#BRING BACK SMALL TOWN POLITICS STRANGER THINGS

[jonathanbyersphd]

One of my biggest pet peeves with st is that as someone who grew up in a small town (like 8000 ppl I went to HS with 400 other kids) NANCY SHOULD'VE KNOWN WHO ROBIN WAS IN S3.

Like yea ok maybe they weren't friendly but to not know her at all??? Like they never had a single class together??? That makes zero sense.

Like I promise you I may not have been friends with all those other kids but we knew each other and we knew what everyone was up to.

[yoonguurt]

Summary: A failed relationship and an ailing mother forces Y/N to move back to her hometown, despite not wanting to.  She knows in her heart that everything will be the same as the day she left. Nothing ever changes in a small town. Except when it does. A new neighbor, a new hardware store, and two new additions to the town bring the holiday magic into Y/N’s life. The question is, will the magic stay or will the ghost of Christmas past ruin everything?

Pairing: non idol!San × reader

Genre: fluff, angst, smut

Trope: strangers to lovers

Word count: 15,207 (yikes)

Warnings: mentions of death of a parent, mentions of cheating (not San or reader), mentions of depression and antidepressants, reader's mother is in poor health. Smut warnings under the cut.

A/n: this is the longest fic I have ever written and I genuinely had fun writing it. I'm so proud of this. Thank you to @kwanisms for making the banner as always

@anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @millennial-fangirl @kpop-stories-21 @twisted-tales-of-all @skyechild @staytinyville

Smut warnings: Switch!San, switch!reader, oral sex (m&f receiving), fingering, marking, protected sex, they just soft for each other.

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You step off of the bus, leaves crunching under you feet as you look around, noticing that the town looks pretty much the same as the day you left. Some of the buildings are more run down than they used to be, the roads are a little less maintained, but it’s nothing major.

You sigh and readjust the bag on your shoulder, tightening your grip on the suitcase beside you. Your thoughts drift, reminding yourself to call the moving company to confirm the arrival date of the rest of your things. Your thoughts shift to Joshua and you hear bits of your final conversation, before blinking away the tears starting to form and take your first step.

You had sold your car, knowing you wouldn’t need it in such a small place, your mother can no longer drive so you can use her car if needed. You look at your watch, not having a cell phone since not only was it on Joshua’s plan, but you didn’t want an easy way for him to contact you.

You start walking along the sidewalk, keeping your head down and lost in your thoughts. Your childhood home isn’t that far from the main square and you still know the way like the back of your hand.

A few people stop you and make small talk, surprised that you’re back in town and seeming to be staying for a while. You try to be polite, though avoidant when they ask questions, only telling them that your mother needed you here so you came. Your patience is being tested, but you do your best not to let it show on your face. God, you really don’t want to be here.

After finally getting away from the nosey town people, thinking that no one in this town has anything better to do than worry about other people’s business, you smile as you pass the local diner. You know you’ll be the talk of the town for a while, but the memories of all the time spent in that dingy diner drift through your mind.

Your first date, your first job (well sort of), your last hangout before leaving town. You remind yourself that you really need to stop by and talk to Lou as soon as possible. Out of everyone here, you’ve missed him the most and you know he’ll be happy to see you.

You make it to your mother’s neighborhood, looking around to see what, if anything has changed. Everything looks mostly the same, your mother’s house is in desperate need of paint and good lawn care, though. You notice the house to the right of her mother’s has changed.

There is a swing set in the yard, a small inflatable pool and a tricycle scattered throughout. You guess that the older lady that lived there must have moved. Of course she would have, it has been 12 years since you left. That lady may not even be alive anymore, that thought bringing a ping of hurt to your heart. She was always such a wonderful lady. You shake the sad thought away before stepping up to the front door and pulling your key out and unlocking the door.

You call out to your mother, letting her know that you made it. You hear your mother’s voice sounding out from the kitchen. You kick your shoes off beside the door and walk down the short hall, making a right into the kitchen to see your mother standing at the island in the center of the room, a smile on her face. You greet your mother with a hug and accepts the mug of coffee she hands you.

You look around as the two of you talk about your trip, noticing that there are many repairs that need to be made. Cabinets need to be painted and finished, the counters need to be fixed, and the wallpaper is peeling. You briefly wonder what else needs to be fixed.

You think you noticed the railing along the stairs was tilted. You sigh again, knowing that there’s no way you can leave these things the way they are. You know these things are bothering you, but in her current state you also know that she can’t fix them herself.

Your mother’s questioning about Joshua brings you out of your thoughts, and you force a small smile. “ He’s fine, mom.” You know that your mother can tell that there is something you aren’t saying, but decides not to push the issue right now.

After finishing your coffee, you excuse yourself, telling your mother that you are going to unpack your things and you make your way back down the hallway, making another right to go up the stairs.

As you reach the top of the stairs, you pause, taking a look around the upstairs of the house. Your childhood bedroom is to the left of the stairs There is a door to the right before you get to your room, your mother’s old sewing room. You remember sitting on the bean bag chair on the floor of the room reading while your mother sewed.

The next door on the left is the bathroom, you think about how many days you spent hours in there, trying to make sure you looked your best for school. Your bedroom door is the last door on the right, the room across the hall is an old storage room that you’re sure has many of your childhood toys. Your mother has always been a sentimental hoarder.

Before entering your room, you turn and take a long back down the hallway. There aren’t as many rooms down the right side of the hall. Your parent’s room is the only door on the left, the master bedroom with their own bathroom and there’s a small alcove with a bay window on the right.

Your eyes pause on the door at the end of the hall, your father’s study. You stare at the door for a moment before turning back to face your door. With one more sigh, you open your door, throwing one last look at the door at the end of the hall, and head into your room, closing the door softly behind you.

You let your eyes drift around the room. The desk that you used for homework is set up against the back wall and you quickly take your laptop from your bag, setting it on the desk and plugging the charger into the wall.

You had found a job as a remote legal assistant, mostly fielding emails to the correct parties, getting video calls of meetings that you needed to type the minutes for. You were very thankful that your former boss had put you in contact with someone that had the position available. Without being able to stop them, your thoughts drift to your old life.

You had left your hometown not long after graduating, knowing that the small town life wasn’t for you. You had quickly found a job as a receptionist for a law firm, and you were damn good at your job. And you loved your job. You regret that you didn’t visit more, really only making the two hour drive back home for the holidays. You had still talked to your mother every day, but you knew that she would have loved to see you more.

After being with the firm for a year, a new partner was welcomed into the work family. Joshua had immediately caught your attention. Not only was he gorgeous, but he was soft spoken and polite. A true gentleman. He had a wonderful sense of humor. He was just amazing.

For two years, your life had been everything you had wanted. Until the death of your father. His death hit you hard. You essentially shut down for a while, you can admit to that. You know that Joshua tried to bring you out of your grief, but you hadn’t let him in.

Though you could realize that those things happened, that didn’t excuse Joshua’s actions. It didn’t excuse you walking into Joshua’s office on day to find him fucking his assistant. No, there was no excuse for that. You had come to tell him that you would need to come back home for a while, your mother wasn’t doing well and you needed to get her settled. Now, your visit has become a permanent residence.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts and focus your attention back on your room.

Your bookcase sits left of the door, mostly empty. Your face falls into frown. You didn’t read much when you were a teen, too busy with parties and friends. You had picked up on the hobby after you had moved. The thought that the bookcase would be full once the rest of your things arrive lifted your spirits a bit.

Reading had become one of your most treasured hobbies. When you had a bad day, you could lose yourself in a fictional world. The thought that you didn’t know if you could take away the worries and doubts you have currently makes your heart sink a little bit, but you swallow the sadness down, determined not to let yourself breakdown again. You had done her crying the night she left and you promised yourself that that was the last time you would cry over Joshua.

You look around your room again, smiling at how it looks exactly like you left it. Your queen size bed still has the zebra print bedspread you had gotten when you were 16 and you cringe a little. “The first thing I’m buying is a new bedspread and sheets.” Your voice is a whisper despite being the only one in the room.

Your slight grimace fades into a smile when you see the handmade quilt your aunt had given you as a Christmas present folded and placed at the foot of your bed. You take a step forward and rub your fingers along the fabric, her eyes watering a little at the memory of your aunt giving it to her. You really need to call her and see how she’s doing. You huff a small laugh, remembering that even in this day and age, both your mother and aunt still have wall phones, thinking that they really are sisters.

After taking a shower and changing into a tank top and sweats, you make your way back downstairs to check on your mother and help her make dinner. You pop your head into the kitchen, clearing your throat to let your mother aware of your presence. “Need any help?” Your mom smiles and nods. “I would love some.”

The two of you make small talk as you bumble around the kitchen, cutting vegetables and preparing everything your need. You turn to face your mother, only to notice that she is winding, but trying to hide it. “Mom, sit down. I can handle the rest of this.” She opens her mouth to argue, but you throw a stern glare at her and she sighs and sits at the table, a slight pout on her face. What an adorable woman.

The food is ready in no time, and you make a plate for each of you.

“Wanna eat in the living room? Maybe we can watch The Thornbirds?” Your mother quickly agrees, glad to be spending time with you and watching something you both love.

You eat quietly, paying attention to the movie like you haven’t seen it a million times. When you’ve finished your food, you set your plate on the coffee table, fully intending to wash it once the movie is over. It hits you just how much you have missed spending time with your mom like this. You pull your feet onto the couch and throw a blanket over yourself as you lay your head in your mother’s lap, simply enjoying how much better it makes you feel.

“Y/N. Wake up, sweet girl,” your mother’s voice wakes you up.

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep but you guess that the comfort of snuggle up to your mother must have lulled you into slumber. You stand slowly, stretching with a grunt. Your mom stands as well, much more slowly than you had.

“Mom, is it your feet?”

She nods and tells you that it’s fine, but you make sure to help her up. You wrap your arm around hers, helping her up the stairs. “I can do this on my own, you know?” Her voice has a bit of her trademark attitude and you have to bite back a laugh. “I’m sure you can, but you’re not.” That makes her fake angry front break and she giggles.

Once you make it to your mother’s door, you let go of her arm. “I’m glad to have you home. I love you,” she ends with a kiss to your forehead and you tell her that you love her too before turning to return to your bedroom. You hope that your bed is as comfortable as it used to be as you climb in, getting comfortable. Sleep comes quickly, though your dreams are filled with arguments and tears.

You wake up later than you had planned the next day, though you don’t feel guilty about it. Your new job doesn’t start until next month so you don't necessarily have to be up early.

You hear your mother moving around downstairs and you make a stop by the bathroom to potty and brush your teeth before heading downstairs. You can’t help but stop at the top of the stairs, your eyes stopping on the door at the end of the hall. The thought of walking into the study crosses your mind, but you quickly dismiss it, knowing that you aren’t ready for that.

You peek in each room looking for your mother, eventually finding her on the back porch, a cup of coffee in her hand as she sits on the porch swing. She flashes you a smile and wishes you a good morning. “Though it’s almost afternoon. There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen,” she laughs at her own little joke.

“Morning Ma,” you greet her. “I’m so glad you made coffee. I’m not used to that bed anymore so I tossed and turned all night.” She hums in acknowledgement and you turn, moving forward to the kitchen to get your coffee.

While in the kitchen, your attention is brought back to the state of disarray of your mother’s home. You make the decision that today you'll go into the main square and get yourself a new bedspread and some basic necessities. Tomorrow you can go to the hardware store and look into what you’ll need to fix the kitchen up.

You make your coffee, and return to the porch and talk to your mother about your plans for the day, asking if her mother needs anything.

“All I can think of is that my medicine should be ready at the pharmacy. Do you mind picking it up for me?”

You agree and the conversation turns to what happened to the older lady that lived next door. “Oh. Her son had to put her in a home after she fell. I heard she passed after about a year.” Although this was what you expected, knowing that this is what happened still hurts.

“There have been a few people in and out of the house since then. Right now, there’s a young man around your age and his son. I don’t know much about him, but he seems like a nice boy.” Maybe more changed around here than you thought.

You take your time enjoying your coffee and chatting with your mom, getting a shower afterwards and getting ready to run your errands. The hot water feels amazing on your skin and once again you take your time. You’re used to being in a rush when you get ready and it’s nice to just be.

Looking through your clothes, you choose a pair of black skinny jeans and a band tee. You complete the outfit with your black combat boots, the ones that have little metal hearts on the side. A lot of things have changed since you left town, but you still sure hasn’t.

When you decide that you’re ready go, you stop by the back porch to tell you mother that you’re heading out and telling her that you’ll see her later.

The late fall air feels crisp and you take a deep breath, simply enjoying it. The fresh air is definitely something you’ve missed about being home. The city is great in many ways, but the air quality certainly isn’t one of them. It’s also nice to step outside and not hear sirens and horns everywhere immediately.

There’s something peaceful about being able to feel the breeze and just walking in silence.

As you step off the front porch, you find yourself walking to your mother’s car out of habit. You had already decided to walk, though you have second thoughts when you remember that you’ll be carrying a bed set home.

You stand firm in your decision to walk, thinking that the walk could be the replacement for a gym trip that you totally would have gone on in the city. (That’s a lie. You hate the gym, but it sounds better in your head.)

As the slight breeze hits your back, you think about grabbing a jacket. If your back gets cold, you’re fucked, but you take the risk instead of trudging back inside. Plus, you remind yourself, the weather here is finicky and it could suddenly warm up and you could be sweating.

As you walk to the square, you feel as if you’re repeating the day before. Multiple people stop you, they obviously haven’t heard the gossip from the people that stopped you yesterday. Or they just want to see if they can get something else out of you, which is entirely possible.

As you make it to the center of town, the sidewalk traffic slows down and you breathe out a sigh of relief. You notice that the hardware store has barely changed, only the name is new. You glance through the window, the inside still looks exactly the same. There’s a little boy grinning and talking to anyone he see. The boy is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. His little afro bouncing a little as he runs around.

Smiling softly at the image in front of you, you turn your head back to the sidewalk as you press on. Just past the hardware store is the pharmacy. It looks as if it hasn’t changed a bit and you are certain that an older version of the pharmacist sits inside behind the counter. You make a mental note, reminding yourself to stop and get your mom’s medication on your way back home. The thought of carrying medication around the home goods store makes you uncomfortable, so you feel resolute in your choice.

You lower your head as you pass the diner, not ready to be stopped yet. You still need to stop in and see Lou, but you think that you’ll do that tomorrow. The home goods store is a couple buildings down from the diner. It still baffles you that this town has such a large store, though it wouldn’t be considered large by most people’s standards, and you’re kind of shocked it has lasted as long as it has.

The bell dings as you open the door and you cringe slightly, hoping no one notices that it’s you who walked through the door. You walk down the main aisle, looking at the signs on the edges of side aisles trying to find the bedding aisle. Honestly, you don’t have high hopes about the selection they’ll have, but you guess anything is better than the zebra print monstrosity that is on your bed currently. You finally find the bedding aisle and you are pleasantly surprised to see both sides of the aisle are full of options. You look over the choices in front of you, realizing that you were correct. Most of the options are different brands of the same plain sets. When you resign yourself to having to get a plain white set, you find something that perfectly suits your taste. It’s black in color and has a large sun with smaller stars and moons floating around randomly on the rest of the comforter. You discretely jump in happiness when you see that they have one queen sized set left and you quickly snatch it up and make your way to the register, remembering half way there to grab some new body wash and basic necessities. Luckily, the store is fairly empty and you don’t recognize the young girl at the counter, so you feel relief at someone probably not knowing you. You’re very glad to know that your assumption was correct, the girl barely pays attention to you and you’re able to quickly pay and leave.

As you carry the bedding, you groan internally, annoyed at yourself for not stopping at the pharmacy before you went to the home goods store. The bedding is slipping from your hand and the angle is awkward. This is not one of your best decisions.

'Mistakes have been made. '

Readjusting you grip on the bedding, you pick up you pace, doing your best to make it to the pharmacy as quickly as possible. As you turn towards the door of the pharmacy, you let out a groan when you realize that you going to have a time getting this open with your hands full.

Resigning yourself to the fact that you’re going to have to put the bedding down to open the door, you’re surprised when a hand and a soft “Let me,” comes from your right. You turn your head and you have to hold in your gasp gasp.

An absolutely beautiful man is smiling a bright smile, briefly reminding you of the boy you saw earlier through the window of the hardware store. His black hair is pushed back off of his forehead and you have the thought that you want to run your hands through it.

His shoulders are broad, but his waist is tiny. He’s gorgeous.

He pulls the door open, gesturing with left hand in an “after you” motion. You smile, slightly shyly which is very unlike you, and thank him. He holds the door open for you before he steps inside him self. “You’re welcome,” he replies. “Just couldn’t stand to see a pretty lady struggling,” he adds, giving you a smile and a nod, turning while you continue straight toward the counter.

A friendly older man smiles as he asks you what he can help you with. You were right when you guessed it was the same man that worked here before you left. People tend to stick to the same thing forever in small towns.

You give him your mother’s name and tell him that you are her daughter and are here to pick up her medication. He gives you a nod and steps away to locate the medication. You quickly set the bedding down, giving your arm a stretch so it doesn’t get stiff.

The pharmacist comes back with the medication for your mother and gives you the total of the purchase. You pays pausing to ask him a few questions about the medication before you grab your things and head toward the door. You notice the man from earlier standing in front of the vitamins, looking a little confused.

You step forward, voice not too loud to scare the man. “You need any help there?” He startles a little and you chuckle a little and apologize, telling him that he just looked like he was confused. He laughs shyly, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “I-uh, came to get my son’s vitamins, but they’re out of the ones I usually buy. I’m trying to find a suitable substitute.”

You give him a firm nod turning to look at the options. You asks him what kind he normally gets and he tells you the brand. You scan the shelf, unaware of the eyes on the side of your face, before making a small “aha” and setting your bedding down again and reaching out to grab a bottle.

“These are just as beneficial as the ones you normally get, but they’re cheaper. Plus, they’re gummies so he’ll probably like them more,” you explain as you hand him the bottle. He smiles widely at you and you can feel your breath catching again as he thanks you.

“No need for thanks. Just returning the favor.” He gives you another big smile and follows you to the door, opening it again so you can step outside. You thank him and tell him to have a good day as he turns back around to pay.

The rest of your trip home is without incident, much to your relief. You walk through your mother’s door and call out. “Mom! I’m back!” You take your things upstairs to drop your things off in your room. You go back downstairs to find your mother. She asks about you day and you decide to bring up her medication as you hand it to her.

“Momma, why didn’t you tell me things were so bad. Mr. Jones told me a bit about these medications. Antidepressants, medicine for chronic sinus issues and face pain, and pain medication for your feet.” You watch her face as she processes what you’ve said, not pushing her to answer you immediately. You want her to be able to take her time.

After a moment or two, she speaks. “I’ve been handling things the best I could. You had your own life and I didn’t want to worry you more than necessary.” Your eyes begin to water and you hug her, apologizing for not being around more.

“Oh dear, I’m not upset with you for growing up and going on your own path. But I sure am glad to have you home.” The two of you stand in each others arms for a bit longer.

You think it’s finally time to break the news to her mother that you and Joshua are no longer together and the reasoning behind your breakup.” Mom, Josh and I aren’t together anymore. I found him with another woman a week or so before I came back.”

She tilts her head and pulls you back into her arms, asking if you’re ok. You softly tell her mother that you’re ok, still hurt, but ok. You mother suggests that the two of you cook together and watch another movie and you smile and agree.

After eating and watching the movie, you had decided to watch Ma and Pa Kettle, an old favorite of yours, you help your mother to bed and change your bedding. You take a look at what feels like a brand new bed, beyond pleased to have the god awful zebra atrocity gone from sight.

You check your email before bed, noticing an email from Joshua. You delete it without even reading it, not even thinking twice about it. You order yourself a new phone, already tired of not having one and climb into bed.

You wake up earlier than you did the day before and go through the routine of brushing your teeth, showering, and having breakfast and coffee with you mom. You definitely picked up your coffee addiction from her.

“Just a reminder that I’m going to the hardware store today. Gotta get started on fixing this kitchen.” She nods telling you to take the car today, and you agree with a laugh, telling her that you had already planned on it. “Are you dead set on these white cabinets?” Your mom smiles softly.

“The kitchen is your project, my baby. You do whatever you want with it. The house will be yours eventually, might as well have it the way you like it.” You smile despite the painful thought that one day your mother won’t be here. “Besides, you did always talk about designing the perfect kitchen.”

You give her a wide smile, glad she remembers how much you always talked about designing the kitchen in your future home. You tells her that you will see her later as you grab the keys to the car and steps outside.

You hear laughter from the lawn of the house next door and turn to see a little boy running to the car in the driveway, and a man hunched down chasing him, wiggling his fingers like he’s going to tickle the boy. The sight warms your heart and you briefly think that they look familiar. You smile to yourself and makes your way to the car.

You park the car in the small lot in front of the hardware store, sitting for a moment before getting out and stepping to the door of the building. Pulling on the handle, you find that the door won’t open. You check the hours on the front of the glass, it says that the store should be open by now. You heave a sigh, something that has become quite common lately, and turn to head back to the car.

“Are you trying to get into the hardware store?” A voice comes from behind you. You turn to find the man from the pharmacy the day before, a set of keys in one hand and the hand of a small boy in the other. You give him a smile and nod, waving at the boy. You bend down a little.

“Well, hello there.” The boy smiles and waves back. “I’m so sorry. Normally, I’d have opened up by now, but a certain little boy didn’t want to get out of bed this morning.” As he finishes his sentence, his eyes flicker down to the boy, who is still wearing his bright smile.

You laugh and tells him that you understand and there are still some days where you don’t want to get out of bed. The man laughs his beautiful laugh again and opens the door, making the same motion with his hand as he did the day before.

Once you get into the store, the man snaps and makes an oh sound. You jump a little and look at him with a confused look. “This is the second time we’ve met and I still haven’t introduced myself. I’m San and this is my store.” He’s wearing a small smirk as he speaks.

You give him your name back, trying not to let your tummy flutter when he says that it is a pretty name. You squat down to the boy, making sure you’re face to face. “And what is your name, cutie?”

He gives you a big smile. “I’m Mason Choi and I’m four.” He holds up four fingers as he speaks. “My address is--”

“Ok, buddy, you don’t have to tell her all of that,” San interrupts with a breathy laugh, causing you to giggle along with him. You stand back up to full height, asking San where you can find the paint, and he points you in the right direction before you both go your separate ways.

You browse the paint aisle, taking your time looking through the colors. You aren’t sure you’ll be able to pick one for certain, but you know she’ll be taking home some swatches. You spend a few minutes thinking about the overall theme you want for the kitchen, trying to think about what would go best with what you have in mind. you gets a memory of what she wanted to do as a child, softly smiling at where your thoughts have drifted.

“You must really like that color.”

A voice comes from you left, a laugh following. You turn to find San there, giving you a smirk. You laugh softly and tell him that you were just thinking about a childhood memory. “When I was little, I wanted to design my mom’s kitchen. When she asked me what I wanted to do with it, I had a solid plan. Bubblegum colored walls, with white paint dripping down and splats of bright colors randomly placed around. I wanted the walls to look like ice cream.”

He gives a big laugh and you feel your insides churn again, internally cursing yourself. “What even brought that to mind?”

You tell him that you’re here to pick out paint, but you needed to think of a theme first.. He nods his head as if telling her to continue. You tell him that you current pet project is to redo the kitchen and that it’s in desperate need of a remodel.

“Do you plan to paint first?” His question isn’t judging, merely asking as if he’s trying to help. You think for a moment before shaking your head. “I should probably replace the cabinets and counters first, a slight blush coming to the surface of your cheeks.

You should have thought of that. And why are you blushing? You don’t blush. What is going on?

“In that case, you’re probably going to want to look into what kind of style you want the cabinets you want. There’s many different styles. Same goes for the counters. So many different patterns for counter tops.”

He pauses for a moment, allowing you nod to let him know that you are paying attention. Honestly, you don’t think you could pull your attention away from him.

“Now, I don’t have pre built cabinets here, but I’m sure I could track down a catalog somewhere that you can look through.” You give him a shake of your head, telling him that he doesn’t have to go through that much trouble, you could just do a search online. He gives you a sideways smile, telling you that he’s going to do it anyway. The smile is so fucking adorable that it has you smiling with him.

“So, are you going to be doing this yourself or is your dad or boyfriend helping?” The mention of both your dad and a boyfriend makes your smile fall and your body stiffen a little.

“No, it’ll just be me.” He gives you a shallow nod, his smile falling slightly too. He quickly recovers, though, keeping his cheerful mood. “If you need any help, please just ask. I don’t mind helping at all.” You smile and tell him that you will definitely keep that in mind.

Mason runs up to San, telling him that someone has come into the store asking for him. San bends down and thanks his son with a kiss on the cheek and stands to take his hand. “If you need help with anything, just let me know.” You tell that you will and he gives you a wink as he heads to the front of the store.

You look at paint swatches for a while longer, lost in thought. Your stomach eventually begins to rumble and you make the decision to finally brave the diner. You make you way back to the door, throwing San and Mason a smile and a wave before leaving.

You walk to the diner, stopping to take a deep breath before making you way in front of the windows and to the door.

Pulling the door open, you’re hit with the smell of greasy burgers and fries and you sigh, suddenly overcome with a homey feeling. The diner holds many memories, both good and bad, and you figure it’s time to face them head on.

You slide into the booth in the back, it was always your favorite. You glances down, seeing the menu on the table, knowing that you don’t even have to look at it to know what you want.

A middle aged woman comes up to you and asks if you’re ready and you nod. You go with your favorite, a bacon cheese burger with extra pickles and a tea. Lou makes the best burgers. Before the waitress can leave, you ask her to tell Lou that it’s Y/N. The lady gives you a confused look before nodding and walking off to the kitchen.

You can hear the waitress yell Lou’s name before her voice lowers. You smirk slightly, counting down in you head. Only a second later, a tall man with a big belly comes barreling out of the kitchen area, throwing his apron on the counter.

You stand up from the booth, waiting beside it as the man makes his way to you. Lou greets you with a hug, telling you that he’s missed his best waitress. You laugh at his antics.

“Lou, I never actually worked for you.”

He brushes you off with a wave of his hand and asks how you’ve been. You tell him that you’ve been better, but you’ve also been worse. He gives you a sigh and a nod.

“You’ve always been so quiet about how you actually feel. Come on and tell Big Lou what’s going on.” You sit down, motioning for him to sit across from you. He holds his finger up in a hold on signal and walks back to the kitchen. You smile as he walks away, thinking back on your time knowing the gentle giant.

Lou has owned the diner for as long as you can remember, though you knows that it can’t be as long as it feels since the man is in his late 40s. He’s a man that looks gruff and unfriendly, but once you really get to know him, he’s a great person to have in your life.

Lou has always been your group of friends’ confidant in a sense, always listening, never talking unless asked. With you in particular, he always dragged what was wrong out of you. When you first boyfriend broke up with you, you went to the diner, obviously upset but refusing to talk about it. Lou told you that if you were going to sit and mope, could you at least take an order to a customer since he was short staffed.

You remember that you had looked at him like he was a crazy man and he just gave you a toothy grin. That had made you smile as well and you grabbed the plate and took it to the customer. That had started the tradition of you coming to the diner when you were sad and Lou giving you things to do to take your mind off of it. He always paid you out of the money out of the register, even though you told him that he didn’t have to. You always ended up telling him what was wrong and he always gave the best advice. It was an unusual friendship, but one you greatly treasured.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts by Lou sliding into the booth, your burger on a plate in one hand and a plate full of cheese fries in the other. “Lou, I didn’t order cheese fries,” your voice is teasing. He just tells you to hush and eat you food. You laugh a big laugh and start to dig in.

“Alright Peanut, spill the beans.”

You take a breath and repeat the story of your relationship with Joshua. You vent about your mother’s health and how you���re worried about her. You talk about the kitchen remodel. For the first time since your father’s death, you talk about it and how you handled it when it happened and how you’re handling it now. You mention your thoughts of going into his study, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it.

By the time you’ve finished spilling your guts to Lou, you’ve finished your burger and are starting to work on the fries. You flick your eyes up to Lou’s face, trying to gauge his reaction to the spew of information you’ve given him. His eyebrows are furrowed, obviously deep in thought. You stare at him for a moment, waiting patiently. He takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly. He looks at you with a serious expression before opening his mouth.

“So, you looking for a job?”

The question makes you burst out laughing, the first whole hearted laugh you’ve had since finding out Joshua was cheating on you, probably since you lost your father. You laugh until your stomach hurts and you have tears gathering in her eyes. Lou reaches across the table to pat you on the hand.

“You’re a strong woman and you’re gonna get through all of this and come out stronger on the other side. Now, what is this boy’s name and where does he live. It’s for science.”

You give his hand a slight slap and tell him to get back to work. He stands and gives you another hug and you move to go pay for you food. Lou moves in front of the register, shaking his head and pointing to the door. You giggle and shake your head, knowing this is a fight you won’t win and leave. As you reach the door, you hear Lou call your name. You turn back to face him, an eyebrow raised.

“Go into the room, Peanut.”

Deciding to head back home, it’s been hours since you left that morning and it’s well after lunch time, you make you way back to the hardware store to grab your mother’s car, noticing San’s car is gone.

You wonder if he is only open a few hours a day, but quickly dismiss the thought, deciding that it’s none of your business and continue on your way back home.

Turning into the driveway, you hear laughing from next door again, thinking that you’re glad your new neighbors are so cheerful. You hear a small voice calling your name and you turn to see Mason smiling wide and frantically waving.

You says his name with as much enthusiasm as he had said yours and start waving just as frantically. San stands in the background smiling at the two of you just standing in the middle of your yards just waving like crazy people. He steps forward with a “howdy neighbor” and you laugh and say hello.

San gives you a wink, saying that it looks like you’ll will be seeing each other a lot and you laugh and agree. Mason cuts in and asks if he and San can go have their lunch now, and San agrees, picking him up and saying goodbye to you before heading inside. You watch as they walk through their door, thinking that this man and his flirtatious nature are going to be problem.

Not entirely an unwelcome problem, but a problem regardless.

You step through you own door, calling out to your mother. You hear her voice coming from the back porch and you slip your shoes off and walk toward the back of the house. Your mother asks how your day has been, and you tell her about your time at the hardware store and lunch with Lou. She gives you a smile, telling you that she’s glad that you met with Lou, and saying that he always asks about you.

“I met the new neighbor, he also owns the hardware store.”

Your mother huffs out a laugh. “Yes, I know, dear. It is a small town after all.” You roll her eyes with a laugh. You mention San telling you that he would see if he could find a catalog with cabinets for you to look at, and your mother hums and nods, asking if you have figured out what you want to do with the kitchen. You shake your head. “San brought that up too, but I need to think about it for a bit. I’m gonna go look at the kitchen and see if something comes to me.”

You walk into the kitchen, glancing around while in thought. You do your best to envision what you want the kitchen to look like. After standing around just looking at the cabinets, it hits you. You look around, picturing what you want. You wanted dark gray cabinets with silver handles.

As you look around, the thought of making a little nook comes to your mind. Cabinets and drawers on the bottom, a counter, the area is boxed in, like a little alcove. On the very top, you envision putting potted plants. Your vision is sort of a forest-y vibe.

Smiling to yourself, you turn around and makes you way back to your mother. Before you leave the room, you make yourself a cup of coffee.

When you get back to your mother, you tell her about your idea for the kitchen and she gives you a smile and tells you that she loves it. You notice your mother getting tired and you offer her your arm and tell her she should take a nap.

She immediately disagrees, but you insist and tell her that you will make dinner and wake her up when it’s ready. Huffing, your mother relents and grabs your arm and pulls herself up. You helps her to her room and tell her to have a good nap and leave her room.

You stand outside of the door, looking at the door to your father’s study. Lou’s words float through your mind and you take a hesitant step forward. You step until you have your hand on the knob, but you quickly let go and turn around and head to your room to grab your laptop before going back downstairs.

Feeling like it’s a bit early to start on dinner, also knowing that your mother needs a nice nap, you grab yourself another cup of coffee, deciding to sit on the front porch this time. You tell yourself that it definitely isn’t with the hopes of seeing San, you just want a change.

You grab one of the wicker bucket chairs on the front porch, sitting in it with your laptop on your lap and your coffee on the small table to your left.

Opening your email, you find two more emails from Joshua. Taking a deep breath, you open the first one. You know that this is the first step in healing and moving on. The email is exactly what you expected it to be. Josh says he’s sorry and that he does love you and he wishes you would email him back.

You close out of the email, still feeling hurt, but not as bad as you had expected. Before you can open the second email, a voice calls out to you making you look up to see San.

“You’re drinking coffee this late in the afternoon?” he asks. You let a little giggle follow. “It’s never too late for coffee.” You have a teasing glint in your eye as you respond. “I think that I have to respectfully disagree.”

The two of you talk for a while, before you remember your vision for the kitchen. You tell San that you have an idea and he tilts his head and motions for you to continue.

You tell him about how you wants everything to look and he nods as you talks. After you finish, he tells you that it sounds like a really neat idea and he will look around for that catalog. You thank him and ask where Mason is. He tells you that he’s down for a nap.

“I know it’s a bit late for a nap, but I never let him sleep too long or he’ll be up all night.” You laugh and tell that him you couldn’t even imagine what it’s like to deal with a toddler that’s wide awake at three am and San laughs with you. You bite you lip and ask if his mother is watching him while he’s down. San stiffens a little, shakes his head. “No. It’s just me and Mason.” You remember you mother mentioning that he was a single father so you aren’t sure why you even asked.

“Oh God, I’m sorry. That was none of my business.” San assures you that it’s fine and that he and Mason are doing well on their own.

“It looks like it. From what little I’ve seen, you seem like a great dad.” He blushes a little and thanks you. You giggle at his sudden shyness and tell him that it’s not a problem. He checks the time on his phone.

“I better wake the little guy up.” You nod and he gives you a smile and turns to head back to his yard. You stop his movement with a call of his name and he turns to face you.

“Would you two want to join my mom and I for dinner? Think of it as a belated welcome to the neighborhood celebration.” San gives you a large smile. “I’ll ask Mason, though I’m positive he will agree. It would seem that he has already taken a liking to you.”

You giggle and tell him that you’ve taken a liking to Mason too. “If you guys decided to come, just knock on the door. It should be ready in a couple of hours.” He nods back at you and you end the conversation by telling him that you’ll make sure there’s more than coffee to drink and you open the door and step inside, San’s beautiful laughter ringing out behind you. You gently wake your mother, telling her that you have invited San and his son for dinner.

By the time dinner is ready and you take a shower, there’s a knock at the door. Since you’re already right by the door, you open it to find San and Mason smiling at you. Your eyes wander over San. 'Damn he looks good.' He's dressed casually in some jeans and a black tee while Mason is wearing sweatpants and a dinosaur shirt.

You squat down to the child's level. “Wow,” you say looking at the dinosaur on his shirt. “I love your shirt!” Mason smiles up at his dad before looking back at you. “What's your favoritest dinosaur?” you ask.

“Raptor!” he enthusiastically answers, even going as far to try to make a raptor noise. You give him a laugh. “Well, my favorite dinosaur is a Spinosaurus, but I don’t even know what they sound like!” you said, sounding impressed. “You sound like you know more about dinosaurs that I do.” Mason nods.

“I’m a dinosaur expert!”

His enthusiasm warms your heart and you stand, inviting them to come inside.

You show them the way to the kitchen. “Ma, this is San,” you say, formally introducing them. San smiles, stepping forward to shake her hand. “It's nice to officially meet you,” he says as Mason steps forward to proudly introduce himself before you could.

“And I'm Mason!”

Your mother smiles at him. “That's a lovely name, Mason. It's nice to meet you.” Mason thanks her with a smile which she returns before offering San two plates and asks him what they would like to drink.

“Just water is fine.” He makes Mason’s plate and gets him set up at the table before making his own. “Mom go ahead and sit down,” you say as you make her plate and place it front of her before you make your own.

You take the seat next to your mother, San is sitting to your other side. You all chat idly, talking about nothing in particular. San brings up the kitchen remodels and you perk up and start pointing and showing San where you wants the little alcove to go, not noticing your mother watching on fondly.

San listens before offering once again to help you, telling you that he can even draw up your idea for you to see before you starts on it. You give him a nod as your mother asks if he’s an artist and he laughs while shaking his head.

“No ma’am. Before having Mason I was in school studying to be an architect.” Your mother tells him that that is a good field. “If Y/N won’t accept your offer to help, I certainly will. If I left everything to her, this kitchen would be torn apart for months.”

Your cheeks burn, again with the blushing, telling you mother to hush with a slight slap to her shoulder. You all finish dinner, San offering to help clean up but you tell him absolutely not and that he should get Mason home since he’s falling asleep on your mother’s shoulder.

“You have a good point there,” he says while looking fondly at his son.

“I'll walk you out,” you announce before walking them to the door, San holding Mason. “Have a good night,” you say softly as San crossed the threshold. "You, too,” he says just as quietly.

“And thank you for dinner.”

“I'll have that drawing for your kitchen done soon,” he adds with a smile. You thank him and watch as they walk next door.

A few days later, you wake to your mother knocking on you door. You tell her to come in, rolling on to your side to face the door. Your mother smiles before coming to sit on the edge of your bed, running a hand through your hair. You hum in content, asking her mother what’s up.

“The rest of your things are here. The van is waiting outside. You also got a package this morning. I sat it on the table by the couch,” she says fondly as she smiles down at you.

She leaves and you quickly get dressed and brush your teeth, not wanting to keep the moving van waiting any longer. You step out of the door, greeting the man waiting by the van. He greets you back, opening the back of the van revealing a few boxes. You thank him and you start to help him unload the van.

“You need any help?”

You turn to see San standing not too far away, arms crossed as he leans on Mason’s swing set. “Yes please!”

Once all of the boxes are out of the van, you pay the driver his tip and the man leaves. San lifts a box and asks you where to take it. You momentarily get lost in admiring the way his arms flex as he grips the box before shaking you head and giving him directions to your bedroom. You take a box and follow him.

“You can just set it on the floor at the end of the bed,” you instruct and he does as you ask before you both move to get more boxes.

Once all of the boxes have been put in you room, you offer him some water and he accepts. As you makes her way to the kitchen, he tells you that he will be right back. You watch as he walks out the front door, not being able to stop yourself for look at his ass as he walks away and continue into the kitchen to get his glass of water ready.

San returns soon with a baby monitor and a piece of paper in his hands. “Mason is asleep and I should still be in range to hear him if he wakes up.” He lifts the monitor as he speaks. He hands you the piece of paper and you take it, looking a little confused.

Looking at it, it’s the design of the kitchen. You're happy that it looks exactly like what you pictured. You smile at him. “San it’s perfect! You’re really talented!” The tips of his ears turn slightly red, causing you to giggle softly.

You suddenly remember the package you mother told you about and perk up, telling San that you’ll be right back as you go to get it. You bring it back into the kitchen, setting it on the table and telling San he can sit if he wants. He joins you at the table, making sure to set his glass on a coaster.

You grab a knife and open the package carefully. Once you gets it open, you pull out her new phone. You sigh in relief, going as far as to kiss the box. San laughs from across from you.

“I haven’t had a phone for a while and I’m so glad to have one again.” He asks if you broke your or something, and you go quiet for a moment. “No, I didn’t break it. I left it with my ex boyfriend when I left him.”

“I'm so sorry,” San immediately apologizes. “I didn't mean to pry.”

You brush his apology off, telling him that it’s ok and that it’s been a little rough, but you’ll be ok.

“Do you mind if I ask what happened?” he asks and you nod.

“Joshua and I were together for two years when my dad died. I didn’t handle his death well and closed myself off,” you start to explain, San listening patiently. “And then when my mother’s health got worse, I went to his office to tell him that I would be coming back home for a little while to help get her situated,” you continue, hesitating as you reach the catalyst for your leaving.

“I found him and his assistant... together,” you continue, not noticing the way San's expression shifted. “Apparently, Josh couldn’t handle me being so down and unavailable so he found someone who was,” the last part comes out a little bitterly but you are beyond caring.

You had been fiddling with your phone the entire time you talk, trying to get it up and running. After you finish talking, you look up to see San’s jaw clenched and a serious look on his face. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. You don’t deserve that shit. You deserve a hell of a lot better than that.” You tell him that it’s ok and thank him, ending in a small cheer when you get your phone ready to go.

You sit in silence for a moment before you look up at San.

“Could I ask you something?” San looks up at you and nods.

“Where's Mason’s mom?”

You notice how San stiffens a little but he relaxes. “So, I moved from Korea to study abroad. I told you already, but I was majoring in architecture and I was very excited to start my new life here,” he starts to explain.

“I met Anora in one of my classes and we really hit it off and started dating. After a year and a half, we found out she was pregnant.” You could hear it in his voice, the way he spoke about his son with such adoration.

“I was thrilled, but Anora was far from happy. Even though she really didn’t want to have Mason, but she stayed.” You can hear the sadness in his voice. “She decided after four years that being a mother wasn’t the life she wanted and she left right before his fourth birthday, almost a year ago.”

You felt your heart break for them. San sighs and continues. “I just felt like we needed a new start so I bought the store and the house and here we are,” he finishes his story to your stunned silence.

You stay silent for a moment before apologizing. “So, how is Mason handling all of this?” Your voice is soft and a little hesitant. San makes a face before answering. “He’s handling it well. Even when Anora was around, it was still pretty much the two of us. I stayed with her, hoping I could get her to fully accept Mason, but that was useless.”

You apologize again and San tells you that it’s ok. “Honestly, I feel like we're better off.” You nod in agreement. “I think can agree with that. I said it before, but you’re doing an amazing job at being a dad. Mason is a very lucky kid.” San smiles, looking down at his hands resting on the table. “Thank you,” he says. “I really appreciates that.”

“You're welcome,” you reply and without thinking, you reach across the table to give his hand a squeeze. There’s a beat of silence before you take your hand back and San clears his throat and nods his head toward your phone.

“So, do I get to be the first person to get your new number?” You laugh and nod, taking his phone to type your number into his phone. After you exchange numbers, San pockets his device and looks up.

“I should probably get back to Mason, even though I haven’t heard a peep from the baby monitor.” You walk him to the door, thanking him for helping with the boxes.

“Really,” he starts. “It's no trouble. We're neighbors after all. And isn't that are neighbors for?” he adds with a wink.

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Over the next month or so, San helps you get what's needed for the remodel, at a discount even though yourefused, and on weekends thetwo of get to work in the kitchen while Mason plays around with your mother. Mason's presence in your lives seems to brighten her mother's days and you have become very fond of the boy yourself.

San is a complicated story. You’re also very fond of him, perhaps too fond you think sometimes, and he seems to be equally fond of you. When you aren't talking in person, you’re texting. You’ve spent every weekend for a month working on the kitchen, often times working close together.

San teaches you the basics, even though you already know them but he doesn't need to know that. He's even taught you about how to get the grooves you want in the wood on the side of the arch way of the alcove. The fact that he stood behind you, chest to you back, to show you flustered you a bit. (But we don’t really need to talk about that. Nope. No need to talk about how you could feel the hard planes of his chest against your back. Not at all.)

By the time the kitchen is finished, it's the middle December with Christmas just around the corner. You stand in the entrance of the kitchen with San, looking around at the space the two of you have created. You’re absolutely in love with it.

“San I love it. Thank you so much!” You wrap your arms around his neck in a hug, surprising him. He just stands there for a few seconds before wrapping his arms around you in return, giving you a squeeze. He slightly buries his face in your neck. “There’s no need to thank me. I really enjoyed doing this with you.” His breath on you neck makes a shiver run down your spine, but you try your best not to let it show.

You separate, slowly, and look at each other for a moment before a squeal interrupts your moment. Mason comes running into the kitchen, crashing into you and hugging your legs. You laugh as you stumble a bit and bend down to give the boy a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

You don’t see the way San's eyes shine as he watches you with his son, happy you’ve clicked so well. Mason directs his attention to San “Daddy did you ask her yet?” . San shakes his head, a slight blush on his cheeks as you quirks an eyebrow up. “So the Christmas festival is next Saturday. Would you like to come with us?” You eagerly nod your head, gaining a smile from San and a giddy squeal from his son.

Your week is filled with emails for work. Joshua still sends you emails, but you rarely open them, more often than not, completely ignoring their existence. Not because you’re still hurt, you’ve moved on, but because you genuinely do not care to know what he has to say.

Though, a particular subject line draws your attention.

An email sent the day before. “See you soon” and you quickly click the email, reading it in a slight panic. Joshua goes on about he misses you and he just wants you to talk to him and that he’ll be coming to see you that upcoming weekend, the same weekend as a date you'd set up with San.

Your first thought is to go to the diner to talk to Lou.

You quickly put your shoes on, opting to drive to get there faster. You pull in to the diner parking, rushing to get inside.

“Lou!” Your voice is louder than you meant for it to be, but you don’t pay any mind to it. You notice how they diners enjoying their food look at you, but at this moment you really don’t care. Lou comes out of the kitchen, looking a little annoyed at someone yelling in the diner. His face changes as soon as he sees you and the panicked look on your face. He quickly discards his apron, yelling into the kitchen that he'll be back soon and ushers you to your booth in the back.

He asks you what's wrong, trying to keep the worry in his voice unnoticeable. “I got an email from Joshua,” you rush to explain. “It said that he was coming here this weekend. Before you even ask, I’m not worried I’m going to go back to him. I’m over that part of my life and I have moved on from him, it's just...” You pause and Lou takes the opportunity to finish for you.

“You really like San and don’t want Joshua to ruin anything before it can really start.” You nod, knowing that coming to Lou was the right choice. “I’m going to the festival with San and Mason on Saturday.” You know that you’re wearing a massive smile, but you have no embarrassment about it. Lou smiles back and you.

“Have you told him about Joshua yet?” His question throw you off a little, even though you should have known he’d ask. “I’ve told him that Joshua is my ex and how things ended between.” Lou nods for a moment.

“And the email?”

You shake your head. “I saw the email and came straight to you.” He smiles widely and you can tell that your confession has made him happy. “Peanut, you’re a smart woman. You know what you need to do.” You nod, knowing that he’s right. He usually is, it’s why you come to him. You thank him with a hug and leave, deciding to walk to the hardware store to talk to San.

The bell dings as you walk in, and Mason yells your name and runs up to you. You smile down at him, picking him up and giving him a kiss on the cheek before asking where his dad is. He wraps one arm around your neck and points with the other, telling you that San is on the paint aisle.

You thank him with another kiss on the cheek as you set him down. You make your way to San, feeling a little nervous as you watch him look through paint swatches. “San.” You try to keep your voice from wavering, but you aren’t sure you succeed.

He turns to face you, his face breaking out in a wide smile. “I was looking at swatches, trying to decide what color would go best with the kitchen.” You can feel yourself smile, despite the anxiety flowing through your body.

“We need to talk,” you start, internally cursing yourself as you see a flash of panic cross San's face. “It's not like that!” you continue quickly. “But it is important.” San nods, searching your face, no doubt noticing how serious you look. “Okay,” he nods slowly as he leads you to his office while he calls out to Mason to tell him to go into the break room and play so he knows where he is.

“You can sit there if you want.” He points to the chair in front of his desk as he moves behind the desk, grabbing the chair there and bringing it to sit beside you, facing you. “What’s wrong?”

You take a deep breathe before speaking, trying to calm your nerves. “I was looking at my email today and when I noticed an email from Joshua.” You can see his jaw tense, but he says nothing, letting you continue. “He’s coming here this weekend.” Your voice drops in volume, almost sounding small.

San is quiet for a moment, seemingly in deep thought. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet, matching the feel of your small voice. “Do you still love him? Are you planning to leave and go back with him?”

You feel sad that the thought even crosses his mind. You obviously haven’t been as clear showing your feelings as you thought you were. “No. I really like you, San and I don’t plan to leave. There was a time in my life when I wanted to escape this town, but I don’t want to do that anymore.”

You can see him visibly relax as he breathes put a sigh of relief and telling you that he feels the same and that you can deal with Joshua’s visit together if you wants or he can let you handle it. You don’t say anything, only thanking him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, telling him that you should head back home.

The closer it gets to Christmas, the stronger the urge to go into your father’s study gets. You talk to San about it as you text and he tells you that it's ok to still need time, but it's also ok to want to go into your father’s favorite place. He once again offers his help, telling you can be there for moral support if you needs and though you don’t tell him, you think that San is a great man and thank him.

Saturday comes quick and even though you’re anxious about Joshua’s arrival, you’re also excited about spending the evening with San and Mason. By dusk, Joshua still hasn't arrived and you hope that maybe he has changed his mind. You gets ready for the festival, deciding to wear jeans and a sweater.

A knock on the door has you almost sprinting down the stairs your thoughts swirling. You feel like a teenager waiting for her prom date. Opening the door to find San and Mason both giving you big smiles, you smile back and give them both hugs, unintentionally hugging San a little harder. “You ready?” San’s voice is light and cheerful and it makes your heart flutter. You give a nod and call out to your mother, letting her know that you’re leaving.

The festival is simple, a few decorations and booths with games and food trucks. Of course Lou has a stand with all of his best dishes and hot cocoa and coffee. The three of you stop by and you give Lou a hug, thanking him again in a whisper. He squeezes you in return, his way of telling you that you don’t need to thank him.

You grab a cup of coffee as San grabs both him and Mason a cup of cocoa each. As you reach into your wallet, preparing to pay, you notice San moving quickly to hand Lou money. Lou scoffs and tells him that there’s no way he’s letting them pay. You both try to argue, but Lou shuts you both down with his trademark eyebrow raise.

After getting your drinks, you walk around the festival a bit, stopping to play games when Mason finds one he wants to try out. By try out, he means that San has to play and try to win the toy Mason wants.

You hear your phone going off and you’re quick to grab it in case your mother needs you. You do find a text from you mom.

Mama: Honey, Joshua just came by looking for you. I didn't tell him where you were but just be on the lookout for him

Your breath catches, drawing San’s attention and you show him the message instead of speaking, not wanting to clue Mason in that there is a problem. All San does is grab your hand and gives it a tight squeeze before he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer with a kiss on the top of your head.

You walk around a bit more, stopping to get Mason a corn dog when you hear your name being called. You stiffen. You knew that voice and would recognize it anywhere.

You're brought back to reality by San giving your shoulder a squeeze, silently letting you know that he’s there if you need him. The two of you turn around while Mason is preoccupied with his food and find Joshua standing and glaring at San.

San looks unfazed, other than the tightness in his jaw. Joshua steps forward, eye San before turning to look at you.

"Y/N, can we talk?” You notice how his eyes flicker over to San once more. "In private?” he adds.

You lean further into San's side, taking a deep breath and filling your nostrils with the scent of San’s cologne, which calms you a little.

“Whatever it is, you can say it say right here.”

Joshua narrows his eyes, heaving out a sigh before speaking.

“Fine,” he says softly. “You left me no choice. Since you refuse to answer my messages, I came here to see you.” You say nothing, letting him get it all out.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, I’ll say it a million times if that’s what you want. I miss you so much. You’re all I can think about. Please let me make it up to you. I know I can do it if you’ll just let me.”

You stare at him for a moment, not saying anything. “No.” He looks taken aback and you take the opportunity to continue. “I don’t love you. I don’t hate you either. I don’t really feel anything for you. I’m happy where I am. I’m happy having San by my side.” San acknowledges you statement with a long kiss to you temple.

Joshua goes to take a step forward, only to be cut off by Lou. “I think the lady has said what she needs to say. It’s time for you to leave.” Joshua looks at you one more time, searching your face for any change of your mind before he begrudgingly leaves.

After the confrontation with Joshua, San decides that it's time for you to leave and he gathers Mason, who throws a tiny tantrum before listening to his father and taking his hand. You walk in silence for a moment, hands intertwined until San breaks the silence. “You ok?” You smile and squeezes his hand, looking into his eyes. “I’m great.”

When you get back to your house, you’ve accepted it as your home now and you’re proud to call it that, you ask San if he can help you with one more thing and he immediately agrees. You all enter the house, Mason immediately calling out to your mother.

“Nana! Where are you?” Both you and San freeze, eyes wide. This is the first time Mason has called your mother that. Your mother steps out of the kitchen, equally surprised, but she quickly schools her expression and opens her arms catching Mason in her arms as he jumps to her. You look at San, tying to gauge his reaction, only to find a soft smile on his face and he watches your mother with his son. You squeeze his hand and tilt you head toward the staircase and he follows you up the stairs.

You walk to the end of the hall, standing in front of the door of you father’s study. San kisses your temple before speaking. “Take your time, love. There’s no rush.” With one last deep breath, you turn the knob and open the door and you step inside while San waits in the opening of the door.

The room looks the same as it always has. Books are tucked neatly on the bookcase, your father’s large desk in the center of the room. You walks over to the desk, running your fingers over the top of the desk slowly.

There’s a thin layer of dust and it’s the first time you have every seen dust on the desk. Your father always kept his study perfectly clean. You look around at all of the pictures on the wall. There are pictures of your parents on their wedding day. A picture of your dad with his parents.

You notice a single frame on the desk and you carefully pick it up. It's a picture from the day you were born, your father holding you with a bright smile and tears in his eyes. Your own eyes start to teat up and you feel arms wrap around your waist from behind, San moving to prop his chin on her shoulder.

“It’s ok to cry if that’s what you need to do. I’m so proud of you for coming in here. That took a lot of strength. My strong girl.” Your stomach flips at him calling you his and you turn to kiss his check, San turning to face you at the same time and your lips meet The kiss is sweet and gentle, just barely there.

San turns to to face you completely, his hand coming up to cup you check before giving you another slow kiss as your arms wrap around him. The kiss only last a moment, Mason’s footsteps coming up the stairs making you pull apart.

He stops at the door of the study, quickly asking San if he can stay the night with Nana and San looks at you with a lustful glint in his eye. “If it’s ok with your Nana, I don’t mind.” The sound of San calling your mother Mason’s nana makes your heart skip a beat.

You follow Mason down the stairs, listening as he asks if he can stay the night. Your mother doesn’t even hesitate. “Of course you can, my little monster.” Mason laughs and hugs her legs with a squeal. She turns to you and San, immediately noticing your intertwined hands. She smiles at the two you and gives you a slight nod of her head.

San tugs on your hand gently, looking at you with both lust and care as he leads you out of the door and across the lawn to his front door. He quickly unlocks it, letting you go in first. As soon as he steps through the door, his lips are on yours and his arms are around you.

You fist his shirt, pulling him as close as you can get him. It feels like the two of you are kissing forever, like the only oxygen you need is each other’s breath. San’s hands slide down to your hips, pulling your further against him, moaning slightly when you bump into his already hardening cock.

He pulls away, eyes flickering between yours. “Do you want to go to my room?” You aren’t sure you’ve ever nodding so fast as you take his hand and follow him.

You're able to take a brief look around San’s room before his lips are back on yours. His kisses are soft, gentle as his hands slowly find your waist. He tugs you closer to him, it's obvious he can't seem to get you close enough. His hands slide down, firmly kneading your ass.

You moan against his mouth, giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. He takes the chance he's been given, immediately deepening the kiss. His wet muscle dances with yours, slow and passionate. He steps forward, softly pushing you backwards until the backs of you legs hit his mattress, pushing you further back to lie flat.

He separates from you long enough for you to scoot until you're fully on his bed, him immediately climbing on top of you and connecting your lips again. One hand rests on your hip as his other cups your face. He pulls back, just far enough to speak against your lips.

“You're so pretty.” His voice is a whisper, but you still manage to hear him, and you give him a smile and peck his nose. “So are you.” He smiles, rubbing his nose against yours as his hands fall to the hem of your sweater.

“Can I?” You murder a soft ‘yes’ and he doesn't hesitate to lift it over your head. He stares at you in silence and you feel like you should be self conscious, but you aren't. You just let him admire you.

“Gorgeous.”

You aren't sure he meant for you to hear his words, so you don't say anything in return, just let out a whine, prompting him to snap out of his daze. He brings his hands up to cup your breasts over your bra, his touch firm but still soft. He looks up to your face, quirking an eyebrow up and you nod and sit up, allowing him to reach behind you and unclasp what's between him and your bare skin.

He flings the fabric over his shoulder, not even bothering to see where it lands. His hands come back to your chest, gripping you once more. San gives your nipples attention, pinching them in between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to arch your back with a soft moan. The sound of your pleasure makes him let out a moan himself, obviously enjoying that you're enjoying his actions.

Leaning down, he wraps his lips around one of your perked buds, his tongue immediately making its presence known with a flick. His hand continues to massage your other breast.

After a moment, he switches sides. “San. Please. Need you.” Your voice is in a quiet whine, as much as you enjoy what he's doing, your core throbs with need. He pulls back, releasing your nipple with a pop. His eyes are blown out with last, but his gaze is still soft and caring.

He slides his hands down your body, finding the button of your pants and flicking it open. He backs off the bed, immediately falling to his knees as he grabs your pants by the hem, slowly pulling them down.

The tension in the air is thick and you can tell that he's enjoying the teasing nature in which he undresses you. Your pants find the floor like your sweater and bra. His lips are on your ankle before you realize what is happening, slowly kissing up your leg.

He places a barely there kiss on your clothed core before kissing down your other leg, only to stick the tip of his tongue to your skin and lick his way back up to your hip. The unexpected action causes you to shiver with want, and you look down at San only to find him staring back at you with a smirk.

He grabs at your panties, continuing his slow pace in pulling them down. Part of you wishes he would hurry, but the greater part is enjoying the build up. Once your panties are off, he once again takes a moment to just look at you.

Slowly, he brings a finger to your core, sliding it from your hole up to your clit. You let out a soft moan, his groan coming not long after. “Look at that, baby. You're soaking. I've barely done anything, love. Is this all for me?” His words shoot a jolt through your body, causing your core to throb even harder.

“All for you, San. All yours.” Your words seem to spur him into action as he leans forward, his tongue making the same movement his finger had. Your moan is louder this time, his own moan right against your pussy has you bucking up into his face.

His hands find your thighs, wrapping around them to speak you open for him. He brings the tip of his tongue to circle your throbbing bud while your hand finds its way into his hair. He hums against you, his way of telling you that he approves of what you're doing and you give a slight tug. You can see his hips buck against the mattress, prompting you to give one more tug.

He dives into you, sliding his tongue up and down your pussy a few times before coming back to your clip for a brief moment before repeating. Your moans echo throughout the room as brings his finger to your entrance, sliding on in slowly. Your hips buck on their own as he pulls back out, a second finger joining as he slides back in.

His mouth is working hard against you and his fingers search for a moment before they find what he's looking for. A loud moan rips from your throat as he pushes against the spongy part inside of you. “Right there, baby?” You only manage a nod and he goes back to eating your can't, doubling his efforts as his fingers speed up. Your mind is swirling as your orgasm builds. No one has ever been able to work you up this quickly.

You're babbling now, vaguely aware of what you're saying. “Feels s'good. Please. Please.” He pulls back just enough to mumble against your core. “Come on, angel. Let go. Cum for me.” The vibrations against you coupled with his already fucked out voice causes the dam inside you to burst as you coat his fingers. He works you through your orgasm, fingers slowing down as your high fades. You look down to find him staring at you in awe. You mumble for him to climb back onto the bed and he immediately grants your wish.

Your hands move with purpose as you pull him to you, grabbing his shirt and ripping it from his body. Your breath catches as you look at the ridges and planes of his chest. He's well built, looking like a man cut from marble. “Fuck.” The words come out breathy and as you look back to his face, you can see a slight blush.

You place a soft kiss on his lips as you push him gently to lie on his back. He offers no resistance, letting you move him as you please. You spread his legs enough for you to fit in between his thighs as you bend down to kiss down his throat. He lets out a soft whine when your lips find his chest and you take the opportunity to give him a slight bite and his hips buck upwards. You can feel his hardened length against you and your core gushes with a fresh wave of wetness.

Your hands find his jeans, making quick work of getting them off of him, pulling his underdogs down with them. His cock hits his stomach and for a moment you're in awe. He's above average, but not huge. Long and thick, but you can't help but think that's it's the prettiest dick you've ever seen. His voice draws you out of your thoughts. “Baby. Please do something. I'm dying here.” You give him a slight chuckle, cupping his election with a gentle squeeze. His moan is load and oh so beautiful.

You scoot yourself down until your face meets his cock, your tongue peeking out to give his tip a kitten lick. This time he whines, obviously not able to take the slow treatment he had given you. You lick from his balls to his tip slowly, circling your tongue around the mushroom head of his cock.

Without missing a beat, your mouth engulfs his length, sliding down as far as you can take. Your hand wraps around what your mouth can't fit and you slowly start to bob your head. Just as yours had done, his hand finds your hair, giving a slight pull and you moan around him.

His hips buck again, causing his tip to hit the back of your throat and you hold back a gag. You let him slowly buck into your mouth as words tumble from his mouth. “Oh god. Fuck. So warm. Feels so good.” You pull off of his length as his thrusts get faster and he whines at the loss of contact.

You sit back up on your heels, watching the way his chest rises and falls heavily. You make eye contact as you speak, wanting to see his every reaction to your words.

“Condom?” He scrambles to his knees, reaching into the drawer of his bedside table and pull out a foil packet. He rips it open with his teeth, moving to place the rubber around himself. You stop him before he can, taking it from him and sliding it slowly down his length yourself. His groan comes from the back of his throat.

Once the condom is snug around his cock, you push him back down, climbing on top of him. You slide his cock up and down your pussy, getting him slick with your juices. On the slide back down, you push his tip into you.

Your moans come simultaneously, making a beautiful song of pleasure. His hands find your hips as you rotate them, letting your walls adjust. “Wait. Baby, give me a minute.” His eyebrows are furrowed as he pants. After a moment, he gives your hips a squeeze, letting you know that you can move.

Lifting your hips, you rise and fall back down slowly, enjoying the way he feels inside of you. You keep your pace slow, wanting to savor every moment of pleasure. The more you move the more San whines. His hands are clawing at your hips, his nails leaving little marks on your skin. He's babbling again and you clench around him.

“So fucking good. Fit me perfectly. Like you were made for me.” You lean forward, placing your lips on his as your pace increases slightly. At this angle, the tip of his cock nudges the place you need. It isn't long before your hurling towards your second orgasm, San's name repeatedly falling from your lips. With one thrust from San, your falling over the edge with a moan.

San makes quick work of flipping you over, his length never leaving your core. His pace is faster than you had expected, but his strokes hit deep. You've had no time to recover from your orgasm, but the sensitivity you're feeling only improves the way you feel. San is letting out of string of grunts as his balls hit against your ass. Your nails are digging into his back as you hold on to him.

“You're so perfect. So glad I get to have you like this. Wanted this for a while. Dreamt about it.” It's like he can't stop talking and you can't say that it bothers you. His hips start to stutter as the tension builds in your belly.

“San. I'm gonna come again. Cum with me. Please, baby. Please.”

Your words seems to have the desired effect as he delivers one last hard thrust, your name leaving his mouth in a groan as he fills the condom. Your high hits you at the perfect time, syncing with his. He falls on your body for a moment, panting heavily as you both come down.

He slowly pulls out of you with a wince, looking down to see your cunt still slightly pulsing. He gives a sweet kiss to your clit, giggling and apologizing as you whine and try to back away from him. You watch as he walks to his bathroom, coming back with a warm cloth to clean you up. He takes great care to get you well cleaned. “You want to take a shower?” You nod and make grabby hands at him and he lets a loud laugh and connects your hands to pull you up gently.

The shower is filled with soft touches and even softer kisses as you clean yourselves. Once the water is turned off and you've dried yourselves off, San offers you one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers, which you eagerly accept.

You crawl into bed, finding yourself in his arms immediately. It's quiet, but comfortable. “So. You're mine now, right?” The fact that he even has to asks makes you giggle a little. Tilting your head up to face him, you place a kiss to his jaw.

“Yeah. I'm yours.”

Christmas the next morning is spent in your mother’s house, the four of you enjoying dinner and opening presents. And finally in your life, everything feels right.

[ONE YEAR LATER]

A year flies by, bringing new challenges and experiences and you're beyond happy. You watch as Mason plays on the floor by the tree with your mother, who's helping him unwrap his presents.

“Mommy, look!”

Your heart soars at the boy calling you mom. You can feel San smiling as he stands behind you, arms around your waist. As you talk to Mason about his new toy, you don't notice the look your mother gives your boyfriend. Behind you, he smiles, slowly reaching into his pocket, trying not to draw your attention. Your mother smiles wide as she watches San pull the ring box out of his pocket slightly.

[bingbongsupremacy]

Closure Pt. 3

I'm taking requests! Please send you ideas in! I'd love to write them!

Pairing: Steve Harrington x plus size!reader

Warnings: swearing, anger, idk what else

Series Summary: You never knew Steve could be so shallow. When he leaves you to date Nancy Wheeler, you're left with a pain you thought he'd never leave with you. Maybe you should've stayed friends.

Part Summary: Robin invites you over for a small get-together before you leave, little did you know Steve was also invited.

*Not Proof Read* Stranger Things Masterlist

Based on Taylor Swift's Song Closure. This was a request. I tried to make everything as general as possible. Pls let me know if missed something ty. Also Eddie did not die in this.

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

*****

It's just an hour. And it'll be nice to see everyone again. I mean, I haven't seen Robin in years. I wonder whatever happened with Vickie.

I press the doorbell of the older-looking apartment. A loud ring echoes from the other side of the door. Immediately, it's opened by an excited-looking Robin.

" You made it! " She grins, pulling me into a tight hug. Her hair's grown slightly but she still looks the same as she did in high school. " We have so much to catch up on. I haven't seen you in forever. "

" Of course I made it, Rob. I wouldn't miss this for the world. " I smile at the girl.

She leads me into the apartment, loud voices immediately flooding my ears. " Make yourself at home. There's snacks and games in the living room. And Eddie brought beer. There's a few people I invited that you might not know. I hope that's okay. "

" That's alright. I don't mind. "

" Well well well, look what the cat dragged in. " Eddie's playfully acts annoyed. His hands are on his hips, a pout on his lips. His arms support multiple new tattoos, some of which look fresher than others. " I thought you died. "

I roll my eyes. " Still alive and kicking. I see you're still a drama queen. "

Eddie gasps. " Am not. "

" It's good to see you, Ed. " I grin while hugging the slightly older man. " How's the band? "

" Better than ever. " Eddie pulls out a folded sheet of paper from his black jeans. He opens it, revealing this band logo on the very top. " We're playing multiple venues now. And we've been asked to go meet with some exec hot shots for a record label. " His excitement is evident in his tone. " We fucking did it, Y/N. "

" I'm so proud of you! "

The doorbell rings and Robin jumps up from her spot on the couch to answer the door.

A few muffled voices make their way down the hallway as Robin brings the guests further into apartment.

" What about you? What've you been up too? Livin' good up in the big city? " Eddie asks. His arms are splayed out comfortably on the top of the sofa behind him. His legs are lazily crossed out in front of him, his posture very casual.

I don't get to respond. A voice behind me grabs my attention.

" Y/N? "

I know that voice.

Steve.

I turn my head to see the man I'd been hoping to avoid for days now.

Fuck.

Steve's eyes are wide in confusion. He looks slightly older but still just as attractive as he did all those years before. His hair is still styled the same, only slightly longer.

" Steve? " I mumble in surprise.

" You two know each other? " Robin asks, a smile on her face. She has no idea about us.

I nod stiffly. " We did a long time ago. "

A small movement behind Steve's shoulder grabs my attention. Nancy Wheeler peeks over his shoulder, curious to who I am.

" Oh my, Y/N? " Nancy smiles warmly.

Even better.

" Hey, Nancy. " I greet politely. Moments ago this apartment felt fun and casual. Now it feels absolutely suffocating.

I thought I was done with Steve. I threw his shit away. Why is this bugging me so much? He's a stranger now.

Then why does he feel so familiar?

The doorbell rings again and Eddie lets out a grown. " How many people did you fucking invite, Robin? At this rate the whole towns gonna be here. "

" Shut up. It's the pizza. I'll be right back. " Robin rolls her eyes before disappearing into the hall.

" Didn't you two used to date? " Eddie asks out of the blue, pointing to Steve and I.

" Uh, yeah. " Steve nods awkwardly.

Eddie looks between Nancy and Steve. " Shit, you two dated too! "

Ten points to fucking sherlock over here. Really solving all the worlds greatest mysteries.

" Man, that's awkward. "

" You think? " I glare over at him. Of course, he had to bring that shit up, didn't he.

The room grows quiet. Nancy and Steve sit side by side on the ground across from Eddie and I. A small brown coffee table separates us, thankfully putting some distance between everyone.

" Who fucking died in here? Why are you guys so quiet? " Robin asks while carrying the pizzas in. " This is supposed to be a game night, guys. Not a sit-awkwardly-on-the-floor-in-weird-silence-and-stare-at-the-floor night. " She places the pizzas on an empty area on the coffee table. " I'm gonna grab some plates and napkins. When I come back I want everyone talking. " She playfully orders.

" So..." Eddie drags out the word awkwardly. He reaches into his pants and pulls out a small baggie filled with long white rolls. " Anyone want some weed? "

" You're not smoking weed in my apartment Munson! " Robin shouts from the kitchen.

This is going to be a long night.

*******

" I'm gonna go get some air. " I take one last swig of my beer before standing up.

Who knew Eddie and Robin were so competitive when it came to twister?

They don't seem to hear me over their loud trash-talking. Robin cackles loudly as she manages to contort her body somehow to get her arm onto a green circle. " It's alright, old man. You can give up now. We all know you've got fragile bones. "

" Shut the fuck up. You're just salty I kicked your ass at uno. " Eddie's voice dies down as I make it outside.

Outside is cold and quiet but it's a nice change from the loud environment inside. It's pretty late. Everyone is tucked in their houses, away from the streets.

I'd spent the last two hours debating if I should go home. Every time I'm about to say I need to go, thoughts about how I wouldn't need to leave if I didn't still feel sad about Steve start to pop up.

" Can we talk? "

" What's there to talk about, Steve? You sent me a letter. I read it. We're fine. " I reply stiffly.

" You never replied. " Steve steps out further onto Robins' front porch. He leans against the railing a step's length away from me.

I don't bother to look at him. " I didn't feel like it. I'm not into the whole letter thing. You know that. "

I've never been a fan of writing letters. It feels less personal than talking to someone else in person or on the phone.

Steve lets out a small sigh. From the corner of my eye, I spot the steam of his breath from the cold pre-winter air. " I'm sorry. "

" You broke my heart, Steve. " Anger bubbles in my chest. " You fucking broke it. Why did it take you so long to write to me? Why didn't you try to call? " I look over at him.

" I didn't know where you lived. You moved across the country, how was I supposed to get in contact with you? " Steve asks, his eyes staring into mine.

" That's bullshit Steve and you know it. If you really fucking wanted to you would've tried to get ahold of me. I was still at home the entire summer after graduation. You could've asked my mom for my number or-fuck even my address. You had options and you chose not to do anything. How am I supposed to believe you? " I feel my face heat up from anger.

" Admit it, Steve. You sent me that fucking letter because you feel guilty. You're ashamed of yourself. You wanted to smooth things over, make yourself feel better. Well, I'm sorry, but I'm just not ready to pretend nothing ever happened yet. It wasn't just the fact that you broke up with me, Steve. We were friends. Best friends, at least I thought so. You just threw our friendship away. " I let out a bitter laugh. " And the ironic part was you were worried that you telling me how you felt would ruin our friendship. No, you did that when you let other people's opinions into our relationship. "

" I was a fucking coward, Y/N! What do you want me to say? " He asks desperately. " I lived off of the opinions of others and that ultimately cost me the best fucking thing that happened to me. " He grips the cold railing in front of us tightly. " I lost you because I was too scared to be myself and I will never forgive myself because of that. " He sighs. " I don't want you to forgive me, Y/N. I just want to know you're okay. "

" I'm not okay, Steve. I-I'm so conflicted. " I gesture to the man. " I still love you and I'm so fucking angry about it. I shouldn't still love you but I do. "

" I still love you to. " Steve replies honestly. " I haven't stopped thinking about you. I wonder what you're up to and who you've become all the time. "

I miss him too.

" What do we do? " I ask after a moment of silence.

Steve shrugs. He looks defeated. " I don't know. "

" Are you and Nancy dating again? " I ask quietly.

Steve shakes his head. " What? No. We're just friends. We haven't dated since the end of Senior Year. She's with Jonathan. "

We fall into another silence.

" I'm not ready to date you again. I don't know if I ever will be. " I begin.

Steve nods sadly. He shoves his hands in his pockets. " I completely understand. "

" But I'm willing to try to be friends again. Only friends. "

Steve's eyes light up. " Really? " A small smile of relief breaks onto his face. " Thank you, Y/N. Thank you so much. I promise this is going to better than last time. I'll treat you better than last time. "

" This doesn't mean your forgiven, it just means I'm willing to try. "

Steve nods. " I get that. I won't let you down. "

Is this stupid?

Probably.

Will I get my heart broken again? I don't know.

But we only live once and who knows where this could go. Maybe Steve has changed. Maybe he's a better man.

I guess we'll see.

Steve Harrington, please don't break my heart again. Please.

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog@queen-apple24

[mint-yooxgi]

Lethal Protectors - Yandere!Vampires!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Vampire AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 6,410

Warnings: Violence and blood. Implied stalking. Past trauma and mentions of a physical assault which almost need in death. Scars. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Well, I never expected this to become this long, but it's based on a dream I had during a nap I took last night lol. Not much, but I hope you enjoy! As always feedback is greatly appreciated!

The trip back to your hometown was meant to be short. Nothing more than a pitstop, really. Say hello to your family, maybe even some friends, then be on your way again. You never expected it to turn into a full month. A month filled with people constantly telling you to stay away from them.

Who were they, and why did the eight of them always suddenly seem to miraculously appear around you whenever you were out? 

You’d go to the store for some food, and suddenly Yeosang and Seonghwa are bickering in the next aisle over about the prices for cereal, while San and Wooyoung gather produce. Other times, you’d run out to grab coffee in the mornings for yourself and your family, only for Hongjoong and Yunho to appear in line behind you, chatting you up about the weather the town has been having lately. You’ve ran into Mingi and Jongho more times than you can count at different thrift stores, that you’re starting to think they might be stalking you.

The odd thing is, growing up in such a small town, you think you’d remember them. It’s not that they aren’t nice people, or so they seem. You just trust your neighbour, Missus Benson who you’ve known for years over eight complete strangers.

Then, the rumours started. Your old school delinquent who’s always had it in for you wanted to ‘talk’. You know exactly what that’s code for, so you started going out less and less, being cautious to always go out with either your parents, or someone you knew to avoid running into an ‘old friend’.

Only, you weren’t the only one that noticed.

Over the past month, whether you choose to acknowledge it or not, you have been growing closer to those eight mysterious men. Yunho and Wooyoung never fail to make you laugh, or crack a smile, even unwillingly. Seonghwa and Jongho are always there with recommendations for natural remedies for sudden aches and pains. Both Hongjoong and Mingi quite enjoy talking to you about music, a topic you never really got to discuss in full with any of your other friends, and both San and Yeosang are great at giving advice, even subtly.

It’s a cold Thursday morning when you coincidentally run into Yunho at the coffee shop. He looks concerned, but as soon as you bring it up, it’s like his expression does a one-eighty.

“Just worried about you, is all.” He smiles politely. “Haven’t seen you around lately.”

The corner of your lips twitch upwards as you tense, “Been busy.”

“Is everything okay?” His brow furrows, concern immediately washing over his features.

“Yeah…” Movement outside the coffee shop draws your attention, and you’re quick to head towards the side entrance. “Sorry, Yun, I’ve really got to go. Talk to you later?”

The sound of the front bell jingling is synonymous with the side door slamming shut, the tall male standing there as he blinks in shock. Clearly something isn’t right, and when he turns back around to face front, he thinks he gets his answer.

***

It’s a misty Monday morning when you find yourself beginning to feel too cooped up in the house. Your whole mind is wound, and every little thing seems to set you off - your mother not muting her phone when she watches funny little videos, the sound of your father’s typing on his laptop. Hell, even the sound of the dog’s nails on the floor running back and forth as your sister plays with him is grating on your every nerve. 

Which is why when the mid-afternoon rolls around, you decide that you’ve had enough.

“I’m going for a walk!” You call out, not even waiting for a response as you sling your jacket over your one shoulder, and step outside.

The front door slams shut behind you, finalizing the sudden decision. You’ll take your chances traversing the familiar forest across the street. Ryder doesn’t live in this immediate neighbourhood, anyways, and it’s far too dreary a day for him to be out and about. At least, in your opinion.

Sliding your jacket onto your arms, you’re quick to cross the street. The area seems particularly quiet, but with the grey clouds hanging in the sky, the mist clinging to the air, you understand why.

A small smile tugs at your features as you pause just before the one entrance to the forest. It’s been a while since you went traversing through the woods like you were a kid again, and you can already feel the calming effects of the crisp air cooling your every sense.

Without another thought, you begin.

You walk your old path twice before deciding to sit yourself down at your favourite spot, just beside the small pond in the middle of the woods. A fallen tree provides a natural bench as you stare out across the water, some ducks swimming across the surface. 

You can hear the sounds of natural all around you: leaves rustling as the wind drifts through the trees, bugs humming in the background while animals forage for food. Every now and then, you can hear feet shuffling in the underbrush as a couple or two walk by with their dog, holding hands and smiling at you politely as you turn to say hello.

It’s been a while since you’ve fully submersed yourself like this, and to say you’ve missed it would be a huge understatement. Getting out of the house, especially on a day like today, a day with weather you’ve always been fond of, has done wonders for your mood. Enough so, that you practically forget all about Ryder for the moment. Or, at least, he doesn’t worry you as much as before. Really, what can he do to you now that he didn’t back then?

The sound of approaching footsteps trudging along the path draws your attention. Turning reveals a girl about your age with shoulder length golden locks hanging in loose curls approaching you. The closer she gets, the more you realize how blue her eyes are, and just how familiar she looks.

Her head tilts as she pauses in her steps, a curious call of your name falling from your lips. “Do you remember me?”

You smile, standing back to your feet as you face her. “Of course I do!”

She mirrors your expression as you both hug each other.

“It’s good to see you again, Gabrielle!” You comment, pulling away from her for the moment. “I haven’t seen you since elementary school.”

“You look so different!” She chuckles. “Then again, I imagine so do I.”

You nod, sharing a small laugh with her.

“I know we weren’t really close in school, but would you like to walk with me for a bit and catch up?” She offers, motioning down that all too familiar path that leads to the side roads.

“Sure!” You readily agree, already falling into step beside her.

The two of you talk for about an hour, sharing some details of your lives and what you’re up to now-a-days. Only, you see her brow furrowing slightly in worry as you approach that little pond area you first met once more.

“You mentioned meeting some new faces when you came back for a visit,” she chews on her bottom lip. “Did I hear you right when you said you’ve met Yunho?”

Your own brow furrows slightly, “Yeah. What about him?”

“He and his friends are no good.” She warns you, suddenly grabbing your arms in her hands. “You need to stay away from them.”

“Why does everybody keep saying that?” You shake your head, not quite understanding their concern. “They all seem like nice guys to me.”

“They showed up in town about two years ago, right around the time those animal attacks started happening.” She explains. “So many people have been run out of town, or have left because of them.”

“The guys, or the animal attacks?” You inquire, this being the first time you’ve heard anything about there being any sort of animal attacks nearby.

“It doesn’t matter,” she shakes her head. “They’re dangerous people. Don’t go anywhere near them.”

“No, the person I need to stay away from is Ryder.” You comment, gently removing her hands from your arms. “He still seems to hold a grudge towards me since high school.”

“He followed you to high school?” She blinks, almost dumbfounded, at you.

Quickly, you shift your head from side to side, as if checking if the coast is clear. You’ve had this sneaking suspicion that you’re being watched ever since you entered the forest, but it’s only just recently gotten stronger. Once you determine that no one is around, you motion her closer.

“Gabi, he almost killed me.” Your voice is no more than a whisper as a harsh wind blows passed. Gently, you grip the edge of your shirt, shifting slightly to raise it to about the bottom of your ribs.

Her eyes widen, a gasp escaping her lips as her hands come up to cover her mouth.

“Final year, he cornered me in the locker room.” You let the material of your shirt fall back down to cover the jagged scar on your body, spanning from below your ribs on your right side, all the way across your stomach, and almost to your left hip. “Didn’t even use a blade, but a broken piece of glass from the window he smashed to get in.”

“That’s horrible!” Her whole body trembles. “I’m so sorry that happened!”

“Because it happened before his eighteenth birthday, they couldn’t try him as an adult yet. He got two months in juvie and a slap on the wrist. I got twenty-four stitches, and six months in recovery.” You avert your gaze. “I’m assuming he’s looking for me to finish what he started.”

“But why?” She meets your gaze, tears lining her vision.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, straightening out the front of your jacket. “I never asked, nor did I want to.”

“You should get home, then!” She replies frantically, checking her watch. “Ryder and his gang enjoy hanging out at that entrance over there with their bikes in the evenings. It’s almost around the time he gets here.”

Frantically, she starts tugging your hand to lead you in the opposite direction.

Faintly, you begin to hear the sound of motorcycles revving in the distance.

“Hurry!” She tugs you along, sparing a glance behind you only for her eyes to widen. “Shit. I can just make out some of their bikes at the edge of the path. Sometimes they like to joyride through here cause it’s wide and flat enough. Let me see if I can go distract them for a bit. I’ll meet you at the front entrance in five!”

Without waiting for a response, she pushes you behind her and down the path. You can only watch as she scurries off towards the sound of revving bikes and obnoxious laughter.

Reluctantly, you part ways, looking back over your shoulder every now and then to see if you can still catch a glimpse of Gabrielle. Only, the further you get, the harder it is to tell if she’s alright. She took a big risk doing this for you, especially since you don’t really know her all that well anymore, and you both were never really close to begin with. Still, you will not forget her kindness that easily.

At least Ryder shouldn’t hurt her. From what you recall, he was always trying to impress her in elementary school.

Just as you breach the forest entrance she told you to wait by, your eyes widen. What if she did this to set you up?

No. Her shocked reaction was too genuine to fake. Besides, she was never like that before, and you do not think she’s like that now. Either way, she should be back with you in a minute.

Five more minutes pass by, and you’ve still yet to see any sight, nor hear any sound of Gabrielle. Your worry skyrockets with each passing second, and you know you’re not that far from the side road if you decided to cut through the bush. Something must have happened.

At the shriek of fear you hear faintly in the distance, you know something’s wrong. Even that creeping sense of being watched has left you about twelve minutes ago, and you don’t know what’s going on. Either way, you’re not going to leave Gabi to the same fate you suffered under at the hands of this man. If he wants you, then that’s exactly who he’s going to get.

It takes you less than two minutes to reach the entrance at the side of the road, creeping along the trees to avoid being seen for as long as you can. You turn your head left to see nothing, only to turn right and see about six males sitting around on motorcycles, Gabrielle being held in their midst. She struggles to free herself, a switchblade being pressed to her throat by Ryder who wears a smug grin as he whispers lowly into her ear.

“Ryder.” Your stern voice draws all of their attention as you step out of the woods. “Let her go.”

“Ah, there you are.” He hums, fingers tightening on the back of Gabrielle’s neck. “Took you long enough to show up. You know I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Let her go, she has nothing to do with this.” You keep your voice calm, hands raised defensively in front of you as you keep a fair amount of distance between you and the six men. “You wanted me, not her.”

“I suppose you took the bait easily enough.” He chuckles, shoving Gabi to the ground.

Tears stream freely down Gabi’s cheeks as she scrambles away. All the other males offer her is condescending chuckles, tripping her as she attempts to escape.

Gabrielle runs over to you, a small scrape cut into the skin of her left eyebrow. Her hands once more find purchase on your arms, soft apologies falling from her lips.

“It’s okay.” You assure her. “Get home safely, I’ll be fine.”

She squeezes your arms, rushing back off into the suddenly silent woods and out of sight.

“So, you’ve finally returned after years of staying away, huh?” Ryder scoffs, standing from his motorcycle and slowly stalking towards you like a predator would its prey. “What made you stay? I thought you swore to never spend more than one evening in this town if you could.”

“Oh, you know,” you reply casually, backing up all the while. “Lease was about to renew, landlord raised the rent, apartment flooded. The usual.”

“Convenient,” he grins, and the sight only serves to unnerve you. “Had nowhere else to go expect dear old mom and dad.”

“You should know.” You reply bluntly.

Everyone you’ve talked to has explained how much of a deadbeat Ryder is. He’s always trashing the town and causing mischief, but he never gets penalized for it. Bastard’s dad is a cop, no wonder he only really got off with a slap on the wrist when he hurt you all those years ago.

“How’s that scar?” He tilts his head mockingly. “Did wonders to improve your ugly features. Too bad it didn’t kill you.” He pauses ten feet from you, that switch blade getting flipped menacingly in his hand. “Want some more?”

You run; without wasting another precious moment, you turn and flee.

The sound of revving engines reach your ears as you stick to the edge of the road. You’ll have better chances of a car coming by than with people walking through the woods this late in the evening. So, you take your chances on a flat path, sprinting along the wet pavement as the mist continues to hang in the air.

Only, you don’t get very far, for two of his lackeys nearly run you off of the road when they swerve in front of you. The others are quick to surround you, but you don’t even have much time to think before you feel yourself get harshly tackled to the ground.

Blow after blow is given to you, blood seeping out of cuts all along your body. Ryder lets each of his men take turns beating you, saving the knife until the very end when you can no longer feel your right arm, or the left side of your face.

Slowly, meticulously, he reopens that cut he gave you all those years ago. He’s not gentle, either, and all you can think of is that this is just like the first time, only worse. This time, there are witnesses who choose not to help you, screams and pleas of mercy falling on deaf ears.

“There,” he stands back to his feet, spitting on you all the while. “Maybe if you’re lucky, someone on their morning commute will find you.” He kicks you one more time for good measure as your vision begins to fade. “If you’re that lucky, this time.”

Nothing but the sound of their maniacal laughter echoes through your mind as they rev their engines once more. The last thing you see before your world goes black is the faint glow of taillights driving off into the distance.

***

You don’t know how much time has passed, but you do recognize a few things.

One: you’re terribly cold. You can barely feel your body, and consciousness is a battle to maintain as your whole being aches with a pain unlike anything ever before.

Two: you are no longer alone.

Someone seems to be calling your name frantically, your body being held within that person’s embrace. Their caress is tender, cautious not to aggravate your wounds any further than they already are.

Groggily, your eyes blink open, whole body tensing as you hear three unnatural roars sound from just off to your right.

“Tell them to calm down!” The voice holding onto you snaps at someone to their left. “They’re scaring her.”

Finally, your gaze refocusses, and you can just make out the features of the man holding you. Your lips part, his name but a muted whisper as you attempt to speak.

“Shhh,” Yunho coos, brushing a hand tenderly over the top of your head. “We’re here now. It’ll all be okay.”

Faintly, you register the sound of someone pacing just by your head.

“This is all my fault,” a deep voice sounds from above you. It must be whoever was pacing, for they seem to have stopped for the moment. “If I didn’t leave her alone to come get all of you, this never would have happened.”

“You did what any one of us would have, Yeosang.” Another voice replies, a slight sigh on his lips. “If we all hadn’t of gotten here when we did, it would be much worse.”

“Here,” Seonghwa comes to kneel beside you, his arm shaking as he brings his wrist to your lips, “Drink this.”

You try to protest, to resist the red liquid which pours soothingly down your throat, but you cannot. You are far too weak at the moment to do anything other than obey, and besides, you’ll probably die soon. So, what’s the difference if you comply with the wishes of a strange request?

Only, the moment the warmth touches your tongue, you begin to feel strength returning to you. Your breathing is evening out with every breath you take, your wounds slowly seeming to close. The pain is starting to dissipate, and you find you are regaining feeling in all parts of your body.

Your vision clears further, and you can see Hongjoong standing off to the side, both him and Wooyoung looking absolutely livid as the sound of snapping branches reaches your ears. Shifting your gaze, you see both Mingi and San rush out of the woods far too quickly for any human to do, dried blood coating their hands as dirt covers their arms.

Finally, the eldest pulls his wrist away, wiping at the small stain of red that coats your lips with his thumb. Silently, as he does so, the six others standing around you converge.

Yunho’s whole body shakes. You can feel it trembling against you as he pulls you into his chest. His grip is desperate, clinging to you for dear life as if you may disappear again at a moment’s notice.

“Who did this to you?” His voice is calm; deadly. Like the approach of an oncoming storm.

You look down, noticing the torn material of your shirt. Your hands shake as you watch that scar you’ve had for the majority of your life finish healing, the line you’ve become so accustomed to fading into nothing.

Blood still covers the majority of your body, yet all you can do is stare at your hands for the moment. Slowly, you raise them, touching the tips of your fingers to your thumbs, and counting to twenty in your mind. You blink a few times, still debating on if this is really happening or not.

You tilt your head, almost inquisitively, “How…”

“She’s in shock.” Jongho comments.

“Of fucking course she is!” San replies, clearly exasperated as he nearly tears his hair out of his skull. “We only found her bleeding out and on the verge of death at the side of the road!”

You flinch at his tone, and they all take a step towards you.

“Watch it, San.” Mingi warns.

“Like you are fairing any better.” Wooyoung snaps, arms crossed over his chest. “Tearing out the whole forest isn’t going to catch the bastard that did this to our ma-“

“Who did this to you?” Hongjoong’s inquiry is a tad softer than Yunho’s as he crouches beside you. His blond hair is pushed up and away from his face, hiding nothing of his expression of concern as he reaches for your hands. Still, he cannot hide the tremble in his own.

Your lips part, voice catching in your throat. Desperately, you attempt to find the words to say, but none seem to want to come out.

A blink, and Yeosang comes to crouch beside Hongjoong, drawing your attention to him for the moment.

“Was it Ryder?” He keeps his inquiry low, tone even as he meets your gaze.

After a moment of hesitation, you nod. Slowly.

The males all tense around you, but none so much as the one holding you.

“He was the one-“ Yunho swallows thickly. “The one that made you flee the coffee shop that day.”

Again, you nod.

“He gave you that scar you showed Gabrielle today.” Yeosang continues, and in the back of your mind, you wonder how he knew that. Though, from the way your injuries have miraculously healed, the rumours you’ve heard, and those roars that shook the area not even ten minutes ago, you’re starting to piece two and two together. “He did this to you."

The way you swallow, quite thickly at that, is answer enough.

“I’ll fucking kill him for touching you.” Wooyoung seethes, his eyes flashing beneath the dull light of the moon now peeking through the clouds.

“Bastard is lucky to still be fucking breathing right now,” San’s chest heaves with every breath, hands clenched tightly into fists at his sides.

Hongjoong stands back to his feet, turning his back to you as he methodically cracks his neck from side to side.

Gently, Yunho hands you off to Seonghwa, who is more than happy to cradle you in his hold.

“Jongho, Seonghwa, Yeosang, take her home.” Hongjoong rolls his shoulders, only to spare a glance back at you in the next moment. He smiles reassuringly before turning to face front, the others coming to stand beside him in a line. “The rest of us are going hunting.”

A blink, and the five other males have disappeared from sight.

Words of protest begin to form at your lips as you feel yourself being picked up quite easily by the eldest from the ground. You’re still trying to wrap your head around the events that have taken place before your very eyes, but the longer you think about it, the more your head begins to hurt.

“Shh,” Seonghwa coos into your ear, turning back towards the forest and beginning to walk down the path with the other two males in tow. “Just sleep.”

You want to fight it, but at the sudden fatigue that clouds your mind, you have no choice but to fall unconscious for the second time this evening.

***

This time, when you wake, the sound of a crackling fire greets your ears. You can feel yourself being held in someone’s embrace, a soothing hand being brushed over your back as you curl into what you assume is their chest. The odd part is, even though you remember everything, you feel safe, and you certainly feel warm.

A small groan escapes you, your hands coming up to rub at your eyes. You manage to push yourself the slightest bit away from whoever seems to be resting with you on the couch, feeling their chest shake with a chuckle as you nearly fall backwards onto the floor.

“Feeling better?” It’s Yeosang.

You blink, quite a few times at him laying in front of you, just casually holding you steady so you don’t go tumbling from the couch. 

“Uh, yeah.” You clear your throat. “Thanks.”

Slowly, with his help, you sit up. He helps you wrap the blanket you had been using around your shoulders, and that’s when you notice both Jongho and Seonghwa sit in the same room as you. Each male occupies a separate armchair, gazes locked on your form as they observe your every move with nothing but worry in their eyes.

“Are you okay?” Jongho leans forward the slightest bit, fingers desperately clutching at the sides of his chair as he looks to you.

You wrap the blanket tighter around yourself as you nod. 

You stare at the floor, keeping your voice low. “How did you find me?”

The three males share a look between one another.

“We-“ Seonghwa swallows thickly, averting his gaze to the side. “We could smell your blood.”

Before another word can be said from any of you, the sound of a door opening reaches your ears. Glancing up reveals five more men flooding into the room, red coving nearly every free inch of their skin.

Your eyes nearly bug right out of your head, especially when Wooyoung comes to kneel right in front of you, reaching for you with nothing but concern on his features. Only, you cannot help but to push yourself away from him, and as far back into the couch as you can go. 

His expression droops.

“Wooyoung.” Hongjoong hisses.

“Please don’t be scared of us,” he keeps his voice low, nonthreatening. “We would never hurt you.”

“Give her some space,” Yunho drags the male back by the collar of his shirt. “She nearly died tonight, the last thing she needs to be is crowded.”

Each male does not fail to miss the way you flinch at Yunho’s words.

“I understand why people told me to stay away from all of you, now.” You keep your voice low, clearing the roughness of your dry throat as you speak.

You notice the way they all tense, expressions falling, even if only the slightest bit.

“Are you scared of us?” Hongjoong’s tone is soft, nothing but a gentle inquiry as he meets your gaze.

“Should I be?” You quirk a brow. “Because I’m pretty sure if you were half as bad as people said you were, you would have left me for dead at the side of the road.”

This time, it’s their turn to flinch at the reminder of the state they found your body in.

“Right now, I need honesty.” You spare a glance around at all of them as you curl in tighter to yourself. “Can you afford me that?”

“Always.” Mingi breathes, taking a step towards you as if he wants to comfort you.

You take a deep breath in, “You all aren’t human.”

A statement which they pick up on.

“That is correct.” Yunho nods, swallowing somewhat thickly.

“You’re responsible for those animal attacks starting around two years ago that Gabi told me about.” Again, another statement.

“Yes and no,” San grimaces. “There were a few other covens that tried to follow us here. We ran them off.”

You can feel your heart pounding inside of your chest as you continue to stare at the floor. The fire crackles to the side.

“You’re vampires.”

A stillness passes over the room.

“We are.” Yeosang confirms, and he notices how you don’t necessarily retreat any further away from him on the couch this time.

You look up, sparing a glance around the room and fully taking in the bloody appearances of the five males who entered not that long ago. Your hands tighten on that blanket around your form. 

“You killed them, didn’t you?” The words are no more than a whisper on your lips, but they all still manages to hear.

“Of course we did.” Wooyoung states, rather firmly.

You meet his gaze. “Why?”

The eight males nearly blink in surprise.

“They hurt you.” Mingi replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “He hurt you.”

“Why go through all of these lengths to help me?” You spare another glance around the room at all of them.

They all seem to blink in mild surprise.

“Because you are important to us.” Hongjoong shifts to crouch in front of you, gently reaching over to clasp your hand in his own.

“You met me a little over three weeks ago.” You deadpan.

“We’ve been searching for you for much longer than that.” Seonghwa breathes out, shifting so that he’s sitting on the edge of his seat.

Your brow furrows. “What do you mean by that?”

“How much do you know about our kind?” San asks, sitting across from you on the opposite couch.

Your eyes narrow slightly at him, figuring this to be some sort of test. “I’ll admit, I’m rather ignorant when it comes to your ways. I don’t think Twilight or Dracula are good history books.”

Mingi and Wooyoung snort, “You’ve got that right.”

“Basics are the same,” Yunho says, beginning to list off, “We need blood, or blood substitutes to survive. Strength, speed, abilities, all the same.”

“Sunlight, garlic, and crosses are all null though.” Wooyoung shrugs, plopping on the couch right beside San.

“Though, there always seem to be one aspect never mentioned for our kind.” Yeosang mumbles, somewhat disappointedly.

“No, the wolves seem to get that aspect more than we do.” Seonghwa rolls his eyes, sitting back in his chair.

“Aspect?” You spare a look around the room before your eyes settle in on the soft brown ones of the male kneeling before you.

“There are many different words for it,” Hongjoong begins. “Fated, life partners, lost souls,” his eyes flash as he watches you carefully, “mates.”

Your head tilts forward in disbelief, “You expect me to believe vampires have soulmates?”

“Believe it or not, we do.” Yunho’s voice is but a mere exhale on his lips as he looks to you, a certain type of fondness suddenly shining there that you’ve never seen before.

Your head begins reeling.

“None of our kind really know how it works,” San looks down at his hands, beginning to pick at some of the dried blood lingering there. 

“It can happen at any stage in our lives, but there comes a point where we begin to feel drawn to a place.” Seonghwa explains.

“Sometimes it’s a hometown, other times it’s where they currently live.” Mingi adds.

“We all felt that pull,” Hongjoong breathes. “To here.” He meets your gaze. “To you.”

“We spent a full year in this area before we realized you were no longer living in town.” Wooyoung’s gaze drops to his lap, a sort of defeated longing taking over his features.

You notice how none of them meet your gaze now, and realization settles in your bones. 

You inhale sharply. “You tracked me.”

“When you’ve lived as long as we have, you begin to think these stories of so called ‘fated’ are simply legend.” Hongjoong admits. “So, when we finally felt that pull, we wanted to do anything to keep it.” He squeezes your hand gently. “To find you.”

A sort of ease lifts some of the tension from the room as it settles over the eight of them

“And we did.” Mingi smiles softly at you, blinking back the tears that suddenly spring to his eyes.

“Getting to know you was the next step,” Wooyoung says, a sort of eager gleam shining in his eyes now.

“Of course, we don’t know everything.” Yunho shoots him a pointed look.

“Once we knew you’d be coming for a visit back home, it made things a little easier,” Jongho admits, his fingers beginning to dance along the armrests of his chair.

Your eyes narrow suspiciously. “That’s sweet and all, but you only talked to me because fate told you to?”

“No!” Seonghwa is quick to protest, extending his arms in front of himself as panic crosses all of their features.

“We wanted to get to know you first, before truly deciding on anything.” Yeosang says, noticing how you turn your gaze to meet his own as he speaks. He smiles shyly, averting his eyes in the next moment.

Of course, they’re not going to tell you the lengths they went to just to get you to stay at your hometown for longer than you had planned. It’s not like they planned to let you leave them. Not when they’ve finally found you. Not when you’re finally theirs.

“And do I get a choice in this?” You quirk a brow.

The males all share a look.

“Of course you do!” Hongjoong assures you. “We would never force you to be with us.”

However, sabotaging any other partners you may desire is not completely off of the table. They’ll all make sure to appear as the best options for you. Them, and only them.

You nod in understanding. Beginning to push yourself off of the couch. Luckily, Hongjoong seems to pick up on your movements, helping you up and onto your feet in the next moment.

“This is a lot to think about.” You reply, rather bluntly. “A lot has happened, and I really just want to go to sleep.”

Seonghwa stands. “I’ll show you to your room.”

Again, your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

“No.” You shake your head. “I am going home, and then we can discuss this later. Preferably when over half of you are not covered in blood from ripping someone apart.”

“Oh, believe me, Gorgeous,” Wooyoung grins, though it serves to unnerve your more than anything, “We did more than that to that bastard.”

Your whole body tenses, and you watch as San reaches over to smack Wooyoung upside the head.

“Ow,” he rubs at the tender spot, “What the hell was that for?”

At the jerk of San’s chin in your direction, Wooyoung takes in your tense state.

You blink, clearing your thoughts. “One of you, take me home.”

Turning towards the door you’re positive the five had entered from earlier, you begin to make your way out of the room. All eight of them are quick to follow, Seonghwa offering to drive you back to your place for the evening. Both Yunho and Hongjoong offered, but seeing as they’re both still bathed in blood, you opted to decline.

The whole drive back to your parent’s house is silent, Seonghwa attempting some small talk with you only for you to shut him down every time. You’ve been through a lot this evening, and there’s been a lot of information for you to process, so of course the eldest isn’t phased in the slightest. Ever the gentleman, he still bids you a goodnight, and waits until you get inside your house, and have turned on your bedroom light before driving off into the night.

That evening, as you lay in bed, all you can do is toss and turn. Your mind swims with everything you’ve learned, yet you find yourself more relaxed than anything. It’s as if this is always what was meant to be.

With that thought, you turn onto your side, clutching your pillow firmly to your chest. Not even ten minutes later, you succumb to sleep, breathing evening out as your curtains sway in the breeze.

Silently, eight presences enter your room, completely undetected beneath the light of the moon.

“That went better than planned,” Wooyoung comments, a giddy grin tugging at his lips.

“She seems to be taking things well,” Seonghwa nods his agreement.

“It helps that she already knows us.” Jongho hums, shifting in closer to your bed until he’s right beside your nightstand.

“We still don’t know if she’ll fully accept us.” Yunho reaches out for you, only to stop himself when he feels Yeosang’s hand on his wrist.

“Let’s not push our luck tonight, yeah?” He shoots a sharp look at the taller male.

“Either way, we’ll never let her out of our sights again.” There’s a low growl on San’s lips as he says this, filling the space with a promise which is echoed by each one of his brothers standing around you in that room.

“Nothing will ever bring her harm,” Mingi kneels behind the opposite side of your bed, hand gently resting on the edge so as not to alert you of his presence. The whole time, his eyes remain locked on your figure, dead heart racing with nothing but love as he gazes at you fondly. “We’ll make sure of it.”

“That we will.” Hongjoong hums, coming to kneel as close to your sleeping figure as he can. 

Softly, he trails his gaze over your body, noticing how you seem to shiver beneath the gentle breeze that flits through your room. He pulls your covers over your arms, risking a tender caress against your cheek once he’s done. 

“We’ll watch over you, Our Precious Fated,” He whispers lowly, hearing soft growls of agreement echo once more around the room from all of them. “You never have to worry about anything again. We promise: we'll always bring you home.”

[aziraphales-library]

hello!!!!

Really appreciate all don't work you guys put in for us, I basically find all my fic here. Hope you guys are doing well ❣️ any Cowboy AU would recommend? Prefer rating M/E thank you!!!!

Hi!! We have a #cowboys tag. Not all of these AUs are out-and-out cowboy fics, but they are all in the country/western/ranch arena...

Good Things and Ugly Things by cinnamonsnaps (T)

cowboy/wild west au! Reverend Raphael hasn't gone by his old name in a long, long time. When a tall dark stranger knocks on his door and brings a dire warning, it isn't long before rumours start to spread: what's a holy man doing talking to wanted men? (aziraphale is a preacher, crowley is an infamous gunslinger, and there's a lot of spitting)

Wild Hearts Only Sing to Each Other by theRavenMuse (E)

Crowley is a cattle rustler who's caught the attention of local sheriff Aziraphale, but not the type of attention most would think. Under cover of night, two lovers can be more than what daylight allows.

Is that a can in your pocket or are you just hay-ppy to see me by sixbynine (E)

"He was desperate for a shower; mucking out all the stables had taken him the best part of the day. He’d long ago lost his shirt, unable to handle the fabric sticking wetly to his skin. His hair had been pulled back into a high bun to get as much of it off his face and neck as possible, but the constant movement had shaken wisps loose. It stuck to his neck and forehead and he could feel the rest of the bun threatening to break free. Crowley swiped the towel across his face and neck, dipping down to catch the rivulets of sweat that had gathered along his breastbone as he turned. He groaned at the minor relief the soft towel gave him from the sticky feeling of sweat coating his skin. “Uh,” someone coughed politely. " Crowley is minding his own business when this tall glass of cold water walks in. And he plans to drink deep. Part 1 of The Ranch series

Striking Chords by Ambra_Sue (M)

Anthony Crowley is a country singer a couple of years off his latest almost-hit, itching for something to change. He’s done his best to outrun his demons, but it’s not until he runs into an intriguing blond angel of a man that things start to fall into place. Aziraphale has a successful career, close friends, and more than enough money, but there’s still something missing. When an unexpected arrangement with reckless, ‘work-hard-play-harder’ Crowley crops up, his well-ordered world is changed forever. Can they balance career goals and feelings, and find the perfect rhythm together? Country music AU! This fic was meant for Pride month, and because of that I'll be reccing LGBTQ+ country music artists on each chapter. I built this fic on short chapters to cover as many artists as possible.

Town Meets Country by Angel_of_the_Dawn (M)

Former preacher Azira Fell moves to a small rural town to work as a librarian and meets Anthony Crowley, former drifter turned farmer. Crowley helps Azira come to terms with his past and face the future.

The False and the Fair by Princip1914 (E)

Growing up in the shadow of West Virginia’s Eden Mountain, Aziraphale Wright always expected to work for the family coal mining company. Anthony Crowley, the son of a down-and-out miner, was going to become a pilot and leave town forever. Now, thirty years later, neither of their lives have gone as planned, and an unexpected inheritance brings them back into one another’s orbit. Aziraphale hopes that they can move beyond their shared past, and a high school arrangement that ended in disaster, but he has secrets of his own that threaten their fragile reconnection…

- Mod D

[little-mouse-gardens]

Yandere fae turtles

Random au idea that popped up in my head

Yan turtles spider wick chronicles au? Based on a random scenario i wrote involving my ocs while listening to music from pans labyrinth and the spider wick soundtrack

Also tagging @lexiechr , @souperwrites and @radicallxser, thanks for inspiring these headcannons!

Warning : Mentions of violence, blood, murder, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, kidnapping (I do not condone this behavior in real life. this is only for entertainment purposes only)

Reader moves into an old cottage in the woods and begins renovating it. Like has the ideas layed out on the table and everything.

However, as they move in and begin renovations for their dream cottage…..reader notices something’s…off

Maybe it’s the way the breeze blows likes its whispering their name, or the odd sensation of being watch, but things keep getting stranger.

- Such as things going missing (milk, honey, baked goods, gadgets and gizmos, soft blankets and clothes)

- new expensive items or just things reader wanted appearing on their doorstep with little notes, their garden is blooming in winter. little protective charms start being put up mysteriously, weak stuff to keep the smaller nuisances away. jewelry, coats, and robes with strand symbols.

Though the most worrying is the fact that the chickens they keep around are terrified of the forest at night. The birds usually so bold to follow you around are literally petrified to go past a seemingly invisible line that circles the entire house.

Eventually reader discovers the attic of an old professor who was an expert in fae and nymphology after multiple wierd events keep happening around their house. Oddly, a few pages of the journal are missing in the back. However they do take the time to skim over the books contents and discover they may have a fae Problem.

So, reader deals with problem accordingly.

Learning how to properly but politely decline the gifts left on your porch. Putting up charms of protection and making sure everything is cleansed properly. Even going as far as to leave tiny offerings just outside of the edge of the forest to distract whoever or whatever was doing this.

Lining their house with stones, to ensure that there’s a barrier between your home and the fae.

Though reader reads back on the journey and realizes some forms of offering or giving trinkets can be interpreted as courting……oops

Things get worse.

dead birds and other things start being dropped on your door step, the salt gets blown away in strong gusts of wind from the forest

Just a whole slew of the things that make reader worry about their safety. So they decide to read the professors journals in order to seek answers. Oddly, they notice some of the pages are missing…..

Not realizing they have caught the eyes of the four gaurdians of the forest who all seek to capture them and make reader theirs.

Page by page and day by, reader learns more of who could be behind this never ending line of mysterious events. Especially with the help of mayhem, a small fae they discovered living in the attic who properly helps them learn more about the four kings of the fae and the forest covered mountains.

Reader notices mayhem bringing back things such as adder stones and old pages from the journal during the day, but remaining hidden inside when nightfall comes. Using the adder stones to let mayhem chase of pesky goblins and pixies tormenting their poor chickens.

One day, four handsome strangers arrive in town. Four turtle mutants who each seem particularly affectionate and fond of reader whenever they stop by or run into eachother. Flirting, praises, ect. Yet when they visit they never cross the line of stones.

The brothers come by on occasion, or rather frequently, but are strange around the house and insist on being chilavalorous and being invited in

Not once.

They hang out at the edge of your circle of stones. Often ask if you want to go for a late night walk or to invite them inside your home. ***Don’t. Do. It***

Either they wont leave, or you’ll disappear. And don’t give them your name under any circumstances.

Reader, having studied the journals and noticing mayhems aggression towards them, sense something off with the mysterious strangers who seem to shower them in attention and gifts. So, reader goes back home one evening and spends most of the night piecing together that journal

Page by page and using the old, pencil over some seemingly blank paper to reveal its hidden message indented into parchment. All the while they hear the noises of whispers on the wind. Affectionate but manipulative praises of love to come outside and be with them.

Reader doesn’t fall for it.

And eventually reader discovers the true identities of the turtles once mayhem helps them glue the last page inside.

So, by the fireplace with mayhem protectively flopped over by the front door, reader reads up on the boys true identity’s. Quietly going over the inked lettering bit by but until they’ve remembered everything. Even about the four higher-ups above, the court of four Kings with the same names as the regular four Kings. though reader just refers to the court of four Kings as the peepaws for a bit of comedy relief.

- Raphael : prince of the trolls, giants, often a brute to those who cross him. Steals soft blankets, plush toys and just anything he deems worthy to add to his space of comfort. His den of blankets and nest of comforts. Never cross him, steal what’s his or mess with his brothers unless you want to be brutally beaten to death by a mutant with the strength of a giant. He was the one to take old plushies, pillows, blankets from your home Before your began setting up protective charms

- Leonardo and Donatello : princes of the goblins, hobgoblins and boggarts. A dangerous duo, both together and separated they are cunning. Donnie is calculating and clever, no one has yet to match his genius and will torture those who don’t give him offerings of precious metals of human gadgets. Leonardo is a charming almost smug fae, he’s clever and manipulative to a fault with expensive tastes, he has his ways of getting what he wants and torture is one of them, though his preferred method is illusion and mind games. Leaving old consoles or expensive items outside your house and they’re quickly snatched up by the pair or their people

- Finally there is Michelangelo : princes of the fairies, pixies, brownies and smaller fae who use their creativity and affection to lure their victims. A tad bit spoiled despite his sweet and bubbly demeanor. He will throw a fit for the ages when he doesn’t get what he wants. Appease him with sweets and art supplies if you must. However his sweetness is only reserved for those he wants to reserve it for……I’m not going to say what his methods of disposing of victims are, let’s just say it’s too traumatic for the minds of mankind

It’s suffice to say, a lot of readers items go missing. Got a painting or art supply you left in sight of the window? Suddenly it’s plastered all over Mikey’s own nest. Jewelry that’s broken? Patched up and apart of each of the boys attire. Although important items to reader that they care a lot about are always returned before the end of the day

mayhem usually takes trips outside to find it. Stealing it right from under the boys noses and scampering back to readers house with stolen goods in their jaws.

Occasionally readers neighbor April pops on by to help out. She’s nice….something feels off but she’s nice nonetheless. Though the protective fae circle is slightly crooked in some spots after she leaves.

But once reader is prepared to deal with the boys, they start sitting out on their porch at night. Humming a random tune to their favorite song and quietly making satchets to hang in the doorways. Leaving offerings for smaller fae just outside of the circle. Making sure to make eye contact with any of the bois if they decide to come closer from the treeline.

And they do. They’re head over heels for this person. So of course they would approach, Each ones words Filled with nothing but loving compliments and promises to make reader their partner. To have them rule by their side over their domain.

They live gifts outside the circle, making sure reader sees each of them doing it. they grin and blow kisses, stalking around the circle

That is until they see one of their brothers. It either ends in them having a stare off and duke it out. They’d politely sabotage each other’s gift. Larger gifts over shadowing smaller ones. Making their gifts more eye catching to reader.

sometimes, reader will occasionally tease them back. Saying that it wouldn’t be too bad if they went with one of them on certain conditions. Which practically redoubles the boys efforts to woo their new potential partner. All the while reader goes into sage the house with mayhem glaring at the turtles from the front porch steps.

And each of the boys subjects defiantly do their best to try and help out their king.

Trolls and larger fae sent to help repair readers house

Goblins, and boggarts sent to fetch reader new clothes, expensive objects or things reader likes

Pixies, fairies and brownies to finish house chores, redecorate and replenish the home

All of whom are attempting to convince and argue reader should marry their prince. How their prince would be the perfect husband, how the other fae would love to help reader get settled into their new home in the forest, ect.

Just when reader thinks it couldn’t be more crazy. That’s when they finally catch the eyes of the four kings, previous princes now grown. (Aka the future turtles)

Much more powerful than the princess and certainly more menacing. Handsome, Bigger, more decked out in lavish clothes and jewelry, and covered in scars From fights and other events in their long lives.

Their colors may be a bit more faded than their younger counterparts but they make up for it in sheer presence.

Each one of them absolutely adore reader and are delighted the empty throne by their side will be filled with a loving partner to share their lives with and spoil. Perhaps, just potentially, that nursery in that beautiful sunny spot in the woods could be filled with the soft cries and giggles of an heir they Could care for with tenderness and love.

Now, reader must deal with eight admirers, all of which have tricks of their sleeves.

Much more expensive gifts and even more gestures of goodwill…..

Including leaving young Casey, king Leonardo’s son, in the care of reader. The young boy left on readers porch and convinced this was his new parent he was supposed to bring back home to his family.

Reader almost fell for the whole ‘my dad’s hurt in the woods’ trick, if it wasn’t for the fact mayhem and the chickens kept staring out into the treeline. Watching Leonardo smirking from the shadows with anticipation.

So, reader trusts their gut, and just decides to take the little toddler in and raise them as their own. Feeds him, reads him stories, lullaby’s, plays with him. Ect.

However reader has to constantly remind him not to remove the new protections on the cottage. Though the boy always breaks down in tears and reader always tells him it’s okay and not to do it again. Though when his parent is asleep, he speaks to his fathers and uncles about why his ‘parent’ won’t come home with them and what was he doing wrong.

Eventually, since the peepaws can break through the barriers, reader must go off into the woods to get some random flowers for a wreath they were making. Taking Casey on a small trek into the woods just when the satchets finally wear off.

Giggling and whispers can be heard beckoning reader to the woods over the sound of Casey going on about how happy he was to finally be with his parent, ect.

In the blink of an eye and before mayhem can reach them, reader is whisked off by one of the turtles. Never to be seen again.

Waking up in one of the eights domains of with one of the turtles snuggled up to them. Murmuring about they’ll be so happy there with them, and how they’ll shower them with love and gifts so they can never leave.

Escaping them will be difficult, and after the impromptu wedding. Reader must play the part until the opportunity to escape and rid themselves of the immortality they’ve been granted.

But be warned

They will hunt you down once you do

And you better hope you can make it out of town before they do find you

[piratefalls]

“You are", he says, "the absolute worst idea I've ever had.” - me @ ao3 after watching the movie and thinking "there's probably fic for this."

i like lists. i've lost sleep reading fic like it's gonna disappear the second i look away. i'm making my problem yours. i'm sure a lot of these won't be new to people since they pre-date the movie and it's far from comprehensive but. i'm late to this party. i also can't make gifs, so enjoy the basic canva header.

(baby) don't make me spell it out by extasiswings

One night near the end of first semester 1L finals, just a few weeks before the two-year anniversary of their first kiss, Alex finds himself looking up from his desk with its messy piles of color-coded notes and tabbed textbooks to see Henry asleep on the couch, clearly having dozed off waiting for him to come to bed, and unbidden he thinks, God, I’m going to marry this man. It startles him, the spike of adrenaline that floods through him waking him up and bringing the parts of his brain turning over concepts like proximate cause and strict liability to a standstill as he stares at Henry. I want to marry this man.

God Save the Blessed American President Mom by zipadeea

["June stopped by at lunch; she showed me a delightful channel called Hallmark, which repeats the same story every hour after they swap one round of white, straight, small-town conventionally beautiful actors for another. It was entertaining.” “June and I used to play a drinking game with those. Take a shot every time someone goes ice skating, sledding, or leaves the big city for their tiny hometown.” “Good lord, you must’ve been sloshed in the first ten minutes.”] -- On December 4, 2021, an attempt is made on President Ellen Claremont's life. Alex gets shot instead.

Familiar Gravity by cmere

“Yeah,” Alex breathes, and he pulls back to look Henry in the eyes. “I’ve been fantasizing about you fucking me in this chair for, like, weeks. Every time you sit down here with your stupid book.”   Henry likes it when Alex speaks Spanish and Alex has a request.

Am I the Asshole? by everwitch

AITA for spending Valentine’s Day with my roommate instead of my boyfriend? It’s well past midnight on a Saturday and hardly the first time Alex has scrolled aimlessly on his phone instead of trying to sleep, but it’s definitely the first goddamn time Alex has discovered his roommate has made a lengthy post about last night’s curry debacle to r/AmItheAsshole — a post that’s apparently gone fucking viral. -- In which Alex and Henry are college roommates, and a few thousand strangers think they should fuck.

Everybody needs good neighbours by railmedaddy

To nora(9.37pm): So a funny thing happened My hot neighbour brought me the mcflurry i ordered and we fucked From nora (9.38pm): WHAT DETAILS NOW Which neighbour? Wait, you only have one hot neighbour. Alex, did you fuck a guy?!?!?! ALEX Or Alex meets a hot new neighbour. Shenanigans ensue.

A Picture on Your Corkboard by bleedingballroomfloor

It happens on a random morning in May when Alex, age fourteen, pads into the kitchen to greet his mother and steal a waffle from June's plate and sees a man sitting at their breakfast counter, reading a newspaper, a cup of coffee raised to his lips. Like he belongs. Like it's the most natural thing in the world. June doesn't seem to give the man a second thought. She merely flicks Alex on the forehead and takes back the waffle. Ellen isn't worrying, either. In fact, she's talking to him. Asking what his schedule is like. Making plans for dinner. Alex has never seen this man before in his life.

this is the worthwhile fight by dearhappy

It's not that Henry's scared of their future, he's never been more sure of anything in his life. The thing is they're still trying to figure out how that future is going to look. And he worries about how it'll affect Alex's career in politics.

Déjame Ver Cómo Es Que Floreces by 14carrotgold

Oscar gets in close and bluntly asks, “Earlier. In the bathroom. Did you do it?” Alex scoffs, “No. Don't be a perv. Why would you wanna know that anyway?” Oscar rolls his eyes. “Mind out of the gutter, chamaco. Did you propose?” Ah.  - Henry is introduced to the extended Diaz side of the family at their matriarch's birthday. Shenanigans (and romance and feelings) ensue.

Please Don't Let Me Be So Understood by chamel

“I’m glad you both see it that way,” Dr. Chen says. Then she closes her notebook and folds her hands on top of it. “I think I’m starting to get a sense of where the issues lie. The good news is that you’re both here, and you’re both willing to work on this relationship. That’s promising. Not all of the couples I see are even at that point.” “Sorry, what?” Henry says, voicing Alex’s stuttering thoughts as well. (After one too many fights at work, Henry and Alex are assigned mandatory reconciliation therapy by their boss. Except the therapist thinks they're there for couples therapy... and surely, a bet on who will break first makes more sense than actually correcting her, right?)

Such a Burden, This Flame on My Chest by allmylovesatonce

Alex Claremont-Diaz is relocating back to Austin to join his dad's firehouse. His days as a firefighter in Washington D.C. ended badly, but no one knows that, or knows why. And he plans to keep that close to his chest. He has to shove it back down if he wants to seem like a normal person, if he wants to do the job, if he wants to get along with his new crew, and most of all, if he wants to get to know the hot British firefighter on the squad. No one can know what really happened.

thinking (about last night) by rhosyn_du

“I hope you know that I am literally never going to stop reminding you that you said that. I’m going to, like, take out an ad in the student paper. Maybe hire a skywriter or something. I am definitely telling Pez." "I hate you," Henry tells him. "Lies," Alex says, still laughing. "You know you love me." Henry lets out a heavy sigh. "Well," he says softly, "that's rather the problem, isn't it?" “What, you think we’d be better off if we still hated each other?” “I think," Henry says slowly, "I’d be better off if I could figure out how to stop being so stupidly in love with you.” It takes a few seconds for the words to really register, as distracted as Alex is by the heat of Henry’s breath and wondering how much it would cost to actually hire a skywriter. Once they do, it takes a full minute before Alex can move. Can breathe. Can think. Finally, he forces out a whispered, “What?” When that gets no response, he tries again. This time, his voice actually cooperates. “Wait, what?” The only response he gets is a soft snore and Alex realizes that Henry, the utter fucking asshole, has passed out on his shoulder.

you're the reason i let myself fall by perfect-porcelain (tedddylupin)

Alex doesn't quite know what to expect when he walks into a room with a glowing screen separating him from the person in the other pod. The entire experience makes him skeptical. How can you fall in love with someone you've never met? Or: Love is Blind AU

Sharper Head, Wilder Heart by Dawg1515

"This could work out,” Henry offers. “It could,” Alex replies. “That’s good, then. Someone’s going to have to walk me through the brilliance of Empire Strikes Back, after all.” “Sweetheart, if we’re legitimately dating now, I’m forcing you to watch every movie that has Harrison Ford in it.” “Duly noted.” Or: When the Queen decides it’s time for Henry to settle down with a woman, she arranges a courtship between him and Alex Claremont-Diaz, closeted political powerhouse. Alex secretly tells Henry he’s trans, and Henry tells Alex that he’s gay. To say they become an amazing couple would be an understatement—but nothing is ever that easy for a prince and a president’s son.

every version of you (i love) by coffeecatsme

“So,” the voice narrates as the man squishes the dog’s cheeks and laughs at himself. “There’s this guy that lives next to me with the cutest beagle in the world and this little guy climbs to the fence every day to drop his toys off at, like, 5:30 on the dot, I’m not kidding.” The camera shows the man boop the dog’s nose and press a little kiss to his forehead. There’s a ball in his hands that he hands to the dog, but it slips from his mouth all over again, making the man reach down to grab it. He glares at the dog, but even then he’s still smiling. “And this guy always walks by and picks up the stuff and it’s the cutest fucking thing ever you have no idea.” The camera zooms in farther into the man’s smile, genuine and wild, as he pushes his wild curls away from his face. His eyes flicker up when another figure walks into the frame, his blonde hair falling over his forehead in waves. The man’s smile, impossibly, widens. “Oh. I’m also pretty sure he has a crush on my neighbor.” Or, 5 times David greets Alex with something that belongs to Henry, and 1 time he greets Alex with something that belongs to both of them.

The Duke Who Loved Me by annesbonny, Inareskai, schmulte

This Author knows as well as anyone how much you, gentle readers, enjoy a scandal and a love story. And what could bring more delight that two young gentlemen who bring both of those wherever they go? Join the Duke of Mountchristen and the, untitled, Mr Claremont-Diaz as they attempt to find a Love Match amongst the gossip of the ton.

The Edge of Glory by politics_and_prose

Subject: CD-10 To: Alex Claremont-Diaz (acd@cdlaw.com) From: Natasha Wallace (nwallace@txdems.com) Alex - You know how you jokingly told me to let you know when Mayfield was vulnerable and/or not seeking re-election? Tash

lying in the low light by smc_27

The thing about having a one night stand with the guy your sister is close friends with and gatekept from you is that it becomes really fucking important that she never knows. Or, Alex and Henry have a one year stand. Or, Alex and Henry are in a relationship, only they’re the only ones who don’t know it.

what we might do (if we stop keeping a secret) by indomitablelove

'This isn't how I wanted to tell people. I thought we'd get the chance to do it right.' - Red, White and Royal Blue, Casey McQuiston, p.327 --- or, in another world, Alex and Henry get to do it right.

Who Could Love You The Same as I by MariaDmitrievnaLikesSundays

Inside was exactly what Alex had found himself dreaming about ever since that night at Kensington. The kind of dreams that he forced himself to forget once he woke up, but dreams all the same. A gold band, simple and smooth, with a single square diamond embedded on top. It was small, modest, exactly to Alex’s taste. ”Holy shit,” he said again. “Holy shit.” That was a ring. That was, unmistakably, an engagement ring. Hidden in his boyfriend’s coat. And he had just found it.

—— Or, Alex finds the engagement ring that Henry had hidden, and does exactly what you’d expect him to.

As the World Falls Down by 3bowtruckles

So while we all knew that the 2020 written in the book would be glorious fiction, we didn’t realize that reality would throw us something to take 2020 even further away from the book’s events. This story is where I attempt to merge our 2020 reality and the fiction of RWRB, using research (a LOT of research) to try to figure out what the trajectory of reality might have been. The story starts picking up the timeline after their late-February trip to Paris. After that, it's strictly AU, but I try to keep a lot of the intents of the events in the book (for instance, Alex's trip to confront Henry in Britain after the lake) while still making them fit the narrative I've created.

We'll Change the World Yet to our Dessire [sic] by cresswells

Alex and Henry are engaged and ready to share their announcement with the world, but after the media circus surrounding their forced outing Queen Mary wants them to do things properly this time. To Alex’s surprise, ‘properly’ apparently means taking a Royal Tour around Europe as an official couple. Ten days, five countries and lots of unnecessary wardrobe changes. What could possibly go wrong?

where clouds look like mountains by weather_stained

Four months after the election, while still learning to navigate the complexities of being in a public relationship, Alex finally has the chance to show Henry around Austin.

We'll Invite Something In by smc_27

Alex is grinning a little too hard.  This is absolutely idiotic and pointless and fun.  The cover of Hello UK with a photo of him pulled out and a photo of His Royal Highness Prince Henry Fox-Mountchristen whatever the hell the rest of his names are (Alex knows; he being a dick) with the admittedly stupid but flattering headline which reads: His Royal Highness: He’s just like us and crushes on Pres ACD.

Henry's Cold, Empty Tower by DracoWillHearAboutThis

“I want you,” Henry said, slowly but clearly, “to leave.” When Alex storms Kensington Palace, Henry sends him away. Then, their relationship gets leaked, and it's Henry's turn to fight for Alex.

behind the diamond-shaped glass by Celaestis

Five times Alex and Henry used tea and biscuits to communicate, and one time they don't need to.

The Byline by rosetintednerdglasses

Press Secretary Alex Claremont-Diaz serves at the pleasure of the President, and he does it excellently until a new White House correspondent darkens his press room: Henry Fox, The Guardian.

we've been here forever (here's the frozen proof) by r_holland

Objectively, I am aware that you – a stranger – cannot tell me my own sexuality any better than I can, however... Can you, please? Tell me? It’s 4am and I have been thinking about this for hours, and I can’t sleep. Warmest regards, ACD *** It’s four in the morning, and Alex Claremont-Diaz has managed to follow a research spiral straight down into a personal crisis. It isn’t the first time.

words on the tip of your tongue (but please don't say them) by viciouslyqueer

So close. He was so close to saying those words that have lived inside him for so long, and now it's gone, a moment that slipped right between his fingertips before he could grasp it. Now he’s floating in the middle of the lake alone, the ghost of Henry’s touch still lingering on his skin and an unknown, heartbreaking feeling in his chest. — Or: canon-divergence where Henry doesn't leave the lake house.

The Grand Tour by lucky (revolutionbarbie)

When Henry returned from an audience with Queen Mary looking stony faced and grim, Alex had immediately feared the worst. She had requested to see Henry – and Henry alone – the moment their plane had landed at Heathrow on a visit to Pez’s new shelter in London.  Alex had suggested that they go to see her together just to spite the old hag, but Henry wanted to keep the peace. Since moving to Brooklyn, they had entered into an uncomfortable détente with Queen Mary and Henry was loathe to be the one to break it.  “She wants us to go to Australia. It would be an unofficial Royal Tour, of sorts, with stops in several cities and a short visit to New Zealand. Three and a half weeks in total.”  “She wants to send us on an all-expenses paid Australian getaway? Count me in.”

come and get me by rizcriz

The email arrives 8 days after Henry left the lake house. He contemplates deleting it without reading, but it sits in his Alex inbox, where there are over seventy emails favourited, and somehow it feels wrong and weirdly impersonal. As if leaving without a note were any different. He stares at the from line with an aching longing that seeps into his veins. It settles on his heart like a tangible thing; something warranted and cruel that casts shackles around the aorta and locks them tight so that he might never love again. -- or, alex sends an email instead of flying to KP.

Never Did Run Smooth by clottedcreamfudge

"You and me? Best friends. Stellar. Love that for us. But we could absolutely fake being in love. Dating. Whatever. I know literally everything about you—" (No you don't, Henry thinks firmly) "—and you know everything about me. We would absolutely fucking annihilate the other contestants.” "You're too drunk to apply," Henry points out, like he himself isn't about as wasted as it's possible for him to be without curling up and going immediately to sleep. "I doubt you could spell your own name right on the application. Or mine." Alex grins and pulls something up on his phone; it looks like it takes him a few tries. "Wanna fucking bet?" *** Or: Henry's life is a comedy of errors; a patchwork of oopsie-daisies; a quilt stitched together with hauntingly terrible mistakes. And at the centre of it all is his best friend, Alex Claremont-Diaz; director of said comedy, threading together his oopsie-daisies into a flower crown, rolling around in the quilt of his own making, and this analogy is going to shit because Henry's so in love with him he wants to die.

idk I'll do a part two if anyone wants.

[auncyen]

I think the applicable warning here would be disordered/restrictive eating?

-

You haven't tried to weave yourself into a group in a long time. You forgot how tiring it is, more tiring than fighting the Sadness was actually. Mirabelle (sweet, like the plum), Isabeau (beau, nice--his smile is nice, and so is his laughter) and Odile (the dark swan? Hm... why does she have a Vaugardian name, anyway) have been very nice, grateful for your help in the earlier fight, and Odile didn't give you too hard a time over your vague travel plans. You think you'll be able to travel with them for a little while, while they're looking for these mystery orbs. You're happy...and at the same time, you are so, so, so tired. It's easier talking to new people in a big town or city: you keep things casual, you drift from talking with one stranger to another as you pick up cultural nuances. It's mortifying if you make a mistake, but it's okay, because you can scurry away and try again with someone else later. You can't do that with a small group. If you mess up with Mirabelle, Odile and Isabeau will know and hate you too. You have to show your best self always while they're watching. And you can't forget names, dummy.

It's. Exhausting. But worth it! They're so kind. And they actually want you around. You think? (Isabeau is definitely exaggerating when he goes on about how strong you were against the Sadness--any traveler needs to know how to deal with those?--but you're pleased he even wants to flatter you.)

But it is tiring, and by the time evening falls and they decide to eat dinner, you've started to believe they might like you, so you relax, and so of course you mess up, and you don't even realize until the "you're already eating more?"

The tone is surprised. Or is it offended? The Ka Buan is looking at you and the plate you're refilling with raised eyebrows. You. Stop. Nice and Plum are still working on their first plates, even if they're close to done. The Ka Buan--the dark swan, you idiot, you're already messing up without forgetting names!--is barely even halfway through hers.

You...finish bringing the piece of bread in your hand to your plate, because you already touched it and you can't remember any culture where it'd be more polite to put food back in a shared setting after you took it to eat. Then you sit back with your plate only partially refilled and try to smile, but not too much (some cultures don't smile as much as others and right now you can't remember if smiling's appropriate, everything you've ever learned about any culture is falling out of your torn net of a brain) to cover up your nerves. "Fighting that Sadness made me hungry!"

Nice laughs on the log where he's sitting. "It's a good way to work up an appetite!" he says, and the dark swan gives her soft scoff of a laugh and Plum looks up with the ghost of a smile and then everyone goes back to eating, so everything's fine. It's fine. It's fine. You...pick at the bread on your plate. Your nerves have ruined your appetite, but that's good. You don't want to be greedy.

You thought Ka Buans usually liked when people took seconds? Showing appreciation for the meal and all. But maybe you're remembering wrong, and even if you're not everyone has their own preferences that can be different from the majority and a woman from Ka Bue with a Vaugardian name (that you have forgotten. stupid) seems like she'd be unique. You look down at your plate and glance at hers occasionally as she and Nice start talking about their traveling plans for the next day. Plum occasionally chips in. You don't, because you don't really care and you don't want to let on that you can't even hold on to three names. You just chew on each bite of bread for as long as you can to keep something in your mouth.

The dark swan eats her food agonizingly slow. She doesn't take a second plate at all. Plum and Nice do, but that's probably okay since they helped get the food. You didn't. You're new, you're not part of this group yet and you probably never will be, but you want to try and that means you need to be on your Best Behavior Always. Don't be greedy, don't be selfish, don't take what you haven't earned, just shut up and listen so you can get their names again.

You do. Mirabelle and Isabeau and Odile. Plum and Nice and Dark Swan. Mirabelle is sweet but nervous, Isabeau smiles easily, and Odile doesn't like how greedy you are.

You go to sleep hungry. It's not hard. When you first started traveling, you'd have sleep for dinner more often than not. And you did have dinner. And you're going to see pleasant people in the morning. What more could you want?

(Your stomach tells you very loudly what it wants. You tell it to blinding shut up.)

Plum (Mirabelle, Mirabelle, Mirabelle) scrambles up a bunch of eggs to eat along with some leftovers for breakfast. She serves you a plate. It's enough. More than enough, it's generous. No one takes seconds, so obviously, one plate is enough. Your stomach is only whining for more because you're a glutton.

Isabeau takes a second sandwich at lunch. Mirabelle doesn't. Odile doesn't. You're too unsure if it'd be okay for you to ask for another or not (Isabeau is a big man, so it's almost expected for him to have a big appetite, but you're neither of those things), so you play it safe and don't.

You're tired by the time evening rolls around again. You always do forget how exhausting it is to try to fit in with a group (but it's worth it, worth it, worth it, it's so nice not to be alone). You look up at the stars for a bit to think of other things, but then your stomach starts grumbling. You sleep for a second dinner instead, and as soon as there's light you're awake and foraging for berries, peering closely at the fruits and the bushes they're on because you don't want to poison yourself even if you're starving. Isabeau gives you a curious look when you get back to the campsite, making you wonder if the slightly sticky juice you can feel around your lips is a noticeable shade, but he grins at you and gestures you to sit down for breakfast. You pace yourself, glad you're already partially filled on berries. Make each bite last.

...You feel like someone is watching you, but when you look up, Odile is reading, and Mirabelle and Isabeau are facing each other as they talk. You try not to look at their plates. You don't need to make yourself hungrier.

At lunch, Isabeau cuts his second sandwich in half--apparently he just finds the smaller halves nicer to hold? You don't really get it, but it's no skin off your back. In fact, it's a bit more food in your stomach, because Isabeau only finishes one half before deciding he's full, actually, and offering it to you. You're nodding before the question is even fully out of his mouth, which embarrasses you once you catch yourself, but Isabeau just smiles. His name really does suit him.

The sandwich tastes delicious. Good bread, a smooth and creamy cheese, satisfying meat and tasty herbs.

At dinner, Isabeau gestures for your plate as soon as it's empty, and you hand it over, surprised when he starts filling it. A small noise of surprise escapes you, and he chuckles nervously, pausing. "You looked like you were still hungry! You are hungry, right?"

You hesitate. You don't know if it's okay to say yes. You look at Odile, who raises an eyebrow back at you.

"What are you looking at me for? If you're hungry, then eat."

But, she doesn't like you being greedy.

...Does she think you're being greedy? You don't remember what she first said about you being greedy, now. Maybe it's not that you're taking too much? Maybe you were taking a specific food she likes--oh, no, Isabeau looks worried now. You're not answering him quickly enough! Even Mirabelle's watching now! You're failing mealtime.

It's usually polite in Vaugarde to accept an offer and thank them, so-- "Y, yeah! Thank you, Isabeau."

He resumes filling up your plate. Hooray. "No problem, Siffrin! Eat up, you can have as much as you want."

You laugh. You don't think he realizes how much you want. But he looks happier you accepted the offer, and you're certainly happy for the full plate heading back to you. Even Odile sounds pleased when she says, "you kids have such big appetites." It makes you pause a second, because you're definitely not a kid--did you give them your age (or the best guess you have for it)? you can't remember--but her tone is amused, warm. She doesn't mind. She doesn't mind!!!

You go to bed that night, still tired, but full and happier. Being part of a group is exhausting, but it's so worth it.

(Months later, you'll try to commiserate with Odile about how exhausting it is to become friends with people, because you love Nille, she's just as amazing as you'd expect of Bonnie's big sis, but you're so tired from making sure you don't mess up and make a mistake that you might be giving yourself a migraine, how do people do this, and Odile will look over at you and remind you that most people do not have social anxiety to the degree you do. You'll go and commiserate with Mirabelle instead.)

[shady-tavern]

Preview for "Breaking Chains" the June Patreon Short Story

(warning ahead for implied abuse, assault and murder, please take care of yourselves)

*.*.*

In a valley across a great big lake, cradled between mountains like a god's cupped hands, sat a number of villages and towns. They were nestled among green meadows and greener forests like chicks in a bird's nest.

It was a peaceful place with people who considered themselves to be sensible and smart. They knew better than to do stupid things, to dress the wrong way or to cause trouble. They worked hard and rolled their eyes at anyone who didn't act like them.

They claimed to enjoy individuality, but the moment a colorful bard or a theater troupe with curious characters or simply someone different rolled through town, they began to whisper.

It was a pleasant place, as long as everyone did as expected. As long as everyone behaved. As long as everyone was sensible and smart and did as they were told.

Raine had always been a bit of a strange child, born to parents who could pretend very well to be like everyone else, but behind closed doors things were different. Behind closed doors they told her adventurous stories. They told her strange and wonderful stories.

They raised her on the ideas of hope and possibility and that, ultimately, good would have to triumph over evil. It was simply how the world was made, they told her.

Outside of their home, however, those stories felt very far away. They felt odd and misplaced, like her parents had heard them somewhere very, very far from here. Somewhere where the world was still bright and colorful and people were accepted the way they were. A world where no one was wrong, where no one felt like they didn't belong.

Her parents taught her well how to play along like they did.

"It's like a dance," her father said as he let her stand on his socked feet to dance around the living room with her, making her giggle and he tossed her up carefully and caught her again. "It's not so bad once you learn the steps."

"It's like this everywhere," her mother said kindly, quietly, but with a sadness, like she wished it were different but knew it wasn't. "All we can do is try and hold onto whatever happiness we can find."

Raine always thought it strange, that her parents made themselves smaller and quieter and milder whenever they went outside. They spoke softer and she could see the genuine emotions they bit back and ground down so they offered only a small, palatable portions to their neighbors.

The people of their town were of the opinion that strangers were to be treated with friendliness, but they should not be invited to overstay their welcome. Strange things ought to be ignored and no one ever went against what the temple priest said.

If he forbade entrance to the northern forest due to strange markings on trees or seeing a woman in a floaty, white dress disappear, no one went there. If the forbade using the river because there were ill omens, everyone washed their clothes elsewhere.

There was one thing he considered forbidden at all times, not just for seasons or until he had smoked out whatever evil he saw and that was a glittery cave up the mountain. It wasn't because the path was treacherous and would kill all but the most skilled climbers.

No, it was because he considered the cave unnatural.

Raine secretly thought that it was beautiful, it glittered in the morning sun and she could catch glimpses of it between trees and especially in winter when the trees were bare.

She couldn't help but wonder if it truly was an evil place, if it was rotten and malicious and would bring curses down on any who went their and their families to boot.

Still, she was a good girl. She didn't go where she wasn't meant to, she did as she was bid, she dressed properly and was polite and friendly and smiled, just as people wanted.

Deep down, however, she felt herself wither away bit by bit as she grew older.

The world wasn't fair, was the thing. She knew that pretty quickly once she started to notice things around her. She noticed the priest drink and not pay, even though the tavern owner was struggling to make ends meet after a bad year. All while he preached about the importance of taking care of each other and not taking advantage of people.

She saw the mayor tug the young girl he paid to keep his house back in when she wanted to leave, despite having a wife and children. The young girl never looked happy going to work, but no one said anything, even if other people noticed it.

She saw the blacksmith kick at her dog whenever she grew annoyed with its presence. When her apprentice tried to say something, she threatened to send the kid home without pay for the rest of the month.

Raine very quickly figured out the actual rules of this world. Those with power, with money and influence or just sheer physical prowess, those were the ones who decided what everyone else had to do.

It was easy to see the downtrodden, to realize just how much she herself suffered under made-up rules she had to obey, once she knew what to look for. How even those with little to no power still tried to get it from somewhere. Even if all they could do to get a scrap of it was to toss rocks at chickens to make them panic and run away. 

Raine made sure to toss rocks right back at them and before she knew it, she kept doing it. She handed bits of food to kids with bruises on their arms, who were a little too thin. Even if they weren't thin, she still gave them something. She lured the blacksmith's dog away and kept it and was surprised when no one said anything. Then again, no one ever said anything.

So she took a good, long look at the rules. She turned them around in her head and then she started to push and prod. Careful conversations with neighbors who had the same smiles at her parents, who ground themselves down to nothing and who did their best to be sensible.

Raine found out just how many people actually thought like her, how many wished for better days, for kinder hands, for softer words. For more love everywhere.

She also found out that she was getting really, really angry.

She mulled over her seething fury that was close to being stoked into actual rage and she decided that this better world everyone dreamed of, that she dreamed of, could not come to fruition if she wasn't willing to toe the line.

To break some rules.

The first thing she did was walk up the mountain and visit the crystal cave. It was even more beautiful up close and absolutely breathtaking inside. The walls shimmered and glittered, the ground beneath her was veined as though some strange, glimmering green metal was running through it like the bloodflow of the mountain.

As she followed the tunnel beyond the cave, she noticed that same metal run through the walls, winding around clusters of crystal and overlapping before splitting again.

It wasn't until she reached the end of the tunnel and it opened up into a massive space, sunlight falling in from large holes above, that she realized it hadn't been metal veins at all. It had been roots.

What stood before her was a massive tree, the leaves seemed to be made of the finest gold, the bark made of cracked and peeling brown and green gems and there was silvery sap running down one side, a blade stuck in the tree, the wound still bleeding.

On the ground before it were six skeletons with rusting and rotting armor and weaponry.

It wasn't hard to figure out what had happened here, that this group of people clearly had tried to take down the tree, most likely because it was made of everything precious that greedy people wanted. Or desperate people. Clearly, the tree hadn't taken kindly to that.

As she carefully approached, the fine golden leaves of the tree shivered in an invisible breeze and she saw fruit hanging on the branches, looking like crystalline chestnuts. She was sure that just touching the spikes of the outer shell would pierce her fingers straight through.

Raine remembered all the stories her parents had told her like secrets, like they were giving her little drops of joy and sunshine to hoard and protect lest the world took it from her forever.

She knew magic when she saw it.

"Do you want me to remove the blade?" she asked and after a moment, the tree fell quiet.

She approached very carefully and nothing happened, not when she clambered up the roots, not when she reached for the blade, her fingers closing around the hilt and when she gave it a big pull, it slid free almost effortlessly.

Raine used the momentum to toss the blade, watching it clatter across the ground and immediately it turned to rust and crumbled like all the other weaponry. When she glanced back at the tree, the wound had stopped bleeding and was slowly closing up.

Smiling, she hopped down the roots and paused in surprise when a branch shivered and lowered itself, offering one of the half opened chestnuts to her with a little shake of golden leaves.

Raine remembered all the stories about deals and binding agreements, of faerie magic and curses and wicked little creatures and monsters that wanted to trick people.

Then she thought of her life filled with oppressive, suffocating rules. Rules that she had to listen to because more powerful people had made them up and reinforced them to stay in power and she held out her hands.

She was here to break rules and not taking anything from strangers was one of the rules. The tree wasn't exactly a stranger, but it had the capability to ruin her just as much.

But she wanted to be daring. She wanted to believe that the world could be good, could be better, that all the stories about evil things and ill omens and cursed babes and wicked witches weren't all true. 

Or rather, that those people were only called bad and terrible because they could threaten those in power.

She wanted to be a threat, she realized. She wanted to be wicked and cursed if that was what it took to make things better. She wanted to grind rules to dust the same way she had learned to crush herself down until she was small and sensible and sweet and good.

The tree shivered, the leaves suddenly becoming shiny, like they had gotten polished all at once in one go, the bark gained a healthy shine and a chime like a song came from the crystals lining the walls.

The thorny shell opened and a chestnut fell out, gleaming a reddish gold and it was warm in her hands. It pulsed, like a heartbeat.

When she looked up, the tree seemed to be laughing, its leaves rustling and the crystals were humming and chiming, but it didn't feel like they were laughing at her. Raine closed her fingers around the chestnut, feeling it pulse gently, warm like a summer breeze and she found herself smiling.

It seemed that breaking the rules was one of the best ideas she had ever had.

The tree ushered her out and she left with a spring in her step and a warm heartbeat tucked into her pocket. She returned home, finding everything unchanged, but she realized that she was no longer the same.

As though her resolve had taken root within her like that strange tree in that cave and it had grown to fill her lungs, branching out and flowering and for the first time in her life, she felt like she could breathe. 

Like she could walk tall without worrying that she was overstepping. That she was too much, too loud, too rude.

Raine found in the following days that she laughed louder, talked with less and less restraint and she realized how many people started doing the same once she dared to do the first step. 

When she asked the priest about the ill omens he had seen on some fields that could not be harvested this year, even though families were struggling, he stuttered in his answer.

No one had questioned him before, at least not out loud and more and more people asked, sensing that he actually wasn't all that sure about these omens, until he said he'd take a second look.

During the next sermon, he said nothing about cursed fields and a bad harvest and even worse luck that would find them all if they ate what grew there.

When she saw the blacksmith shout at her apprentice again, she spoke up without even thinking about it. The woman looked taken aback, startled at being approached and while she cussed Raine out, she stomped away to continue her work. The apprentice sent Raine a grateful smile and the little chestnut in her pocket kept beating like a little heart.

The mayor, when she saw him grab the young girl when she tried to slip out of his house, startled just as much when Raine raised her voice. The girl used the moment to weasel away, keeping her head down and her shoulders hunched.

The mayor of course put a smile on his face and waved her off, laughing and telling her that he had to remind the girl to do a better job with scrubbing the chimneys. He joked about needing to keep an eye on people or they wouldn't work hard enough.

He squirreled away the moment he could and that evening, Raine was approached by the girl, who thanked her softly. They talked and the chestnut kept beating like a heart and the next day, the girl sent her brother in her stead, bigger and a year older and more than eager to take her place and protect her.

The girl took his job instead and where everyone at the farm told her that she was too little, too weak, too soft, she proved them all wrong. She was doing such a good job in fact, that the farm refused to let her go when the mayor showed up and by then, no other young girls wanted to work for him either.

Raine had spoken a lot with people, always carrying her chestnut in her pocket and she saw the shift among her neighbors. She saw the mayor suddenly threading more carefully as people started to get angry, she saw the blacksmith temper herself at long last when she began to lose business and the priest spoke less and less about ill omens and forbidden areas and he could no longer leave the tavern without paying.

They had grown afraid, she realized. They had grown afraid because their power had grown brittle in their hands, because people had realized that they deserved better. 

They now felt the prey-fear that everyone else had to live with whenever they had to be around the big, strong predators that had money and muscle and the authority of faith behind them.

But it wasn't enough, Raine realized as the anger within her persisted, as she found that the rules were still there, just softer now. Gentler and bit by bit, they got reinforced again with different words. Words that still played on the same old fears people had. The same old thoughts that still lingered in their heads.

And the same old, vile power slowly, bit by bit, regained its footing. Smarter now, more careful and well hidden, but it grew once again.

*.*.*

Interested in more? Don't hesitate to head to my patreon! You can find plenty of short stories there and more on my masterpost, if you'd like to check out more!

[xdaddysprincessxx]

In Every Lifetime

Demon!Ezra x Witch!Reader

Warnings: none, Reader is mid to late 20s, witchcraft, tarot, yes the witchy things depicted in this is real witchcraft things, use of Latin (look for the a/n at the end for the translation)

Summary: It’s fall of 1974 in your quiet small town of Chesterfield when everything falls apart. Or is it the beginning?

A/n: I’m super excited for this series, I hope y’all enjoy! This is not edited or beta’d, written on my phone, any mistakes are mine(: & the moodboard is made by moi!

🌙 A little ping sounds off as you enter your favorite used bookstore. The distinct smell of old books and worn leather floods your nose as you step inside. Ronald, the store owner, must be in the back, leaving the place all to yourself for the moment. You immediately head back to the nonfiction section hoping to find some books on the moon. Ever since you were little, you’ve found yourself drawn to the moon. Always a beacon of light for you in the darkness of the night. A few years ago for your birthday, your best friend Louise dragged you to a tarot reader to get your cards read. The first card the tarot reader pulled was the moon.

“Be wary of the illusion in front of you. Release your grip on your painful past and look for answers within yourself and your dreams.” the lady said.

Ever since that night you’ve poured yourself into learning everything you can about the moon, tarot and witchcraft. Since you’ve begun your craft, you’ve found you have quite a knack for kitchen witchery. But lately you’ve found yourself wanting to dabble in more mystic arts. To put it simply: you want to work more with the Greek goddess Selene and work on actually casting spells.

Lost in thought as your finger glides across all of the different book spines a sudden thud brings you back into the present. After jumping out of your skin you quickly look around trying to find the source of noise. That’s when you notice a small black book laying on the ground at your feet. Bending over to pick it up, you can’t help but feel a magnetic pull. Almost as if the book wants you to pick it up. Giving it a quick wipe to get the dust off, you realize it has no title on the front and a little lock holding it closed. Twisting the little knob you unlock the book and open to the first page. As you flip through the pages you realize it’s a journal filled with notes and little drawing of the moon, various spices and herbs and on one particular page; a drawing of a terrifying creature with horns and green eyes. Your curiosity got the better of you and you quickly put the journal in your bag before zipping it up and adjusting the strap that sits diagonally across your body. Giving the store one more quick glance around to make sure nobody saw you, you make your way back to the front and leave.

Once outside you make your way back home. The quaint little town you reside in seems quieter than normal for such a beautiful fall day. Colorful leaves scattered the ground and all the stores lining up and down main street all have their fall decorations adorning their windows. As your passing the little cafe on the corner, you can’t help but notice a stranger sitting at one of the little tables outside the cafe. Being in a small town you know everyone and everyone knows you. There is next to no type of privacy. And yet here this man sits with a small tea cup in front of him. With dark shades covering his eyes, he has a distinctive blonde patch on his otherwise dark brown hair. You find yourself staring at the man when you realize he’s smiling. At you.

“You do know it’s not polite to stare?” he says with an air of lightheartedness in a deep southern accent.

You begin to open and then close your mouth a few times before you found your words, “I am so sorry sir, I didn’t mean to stare. I- I just I’ve never seen you around here before. That’s all.”

The man’s smile widens as he sits back and tilts his head up at you, “And this is how you choose to show a stranger some hospitality?” he teases.

“I- welcome to Chesterfield mister. This cafe has a good herbal tea that cures colds and the diner down the street going”, as you point in the opposite direction, “that way has the best pancakes you’ve ever had and if your looking for something fun to do well then you’ve come to the wrong place. We have a rather rundown movie theater that only holds two movies at one time, the local high school has a pretty decent football team if your into that and here soon ole farmer Joel will be opening up his corn maze and hayrides to the public.” You say in a single breath. As much as you love living here it is a small town and there’s not much to offer.

“Well then I guess I’ll just have to find some other way to pass the time then. But thank you for that marvelous introduction to your beautiful town.” he says with a smirk still on his face.

“You have a good night now!” You say, rather high pitched, as you raise your hand to wave goodbye to the man.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

Soon enough Main Street is a distance behind you as you turn into your neighborhood. With just a little bit longer before your home, you can’t shake the feeling that your being watched. The feeling is so sudden and strong it makes you stop in your tracks. Looking around real quick to see if anyone was following you, you find your the only one outside. Now that’s weird. You’re the only one. No cars driving by, no kids outside playing, the only noise is the wind rustling the leaves. It’s as if your in a ghost town. Unnerved you start walking again, this time with a little pep in your step so you can get home faster.

You live at the dead end in your neighborhood. A small, one story brick house with a tree in the front yard and two jack o lanterns sitting with their smiling faces on your front porch. You speed walk up your driveway, speeding past your little Volkswagen bug as you make your way up the few stairs leading to your front door. You unlock your front door, getting inside and shutting the door quickly as if you were running from someone. Placing your keys on the hook you take your shoes off and go to throw your bag onto the couch. Making your way into the kitchen you pull out your favorite mug and grab the tasty tea mixture you recently made and started making you a hot cup of tea to help calm your nerves.

Walking back into the living room while you wait for the water to heat up, you plop down on the couch and go to retrieve the journal laying inside your bag. Unlocking the little lock holding the journal closed, you open it to the first page and start reading. You soon find yourself immersed in this strangers writings. Different spices and herbs listed with descriptions on the best time to use them and for what purpose, the different moon phases and rituals to do during them. Looking at your calendar you realize tonight is a full moon. Perfect you think, no time like the present to try out a ritual you found in this mystery journal. What could go wrong?

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

Excitement fills you making it hard to wait until midnight to perform this ritual. You cleared the floor of your bedroom, lifting the rug you had laying down so you could write these symbols on your hardwood floor. Sitting in the middle of the triple moon symbol drawn with chalk and covered with a mixture of cinnamon, aloe, mugwort and hibiscus combined and crushed to a powder. You have a single red candle sitting in front of you with the journal laid open to the page depicting the full moon ritual. Repeating the incantation in your head, you glance over at your clock noticing it just hit midnight. Clearing your throat you speak out loud,

Vivamus, moriendum est

Ergo dum me diligis

Cor meum tuum est

And so it shall be.

As soon as the words left your mouth, you heard a loud, incessant banging on your door right before a gush of wind blew your candle out seemingly taking every light out with it.

A/n: !!! Okay I really hope y’all like this! Yes the moon is the star of this show! The incantation is Latin meaning: Let us live, for we must die. So long as you love me, my heart is yours. Let me know how y’all like it! I’m already working on chp 2 now! Happy hauntings my little witches 🌙

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Personally, I've been curious about your eldritch au you've mentioned once or twice... but that might be because I'm a Duckett for that kind of stuff lol

Ah, no worries! I don't mind answering any questions you have!

So, for the 👾Eldritch AU, let's pick X-Men Evolution as the chosen media. The adults are way older than the kids, for one thing. Victor and Logan would be the oldest, but instead of being about 200 years old like in canon, in this they would be closer to something 200,000,000 years old. The other adults would likely range between 160,000,000 to 20,000,000 years old. Very old, older than most countries, and definitely older than the kids combined.

Now, for the teens and Reader, they are, well... pretty close to baby eldritch beings. They still appear mostly human, but for the teens, they are more in-tune with their powers, and have the adults to protect them and raise them (the adults view them as very young. Wouldn't leave them anywhere near humans unless those humans are their cults, followers, or harmless/powerless to them. You can bet that Logan and Ororo are Team Dad and Mom, with Xavier as kindly Grandfather and Hank as the polite, secretly fun Uncle/Dad. Magneto and Mystique are better parents in this au, but are very, very protective. Victor is still mostly himself, but has a soft spot for some of the kids...

Now, about the Reader: They aren't aware they are a baby elder god. They weren't aware those were real, or that there would even be others... They know they are... odd..., but they figure it is just an illness. A hallucination. Their dreams are even stranger, of things they've never seen before and beings that border between human and beast and element and who knows what else, whispers of things they never remember when they wake up. Yet one day, they end up moved into a small town, between New York and Canada, and realize this town they're in is... weird. Unsettling levels of weird. People act strange... sharp grins, manic eyes, and strange beliefs of local monsters and spirits, it seems...

It doesn't take long for the adults to realize that the new human isn't a human at all. It's a baby of their kind. And they're quite pleased. One thing they've done is send dreams and visions to any eldritch beings out there, a beacon to bring them closer to their home... It acts as a way of drawing in the baby eldritches, so the adults can offer protection (and a town full of over-protective and over-zealous humans, to act as guards and sometimes food/sacrifices, if needed/wanted). Of course, trying to get Reader to one of their altars, somewhere they can make their claim over them, is easier said than done. They're a rather skittish kid, and anything pertaining to what they are or the horrors of the town are like repellant to them. Yet, their kids are determined... They have wanted a new friend (and maybe sibling), for awhile, and the Reader looks like a good fit to them. A new personality, and someone they have to work for to keep. And Reader slowly befriends them, albeit thinking they are a little odd... but, the teens aren't anywhere near as creepy or stilted as anyone else in that sleepy town, so if for once someone wants to be their friend, they'll try...

When one of the adults is finally able to draw Reader out to one of their altars (by a dream/hallucination that has them not realizing where they're going), they're ready to introduce themselves properly this time. They have met before, in their human guise, but never as they truly are... And it's about time to explain what they are, and what Reader is... The moment Reader realizes they are in the woods in the dead of night, they're freaked out. Only for something, something they've only ever seen in their dreams, to appear... Then they promptly run.

The adult/s is/are able to stop them, but not after chasing them half-way back to the Reader's house by the edge of the woods and town... Being able to finally slow them down leaves their newest kid a trembling mess, one who really does look like the young eldritch child they are... Explaining what they are doesn't take too much effort, and Reader is now gifted answers, some they definitely didn't want. When they try to leave, asking if things can go back to normal, well... they are met with a big NO. The adult/s want to make a claim, to have Reader as THEIR kid... and they are unswerving in that goal...

So now Reader has to deal with the knowledge of what the town truly is, that their friends and their parents/guardians are something beyond comprehension, and that they're not able to leave, no matter what they do... The adult/s do go about settling them in, yet have to more times than not ... sedate... their newest child. They're gentle, but they also realize this one kid in particular is stubborn about not staying, of being scared of them, of the safe haven they've made... But, it isn't much issue to keep them close... Some love and care will do them good, along with whatever powers they can use to calm them...

It is what any parent would do for their baby...

(The teens and Reader do still get along, agreeing that the adults can be over-protective. However, the teens are okay with their parents/guardians for the most part and having Reader with them, while Reader is... not okay with it. Cuddling between the adults and kids happens. Whether in human form or eldritch deity form...)

(I hope you enjoyed this! Ask anymore questions you want, and have an awesome day!💛😊)

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Childhood Friends Masterlist

All The Small Things (ao3) - delicatehowlter

Summary: It was a lazy afternoon and Dan and Phil decided to play a game to see who could do more "bad" things to each other during the day. It was going great, until Phil decided to eat something from Dan's backpack that he shouldn't and ended up needing Dan to look after him for the rest of the night.

Or, the one where Phil steals Dan's space cake and gets high for the first time.

August (ao3) - glowingatmosphere

Summary: When Dan returns home and meets up with his childhood friend Phil after they’ve finished their first year of uni, he notices that things between them are different. As they rekindle their friendship, Dan completely immerses himself in the new feelings that he’s developing for his best friend. But when Phil starts talking about another boy, Dan begins to wonder whether Phil was ever really his.

Dandelions (ao3) - throughtheirsnoses (det395)

Summary: Phil returns to his small town after studying how to improve his power that lets him grow plants with his mind. Phil is anxious and struggling with the expectations put on him to grow new plant-based medicine and on top of it all, his childhood best friend, Dan, gets his heart broken and turns to Phil as a rebound. Phil panics.

Favorite Record (ao3) - jfcmartin

Summary: Phil’s most treasured memories are the times he had spent with his childhood best friend, Dan. Unfortunately, Dan doesn’t remember it just as much because of an accident two months after he moved away. Phil is determined to help him bring back his memories, winding up making new ones in the process.

glass houses (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: dan has an illness the doctors can’t treat. he lives in a bubble of imprisoning plastic. his life is monotonous, cold, and without any connection to the people around him. then he meets phil.

go your own way (I'd give you my world) (ao3) - itsmyusualphannie (itsmyusualweeb)

Summary: “I’m Dan,” said Dan.

Phil could not look away from him. He thought that Dan was probably the prettiest boy he had ever seen. “I’m Phil,” he said back, because it was polite to introduce oneself to people, otherwise they would remain a stranger. “Phil Lester.”

And so they became friends.

or: a Forrest Gump AU where Phil slowly falls for his best friend as the years go by, but Dan loses himself to the world and his past.

Holding My Breath (ao3) - dip_the_pip

Summary: Prompts: "I’m dying and confessing my love for you" & "I called you at 2am because I need you"

I'm Glad I Looked (ao3) - developerdaniel

Summary: aka the fic where dan and phil are neighbours and best friends and dan sees phil jerking it through his window and it sparks them to finally talk about their feelings for each other and get off to make it real.

knowing that we feel the same without saying (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: In which childhood friends Dan and Phil tell each other things they already knew.

Lost (And Found) (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: PJ suddenly goes missing, and while Phil, Chris and Louise are out looking for him, they happen upon a boy who seems to be troubled. Phil just wants to help, and vows to protect the boy from the bad people who hurt him.

Meet Me In The Hallway (ao3) - CanDanAndPhilNot (enbycalhoun)

Summary: Dan is seven years old when he meets Phil Lester and friendship comes easy for them. Over the years they meet each other in the hallway despite what life throws at them.

oh no (not now) (ao3) - kishere

Summary: It's the year 2013 and Phil, an omega, has an okay enough life. He's recently moved to London to pursue an opportunity to work for BBC Radio 1, he has a new flat, and his YouTube channel has been on an upswing. Sure, his heats are so inconsistent he finally had to ask his fiancé of five years, Dan, to help him through them so he could try and live a normal life. Which wouldn't be such an issue if Dan wasn't in love with Phil's hotter, tattooed twin, Dillon...

Passing Stranger (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: Part of him longs to be out there, under the hot Florida sun, in the refreshing water, swimming laps, letting his muscles stretch out. Who's he kidding? He just wants to be that boy in the pool, strong and effortless and carefree.

perihelion (ao3) - fleurdelester

Summary: per·i·he·li·on

the point in the orbit of a planet, asteroid, or comet at which it is closest to the sun

or

the one where Dan wants to study the stars and Phil wants to be king of the universe

Reach For The Stars (ao3) - TortiTabby

Summary: Let me tell you a queer little story of a boy named Dan...

Reconciliation of the Hopeful Kind (ao3) - yiffandquiff

Summary: Phil has been friends with Dan for as long as he can remember. But when he leaves Dan behind to go to University, he doesn't expect for his crush on Dan to grow more when he sees how different Dan looks now. Living in Manchester, he gets called home to help with his father's sudden illness. But during this time, Phil decides to contact Dan again. Reconnecting with each other, Phil realizes he doesn't want to go back to Manchester without telling Dan how he feels first.

Ribs. (ao3) - waypast0000

Summary: Dan and Phil throw a party, hoping to change their normal/loser lives. In the middle of adversities and growing up, it did, but not in the way they expected. Way, way better.

Roses are Red (ao3) - counting2fifteen

Summary: Dan wants to buy his best friend Phil an anonymous rose, and also maybe confess his feelings. The problem? Phil is the one selling the anonymous roses.

Luckily, PJ has a plan.

The Scent of Pining (ao3) - americanphancakes

Summary: Dan and Phil grew up together, but were separated by university and the mundanities of life. After years of missing each other, keeping track of each other's careers, and asking their families about each other, they finally reunite at a Christmas party back home. Surrounded by fragrances that cast their memories back to their childhood together, they each work up the nerve to finally do something about how they've been feeling for a decade.

where the orchids grow (ao3) - CapriciousCrab

Summary: Growing up together on neighboring estates, Dani and Pip's childhood friendship grows into something more. Will they risk scandal and certain ostracization for love?

words i never got to say (ao3) - dvp_95

Summary: There are a lot of people that Dan would hate to run into at this wedding, but he'd forgotten to prepare for his old best friend being there.

[iyla-devar]

Fangs & Fury || Iyla & Zane

TIMING: April 14, Iyla’s Birthday Party LOCATION: Iyla’s Home/Shimmering Sky Ba PARTIES: Iyla @iyla-devar & Zane @rn-zane SUMMARY: Zane offers himself to be Iyla's date to her birthday party CONTENT WARNINGS: alcohol, blood mentions

So apparently, regular people did live in giant houses like this and that wasn’t just something from movies. Zane had checked the provided address three times before finally daring to walk up the driveway, readjusting the lapel of his maroon blazer for the umpteenth time this evening. It didn’t quite fit right anymore, the sleeves a bit too short for his arms now, seams a bit tight around his shoulders. It was either that or an old jean jacket, which coupled with his least fabric pilled black T shirt, didn’t really scream cocktail. Or so he assumed. 

This is what he got for not saying no, not even to strangers on the internet. Well, a stranger whose name he did know now. Iyla Devar, the owner of the intimidating house he was walking up to, the host of tonight’s party and someone who was apparently loaning him a tie. This could have been so easily avoided by some white lie about working tonight but perhaps, some small part of him was curious. 

He hadn’t been to a party in… well, a while, and the fact that Iyla was so happy to invite strangers either meant she was hoping to make new friends or didn’t have many people to invite. Zane could relate to both so he soldiered on, fixing the gifts in his hands before politely knocking on the door. He had no clue whether the ribbon decorated bottle of wine was any good, seeing as he had zero experience in that department, but it had been one of the more reasonably prized bottles in the fancier shelves so fingers crossed. The box of chocolate had been grabbed as an afterthought because everyone like chocolate… right?

Feeling like he was picking someone up for prom (probably, he hadn’t gone to any of his) as he waited for the door to open, Zane took one last glance up at the giant expanse of the house. Hoping Iyla didn’t live here on her own, thinking it would probably get lonely in a giant house all by themselves. Lost in thought as the door swung open, he startled, holding out the wine and chocolates almost like a peace offering. “Hi, uhm… Zane. Happy belated birthday?”

Iyla didn’t know how to feel. She’d missed her usual week (or let’s be real, month) -long of birthday events. None of her friends had so much as texted about it, let alone thrown something together for her. And to top it off, half the fucking town had their birthday this week. It was gearing up to be the worst birthday since the one immediately following her death.

But that wasn’t going to stop Iyla from having the time of her unlife. She wasn’t one to sit around and mope, she hadn’t been like that in decades. Moping didn’t bring you back to life, didn’t bring you the one person you truly cared for, didn’t bring the heads of those responsible on a platter. No, your own action did those things. They also brought complete strangers to her very nice home on World’s End Isle. 

Iyla had selected a number of fine ties, ties she’d foreseen giving to Tomas whenever she found him. The fury hadn’t anticipated it taking quite this long, but he wouldn’t mind her lending them to an altruistic nurse. Slinging about five or so ties over the back of a plush armchair in her formal living room, Iyla went to answer the knock on the antique heart pine door, her heels a crisp staccato on the hardwood. 

The door swung open, revealing Iyla in a Mochino gold and black embroidered bustier top with a flowing black satin skirt, her hair slicked back, hinting at the styles she used to wear in the 20s. Diamonds trailed from her earlobes and dark, smokey makeup surrounded eyes that now raked over the nurse in front of her. She smiled as he thrust out his offering, making no move to take it herself. “Oh, Zane, thank you so much. This means the world. Won’t you come in? I’ve laid out a few options for you just there,” the fury gestured to the armchair. 

Zane’s carefully plastered on smile faltered for a second as he was ushered inside, gifts outstretched for a moment too long before accepting the invitation to come in. It still felt odd, the feeling of gentle force making sure he didn’t cross a threshold to a home subsiding with an invitation but everything about his current situation was odd enough to make that part low on his list of priorities to think about. Wondering if Iyla had spotted the wine label and immediately recognized it as something she hated, Zane wandered into the large living room, feeling like he should be taking his shoes off as to not disturb the immaculate set up. 

Feeling that the best option was to go with the person that was clearly comfortable with this whole situation, Zane stepped up to the armchair and carefully put the presents on the plush seat. The ties all looked nice and he had no idea if it made a difference which one he chose to go with the jacket and very scuffed up dress shoes from another of the vampires. So he stalled, turning back to Iyla while tugging at his blazer sleeves for lack of something better to do with his now free hands. “You look really nice,” he offered, gaze focused on her stunning eyeshadow and light catching earrings. The bustier top was sure to get her attention tonight but the rest of the outfit he had no idea on - she definitely looked eye catching but he wasn’t one to judge on the whims of straight men. “Definitely a birthday outfit that demands attention. 

Clearing his throat, still working through the overwhelming sensation of being in a house this nice, Zane continued talking because how else would he quiet his thoughts trying to trample over one another. “Hope this,” he gestured lamely to the blazer and dark jeans, “makes the cut. I haven’t owned a suit since I graduated high school.”

Iyla was no stranger to people being awestruck around her. Her clothing, her accessories, her homes, her face, it all brought forth a sense of unease from people she was around. Usually due to their uncontrollable envy, but it was all the same to her. The man hovered in her doorway for so long Iyla wondered if he’d been stuck there, doomed to awkwardly enter a nice home for eternity. 

Iyla glanced quickly down at the gifts he’d brought along, wondering if the closest Tiffany’s had been too far of a drive. The wine seemed reasonably priced for a Bevmo. She’d regift that one for sure. Perhaps to that other birthday woman with the child who wanted her to have happy hour to celebrate. She scoffed to herself at the thought. 

“Oh, this old thing?” Iyla feigned modesty, giving a quick twirl to show off the gown that may as well have been sewn together just for her. “I didn’t have time to go shopping for something new, so I supposed it has to do.” Of his own ensemble, however, the same could not be said. Iyla’s eyes narrowed at his jacket with too short arms, his scuffed shoes, as if she were solving a puzzle that didn’t ask to be solved. “Hmmm, I actually think I might have something for you! One moment -” Her heels clacked away to one of the many coat closets, this one specifically overflowing with coats and jackets she’d “borrowed” from ex lovers or Alan. Plucking out a deep navy number, she returned and immediately set about removing his old blazer. 

“Lucky for you, I’m a fashionista of all kinds. And I tend to have an eye for sizes…Aha!” Iyla stepped back from her human dress up doll, beaming. “Amazing what a simple coat change can do!” She crossed her arms. “Now I don’t believe I have shoes in your size, but no one will be watching your feet when the rest of you looks so good!” Or when she was stealing the limelight. 

“Why don’t you own a suit? Everyone needs one, at least one.” Iyla turned to touch up her lipstick in the mirror. “You can keep that, by the way. For the next situation where you need a fitting coat.” 

Zane was resisting the urge to squirm under the heavy gaze currently raking over his clothes, feeling overly scrutinized. Any attempt to object to more generosity from the woman died on his lips as Iyla was already storming off, continuing to demand control of the situation with the simple act of her heels clicking. The navy jacket she returned with did look nice, definitely nicer than what he was wearing. Again, his words didn’t manage to leave his mouth, the ‘thank you’ you going silent when swift hands were pulling at his blazer. 

Trying to keep up with the rapid movements, turning this way and that to allow himself to… well, be dressed in the jacket by this still-stranger, Zane almost could have laughed at the absurdity that the first person to ever remove his clothes like this was a woman. A very beautiful woman, sure, but not quite his type. It was over quickly, his old blazer discarded and the new one - as promised - fitting snugly. 

Iyla looked happy and well, if choosing some stranger’s outfit gave her this much joy then Zane wasn’t going to ruin that moment. Especially not on her birthday. “Very lucky,” he finally agreed, hands brushing over the fabric. It felt nice, probably more expensive than the whole of his closet combined. “And you’re definitely good with sizes.” A genuine smile finally found its way onto his lips.  Moving closer to the mirror when she did, Zane watched the woman deftly apply her lipstick, feeling a note of envy for magic of makeup. 

“I don’t know, there’s never been an occasion for me to need a suit in the last years. At least none that I’ve attended. Going solo gets a bit much after a while, anyway.” Zane slid his hands into the pockets, somehow even softer than the outside material, and smiled gratefully at Iyla’s reflection. “Thank you. I’ll try to get myself into more situations fitting of such a nice coat.”

If Zane was uncomfortable with her dressing him, Iyla paid him no mind. It wasn’t the first time she’d dressed a man and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. So hopeless, the lot of them. She stood back, admiring her work in the reflection. Just the simple change out of a blazer and the entire ensemble worked. It wasn’t perfect, the scuffed shoes, the wrinkled shirt, the slightly too short pants, but the fury wasn’t sure she had the time or permission to rip off Zane’s pants. 

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” Iyla murmured, realizing she’d been so focused on the suit she never even bothered to realize there was no face above said jacket, not in the mirror at least. Interesting. Her eyes flickered back to the real person beside her, her gaze now more scrupulous than ever. 

“No occasions?” Not even a funeral suit? Iyla thought. “There’s always an occasion, even more so if you’re going solo. You never know when there’s someone out there to impress.” Suddenly this interaction seemed more interesting than her party, which was saying something. “If you ever need a date to a function, I will almost never say no,” she offered, knowing damn well if the event wasn’t up to her standards she would 100% say no. “Or does your work keep you from attending?” Or your non-reflection? 

Fine, there had been occasions. Staff parties, hospital galas, birthdays. Going solo meant more than just showing up without a date, though. It was quite literal, showing up alone and shuffling around people he knew from work while they talked about their personal lives, which were complete mysteries to him. Zane knew a lot of it was his fault, a combination of lack of trying and anxiety that he wouldn’t fit in even if he did. It always seemed better to not go. 

“I’m pretty rusty in the impressing department too. If my total lack of date clothing didn’t give it away,” he joked, turning away from his host to have another look at the ties. Now that he had an actual, nice piece of clothing on, the task of choosing seemed a bit less daunting. Zane settled on a nice blue one, a lighter color than the jacket he’d been given, a distant memory of someone mentioning that blue highlighted his eyes rearing its head. “Work. General lack of social standing. The fact that I don’t drink,” he rattled off, turning back to Iyla with the tie hanging limp around his neck. He wasn’t even going to attempt to make the knot and even if he had, something told him the fashion-forward woman would have fixed it afterwards, anyway. 

“And that’s a really nice offer but if I were trying to… impress someone, bringing you might give the wrong impression.” It felt nice to get it out there, to prevent any fumbled comment of his from being taken as flirting. “Aside from the fact that you’re way out of my league, you’re also on the wrong… team?” It was hesitant, a part of him still always expecting push back to the realization. The smile that followed was hopeful in a way. Iyla was… strange. But definitely not boring and underneath the glamorous house and general disregard for most things, there was a hint of something nice. At least Zane wanted to believe that, feeling his new gift on his shoulders as a reminder. 

Iyla stepped over to the array of gifts the reflectionless man had brought over. She attempted to hide her wrinkled nose at the wine’s brand, bringing it over to her silver bar cart anyway. It was the thought that counted, right? At least it was wine that might get him talking more. Did he know he was dead, like her? Did he even know there was no one looking back at him when he smiled at himself in the mirror? Iyla knew better than most how hard that transition was, from life to life after death. Her own stubbornness had made her what she was, and Iyla doubted that her relatively slow acceptance to her new fate had helped anything in that department. 

“Well practice makes perfect, you know.” Iyla popped the cork with ease, setting the bottle down to let it breathe while she selected two crystal glasses, her hand pausing as he said he didn’t drink. “Ah, so a little less fun, but no less in need of socialization.” She put one of the glasses back and poured herself a hearty cupful. “I have tonic or sparkling water?” Iyla offered, ever the hostess, her fingers already reaching for a rocks glass that had seen World War 2. 

Iyla nodded, a sly smile winding onto her face. “Ahhh, there it is. Is someone not comfortable in their own skin? Is that why you don’t go out to parties?” The fury had plenty of friends, many of them all over the spectrum. She, herself, didn’t like to be tied down to one gender. Perhaps being undead wasn’t his only hangup regarding hang outs. 

Iyla would have blushed had blood still moved within her. She was always a sucker for compliments. “What a shame,” she purred, setting her wineglass down as she set about preparing the tie he selected. “For someone who claims not to be fashionable or wear suits, you have good taste.” She was, of course, referring to her being out of his league as well as the tie he chose. “This one brings out your eyes.”

It was definitely a change, the instant acceptance of him not drinking. The excuses had already started forming on his lips when the cork was popped but died just as quickly. If anything, it made his stance on the whole thing completely flip, eyeing the now full glass with curiosity. It wasn’t like Zane was staying sober for a reason, more so a force of habit and general distaste for the bitterness or sting of all alcohol. “I should at least try it since I brought it.”

Not that thought out but this whole evening felt very spur of the moment, anyway. Zane was wearing someone else’s clothes, in a house that made him feel a little bit like a movie star and there was something about the woman that felt slightly dangerous but not in the life threatening way. Wasn’t alcohol supposed to be a bit of an anxiolytic, anyway? 

The questions that followed were slightly condescending in nature but they didn’t quite hit the spot of making him want to recoil like when the other members of the clan called him ‘the freshman’. It felt more teasing but not quite judgemental. More so just… the way Iyla seemed to be, from what little he was starting to learn about the woman. “I guess,” Zane admitted, chin tilting up as she worked on the tie. “Even though male nurse usually makes people assume correctly.” The smell of her perfume wafted into his nose, the scent nice. Classy. Fitting for the woman currently complimenting him, making him fluster and feel grateful for his inability to blush. 

“Thanks,” he stuttered out, nervous hands running over the perfect knot of the tie. His smile was lopsided as Zane reached for the glass she’d poured him after the rash decision made earlier, delving deeper into the unthought out plan as he took a sip. He’d never had wine before and would now never know how it was supposed to taste, but the faint sweetness and irony aftertaste was definitely… pleasant. Clearing his throat, he glanced over at the clock hanging on the wall. “We should get going, right? Guest of honor and everything.”

Iyla’s fingers lingered on the man’s tie, the whole impromptu evening feeling so familiar. She used to flirt and dress all her friends, men, women, gay, straight and everything in between. Of course, back in her prime things were much less accepted, but no less common. Her soirees were the talk of the town not only because they were lavish and second to none, but also because they were accepting. 

“Ugh, you’d think we would have outgrown the idea that nurses and handmaids are meant to be feminine and weak, as if you don’t do more than half the doctors where you work, am I correct?” Iyla’s nose wrinkled, this time from the misogynistic way the world worked. Even in the 20s and 30s, Iyla never liked to succumb to the female stereotypes laid out before her. Socialite, sure. Kept housewife? Never.

Iyla sighed, downing the rest of her wine like a shot - it honestly tasted better that way - and snatched her purse off the coat rack. She glanced at Zane out of the corner of her eye, watching how he sipped at the wine he said he didn’t drink. Vaguely, she hoped she hadn’t helped him break some important act of sobriety, but the thought was quickly banished. What would it matter to her if he had? So long as he didn’t ruin the party. In fact, Iyla hoped he might loosen up a bit, maybe even dance with a cute boy or two. She smiled and snaked her arm through his. 

“You’re right, we should be off.” Iyla nodded down at the glass in his hand. “If you enjoyed that, I have a bottle of Cristal in the car you can try. It’s vintage.” She wondered if he was as well, or if his undeath was shiny and new. “Now, let’s go make an entrance.”

The sensible part of his brain knew that one didn’t get drunk from two sips of wine, no matter their experience with alcohol. Even so, that was the feeling Zane had as the glamorous lady of the house led him outside to a sleek and shiny car, where the doors were opened for them by an elderly gentleman who addressed him as ‘sir.’ Not in the annoyed way that patients sometimes did when they were tired of waiting, calling it at his back as he tried to do five things at a time. No, it was respect. Granted, respect that radiated of Iyla and clearly seemed to affect everyone in her vicinity but the feeling was definitely a rush. 

Cristal - a quite fancy champagne, Zane learned - was nice. It didn’t taste like much to his very picky tastebuds but the bubbles made it very pleasant to drink and toasting with Iyla in the back of a freaking town car was making it easy to pretend he was someone else for a moment. Someone who drank champagne, went to parties and knew most of the people there, was greeted by everyone he walked up to. The feeling of being that person overwhelmed whatever sense he usually claimed he had and the bottle was empty by the time they reached Iyla’s party. Who had drank more, Zane wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t really feeling anything so it was fine. 

Just like when they’d left the house, Zane offered his arm to Iyla when she stepped out the car, finding himself to fit quite nicely into this role. With the way his companion looked, no one would really take notice of the pitfalls in his current outfit. If just for tonight, he could totally be chill and not overthink everything. The decorations inside were nice, the people dressed even nicer and it overwhelmed him for a second as he tried to remember the last time he’d been to an event. Despite the lack of practice, Zane had watched enough TV to know the next part his current role demanded of him. “Get you a drink?” he asked Iyla, already scanning the place for the bar. 

Towncars and limos were so commonplace for Iyla, she’d forgotten the wonder they had over people. Feeling like a rockstar, feeling glamorous even if it was only by association, Iyla was always the provider of these feelings, and while in the past it made for shallow friendships, she never minded. Not to mention, Zane seemed much different from the twittering girls who usually clung to her sequined skirts and leather seats. Leonard drove them in style while Zane tried his first Cristal, not an event he was sure to forget. Even if the popular stuff didn’t taste all that much better than a Dom Perignon, the experience was one to remember. 

Iyla, impressed with Zane’s manners as they exited the car, felt on top of the world. This was her playground, her native surroundings. A party, all for her. Not for all those other birthdays, just her, even if a few of them swung by for a drink. She took his arm, proud to be dangling from the altruistic and now well dressed Mr. Invisible Reflection, ready to begin the night’s festivities in earnest. 

“Thank you, such a gentleman,” Iyla purred, intent on not fidgeting over the misplaced centerpieces or lack of ice sculpture she’d ordered last minute. How hard was it to carve an ice dancer in less than five hours? “I’ll take a vodka gimlet, make sure they use Rose’s Lime Juice.” Her eyes were already roaming over the crowd, a bit light for her taste, but it was still early enough. For a moment, she had a flash of that disastrous night, flames licking up the curtains, Tomas’ face disappearing behind a wall of fire. 

Iyla cleared her throat and smiled. “I’ll just be a moment, have to make the rounds of course. Come and find me when you get those drinks, doll.” 

Something flashed in Iyla’s eyes, barely visible in the room’s faint glow but it was there. Only for a second, her previous persona returning almost instantly. Zane wondered if she was worried about the party, wanting it to go well, but he didn’t ask. She was already moving on to other thoughts, whatever the fleeting one had been about, it was dismissed, and Zane decided to let her. His self assigned job tonight was making sure Iyla enjoyed her birthday. She probably didn’t need any help with that but as of right now, she was the only person he knew here, however little he did know. 

Her drink was ordered with utmost care, the bartender giving a pleased nod at Zane when he made the special request. As if he knew anything about what he’d just ordered. The order was made for two drinks, if only so he had something to hold onto and better blend into the crowd, and then the mission of finding Iyla began. People were chatting happily all around, sipping various drinks and seeming to be having a generally good time. A brief thought, wondering just how many of these people Iyla actually knew. As he stood, thankful for the extra height in allowing him to better survey the crowd in the hopes of finding Iyla, a woman approached. She seemed tipsy but friendly. 

“Ah, who’s the lucky lady getting a drink delivery?” she asked, hand unnecessarily running over his upper arm. The first thought was that he didn’t have a lucky lady but, in the weird twist of events that this evening was, Zane was indeed delivering drinks to a lady. Looking around for said lady, with no luck, he smiled sheepishly. “The host actually. I was on my way to find her, so-” His sentence was caught short as the woman scoffed, grabbing one of the drinks from his hand with not so much as a hint of hesitation. “Iyla? Why bother with her. Honestly.” Zane shifted uncomfortably, making one last attempt at spotting the woman currently being trash talked by this stranger. 

This was Iyla’s element. Drinks flowing, music pumping, people dressed to the nines, all for her. This town wasn’t the most happening in the country, nor was it the highest class, but the Sky Bar offered at least a modicum of quality. She stopped chatting for just a moment, gazing out over the peaks, a faint glow emanating from behind the mountains. It was almost magical.

Iyla’s magic wasn’t beautiful like that. Sometimes it could be, but it was tinged with something darker, something bitter. Revenge may be sweet, and it certainly tasted that way to the fury, but it could be hollow too. Especially when it wasn’t her own. Coming back to the party at hand and wondering what was taking Zane so long, Iyla smiled and excused herself from a banal conversation, just in time to hear her name. Her name accompanied by the words ‘why bother with her’. 

Fury rose within her, not an uncommon feeling but one she hadn’t thought her party would induce. Iyla stomped in Zane’s direction, her attention on the drunk woman beside him, the woman holding her drink and tarnishing her name. “Funny, I was about to say the same about you,” Iyla snarled, crossing her arms over her sequined bodice. “Apologies, but I don’t remember stating ‘Messy drunk bitches’ on the invitation.” Power rolled off her, and even though she couldn’t do anything with it, not until someone asked her to, Iyla knew it was felt. She might not be able to use her magic, but she could still use one thing. 

Iyla slapped the drink upward so quickly the vodka missed the woman’s face entirely, though the martini glass didn’t. Shards of glass sprinkled her cakey foundation, small droplets of blood blossoming while fresh tears started. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I’m so clumsy sometimes!” Iyla feigned innocence, snapping for a waitress to come and call a med kit. “Here, Iris will get you all fixed up, but I do think you should grab a cab home…you don’t want to bleed all over the carpet.” She turned to her date who wasn’t a date but also was. “Let’s go get another drink while Messy Martha here gets fixed up.”

Iyla’s appearance was a tangible relief, loosening the knot in his chest because she could definitely take charge of this situation and get Zane out of it. There was no way she had the same response as him to awkward scenarios as these, which usually ended way too close to the ‘freeze’ spectrum of stress response. This instant relief was very short lived however as another feeling washed over him, seeming to resonate off his non-date for the evening. She was angry in a way he had somehow assumed someone as composed as Iyla couldn’t get. His longing to end this situation finally overpowered the awkward politeness but it was too late. 

There was blood and crying and a small commotion, controlled completely by the woman Zane was now realized he didn’t really know at all. Instinct told him to help the injured woman but what he assumed was the champagne from before seemed to be settling in, making his head feel like it was filled with cotton. Which made it really hard not to focus on how good the blood smelled, even through the stinging smell of vodka. So he let Iyla usher him away from the scene towards the bar where it felt safer, the piercing look that had been in his companion’s eyes seconds before the glass exploded still reeling in Zane’s head. 

The second glass he’d gotten for himself, mostly as a prop, was raised to his lips for a lack of something better to do as Zane tried to get a hang on what had just happened. Iyla ordered her drink and he watched her curiously. She was back to the persona he’d witnessed for most of the evening, seeming completely unfazed by the whole thing. “I’m sorry about your drink,” he finally said dumbly, not sure where else to begin. “She sort of just… took it.” A pause. “Are you… okay?” Asking Iyla that and not the woman who was being escorted out with napkins pressed to her face was odd but it seemed the safest question to ask at this moment. 

A flurry of waitresses and bar staff surrounded Martha, a woman who for some reason thought she was always invited to Iyla’s parties even though she always made a scene. Someone had screamed and there were hushed whispers, wondering what happened, but just like any other party, it dissipated quickly. There were other, more fun, events happening, and one case of a spilled drink or a few flecks of blood wasn’t going to keep a crowd down for long. 

Iyla ordered them another pair of drinks, this time taking hers directly from the bartender. She raised it to her lips, finally tasting the perfectly crafted cocktail, one her mother had taught her how to make to perfection but so many got wrong. “Ugh, I’m sorry you had to see that. I know it wasn’t your fault, that bitch always thinks she can just take anything that’s mine. Drinks, men, women, shoes…” Iyla settled against the bar, leaning her elbow on the surprisingly unsticky surface and looked up at Zane. Poor thing looked like he’d seen a ghost. 

Iyla’s voice went from annoyed to sincere in a matter of seconds. “Oh, and I’m sorry about the blood. Was that hard for you? Or if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine too. We can just drink and dance and stargaze.”

Zane drank when she did, knowing that alcohol for worry and stress wasn’t recommended for a reason but this evening was already a mess so he let the sour-sweet taste of the drink soothe him. It seemed that Iyla had a long standing feud with the woman and even though he couldn’t say he agreed with the host’s methods, it was definitely rude to show up to a birthday, drunk, and start berating the birthday girl to anyone willing to listen. His shock over the whole situation was fading, whether under the comfortable blanket of alcohol or because he felt a bit sorry for Iyla having an unwanted guest, and Zane found that he much preferred the sincere version of Iyla. 

“The blood…?” Had she noticed him staring? His eyes hadn’t changed, had they? No, this was way too calm of a response to anything like that. She was just being kind. “Oh, no! I mean, I see way more than that at work, just… caught me by surprise is all.” It was easy to forget that Iyla had verbally and physically hurt a woman, literally moments ago, when she was being kind and almost genuine now. And trying to enjoy this evening in the way they’d been having fun before in the town car, letting her dote over his tie and chuckle at how much Zane liked the champagne, seemed much more appealing than the evening being ruined by this. Ruin the risk of friendship. 

“I have two left feet but if you’re willing to risk it, me dancing can definitely be your worst birthday present this year.” 

“Yes, the blood.” And the no reflection. Iyla was constantly grateful she hadn’t been made into a vampire, losing her ability to see herself in the mirror, plus the taste of blood…the though had her wrinkling her nose. To anyone else, it must have come off as someone who simply couldn’t handle the sight of blood. “Mhm…” She placated, her eyes narrowing just a bit. A newbie, then, she decided. Most older vampires she knew wore it proudly, once someone was in the know. But perhaps that was just the crowd she ran in. No point in pretended we aren’t what we are, she thought. Might as well embrace it.

Iyla smiled at her date for the evening. Sexual attraction or not, Zane here was her lovely ken doll for the evening, a perfectly wonderful plaything that she wanted to drag out of whatever shell he was hiding in. She downed the rest of her drink, all the alcohol she’d ingested finally making its way to her brian. Curses of being undead. “Well then let’s forget that ugliness, and cut a rug.” Iyla held out her arm, waiting for Zane to be the gentleman and lead her out to the floor. “I can think of no better present.” And for once, for one inexplicable moment, she actually meant it.

[small-sinclair]

Forgiveness is the Hardest Part

This is a warm up for another writing prompt.

Another idea based off this post by @sketchy-rosewitch. I thought about it and went through it over the phone with my sister (she doesn't know what HoW is, but she likes that I'm finally writing again :3). Anyways, enjoy this angsty one.

Maybe there's a part 2 or something? Let me know!

Bo x male!Oc (Anthony)

Tw: mentions of deaths and murders, character injury, gun, near death oc, religious themes mention, blood, mention of past tortures/abuse, hints of homophobia, not proofread

The soft pinks that light the dusk sky lowered to a deep purple, fading into the night's heat in Louisiana. The clouds from the day left to give onlookers a clear night's view, and the full moon shined its light below to guide a path through the dense forest road leading back to Ambrose. Lester's truck jumped back and forth as he drove with the passenger next to him, who was clenching a small black backpack.

His white collar under the black folds of his shirt shined like a stars in the sky that night. His dark brown hair was tucked under a Green Bay Packer's ball cap, worn from work and faded by the sun. His heavy green eyes were tired from tonight's events that left him at the mercy of a stranger, and his head pounded as if he was by the loudest speaker. His left leg broken and bruised, but he didn't seem to wince at his pains as he held his mother's rosary between his fingers. He was the youngest clergy server in his group strong and built well enough to lift two spare tires with ease, and he's the only one that was... tainted. Maybe that's the men did all those things? Tortured him by burning his arms and back, cutting too deep into his legs until he couldn't walk, kept punching him until stars was seen in the sunlight.

His God suffered, so he has too as well. That's how sinners are forgiven--that have to suffer to find the light once more before relaxing in the waters in the spring.

"'Bout there," Lester reassured again. "Bo'll fix ya righ' up, Father."

"Please, Lester," the pastor looked over at Lester, trying to meet his brown eyes, "call me Anthony. Ain't a Father yet."

Lester tapped nervously at the wheel as they came closer to the town's lights and the soft music from the speakers above the streetlamps. He didn't feel comfortable bringing a man of faith to this place to die. Talk about leading the lamb to the slaughter, huh? Still, Lester forced a caring smile. "'S a nice name, Anthony."

Anthony leaned his head against the glass, silently sending a prayer of blessings for Lester and his kindness. If he didn't show up when he did to haul off the roadkill deer, Anthony might've been through worse. He closed his eyes, praying Lester would have carefree days with ease and to have thanks for his service of deposing God's creatures. He rested his hand on the seat, praying over his truck for safe travels and for it to take Lester miles away from here.

When he was finished, he felt the truck die and Lester getting out. Anthony opened the door and helped himself out, Lester joining his side to help support him to get inside the little gas station. The gas station looked like it was stuck in time as if it was still the 1950s, but he loved it! He loved the orange and blue lights and the little "Gas" sign over the pumps; he felt like he stepped into a slice of heaven. Inside the station, it smelled like rust and oil, a smell he knew all too well from his childhood thorough working in his dad's shop.

He groaned as Lester sat him down in the black chair by the door, and Lester hurried around the counter. "Le' me go see if he's still 're."

"Take your time," Anthony said through a painful smile, trying to stay as polite as he could. "I got all night."

Lester gave one last look behind him before going into the back. Of course, Bo would be down stairs in his... what the hell should Lester call it? Sex dungeon? Prison? Chamber of Torture and Pleasure? All he knows is he hates going down there to see if Bo is there with a "pretty little thing". He knocked on the closed door before entering, almost regretting his choice. He turned his head away at the smell of fresh blood and Bo's spice, but he was glad to see no dead girl strapped to the chair like the last time.

Bo was at the chair, cleaning it with bleach and vinegar. He looked up at Lester and raised a brow. "The hell's matter with ya?" He snapped, throwing the rag down. "You know betta than ta be down here!"

Lester flinched at his voice. "Bo, we have another one--"

"Good," Bo said, wiping his hands on his blue jeans. "Still in the mood fer some killin'."

"Not this one."

Oh... this is new.

Bo stepped over his cleaning supplies and towered over Lester. "The hell do ya mean?" He tilted his head as his eyes stated dangerously calm.

"There's a hurt pastor upstairs," Lester stated. "And I don't want ya to kill 'im."

Bo's hands gripped Lester's faded red jacket as he shoved his brother against the wall. "Tellin' me wha' to do? Because the last I checked, ya don't kill people, yellow belly."

Lester's face harden but his eyes fell. He knew he couldn't stop a storm or a tornado, but he was hoping to to tray and calm this one. "Fine," his voice was low and sad, "but make it quick? Don't want 'im to suffer more than he 'lready has."

Before Bo could ask what he meant, the sound of tires pulling overhead outside made them look up through the drain above. They stayed silent as they heard car doors slam, men laughing and howling when they see something--or someone-- they've been hunting. Lester's hands pushed his brother back and led the way upstairs, Bo, who was still confused as all hell, went up after him.

Pastors don't fight, unless you're Father Quintin, who kicked Bo's ass when he was caught stealing from the alter plate when he was a teenager. So, why did it shock him to see two men drawing a man with a broken black collar towards the street? Why did his stomach hurt when he heard one of the four men hitting the other's eye, bruising it raw until blood flowed from the brow? Why did his eye twitch in anger when one pulled a knife to stab the other? Why did it feel so right to run back into the garage and take the shotgun off the wall, taking off the safety, and rushing out to join his brother--

Anger boiled heat as his blood ran cold when he saw Lester on the gravel. Blood trickled down his forehead as a one of them men stood over him with a blooded, hardback Bible in hand. Lester lifted his head to meet Bo's bright blues before his head laid down, his body doing limp in a snap...

Then there was a flash to something from before. The sight of the bloodied Bible corner and his little brother on the ground took him back to the time when his father was drunk, and he tried to "beat the devil" out of his little brother. He felt like he was reliving a frozen moment in his life, but the only difference between that helpless boy and now was that Bo has a fully loaded shotgun.

"Hey!" Bo's voice was hard as he got the man's attention. Without warning, he shout the Father between the eyes. God, that felt good.

The gunshot rung throughout the silent town, making three men look towards Bo and their fallen friend. Bo grinned wickedly as he pumped the shotgun back in action, pointing it at the man who was hitting the other. Forgiveness won't come easily after this, Bo knows this, but he was far from holy light. He was bathed in the muddy waters of the swampland and blessed by led and iron.

In a hurry, they dropped their "friend" and ran off in different directions. Bo raised his gun and shot the back of one and missed the other two, but they'll do. They were heading right towards Vincent's hellscape. He hoped that it was hell on earth for the holiest of folks.

Bo unloaded the gun as he walked over to the bleeding pastor.

He was clinching his rosary tightly as Bo's shadow crossed over him like an angel's shadow over a fallen devil. The click of his gun made the stabbed pastor jolt and he lifted his head, but Bo didn't find his eyes to be fearful or horrified of him. Bo's stomach emptied as he watched the man struggle to his knees, black shirt ripped at the sleeves, and he sat on the back of his legs. Glazed eyes looked up at him, right at him, as a river of blood flowed from his lips and nose. The white under his black collar stained from dirt and bloodshed by his own brother, and it made his chest swell in hurt and butterflies.

He looked like Saint Sebastian. the one with arrows littering his body but still alive.

"You... you Bo?" The man breathed out, tired and hurt. "'M Anthony." Why did the lights hurt his eyes? Where was the fog coming from? "Les-Lester talked of... of you?" Anthony's eyes rolled back as his body fell to the side. He readied himself to hit his head, but rough, callous hands caught him, and he was rested against the warmth of someone's thigh.

His eyes parted to see the most beautiful angel in blue mechanic uniform and curly brown hair under a "Sweetbird '69" trucker's hat. But those blue eyes... goodness, grace him with the ocean and he would turn away just to see those instead. He could've sworn he saw the River of Jordan reflecting in Bo's eyes, forever locked and still in rage and sadness. How many sins does Bo feel on a daily? How many times did he fall to his knees for forgiveness at night? Anthony wanted to hear every hymn pour from his lips and answer any prayer he had. But why is God showing him his best angel at his last moments on earth? Why now?

"Hang in there, Father," Bo said, his hand over the stab wound. "I'll get you help."

"Bo," Anthony repeated, a small smile curling on his lips. Everything was feeling darker than before. It was getting harder to stay awake as his head pounded. His chest raised and fell, feeling skin from the wound rip slowly. He heard the echoes of screams and painful cries from a darken wax house, but his eyes drifted to the clear skies above. So many stars painted on a black canvas tonight. What a blessing it is to share it with him. "Bo," he whispers, saying his name as if it's the most holiest thing on his tongue; as if it was the beautiful name he's ever heard. He had to say it one more time, just once more. Let him call his angel by his name one more time, dear Lord. "Bo..."

The moon reflected off his eyes, showing the stars above back in Bo's. Bo swallowed dryly as he held the Father closer in his arms. His listened to his dragged breaths and drawn-out sighs. Bo closed his eyes as the warmth of the blood flowed through his closed fingers, falling like a river on the street below. He felt like Mary holding her son for the last time, and it wasn't a feeling he wanted to have. It's like he was born to hold dying faiths and believers. Inside his arms, he was the keeper of death and final wishes for the dead, and deaths like these made his heart break.

Lester hated seeing people die, and now he knows why. He knows why he doesn't kill a human or want to be around when their last breaths caved out of collapsing chests and lungs.

Wheezing, Anthony tugged Bo on his button shirt. Glazed eyes looked upon him as if he was more than a killer, more than human and flesh mixed together. His lips moved, but no noise escaped. He tried again, wanting to forgive Bo for his sins, but his words were choked and hard to force out--

"It alright, Father," Bo reassured, a sad smile formed over his lips. "You c'n res' now. I'll take 'i from 're."

The full moon casts her light through twisted trees and branches from behind. Anthony squinted his eyes and gasped softly. The angel in the mechanic suit looks as if he was a fallen angel crawling back from hell after being rejected from the Lord, and it broke his heart more. His lips a soft pink and smooth to look at; skin warm and rough from hard work. Shining blue eyes filled with regret, and Bo's heart started aching just to see the fading air that escaped Anthony's lips. Maybe in a different life he and Bo would be happy? Maybe he would've came sooner and found safety in Bo's arms and gaze? Anyone would be lucky--

Bo clicked his tongue as he stood up, carrying the father in his arms as if he was a child. "No, Father," Bo said in a hushed voice. The warm southern wind wrapped around him, the leaves in the breeze sounding like wings wrapping around a strangling snake. How pathetic he must look to the ravens above and the stars that cross the careless sky. "Yer not dyin' 're." He shook his head as he heard Lester stir in the gravel. "Not in this hell."

Anthony wanted to know more, but his eyes rolled. the last thing he saw was the fading, wicked horns that the branches casts along Bo's skin.

[kirill-kaprizov]

falling and falling until i...

pairing: eddie munson/oc (cynthia moose)wc: 1.5k note: god these two are so dumb thank u. also technically a part three to dealer's choice BUT it can be read as a stand alone <;3 warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of drugs and alcohol

Eddie forgot her name, and at this point it’s too late to ask her.

or 3 more times Eddie and Moose meet-up. All told from Eddie’s perspective.

READ ON: ao3 ✰ wattpad ✰ ff.net ✰ quotev

MARCH 1984

“Your dad is Lionel Moose, right? The cop?”

“Yeah, he retired a year, year and a half ago.” The girl explained, kicking at the dirt beneath her feet, dreading the inevitable follow-up question.

“Oh. And how is he doing?”

Eddie sat beside the girl on the bench, almost pressed together, facing opposite directions. She was nearly silent, trying to sputter out a response… and as she did, he felt guilty.

“Shit,” he mumbled to himself, feeling like he should’ve known this. Hell, he probably did (small town and whatnot.)

Peering over at Moose, he didn’t really know how to comfort this grieving girl, she was basically a stranger.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

She cut him off with a raise of her hand as she looked up, making proper eye contact for the first time in this rendezvous. Her deep brown eyes seemed weary as she said, “no, you’re fine. I’m mostly normal about it now.”

He sighed, mentally kicking himself, “no, man, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Word vomit was Eddie’s forte.

“How about this?” The upperclassman proposed, “I cut you a deal this time: fifteen bucks for the half.”

Glancing back at Moose, she let out a chuckle, eyes still watery, “is it that easy to get a discount? I just gotta put on the waterworks for ya?”

“Just this once, Moose.” He jokingly rolled his eyes, proud he was able to make this girl laugh after he almost made her cry.

“Sure,” She smiled as he looked away and set his little black box onto the table.

Next thing he knew, their arms brushed together momentarily before a bill between a pair of slender fingers came into view next to the aforementioned box. Eddie took the pair of ten dollar bills and he still felt her big, sad eyes on him, as if she was studying him at this moment.

He didn’t say anything as he glanced over and she was still staring. But once she realized he was looking back at her, she tore her eyes away quickly with a near smile gracing her face.

There were a few moments of silence as he sorted everything out, “here you go, Moose.” Eddie handed over a baggie and a five dollar bill.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, pocketing both the items. “Probably be a week or two before I seek you out again. Just as a heads up.”

Eddie nodded, packing up the box  and sliding it over as he watched her stand up from the table. “Sure thing, I’m pretty easy to find. Here or the arcade, sometimes the body shop on Pine.”

She walked away, nodding, and before she left the clearing, she turned back and with a smile on her face, she gave him a kind wave and said, “See you around, Eddie.”

It occurred to him at that moment while he gave a polite wave back that he never got her name.

.•*•.•*•.

DECEMBER 1984

Eddie didn’t eat school lunch most days, usually opting for bringing his own assortment of snacks. But who could resist pizza day? Nobody.

He stood in line alone, next in line to grab a tray, when he felt a tug on the pocket of his jean vest. He didn’t react right away as he heard giggles behind him. Jesus, it was probably some sick prank. Unfortunately, his curiosity got the better of him and he peered over his shoulder.

Behind him in line was Moose, a sheepish look on her face as a trio of girls skittered away and left her in the lunch line alone.

“Hey, Munson.” She greeted, slipping a piece of notebook paper into the front pocket of her overalls.

“Hi, Moose.” He felt mostly at ease as he turned around with a chuckle, slipping a hand into the pocket that was just messed with.

Despite having a moment of relief, he remembered the few conversations he had with Jeff and Wally concerning the last time he actually spoke to the girl behind him. They were convinced that she asked him out back in October, which is coincidentally the last time they spoke. (Not like they really talked outside of her buying weed from him or when he’d pop up wherever she found herself working for the time being.)

Pulling a neatly folded piece of paper out of the pocket that was being messed with, he laid it on the blue tray and it read, in very sloppy handwriting, ‘GOT ANY?? :)’

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled to himself as he started going through the lunch line, the girl with the note right next to him.

As the pair dished up together, they made plans to meet out behind the school, opting to not go to the clearing on account of the snow that was coming down pretty heavily the whole morning.

Eddie was already outside, jacket zipped up and a cigarette between his fingers when Moose walked out grumbling to herself, an angry look on her face.

“You alright?” Eddie asked, taking a drag.

“No.” She stopped beside him, leaning against the brick. “Ate shit coming out of the gym.”

He looked down and winced when he saw her jean overalls tattered on the knees; dirt, snow, and blood coating the area. “You should probably go to the nurse.”

“Think so?” She kicked her leg out, peering at the mess over her oversized jacket. “Yeah, it’s usually pretty bad if the denim gets ripped, right?”

“Usually.” He shrugged. “Maybe this can wait until later if you just want to go there now?”

“No,” she protested, lighting brushing the dirt off the knees of her pants, wincing as she did so. “I need to wrap this up before school ends. I’m going for a drive right after.”

“Busy night, Moose?”

Shrugging, she straightened back up, digging through her pockets. 

He watched her in silence, really trying to imagine if he said yes to her invitation to the Halloween party. And the more he thought about that scenario, the more he didn’t believe his friends. Admittedly he wanted to say yes that day but then he remembered who her friends were and he couldn subject himself to that (as selfish as it sounds). 

If she were to ask again.. maybe—

“Here you go.” Her hand was in front of his chest, a bill between her fingers.

.•*•.•*•.

AUGUST 1985

He would’ve thought Moose was one of the victims in the mall fire if he hadn’t actually seen her in passing twice since she got back from wherever she disappeared to after they got pulled over back in June.

Eddie didn’t expect her to poke her head out of the back door of the Palace Arcade with a smile and a “hi, Eddie.”

“Moose, hey.” Eddie greeted, making eye contact with the girl as she came outside and holy shit— she looked good. Hot, even.

She was wearing a vibrant bikini top with the bottoms peeking out from under a pair of baggy jean shorts and her dark hair was put up haphazardly.

He tried to keep his eyes on her own as she sat down, but as her large, dark eyes met his, he had to look away. Unfortunately for him, the only other thing his stupid, stupid brain wanted to look at was her chest as she sat down opposite him.

She was speaking, but he wasn’t processing a single word until he finally looked back up at her face and then he heard her. “Eddie?”

He was embarrassed, trying to play it cool, “yeah.”

She laughed, shaking her head and taking a clip from the back of her head out of her long, dark hair, “how you been? Van alright?”

“It’s, yeah— I’ve been good. Van is awesome.” Eddie stated, focusing way too hard on his lunch box full of weed. He had to change the subject. “What’re you up to this evening?” 

Moose shrugged, pulling all of her hair onto one shoulder with a sigh, “I’m taking my sister and her friends for a little evening swim.”

“Need to show ‘em it’s not as fun as it sounds?” Eddie suggested with a laugh.

“Exactly.” She smiled at him. “They’re all starting high school next week so I need to do that before some fuckwit of an upperclassman tries to.”

“Speaking from experience?”

Nodding, she was kind of taken aback by the followup question, momentarily forgetting how curious Eddie Munson was, “my freshman year; first boyfriend.”

Eddie couldn’t help the words that spilled out next, “and how long did that last?”

“Wow,” she laughed, still playing with the ends of her hair, “two years too long. And yours?”

“My what?” Eddie questioned, his eyes starting to wander once again.

“Your last relationship.”

“Oh. It was a while ago, six, maybe seven months?”

Moose hummed, once again leaning against the old picnic table, “would I know her?”

“Don’t think so.” He shrugged, laughing it off. “Yours?”

“Oof.” Moose nodded, playing with her chipped nails, “I’m pretty sure you do.”

“Really?”

“Don’t think too hard about it,” she shrugged, “might hurt yourself.”

“Yes ma’am. What can I do for you today?”

Slapping a bill onto the table, she answered, “twenty bag.”

Eddie nodded, tearing his eyes away from the girl opposite him and sliding the twenty dollar bill under his black box before he began to rummage through it.

[deathsmallcaps]

Mirror Snow White for the WIP game, please!!

I’ve bolded the part you encouraged me to add onto! Thanks! :)

I met my true love while I was limping along an empty road cutting through the grey wintry plains of Sasriu. I had heard of a king with a mystery: the hand of one of his daughters and a title if solved, and three nights of hot meals, a warm bed and a quick death if not. Having no skills beyond war - for I had been sold quite young to become a soldier - and now possessing a pair of boots but only one leg, I despaired at the life I saw ahead of myself.

‘Retired’ soldiers rarely live long. It was the start of winter and already the nights dipped well below freezing. No forests stood for me to take shelter, and the little villages around I wouldn’t dare approach - this kingdom had been staunchly neutral in the nearby wars and many small towns chased out soldiers, for fear of involvement. There was no denying my past; I had been captured specifically because it would be difficult to confuse and lose me in the ranks of the local peoples, and the war raged still.

One kind, lonely farmhouse had offered me warm soup and a haystack to sleep in, but I saw the thin faces of each child and knew I couldn’t stay long. Thus, I headed for the city - I would hopefully find shelter and stability, and perhaps even an ambassador with knowledge of my homeland. And if my plans didn’t pan out, at least it would be a swift death - not ending up as a frozen stranger on the side of the muddy road or a penniless veteran on the cobbles of some dank alley.

So I hobbled toward the city. Being a plains kingdom, they didn’t build especially high buildings for fear of windstorms, but it stood out all the same against the flat earth surrounding it. Still, despite having such a clear goal, it seemingly didn’t get much closer, with night and what I hoped was merely a big cloud fast outrunning me. Knowing from my luck and the change in humidity, I knew it was rain. I tried moving faster, but the wraps around my crutch pads had worn away so it was even more painful than usual, so I soon had to return to my usual pace.

A small bump interrupted the tedium, coming from a side road I hadn’t noticed before. It moved slowly, but it was clear it was also heading towards the city, so with a slightly lighter heart I continued forward. A talking companion for the road would likely make the trip easier, and may even offer information on the king’s mystery. All I really knew at the time was that his daughters apparently had a problem with sneaking out at night.

Once I got close enough, it took me a moment to recall the local greeting, but then “All things must end!”

The shuffling figure, adorned in many ragged scarves, quickly flashed a look to me, too fast to make out any features. “But some begin now.” She replied in a raspy voice.

“What brings you to Wocosm this fine evening?” I inquired politely. I was desperate for conversation, but would drop it if she showed disinterest.

She laughed, a disused rattle that seemed to surprise her. She flashed her eyes at me once again. “You must be very hopeful indeed if you believe we will reach the gates before sundown. Still, it is no matter. I am looking for shards.”

“A shard? My good woman, I believe you are headed the wrong way! While I would not recommend any to enter a battlefield, there are broken bits abound back the way I came. I know my leader even pays people to go over the fields for arrows and other reusable things. As long as you do not have an apparatus that would impede your travel through the churned, bloody earth,” I gestured to my crutches for emphasis, “you could make a decent living doing as such.”

She shook her head. “I have seen that terrible place, and while it contains an evil most profound, it is human and mundane. The shard I seek is magical in origin, and to put it plainly, induces heinous thoughts and situations among even the most peaceable peoples.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that, but before a true response could form I saw a terrible sight. “Holy waters, you do not have shoes!”

“Hm? Oh, that.” She seemed unbothered, but I knew the importance of proper footwear.

Unable to think of a particularly witty rebuttal, I merely said, “But it’s cold!”

She stared at me blankly. Finally, I could see her eyes - black like mine, but shaped in an uncommonly beautiful fashion and ringed with near translucent blond lashes. Her face seemed much more youthful than her posture and manner seemed to suggest, yet her eyes held an age unknowable. The woman quickly hid her eyes again once she noticed my returned gaze.

Unable to do nothing, I carefully stopped and leaned one crutch against my body while I pulled my pack around. “Here. I have no use for it.” I handed her my extra boot, my other sock, and then the same crutch. “If we both are to make it to our destination, we need to avoid frostbite.” I had practiced walking with one crutch, and showed her how. “Pull your naked foot into your wraps, and use the crutch to move forward. It’s better than wearing off your soles before you find those wicked shards!”

Her mouth twisted, but she took my offerings all the same, and we walked on as the darkness overtook us both. I told her my name was Walt, short for Walter Johnschild, and she did not proffer hers, but instead told me things about the castle.

“Do you know much about the king’s mystery?” she asked. When I told her no, aside from the reward, she continued, “No matter. It is thus: The king of Susriu has twelve daughters, and every winter’s night for the last decade, their dancing shoes are dashed to pieces, despite never leaving their rooms and the guards stationed outside reportedly merely hearing the occasional snore. The princesses tell their father nothing, and he apparently needs to start marrying them off soon. However, if they are sneaking out, he cannot guarantee their virtue,” we both scoffed, “and has become desperate. So, he will reward any man who can solve this matter within the three nights he is allowed to stay in their rooms.”

“How can h-” I broke off when the city walls’ bells started tolling, signifying that the gates were about to close. Coincidentally, the sky broke open a quarter mile behind us.

The woman turned to me and placed the coldest kiss I’d ever felt aware upon my forehead. “Now go!” And she puffed up her cheeks, blew out, and a great wind, cold and sharp, carried me to the gates, billowing a cloak that had not been on my shoulders a moment before. The guards did not seem startled by my sudden arrival, and I swung quickly past the gates and into town.

The castle was on the other end of the city, which was unfortunate. I did my best to make my way over, but the cobblestones were not kind to me or my crutches. The rain caught up to me before I was even approved to go through the castle portcullis, and I nearly slipped. A young guard sniggered, but an older fellow smacked his helmet in irritation, causing it to spin and cover his face somewhat.

We nodded at each other. The elder seemed hale, but not all marks of war are visible to the naked eye. The youth, grumbling as he set his helmet right, was ordered to escort me to the dinner hall. He slouched and side-eyed the entire walk, and when he opened the door and announced me, he tapped the crutch closer to him with his foot. I stumbled into the surprised feasting hall.