenience and familiarity than genuine affection. He often wondered if Chelsea sensed his lack of affection, if she felt the absence of passion and connection that should have been the foundation of their marriage.

Guilt gnawed at him, knowing that he had never given Chelsea the love she deserved. He had entered into their marriage with a sense of obligation rather than devotion, and now he was trapped in a cycle of discontent and disillusionment. Divorce had become more than a possibility; it had become a constant companion, lurking in the shadows of their marriage.

Fuck. She never stood a fucking chance.

So, with a heavy heart and a mind full of fucking turmoil, he'd packed up his car and hit the road, effectively abandoning his wife and kid like a fucking coward, driving with no destination in mind until he found himself back in the town where it all began.

Frankie's chest tightens at the memory of Lily's desperate pleas, her small face etched with fear as she begs him not to leave. He had thought he was being discreet, tiptoeing past her room, his rucksack slung across his back. Pausing in the dim light, he takes a long look at his daughter, knowing he might not see her again for some time. "I love you, baby girl," he whispers, his voice barely audible as he gently closes her door, the click echoing in the quiet hallway.

He pushes open the door leading to the garage, grateful that he had the foresight to leave the garage door open earlier in the evening. It was a calculated move, part of his plan to make a quiet exit from this house that never felt like a home. He had thought about his grand escape throughout dinner that night, opting to remain silent as he tuned Chelsea out, her words of her displeasure falling on deaf ears as he nodded in agreement, cutting into his meatloaf as he slouches himself down his chair.

Lousy, lazy husband. Neglectful and absent father. The biggest disappointment and regret of her fucking life. Coward. Fucking Coward.

Ah, there it was.

I bet you wish that it was her, huh? I bet you wish that it was her pussy that you were fucking instead of mine, right Frankie? Chelsea would accuse, her hand motioning for him to pass over the mashed potatoes in the same breath.

Hell. She isn't wrong.

He thought his plan was about to unfold smoothly, exhaling a sigh of relief as he set his rucksack in the bed of his truck. Then, he heard it—the unmistakable creak of a door opening, followed by the soft padding of feet on concrete, drawing closer from behind. With a heavy heart, he closed his eyes, bracing himself for the pain he knew was coming.

"Daddy?" his daughter's sleepy voice broke the silence of the darkened garage. "Where are you going?"

Frankie's heart sank at the sound of Lily's voice, her innocent question piercing through his resolve like a knife. He turned around slowly, his eyes meeting hers in the dim light filtering through the garage.

"Lil, sweetheart," he began, his voice catching in his throat as he struggled to find the right words. "I... I have to go away for a little while." His chest tightened with every word, the weight of his decision heavy on his shoulders.

"Why?" Lily's voice trembled with confusion and fear, her small frame shivering in the cool air of the garage. She took a hesitant step closer, her eyes searching his face for answers.

Frankie knelt down in front of her, his heart breaking at the sight of her tear-filled eyes. "It's... it's complicated, baby," he said softly, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face. "But I promise, I'll come back for you. I love you so much, Lily. You're my everything."

Lily threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder as she sobbed. "Please don't go, Daddy," she pleaded, her words muffled against his shirt. "I need you."

Tears pricked at Frankie's eyes as he held his daughter close, his own heart breaking with every second that passed. But he knew he had to go, for both of their sakes. With a heavy heart, he gently pulled away from Lily's embrace, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I'll always be with you, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I promise. I'll come back for you, but you have to stay with Mommy for now, okay? I swear I'll come back for you."

As he stood up and turned away, leaving Lily behind in the garage, Frankie couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that weighed on him like a lead weight. But deep down, he knew that he had to do this—to find a way to be the father Lily deserved, even if it meant breaking both of their hearts in the process.

His throat tightens as he relives that moment, the memory etched vividly in his mind like a relentless nightmare. He can still see Lily's tear-stained face, her eyes pleading with him not to leave, her small hands reaching out for him as he walked away, the way her small form looks back at him as he looks at his rearview mirror, getting smaller and smaller as he drives out of the cul-de-sac like a fucking coward. The weight of her despair presses down on him like a vice, suffocating him with guilt and remorse.

Frankie silently makes his way over to the carport, his father's familiar silhouette outlined against the fading sunlight. He watches as his dad tinkers away, lost in his own world of gears and grease. With a smirk playing on his lips, Frankie leans against the doorframe, soaking in the scene before him.

"When I left, I was saying goodbye to a pair of feet under a fender, and I come home years later and it's like you haven't moved an inch," Frankie quips, his tone laced with affection and a hint of disbelief. "Are you sure you ain't dead under there, old man?"

His dad chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that fills the air. "Nah, still kicking, just like always," he replies, not bothering to look up from his work. "You, on the other hand, look like you could use a good night's sleep."

Frankie rolls his eyes, but there's a warmth in his chest at the familiar banter. Despite everything that's changed, some things remain constant – like the easy camaraderie between a father and son, even after years apart.

Frankie's dad finally emerges from under the car, wiping his hands on a greasy rag as he beams at his son. "Well, well, look who's finally back home, a child of mine finally appears!" he says with a grin, opening his arms for a hug.

Frankie steps forward, enveloped in his dad's embrace, the familiar scent of motor oil and sawdust washing over him. "I'm your only child, Dad, or did you forget?" he teases, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

His dad chuckles, patting Frankie on the back. "No, son, I didn't forget," he replies with a twinkle in his eye. "But you always knew who my favorite was."

Frankie nods solemnly, his eyes squinting in the distance, not wanting his mind to go there. He clicks his tongue. "So-"

"I assume that your sudden appearance has something to do with that wife of yours screaming into my voicemail about you abandoning your family in the middle of the night?" his dad asks, a hint of concern lacing his words as he studies Frankie's expression.

Frankie lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping as he meets his father's gaze. "Yeah, Pop," he admits, running a hand through his hair. "Things with Chelsea... they haven't been working for a while now. I couldn't stay there anymore. I had to get out."

His father's expression softens, concern etched into his features. "And what about Lily? How's she taking it?" he inquires, his voice laced with worry as he thinks of his granddaughter.

"Yeah, she was torn up about it," he admits, his voice heavy with sorrow. "But I couldn't just take her. Chels would accuse me of kidnapping, and you know how the courts always side with the mother. I can't risk getting arrested again. Not after what happened last time."

"Well, that seems about something she would do, I guess," his father surmises, "... but what the hell are you doin' back here? I swore the last time I saw you, you told me you would never step your foot back here, especially with what happened with Glory-"

Frankie cuts him off, his jaw tensing as he steels himself against the memories threatening to resurface. "Look, Dad, let's not go there, okay? It's been years, and I've moved on, she's moved on," he says, his tone firm. "I'm just here to figure things out, clear my head. I don't need to worry bout no skeletons in my fucking closet, especially when I know for a fact that she ain't here no more to spook me."

Frankie's dad pauses, his gaze distant for a moment before he speaks again. "You know, son, I always loved her like my own," he says quietly, his voice tinged with regret. "She was like family to us, and seeing her leave was one of the hardest things I've had to witness. It broke my heart, and I know for a fact that it broke yours, too. Maybe if she had stayed... you wouldn't be here standing on my front lawn, hiding from your wife."

Frankie's chest tightens at his father's admission, a pang of guilt gnawing at him for the pain he caused. "I know, Pop," he replies softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wish things had turned out differently."

"Yeah, well... shit happens, I guess." His father slaps his hand on his shoulder once more, motioning towards the house. "Come on, I got a pot of Chili that’s been simmering for the last few hours, I reckon it should be ready right about now. Go grab your shit and come help me set the table after you get settled, alright?"

Frankie nods, giving his father one last smile as he makes his way back to his pickup truck, slinging his military-grade duffle over his shoulder. Groaning, he makes his way up to the old house, the floorboards of the patio creaking as he opens the front door, the smell of his father's chili wafting in the air. He takes in the familiar sight of his living room, still the same as he left it all the years ago.

The same lumpy couch, the imprint of his father forever immortalized in his spot where he watches reruns of Pawn Stars and Columbo, greeted Frankie as he stepped into the living room. The faded fabric sagged under his weight as he lowered himself onto it, memories flooding back with each creak of the worn-out springs.

As Frankie's gaze shifted to the mantle, he couldn't help but notice the familiar photos arranged there. His eyes lingered on the one of him and his mother, her radiant smile captured forever in the frame. Beside it was a picture of you and Frankie as kids, arms wrapped around each other in a tight embrace, the innocence of youth reflected in your beaming faces.

Frankie's breath caught in his throat as he noticed a new addition to the mantle – a photo of you and his father in front of the Christmas Tree at Rockefeller Center. His father's arms were proudly slung around your shoulders, and both of you wore wide smiles that reached your eyes. It was a moment frozen in time, capturing a bond that had evidently formed in his absence.

"Well, what are you doing just sittin' there? Table ain't gonna set itself."

Frankie rolls his eyes at that. Yep, shit hasn't changed a bit. "Placemats still in the same drawer?"

"Unless someone moved them, which I highly doubt, being that it's just been me in this house for the last fifteen years," his father replies with a weary sigh, retrieving a steaming casserole dish from the oven and setting it on the stove. "Made some of that cornbread you like so much too," he adds with a wink. "Your Mama's recipe, not that boxed shit."

As they arrange the table settings, Frankie's father casts a cautious glance at him, a hint of concern in his eyes. "So, besides your marriage, How's everything going, son?"

Frankie lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging as he carefully places the silverware beside each plate. "Could be better, Dad. Could be a lot better."

His father's expression softens with understanding. "I heard about what happened. You doing okay?"

Frankie nods, though the weight of his recent troubles still hangs heavily on him. "Yeah, I'm managing. Just trying to figure things out."

His father places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You know, son, we all make mistakes. What's important is how we learn from them and move forward."

Frankie meets his father's gaze. "Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it."

His father's fork hovers awkwardly over his plate, his gaze fixed on the food as if it holds the answers to questions he dare not ask. "Dig in, for fucks sake. Don't let it get cold."

Frankie senses an opportunity to steer the conversation elsewhere, away from the awkwardness. "Hey, Pop," he begins, trying to sound nonchalant, "I couldn't help but notice that photo on the mantle. Is it new?"

His father pauses, then looks at him, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he answers, "The one from New York? Yeah, it's recent."

"How recent?" Frankie probes further, his curiosity piqued.

His dad casually tears off a piece of cornbread and dips it into his chili, shrugging. "About three months ago," he replies, his tone casual. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm just surprised, that's all," Frankie says with what he hopes is casual, stabbing his spoon into his bowl, pushing the pieces of beans and corn around, refusing to make eye contact with his father who is surely gazing back at him with the quirk of his brow. "Wasn't aware that the both of you were still close," he mumbles, the sight of your bright wide smile feeling like death by a thousand cuts straight into his jugular. “Never thought that you would actually leave this fucking place, let alone go to New fucking York.”

"Well, we haven't stopped being close, son. Did you know that she sends me a bottle of tequila every year on my birthday? Noticed the difference in quality as the years gone by, she's doing quite alright up there in the big 'ol apple." Frankie hears his father make a noncommital snort as he continues to eat. “Besides, she asked me to visit her the last time she was in town, and I ain’t getting any younger, have to enjoy life somehow, right?”

You still remembered his father's birthday. Do you still remember his? he wonders silently.

He strains his eye at the label of said tequila bottle, near the center of the dinner table. José Cuervo 250 Aniversario. Twenty-one hundred off the shelf, easy. A soft snort escapes his lips, shaking his head. Well, at least you still remembered your shit.

"You know, she's one of those lawyers that deal with family stuff," his father muses, chuckling to himself as he gets that gleam in his eye when he realizes he has a (stupid, but convenient idea). "Maybe you should-"

“No.”

“I could even be the one to call her, I know she won’t say no to me-“

“Pop-“

“She’s still single, you know.”

“I don’t know what her being single has to do anything with my divorce-“

“She never really got into anything serious, at least she never told me… but I knew. She was too busy for it, you know? Too distracted. Told her she should stop playing ball with the boys and start her own firm back here."

Frankie's father continued, a wistful tone creeping into his voice as he reminisced. "She always had that fire in her, just like her grandma. I remember when she was just a kid, always standing up for what she believed in, never backing down from a challenge. That girl could argue her way out of anything."

Frankie listened quietly, his mind racing with memories of Glory's fierce determination. Despite their differences, he couldn't deny the admiration he held for her unwavering spirit.

"Yeah, well, she's probably forgotten all about this place," Frankie muttered dismissively, though a small part of him hoped it wasn't true.

His father's gaze softened, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes.

"Maybe. But some things, some people, they never really leave you, no matter how far you go."

"Why settle for Fredericksburg when she's killing it up there?" Frankie says bitterly, his frustration palpable. "She's made it clear that there is nothing for her here besides her sister, and her Nana has been gone for a while now. This place is a shithole, honestly."

"If it's such a shithole, then why the fuck are you here then?" his father challenges, his irritation evident as he stabs his salad with more force than necessary. "It might not be fancy like New York or as interesting as Tampa, but it's your home, son. It's her home, too."

"Well, I'm glad to know that you still gave a damn about somebody after all these years," Frankie retorts quietly. "... and here I thought I was your actual child-"

"What do you want me to say, huh? I feel like you're trying to insinuate something here, son, so just be a fucking man for once and spit it out!"

"Why didn't you visit me, huh? If you had so much time on your hands, why her and not me?"

"What, so I could bear witness to the shitshow that's your marriage? Do you think I like watching you suffer?" his father shouts, slamming his fork on the table. "Your wife can barely stand being in the same room as me! I ain't gonna waste my time spending it with people who clearly don't want me there."

"Well maybe if you didn't find the need to compare her to Glory all the damn like you did, maybe she would have made my life a fuck of a lot easier, don't you think?"

His father's expression shifts, a mix of surprise and guilt flickering across his features before settling into a resigned acceptance. "Son, I never meant to make things harder for you," he starts, his voice softer now, devoid of the earlier hostility. "But you gotta understand, Glory was special. She was... different. And I know I shouldn't have let that affect how I saw your wife, but I guess old habits die hard."

Frankie's shoulders tense as he absorbs his father's words, a bitter taste lingering in his mouth. "Well, you certainly made it clear where her place was in your eyes," he mutters.

His father sighs heavily, his gaze dropping to his plate. "I know, son. And I'm sorry for that," he says, his tone laced with regret.

Frankie's jaw clenches as he struggles to contain his frustration. "Yeah, well, easier said than done," he grumbles, his gaze flickering to the tequila bottle on the table, a stark reminder of the divide between them.

His father rises from the table, his movements slow and deliberate, as if weighed down by the gravity of their conversation. "I'm heading to the bar," he announces quietly, his voice tinged with resignation. "Don't wait up for me."

Frankie scoffs under his breath, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "Typical," he mutters, bitterness seeping into his words. "Always running away when shit gets dicey. Coward."

As his father reaches the door, he pauses, casting a sorrowful glance back at Frankie. "Takes a coward to know one, son," he says softly, the words heavy with unspoken regret. Then, without another word, he slips out into the night, leaving Frankie alone with his thoughts.

With a frustrated grunt, Frankie snatches the tequila bottle from the table, his movements rough and unceremonious. He doesn't bother with a shot glass, instead opting to take several swigs straight from the bottle. The fiery liquid burns as it travels down his throat, but he hardly notices it amidst the tumult of emotions swirling inside him.

"Fuck," he curses. "Welcome home, I guess."

Clutching the bottle tightly, he trudges up the stairs to his bedroom, the weight of the day settling heavily on his shoulders. As he disappears into the darkness of his room, the only sound that fills the empty house is the quiet echo of his footsteps on the creaking floorboards.

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[anniemika]

Lost and Found

Eren Jaeger x Female Reader

Chapter IV: One Step at a Time

Chapter summary: Searching for a path to your forgiveness, Eren yearns to bridge the gap his absence has left in your and your daughter’s lives, realizing how hard it’s going to be with every step of the way.

Words: 14.2k

Chapter 3

A/N: Yeaaah… it’s not like I’m 6 months late lol. I’m sorry for the long wait. I thought about splitting the chapter into two, but then again, you’ve waited for so long, might as well post the whole thing. I’m so very grateful to everyone who asked me about this story. It means a lot because believe me, it is hard to write such complex relationships, so having you have real interest in it means the world.🥹🫶🏻 hope you enjoy it!!

…..

Eren knew the path to your house by heart.

Even though you lived on the other side of town, he still remembered how he would walk you home everyday, and then walk all the way back to his house. It was your “thing”. He never let you go home by yourself. 

But now, as he drove his black BMW, that looked absurd as opposed to the quaint streets of your simple town, he realized he never felt this nervous going to your house before. Even when you were teenagers and he’d spend the entire way thinking of a way to kiss you, it didn’t come even close to how anxious he felt at the moment. Because back then, he had nothing to lose. Now, with everything he held dear hanging in the balance, the weight of his fears bore down on him.

He parked his car beside the fence of your house, that looked exactly the same as it did the first time he walked you home. Light blue, with a little marking at the entrance that was his doing. He remembered how he’d taken a red marker and written yours and his initials on it. It wasn’t big enough for your mom to see, but both of you knew it was there. As he stepped outside, his eyes became glued to it. He wondered if Lily ever noticed and perhaps asked you about it.

He looked at the porch, the one he used to kiss you on, and it transported him right back when you were 16. When seeing you walk out the door and towards his arms was the most important thing in the world. He felt like an idiot for ever thinking there was anything else that could come close to that feeling. 

His legs carried him to the front door, the familiar creak of the porch serving as a reminder of all the times he’d stood on this threshold, waiting for you. His heart pounded inside his chest as he lifted his hand to knock on your door. The little person that appeared in front of him was not the one he expected to open it.

Lily peered up at him, her eyes curious as she hid half of her tiny body behind the door, only her head peeking behind it. 

“Hey there, Lily.” Eren smiled at her, a little nervous as he looked down at his little copy, “Is your mom home?"

Lily continued to stare up at him, ignoring his question with her own, "Who are you?"

Eren froze in his place. How the hell was he supposed to introduce himself? 

He swallowed thickly, but still maintained his smile, “About time I told you my name, huh? It’s Eren. I'm-”

"Are you my mom's new boyfriend?" The little girl looked at him skeptically.

Eren found himself at a loss for words by the straightforwardness of the question. He began to think, trying to come up with a  response that would answer her curiosity without delving into the complicated nature of his relationship with you. 

“No, I’m not. I’m.. an old friend of hers.” The moment the words were uttered, he felt a surge of frustration run through him. You weren’t just friends who’d lost touch over the years. To reduce everything you’d gone through together to a mere friendship that had just faded away felt like a whole new betrayal. But still, as much as he wanted to, Eren knew he couldn’t tell the beautiful little girl in front of him the truth. Not just yet. “I really need to talk to her. Is she here?”

“Lily, I’ve told you not to open the door-“

You appeared in a flash, and Eren could sense your protective instincts kicking in, like a mama bear ready to defend her cub. You were in your bath robe, which made Eren a bit uncomfortable, appearing on a Sunday and catching you off guard. When your eyes landed on him, they widened, but he had to fight his from going down to your collar bones. Don’t, you asshole.

“Hey.” His voice was low and gentle, but that didn’t stop your frown from appearing. He watched as you instructed Lily to go inside, who sent him a smile before telling him bye.

“Bye, Lily.” Seeing her go inside, he wondered when he’d be able to see her beautiful smile again. Like he always wondered if he’d ever be able to see yours.

“Why are you here?” You brought his attention back to you, sensing the guardedness in your voice. Looking at him like he was your enemy, like he wanted to do you harm. He hated it.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, but I really need to talk to you.” He had the feeling you’d say no, so his first instinct was to cut you off. “Please, Y/n. Just an hour, whenever you can.”

He could only imagine how you must be feeling right now, put on the spot like that. But Eren had no other choice.

You studied him for a moment, your eyes revealing nothing. Eren’s heart was in his throat. He didn’t know if he should say something, plead with you again, or just remain silent. He decided on the latter, even though it was excruciatingly difficult to withstand your penetrating stare.

“You can’t just keep showing up like this. You know that.”

He did. It felt so wrong to disturb your life like this, but his selfishness was stronger than anything else inside of him.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He did his best to stop his voice from wavering. “I won’t bother you, I promise. Just please consider it.”

It felt like hours going by as he waited for you to say something. His fists clenched and unclenched as he struggled to tear his gaze away from you, his eyes drinking in every detail that had been denied to him for so long. He wanted to memorise your face in case you shut the door in his. Here, right now, in this vulnerable state, with your face untouched by make up, your hair casually gathered into a messy bun, body wrapped in your bathrobe. He watched you instinctively trying to shield yourself from him, a physical barrier reflecting the emotional walls that had been erected between you. 

But to Eren, you were more beautiful like this than ever before.

“Fine.” The word rung in the air, and it took a second for Eren to grasp it, “Tomorrow, 2p.m., Daisy cafe. It’s my lunch break, so I won’t have an hour.”

His green eyes almost dilated, his face contorting into a smile. He wanted to wrap his arms around you, barely stopping himself. You were giving him a shot. He couldn’t possibly ask for more. “Yeah, sure, of course. Thank you.”

“Okay, then.” You cast your eyes down at your feet. Eren could sense you weren’t comfortable looking at him. “We have to get going, so..”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” He moved back a bit as if not to intrude your space. “I’ll- I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Bye.”

A heart beat later, you’d closed the door.

Eren lingered on your porch for a moment longer, basking in the afterglow of your agreement. His heart drummed a rapid rhythm in his chest, the echo of his pure bliss. You were going to talk to him. That glimmer of hope managed to fuel his determination like nothing else. It was euphoric, almost like he was floating. As he slid into his car, the scene replayed in his mind like a movie scene.

As he navigated the familiar streets, his smile was unwavering, a childlike glee etched on his face. The sudden ring of his phone disrupted the serene silence of the car. The device was new, its number known only to his father, which made the incoming call a curiosity. His mind flickered to the luggage he had left behind at the hotel, intended for his old house. The call, he thought, was likely related to that.

The moment he picked up, he regretted it.

“Hello!?” 

Shit.

It was Hange. His manager.

How the hell did she get this number?

“It was about damn time, Eren!”

He sighed. He should’ve known they wouldn’t let go of him that easily.

“What do you want, Hange?”

“What do I want? What do I want!?” Her laughter echoed in the car, but it was laced with bitter irony. “Do you have any idea how much time I spent trying to find you? You bailed out on us and left without so much as an explanation!”

“I think I gave enough of an explanation.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, I forgot about the “I’m done living this life anymore” crap. Sorry if I didn’t believe you after saying it for the hundredth time without actually doing anything about it.”

“You can believe what you want. The reality is, I’m done.”

A brief silence ensued before she spoke again, her voice unusually grave.

“Eren, are you on drugs again?”

He didn’t know why, but it made him laugh, “Actually, for the first time, I’m as sober as can be.” He took a deep breath before speaking again. He had to end this once and for all. “Hange, I’ve talked to my lawyers. I want out of the contract.”

“You can’t do that, Eren. The contract’s not done for another year!”

“Watch me.”

“Eren, where the hell are yo-“

He ended the call before she could finish her sentence. 

He recognised the unfairness of his actions. Hange was a good manager, even though he was sure she’d gone nuts after so many years of dealing with him and his band mates. But if he wanted to get his old life back, he had to leave this one behind. For good. 

…..

10 years ago

The last day of school. A day that set you free from the tight grasp of constant homework and irritable teachers. A day that also somehow seemed to amplify the pounding in a certain green eyed boy’s heart as he laid next to you on the lush green grass, the school building mere meters behind you, forgotten for the next three months.

Eren thought tenth grade wasn’t like any other grade before it. It was the most fun he’d ever had at school, and the strange thing was, he didn’t even get into that much trouble. Well, if he really got to think about it, he knew there was a reason behind his change. Ever since that rainy day you opened up to each other for the first time, you’d become inseparable. It was so weird - one day, you didn’t even know that much about each other, then the next - he was walking you home and telling you about his dreams. You did, too. About life and your fears and your hopes. Late night conversations had become a regular occurrence, sharing every little thought, like and dislike with each other. And the best thing was, there was no judgement. It was a safe space between you two, a time when the world faded into the background and it was just you and him, baring your souls to one another. There were nights when the topics were deep and introspective, delving into the complexities of life and the future. Others, the conversations were light-hearted and filled with laughter, going into the early hours of the morning.

Sitting together in class, at lunch, and even after school became the norm for both of you. It was as if you were two pieces of a puzzle, blending seamlessly into each other’s lives. Eren found himself looking forward to each day, eager to see your smile and hear your voice. Your presence brought him a sense of comfort and happiness that he had never experienced before. He admired your strength and your ability to see the beauty in even the smallest things. Your passion for life ignited a fire within him, inspiring him to write about subjects he had never thought of before, like.. love.

Eren couldn't deny the growing feelings he had for you, feelings that went beyond friendship. He found himself captivated by your every word, your every smile, and your every touch. The way his heart raced whenever you were near was a clear indication that his emotions had transformed into something deeper. And, as dense as he seemed, he couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in your interactions as well. The lingering gazes, the gentle brushes of hands, and the way your laughter seemed to fill the air with an extra sparkle whenever he was around.

But, as much as Eren thought he knew what was hidden behind your actions, he couldn't shake the uncertainty that clouded his mind. He questioned whether you actually felt the same way, whether his heart's desires were reciprocated. The fear of jeopardizing the beautiful connection you shared kept him from confessing his feelings outright.

Yet, the last day of school marked a turning point, a moment when Eren decided to seize the opportunity that the summer break presented. He couldn't bear the thought of spending one more day in the dark, hiding his feelings from you without knowing if there was a chance for something more to happen.

As you both laid next to each other, Eren's heart beat like it never had before. He mustered the courage to take your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through his veins, reassuring him that he was on the right path.

With a trembling voice, he turned to you, his heart on his sleeve. "I've been wanting to tell you something," he waited for you to look at him before he continued, trying not to get lost in the pretty hue of your eyes. "This past year with you has been the best time of my life. You've become my best friend and.. so much more.”  His mind repeated that he should turn his face away from yours, or else he might burst into flames. Nonetheless, the grip he had on your hand tightened. Go on, you idiot.

“But Y/n, I.. I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

At that, your eyebrows arched, mouth falling slightly agape in confusion. That’s when you really noticed the redness of his cheeks, the vulnerability in his eyes. It was a look you hadn’t seen on his face before.

"Truth is.. I'm in love with you.” There it was, out in the open. He’d done it. There was no turning back now. 

Watching your eyes go wide brought him a kind of anxiety his heart couldn’t handle. His hands had been sweating for the past 5 minutes, and he prayed to god you hadn’t noticed. And if he could get a glimpse of what was inside your mind, he’d realise that indeed, you hadn’t noticed, because there was nothing else that could get your attention except for his confession that was heavily hanging in the air. 

Your mind replayed the word what, what, what, over and over again, and you thought about pinching yourself to be absolutely sure this was happening. He was in love with you. Eren just confessed he was in love with you. The boy you’d spent ninety percent of your time with, who’d become your best friend, confidant, shoulder to cry on when your dad forgot to call you on your birthday, who’d made you laugh until you had tears prickling your eyes, who’d walked you home every single day after school even though he didn’t have to, who’d given you his lunch when you didn’t bring one yourself. That Eren. YourEren.

The silence had gone on for too long. The green eyed boy felt the need to fill it, hoping he didn’t screw things up beyond repair.

“But I want you to know I understand if you don't feel the same way. Our friendship means a lot to me, and I don't want to jeopardize that."

You blinked a few times at him, your mind racing, trying to comprehend all the emotions swirling within you. You had to say something, even though your breath was caught in your lungs. 

“I..”, you began, unsure of where to go. It was your first experience with.. situations like this. And if the person lying beside you was any other boy, it probably would’ve been a lot easier. But this was him. And because of how much he meant to you, it was scarier than you could’ve imagined. 

But even though you were scared, you were also thrilled. Because, the fact of the matter was, you were head over heels for this boy. 

“Can I tell you something too?” You asked quietly, eyes unconsciously focused on his lips. 

“Of course.”

You didn’t even realise when it was you’d leaned in. But you did. With your lips gently caressing his, for the briefest moment. Then back you were, staring once again at those plump, soft lips you’d just kissed.

Eren’s mind struggled to catch up with what just happened, his stare going back and forth between your cherry lips and pretty eyes. The fact that you initiated this kiss, your first kiss, meant that he wasn’t wrong, that there really was something more between you. It was a validation he had desperately hoped for but never expected to receive. 

With great effort, he steadied his breathing and met your gaze, bringing his hand to gently cup your cheek. His touch was tender, timid, but filled with warmth and affection. 

"I... didn't expect that," Eren stammered, his voice soft and low. "But,” he gulped, eyes traveling down to your cupid’s bow, “I liked it. I really liked it."

Your cheeks flushed pink, a shy smile tugging at your lips. You turned to your side, facing him fully, and placing your own hand on top of his.

“I’m glad.” You whispered, “because… I’ve been falling for you too.”

You could almost feel the relief of his exhale, as if a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Then a gentle smile, the same one you’d been falling for for the past year, adorned his face. “You have?”

You nodded. “How could I not? Eren, I’ve never thought someone could be so amazing to me.” You leaned in even closer, “I was just scared to admit it because I didn’t want to ruin anything. I was scared there was a chance it was all in my head.”

“Oh, believe me,” Eren rested his forehead against yours, “it’s real. It’s been real for a while now.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, with tiny little butterflies flying around in your stomach and filling your chest with warmth. You couldn’t remember if you’d ever been this happy.

“It was the same with me.” He continued while gently stroking your cheek. “You’ve become such an important part of my life,” the most important, he thought, “that I was terrified I’d screw it all up if I confessed. But trust me, it was freaking torture wondering if you felt the same way. I couldn’t bare the thought of losing you if you didn’t.”

You shook your head, “You could never lose me, Eren. Even if that was the case, which obviously isn’t, I would’ve still been your friend. I’ll always be there for you.”

Eren’s eyes softened. You truly were amazing. “And I’ll always be there for you.” 

You stayed like that for a few seconds, staring into each other’s eyes, losing yourselves in them. And then, Eren decided to spontaneously lay a quick kiss on your nose. A spark of joy ignited within you, with your laughter bubbling up, filling the air with its infectious sound. 

Eren’s eyes twinkled with delight, “That’s my favourite sound.”

“You always know how to pull it out of me. Even when I don’t want to.”

The moment the sentence was over, Eren couldn’t wait any longer. His hands gently cradled your face, like he was holding the most precious thing in the world. Then he quickly caught your lips in a soft, but passionate kiss, one that was filled with longing, a testament of how long he’d waited to do this. It took every last breath you had. When the kiss ended, you stayed close, your noses barely brushing against each other.

“I’ll make sure you always do.”

…..

Today

4:30. That was what the clock showed when he woke up with tears in his eyes. 

He brought his hand to his cheek, feeling the dampness of his skin. Just when he thought he finally got used to it. The painful reminder that even when he was asleep, the ache of missing you still lingered, refusing to fade away.

The memories, so many of them turned dreams, ones that haunted him every night or so, were as real as he could remember. Your face was still as pretty, but your eyes were brighter then. In his dreams, he saw those eyes and the way they sparkled whenever he would gaze at them.

In those dreams, he could almost feel the warmth of your touch, the tenderness of your embrace. They were bittersweet, bringing temporary solace among the daily torment. A cruel reminder of what he had lost, yet they also offered a fleeting respite from the harsh reality of your absence.

But then he remembered. In a couple of hours, he would see you. His sleepy mind had forgotten to remind him of that, that it wasn’t all lost. That even though he wouldn’t get to hug or kiss you, at least he’d get to see you. Hear your voice. He wasn’t a 1000 kilometres away from you anymore, just a few streets.

He sat up in his bed, his dream still fresh in front of his eyes. He leaned against the cupboard and looked up at the ceiling. Did you, too, have dreams like this? He wondered if there were nights where you’d woken up with tears brimming eyes, searching for him while he was god knows where. It tugged at his heart, his fists clenching. He was sure nights like this were a regular occurrence for you after he left. And while you were pregnant..

He slammed his fist into the mattress and closed his eyes shut. He should’ve been there to wipe them, kiss them away, to help you, to love you. But he wasn’t. 

“One step at a time, Eren.” His whisper echoed through the room. He had to talk himself out of the self-loathing, out of the guilt that was threatening to consume him if he took one wrong step. He had to believe things could get better.

He got up from his bed and walked to the window, pulling the curtains aside. The city was still asleep, the street lights casting a soft glow on the quiet roads. He took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs. He knew it was futile to try and fall asleep again, so instead, his mind began racing with all the possible outcomes of your impending conversation. His heart pounded in his chest as he thought about the words he would say, the apologies he would make. Would you accept them? Would you believe that he was sincere? Or would you turn him away, the pain of his absence still too fresh? He didn’t know any of these things except one that was for sure. He had a long day ahead of him.

…..

“Rise and shine, mama!” A certain cheerful voice rang in your ear. You opened your eyes to see your little girl jumping on your bed, her hair a mess, eyes wide and sparkling, like they always were. You smiled at her, pulling her instantly into a warm embrace.

“Good morning sweetheart,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Lily giggled, wrapping her small hands around your neck, “did you sleep okay?”

“Mhmm,” she nodded her head a couple of times, “I dreamt I was a princess and I had a  whole castle allll for myself!”

Your laughter filled the air, “Well, that’s not far from the truth.” You scooped her up into your arms and got out of bed, making your way to her room. 

“Tell you what, you make your bed and brush your teeth and I’ll make you some special princess pancakes, okay?”

When you let her down, she rose her tiny thumb up, her face determined, and you had to put your palm in front of your mouth to keep your chuckle in. She was just too cute.

“I want them pink!”

“You got it!”

You turned on your heel, trying to remember where you put the pink food coloring with strawberry flavor you bought for her. You prepared the batter, now being an expert at making quick breakfasts, all the while smiling at your daughter’s excitement. Life was just fuller with her in it.

Lily, having diligently made her bed and brushed her teeth, came running to your side, her eyes fixated on the bowl of pink batter. She bounced on her toes, "Mama, they're going to be the prettiest pancakes ever!"

“They just might.” You gave her a wink and a playful nudge, “But only if her majesty helped me mix the batter.”

Her face lit up at the prospect of helping you, and she eagerly grabbed the wooden spoon you offered her. You held the bowl steady as she stirred, her tongue poking out in concentration. 

"Good job, your highness," you praised, ruffling her hair. "Now, let's get these pancakes cooking."

As the pancakes sizzled on the pan, filling the kitchen with a delicious aroma, you took a quick detour to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. When you returned, your heart swelled at the sight before you. There was Lily, perched precariously on a kitchen chair, carefully flipping the pancakes with a look of intense concentration on her face.

You really are growing up so fast, you thought. It was a thought that filled you with a profound sense of awe and a hint of melancholy. Your little girl was blossoming before your eyes, and while it was a beautiful sight, it was also a poignant reminder of how fleeting these moments truly were.

As you sat at the table, your attention focused on Lily, her excitement about starting school next week bubbling over in a stream of endless chatter while she ate her pink pancakes, your eyes filled with nothing but love for her. Until you unconsciously glanced to your right, at the chair that remained perpetually empty, and it stirred a pang in your heart. It was a void that has  existed ever since she came into your world.

Despite her cheerful demeanor, you knew she was aware that things weren't quite as they should be. You saw it in the wistful look that crossed her face when she saw a child perched high on their father's shoulders. It was there in the longing in her eyes when she watched movies featuring families gathered around the dinner table, laughing and sharing their day. And it was painfully evident in the park, when she'd watch a mother and father swinging their child between them, their laughter echoing in the air.

Yes, your daughter was a happy child, full of life and joy. But there was a part of her world that was incomplete, a piece of the puzzle missing. 

What should I do?

It was a question nobody could give an answer to except you. Confusion settled inside your mind like a heavy fog, and you found yourself grappling with a myriad of emotions. But then again, Eren had that kind of effect. 

Just talk to him, you repeated to yourself, the words becoming a mantra that guided your resolve. You knew deep down that having a conversation with him was necessary, for your daughter’s sake at least. After all, you had faced and overcome numerous challenges in your life, and this was just another hurdle to navigate. Facing it was the only way to move forward.

One step at a time.

…..

With his third cup of coffee for the day clutched tightly in his hand, Eren couldn't help but notice the slight tremor that had begun to take hold. Perhaps it was the caffeine, or maybe it was the fact that in half an hour, he’d be meeting you. He strolled past the town's library, one hand buried deep in his pocket, the other cradling the diminutive cup of warmth. He observed the streets with an almost alien curiosity, taking in the sights as if for the first time. 

This was his first venture into town, a decision his mind tried to dissuade him from, haunted by the prospect of getting recognised and the inevitable gossip that would follow. But he yearned for a taste of normalcy, a fleeting moment of being just another face in the crowd, despite his life being anything but ordinary. So, he ditched his car, and sauntered along the familiar, yet strangely new streets. 

Eren was riddled with nerves at the prospect of talking to you, yet when he allowed himself to truly contemplate it, he realized his anticipation outweighed his anxiety. This was it, the moment he’d been waiting for, finally taking place. There was no room for screw ups.

But then again, as much as he pondered on it, he wasn’t quite sure what kind of apology would soften the sternness in your eyes every time you looked at him. I’m sorry for leaving for 7 years and making you gather the pieces.. no, that wasn’t it. I’m the biggest scumbag on the face of the earth. That seemed more fitting.

His thoughts then wandered to Lily. What was she doing at this moment? Did she enjoy drawing? Had she mastered riding a bike? Did she have a favourite sport? A favourite toy? Food? Movie?

He desperately wanted to know the answers to those questions, but he also feared the disappointment that might come with them. He had missed out on so much of her life, and he knew he could never make up for lost time. She looked like such a joyful kid, too.. The last thing he wanted was to screw that up.

The weight of his thoughts and the ticking clock in his mind seemed to drag his steps, making the short distance to your meeting place feel like a marathon. He was seconds from facing the music, facing you, facing the last 7 years.

The bell above the cafe door jingled as he pushed the open, the familiar sound sending a rush of nostalgia through him. This was a place you used to come after school along with your friends, a sanctuary for playing cards, laughing, making plans, escaping the world. Now, it sort of felt like a battleground, the setting for a confrontation that was years in the making.

He scanned the room, wondering if you’d showed up even though he was 20 minutes early, his heart pounding. Then one last glance at the far end table and there you were, sitting in a corner, your hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. When your eyes met his, he could see the wariness in them, the hardened resolve. You looked like you were prepared for this, for whatever he had to say.

He walked over to your table, his steps slow and measured. People were talking around him but it was like he couldn’t hear anything, like everything was silent. The only thing he actually could hear was the rapid beating of his heart as he reached the table and took the seat across from you. His hands trembled slightly as he placed them on the table. 

“I thought I was going to be early.” He said, an anxious smile crossing his lips.

“I wanted to get it over with.” The truth was, you didn’t mean to sound so rude. Maybe it was the nerves, but you didn’t intend for your words to be laced with so much iciness. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, I get it.” He interjected, trying to sound unaffected, even though your words were like needles to his heart. “Thank you again. For meeting me.”

You nodded once, realizing how hard it was going to be to look him in the eyes. Breathe, your mind repeated. Just breathe. “I meant to ask yesterday. What’s wrong with your eye?”

Shit, he thought. He’d bought concealer yesterday to cover it, but your question meant he didn’t do a good job. No point in lying. “Met Jean the other day. I guess he didn’t miss me much.”

You looked down at your coffee mug, shaking your head. This was just too typical of them. “So.. what did you want to talk about?”

That I miss you so fucking much.

But he couldn’t say that. So, the next most important thing was, “I’m sorry.” He looked you straight in the eyes. “I’m deeply sorry for everything I’ve done to you-“

“I don’t need your apologies, Eren.” You stopped him in his tracks, causing his eyes to widen, “Really, just- don’t.” Your tone suggested no further arguing about it. Eren couldn’t decide which hurt more - the numbness in your voice or the disappointment in your eyes.

“Just tell me what you want.”

As much as it pained him, Eren knew this would most probably be the outcome. He expected his apologies to fall on deaf ears, even though he so desperately wanted, needed, to convince you how sorry he was. But he also needed to thread carefully.

“I.. know this is going to be too sudden for you,” he began, his eyes settled on a tiny drop of coffee on the wooden table, too overwhelmed to look at your face, “but the reason I wanted to talk is because,” spit it out, Eren, “I want to be a part of Lily’s life.”

Silence. Not a word, not a breath. Nothing.

When Eren looked up to catch your expression, he saw a medley of emotions on your face. Surprise, confusion.. maybe even a hint of anger. You took a moment to process his words, that felt like forever to the man sitting in front of you. 

“I’m- I’m going to live here from now on, and I want to help you with whatever I can.” He added, trying to convey his sincerity.

You continued to stare at him, your features becoming unreadable. A deep sigh escaped your lips, and you craned your neck to look up at the ceiling. Then you moved your eyes towards him, gripping your cup tightly, “Eren.. Lily has a stable life. I can’t risk you ruining that. I’m sorry.”

The finality of your words made Eren’s heart sink to his stomach. But one thing about him was, he wasn’t giving up without a fight. “Okay, I deserve that. But.. are we just going to pretend like we don’t know each other? Are we going to just pass each other by?” 

He struck a nerve. 

“You pretended like I never existed and left. So, you tell me.”

Your words hit him like a punch in the gut. One that was long overdue.

“Y/n.. I can’t express to you how much I regret everything that happened back then. And even though you probably won’t believe it, if I had known about Lily, I-“

“So you needed to know about her so you could acknowledge me? Is that it?”

You had a counter for everything he said, and his words only further fuelled the slowly-bubbling anger within you. All the hurt, the betrayal, everything you had felt for so long was resurfacing, even though internally you were fighting to stop it. With much effort, you decided to try and collect yourself. You weren’t going to let him see you lash out. 

“Eren, look.. I can’t let her be near a person who can walk away from his responsibilities with the snap of his fingers. This is my daughter and I don’t want her to get hurt.”

“She’s my daughter, too.” The words left a burning feeling in his throat, because he knew he shouldn’t have said that. 

“I’m sorry?” The disbelief in your voice was palpable. His daughter? He wanted to be responsible all of a sudden? 

“Look, if- if you don’t want me to spend time with her, I won’t put pressure on it. Just let me help with things. I can give you money, I can support you-“

“Money? You think we need your money?” You let out a disbelieving laugh, then quickly gathered your jacket, getting ready to leave. “This is ridiculous.”

“No, wait, please.” Eren reached out, grabbing you by the hand. The contact made you jolt, freezing in place. When you looked up, you were met by his desperate eyes. You stared at them, at the two green orbs he shared with you daughter, and you hated how for the slightest moment, you actually felt bad for him. 

“I didn’t meant to sound so forward, I just.. I don’t know how to approach this.”

After a long silence, you pulled your hand away, not harshly, but firmly, and sat back into your seat. “Well, let me help you then. Just don’t approach it at all. Leave it be. It’s been years, and maybe things should be left alone as they are.”

Eren’s face fell. He should’ve expected that, but it still hurt more than he anticipated. 

“Y/n, you can’t ask that of me.”

Your hands were shaking. You thought you were ready for this, but now that it was actually happening, you weren’t so sure anymore.

“Okay. What do I tell her? Hm? Hey, baby. I know you’ve always wondered who your dad is, and I know you haven’t ever met him, but the other day we bumped into him at the store, and now he wants us to be one big, happy family. Does that sound good?”

Eren winced at your words, the harsh reality of the situation hitting him like a truck. It was like he was in a maze that he was desperately trying to find the right path to, but that always ended in failure. 

“You don’t get it, do you? You’re going to stir up her life. I can’t let you do that.”

“I know it’ll be hard.” He began quietly, “I also know it’s not fair to put all that pressure on you. The last thing I want is to make your lives harder. I want the opposite.” 

“Good. Then it’s better if you stay away.” You were talking to hurt him now, and you knew it. “Anyway, you say you’re going to live here from now on. Why? How is your celebrity life going to fit in a small place like this?”

His answer was instantaneous, “I’m done with all that.”

A few moments were needed for you to process his words. “Oh. Oh, okay. You’re done with it. And now you think you can just causally stroll back in here like the last years didn’t happen?”

“No, I- listen, it’s not like that-“

“Then how is it, Eren?“ 

You noticed a few heads turning towards your table, realizing you’d been raising your voice. It was clear that emotions were running high for both of you, and you were aware that wouldn’t amount to anything good. Eren was hunched forward on the table, almost like a little kid seeking some kind of comfort.

“I couldn’t live like that anymore. I needed to come home.” His voice was so low, you barely heard it. Then he rose his head up, his eyes pleading, begging for you to believe him, “I swear, it’s been like that for a while. It’s just- it’s not that easy to get away from it. I did, though. It’s over.”

You leaned your head on your hands, and closed your eyes shut. Thousands of emotions threatened to swallow you whole. You took in everything he said and tried to make sense of it. But how do you trust someone who left you like you meant nothing and never looked back? You couldn’t let that happen to Lily. You’d rather anything else than letting someone hurt her that way.

“How do I know that you won’t go on tour and not come back for the next 7 years?”

“If I do that, you can always send Jean or my dad my way. I bet they’ll be real happy to put an end to me.”

“You think this is funny?”

Eren shook his head. “I am done. I was miserable leading that life. It’s over, Y/n. Truly.” 

Silence enveloped the space between you and Eren as he could see the confusion etched on your face. A fraction of him held onto the hope that there was the tiniest chance you were considering giving him a shot.

“I just want to get to know her. That’s all I want.” He added, searching for your eyes that were settled on your coffee cup. “It’ll all be on your terms. Whatever you say, that’s what’s going to happen.” 

Still silent, you lifted your gaze to meet Eren’s eyes. Oh, how you wanted to believe him. How you wanted to be sure that this man in front of you was someone you could trust with the most precious thing in your life. How you wanted to see the change behind his desperate eyes. 

“What do you think?” He probed, his heart on the verge of exploding.

“I don’t know.” Your voice wavered, “I don’t know if I can trust you.”

“Tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.”

Then, you saw it. It was like transporting back in time. A glimpse of the boy you fell in love with all those years ago, sitting in front of you, ready to do whatever it took to make it right. It was the look in his eyes, the determination, that almost caught you off guard. 

You swallowed thickly, it all becoming too much, “I have to get back to work.”

Quickly, you rose up from your seat, and began rummaging through your purse in search for your wallet. 

“No, please, let me.” Eren stood up, reaching to stop you.

You avoided his touch like it would burn you. “I can take care of myself.” You threw some money on the table without counting, wanting to leave before the tears started spilling.

Eren watched helplessly, a storm inside him, one that couldn’t let him decide what to do. Trying to think under the pressure of you leaving, he reached out inside his pocket and gathered a small piece of paper.

“This is my new number.” He held it out to you. “Please, just promise me you’ll consider it.”

His hand hovered in the air between you as you hesitated. You were conflicted, but in the end, you decided to take it. Even if you didn’t call him, leaving him here completely hopeless wasn’t like you. At the end of the day, if it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t have had Lily. Despite all the hurt and confusion that lingered between the two of you, you couldn't deny the impact he had on your life.

With a heavy sigh, you nodded at Eren, taking the tiny piece of paper in your hand.

Eren's eyes softened, a glimmer of hope shining through his inner storm. In a moments time you were out the door, leaving only the sound of the ringing bell behind you. He stared at your reflection through the window, every inch of his body wanting to chase after you, but his mind knew he shouldn’t. It was all in your hands now. Taking his number indicated a crack in the door, a silver of possibility, but he knew that the slightest pressure could slam the door shut again. So, he just stood still. Helplessness was his only companion for the moment.

…..

Summer, 10 years ago

You’d never actually gone to Eren’s house before. You’d only been to his backyard, having sneaked out one night and stargazed on the grass Mr. Jaeger had freshly moaned, where Eren intertwined your fingers for the first time. You’d spent an hour looking at the stars and thinking of goofy names for the constellations you could barely recognize, giggling every time one of you came up with something particularly silly. He then took you home on his bike, and helped you up the flower ladder that led to your room. If only you’d known how much he wanted to kiss you, even then. 

What had changed between then and now was that he had confessed his love for you, which had given you the courage to do the same. 

That day, he kissed you on your porch after taking you home like he usually did. It was a long, soft kiss, with his hands cradling your face, a kiss that made your knees wobble and your breath hitch in your throat. You fell asleep thinking about it, about all of it. There was this euphoria that wouldn’t let your smile fade, nor your mind rest. You woke up the next day to a text from him.

Eren💚

“Good morning, beautiful.”

You couldn’t stop your grin from spreading across your face. You pressed your phone against your chest, sighing with content. As you laid there, the morning light filtering through your curtains, you felt a warmth that wasn't just from the sun's rays. It was the warmth of him thinking about you at 8a.m. You typed a response, your fingers dancing across the screen with the same lightness that filled your heart.

“Good morning..❤️ did you sleep okay?”

You hit send, and almost immediately, the little dots that signaled Eren was typing appeared. The anticipation bubbled inside you, a pleasant fizz of excitement that made you sit up in bed, clutching the phone even tighter.

Eren💚

“Didn’t sleep much tbh. Couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday.”

You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at his words. You wanted to say so much, to tell him that he had been in your dreams all night, that the thought of him made the morning seem brighter, but you settled for a response that conveyed your feelings without overwhelming him.

“Me too.. It was the best day I’ve had in a long time.”

You were restless to see his response, watching the screen in anticipation, the seconds of him typing passing like hours in your mind.

Eren💚

“It was the best day I’ve ever had.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Best day he’s ever had. You wanted to write that too but didn’t want to appear too forward. Turns out he was braver than you, which wasn’t a shocker at all.

Eren💚

“I really want to see you. Take you for breakfast?”

Was this how things were going to be from now on? Were you going to be so giddy and excited every time he messaged you? The thought made you smile even wider, and you couldn't type your response fast enough.

“I’d love that. What time should I be ready?”

Then, your phone rang. It was him. Your heart was beating faster than it ever had before. You had to repeat to yourself that this was still your best friend, the boy you’d shared your deepest thoughts and dreams with. But now.. he was something more, and that change seemed to turn you into a person you’d never thought you’d become. That made you nervous but also.. so, so happy. 

You quickly picked up, voice timid but filled with warmth, “Hey.” 

“Hello, pretty girl.” He was going to be the end of you with those nicknames. “Could you look outside your window for me?”

You blinked a few times, taking you a second to comprehend what he was saying before you jumped out of your bed and ran to your window. There, on the street below, was Eren. He was leaning against his bicycle, phone to his ear, and looking up at your window with that familiar, heart-melting grin.

You couldn't help but laugh, surprise and delight bubbling up inside you. "Eren! What are you doing here so early?" you asked, still holding the phone to your ear, though you were now speaking to him both through the window and the call.

"I wanted to surprise you," he said, his voice coming through the phone and faintly from the street below. "How about we start with that breakfast I mentioned? I couldn't wait until lunch."

Your heart did a somersault. "Give me five minutes!" you exclaimed, already thinking about what you could throw on quickly. You didn't want to keep him waiting.

"Take your time. I'll be right here," he replied, his tone patient and kind.

You ended the call, a smile plastered on your face as you hurried to get ready. You brushed your hair, found your favorite comfortable jeans and a t-shirt, and grabbed a light jacket. After a quick glance in the mirror, you dashed downstairs, your heart pounding with the anticipation of the day ahead. Your mother was in the kitchen, and you faintly heard her ask you where you were going so early.

“Eren and I are having breakfast!” You replied before you opened the front door. When he saw you, Eren pushed off from his bike and walked towards your front door. His eyes were bright, and the morning sun gave his hair a golden hue. "Good morning, for real this time," he said, his voice warm and inviting. He looked so.. ugh, he was the most beautiful boy you’d ever seen. He was wearing a pastel green shirt that made his eyes pop, and his smile was infectious as ever.

“Good morning..” you sounded shyer than you intended, but that seemed to steal another grin from Eren’s handsome face.

“You’re so cute.” He caught your face in his hands and planted a soft kiss on your lips. Your cheeks immediately flushed, and to your dismay, Eren noticed instantly, letting out a loud chuckle. “Are you blushing?”

You looked down at your feet, then hid your head in the crook of his neck. “Shut up..”

Eren laughed again, then brought you back to look him in the eyes, “Y/n, it’s still me, you know.”

“I know that!” You exclaimed, “it’s just.. I’m not used to this yet.”

Eren crooked an eyebrow, trying to hide his smile. “Mhm. You seemed to get used to it pretty quickly yesterday.”

“Oh, shush!” You wrapped your arms around him, and you felt his lips press against your hair. 

“We should get going if we want to beat the breakfast rush.”

…..

Daisy’s cafe was as full as you’d expect for a Saturday morning. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of light chatter filled the air, welcoming you into its embrace. You found a small table near the window, the perfect spot to enjoy the morning sun. Eren ordered your favorite chocolate chip pancakes without even asking you, the gesture making your heart full. When they came along with the other things you’d ordered, the green-eyed boy watched with an amused expression as you drizzled syrup over the stack, the rich, sweet aroma mingling with the coffee's robust scent.

And then, without any warning, “My mom wants to meet you.”

You almost choked on your first bite. This was unexpected to say the least. Not because of anything else, but because you’d  never met his mom before, and you knew about her.. condition. Eren had confided in you about her declining health, but conversations about it were rare, his discomfort in discussing it understandable.

Eren's expression softened, and he reached across the table to take your hand. "Yeah, she's been asking about you," he said gently. "She wants to meet the girl who's captured her son's heart."

Your heart swelled, then you took his hand in yours as well. "Of course, I'd love to meet her," you replied, your voice steady despite the nerves that suddenly fluttered in your stomach. "Whenever you think it's the right time."

“I think it would mean a lot to her, and to me. My dad would be stoked to meet you, too."

You nodded, smiling. The thought of meeting his parents, his mom, especially given her health, felt like a big step.

“We could go today, actually. After breakfast, if that’s okay with you.”

The invitation caught you off guard, but you saw the earnestness in Eren's eyes. This was important to him, and therefore, it was important to you as well. 

"Today?" you echoed, giving his hand a gentle squeeze back. The suddenness of the plan made you nervous, but the idea of putting it off didn't feel right either. "Yes, of course. I want to meet them too."

Eren's face lit up with relief. "Great!", he said, his voice filled with excitement that made you happy. "I was talking about you all night yesterday. They’re already in love with you.”

He’d been talking about you. You wanted to jump into his arms right this second. “I hope I live up to their expectations.”

He laughed softly, the sound easing the tension that had built up at the thought of the meeting. "You will. They're going to see what I see in you."

You finished your breakfast, chatting about little things to ease the nerves. Eren told you a bit more about his parents, his childhood memories, and what you might expect. It was comforting to hear him talk so fondly of his family, and it made you even more eager to meet them.

“But Eren, I need to change! I want to look more presentable-“

He reached across the table to put his finger in front of your mouth.

“You’re perfect, okay?”

It was just like him to reassure you in such a direct and heartfelt way. You smiled against his finger, and he reciprocated it.

“Okay, I trust you.”

After breakfast, you hopped on his bicycle, your arms circling his stomach, that was as hard as a rock, and he took off down the street. The ride was relaxing, your head resting against his back, eyes closed, letting yourself feel the summer breeze. As you held onto him, you could feel the muscles in his abdomen flex with each pedal stroke. The air was fresh and crisp, and the gentle rush of the wind against your face was invigorating.

The streets were familiar, yet they seemed different from this perspective, the perspective of your newfound relationship. Everything was more alive and vibrant. You watched as the neighborhood passed by, children playing on the sidewalks, dogs barking in the yards, and the everyday life of the community unfolding around you.

Then, you remembered. The flower farm you worked at was just a few blocks away from Eren’s house, and an idea formed in your mind.

“Hey, stop there.” 

Eren glanced over his shoulder, following your gaze to the flower farm. He slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road, coming to a stop. "Here?"

You nodded, dismounting from the bicycle. "Yes, I just thought... maybe I could bring a bouquet for your mom. It's the least I can do, considering she's inviting me into her home."

"That's a really sweet idea," Eren said, his eyes softening. It was moments like this that cemented in his mind why he’d fallen so hard for you. You were just so kind, so thoughtful.. beautiful inside and out. “I’ll wait for you here.”

You quickly made your way into the flower farm, greeted by the familiar scents and colors that always brought you comfort. You selected a few of your favorite blooms, arranging them into a bouquet with care and attention. The colors were vibrant, and you hoped they would bring a smile to Eren's mother's face.

Returning to where Eren waited, you showed him the bouquet. "What do you think?"

"It's beautiful," he said, genuinely impressed. "She's going to love it."

As you approached his parents' house, your heart began to beat a little faster, but you tried to remain calm. When you came to a stop, Eren helped you off the bicycle, his hands steady and warm. You took a moment to compose yourself, smoothing out your clothes and running your fingers through your hair to tame it from the ride.

"Ready?" Eren asked, searching your face for any sign of hesitation.

You nodded, feeling a surge of courage. "Ready.”

Eren led you up the path to the front door, and before he could ring the bell, he looked at you one last time. "Hey," he said, his eyes searching yours. "No matter what, I'm here, okay? And they're going to love you. I know it." 

You nodded, squeezing his arm. He rang the bell, and within moments, the door swung open to reveal his mom. Carla Jaeger. The resemblance between mother and son was striking; Eren had inherited her whole face, her eyes and the same kind expression that made you feel instantly at ease.

She gasped when she saw the two of you, and her eyes shone like two beautiful jewels.

“Oh wow. Eren, you didn’t tell me she was that pretty!”

The compliment sent a rush of color to your cheeks, and without thinking, you found yourself drawing closer to Eren, seeking a subtle comfort in his presence. His arm, strong and reassuring, seemed to naturally wrap around you, as if to silently say, 'I've got you.'

“Mom, this is Y/n.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, mrs. Jaeger.” You extended your hand for a handshake, and she took it instantly, holding it with her two frail hands. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she stepped aside to let you both in. "Please, call me Carla," she insisted warmly. "Mrs. Jaeger makes me sound far too formal. You of all people should be able to call me by my first name."

"Thank you, Carla," you replied, appreciating the gesture of intimacy. It was a small thing, but it spoke volumes about her character and how she viewed your relationship with her son. “Eren told me that you loved flowers.”

You extended the bouquet towards her, and her eyes immediately lit up with appreciation. "They’re beautiful, thank you so much," she inspected them thoroughly. "You have a wonderful eye for arrangements. I'll put these in water," Carla said, already moving towards the kitchen. "Please, make yourself at home."

The house was filled with the pleasant hum of a home well-lived in. The walls were adorned with family photos, and the shelves held an array of knick-knacks and books that gave the space a personal touch. It was a home that was clearly cherished, a place where memories were made and treasured.

As Carla led you through the house, Eren stayed close, his hand occasionally brushing against yours in a silent show of support. You could feel his gaze on you from time to time, checking to make sure you were comfortable. She led you to the kitchen, where the aroma of blueberry muffins filled the air. You couldn’t not notice the beautiful vase filled with white lilies, a throwback to your first conversation with Eren.

“Sit yourselves down, I’ll make some coffee. Actually, Y/n, do you drink coffee or tea?”

“Tea would be great, thank you.” 

Carla nodded and smiled, moving gracefully around the kitchen to prepare the beverages. "Tea it is," she said. "We have a few different kinds. Any preference?"

As she busied herself with the kettle and the tea selection, Eren pulled out a chair for you at the kitchen table. The domestic scene was heartwarming, and you felt a sense of inclusion. Eren took the seat next to you as Carla placed a steaming mug of tea on the table, along with a small plate of muffins. "Help yourself to the muffins," she encouraged. "I baked them this morning. They're Eren's favorite."

You thanked her and took a muffin, noticing the way Eren's eyes lit up with childlike excitement at the prospect of his mother's homemade treats. 

“Well, look who it is.” A male voice filled the room, and you turned to the door to see Mr. Jaeger put his keys on the kitchen counter, his smile on display. “You must be Y/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” You stood up to shake his hand, and he gave you a friendly shake.

“There are no “sirs” around here. You can call me Grisha.” He tapped his son on the shoulder, “Eren’s been telling us so much about you.”

“Only good things, I hope.” You gave a nervous laugh.

“The best.” He winked down at his son and Eren shook his head, smiling.

Grisha's easygoing demeanor and the playful interaction between him and Eren helped to further ease any lingering nerves you might have had. The atmosphere in the Jaeger household was one of warmth and joviality, and it was clear that humor and affection were the foundations of their family life.

As Grisha joined the table, Carla brought over another mug for him, and the family settled into a comfortable routine, as if you had always been a part of it.

“Now, do tell us, how did our boy succeed in stealing your heart?”

“Dad!” Eren's protest was half-hearted, his cheeks tinged with a hint of red as his father posed the question that hung in the air, a mix of curiosity and gentle teasing. Grisha's eyes twinkled with mirth, and it was clear that he was enjoying the moment, eager to hear the story from your perspective.

You glanced at Eren, who gave you a small nod, his embarrassment giving way to a look of affection. It was your cue to share the tale, and you took a deep breath, ready to recount the story that had become a cherished memory for both of you.

"Well," you began, a smile spreading across your face as you recalled the details, "it all started in detention, actually."

“Oh, that’s gotta be interesting!”

Grisha's interest was piqued, and Carla leaned in with a look of amused anticipation. Even Eren seemed to settle in, ready to hear your version of the story, despite knowing it all too well.

"Yes, detention," you continued, the smile never leaving your face. "We were both there for completely different reasons. I had accidentally fallen asleep during class, and Eren..."

You looked at him, unsure if you should say the reason for him being there. He looked at his parents, only saying, “Jean."

They both nodded, with Carla rolling her eyes, which led you to believe they were familiar with their antics.

You continued, “Well, I was reading my book when he came up to me, and we started talking. He was interested in it and wanted me to tell him about the story.”

“Can I confess something?” Eren chimed in, “I was more interested in you.”

You playfully nudged him with your shoulder, “You don’t say. Anyway, it was just the two of us, so we came up with a plan and decided to..” you stopped again, biting your lip, realising where the story was going, and the consequences that followed right after.

“Wait, is this about the time Eren locked that grumpy teacher inside his classroom?”

You froze in place, thinking maybe this wasn’t the best story to tell his parents the first time you meet them. Given the fact you were both suspended for an entire week after that, it was probably not the best idea.

“Ugh, I can’t stand that little man!” Carla exclaimed, her previous amusement giving way to a hint of exasperation and a rebellious twinkle in her eye. "Always so sour. I'm not saying I condone what you two did, but I can't say I'm entirely surprised."

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, relieved by Carla's reaction. Eren gave you a reassuring look, squeezing your hand gently under the table as if to say, "See, it's okay."

“He’d tried to embarrass Y/n earlier that day. Couldn’t let that one slide.” Eren intercepted, and Grisha let out a laugh.

“Sounds like our boy, alright. Looks like you’ve got quite the knight in shining armour, Y/n.” 

You couldn't help but blush at Grisha's comment. Eren's protective nature was one of the things that had drawn you to him in the first place, and it was clear his parents recognized this trait in him too.

"I guess I do," you replied with a smile, looking over at Eren, who was trying to hide his own reddening cheeks.

Eren, recovering from his moment of shyness, added with a playful grin, "Well, I can't have anyone messing with my partner in crime, can I?"

Carla shook her head with a smile, clearly amused by the banter. "Just make sure you two don't end up in actual armor, okay? I don't think I could handle bailing you out of the school dungeon."

The table erupted into laughter, the atmosphere light and full of familial warmth. Then, mrs. Jaeger started coughing, and not the kind of cough a flu could bring. It was long, and the laughter around the table faltered as her coughing grew more severe, her hand coming up to her chest as she tried to catch her breath. The jovial mood quickly shifted to one of concern. Grisha was by her side in an instant, his hand on her back, his expression a mix of worry and calm as he tried to help her through it.

"Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay." Grisha said, his voice steady but tinged with urgency.

Eren was on his feet now, his earlier embarrassment forgotten as he focused on his mother. "Mom, should I get your inhaler?" he asked, ready to spring into action.

Carla managed to nod between coughs, and Eren didn't hesitate. He dashed off into the house as you stood up as well, feeling a bit helpless but wanting to offer support in any way you could.

"It's okay, dear," Carla said between coughs, trying to reassure you and Grisha, though her voice was strained. "This happens sometimes. Just need my inhaler."

Eren returned quickly, out of breath but with the inhaler in hand. He passed it to his mother, who took a deep puff, holding it in before exhaling slowly. After a few moments and a couple more puffs, her coughing began to subside, and her breathing evened out.

"I'm sorry for the scare," Carla said, her voice still a bit weak but steadier now. "I've been dealing with this for a while. Some days are better than others."

Grisha gave her a soft smile, his eyes full of love. "The important thing is that you're okay now," he said.

Eren sat back down, the worry slowly leaving his face as he saw his mother recovering. "Yeah, Mom, you've got to take it easy," he said, the protective nature you admired so much shining through once again.

She waved her son off, “I’m fine, I’m fine.” She then turned to give you a soft smile, “I’m really glad we finally got to meet you, Y/n. Eren’s been different ever since you came into his life. No more going to the principal’s every week or so. You seem to have a good impact on him.”

You exchanged a look with her, one that truly conveyed her gratitude. 

Eren smiled, his eyes now on you, “She keeps me in line.”

“Well, he’s been there for me, too. In more ways than one.” Your hand lingered on top of his, and you felt the incredible need to kiss him, but you knew now was not the right time.

Grisha, ever the observer, raised his mug in a mock toast. "To keeping each other in line, then," he said with a chuckle. "Sounds like the secret to a good partnership."

“It does, doesn’t it?” Carla looked at her husband, her eyes shining with fondness and gentle ribbing. "You could let loose from time to time, you know. Life is not only about balance. Sometimes, a little mess is good."

Grisha's eyes met Carla's, and he gave a mock sigh of resignation. "I suppose you're right," he conceded with a playful roll of his eyes. "A little mess never hurt anyone. It's the spice of life, I guess."

Eren watched the exchange with a smile, clearly enjoying the banter between his parents. It was evident that their relationship was built on a strong foundation of love and mutual respect, peppered with the ability to laugh and tease one another.

You couldn't help but smile at the scene before you, feeling a sense of inclusion. The Jaegers were.. they were what truly family was all about. Their ability to embrace life's imperfections, to find humor in the chaos, and to support one another through it all was inspiring. It was a reminder that family wasn’t about being perfect; it was about being there for each other, through the mess and the triumphs alike.

“I think I’m going to start on lunch.” Carla said, but before she could start rummaging through the kitchen drawers, her husband stopped her in her tracks.

“I’m making lunch. You sit down and rest.” He gave her a quick peck on the forehead, then turned to Eren, “Come help me start the barbecue, son.”

Eren kissed your cheek, then got on his feet and followed his father to the backyard. They had a big yard, and it was a sunny day, a perfect time for a barbecue. 

As you watched Eren and his dad prepare the grill, the way they moved with an easy familiarity, it was clear that this was a ritual they had shared many times before. The clinking of the tools and the crackling of the fire blended with the sounds of nature in the Jaegers' backyard, creating a symphony of domestic bliss.

Mrs. Jaeger watched as well, with a genuine smile on her face, and yet.. you could sense the sadness in her eyes, a mother's concern that never fully fades even in moments of joy. It was a look that spoke volumes about the love she had for her family and the silent strength she carried within her. She was a beautiful, but frail woman, her big sweater doing nothing to conceal the fragility that seemed to be a part of her very essence. The coughing fit had been a stark reminder of her vulnerability, and it was clear that her health was something that weighed on her mind, as well as on the minds of her family.

“I really meant what I said, Y/n.” The woman spoke, her eyes still glued on her family. “Thank you for being there for him. The last year and a half has been.. challenging. I was afraid he was going to keep spiraling, getting into trouble, but then you came along.”

She was now looking at you you, her gaze filled with gratitude and relief. It was clear that your presence in Eren's life had made a significant impact, not just on him, but on his entire family.

"You've grounded him," Carla continued, her voice soft but earnest. "Helped him not think about.. everything."

You felt a swell of emotion at her words. You knew he was different, you’d seen it, felt it yourself, but hearing it from his own mother meant the world to you.

"I care about him a lot," you replied, meeting her gaze. "And he’s been there for me just as much as I've been there for him. We support each other."

Carla reached out, placing a gentle hand over yours. "That's what it's all about, isn't it?" she said with a smile. "I can see how much you both mean to each other, and it gives me peace of mind to know he has someone like you in his corner."

You nodded your head, your gaze back on the boy who’d stolen your heart, “I want to thank you, too. You’ve done a wonderful job with him. He’s.. everything I could ever ask for.”

“Oh, sweetheart, stop it, you’ll make me emotional!” Carla exclaimed, and you both shared a laugh. Her laughter was a balm to your ears, and as you both settled into a comfortable silence, your thoughts drifted to your own mother. The change in her had been palpable ever since your father left. Where there was once warmth and open communication, there was now a cold distance that seemed to stretch further with each passing day.

Her lively spirit, which used to fill the house with joy and endless chatter, had become withdrawn, her smiles fewer and her conversations clipped. The light in her eyes had dimmed, replaced by a weariness that seemed to weigh down her every movement. She was there, but not in the way she used to be—her presence more like a ghost of the vibrant woman she once was.

You understood her pain, the sense of abandonment and betrayal that must have eaten away at her, but it pained you to see her so altered, so consumed by the shadows of what used to be. You longed for the days when your mother was your confidante and your pillar of strength, not this shell of her former self, moving through the days with a hollowed-out heart.

Sharing this moment with Carla, you were reminded of the stark contrast between the lively, loving atmosphere of the Jaegers and the quiet desolation that had settled over your own home. It made you appreciate the Jaegers' warmth even more and deepened your gratitude for the sense of family they extended to you—a gift that was all the more precious given the void that had formed in your own life.

"Life has a way of throwing us curveballs," The woman before you spoke, as if she could read your thoughts. "But it's how we catch them—or pick them up after they've hit the ground—that really counts."

You nodded, looking down at your tea. “I like how that sounds.” For a moment, you debated if you should confide in her, having met her only today. But there was something about this woman, about her demeanor and outlook on life, that made you feel safe. It was a feeling you hadn't realized you'd been missing until now.

You took a deep breath, feeling the words rise up from within. "My mom... she's been different ever since my dad left. It's like the life has been drained out of her, and I don't know how to bring her back. We were so close before.. I miss her—the way she used to be."

Carla's expression softened, her eyes reflecting a deep empathy. She looked at you like this wasn’t the first time she’d heard that story, probably because Eren had already mentioned it. Which, you were kind of thankful for. It meant he cared enough to seek support for you even when you weren't around, and that Carla was now a willing confidante, ready to offer comfort and advice.

"I’m very sorry to hear that, Y/n. It's never easy, seeing the ones we love change before our eyes," Carla said gently. "But remember, healing is a journey, not a destination. It takes time, patience, and a lot of love. Your mother may seem lost right now, but she's still in there, somewhere. And with you by her side, she has a beacon of hope to guide her back."

Her words were a comfort, and in that moment, you felt a connection with her, one that went beyond casualties. She was offering you a piece of wisdom that came from experience, from her own life's trials and tribulations.

"I truly hope so," you said, your voice thick with emotion. "I'll keep trying with her. Maybe one day, she'll be ready to start picking up those curveballs herself."

Carla reached to touch your cheek, her palm warm like her soul. "I’m sure she will, in her own time. And she's lucky to have you. Just like we're lucky to have you here with us."

“Thank you, Carla. This… it really means a lot to me.”

Carla's touch was reassuring, and her kind words wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. "You're welcome, dear," she replied with a gentle smile. "We all need a little support sometimes. Don't hesitate to reach out, whether it's to talk about your mom or anything else. We're family now."

You nodded, feeling a sense of belonging that was both new and deeply cherished. The kindness and openness this woman shared with you was like a soothing balm to the ache you'd been carrying around. It was a stark reminder that, while you couldn't control everything that happened in life, you could choose the people you surrounded yourself with—people who could make the burdens feel a little lighter.

“Now, do you think you could help me set the table? I could even show you my special lemonade recipe.” She sent a playful wink your way.

"I'd love to," you responded, the corners of your mouth lifting into a genuine smile.

Carla stood up to show you around the kitchen, and together you began to gather the plates, utensils, and glasses needed for the meal. The clink of cutlery and the clatter of dishes became the backdrop to a new kind of intimacy, one that was formed through shared tasks and quiet conversation.

As you worked, Carla shared her recipe, explaining each step with the care of someone passing down a treasured secret. You listened intently, taking note of the way she squeezed the lemons just so, the exact amount of sugar she added, and the sprigs of mint she used for garnish. The simplicity of the task, paired with the significance of the moment, made you feel more at home than you had in a long time.

With the table set, the bouquet you gifted her centered right at the middle of it, and the lemonade prepared, you stepped back to admire your handiwork. The kitchen was now transformed into a cozy dining space.

"Looks perfect," Carla said, surveying the scene with a satisfied nod. "Thank you, Y/n. You're a natural at this."

Just then, Eren and his father appeared at the door, the scent of grilled food preceding them. "Wow, look at this!" Eren exclaimed, his eyes taking in the spread. "You two have been busy."

His father placed a hand on your shoulder, a silent gesture of thanks that spoke louder than words. "You're part of the team now," he said with a warm smile.

As everyone took their seats around the table, the afternoon sun casting a golden glow over the scene, you felt a profound sense of peace. Eren sat next to you, his hand never leaving your knee, and in that moment, you just knew. 

This was exactly where you were supposed to be.

…..

It was a silent night. A night where the crickets could be heard, their sound still gracing your town’s fields and grass because of the warm weather. You were lying in your bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, unable to fall asleep no matter how much you tried. It’d been two days since your conversation with him. Two days of overworking yourself so you could not think about him. Two days of failing because of all the waking up in the middle of the night, your conversation still fresh in your mind.

Lily was fast asleep in her room, unaware of your inner turmoils. At least you hoped she was. The first day of school was just one day away, and she was beaming with excitement, talking about anything and everything she couldn’t wait to do now that she was a “big girl”. It was heartwarming to listen to her, and it gave you a reason to smile amidst the swirl of emotions you were caught in. Lily's happiness was infectious, and it reminded you why you pushed through the tough times. Her joy and innocence were like beacon in a storm, guiding you back to what truly mattered.

But now, in the quiet of the night, your thoughts drifted once again to Eren and the small piece of paper that now sat on your nightstand. The mere act of taking his number didn't bind you to anything, but it symbolized a bridge — a potential pathway back to someone who had once meant the world to you.

With each silent tick of the clock, your mind played through a thousand different scenarios. What could happen if you called? What would remain if you chose not to? But there was a more pressing question that you couldn’t escape: What did you want to happen?

You rolled over in bed, trying to find a comfortable position that might welcome sleep. Your life had done a whole 180 since he came back, and you were afraid of the same thing happening to your baby girl. How could you answer her questions without breaking her heart if you decided to tell her about him? Even if you came up with some dumb lie that could evidently cause more damage as she grew older, that would only put a bandage on the wound. It wouldn’t fix anything. 

But what if Eren was telling the truth? What if he really wanted to be a dad to her? It would be like taking away her chance of having both parents present in her life. But what if.. what if he left again?

You took a deep sigh, palms pressed against your face. You looked at the clock. It was 11:45pm. Screw it.

You jumped off your bed to grab the little piece of paper and began dialing his number, thinking he probably wasn’t asleep. Even if he was, you didn’t care. You didn’t know if you would get that kind of courage again. 

He answered after the second beep. 

"Hello?" Eren's voice came through the line, alert enough to recognize the urgency of a late-night call.

"Hey, it's me," you said, your voice steadier than you felt. The crickets' chorus seemed to quiet as if the night itself was holding its breath, waiting for what would come next.

“I know.” I know your phone number by heart, he thought. “Is everything okay?”

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as a means to collect your thoughts. You wanted to tell him that no, everything was not okay. That you’ve been thinking about your conversation, about everything, and that you couldn’t sleep a wink because of it. But instead, you decided to opt with something entirely different.

“The first day of school is in one day.”

Eren went silent. He knew, of course, but he couldn’t quite understand why you were mentioning it.

“Yeah, I know..” he replied, a note of confusion in his voice, “Is Lily okay? Are you?”

"She's more than okay. She's excited, can't stop talking about it," you said, a small smile forming as you thought of your daughter's enthusiasm. 

“I’m glad.” You could almost hear the smile in his voice. “It’s her big day, after all.”

Then, you became quiet again. The silence stretched between you, filled with the weight of unspoken thoughts and lingering emotions. Eren seemed to sense your hesitation, your internal struggle with the complexities of the situation.

“Y/n.. is everything-“

“We’re having a gathering at home after the school ceremony. I want you to come.”

The words came out before you could second-guess yourself, a decision made in the quiet space between heartbeats. 

“It’ll be only close friends and some neighbors. Your dad, too.” You decided to add.

Eren's response took a few seconds, but you couldn’t miss the excitement, surprise and gratitude mixed within his voice. "I... yes, yes, I'll be there. Just tell me the time."

You nodded, even though he couldn't see you. "It'll be in the afternoon, after the ceremony. I'll text you the details," you said, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your stomach.

"Okay, I'll wait for your message. And Y/n… I… ", Eren paused, as if choosing his words carefully, "Thank you. I really appreciate this.” He went quiet again before he spoke, “I'm going to make sure you don't regret it."

You let out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. "We'll see," you said, not ready to make any promises or set any expectations. "For now, let's just focus on making it a good day for her."

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Eren agreed. "She's going to have the best first day. I'm sure of it."

"Yeah, she will" you whispered, a small smile returning as you thought of your daughter's excitement. “And Eren.. I haven’t told her anything yet.”

“Yeah, I understand. I told you, whatever you say, that’s what happens.”

"Okay. Goodnight.”

"Goodnight, Y/n," Eren said softly, a note of warmth in his voice. 

The room was quiet once more, the earlier tension replaced by a cautious hope. You were still unsure about the future, about how things would unfold, but you had taken a step. For now, that was enough.

As you lay back down, the crickets outside resumed their song, a familiar and comforting sound. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to imagine the gathering, the school ceremony, and the look of joy on Lily's face. With those thoughts filling your mind, you finally felt sleep begin to take hold, offering you a respite from the whirlwind of emotions and a chance to finally rest.

…..

Tag list: @vlsquuu @love-is-sick @shima707 @6sakusa @p4lli @intimacywithcelestine @docufanfic @jaegersdiary @xcelestina @fvckingeetar @theforest @roronoazorosbxtchh @hannaburnout @camilo-uwu @ec3lipsy @littlemochi @erensonly @f4irycafe @idktbhloley @fairyvibez @desthevirgo @ange11core

[heyimdove]

Things of Note at @neil-gaiman ‘s NJPAC talk:

1. Do you people understand that he switches into accents when he reads? Do you people know he does a perfect Michael Sheen impression? did you know it’s also hot

2. He used to cold call publishers/mags to see if they’d publish his work. He’d lie when asked what other magazines he wrote for; they’d think he was more legitimate and would, therefore, be more likely to take him on themselves. “You couldn’t get away with that now” thanks to Google. Also, back then, “we had telephones and we used them,” but today’s publishers would not easily recover if you unexpectedly called them on the phone.

3. It was a personal point of pride for Neil to write for each of the magazines he’d claimed to have written for. He said “I didn’t lie. I was chronologically challenged.”

4. Neil made a deliberate effort to not be boxed in by publishers. He’d interviewed many authors who were unhappily boxed and did everything he could to avoid it, including declining big contracts from prestigious publishers (notably after American Gods). This is why he can write what he likes now. Comics writing spoiled him in this regard, as publishers mistook the medium for a genre, and therefore didn’t care what he wrote (so he wrote all the genres he wanted to in Sandman).

5. He hates Thomas Hardy thanks to being introduced to him in school. Regarding being forced to read Tess of the D’urbervilles, he said “I wouldn’t do that to a dog”. He hopes students, who might have liked him if they found him on their own, don’t encounter his work in school and hate him for it.

6. “The evil characters (you write) don’t possess you, you try to find the little bit of you in them….the little bit of you that is gloriously evil.”

7. “I touched the magic and passed it along” this was a line from Watching from the Shadows that especially moved me.

8. Terry was increasingly upset as the bidding on Good Omens increased (eventually reaching 150,000 - can’t remember if he said $ or £). For his part, when the book finally sold, Neil put on Iggy Pop’s Success and danced.

9. Anansi Boys should be out on Prime by the end of 2024!

10. Described Sandalphon as someone you want to “hit with a large oar”. (The woman next to me, who was extremely stingy with her applause, hooted like an owl at this and clapped til the last).

11. Pronounces Amazon as “Ama-zin” and Los Angeles as “Los Angelese”. This isn’t noteworthy, but I liked it enough to write it down.

12. “Being on a beach in bare feet” was the line that led Neil to realize David Tennant would be perfect for Crowley.

13. He is pictured on the ALA’s poster holding Wind in the Willows because, as a child, “it messed up my head.” He said he is “in love” with a chapter in the middle called The Piper at the Gates of Dawn where the characters meet Pan. It’s often left out of printings, which makes him sad because it is “strange, beautiful, luminous”.

14. TOATEOTL was originally planned to go to Broadway. Then, Covid. They did a “world tour” instead. Now that it’s wrapped, talks about Broadway are happening. He says all of adaptations of his work, this is his favorite.

15. “Disney’s Aladdin plays four times a day in Hell”

16. His favorite question of the night was “WHY did you think of the Other Mother?” He was tickled by the word choice of “why”

17. Asked the library in Sussex “What have you got in the way of really good horror for four year olds?” Obviously none existed so he wrote Coraline.

18. Talked about going viral for being in a falafel, seemed to marvel at the progression of the meme’s meaning.

19. “Tumblr is its own madness”

20. “Stephen King has fabulous stories about meeting fans in toilets, including being passed a book under the stall”

21. Read “The Day the Saucers Came” which I misheard initially as Sauces. Saucers is definitely better.

22. “You want to see me doing Dickens?” I laughed inappropriately at this. I was the only one.

23. I don’t want to say what pieces he read because I want you to buy tickets to his events. But it was very nice to be read to by Neil Gaiman.

It’s very worth it to go. I flew out from San Diego for this and would do it again in a heartbeat!

[headfulloflettuce]

Masterlist

Fandoms I write for:

ACOTAR

The Human Who Fooled All of Prythian: in progress

ao3

Summary:

“I am going to become a fae.” “You what?!” “Not for real of course.” Cosette smiled, turning to look at Ophelia, “I am going to fake it.” “By the Mother you’re an idiot.”

Cosette expected a nice relaxing evening eating teriyaki chicken after a long day of grueling work. What she did not expect was to get human trafficked and sent on a fetch quest to try and escape Prythian. Were ACOTAR's characters always such jerks?

Chapter 1: Do You Have Teriyaki Chicken Wings?

Chapter 2: Bird in a Cage

Chapter 3: It Was in Fact Not Fine

Chapter 4: The New Routine

Chapter 5: Liar, Liar Pants on Fire

Chapter 6: Friends in Dark Places

Chapter 7: A Warm Blanket

Chapter 8: The Hunt

Chapter 9: Happy Birthday Fern!

Chapter 10: Get Me the Hell Out of Here

Chapter 11: Up-And-Coming Actress

Chapter 12: The Day Fern Died

Chapter 13: Welcome to Winter Court

Chapter 14: Petty Coins

Chapter 15: A Sweet Stench

Chapter 16: Open for Business

Chapter 17: All Things Magic and Mystic

Chapter 18: Family Meeting

Chapter 19: Memento

Chapter 20: A Party for Old Friends

Chapter 21: New Acquaintances

Chapter 22: A Very Polite Non-political Conversation

Chapter 23: I Present Thee With This Muffin of Friendship

Chapter 24: Pointy Stick of Doom

Chapter 25: An Iris and Her Pine Tree

Chapter 26: Toxic Tea

Chapter 27: Failure Is the Path to Success

Chapter 28: A Father's Lessons

Chapter 29: To Velaris!

Chapter 30: Quiet, the Adults Are Talking

Puppet Darling: in progress 7/13

Inspired by @wallflowers-in-the-wind’s post here.

Summary:

Feyre had everything she wanted in life: a loving mate, a family, and a proper home for the first time in ages. Except that she didn’t want it. The last time Feyre had any autonomy were the minutes leading up to Rhysand teaching her how to use her daemati powers.

Or, how Feyre’s moral compass and human self have been trapped deep in her subconsciousness, with Rhys playing puppet master.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain Part 26

Hello, and we have got to the end of the massive arc that culminated the last four chapters.

I also wrote this part before 24 and 25 because I couldn't figure out how to write Eddie having a hard time on tour, but the aftermath flowed from my fingers.

Also as a reminder this story is finished, I'm just posting on a regular schedule. This story is the longest fanfic I've ever written. Topping out at 58165 it's definitely longer than 50K fic I wrote for NaNoWriMo last year (Sandman, never finished or published.)

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12 Pt 13 Pt 14 Pt 15 Pt 16 Pt 17 Pt 18 Pt 19 Pt 20 Pt 21 Meta Pt 22 Pt 23 Pt 24 Pt 25

****

“You’ve been sitting on that sofa for an entire week,” Wayne growled. “Steve has called three times, your bandmates at least a dozen times each. Hell, boy Miranda has been calling concerned. So want to tell me what’s fucking got you so twisted?”

“I was given a choice out there on the road,” Eddie said, twisting his rings around his fingers. “Stay in Indy and play small time gigs for the rest of my adult life or go to LA and get an album and the chance at super stardom.”

Wayne sat down next him. “Sounds like a big decision to make.”

Eddie leapt to his feet. “That’s the problem. That’s what makes me so angry how fucking easy the choice is.”

Wayne cocked his head to the side. “Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate again, boy. Start talking.”

Eddie started pacing back and forth. “As much as I loved playing for so many people, I didn’t like that I could only connect with a handful of them and not even the good kind.” He rubbed his chin angrily. “I didn’t like how tired we all were. It was set up, sound check, play, break down and move on to the next fucking town. And that wasn’t including all the parties, interviews, and all that other shit.”

“That does sound exhausting, Ed.”

“I didn’t like how easy it was for them to tell me to drop Gareth as drummer just because he had trouble adjusting to the increased volume. The price of fame they said. Like it was so simple to throw away almost two decades of friendship for the sake of adoring crowds and hearing our music on the radio.”

“Oh, darlin’,” Wayne said softly. “They didn’t...”

“Oh they absolutely did,” Eddie raged. “I didn’t like how they thought that because me and Steve’s relationship was new that I would be able to find someone better. Someone who liked metal, someone who would be down for the ride.”

Wayne furrowed his brow. “That doesn’t sound like good advice.”

Eddie grabbed his hair pulled at it frustration. “The last straw was when they offered to let their tattooist to finish my back tattoo, because while my artist was good, theirs was better.”

He stopped abruptly and turned to face Wayne. “I picked Steve to do my tattoo on my back because he was the only one I trusted to make it meaningful. To understand the symbolism of making something of yourself when everyone is rooting against you. I made the decision before I fell in love with him and now that we’re a couple– and for them to just dismiss him like that? It made me so angry.”

“So what’s the problem? What’s got you so twisted around the bend?”

Eddie took a deep breath and let it out slow. “I’m fucking furious because I always thought that when fame and fortune came knocking I would throw open that door and march right through it. But now? Given the choice? I’m slamming the door in its face and walking away.”

Hot tears ran down his face. “And I don’t know why.”

He dropped to his knees and began to sob.

Wayne stood up and put his arms around his nephew’s shoulders, gently pulling him to his chest.

“Did that band you were traveling with say that?” he whispered into Eddie’s curls. “Because if they did, I swear to god I will burn every record and CD you have of theirs. Don’t think I won’t. I’ll delete them off your phone too.”

Eddie chuckled weakly. “No, no. They were kind. It was everyone else we met. Agents, managers, roadies, groupies, the people around Metallica every day.”

Wayne nodded.

“I was just constantly bombarded with hateful messages and the constant running at one hundred percent...” he whimpered. “I don’t want to do it.”

“Have you told your band that?” Wayne asked.

Eddie shook his head. “I don’t dare to. I was the one that was gung ho about the touring and everything. How do I tell them I don’t want to leave the comfort of Indianapolis and home?”

“Kinda like that,” Jeff said from the doorway. His arms were crossed and he was leaning against the frame. Peaking around him was Miranda with a concerned look on her face.

Eddie scrambled to his feet and wrapped his arms around his waist. “I’m sorry I’ve been a brat.”

Jeff took three giant steps forward and hugged him fiercely. “You’re not being a brat. You’re scared and trying to figure it all out on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? We’ve all been worried sick about you. But Steve especially. I’ll call all the boys down for a chat and you call Steve, okay?”

Eddie nodded.

He dialed the number he knew by heart.

“Baby?” he asked, unsure of the reaction he was going to get. He deserved to be yelled at. Cursed at. Broken up with. He’d hurt Steve the most with this little temper tantrum he’d been having.

“Eds?” Steve breathed. “Sunshine, are you okay? Wayne said you hadn’t been eating well or sleeping much. Say the word and I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

Eddie’s lip began to quiver and tears spilled out of his eyes. “I need you. More than anything.”

“I’m on my way,” Steve said fiercely.

Eddie looked over at Jeff.

“Tell Steve Brian will swing by and pick him up.”

Eddie nodded and relayed the message back to Steve.

“I’ll be at my apartment,” Steve said. “I’ll have Robin arrange my schedule, don’t you worry about thing, baby.”

“Mm’k.”

“I love you, Eds.”

Eddie closed his eyes and breathed in the warmth of that simple phrase. “Love you, too, pretty boy. Come quick.”

“I promise.”

*

Steve piled into Brian’s car. It was the newest, having bought it right before they got picked up by Metallica. He had finally saved up enough money to replace his beater.

Gareth and Gethin in the backseat. Gethin had come up to Indy to watch his twin’s apartment while he was gone and just ended up staying. He was currently looking for a job so that he could move in with Gareth full time.

At least that what they said on the trip down. The twins and Brian were intent on filling the air with talk and Steve let them. He let them fill him in on the tour and everything that had been going on since they’d left.

Steve couldn’t be for certain, but it sounded like that touring hadn’t been fun for anyone. Even after a week of rest, he could still make out the circles under their eyes and how hunched over they were with just sheer exhaustion.

A feeling Steve felt all too well.

Gethin was pressed against his twin’s side and was rubbing his neck soothingly.

Steve looked at Brian.

His face was set, hard and unflinching. He was going to make the drive to Hawkins as fast as he could and still avoid the cops.

Steve was grateful Brian was driving because he didn’t think he would have made the distinction to avoid breaking the law. He would have gunned it and flipped off any cop that tried to catch him.

After awhile, Steve was getting the oddest feeling that Brian was used to speeding down this stretch of highway because there were points where he would slow down for a few miles and then speed right back up.

Soon enough they were pulling up to Wayne’s trailer and piling out the car.

*

Eddie sat on the sofa with Jeff and Miranda on either side of him, just hugging him.

Wayne was busying himself in the kitchen, getting ready to feed the hoard that was about to descend on his home.

The door opened up and Brian, Gareth, and Gethin all stumbled through the entryway. Eddie was on his feet in an instant, Jeff and Miranda not far behind.

And then the trio at the door parted and there stood Steve. Looking just as tired and worn as Eddie felt.

“Stevie?” Eddie asked, taking a step toward him uncertainly.

Steve threw open his arms and Eddie ran straight into them. They wrapped their arms around each other and just sobbed.

“I’m here, Eds,” Steve murmured into Eddie’s neck. “I’m here. I love you so much.”

Eddie lifted his head and kissed him hard. “I love you, too. I regret leaving you behind, sweetheart. It nearly killed me. Every song I wrote was about you. About missing you. I don’t even want to leave you ever again, I can’t.”

The silence that followed that statement was deafening.

Steve led Eddie back over to couch and sat them both down. “Tell us everything, babe.”

And so Eddie did. He told them everything. Everything he had told Wayne, everything that had been weighing on his mind since they started touring. It all just came out in a flood.

They all listened patiently.

“Why didn’t you tell us you felt like that while we were on the road?” Gareth asked. “I knew what they were saying about me, but I also knew you guys wouldn’t drop me. If you had me about that I would have been able to reassure you that I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Eddie flushed with embarrassment. “I didn’t know how to bring it up, it was so vile, man.”

Jeff gave his hand a squeeze. “Well, I think that you did a bang up job telling us now and that’s what really matters.”

“Someone offered to ship me out to LA and record an album,” Eddie finally admitted. “Not the band, just me. I told him that I wouldn’t go without you guys and he laughed in my face. Told me to cut the dead weight and be a star.” He dragged his hands over his face.

“But there were other offers. Good ones. Ones that included the band, well most of it, anyway. Always under the proviso that Gareth be replaced either on tour or all together. They didn’t want to make any accommodations for him even though there is a drummer with one god damn arm!”

“So the options are,” Brian said, “stay in Indy doing what we’ve been doing, only better because of the money we got for doing this tour. Go to LA without Gareth. Go to LA with Gareth but only as a studio musician and take some person we don’t know on tour with us. Does that sound about right?”

Just then Gareth’s phone went off. He looked at it with a frown. It wasn’t a number recognized so he let it go to voicemail. He pulled it up after the notification popped up.

He listened to message with wide eyes. “Hey guys, I think we have another option.” And he played the message so everyone could hear.

“Hey, Mr Hughes,” the tinny voice said through the speaker. “This is Murray Bauman, I’m music producer, we spoke in Las Vegas. I think I have the perfect deal for you boys. You were telling me that touring was really hard on you and that if there was an option you wouldn’t do that. I know you weren’t speaking for all your band, but I could tell that they would do anything for you, all four of you being such good friends.

“So the reason for this call is that I own a small music company in Bloomington and boy do I have a deal for you all. You would make a record through us, we would sell and distribute the record, keeping a portion of the sales, of course. But you wouldn’t have to tour. You have a steady gig as I understand it. If your fans want to see you play, they’ll know where to find you.

“But give me a call, we’ll hash out the details. My phone number is 555-555-2080...” and then message beeped, signaling the end of the voicemail.

Eddie looked down at the phone and then back up at Gareth. “Oh.”

Gareth grinned. “We don’t even have to take his offer, but I vote we listen to it. Brian can bring Cecil.”

Brian nodded. “He’s only got a semester left of law school, but I’ll have him brush up on his contract law to be on the safe side.”

Jeff raised his hand. “All in favor of hearing Mr Bauman out raise your hand?”

Eddie, Brian, and Gareth’s hands shot up.

“Sounds good,” Jeff said. “You call him back and set it up and if it doesn’t work out we can vote again.”

Brian shook his head. “Nah. I think if it doesn’t work, we stick to Nightmare Holes. We took a swing at it and if it’s a miss then we tried. I thought I wanted the touring and everything that came with stardom, but like Eddie I learned I wanted the romanticized version of it. I’ll be happy playing in front of our friends for the rest of our lives.”

The rest of the band nodded.

Soon everyone getting up to go back to Indy, but Steve stayed behind, he would go back up with Eddie in the morning. They had things to discuss that went deeper then the band.

****

Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

I told you I would fix it.

Also a little BTS, the reason in my head for why things went wrong on tour but immediately righted itself when Eddie and Steve met up again? Steve still has Eddie's lucky pick. ;)

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@bookworm0690 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @aizawa-emma @yikes-a-bee @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @archermightbegay @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @oldwitcheshat @nightmareglitter @tinyplanet95 @novelnovella @jonesn4coffee @slowandsteddie @awkwardgravity1 @steaddie-on

[tillthelandslide]

Insufferable Arsehole Part 16: Marry Me

A/n: I’m definitely not crying…. Sorry in advance for the sappy note: This series has been a whirlwind to write and I honestly went through it with this one. I hated it and loved it in equal measure (that’s on me though because I'm self-critical lol) but I'm truly sad it's over. I owe so much to this series, it was the first proper work I had published within this fandom, it brought me so many of you wonderful people. The main thing I want to say is thank you to every single person who read it, whether you’ve read one chapter or 16, THANK YOU!!! I just want to say that although the main series is over I am truly happy to continue writing little bits for these characters so if you have anything you want to see please let me know 🥹 I love you guys - Lou

Precious Part

Series Masterlist

The rest of the tour rolls by quicker than any of them expected. Matty and Lou spend every waking moment with each other and with their boys. The group laugh and drink and play the music they love and they're completely content. Their days are filled with the friends that were family now and their nights are filled with just them, their bodies and souls intertwined, their love being confessed and shown in every possible way they know how.

Each show seems better than the last and each of them are unsure whether it's because their love was always adapting and growing or whether it was because time was running out and they were hell bent on not letting it get taken for granted. They secretly thought it was a mix of both.

Lou and George would spend as much time together as they could, sometimes accompanied by Matty, usually wedged between them, sometimes resting across their laps (squashing them) or at their feet, the three of them laughing about things only they seemed to understand.

Lou and Ross would spend their time with Matty or sometimes with Mia when she was able to join them. Matty enjoyed watching the way they laughed together and felt privileged to hear them tell stories or spill secrets and confessions.

Adam and Carly would spend their time with the couple showing them ultrasounds or clothes they had bought for the little man. They'd talk about what they liked to call 'grown up things' and Matty would tell them the things he was going to teach the little man.

Then there were the times they were all together, one big happy family, a huge loving and supportive system that knew they would die for each other. Each time they’d laugh, each time they’d smile so wide their faces would hurt, each time they’d hug and talk and cry together, would make them realise how lucky they were to have each other.

Matty loved the moments before the shows, he'd spend hours watching her write in her notebook. He was in awe every time she sang and he knew he'd spend every day of his life proving his love for her.

Eventually the end of the tour rolled round and the last show was performed: a teary and emotional one, filled with one too many hugs and kisses. It was a show like no other and each of them was hesitant to leave the stage, knowing that would be the end : at least for now.

The party Jamie had thrown for them was huge, everyone and anyone they knew was invited, not that they spent much time with anyone else but each other. Matty and Lou disappeared to the toilets at one point when Charli and George had taken over the decks. Luckily no one could hear them over the loud music, but god did were they loud.

Adam and Carly's son was born three days later, the group crowding around the hospital room, taking turns in holding the little man. Carly asked to see Lou and Matty separately an hour or two after the birth. She simply placed the baby in Matty's arms, the baby boy wrapping his finger around Lou's pinky as her boyfriend held him, his barely opened eyes trained on her instead of the little man.

Carly felt emotional as she looked at them, smiling happily as her husband held her close to him. They had both come so far since the start and witnessing their journey was beautiful.

"I love you" Matty said, making her eyes snap away from the baby holding onto her finger. Something about the way he said it was different from all the other times, she couldn't quite pinpoint what it was exactly, but she felt it in every fibre of her being. She knew if the whole world changed tomorrow, she'd be certain Matty would be there, unchanged and forever loving her fiercely.

"I love you too" she says, tears filling her eyes. The rest of the group come back into the room now, suspiciously standing in a semicircle around them.

"I want this" he says, looking down at the child in his hands "I want all of this with you" he says, his own eyes filling with tears now. Adam moves to take his son, knowing what was coming, having spoken to Matty with his wife about this exact moment.

Lou gasps as Matty drops to one knee, his hand dipping into his pocket before pulling out a velvet box.

"I know we haven't had the easiest ride... I know I was an absolute Arsehole for most of it... And I can't promise I won't be that.. at least sometimes" he says making her chuckle through her teary eyes and choked throat.

"But I can promise that I have loved you, more than I have ever loved anything or anyone, for as long as I have known you and I can promise I will continue to do that until the day I die" he says, his voice breaking slightly, tears flooding his cheeks. Her knees buckle, taking her to him, holding his face in his cheeks.

"I have had this ring... Since Rome. I just knew, I knew even before you were mine that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you... I know this has happened quickly and it's been intense... But it's also been fucking incredible... The best thing that has ever happened to me and I know... I know in my soul that you are my person" he says, making tears fall even quicker from her face.

"You make me a better man. Lou...My love... I love you so much... Will you marry me?" He asks as he opens the velvet box in his hands, revealing a beautiful diamond ring.

"Yes Matty. Of course I will" she says, pressing her mouth to his before pulling back, allowing him to place the ring on her finger before their lips find each other again.

"I love you so much" she says against his mouth. The couple stand then and are swarmed with hugs from their friends.

George pulls her into a tight hug, lifting her from the ground and she notices he's been crying too.

"I'm so fucking happy for you... Marrying my best friend... The best man I know" George says as he pulls back from her, Lou nods at him.

"I'm so glad you were here for this g" she says, pulling him back into her embrace. George is then moving to Matty, the two guys crying into each other as Ross comes to hug Lou.

"You got the happy ending you deserve" Ross says, making her smile. The group comes together then, joining in a big group hug.

"sorry we took your moment away from you guys" Lou says, her words directed at Carly and Adam.

"It's alright... Matty asked us and we couldn't say no, it's you" Carly says, making her smile widely.

"Besides, Matty never lets me have my moment" Adam says jokingly, making everyone laugh.

She looks around her empty flat, one box left, her entire life up to this point tucked away in boxes, currently being loaded into a van by her best friends. She hears distant laughter, George’s cackle, Ross’ chesty machine gun laugh, Hann’s gentle chuckle and Matty’s childish giggle. Her eyes water as she looks around the space, feeling someone rest their chin on her shoulder as their arms wrap around her frame.

“You okay?” she hears Charli ask and she lets out a brief “mhmm”.

“A lot to take in, I know” Charli says, pulling away from her friend and allowing her to turn. Matty listens in from the doorway, leaning against the wall. “Having second thoughts?” Charli asks, trying to sense her friend's mood. Lou shakes her head and smiles.

“About Matty? Never” that makes him smile widely, his stomach filling with butterflies.

“It’s hard moving out of your home” Charli says and Lou turns to look around the room again. She shakes her head and smiles widely.

“This isn’t my home… not really” Charli is confused but then Lou is turning to her again and hugging her tightly. She pulls away after a beat.

“Matty is my home… you guys are my home. As long as I’ve got you and him… I'm good” Matty wants to rush in and hug her tightly and kiss her like it was the last chance he’d get but he doesn’t want to disturb her, or admit he was eavesdropping.

Charli nods, she gets it. She places a kiss to her cheek “I’ll leave you to it” she then leaves, passing Matty on the way out.

“You’re so lucky Matty… to have someone love you like she does” Charli says, wiping a tear from her cheek and pressing a kiss to Matty’s cheek.

“I know… believe me i know” he walks into her apartment, finding her and wrapping his arms around her.

“Ready to go?” he asks, looking down at her. His heart falters when she smiles up at him, leaning on her tiptoes to press a haste kiss to his lips.

“Ready to spend the rest of my life with you?” she asks, watching the way a huge smile breaks out across his lips “never been more ready”.

George stands at the centre table, to the right of Matty, he's holding a champagne flute in one hand and a microphone in the other, his eyes hold tears in the corners and he has a lump in his throat as he begins to speak.

"I have always known that Lou is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. She is an incredible friend, someone who will love you in the exact way you need, someone who will love you so hard that your broken parts start to heal. She is my best friend and for years I waited until she met someone who loved her the way she deserved..." George says, his voice cracking several times as she spoke, Lou stared at him, Matty squeezing her hand as tears ran down her cheeks.

"Never did I expect it to be Matty" George says, making everyone, including the married couple, laugh.

"Matty is also my best friend, my partner, my bandmate and my brother... I truly believe it when I say that he's the best guy I know" he says, making Matty cry a little.

"But he wasn't always that way with Lou... I won't go into that too much because the past is the past... Although I will still end you if you so much as hurt her" he says jokingly making everyone laugh again.

"Matty loves Lou exactly the way she deserves and Lou makes Matty better. They are perfect for each other and I am so unbelievably happy and proud to witness their love... Because it's fucking beautiful. Congratulations to my best friends... I would make a joke about the sex going down hill from here but... I've heard you in hotels and on the tour buses so I very much doubt that's going to happen" he says, everyone laughs as Lou blushes, hiding her face in her hands. Matty pries them away with a kiss to her cheek, making everyone awe.

Everyone cheers and then Matty and Lou hug George tightly.

"I love you" they both say to him.

Mia then stands to do her speech, looking around the room before she speaks "I'm really shit at these things so... Sorry in advance" everyone laughs again.

"Lou is the best sister I could ever ask for and I'm probably biased when I say this but she is far too good for this world and the people in it... Sorry Matty" he just nods along, agreeing.

"But from the moment I met you Matty, I knew you were her person. I had never seen her the way she is with you, you make her so happy and I will always thank you for that. I wish you both the absolute best, Lou, I love you and I am so proud to call you my sister... And we are so happy" she says, gesturing to their family "to be welcoming Matty in to our family, he is the best thing that has ever happened to you. And you him cheers" everyone cheers then and Matty and Lou share a sweet kiss.

Matty then stands, still holding onto Lou's hand. He shakes his head as he looks down at her, bringing his hand up to his mouth and kissing the back of it. He then looks at everyone else, raising his glass up to them.

"God... I just want to start by saying thank you" he says, gesturing to those who have made speeches.

"And thank you to all of you for coming... For sharing this beautiful day with us" he sighs then "okay this is the part where I get really fucking emotional and make a fool of myself and make my wife question the fact she's just married me" he says making everyone laugh. Lou whispers a never to him and he smiles.

"Fuck... 'My wife' that's mental. She's my wife" he points at her, she smiles widely at him. She watches as his eyes water and the way he briefly tucks his lips into his mouth, fighting back the tears.

"You look so beautiful. You always look so fucking beautiful but my god" he says, everyone smiling as she fawns over her.

"I am truly the luckiest man alive... I'm going to try to keep this short and sweet before I start weeping. Lou you are the best thing that has ever happened to me and I know I will thank whatever force allowed you to be mine, I will count my lucky stars everyday because you are mine. I don't know what the future holds... But I know as long as I have you, I'll be okay" he says making her smile, he leans down to kiss her gently before he continues.

"I love you so much" he says.

"I love you too"

It's then her time to stand.

"I'm not even going to try one up you on that" she says.

"I have written so many speeches, thrown them away and then rewritten them... I wrote about how we once hated each other but that story didn't quite do us justice... Because we are so much more than that... I then wrote all the things I love about you, but it was too long and I knew I'd get too emotional... And then I started wracking my brain on what I could say" she says looking down at him.

"I knew I wanted to tell you how much I love you but I could’t find the words to truly encapsulate what that's like. And I thought... Why say something... When you can sing it? Now I know you have begged me every single day since we got engaged to sing at this wedding and everyday I said no... And that's because I had something else planned" she says, looking around at the band and smiling at them.

"I guess you could say this is our last show… without you of course" she says and they all stand up, making Matty gasp as they make their way to the dancefloor that has been set up, microphones set up (ready for what Matty presumed would be the band they've hired). Ross stands go the left of her, Hann to the right, George behind her, Polly at the back next to George on the right and Jamie and John to the left.

"You and this band, are the best thing that has ever happened to me, you’re my family and my home and I love you all so much.. but this is for you. I love you so much Matty" she then sings a cover of All I Need To Hear with the band playing their instruments. It brings tears to his eyes and he shakes his head as she smiles at him.

"Just tell me you love me, that's all that I need to hear" she sings and he mouths an I love you to her.

They finish up the song and Lou begins speaking again.

"Okay... That was just a warm up" she says, making everyone laugh. The boys hug her and she thanks them before they leave. Jamie hands her an acoustic guitar, his guitar, one in which he had gifted to her at the end of the tour and Matty thinks he's going to sob, seeing her dressed in her beautiful white wedding dress, holding his guitar in her arms.

"I... I wrote this song, for you" she says, "I didn't release it because it's yours... only yours" She says and he knows what she's about to sing.

"When I was younger I saw my daddy cry and curse at the wind. He broke his own heart and I watched, as he tried to reassemble it. And my mumma swore, that she would, never let herself forget, and that was the day that I promised, I'd never sing of love, if it does not exist, but darling, you, are, the only exception' she sings.

She finishes the song, wiping the tears from her cheeks as she passes the guitar back to Jamie. Matty joins her then, gripping her tightly in his arms as he presses his lips to hers “I love you so much, my wife” he says against her mouth, the couple laugh as everyone around them cheer. Both of them throw up their middle fingers to the boys when they begin to make inappropriate comments. They all laugh and cry as they watch them.

They sit at the steps outside their venue. Their friends and family are dancing inside, drinking and laughing, celebrating their love.

Matty’s hand is resting on her thigh, over the fabric of her white dress. Her hand is playing with a few stray curls that had fallen in front of his face, whilst her other hand rests under her chin. Her hand only moves from his hair when he passes her his cigarette, watching her as she takes a few puffs before handing it back to him.

“You're so beautiful” he murmurs “my wife” a huge smile breaks out over her features, eyes crinkling and teeth baring. Her eyes flick from his eyes which have been brimming with happy tears the entire night, down to his lips which are spread wide too.

“I love you, my husband” they hear the door creak behind them, revealing their group of closest friends.

“Sorry we're not interrupting are we” Carly says kindly.

“You'd be able to hear them a mile off if we were interrupting’ comes from George, making everyone laugh. His arm is wrapped around Charli who looks up at him fondly as he speaks. They'll be next, she thinks.

“You know you guys are always welcome” Lou says, making the group walk down the steps to join them.

“But maybe call before you spontaneously pop round to ours” Matty says, wiggling his eyebrows at the group, receiving a quick light smack from Lou, which makes everyone laugh.

They fill out the steps pretty quickly. Charli and George perch on a ledge near them, Mia and Ross sit a few steps down, turning around to look at them, Lou smiles widely at their intertwined hands.

Carly and Hann are nuzzled together a step down to the right of them.

“Where's the little man?” Matty asks, making Hann look up.

“Your mum's looking after him” makes him smile.

John, Jamie, Gabi and Polly are scattered here and there. They sit in silence for a few moments, sharing a few cigarettes, all with huge smiles on their faces. They watch as the sky continues to get darker and as stars begin to appear.

Matty pulls her closer, pressing a kiss to her cheek before mumbling in her ear.

“I love you” she turns to kiss him, only pulling away when she hears Ross speak.

“What now?” He asks and everyone chuckles.

“What do you mean , what now?” George says, laughing loudly.

“I mean what happens now… Hann and Carly are married and have just had a kid… Lou and Matty are now married and will probably be popping out babies in no time” his words make Lou blush and Matty smear his lips to her cheek.

“You bet” he murmurs into her ear before he delivers his next line to the group “we'll be practising for a bit mate don't you worry about that” it causes another chorus of laughs to break out.

“You guys will probably be married next” Ross says pointing to Charli and George.

“And then we'll all be busy and be less inclined to see each other… what happens then?”

“Don't be daft mate… the bands not broken up. We're just having a little break. You know Matty can't go that long without making music anyway and who's he going to get to help him if it's not us?” George says, Ross shrugs at that, nodding his head slowly in agreement once he realises George is right.

“Besides… we're a family” Polly says, everyone looks around at each other then, smiling at one another.

“We're a family” Matty confirms, eyes trained on his wife who's looking back at him just as intently.

The group slowly begins to filter out, leaving the newlyweds alone on the steps.

“What now?” Lou repeats Ross’ words from earlier, feeling the sentiment behind them. Everything up to this point seemed so perfectly planned as if it was scripted. Their own little novel, a story of two people who hated each other, discovering that they in fact didn't hate each other at all. A story of two people, finally loving and being loved by the one person who they were supposed to be loved by.

Now everything was out in the open, Lou didn't know what would happen next and the thought was both exciting and terrifying.

“We go on our honeymoon, have a ton of sex” Lou laughs and nudges Matty's shoulder with her own “we eat amazing food and drink loads of alcohol and we love each other every day we're there” she smiles, Matty places a hand against her cheek and she leans into it.

“And we come home, and maybe the band will write some songs and eventually do another tour and maybe you'll do the same with your band, but we'll stick together through all of it, through thick and thin… we'll love”

“And then what?” She asks, he chuckles and places his lips against hers, they laugh as they kiss.

“And then we have the rest of our lives, we don't need to plan it, as long as we've got each other” she nods at that.

“Yeah, as long as we've got each other…”

“Here's to the rest of our lives baby” he says, smearing his lips against hers. He pulls back slightly and she watches as a smirk comes to rest against his lips.

“Now how about we get you home, so I can get you out of this dress?” She giggles at his words as she pulls him in for another kiss.

“Lead the way Mr Healy” Matty stands, reaching down to her. Lou intertwines their hands and allows him to pull her up to him. She collides with him, her lips merging with his again.

“Come home with me, Mrs Healy” he murmurs against her mouth, twisting his tongue against hers, making her sigh.

“I love you” she pulls back slightly, one hand sweeping the curls that had fallen loose from his hair back.

“Your insufferable arsehole” he says, smiling down at her.

“My insufferable arsehole”

“Always”

“For the rest of our lives”

Taglist: @scooby-doodoo @thereisaplaceintheheart @promocodesorry75 @eaglestar31 @thefrontofmymind @fallingforel @partoftheairforce @procrastinatinglikeapro @poisonmedaddy13 @xthe1975 @all-things-fic @jstbeeingme @rossgirly @juliardk @you-muppet @moodyyyychickx @k4tie75 @insidemymind19 @zzzhealy @maybeiwouldlikeyou @at-her-very-foreign @not-alien-girl-v @sinarainbows @friedlandblog @momentum2023 @youlooklikeshitandyousmellabit @inhalerbea (add yourself using the link in my bio 😊, those with a line through are the ones i couldn’t tag)

[centuryberry]

Queen of the Mountain Universe

So, after watching Season 5 (which has devastated me, by the way - completely and utterly destroyed me), I was inspired to incorporate a certain character into the Queen of the Mountain Universe and tie together the AUs tied to the games. (Excluding the A/B/O AU, Fae AU, and the Imperial Harem AU.)

This technically isn't a fic spoiler since I won't be adding any of this into the main fic itself, mind you. I already have too much planned in Acts II and III to include the new revelations, but I'm writing my ideas here. (May consider writing some oneshots set post-QotM.)

Warning: Spoilers for LMK Season 5 below!

We all knew it was Xiangliu. This snake man has a grip on me that only happened once before when Season 1 Macaque sashayed into my life. Holy hell, he's the definition of chaotic neutral. Also, the hints of lore he dropped before casually moving on because he thought it wasn't important? Drove me insane. What do you mean you and Wukong used to be friends? What do you mean Macaque made a deal? What do you mean be "he's winning"?! Who's he?!

I have no idea what LMK has planned for him (or if he's even going to come back in the future seasons), but I know what plans I have for him now.

To be honest, Xiangliu (the Nine-Headed Demon who nearly scammed Ao Guang and his ilk in Chapter 16) wasn't supposed to be significant in the Queen of the Mountain universe. But with how Season 5 ended up, I made him into a more important player.

Just like the LMK world, I'd like to think that the QotM world also experiences a similar "cycle" in the form of "resets." It would make sense, right? As In the Sun's Embrace and Sunchaser are games that encourages reloads and resets to explore different routes, it's not too far-fetched to think that the world itself experiences something similar.

I've always had a fondness of Time Loops in stories, especially with at least one person remembering every loop. Xiangliu would be that person in this case. Somehow, he became aware of what was happening and yearned for an escape from this constant resetting of the world.

(He must've gone insane gaining and losing friends, lovers, and enemies, doomed to repeat the same song and dance again except his bonds would never be the same since he's always changing and always growing while everyone else regresses every time.)

Eventually, he removed himself from the living world all together and replaced one of the Ten Kings of the Underworld to find a way out. Still, he'd pop up here and then to maybe make some interventions or watch when something new played out.

While a lot of the diverging AUs are mostly due to the different choices made by individuals, I'd like to think that Xiangliu made some of them possible. Notably, Warlord Shanzha AU, Withered Grave Flowers AU, Detoxify AU, and Extra Pilgrim AU.

Well, you noticed how LBD seems to be absent in those AUs, right? How Yue magically comes out of things alive and unpossessed by her into the modern era? Well, the answer in Xiangliu. He doesn't do this in every cycle, but he sometimes has the heart to spare Yue from her canon fate. Making her fate better always seems to give happier endings to all of the celestial monkeys. Not perfect, but happier.

(And, because it would be so funny to me, I'd like to think he at least hooked up with every member of the celestial monkey poly occasionally in between cycles. So he has a history with all of them which I may expand on in another post if anyone's interested.)

So, there you have it. A way for all of these AUs to technically be canon. (Thank you, Season 5.)

As for what Xiangliu is doing during Queen of the Mountain, he's doing nothing. For the first time, he didn't have to do anything to make a drastic change to the usual script. For the first time, he's interested to see how things turn out. Because of a certain six-eared baby monkey yaoguai who ended up in the palanquin.

[wolfjackle-creates]

My Writing Masterpost

List of Subscription Posts (Follow for Tumblr Notifications on any of my fics.)

Good Omens:

The Demon Piper: Crowley is in Hamlin, Germany in 1284 and offers to help the children of the town. They take him up on it and the legend of the Pied Piper is born.

AO3, 24k words, rated T

An Evening In: Human AU. Aziraphale has a bad day and Crowley promises to make it better. PWP

AO3, 18k words, rated E

Carry On: After the garden, the First Family has to find their way in the wider, more dangerous world. But Heaven and Hell aren't ready to leave them alone so Crawly and Aziraphale tag along. When Cain has the idea to sacrifice the best of his harvest to God, Abel also wishes to sacrifice the best of his lambs.

God chooses Her favorite and the First Family is left to pick up the pieces as best they can.

AO3, M rating (Prequel to The Demon Piper)

DP x DC Fics:

Bring Me Home: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and when Danny's parents take his reveal poorly, Tim helps get him safe.

Tumblr prompt fill, 3.5k words, M rating (for fandom typical violence)

Subscription Post

Alternative Reunion: This is an alternate way the original fill could've gone if Tim hadn't been there to get Danny out, but Danny still managed to escape to Gotham.

Rewrite - Friend Request (Arc 1): AO3; Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Silver and Gold (Arc 2): AO3; Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20

Arc 3: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Ghost!Robin Haunts Jason AU: Jazz is dating Jason, so she and Danny are invited to dinner at Wayne Manor to meet the family. Danny arrives and meets Jason for the first time only to be distracted by the ghost of the dead Robin that is hanging off of him. T rating

Original Prompt (and collab fill), Subscription Post

Arc 1: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13

Arc 2: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Answer My Call: (Wrong Number AU) Jazz, Sam, and Tucker manage to help Danny escape the GIW, but they can't follow him and are under too much surveillance to communicate with each other. Sam snuck Danny a phone as he ran and Jazz sends him a text every day, hoping to hear he is all right. But he's not the one getting the texts.

Jason was away for several months on a mission with the Outlaws. When he finally returns home, he is surprised to find dozens of messages from an unknown number begging a Danny to tell her he's okay. Looks like there's not going to be a break between missions this time around.

T rating (might go up to M for fandom-typical violence)

AO3 Link

Subscription Post

Tumblr Links: Original Prompt and Fill, (actual) Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Part 1, Part 2

I'll Carry Your Heart (Until I Find You Again): Danny and Jason meet in the zone after Jason's death. They become friends (and more). But Jason doesn't think it's enough. He finds Desiree and wishes for his life back. But for every wish, she exacts a price.

Chapter 1: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Danny's Arc: Part 1

The Two Ghost Motel: Danny is tired.

Endless ghost fights with too many responsibilities and too little time; he barely passed sophomore year. When Ember visits town for a bit of fun, she mentions the Two Ghost Motel, a place of peace and refuge for restless ghosts who aren't ready to cross over.

“I’m fine, Ember.”

Danny’s got a home and friends. He’s fine, really.

But when his parents begin experimenting with electricity to destabilize ghosts, it’s too much for Danny. Unfortunately, neither Sam nor Tucker can host him for the night and he’s left wandering in the night, alone. Then he sees it: The Two Ghost Motel.

He checks in.

“Welcome.”

AO3

Tumblr: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Behind the Fortress Walls: Jazz is in love with Dick. He’s kind, considerate, and caring. Far and away the nicest person she’s ever dated.

But she’s lying to him. About so, so much. And he’ll hate her once he learns the truth. Assuming he doesn't get tired of her canceling all their dates first.

When Danny and Ellie go missing, the latest in a series of ghostly disappearances, she's forced to cancel another date. Going to Elmerton to meet up with Tucker and Sam, she will get Danny and Ellie back from the GIW no matter what it takes.

Only…they aren't the only ones breaking in.

T rating, 32k words

AO3

Want to Hold on and Feel I Belong: Danny is finally settling into his new life with the Waynes and loves them. But then he finds out their secret identities. The Justice League works with the US Government. And the US Government funds the GIW. He won't go back to them. He won't.

Tumblr Links: Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

AO3 Link

Subscription Post

Empathy Verse: Jazz literally runs into someone outside the library when she's distracted. She's about to apologize when she feels the ghost-empathy radiating off the stranger. Instead she relaxes into his embrace.

Tumblr Link: Parts 1-5

Something to Feel: Danny moved to Gotham for university. However, the lack of other ghosts in the city is leaving him restless. He needs to get away from people and let off some steam.

Then he meets another halfa in the park. They're about to start fighting when Danny realizes their might be a more fun way to vent their frustrations.

Rating: E (smut)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Remember, Remember: Danny is a failed clone of Dick by the Court of Owls. Erasing his memory, they threw him out onto the world where he eventually got adopted by the Fentons. If the portal accident somehow knocked loose the mental block hiding his memories… Who knows what could happen.

Tumblr Link - 1k

AO3 Link - 1.3k

Electricity: Danny Phantom has been brought into the Justice League and it's great!

Or, well, it would be if Danny could be paired with anyone who wasn't an electricity user. The post-mission panic attacks are getting old and Jazz is worried.

Tumblr Link - 1.5k, T rating

AO3 Link - 2.4k, T rating

School Nurse!Danny: Danny gets a job as the nurse at Tim's school. He recognizes the type of injuries Tim comes in with almost immediately but doesn't say anything, happy to patch him up in the office or let him take a nap when needed. Until Red Robin decides to go out in costume the day after Tim was in his office with a broken arm. Looks like he has to call a parent-nurse meeting.

Tumblr Link - 1.6k words, G rating

AO3 Link - 2.7k

Memes!!!

Kidnap Buddies: Tim and Danny are both kidnapped in Gotham when the goons couldn't figure out which black haired, blue eyed boy was Tim Drake. They bond as they're locked up and Danny uses is powers to help them escape.

T rating, 1.6k, complete. Tumblr only currently

No Place Left to Hide: Danny is on the run. He wants nothing more than to see his family, but they're out of his reach at the moment.

Then he sees a magazine article and accompanying photo of Damian Wayne. His long-lost twin brother.

Maybe he does have some family he can check on. Just to spy from a distance, of course. Getting too close would only make his situation worse. But when he gets caught in the halls of Gotham Academy, he might not have a choice in the matter.

Tumblr, AO3

T rating, 3.1k, complete

Solved with a Touch: Danny and Damian Twin AU. Danny seeks out refuge with his birth father after he is forced to leave Amity. But he and Damian just cannot get along. So much time has passed and both of them have changed so much that they just cannot figure out how to reconnect. Until Dick forces them to go to a carnival together and they get hit with Poison Ivy's cuddle pollen.

Tumblr only, T rating, 2.8k

Johnny and Kitty overshadow Batman and Superman: What it says on the tin. Danny thinks the Justice League is expecting him to take care of the ghost problem in Amity alone. But when he goes to Gotham apologizing profusely for letting Kitty and Johnny get past him, the heroes have no idea who he is. Or why he was left to deal with a problem so severe on his own. As a teenager.

Half filled prompt, opening scene with Danny rushing to Gotham. Then it skips ahead to the heroes discovering the state of the Fenton household in Amity.

Attack on Sight: Demon Twin AU. Danny is in Gotham with his parents and Jazz when he sees Damian. League instincts kick in and the two are at each other's throats before Jazz or Dick can intervene.

Tumblr only, 1.1k, G/T rating

Constantine Bingo: Danny is being introduced to the Wayne's as Jason's boyfriend. During dinner, he gets notice that he won that round of Constantine Bingo.

Tumblr prompt fill, 873 words, G rating

Stalker Danny: Jason is being stalked and threatened by some sort of pit demon. Danny hopes the new halfa he just came across will accept his courting gifts.

Tumblr prompt fill, 764 words

Justice League Mechanic!Danny: When Danny applied for his position as civilian engineer with the JL, he filled out the demographic information stating he was a half ghost. Apparently, a number of the heroes didn't get the message and are freaked out when his heart stops beating or he puts a pause on the whole breathing thing.

1,060 words, T rating

DC Only

Obligatory Truth Serum Fic: Tim Drake gets captured and injected by a truth serum. Now he has to escape both the up-and-coming villain and his family before he can be asked any questions he doesn't want to answer.

2k, G rating

Something Next to Normal: Tim's having a regular day at school when a classmate ropes him into helping with the school play as the light technician. Tim agrees to one rehearsal, but his responsibilities as Robin keep him so busy. He knows he'll have to turn down the position.

Then he learns what Next to Normal is about. Tim absolutely cannot do this.

Meanwhile, Alfred is proud of Tim for taking on an extracurricular. The boy spends so much time alone. Having an excuse to spend time with other students his age can only be good for him.

He wants to go see the show, but Tim counsels against it. After looking it up, Alfred spends a night in sleepless grief.

But when day comes and he's face-to-face with Tim, he realizes the living boy in front of him needs him and something has to change.

11k, M rating

[gretavanmoon]

an omnipresent force• ch 2

Chapter 2- DARK ENIGMA

Jake x reader (we'll get there... I promise)

Words: 12.4k

A/N: Semi-AU// Set six years in the future, the world has decided to cast humankind aside, starting with the poisonous entities that are destroying her the most.

Warnings: Dystopian Horror Cursing, Smoking, Mention of Drugs, Feelings of Fear and Uncertainty, An Apocalyptic World, Hunting, Violence (mention of firearms), Kidnapping, Wounds and Pain, Blood, Death & Dying, Burials, Lying, Deceit, Sadness, Panic Attacks, Use of Restraints, Mentions of Sex

Cheatham County, Tennessee

Five days later

Y/N

The old wood of the rocking chair squeaks beneath me as I gently move my body back and forth, snuggling into my thick afghan wrapped around my body. There is a light dusting of snow on the ground, and I’d spent the majority of the evening out here on the porch, taking in the scene of my grandparents’ farmland before me. The lead in the pencil I’ve been writing with all evening is starting to dull, but I press a little harder to get the last few sentences written down into my journal. 

December 29, 2030

Day five back at Pap and Gran’s farm. We didn’t do much today except peel some potatoes and boil chicken for broth. Gran’s state has deteriorated since we made it back here. Paps and I truly thought that maybe bringing her back to her home would make her feel better, but she’s only gotten worse. Part of me thinks that she might have just wanted to find her peace here, in her own home, in her own surroundings before she decides it’s okay to let go. Awful of me to think that, isn’t it?

I miss my Mom. And I miss my dad, and I really, really miss my brother. Having nearly no time to mourn them has truly put me in a weird headspace, I don’t know how I’m making it day to day. Sometimes I think back to that fear I felt when I first realized I had to get the hell out of my house when I found the faultline in my foundation, that feeling that it could all come crashing down on me at any second, burying me in walls and furniture and drywall to the point I can’t breathe… That’s what this feels like. Like I’m standing in my basement again, just waiting for the whole thing to crush me. 

The only thing that is keeping me going is Paps and Gran. And the fact that if I stop, then they stop. And Gran is already slowing to a crawl. 

I pull out my pocket knife from my pants, opening the blade and sharpening the graphite in my pencil a bit before licking the tip, and getting back to work. 

I’ve lost nearly 16 pounds, and my hair feels so thin. I can feel my muscles starting to wear out, and the joints of my bones are beginning to ache. Lack of nourishment, I guess. But I don’t let it stop me, and neither does Paps. We are still getting up at the crack of dawn every single morning to look for roaming wildlife to catch. Thankfully we were able to get our hands on six chickens, a rooster, a goat, and the neighbor’s old Blue Heeler, Hank. Hank sits by my Gran’s side day in and day out… I think he remembers that she used to throw him scraps out into the front yard.

The strangest thing happened to me yesterday, and I feel embarrassed to even admit it in this stupid journal. 

For the first time in months, I got the overwhelming urge to want to fuck. 

I wish I could write that in invisible ink like we used to do in text messages, yikes. But, I guess I have to realize that I am still a living, breathing woman who still goes through her monthly cycles, and still possesses the urges associated with it all. God, I  fucking laughed out loud at myself. I haven’t seen another man close to my own age since we left Nashville and I saw a group of young people throwing a cinder block through the front glass of a coffee shop. For fucks sake I’m so embarrassed. 

But I actually even dreamed about it last night. Real, true, romping sex in some strange place… it was so real that I woke up in a cold sweat with my heartbeat between my legs. Shit. I don’t even know who it was with, but that part didn’t matter. I used to love those pointless, carnal dreams that made you blush in your sleep. But damn, now? That’s as close as I’m probably ever gonna get. 

I had to spend the rest of the day fighting the flashbacks while spending time with my literal grandparents. Ignoring the fact that I used to daydream about it, then make a phone call to whoever, and make it happen. It used to be so easy. Shit, I miss random hookups. Fucking hell. 

Now I’m spending my days collecting freshly laid eggs before a pack of wild dogs come and kill my chickens. Goddamnit.

ANYWAYS. 

Tomorrow is my 33rd birthday. And I don’t even care. It feels silly to even think that even though the world is pushing me off the literal land I stand on, I still have to age. I still have to deal with being a human. And mourn the loss of my family. What the fuck. Just lost the last of my immediate kin, I’m digging up last season’s potatoes from the ground and nursing my sweet Gran as she lies in her bed in pain, and I’m having sex dreams. Really, really fucking good sex dreams. If I could roll my eyes with paper and pencil, I’d be doing it right now. The human experience is so fuc

My thought process is stopped when I hear the sound of something I haven’t heard in literal days. Weeks? I don’t know… But I hear it, the faint sound of a tune and a melody coming through an old, staticy speaker. I close my pencil into my journal and stand, realizing I’d been sitting outside for a while now as the stars had become bright and the moon sat high in the sky. 

My brow furrows as I listen harder. It’s Billie Holiday. I push the front door open and enter the warm house, firstly noticing the crackling fire that Paps had kept burning all day. I then saw him standing in the dimly lit corner, fiddling around with his old vinyl records and adjusting the volume of the music. The wall behind him is stuffed full of records, floor to ceiling and two shelves wide… all full of the music he filled mine and James’ lives with since the time we could walk. He’d been collecting his entire life.  Truly, I owe my love of music to him. 

“Paps…” I say softly as I enter the living room. 

“Hey youngin’, sorry if I disturbed ya…” he said, puffing some pipe tobacco smoke up into the air. I used to tell him he needed to quit, but now… what’s the use?

“You didn’t, Paps.”

“I sorta… forgot that music exists,” he chuckled, opening the cover of a Bill Monroe album and inspecting the inside.

I place my hand on his back, giving him a few pats as I lay my head against his shoulder, watching the record spin on his antique hand-crank phonograph. “I kinda did too, actually,” I reply, admitting it to myself. “What made you pick Lady Day?”

He shrugs. “Not sure. Always loved her voice, hated it when she passed. She left one hell of a legacy, though, huh? Your Gran sure loved her, that’s for sure,” he mumbles on, looking back to the daybed we had set up for Gran in the living room so she could be closer to the heat of the fireplace. 

“Love her, Don. Not loved. I ain’t dead yet,” we both hear Gran stir from under her blankets. The both of us erupted in a fit of laughter at her unbridled and filterless sense of humor. 

“Hell’s fire, Jane. Didn’t think you’d be able to hear us,” my Paps laughs as he places the cover back down on the table and goes to join her at her side. I follow behind. “Did we wake you?”

“You did, but that’s okay. No better way to be woken up from a dreamless sleep than by some pretty music,” she says, propping herself up on her pillows. She still has so much strength, and though she’s weakening by the day, I’m still astounded by her ability to get up and even walk herself to the restroom. “And!” she boasts with her crooked finger in the air. “No way I wanted to miss my favorite granddaughter’s birthday when the clock strikes twelve,” she adds with a reassuring nod. 

“Gran, you don’t need to stay up this late! It’s almost midnight now, go back to sleep,” I push her, not wanting to miss one second of any rest she can get, while also wishing that she and Paps could sit up and reminisce with me until the sun comes up. I’d give anything to have just one more hour with my parents and James.

“Oh, child, I’m fine!” she pushes my hands away, pulling herself back up. “You’ve gained another year. This day and age, that means something, you know?” Her voice is weak, but she still sounds like herself, her southern drawl coming out to play as she tries to fluff the pillows behind her. 

I nod in understanding. “If you say you want to stay up, we’ll stay up!” 

There really isn’t such a thing as a true bedtime, anymore. I’m up at strange hours of the night, take many naps throughout the day… time doesn’t matter, aside from the rooster reminding us of when the sun is about to come up every morning. 

But we still set the clock, and we’ll change the batteries. The Grandfather clock against the back wall reminds us of each hour, every day. And how lucky we still are to have each and every one, no matter how long they drag us on. 

Gran taps her fingers along to ‘Love Me or Leave Me’ as Paps sings quietly along, and I place a few new logs onto the fire to keep it burning. The smell of this house has always stuck out to me– matured wood, the scent of the barn wafting through the cracked windows, the Murphy’s Oil Soap that Paps was always obsessed with cleaning the floors with… it’s all still stuck here, unmoving in time. Just like the photos on the walls, the dinnerware filling the shelves, and the wall that’s covered in pencil markings and dates, marking mine, James’, and my father’s height growth over the years. 

It’s all still here, exactly where they left it. Exactly where they carved things into the load-bearing beam that runs the span of the house. The wearing in the wood of the floor where Gran stood for fifty some odd years in front of the stove cooking meals. The screen door that hangs haphazardly on the front door, the screen ripped and aging as it served its purpose keeping the flies out of the house for however many summers.

A time capsule. And by god, were the three of us overjoyed when we pulled up and found it not sitting at the bottom of a sinkhole.

“Have you got any Sinatra?” my Gran asks, pulling me from my deep-thought trance as the Billie record spins now, without any sound. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Paps agrees as he stands to replace the record, knowing that he’d give my Gran anything she could ever ask for, just like he always had. 

He makes his way back over to his setup and finds exactly what he’s looking for, switching the vinyl out and putting the needle back down. Gran tilts her head back onto her pillows as she hears Frank’s voice come over the crackly violin sounds. 

“Ol’ Blue Eyes,” she mutters before sitting back up and grabbing at my hands. “You know, Y/N, I didn’t always love music, it was your grandfather’s doin’ that got me to fall in love with it.” Much like he did for me, actually. “Of course I’d go to the dances at the school and I knew a few songs here and there, but it was when I met him that I truly found my love and appreciation for it.”

“He’s had that effect on us both, then, hasn’t he!” I jest, smiling and squeezing at her frail hands. We both glance at him still standing by his collection, eyeing the spines of the covers and pulling them out to look over. I truly did owe a lot to him, he taught me more about artists than I could have ever taught myself. Older ones, especially. He knew the stories that were never recorded in interviews and tabloids. He knew, because he kept them all in the back of his mind as if they were his own family stories.

“That man got me to follow the Dead around for nearly six months before I told him he’d better get me back to Tennessee so I could have me a garden,” she went on, making my face warm with a grin. I’d heard the story a hundred times before, but I’d sit and listen to it a hundred times more, if time would let me.

“Oh, shoot, Jane. We had a good time,” Paps interrupted, scowling at her as he puffed his pipe. 

“Didn’t say we didn’t, Don!” she pokes back, and I can tell they’re about to get into one of their little playful spats. “Your grandfather and I tried LSD for the very first time while we sat in a drum circle after a Dead show in Kansas City,” she said, her eyes wide as she still held my hands. 

Now that, they’ve never shared before. 

“Gran!” I exclaim, truly surprised.

“Now Jane!” Paps barks from his place.

“What?!” she replies, shrugging her bony shoulders. “It was a damned good time and I can honestly say I came back a changed woman. Nothing wrong with that, now is there? I’ve lived one hell of a life…” she trails off, earning a scoff from Paps as he waves her off. “There should be nothing stopping you from still living your life, Y/N. Do you hear me? The Earth might swallow us up, but that doesn’t mean you can’t keep running, keep on living, you understand, child?” she asks, moving her cold hands to cup my cheeks.

“‘Course I do, Gran. I promise,” I relent, and I envy her ability to speak to me with this regard, knowing that the end of her life is near.

“Good,” she pats the side of my face. “Don, how about a little acoustic for a dying old woman?”

Paps drops his shoulders. “Now Jane, do ya have to keep talkin’ that mess, or am I gonna have to make you?” he teases.

I laugh and stand to go into the kitchen as Paps makes his way over to the corner, plucking his old acoustic from its place. I re-wet Gran’s cloth in the icy water, wringing out the dripping water and returning to place it back over her chest. 

Paps sits beside us on the daybed, the smoke rising from his pipe as he plucks at his strings, his feeble but strong hands re-tuning them to where it sounds best. My grandfather is, and was, a very handsome man. Strong and built like an ox. I can see why Gran followed him around chasing after the Dead for six months.

Finally he strums a perfect chord, raising his eyebrows at Gran as she smiles back at him. “Guess it’s a good thing I never got my hands on an electric, hm?” he says as he bites the end of his pipe. 

Neither Paps or I have shown any signs of the rash, at all. No where. And neither of us could fathom why.

The two of us sit and listen to Paps play a plethora of familiar tunes, his fingers still agile enough to float over the strings and play little snippets of all of Gran’s favorites. I can feel Gran’s body relax as she listens to him, her mind probably floating through a million memories of watching him play over the years. He hums along a little as his eyes close on their own, listening to himself play. I swear I could sit here for days. 

After a few minutes, his fingers contort and play a little more harshly, strumming out a tune that hits a nerve buried so deep within me, I almost cry right there on the spot. His very own rendition of one of my favorite songs in the world, You’re the One. 

“Paps…” I murmur, almost whining.

“Hush, child, let me see if I can still pull through these chords,” he shushes me. And he does. I want to scorn him for bringing up the music that was made by my favorite band in the entire world. But then again, in later months, Greta had become one of his favorite bands, too. 

“Babe, ain’t no denyin’, that I got you in my head…” he sings to Gran, making her cover her face with her hands. He plays through about half of the song before he stumbles over a note or two, and decides his hands have gotten too tired. 

“How dare you, Paps. You know that struck a nerve…” I say, scowling at him. 

“Oh, quiet, now. You used to walk around the house singing their songs for days on end. Watch those silly videos of them, hell. How many shows did you go to?” he asks, truly schooling me on my own obsession with that band.

“Twenty-three,” I mutter under my breath. 

“How many?”

“Twenty-three! Okay?” I play along with him, the both of us knowing that he attended the last five of them with me. 

We’d traveled over to Kentucky for his first time seeing them live after I’d shown him a few of their songs. He was hooked after his first play of From the Fires, ripping the album cover from my hands to read along with the lyrics. After that we moved on to Anthem of the Peaceful Army, Garden’s Gate and so on, each play enrapturing my grandfather even more than the last. 

“These kids have some damned promise, that’s for sure. This is a sound I haven’t heard in ages… and their talent? Boy…” he’d said. I still remember the day I surprised him with tickets to his first show, watching him fall in just as much love with them as I was. Swaying along to their classics, singing along with the lyrics he’d learned to love. He learned their names, he learned their personalities a little. He even met a few of the friends I’d made along the way, flirting with them as we’d all stand in line before a show. 

It was Paps and Gran’s travels with the Grateful Dead that inspired me to follow Greta Van Fleet around on their tours. Not for six months straight, as I had to hold down my job, but nonetheless. Twenty-three shows I went to over the course of nine years. Strange Horizons all the way up to their last tour before the world shut down. I had tickets and plans to meet up with my group of friends for a show after Greta had gotten back from Greece, but, of course that never happened. 

Paps grew to love them just as much as I loved them. Love them. For so many years, they were my escape. My solid rock to land on as the headaches of daily life surrounded me. I made lifelong friends through them. Traveled to other countries to see them, with my friends by my side. I watched them grow into men, as I had grown into a woman right alongside them. Watched them evolve, grow, and retreat into silence before exploding back onto the scene with something brand new and fresh, roping me right back into their world. Obsessing over every little detail they fed us. Digging deeply into the meanings of songs, and discussing all the lore with my cohorts on social media. I can account many of my life’s milestones to at least one song of theirs. 

Now, when I find the world more quiet than it ever has been in my lifetime, I find myself reminiscing on those times, some of the best times of my life with that band, and my friends that felt more like family. I catch myself humming their songs, just trying to keep myself centered and rooted to the earth as it literally is falling apart beneath my feet. Greta was always my solid foundation, and even during the End of Days, they hold true to that assignment.

The grandfather clock finally decides to strike midnight, signaling my 33rd birthday.

“I’m sorry we can’t celebrate like we normally would, sweetheart,” Paps says as he continues lightly strumming.

“It’s okay, Paps. Just having the two of you still here with me is celebration, enough.” And I truly mean that. I watch as Gran’s sullen eyes fill with tears as she watches the two of us, and I know I’d give anything to keep the two of them alive as long as I possibly could. But her rash is worsening by the day, and Paps and I can tell that though she puts on a tough exterior, she’s suffering inside.

Gran had fallen back asleep peacefully to the sound of Paps’ acoustic, and we covered her up and threw another few logs onto the fire to last us a few more hours, at least. Paps kisses my forehead after he places his guitar back on its stand in the corner, wishing me a happy birthday as we both retreat to our beds.

+++

The next morning, I wake to myself shivering; Paps and I both must have slept through the night without waking up to tend to the fire. I stretch my muscles and rub my eyes, but I’m instantly startled  by the sound of someone coughing. I throw on my robe and slippers and rush to the living room, finding Gran sitting up in her bed, coughing terribly. Paps and I are by her side in seconds, asking her what she might need to get through the fit, but she just shakes her head. 

Her skin is cold and gray, and it looks as though her muscles are shaking uncontrollably. She’s almost completely covered in the rash, now.

“Do you want to get in the tub, Jane? Do you need to get in the water?” Paps begs of her, kneeling by the bedside. 

She shakes her head more. “No,” she chokes out. Her throat sounds scratchy and dry and we offer her water, but that, too, she rejects. Finally her coughing subsides and she relaxes back, and Paps and I share a knowing look. A look that we’ve both shared three times, when everyone else finally succumbed to the rash. 

This is so fucking unfair. Why don’t I have the rash?! Why can’t I take this pain away from her? Why am I not suffering, too?!

“I’m ok Don. I’m ok,” she mutters, her voice barely her own. 

We both sit there with her for hours, until the sun is noting midday. We hold her hands, caress her face, talk to her, tell her stories… anything to get her to pass with as much comfort as we can. She coughs, still, but each time she begs us to carry on with talking to her. I watch as my grandfather finally sheds a tear, wiping it free from his face as he sniffles through it. 

“Don’t you dare cry for me, Don,” Gran says. “We’ve had a beautiful life together. Beautiful… family,” she struggles to breathe. My chest feels heavy, too, with the overwhelming amount of sorrow it’s holding. I want to throw my fist into the wall, curse everything that has ever lived. I feel a rage building up in my stomach, one that is beginning to burn with so much fury that when it finally awakens, I’m not sure I’ll be able to contain it.

“I love you, I love you both…”

And with one small exhale, she ceases to breathe any more. 

We both allow ourselves time to weep at her bedside for a minute or two before I finally stand and open the windows, uncaring of how it will chill the house. I wanted to let her soul be free. 

+++

It took me about three hours to dig my grandmother’s grave, as the ground was hard from the cold and one shovel can only dig so fast. Hank the heeler was by my side the whole time, sitting and watching guard as I threw the shovels of dirt into a neat pile. I insisted Paps let me do it alone, and he spend a little bit of time with her to say his goodbyes.

 It was cathartic, really, putting my body through physical grunt work as I let the tears fall freely. I wept for her, for the rest of my family, for the heartbreak of my grandfather. But mostly, I cried for myself. I shouldn’t have, it felt selfish to, but I had hardly allowed myself any time to feel sorry for me. Fuck, a person can only take so much. My heart was already broken into a thousand pieces, but the numbness of the past few months had shielded my ability to listen to myself. My body somehow must have felt the need to get it out, so that I could put a brave face on for Paps. He’d need me to. So, as a rare bit of bright sunlight came down and scorched my arms, breaking through the freezing cold wind, I allowed myself to cry again.

It’s almost sunset, now, and Paps had wrapped Gran up in a few white sheets, topped with a pretty lace tablecloth that she had woven many years ago. It used to cover the dining room table, but it did seem fitting for it to be with her, now. 

I give Paps a sweet smile as I make my way into their bedroom, sitting on her old chest as I open the top drawer of her armoire. There, arranged still so neatly, was all of her expensive jewelry that she hardly ever wore. Gold bracelets, diamond rings, emerald-encrusted pieces… all if it is so precious, so valuable, and so completely worthless. 

I take a second to collect it all up and slip it into a canvas drawstring bag, making sure first to keep just one piece out for myself. She’d have wanted me to, I’m positive of it. 

A sterling silver ring topped with the prettiest piece of deep blue turquoise. Her grandmother had given it to her many years ago, and she only ever wore it to special occasions, but it fits perfectly on my middle finger. And if I wanted something to remember my grandmother by, it would most definitely be this. 

I go back into the living room and gently grab my grandmother’s cold, bruised hands, replacing each piece of precious jewelry onto her fingers and wrists wherever I can fit them, stacking them one on top of the other. 

“Should we add her books, Paps?” I manage to ask. 

He shakes his head solemnly. “No, might be best to keep things like that above ground…” 

Paps and I make our way out to the barn as dusk falls, and I light the few candles he has placed around on the shelves and tables. It’s dilapidated but in a good way; the walls and ceiling showing wear of many, many years of hard work. I watch as Paps grabs up one of the candles and walks to a swing door I’d never really noticed before, using some force to pull it open and propping it with a cut of a two-by-four. My eyes take a second to adjust to the darkness as he walks further inside the room, illuminating the space. There in the center of the small room is a pine box casket.

“Paps, what in the world? When did you…?” I breathe, walking closer to it. I notice that it has my grandmother’s name carved right in the top, the letters painted in black.

“About fifteen years ago, I’d say. Jane and I always said we wanted to be buried right here on the farm, when our times came. Guess we never told you kids about that. Your parents knew, a’course, but we never dreamed they’d go before us…” 

Paps pulls his blue handkerchief from his back pocket and wipes his nose, his eyes still dripping with remnant tears. 

“It looks really good, Paps. You did a great job,” I commend him, but he pays no mind. Instead he blows across it, relieving some of the old sawdust from its home on the lid. He pulls the top open and inspects it again, pulling a few pieces of straw from the inside. 

“Help me get it over to the site?” he asks, and I realize I’d never even asked him where he wanted me to dig the grave. I just picked the prettiest place that I could. Something tells me he would have picked the same place, too. “Under the willow?” he asks. 

Great minds.

“Under the willow.”

We lower the casket onto the wheelbarrow and roll it across the back yard and along the fenceline, right beside the weeping willow tree. It was Gran’s favorite place to come and lie in the grass with a book. Hank walks alongside us, his snout on guard for any wild packs that may be a threat to us. 

Together, we lower the pine box into the hole I’d dug, making sure it was level at the bottom. “Want me to go get her?” I ask. 

“I’ll get her,” he responds as he takes off back toward the house. The wind is whipping my hair across my face, now, as the stars are beginning to show themselves, and I can’t stop myself from crying again. This shouldn’t be happening. I shouldn’t be standing beside a grave I just dug, with a casket my grandfather built, watching his back walk across the tall grass to retrieve the body of the love of his life. This shouldn’t. Fucking. Be. Happening. 

In the moonlight, I finally see the figure of him coming back through the shadows with her in his arms. I silently thank the heavens above that he is a strong man, still yet, with more brute strength than any man his age should have. Just like James.

I help him lower her inside, but not before the both of us place kisses on either of her cheeks. I work to cover her back up with dirt as he stands behind, Hank begging his hand for a pet.

“You wanna say a few words?” I ask him as I throw the last shovelful of dirt on top, wiping a hand across my cold-sweat forehead. 

He takes a quick, chopped breath. “Sixty-two years wasn’t nearly enough with you, sweetheart. Won’t ever be enough. Thank you for every single laugh, every single tear, every single argument and happy moment. Thank you for our beautiful children, and grandchildren, and thank you for filling my heart with more joy than any man should have the privilege of havin’. You sure made my life worth livin’. Give ‘em hell up there in heaven, Janie. I know ya will. I love ya to the moon.” He sniffles again as he gives in to Hank’s requests, finally leaning down and wrapping a strong arm around the dog. I sidestep and wrap my arm around him, too, and we stand there in the wind until we can’t stand any more.

JAKE

“RRRUHHHHH!” I growl loudly as I wake up from unconsciousness in a full-on panic. My eyes are shifty and dry as I work to sit myself up quickly, my hands still bound at my back. The tape is gone from my mouth now, though. 

It’s dark, and it's cold, but I’m indoors. I just can’t fucking see a god damned thing. 

“Hey! Help!! Can anyone hear me?!” I yell, my voice echoing hard off the walls that surround me. My voice feels dry and knotted in my throat as I try to swallow what little moisture I have in my mouth. When I get no response, I crack my neck sideways as pain sets in over my body, and not just from my arms being bound. I feel as though my legs have been hit with something hard, and my back feels like it’s bruised and sore. What the fuck? What the fuck!

“Heyyyyy! Somebody come and fucking talk to me! What do you want?!” I yell again, my heart rate flying as reality sets in that I’ve been kidnapped from the cabin. Alone. 

The last thing I remember is being alone in the back of that truck, rolling around as whoever was driving had little care for it’s cargo in the back. Maybe that’s why I feel bruised and beaten. Or maybe it’s not. 

Yes, alone. In the truck… six intruders… weapons… it’s all coming back now, in little spurts of memory. Where is everyone else? Where is my family? When was I brought in here? I feel bile rising in my throat as I feel a panic attack setting in, and I grind my hands against one another so as to try and free them from their ties. But it’s no use, of course. It only digs them into my skin more. 

I sit in silence listening to only the sounds of my uneven breathing, trying to calm myself and make a plan of action. No time to fall into fear, Jake. 

I maneuver my body around to get to the walls, standing on my sore legs to turn and let my hands run along them. There’s nothing there– no windows, no chairs or furniture. Just a box. I diligently run my hands along every one. Four walls. With nothing. Nothing but– 

A door. 

I turn my body to try and find a doorknob or whatever to open it, and when my hand finally grasps the spherical knob, I realize that the mother fucker is locked. Of course. I turn and slam my shoulder into it a few times to see if I can pry it, but it’s no use. “Hey! You son of a bitch! Let me out of here!” I yell again, getting mad, now. 

“Quiet, Jacob,” a voice I do not recognize suddenly fills the room. My stomach drops. 

I open my mouth to reply, but nothing really comes to mind. The voice is male, but distorted. Quiet? QUIET? 

“Who the fuck are you? Open this door and come and talk to me!” I yell again, my body suddenly feeling like my blood is going to pulse from every orifice of my body. 

There is a long pause. 

“I said quiet, Jacob,” it repeats. 

I grit my teeth. This voice is really pissing me off. 

“I’ll be quiet when you come in here and fucking show your face!” I yell even louder this time.

There is another long pause, and finally, I hear the metallic screeching of the heavy door opening. I waste no time in trying to push through it, relying on only my hearing to know what is going on, just as I had back at the cabin. Everything is so fucking dark.

But I get nowhere. I’m stopped by my body running into two stern and sturdy men again, pushing back further into the echoey room. I nearly lose my footing, but I press forward again, determined to get through that fucking door. But they stop me again, thrashing my body back so hard I hit one of the walls. It nearly knocks the breath from me, but I catch it. “Who are you? What do you want? I want to see my fam–”

“It’d really do you good to stay fucking quiet, like we told you to.” Suddenly I feel a gloved hand cupping across my mouth, stopping me from speaking. The man’s face is close to mine, whispering in my ear as he pins me back against the wall with his other arm. “Do you understand? Can you keep your voice down?” It asks, a little more lax. 

After a few seconds, I nod, but my mind doesn’t have the time to process another plan. Maybe if I cooperate, they’ll let me the fuck go. His hand slowly falls from my mouth, and I stay quiet, nothing filling the room now but my haggard and nervous breathing, again. “Who are you,” I whisper, my tone demanding. 

I notice that the second man must be standing behind the one still holding me to the wall, hearing him huff a laugh under his breath. How can they fucking see me? 

“Let’s just say that if you play your cards right, we’ll be your new best friends,” the man says as he releases my chest, allowing me to breathe. I hear the tear of velcro twice, realizing he must be taking his gloves off. 

“I don’t need any more fucking friends. I have plenty back at home,” I bark, still gritting my teeth as I stay at a quieter level. 

They laugh again. “Home? You mean the cabin you were holed up in? Barely surviving?” the man behind the first asks sarcastically. 

“Home is where my family is, actually,” I bite.

“Aww, isn’t that cute,” they laugh at me again as I hear that they’re both standing, now. I should try and run again, right? But it might get me knocked unconscious again. Maybe not. Not yet. 

“Little Jake Kiszka, maybe you really do have the heart of gold everyone says you have,” the first one says. “Maybe being rich and famous didn’t get to you, after all.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about? Who are you? How do you know my name?” I ask. 

They both scoff again. “You’re fairly fucking famous, my guy. Lots of people know your name,” the second one blurts. My guy? Who–

“Well it’s pretty convenient that I don’t know yours, seeing as how you have me fucking tied up in a pitch black room. Can we cut the shit? Or am I gonna have to try and run again?” I ask, completely over this game. Suddenly, I don’t feel very threatened. 

“You won’t get very far if you do, Jake,” the first one whispers, and I hear his boots step closer to me again, and his breath hot on my face. “Listen to me, and listen closely, okay? Are you listening?”

“Yeah, fuck, I’m listening,” I say.

“We told you to stay quiet for a reason. You’ve been captured by an outfit that’s been around for a long, long time. But you weren’t caught for just any reason,” he goes on, barely audible. 

“What does that mean? What reason?” I ask. 

“They’ve got reason to believe that you know.”

“Know what?” I ask, confused. 

“Why the fucking world ended. Or actually, how. Your brothers, you all wrote about this, didn’t you? In your music?” he goes on, and if I wasn’t confused before, I sure as shit am now. 

“What?!” I squeal, almost laughing. “You’ve got to be kidding me…”

“Hmm-mm. They aren’t kidding. Does it feel like they’re kidding right now? No.”

“Why do you keep saying they? You are the one that’s got me locked up, right now,” I retort. 

“Because we’re pretending,” suddenly the other one is in my ear. “They think we work for them. The brunt work. The dirty jobs…. Like kidnapping you,” he says. 

“Listen Jake,” the other interrupts. “We know you, we know who you are. We were… we were fans of your band, back then. But these people, the ones who hired us, they trust us. And they have worse plans for you than holding you in a dark metal box with your hands tied…”

“Why me? Why did they take me?” I ask. 

“Your music, your songs… you fucking predicted more about all this than you think you did,” the other explains. 

Josh’s dreams. 

“We didn’t predict shit, we were just writing fucking songs, we didn’t–”

“All of it is real, Jake,” the first whispers, his lips brushing my hair. “The stories you told, the worlds you built… all of it exists, and has existed for a long time.”

“I don’t get it,” I say, blinking my eyes in the darkness. 

“The lyrics you wrote about, the Garden you all dreamt up… It exists. In a complete other realm.”

I damn near laugh in their faces. “You’ve got to be kidding me, right? This is a joke?”

They stay quiet for a beat. “No jokes here, Jake. Just know that more is happening than you could ever even fathom. It’s not just the end of the world here. It’s the end of the world there, too. Well, it’s about to be, if the battle is lost,” the second says. 

“You’re both insane, and I’m in on some kind of prank. This is all a joke!” I argue. “We didn’t create that world...”

“No, you didn’t. But you knew about it. You wrote songs about it, didn’t you? You told tales of a Battle, wrote songs about war and peace, lyrics about the water rising, and the air so thin…”

My head is spinning. I’m getting a headache. And I could really use a fucking cigarette.

“Yeah, global fucking warming, who didn’t know about that?” I defend. 

They both laugh under their breath. “Let’s just say you guys literally wrote the time and space of another world as if you’d read their history books. And, lived there alongside them.” 

There’s no fucking way. This is absolutely ridiculous. 

“What do you mean if the battle is lost?” I ask, the question coming from my mere curiosity. 

The second crouches down in front of me again, from what I can tell. “Our world here has already begun to end, right? Technology itself is murdering us by the boatloads. The thing we created. It’s omnipresence became too much for earth to handle, started to suck away at her resources and poison her. Poison her natural way of ebb and flow. So she said fuck you humans, I don’t need you. You shall all suffer my wrath, and I’ll use the poison that you created to kill you,” his voice had gotten a little dramatic, as if he was reading a romantic tragedy. 

“Okay Shakespeare, we get it,” the first says, and I can’t help but laugh a little. “Here’s the thing… the other realm is suffering, too. What happens on earth is mirrored in that realm, but the mirror isn’t a clear reflection. It’s more of a…”

“Cloudy and messy shadow of what happens in our realm,” the other says. 

“Yeah, actually,” the first agrees. “It happens here, it happens there, just not the exact same way. So their world is suffering, too. But they’re going to try and stop it.”

“How are they going to do that?” I ask.

“...Have you not figured that out yet, man? Don’t you think that uh— capturing a few guys who have predicted it all to a tee so far and using them for information on what’s to come next wouldn’t be a nice and easy route for them?”

“You’re shitting me, right?” I say blankly. “You kidnapped me because they think I know what’s going to happen next after the world ends?”

“Mm, kind of. You’ve gotten it all right, so far.”

No, Josh has. Apparently.

“That and… a pretty good other reason,” the first mumbles. 

“What other reason?”

“You don’t have any signs of the rash yet, do you?” the second inquires, throwing me off. How would he know that?

“No… but what’s that have to do with all of this?” I say, my mind spinning. 

“You’re an immune. Just like us,” the second says with a bit of pride in his voice. 

“An immune? How the fuck do we know that we just haven’t gotten it yet?” I press. 

“You’ve seen how fast that shit kills people,” the first scoffs. “Don’t you think you would have at least shown a little bit of a sign of it, by now?” 

He’s right. It’s been months since the first sign of the rash, killed more people than I’d like to discuss. And quickly, too. But my whole family… none of us have shown signs…how are we all so lucky?

“Maybe the earth decided that she’d keep a few of us, the ones who aren’t fucking assholes,” the second barks, earning what sounds like a slap to the chest from the first. 

“I don’t think that’s how it worked, idiot,” he says. “Anyways, we’ve already spent too much time in here with you, Jake. But listen. Remember we’re all pretending. They’re going to push you, they’re going to make us push you. But we want you to know we’re on your team, even if we act like we’re not. They’re out collecting immunes as we speak, trying to put everyone into some type of commune to protect the longevity of mankind. But you’re special, because they think you know. They’re special because they’re immune. You following me?”

“When they kidnap more immunes they’ll group me with them, but treat me differently because they think I can help them, got it,” I say, catching on fairly easily, for some reason. 

“Bingo,” the second clicks his tongue. 

“Do the people who hired you live in the other realm, too? Like, why do they care?” I ask, feeling like I just read the plot of a fantasy novel.

“Think of it like a family intertwined between both worlds. They’re able to bounce back and forth, but they all take up space in both places. One realm can’t live without the other. That’s why they’re trying to stop the end of their world there, so they have somewhere to be if our’s ceases to exist,” the first explains. 

“That’s fucking confusing,” I whisper. “If ours ceases to exist, one can’t exist without the other. Isn’t Earth already too far gone?” 

“Maybe her inhabitants are almost wiped, but as a planet, she’s still got a long way to go before rejoining the cosmos. If the other realm is saved, it could power Earth enough to stop her eradication. Plus we have immunes. Earth won’t completely die, she’s just trying to do a hard restart, if that makes sense,” the second one adds. “She’s sick, and she’s trying to make herself healthy again.”

I let out a huff as I try and wrap my head around the dystopian film I’m apparently a part of now. Half of me thinks these guys are lying to me. Playing games to distract me. But then again, why would they be wasting their time?

“Play dumb, Jake. Pretend you don’t know a goddamn thing. Especially when they start to question you about what you guys wrote in this last album,” the first says, standing to his feet and putting his gloves back on, from what I can tell. “This isn’t gonna last forever, we’re going to put a stop to this.”

“You are? How?” I ask, pulling hard on the ties around my wrists. 

“We are. With your help,” the second whispers. “There’s a whole group of us who plan on breaking free of this shit, we’ve just got to trust each other that we can run. Gather up the other immunes once they’re captured and create our own destinies.”

“But, if we don’t go along with them, won’t Earth completely shit out on us? If their realm dies too?” I ask. 

“Catching on quickly, Jake. I’m impressed,” the first whispers. “If we recreate our own line of mankind from the immunes, everything will be okay. We just want to do it out from underneath the thumb of these selfish motherfuckers. We can do it on our own.”

The two of them turn on their heels and start to walk toward the door again, leaving me sitting in the floor. “Hey, where is my family?” I ask. 

“They were assigned elsewhere. Separated all of you, we don’t know where they ended up. Sorry, man,” the second says. And within seconds they’re both gone, and I’m alone, yet again.

Y/N

I trudge back inside the house now under the cover of darkness, after having spent a few minutes outside trying to breathe and calm myself. Paps has lit a few candles inside, and I can see the warm glow of them through the windows making the house look like a jack-o-lantern. I smile a little at the thought. As I push the door open and lock it behind me, I turn and notice he’s stood by the kitchen table, a few more candles lit across it. There in front of him are two bowls of potato soup. 

“Paps, this is so nice of you,” I mumble as I hang my afghan on the back of a chair. “I thought you said you weren’t up for eating tonight?” 

“Your Gran would have been ticked if she knew we were too upset to feed ourselves, you know that’s a fact,” he says, pulling my chair out for me. I take a seat and I can smell the herbs he’s put into the soup.

“You’re right…” I agree. “She wouldn’t have been happy with us at all.”

“Plus, figure you could pretend one of these candles is on a birthday cake, and blow it out. Since we didn’t get to celebrate you the right way,” he adds as he takes his own seat. 

“I think I could do that,” I say, picking up my spoon to dig in. “Thank you Paps, you’re really too good to me.”

“We’re all we’ve got, sweetheart.”

As we eat, I watch as Paps’ hands seem weaker now, and how they shake a little as he brings his spoon to his mouth. He’s done an excellent job on the soup, but we both know we’re choking it down, both of our stomachs too wrought with nerves and heartbreak to enjoy it like we should. 

As we clean our bowls, he pushes one of the candles toward me, holding his hand out to motion for me to blow. The candle is old and burned through almost all the wax, but it still smells of pumpkin and apple pie. “Don’t forget to make a wish, sweetheart. And make it a good one,” he says, giving me a sweet wink from behind his glasses. 

I take a deep breath and wrack my brain, feeling like making a wish right now is selfish. Normally, I’d wish for a happy next year, health and fortune for my family, or even for the next man that walks into my life to be the right one. 

But all of that feels stupid now, pointless to request of the universe. 

Next year isn’t even promised. 

Over half of my family is gone. 

And no man is destined to walk into my life to better it in the least, let alone offer me kinship of any kind. 

So instead I wish for Paps to stay as healthy as possible for as long as possible, and that the universe bestows good things upon us both. Because like he said, we’re all we’ve got. 

+++

After I’ve cleaned the dishes and tidied the kitchen, I’m stopped in my tracks from the same sound I heard coming through the walls last night– the sound of quiet, staticy music. 

I find Paps with his record player again, cranking the handle on the side as the sound begins to spill from the horn. For a second, I’m happy that he’d kept this old thing, knowing that without it, we wouldn’t be able to hear music at all, probably ever again. 

I step up beside him and watch it spin, listening to “Lovin’ You More Every Day” by Etta James drift into the air. I know that Gran loved this one, too. It was one of the songs they danced to at their wedding. 

So I take his hand in mine, pulling him to stand with me on the old oriental rug in the middle of the room. I begin to sway around as he gently places his hand on my back, swaying right along with me. We’re dancing a little too slowly for the speed of the song, but neither of us care. We’re just enjoying our time, wishing that Gran was here to clap for us after the song ends. But as it comes to a close, we’re met again with static, waiting silently for the first note of the next song. 

“You’re a bit too big now to stand on my feet,” he says through a stiff smile. 

“Maybe so,” I giggle. “But it was your training that got rid of my two left feet…gave me a sense of some rhythm…” I grin. 

He smiles again as he sniffles through some more tears. “I’m sorry I won’t be there to dance with you at your own wedding, sweetheart,” he mumbles as he pulls me close, and my heart shatters into a million pieces. 

“Now Paps, don’t talk like that…” I argue. “Lord knows I’m not gonna find a man who can dance better than you, anyway.”

I hear a chuckle run through his chest. “May be, sweetheart. May be.”

We sway along to a few more songs before we’re both yawning. “Believe I’m gonna hit the hay,” he says solemnly, patting me on the head a few times before making his way to throw a few more logs onto the fire. 

“Me too, I’ll see you in the morning?” I ask, realizing that this will be the first night in over sixty years that he is going to sleep knowing he won’t wake up to the love of his life. 

“When the rooster crows, my sweet. Love you.”

“I love you, Paps,” I say as we part ways, drifting off to our respective rooms. 

I’m thankful the weather isn’t too horrendous tonight as I snuggle into my bed, pulling the covers onto my chest. I relax, but leave my candle lit, staring up at the ceiling and recounting the day. The look on Gran’s face as she finally met peace, no longer feeling the wrenching burn of the rash that had enveloped her body. Poor Paps. I can’t even imagine what he’s feeling, right now. 

I grab my journal back up and flip to the page I’d left off on, realizing I’d stopped in the middle of a thought. Instead of finishing it, I start a new one. 

I write about Gran’s passing, how and where we buried her, how I adorned her hands and wrists with all her old jewelry, and how Paps had made me a special birthday supper. I try to be as detailed as possible, leaving nothing out as I let my hand flow from print to cursive. My eyes begin to get heavy as the candle light flickers, and I realize just how exhausted I am. How mentally and physically drained I’ve become, simply from trying my best to stay alive. 

My eyes close a little, drifting down onto my forearm that’s covered in tattoos. My dad hated them, but Paps and Gran always told me they were an expression of my life at the time, like a roadmap of all of the things I loved, when I loved them. Keepsakes I’ll never part with. I always thought it strange, that coming from grandparents from an era of humans who normally found tattoos distasteful, but. 

But they were right. I have over twenty tattoos, but my forearm is dedicated to the band that I knew and loved so much, and who brought me some of the happiest times of my life.

The first one sits right in the crook of my elbow, a simple sun and crescent moon that I got right after I fell in love with From the Fires. Then words, right below that, reading ‘In an age of darkness, light appears’ in small font, wrapping all the way around my arm. Under that, a swirling symbol that resembles a radar, 13 lines that make an almost complete circle to commemorate the song that reminds me to step back into the natural world. Beneath that, a sword and an arrow, parallel with one another. And lastly, a symbol that truly represented their fifth album, lines shaped into what looks like a bird in flight. 

I never got to get a tattoo from this last album. And honestly, the darkness of the theme of it made choosing what I would have gotten a little difficult, anyway. 

I run my hand over the dark black ink and my mind begins to sleepily drift. I wonder what my friends are doing right now…are they alive? Are they sad, too? Are they still clinging to the good times we shared to keep their minds from falling into the deep depths of solitude?

My fingers stop over the Age of Machine tattoo, the little ridges of the skinny lines still rigid on my skin. I think about how much this tattoo reminded me to unplug and drown myself in nature every chance I got. How that song truly motivated me to do the exact opposite of letting myself be pulled into the false world of social media, and spend my time in my garden, or swept up in a book. Strange, now… thinking about how it made me feel when I listened. Haunted, dizzy, and uneasy. Scared, almost, but cautious. Ominous and anxious, but in the most peaceful way. Now I’m glad of the inspiration it gave me. Maybe that’s why I haven’t gotten the rash. It’s almost like that song was warning us of what was to come…

What are the men who wrote this music doing right now? Are they okay, too? My heart wrenches in a different way than it has, yet. Yearning to know of the state of people I had never met, yet worried about the wellbeing of for so many years of my life. “Silly,” I whisper to myself. But, it’s not silly. It’s just the heart they helped me find within myself to care about other people so deeply.

I close my pencil into my book again as I blow out my candle, thinking of all the nights I went to sleep excited to wake up before the sun and double check the luggage I’d packed, grabbing a quick coffee before I hit the road to travel to god knows where to see my friends and my favorite band again. Carefree, and careless. Living my life the way I wanted to, choosing the road ahead to achieve that happiness I’d always chased when it came to hearing their music live. Life unchained, the way Gran lived hers. 

+++

Just as my body is relaxing into a well-deserved sleep, I’m awoken by a loud rumble, a deafening sound so deep that I feel it in my bones. I shoot up in bed, realizing that the bed below me is shaking, vibrating. I pull the covers back quickly, rushing down the hall to find Paps already coming toward me with his candle in hand. 

“What’s going on?!” I yell above the loud rumbles. 

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” he yells back, and we both make our way to the large picture window in the living room. The moonlight illuminates the hillside of the farm, revealing a giant faultline that reaches from one side of the field all the way to the next. 

“Shit,” Paps mutters as I feel panic setting into my gut. “Faultline.”

“What’s that mean?! Paps, what is it?” I ask in succession, watching as the crack as wide as a river is eating up the ground.

“Probably another sink hole. Or one is going to happen nearby, I’d say,” he barks as he turns and rushes back to his room. “We’ve got to go. We’ve got to run,” he hollers. 

What?! Run?? We can’t run! 

“Paps, but the house! We’re alread–”

“Get your backpack. Get dressed, hurry! We’ve got to get away from it!” he commands, his voice booming. The house begins shaking again as I run to my room, throwing on my pants, jacket, and boots, and tossing my heavy emergency backpack over my shoulders. I make sure to secure my toboggan onto my head before stuffing my journal into the free pocket of my backpack, rushing back out into the living room to find Paps ready and waiting. 

I hear plates and dishes falling from the shelves of the kitchen, and books falling off the shelves of the living room. It’s just like an earthquake, except I had watched a crevice form in the ground, right before my eyes. My hands are shaking, and I am already broken out in a cold, panicked sweat.  We rush to the truck, throwing our things into the bed as we climb inside. 

“Hank! Where’s Hank?!” I yell, looking around for him. 

“Leave him, we’ve got to go,” Paps says as he turns the key in the ignition, hearing the engine purr to life for just a second, before shutting right back off. He tries again, pumping the fuel pedal to get the block to heat and the glow plugs to light. “Fuck, fuck!! Come on, baby! Don’t do this!” he yells, trying to coax the machine. But it’s to no avail. The battery has died.

We open the doors and clamber to grab our bags again, realizing that on foot is our only means of escaping the growing faultline. We take off rushing down the dirt road, still hearing the deep rumble of the ground separating behind us. I wish I could describe the sound, a noise unlike anything I’ve ever heard before. The cracking and snapping of deep roots, the crashing of trees, a low bellowing sound so deep that it sounds like it came from hell, itself. Unreal. And utterly fucking terrifying. 

My legs carry me, and luckily so do Paps’, straight down the long driveway and back onto the main road. I hear the wood of the house start to creak, and more wooden-sounding bangs. Fuck. Please, not the house… 

“Should we go to the woods?” I pant, knowing that Paps is just as out of breath as I am. 

“No, to the knoll,” he points, panting too as he motions toward the top of a high hill. When we finally make it there, we stop, taking a breather as now it feels as though we’re far enough from the field to get a better view of everything that lies beneath. And there, right in the center of the field is another sinkhole, giant and deep and dark with half the farm swallowed up in it. 

Luckily, the house is untouched.

“How on God’s green Earth…” Paps breathes as he lets his hands fall to his knees, trying to catch his breath as the two of us look down on the scene in front of us. Like it was straight from a horror film. 

“Had to of been Gran. She wouldn’t let the devil himself take her home, if it was the last thing she did,” I say, earning a breathy laugh from Paps. 

“You’re goddamn right, sweetheart. You’re goddamn right,” he says, finally catching his breath. “We need to run, we’re pretty close to this thing, still.” We take off again, rushing back down the road as we still hear the ground shaking below us. We hear trees falling in the distance, and we begin running again. I’m truly thankful for Paps’ stamina and heart right now, his legs getting him to safety even at his age. 

“Keep going, Paps, not much further,” I encourage him, just in case he needs it. “We’re okay, we’re okay…”

Suddenly, I see a set of headlights in the distance, barreling down the road towards us in a cloud of dust. When it finally approaches, I flag it down until it stops beside us. An old man is sitting in the driver’s seat, his face just as panicked as ours. “Hop in! Hop in!” he says, and we listen. Paps and I rush to the passenger side and slide into the cab, the man already hitting the gas before Paps can even shut the door all the way. 

“You’ve got to turn around!” I say, “There are sinkholes this way!”

He turns the wheel harshly, and I’m glad he listens to me. We rush back the opposite way, zooming down the road so fast I can hardly fathom what’s happening. Pure panic. 

“We’re alright, Paps, we made it out,” I try and calm him, reaching for my canteen of fresh water and offering it to him as he catches his breath. 

Suddenly we’re being thrust forward as the man steps on the brake, and I’m close to cursing him before I notice he’s stopped before another faultline in the road. “My god…” the man says, opening his truck door and climbing out. 

“No, no… what are you doing?!” I yell, wondering why in the hell this man is getting out of our escape vehicle and walking towards the crack in the ground. I watch as he steps closer to it, inching his steps as he peers down over the edge. “Is he insane?! Are you insane? Please, come back!!” I scream, but he doesn’t listen. The ground shakes again, throwing the man off balance as it makes him stumble, swallowing him right up into it. 

“Oh my god!!” I yell as Paps lets out a guttural scream. My hand covers my mouth as I yell in disbelief, watching as the man is there one second, and gone the next. 

“Drive, Y/N, drive!” Paps urges me, pushing my arms to scoot to the driver’s seat. I throw the truck in reverse, pulling the door closed as I rush to get us away from it all, pushing the pedal to the floor as my eyes scan for more faultlines. It feels as though we’re surrounded by them. My heart is pounding, now, as my body does the necessary work on auto pilot. 

“Keep going! Keep going!” Paps says as we get closer to town, and away from the vibrating ground. After a few minutes of shaking panic, it feels like the buzzing of the ground has subsided, and I can finally take a deep breath. A shaky one, but a breath nonetheless. 

As I finally allow my eyes to adjust and my hands to stretch, I’m finally feeling in control of my body again. Okay, okay, I’ve got this. Just keep driving. “Paps, you okay?”

“I’m okay sweetheart, you okay?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” I breathe, taking another deep breath in to calm my shaking body. “God, why the fuck did he do that?”

“Couldn’t tell ya, dumb and curious, I guess,” he says, taking another drink from the canteen before offering it to me. “Head toward the city, we’ll need to find a place to hunker down, tonight.”

And though my heart is still pounding as his words hit me, I take the right turn off the state route to head to the interstate, both of us in high hopes that the city will offer us more than it did when we left it. But honestly, I’m losing faith. 

I’d been driving for nearly twenty minutes on the empty road before I take a cutoff exit, determined to cut our drive time down and conserve fuel. The exit leads to a sideroad that is heavily wooded, but I know it will get us to the city more quickly. As the headlights shine down the two-lane road, I notice some kind of dark, shadowed figures standing down in the distance. I blink a few times, trying to see what is there. 

“Is that deer?” I ask Paps. 

“Can’t tell, it’s too dark,” he says, so I slow my pace. My headlights do little to light them up, but the closer we get, the more human they look. Tall, dark… just standing there?

And they aren’t moving. I bring the truck to a stop, my headlights almost no help at all as the figures begin to close in on us, instead of moving out of the road. 

“The hell is this, what’s happening?” Paps yells as the figures have us completely blocked from continuing down the road, now. My panic returns. I hear Paps cock his shotgun. “Drive, drive!!!”

My foot smashes the pedal to the floor, but the truck doesn’t move. The tires screech as I continue pushing it, willing the truck to keep going. But it won’t. It’s like I’m running it into a brick wall. “What’s happening!! Why won’t it go?!” I scream, my hands gripping the wheel as the truck begins to fishtail from the force of the tires on the ground. The lights from the truck are completely gone, now. We’re in total darkness. “Paps!”

“I’m here, I’m here, honey!” and I feel him grab my hand. Suddenly the truck doors slam open, and my body is being grabbed and pulled from the seat. I thrash and kick at whatever has grabbed me, but nothing works. It’s too strong. I feel a painful hit to my head, and my ears scream as I start to lose consciousness. I feel a dark cover be put over my head and secured, completely blocking my vision altogether. “Paps!!!!” I try and yell, but I’m slipping quickly into unconsciousness as my voice is barely a squeal. My hands are being tied in front of me, and all I feel is cold. 

+++

I wake up in a cold sweat, my hands still bound as I sit with my back against a metal wall. My breathing is ragged as I try and take in my surroundings, and I realize I still have the covering over my head. I wince in pain from the impact of whatever hit my head earlier. I hear others beside me, many crying, panicked voices whimpering in the same room. I try and make a sound, but my voice is hoarse from screaming. I try and speak, but there is tape over my mouth. What is happening, where is Paps?!

My heart is pounding in my chest as I try to raise my bound hands and remove the covering, but it’s secured tightly. I’m in pitch black darkness, and I can’t see a fucking thing. I try to stand, but my muscles are weak and sore, and I can hardly will them to move, let alone stand. It’s unclear how long I was knocked out, and how long I have been sitting in this cold, metal room, but it feels like only a few minutes have passed. I feel tears begin running down my face, I feel so helpless, so exhausted. So blind.  

Suddenly I hear a loud noise, like a heavy metal door being thrust open. I see a light through the covering over my face, and I try and yell again. But nothing comes out. Just like in those nightmares where you are unable to make a sound. I hear footsteps come into the room, heavy boots pounding against the concrete floor. My covering is forcefully removed, and it takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the bright light. 

Finally, I’m able to see eight or ten others with me, all of us sitting with our hands bound, lined up against the walls of this room. Some beside me, some directly across from me. I watch as two tall, masked men work their way around the room, removing each and every face covering. A woman, a man, a teenaged boy, an elderly lady… and then, Paps. I make excited eye contact with him as I feel a squeal leave my taped lips. He’s safe. He’s here. 

I watch as the rest of the covers are removed one by one, the person seated directly across from me being saved for last. They leave him sitting for a few seconds as they exchange what looks to be laughs with one another before one of them gently kicks his legs a little before undoing his head covering. 

The man’s face is beaten and bruised, his brown hair tangled and long and falling in front of his face as he winces in pain. They throw his face covering back down to the floor beside him, laughing again as they turn and leave the room without a word, locking the door behind them. 

I peer to the hair-covered face again to get a better look, and I swear if my mouth wasn’t taped shut, I would have screamed out in disbelief. 

That’s Jake fucking Kiszka.

He feels my eyes on him as he finally looks up to me, noticing my awkward stare. Neither of us can speak. I feel myself smiling under the tape, what are the fucking odds? What is happening?! Where the fuck are we?

His eyes grow wide as he realizes I know him, and he stares back at me in utter confusion. Do I tell him I recognize him? Shit, he can probably tell I do, by now. For some odd reason unbeknownst to me, I maneuver my tied hands to slowly pull up the sleeve of my shirt, showing him the splattering of tattoos that line my forearm. I know you. I watch his eyes see them as I straighten my arm out, willing him to see them, recognize them.

I watch his chest rise and fall as he begins shaking his head slowly side to side, his breathing picking up significantly as he looks at me with red, swollen eyes. 

No? Is he telling me no?

Just as I hear the sound of the heavy footsteps coming back down the hall, I watch as Jake slowly lifts his bound hands to his face, his pointer finger sticking up in front of his taped mouth. 

My stomach falls as I realize he’s serious. Not only is he telling me no, he’s telling me to stay quiet.

Tags: @gretavangroupie @britney-gvf @sacredstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @farfromthehomelands @takenbythemadness @writingcold @builtbybrokenbells @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @fleet-of-fiction @milkgemini @gvfpal @ageofcj@dancingcarbon @highway-tuna @stardustjake @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @gvfmarge @gracev0609 @myleftsock @literal-dead-leaf @peaceloveunitygvf @ageofbajabule @slut4lando @jordie-gvf @sadiechar @tinydancer40 @rosabellagvf @capnjaket @lyndz2names @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavanomens @spark-my-nature @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk @alwaysonthemend @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs @lipstickitty @hippievanfleet @klarxtr @strange-whorizons @do-it-jakey-baby @myownparadise96 @gvf-luna @starshine-wagner @cassiesgreta @joopsandjangs @whimsiliz @kiszkas-canvas @whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick@kiszka-canvas @whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick @jenniferkiszka @jjwasneverhere @gvfmarge @pineapple-photographer @vanfleeter

[sinner-sunflower]

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 11/?

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22

I'm sorry if this feels a bit fast-paced but I am not writing 1 month's worth of Luci's journey on Earth alksjdlas

Everything is tying up very nicely.

The ending is already being written and this chapter has a lot of clues on what will happen next.

To any ARTISTS or WRITERS who want to make something based on this AU, you have my full permission! All I ask is I want to read/see it!

Your reblogs, likes, and comments are much appreciated.

And feel free to chat with me if you have any theories or AUs or this AU of your own!

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

The thing about being immortal and whose existence started since the beginning of well- everything- is that it is literally just a concept.

Centuries feel like minutes. Days into seconds. Seconds into basically nothing.

Hell, the only reason why Lucifer knew 7 years had passed since Lilith left was because he was counting. He wanted to be reminded of the pain of losing the first person he ever loved.

Call him a bad father but he genuinely doesn't know how long since he has seen Charlie.

He knows it's been a while but he didn't realize just how much longer it was. He missed out on so many years of his daughter's life because he couldn't stop being fucking sad.

Charlie probably has something to say about that mentality but he can't help it.

So when Lucifer takes a whole month of scouring Earth before he finds what he's looking for, he curses himself.

Didn't he just arrive on Earth a few hours ago? Now that he thinks about it, following that wild duck chase (it's goose, dear) should've been a dead giveaway that he was taking too long.

He should've known seeing the sun and moon appearing at that many intervals meant days were flying by.

It's not entirely his fault. Pride's days and nights are basically the same- plus it's not like he needs sleep. It was bound to fuck up his body clock.

Judging by how there are no effects in the human world yet, they're still probably keeping the Roo situation at bay. He's grateful for his siblings but it only makes him move more urgently.

Lucifer arrives at a grassy field on a hill in the middle of nowhere.

It was warm, but the wind is making sure the skin doesn't burn by the sun's rays. He looks around and spots a woman-like figure under the shade of the line tree- her short hair dancing with the wind.

Lucifer walks loudly to her but she doesn't acknowledge his presence. Only when he is standing in her line of sight does she react.

Unknown: Hello, Lucifer.

Lucifer: Goodie.

The Good of Humanity. The being he unintentionally corrupted by his actions.

Goodie: To what do I owe the pleasure.

Lucifer: I need your help. It's about your sister.

Goodie: Hmm? Well then. Come sit. It appears we have a lot to talk about ~

Lucifer sits and takes a deep breath.

Lucifer: Roo- Roo is breaking out. It's only a matter of time before she fully escapes and we are not strong enough to seal her back up again with her stronger state. Hell will-

Goodie stops his rambling by placing a hand on his.

Goodie: Calm now, angel.

Lucifer:… sorry.

Goodie: You say my sister is coming back?

Lucifer: Yes. She's eating her way out of hell and if we don't stop her soon, my people- my family are going to die. I am never above begging so please- help us.

There was a pregnant pause before Goodie spoke up again.

Goodie: I do not have the power you are looking for.

Lucifer: But..

Goodie: But! I never said I would not help.

Lucifer: you'll help Hell?

Goodie: I am the embodiment of good. I can see how much of it someone has inside their heart and right now… your heart is as full as it is pure.

Lucifer: Then how can we-

Goodie: I can lend you something that shall be enough to contain her. But for this to work, I need one thing.

Lucifer: What is it?

Goodie finally meets his eyes. He felt like he was looking at everything he destroyed- the failed project that is humanity.

Goodie: You.

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

What to look forward to in Part 12:

Luci comes back to hell with Goodie in tow.

Some conflicts started by the overlords

The Lucifer finally gets involve in the ritual

[joannaliceevans-fanficblog]

Evermore: Part. 2

A/N: Hello! I just wanted to thank everyone who has read and commented on the last chapter! That truly means a lot to me.

Warnings: There aren't many warnings, but to have tissues ready. It's been hard to write without crying every sentence.

Before I shut up, I just wanted to thank my lovely besties here. @hollybee8917 ! She made this wonderful mood board and edited this chapter! So thank you, babes!

Your alarm clock buzzed, and you moaned. You barely gotten any sleep and you didn’t want to get up. But you had to, because today wasn’t just an ordinary day. Today was a big day. Before you could even get up, the door opened and the sounds of tippy taps were heard. You smiled, and the sound of sniffing and then the 80 lbs. Alaskan Malamute/German Shepherd pup jumped onto the bed.

“Alright Sarg!” You said as he gave you wet kisses. You then pushed Sarg off, and he jumped off. It was a chilly, winter morning, so you grabbed your sweater and the moment you placed it on, you smiled. The scent of Bergamot and Vanilla filled your nose.

“In a few more hours, honey.” You said to yourself and wondered what he was up to.

And on cue, your phone rang and you quickly grabbed it and slid the green button.

Hi angel.

You smiled to yourself, “Hello Mr. Levinson, did you sleep well? And I thought you weren’t supposed to call me sir?”

You heard Ari laugh and you let out a giggle. He replied, “I did, surprisingly. And I know, I know. Andy forbade me from calling you. But I can’t go a day without hearing your voice. Even if it’s just for a brief moment.”

And that is true. Ever since you were 16, Ari would have called you. You weren’t dating then, but him being your best friend since you were teens, nothing could sway him from talking to you.

You scratched your head, “Is everything okay, Ari?”

“In all honesty? No. I couldn’t sleep last night.”

“Aww baby, is everything alright?”

“No, because you’re not here.”

A sad sight slipped from your lips, “How do I make everything okay?”

Ari laughed, “Oh angel, it will be in a few hours when you become Mrs. Levinson.”

The sound of that made your heart jump for joy. That is true. You heard Andy in the background, and you laughed.

Well, Mrs. Soon-to-be Levinson, I’ve got to go. But I’ll see you in a few hours. I love you.

You smiled, “Love you too, Mr. Levinson.”

You hung up, and Sarg jumped onto the bed, giving you a bark.

“Alright! I’m going, I’m going!” You said, getting up and heading out.

 **

A few hours later…

You stood in front of the mirror, making sure that everything was in place. Your hair was perfect, makeup was just the way you wanted it. A knock was heard and you turned around to see your college best friend Holly. In her hands was your bouquet of white, dark magenta pink, and baby pink Roses.

“You got something new and borrowed. But something is missing.” Holly said, as she placed your bouquet down and a small box appeared. You had curious eyes as your friend strolled towards you. The box opened, and you gasped.

A diamond pendant.

“I told Ari no expensive gifts!” You say, running your fingertips against the necklace.

“He knew you would have said that,” Holly said and handed you a small card. You placed the box down and opened the card.

I had a feeling that you would say something about the gift. I know we decided not to give expensive gifts, but you deserve it. Hell, you deserve everything in this world. I love you, Mrs. Levinson.

-Ari

You smiled and sighed.

“Let’s put on.” You say. You took the necklace and placed it around your neck.

**

The limo pulled up in front of St. Cecilia Catholic Church. The car came to a complete stop, and you took a deep breath and sighed. Then the door opened, and your best friend Holly came out, then your parents. You handed Holly your bouquet and got yourself out. It’s only been 30 minutes, and your feet are already hurting from the heels that you are wearing. You hated them, but Holly and your mother insisted you wear them. Thank the lord you brought your flats, and you would be changing into them after the ceremony. 

You fidgeted nervously as you stood in front of the double doors. With your dad next to you and your arm linked to his, he looked down at you, “Ready, Squirt?”

You giggled, knowing that was your nickname since you were a kid.

“I am daddy. And dad?” You asked.

“What is it?” He asked. 

You placed your hand on top of his and smiled, “Thank you for everything.” 

Your dad smiled and patted your hand. And with that, the doors opened, and everyone stood up. Your hands started to shake as the music started playing Yiruma’s Moments and you started to walk down the aisle. You shook a little until you looked towards the altar and your beloved Ari was looking back at you. The way he smiled at you made your heart soar. He was looking mighty fine. He wore his Army uniform, with his saber by his side. His thick beard and the way his long fluffy hair brought a smile to your face once more. (You had only a few months with him before he was deployed back to South Carolina for training new recruits) 

When you reached the front, your dad released your hand and placed it into Ari’s. You then stepped forward and faced Ari.

“Hi Angel,” Ari whispered. 

You wiped your tears and smiled, “Hi, Ari Bear.”

**

Wandering around the venue with a glass of wine in your hands, you spoke with guests. As you did, you looked over to the other side of the hall to see your now husband heading towards you. You handed your glass to Holly and by the time you did, Ari was in front you with his hand out. You placed yours into his and he took you to the middle of the dance floor. Ari gave the DJ a nod and a familiar tune came on. You looked up at Ari and he smiled. Your heart skipped a beat, “Is this-“

“Me and You?” 

Ari said, “Yes it is.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks and you placed your head against his chest.

“Everyday I live

Try my best to give

All I have to you

Thank the stars above

That we share this love

Me and You”

“You looked so beautiful walking down the aisle.” Ari whispered into your ear. 

“You knew that I liked your thick beard.” You said, as you still both swayed to the music.

Those are the exact words he has always said to you when he would write you letters, or send you flowers. But hearing him singing them to you made it even more special. You thank the stars that he came into your life. You then looked towards him and reached up to kiss him, “I love you.”

Ari kissed you once more, “I love you more.” 

**

You strolled with Sam by your side as you went towards Ari. Everything around you seemed like a blur, and nothing existed. Your heart was beating and breaking all at the same time by the time you got to his casket. You let go of Sam’s arm and stood for a moment, looking. But the second you placed your hand on top of the flag, everything went south with your emotions. Your tears, your feelings, your love for Ari, it all hit you. You placed your head down onto the coffin and balled your fists tightly. 

“Ari, I’m here now.” You whisper. 

You felt a hand behind you, and you knew that it was Andy.  

“Y/N, they have to retrieve him now,” Andy told you. 

You placed a kiss on top of the flag, and you stepped back, even if it was hurting. You held on to Andy, tears still coming down, and you watched on as your husband was being placed into the Hearst. The moment the door closed, Andy led you back to the car so you could go to the funeral home.

Good evening. I'm Jason Austel from NBC Boston. We start this evening with some upsetting news. A local hero, US Army Captain Ari Levinson from Concord, died today. He was deployed overseas and was in the Humvee when a bomb exploded in the car in front of them. He is survived by his wife and his 5-month-old daughter.