#I was young (24) and foolish (working day jobs) but I had a point (the Dalish having no word for 'gay' and frowning on gay couples is wack) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years ago

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Side Effects- Complete

M/F Pairing: Y/N x Stray Kids (M/F Primary: Y/N x 3racha)

Warnings: Smut, Language, graphic depictions of violence, blood, gore, non-con elements

Genre: Yandere Stray Kids AU, Vampire AU, Fantasy AU

Word Count: 13K

Summary: Y/N just wanted a normal life, attending to her studies while earning the degree she’s always dreamed about. Unfortunately, her funds are running low and she’s increasingly desperate for money until she finds an advertisement online. Although she doesn’t know much about vampires, she decides to take a position as a blood donor to the mysterious Miroh Coven, unaware of the consequences of her fatal decision.

It had been almost six months since the incident. 24 weeks of paranoia, glancing over my shoulder in response to unexpected movements and sounds. 182 days of watching the bruises slowly fade from my skin, dark circles under my eyes gradually succumbing to the much-needed 8 hours of sleep I managed with the assistance of medication and my new roommate who always welcomed me in her bed when the nightmares progressed. Finally, it seemed like things were getting better with each passing day further and further away from the traumatic event that had changed my life forever.

I could now walk by myself at night without the risk of breaking down in the middle of the sidewalk. I could finally keep down the food my roommate prepared for me without the familiar feeling of nausea churning my stomach unpleasantly. I could finally find a job to support myself, working full-time as a Secretary at a company with full benefits and a reliable 401K.

They were gone from my life, taking the pain and suffering along with them. I was better now and I was determined to turn my life around because I was a strong and independent woman who should’ve known better. But I had been desperate back then, working through my college degree while my savings account was slowly drained. I wouldn’t be able to finance my Senior year and the idea of giving up on my education so close to the finish line had almost broken me in half.

That’s when I first saw the advertisement, promoted through Google’s convoluted Adword system. It was like an answer to my prayers, everything that I had been searching for wrapped up neatly with a handy URL link that took me straight to the source. I remember reading the advertisement with greedy eyes, unhesitating when I clicked on the “Apply Now” button:

ATTN:

Looking for a reliable blood donor for an estate of 8 young men belonging to the Miroh Coven. Preferably female with a blood type of O negative. Please send in an application ASAP.

Vampires weren’t uncommon in our society, though the government had heavily restricted their creation since a dramatic increase in population. Now, the government required notification if a Coven planned to initiate a new member. It was all a dramatic affair meant to prevent fledgling vampires who were more prone to violence and chaos. Of course, there was the occasional rogue who turned humans against their will simply because they couldn’t handle their blood-lust. However, more often than not, Coven leaders knew how to keep their members under control.

Blood donors were also not uncommon. Covens often hired several different donors to keep around when they required access to fresh blood. It was a practice that was initially met with hesitance from the greater public, but when Vampires proved they could handle themselves better around a reliable blood source, the government gradually acquiesced.

I had never given much thought to Vampires or Blood Donors until I saw the advertisement. More specifically, until I saw the amount of money this Coven, in particular, was willing to pay for their donor. It would be enough to pay my college tuition and keep money in my savings account to pay for rent and food. Since the new semester was rapidly approaching, I needed to pay for tuition immediately and provide a deposit for an on-campus apartment.

In hindsight, it was probably a foolish idea to jump headfirst into the application without doing proper research. Case in point, questioning just exactly why this obviously wealthy and established Clan needed a blood donor immediately. Under any other circumstances, I would’ve hesitated at the obvious sense of urgency behind the advertisement. I might have wondered what happened to the Clan’s previous Donor, but I was simply enraptured by the dollar signs and refused to consider that this could be a very bad decision.

It only took a few days before I received a notice on the application, requesting an interview at the Miroh Clan’s address. I remember feeling excited by the opportunity, dressing in my best slacks and blouse. I drove with barely constrained enthusiasm, singing along to the ridiculous pop song playing on the radio even though I really preferred classical music. But this was a special occasion and I was potentially meeting with someone who could change my life and allow me to finish the remainder of my education in luxury.

“Tuition is due this Friday,” I reminded myself, gaping at the giant Mansion gated in circumference by an ancient wrought-iron fence. “Remember to tell them you can start immediately, Y/N.”

I checked my make-up in the rear-view mirror before opening the door, heels clicking obnoxiously against the sidewalk. My first impression was rapidly becoming something like a passage from Bram Stoker’s Dracula as I ascended the steps to the front gate, smashing my finger against the button on the elaborate security system. The gate opened without warning and I jumped back in surprise, hand fanning against my chest as my heart nearly skipped a beat or two in my chest. “Relax, Y/N,” I said, smoothing down my slacks.

Despite it’s older appearance, it was obvious that the grounds of the Mansion were well-kept and I took note of the elaborate display of hydrangea’s lining the walkway to the front door. I presumed the Miroh Coven likely hired someone to do the work for them, especially since it was a known fact that Vampires generally disliked the sunlight as it bothered their enhanced senses. In any case, I was prepared to meet a bunch of older men who had perhaps lost their last client to old age or something. Instead, the man who opened the front door looked like he could attend the same University as me. Dressed impeccably in a dark mahogany suit, the man straightened his tie before offering me a relaxed smile. “Y/N?”

I nodded my head, trying not to react to the sight of his sharp incisors glinting menacingly in the light. “My name is Bang Chan,” he said, offering me an outstretched hand. “I’m the leader of the Miroh Coven.”

I shook his hand cautiously, aware of the strength in his arms highlighted by the bulging veins visible from the upturned aspect of his shirt sleeves. “Nice to meet you,” I said, recovering from the unexpected appearance of my potential benefactor. I had not anticipated meeting someone so obviously young.

“Come inside,” he said, opening the door further to welcome me into the shadowed hallways of the Miroh Mansion.

Present

“What else will you do?” my roommate asked with a pout.

I continued to read my book, far more concerned with the fate of my beloved heroine as opposed to my roommate’s desire to find free alcohol. “This,” I said, reclining further back against the comfortable stretch of pillows.

“Y/N,” my roommate chastised me softly. “I know why you don’t want to go and they’re just gonna win if you keep insisting.”

I tensed at her words, fingers mangling the corners of the pages. My roommate knew everything about my last situation because she was often the recipient of my screams when the familiar nightmares flooded my dreams. “They already won,” I grumbled. “I can’t even watch a vampire movie without losing my mind.”

“Are you afraid they’ll find you?” my roommate asked. “They’re thousands of miles away and you haven’t seen them for months.”

“Seven months,” I informed her curtly. “And I’d like to go for eight.”

“Y/N,” my roommate groaned. “You told me that you used to love parties.”

“I know,” I said. “Maybe someday I’ll go out with you, but for now this is the best way I can cope.”

My roommate nodded, messing with something in her bag before approaching me on high heels that were just bordering on too tall. “Here, I found this is the laundry room.”

I held out my hand absent-mindlessly, not really considering what she had given me until I pulled my attention away from the book. When I finally realized what it was, I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen followed by a wave of nausea that left me tossing my book to the side before bolting for the bathroom. “Y/N!” my roommate called my name, but I was already expelling the contents of my stomach, groaning from the sickness.

Because the item now discarded next to me was his necklace and I could have sworn I threw it out with their other gifts when I finally attained my freedom from their clutches…

I was completely spent, lungs still seeking additional oxygen and legs sore from where they were wrapped around his. Chan was always rough when he was feeling particularly possessive, hands determined to bruise every inch of my skin along with the deep marks from his fangs. He had taken a lot of blood and despite the offered chocolate now discarded on the side table, I was incredibly light-headed.

“Y/N,” Chan said, fingers tracing a rather nasty bite mark he had left on my shoulder. “Can you look at me, sweetheart?” It was difficult, but I managed to turn my head enough to meet his gaze, startled by how red his eyes glowed under the influence of fresh blood. Chan’s fingers traced along the edges of my lips, forcefully inserting themselves inside and I managed enough strength to lightly tongue my way across the tips. He shivered at that, removing his hand before reaching behind him for the gorgeous necklace I had noticed briefly on his nightstand before he had pushed my face into the mattress. “For you,” he said, helping me into a sitting position so that he could clasp the chain around my neck, golden pendant hanging heavy between the dips of my collarbones. “Perfect,” he soothed into my ear, growling around a husky “mine” before he was kissing a trail down the side of my arm.

Present

I woke up the next morning with a splitting headache that only responded to three painkillers washed down with a glass of cold water. It was a Saturday which meant I had the day off from work and I couldn’t be more grateful. After last night’s incident, I had finally managed to convince my roommate to go out and have fun while I dropped onto my bed with a heavy sigh. The only way I could calm myself down was by repeating assurances that I must have forgotten Chan’s necklace in the small bonfire I had made of the expensive things they had bought for me. It must have gotten stuck in the bottom of my pocket which explains its presence in the laundry room. There was simply no other explanation. But a shiver still ran its way down my spine when I recalled the way Chan had looked at me before I bolted out the front door. “I will always find you,” he had snarled the warning before I was lost into the unforgiving darkness of the night.

I ran home from the hospital, throwing my belongings into a suitcase before booking a one-way trip back home, far away from these horrible monsters who I had willingly entertained for the past year of my life. The only positive was the fact that I had graduated which meant I was in no way expected to stick around any longer. Instead, I uprooted up my life and moved back home where I felt safer, finding my current roommate who willingly offered me her unused second bedroom. I could’ve afforded to live alone, but there’s no way that I could manage a solitary arrangement without losing my mind. And I didn’t have my parents because I was far too prideful to crawl back to them considering the unfortunate way our last encounter had ended when my father told me that I could never amount to anything on my own.

They wanted me to attend a local community college before marrying the son of my dad’s business partner to demonstrate loyalty between the two brands. There was no way I would allow my parents to strip away something that belonged exclusively to me. My mother had ranted all night long when I missed my scheduled reservation, telling me that no boy would ever want me. I wish she had been right because I might have avoided the eight consecutive nightmares who entered my life one by one with every intent of bringing me down.

Regardless, I couldn’t change the past if I wanted to focus on the future, and I was doing well for myself these days without my parents or the Miroh Coven. I was assured that I could get through this unpleasant stage of my life because I had every intention of rising through the ranks. My dream was to open my own business one day and marry someone who could show me both love and respect. Because that was what was missing when I served the Miroh Coven. They might have insisted that they loved me, but they certainly held no respect for the woman they wanted to enslave, especially Jisung.

In fact, Han Jisung might have been the worst of the three brothers. You see, Chan’s claim as a leader only went as far as legalities required, having someone’s name down to attribute ownership. But Chan was just as much leader as Jisung and Changbin. The three brothers were thicker than thieves, having grown up together in a despicable orphanage when they were younger. They weren’t bound by blood, but by something much stronger. When they were turned by an older vampire who envisioned them as perfect little soldiers, they decided that they were owed something for all the years of torment they endured. They turned against their sire, freeing themselves from his control, before forming their own tight-knit clan to claim. Throughout the years, they lived in the Miroh Mansion while forming their very own elaborate enterprise and becoming very wealthy in the process. One of the very first things they did as CEOs was to tear down the orphanage they hated and replace it with one of their office buildings. Next, they tracked down everyone that had ever mistreated them, writing down the names in a disheveled notebook that I had discovered one night in Jisung’s nightstand. Some of the names had already been marked out, but there were still so many left, and I didn’t realize at the time what exactly I was holding in my hands until it was too late.

I shivered at the memory, trying to will it away, but it was already forcing itself to play out again in my mind with perfect clarity:

1 Year Ago

To save costs on ridiculous surcharges, and to make things easier for the coven, I had recently moved into the Miroh Mansion with my eight benefactors. They cleaned a room for me on the top floor where Chan, Changbin, and Jisung also lived in relative peace. The eight of them had been thrilled when I agreed to their proposal, talking nonstop about our new situation. Of course, I didn’t intend for it to hold any sort of permanence, but I didn’t dare speak out against Felix because the younger boy had a vicious temper and lashed out violently when things didn’t go his way.

Nevertheless, I quickly settled in with the others and their regular routine. I came to discover that Chan, Changbin, and Jisung were often missing throughout the day, but I figured it had something to do with their business. As for the others, Hyunjin spent a lot of time in the attic where he had attempted to recreate a dance studio, often requesting that I sit and watch him as he moved to the gentle music playing from an older record player. Sometimes, Felix joined him too, but for the most part, Felix liked to play with the younger boys, Seungmin and Jeongin, in their rooms or in mine. They loved video games and I remember countless hours spent playing with the three of them as they giggled and laughed like the harmless school boys I once believed them to be. Occasionally, Minho liked to poke his head in when we were being too loud, scolding us because he was concentrating on his newest art project.

But the mood shifted considerably once Chan, Changbin, and Jisung came home. Immediately, the other vampires would rush downstairs to greet the brothers. It was the same occurrence every night and I was ignorant at first until I finally mustered the courage to ask Chan why they were so eager to see them. The older man had chuckled at me. “We’re their sires, Y/N. They experience a lot of discomfort without us around.”

“Sires?”

Chan explained the concept to me patiently. “Seungmin and Jeongin are sired to me and Hyunjin and Felix are sired to Changbin.”

“And Minho is sired to Jisung,” I said and Chan had smiled at me proudly like I had just discovered something profound.

“When we come home, it’s important that we reinforce our bond. Otherwise, some very bad things might happen.”

I had nodded like that made perfect sense to me. I was really tired and wanted to simply crawl into Chan’s arms and fall asleep. Chan had realized my intentions, holding me close while running his fingers through the messy strands of my air.

The next evening, Jisung summoned me into his bedroom. “I’m hungry, little one,” he said, drawing me onto the bed to slowly strip me out of my clothes. The very first-time Jisung had attempted to remove my shirt, I freaked out and demanded to know why it was necessary. Jisung had smiled, a cunning manipulative behavior that I hadn’t fully realized at the time. “I don’t want to ruin your clothes.”

Of course, his intentions became evident as our sessions increased and I finally gave in and let Jisung fuck me because it did feel really good when he was inside while drawing far too much blood from my carotid artery. It became just another part of our routine, Jisung drawing me into his bed before sliding his cock inside before biting viciously on the side of my neck. I moaned from under him, focusing on the way his cock slid in and out as opposed to the dizziness I was experiencing from losing too much blood at once. Jisung only stopped when I orgasmed, tightening around his cock before he emptied himself between my legs, pressing sweet kisses to my chest before pulling his flaccid length out of my sensitive opening.

“Sleep,” he whispered close to my ear. I whined because I hated it when he left me alone after sex.

“Sungie,” I said, trying to get his attention. I was incredibly drowsy, fighting against every desire to close my eyes.

Jisung chuckled, entertaining my wandering hands. “I have business that requires my attention and you need to rest for me.”

I watched through lidded eyes as Jisung opened his nightstand, drawing out an unfamiliar notebook. He grabbed a loose pen from the organizer on his desk before scratching something out against the paper. Afterward, the notebook was returned to its previous location before Jisung was silently escaping the bedroom. I groaned loudly at the soreness in my neck, massaging the tender skin before allowing myself the sleep I deserved.

It felt like minutes before an unexpected scream pierced through the walls, startling me into consciousness. I jolted up in my bed, far too quickly for my poor body which was still recovering from Jisung’s feeding. I shook my head to clear the black spots, opening them again only for my eyes to latch onto Jisung’s nightstand. I swallowed hard, curiosity getting the better of me as I slowly pulled on the drawer’s handle.

The notebook wasn’t very large but I could tell it was old and well-used. I slowly opened the first page, frowning as I read the unfamiliar names listed in random order. A few of them had been carefully blacked out, indecipherable now that they had been clearly forgotten. I was growing distracted by the names, trying to piece together the mysterious puzzle, when another noisy scream reminded me why I had been so suddenly disturbed. Carefully, I returned the notebook to its home, slipping on a pair of slippers before leaving Jisung’s bedroom.

The hallways were dark and empty with no other sounds alerting me to the unexpected scream that had previously penetrated my drowsiness. I started down the familiar purple carpets, holding tightly to the railing as I descended the grand staircase. It was then that I noticed light spilling from a crack in the door leading to the basement. I had never been down there before, warned explicitly by Chan to never enter that room. But his warning did nothing to assuage my curiosity, so I ignored the alarms going off in the back of my head before reaching out for the door.

There were several voices now, clearly audible, attempting to speak over one another. It sounded like an argument as I started down the stairs, frowning when I smelled something that reminded me distinctly of a sharp metallic odor. “It’s fine,” I heard Jisung’s voice growl and I paused in my steps, wondering if I would get in trouble for interrupting.

“So messy,” Chan spoke now, clearly irritated. “I thought you planned better than this.”

“I did,” Jisung said. “Consider the girl an added bonus.”

I didn’t like the way they were talking, continuing my trek into the basement until I could finally see the three brothers standing together. But I immediately regretted my decision, covering the scream threatening to rip itself free from my chest as I discovered the corpses hanging from the ceiling. It was a disgusting sight, limbs dismembered and lying out across the floor. There was blood everywhere, covering Chan, Changbin, and Jisung, thick and revolting in the way it stained the concrete floors. I instinctively took a step back, wincing when the stair creaked under my weight. Almost immediately, three pairs of eyes turned in my direction and I fell backward in my haste to retreat.

Chan was on me in an instant, cursing when his touch forced a loud scream to pierce the silence of the room. “Relax, sweetheart,” he said, grabbing my shoulders despite my thrashing. He forced me to meet his eyes and the influence of his power was enough to render me unconscious once again.

Present

“You look beautiful today, Y/N.”

I blushed, of course, from Mark’s tender compliment. “Thank you,” I managed sheepishly, watching as my boss offered me a cheeky smile before entering his office.

Ever since I left the Miroh Coven, I had been working a part-time position as the Secretary to a wealthy CEO. I didn’t mind my job, enjoying the menial tasks I was usually instructed to obey. It was quite mind-numbing, a worthy distraction when I first started working here hollowing the horrors I had endured from the Miroh Coven. The pay was excellent and I was able to help my roommate afford rent while reliably buying myself luxuries like a new mattress or a fresh wardrobe since my old clothes reminded me too much of the past.

The hours were also minimal, and I often found myself sitting down at my desk only to look up at the clock and realize my day had already concluded. Subsequently, I was able to leave the office on time every day to join the steady stream of afternoon traffic. Afterward, I might stop by a restaurant to pick up something for dinner, or occasionally drive through the downtown marketplace because I enjoyed shopping for fresh produce. It was all quite nice and I enjoyed settling into my new life with a deep sigh of relief.

It had almost been nine months since I last saw any of the boys and other than the unfortunate encounter with Chan’s necklace, I was sure that I would never have to experience anything so unattractive ever again. I was slowly regaining my confidence, joining my roommate several times when she wanted to see a movie or shop at one of the outdoor malls. Everything was starting to work out for me, which meant that I was also starting to comfortably take more risks.

“Please have fun tonight,” my roommate said, practically dragging me along with her as we entered one of her favorite clubs. After much convincing, I had finally given in and allowed my roommate to take me out late at night for drinks and dancing. “This is a nice place,” she said, leading me to the bar. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

I nodded my head, looking around the relaxed atmosphere. It was certainly a much tamer club than what I was used to visiting, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Of course, the influence of alcohol had a way of making a person far more willing to lower their defenses. “One glass,” I said, accepting the fruity beverage from the bartender before my roommate and I found a table near the edge of the dance-floor.

“So many handsome faces,” my roommate remarked. “Interested in anyone?”

I scoffed at her question because I seriously doubted that I would willingly jump into a new relationship anytime soon. “Really?”

“Just wondering,” my roommate shrugged, drinking down the remainder of her scotch. “Wanna dance?”

I waved her off, deciding that I was okay with enjoying my drink at our table. My roommate let out a giggle, locking eyes with a suave businessman who looked ready to devour her whole. “I’ll check on you soon,” she promised and I quickly lost her in the mass of bodies occupying the dance floor.

I rolled my eyes because I knew better than to expect my roommate’s return. Instead, I sipped at my drink while admiring the friendly atmosphere of the bar, neon colors dazzling in my peripheral vision. It reminded me of my younger college days when I was swept away by the illusion of freedom which independent adulthood offered, attending every frat party I could find.

I grinned at the memories, feeling way too old to try anything like that ever again. It was fun once, being so irresponsible, but now it was time to start paying bills and scratch my head when I attempted to do my taxes. Freedom was addicting, and I could see why so many younger people were enamored with the idea of moving away from home and conquering the world.

Wistfully, I must digress because I often lose myself in my thoughts, and I can’t afford a break in concentration. Instead, I sipped tentatively at my drink, watching the moving sea of bodies. I was entirely focused, which allowed me to raise my guard at the approach of an unfamiliar figure.

“Excuse me? Do you have the time?”

I shrugged loosely because it was an innocent request from someone who clearly wasn’t looking for anything ill-intended. On instinct, I reached into my bag to grab my phone. “It’s almost midnight,” I said, thinking that our interaction would be short-lived.

Instead, the man was insistent, a cold hand digging harshly against my shoulder. “Don’t you know that it’s dangerous to stay up so late, sweetheart?”

The accent had been disguised, but now I recognized it thick and heavy in my ear. I couldn’t even remember to scream before his hand was enclosed over my mouth, teeth nipping at my jaw. Another body slipped into my roommate’s chair, brows raised as he reached for her discarded glass. “Is there room for some company, Y/N?” Jisung asked, blonde hair hanging low in his eyes.

I shook my head desperately, fresh tears clouding my vision. “Where are your manners, sweetheart?” Chan asked with a harsh tone and I was suddenly jerked to the side, a strong hand holding my chin into place.

“What a coincidence, Y/N,” Changbin growled. “We have unfinished business in this little town of yours.”

“You’re coming with us,” Chan said, ignoring the way I fought against him as he practically forced me out of my chair. “Look at me,” he snarled, eyes trained on mine as I started to drift out of consciousness.

I was slowly starting to realize that the implications of being a sire went far beyond just simply turning someone immortal. For example, I knew how cruel Changbin could be, turning violent on a whim, especially if you disobeyed him. He was the one who liked to punish me when he thought I was being bad, dragging out all sorts of special toys to use against my body. Paddles and lashes, whips and spikes, everything Changbin needed was lined perfectly along the walls of the special room he had decorated for himself whenever he wanted to play with someone. He was a sadist in every sense of the word, enjoying the sensation of watching someone suffer for his own pleasure. When he had first brought me into the room, I had immediately protested, close to tears when Changbin had cooed at me and insisted that I would never be forced to do anything outside of my comfort zone. He spoke with a wicked tongue, dark eyes revealing the truth if I had been so willing to look for it, but I eventually allowed him to have his way with me. Tears streaming freely down the side of my face while Changbin’s tongue traced the salty rivulets with a groan.

But Changbin wasn’t the only one with a fiery temper and desire for pain and suffering. His fledgling vampires, Felix and Hyunjin, had decisively taken on his more brutal aspects. Felix lost control whenever I said something to offend him, growling out insults while I tried to avoid his hands. Hyunjin had special permission to use Changbin’s secret room to explore his own masochism, and I had accidentally wandered into one of his sessions at the beginning of our arrangement before things had turned sexual between us. I remember the look of existential terror on the girl’s face that I had foolishly misplaced as pleasure, crying out not in ecstasy but in pain.

On the other hand, Jisung was the manipulative and cunning brother who thought out everything instead of living on a whim according to his pleasures. It was this same trait that I discovered in Minho who also shared Jisung’s tendency to plan out his movements. The only difference between them was that Minho was silent in his execution while Jisung was loud in letting everyone know that he had gotten his way.

Finally, there was Bang Chan, the legal leader of the Miroh Coven. Chan was the last of the brothers to attempt a siring bond because he had never found the right person. I would never know for sure why Seungmin and Jeongin were “the right people,” but Chan doted on them in every sense of the word. He treasured them like they were his possessions, buying them expensive clothes and allowing them leeway when their bloodlust tended to get the best of them. It was up to the sire to teach their fledglings how to properly drink blood from a source, but Chan had decided not to blink an eye when Seungmin or Jeongin accidentally took things a step too far.

Just like Chan, Seungmin and Jeongin were also extremely possessive, especially when they considered something to belong exclusively to them. I can only wish that I had noticed sooner, the way the three of them liked to leave their marks on me in various ways, whether it be through a harsh bite or buying me something nice and insisting that I wear it at all times. Seungmin and Jeongin were also dangerous because there had been times when I felt like I was on death’s door, feeling them drink my blood like they would never stop.

Sadly, I thought I had escaped all of that, so imagine the utter sense of dread crippling my entire body when I woke up to see Chan, Changbin, and Jisung standing over me as they watched me slowly awaken. Chan was the first to react, sitting down on the edge of the bed as he appraised me. “Sweetheart,” he said and a shiver ran down my spine. “Don’t you know how worried we were when you ran away from us like that?”

My lower lip trembled and I bit down on it hard. “I couldn’t stay.”

“Why not?” Chan asked, looking every bit as patient as I remembered.

“You hurt people,” I whispered. “And you hurt me too.”

“Hurt you?” Chan huffed, a look of annoyance masking his features. “We protected you and cared for you, sweetheart.”

“You belong to us,” Jisung said, gaze cold as he watched me from afar.

I sniffled, slowly losing my last shred of pride as I tried not to cry in front of these horrible vampires. His words reminded me of the night I left, rushing out into the streets with blood covering my body. “I don’t have to work for you anymore,” I said.

Changbin growled. “The arrangement meant more than that, Y/N.”

“We love you,” Chan said, reaching for my hands and I didn’t have the strength to fight him. “Remember? We can be together forever.”

I was crying now, triggered by the all-too-familiar words spoken 9 months ago when I entered the Miroh Mansion for the final time.

Eight Months Ago

Jeongin was still young enough to celebrate his birthday, and the rest of the Clan had decided that nothing was too good for their precious youngest member. I remember going shopping with Chan, buying party decorations without any consideration for how much it would cost them. Earlier that week, Jisung and I had visited the bakery to order Jeongin a custom-made birthday cake, including a cheesy message at the bottom to commemorate the occasion. Everyone was in good spirits and I had finally stopped thinking about the bodies in their basement, believing Jisung when he told me that they had been donated to the Miroh Clan to use as a source of fresh blood. “It sometimes happens,” Jisung said. “Whenever there’s an accident and nobody claims the bodies, they send them here for us to use.”

It was an extremely unreasonable explanation but I refused to believe anything else in an attempt to protect myself from the truth. I was determined to move past it, forcing myself to smile at Jisung’s cheesy jokes or Chan’s attempts to make me laugh. I must have been a good actor because they stopped hovering around me at every possible opportunity, watching me like they were waiting for me to bolt out the door and never return.

“Y/N!” Jeongin had said, jumping into my bed to wake me up that morning. “Guess what?” he giggled, adorable face mere inches from my own.

“Hmmm?” I wondered, smirking as he practically beamed with excitement.

“It’s my birthday,” Jeongin said. “I’m supposed to be 40-years-old today!”

“Congratulations,” I snickered, deciding that it wasn’t the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard.

“Will you come play with me and Felix?” Jeongin asked. “We can do whatever we want until Chan gets home.”

That’s another thing I had noticed about the fledglings. They never really liked to talk about anyone except for their sired master. In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I would think that Jeongin had no idea that Jisung and Changbin even existed. “Okay,” I said. “Let me take a shower first.”

Jeongin allowed me to get ready in peace and quiet, and I enjoyed the feeling of the water scalding my skin as I stood under the faucet for far longer than normal. Afterward, I pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, finding Felix, Jeongin, and Seungmin in Minho’s room, arguing over who would join teams. I yawned when I entered, wary of the way Minho was watching me from his bed, legs stretched out in front of him as his eyes followed me all the way to where Felix was holding out my controller.

I spent the remainder of the afternoon with the younger boys, ignoring Minho completely as I let Jeongin win several times even though I was much better at Street Fighter. “Finally,” Jeongin exclaimed, racing for the door before I could question him.

“Chan’s home,” Minho informed me, holding out a hand which I reluctantly accepted, trying not to react when Minho leaned in to press his lips against my delicate pulse point.

Downstairs, all of the vampires were busy setting up Jeongin’s party. Streamers hung from the overhead banisters and balloons floated mindlessly through the room as Chan hugged Jeongin tightly against his chest. “Were you a good boy today?” he asked the youngest who nodded enthusiastically in response.

“Y/N,” Jisung called my name. “Help me in the kitchen.”

I obeyed immediately, finding Jisung situating candles on top of the cake we had purchased earlier that week. I was struck by the normalcy of the situation, standing next to Jisung as he instructed me to start boiling a pot of water. Apparently, despite their delicate diets, on special occasions, the Vampires could enjoy human food and Jeongin’s favorite was being prepared for him.

It was chaotic in the Mansion as everyone attended to their various responsibilities, amusing little Jeongin who flitted from person to person. Although, more often than not, Jeongin stuck close to Chan’s side, talking to his sire about all the nuances of his day. Chan listened patiently, nodding along as he finished the elaborate ribbon around one of Jeongin’s birthday presents. “Is everyone ready?”

We all stood together in the kitchen, singing for Jeongin who was vibrating from head to toe. He blew out the candles and beamed at the accompanying applause. “Happy birthday, Jeongin,” I said, allowing him to pull me into an impossibly strong grip.

Meanwhile, the other vampires slowly congregated into the living room where Jeongin’s presents were waiting for him. “Y/N,” Chan said, holding me back as Jeongin raced out of the kitchen. “Help me carry these drinks.”

I wrinkled my nose because they were obviously filled with blood. Nonetheless, I obeyed diligently, accepting one of the trays before following Chan into the crowded foyer. “Channie!” Jeongin said, holding up a delicate pocket watch. “It’s so nice!”

Chan smiled warmly at Jeongin, ruffling his hair playfully as he started handing out the glasses. Changbin grabbed me by the hips as I passed in front of him, pulling me into his lap as he took a sip from his glass. “It’s not as good as yours,” he teased, lips scarlet from the liquid.

I chose not to respond to his comment, trying to relax against his body. “Y/N,” Chan said before handing me a glass. I studied it cautiously while I gingerly took the glass from him.

“What is it?”

“Just some wine,” Chan shrugged indifferently and I nodded before trying a sip of the beverage. Almost immediately, I winced at the taste and Changbin chuckled at my obvious aversion.

“It was very expensive,” he lightly chastised me and I tried not to notice the smell as I forced more of the wine down my throat.

Meanwhile, Jeongin continued to open more of his gifts, expressing his gratitude towards each of his older members as he tried on various pieces of clothing and jewelry. When he finally got to my present, he shot me a mischievous smirk. “Y/N…”

“Open it,” I encouraged him.

Jeongin needed no further encouragement, ripping through the wrapping paper before discovering the portable gaming system tucked neatly in the box it once came in. “For you to practice,” I said, pleased at his grateful expression. It was an older system that once belonged to my brother, but I didn’t have a need for it, and Jeongin talked relentlessly about how cool it would be to play the older versions of the games he loved.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely.

I was warmed by his genuine reaction, feeling nothing but affection for the boy. “You’re welcome.”

“What a good girl,” Changbin said, tipping my glass back against my lips. “You shouldn’t waste it.”

I narrowed my eyes, wondering why he really cared about how expensive the wine cost. After all, these were the same men who brought new things into the house every day after flashing their shiny credit cards at whichever cashier had the privilege of accommodating their requests. Still, I knew better than to upset Changbin, especially on poor Jeongin’s birthday, so I downed the rest of the nasty drink before placing the glass down on the side table. “Shall we watch a movie?” Jisung asked, eyes glinting rather maniacally as he studied my discarded drink.

“Please!” Jeongin chirped. “Something scary.”

I hated the idea of watching a horror movie, but I couldn’t protest when everyone else was in total agreement for once. Instead, I followed the rest of the boys into the main living room, resisting a sigh when Chan drug me down next to him on the sectional. “Whatever you want, Jeongin,” Jisung said, tossing the younger the remote control.

“Dracula!” Jeongin declared, an amusing pick perhaps if these Vampires were less violent.

But my opinion held no weight and the film began while Felix turned off the lights. Bathed in darkness, I resisted the urge to curl in tighter against Chan as I tried not to think about the film playing on-screen. Everyone else was comfortable, settled in their usual pairs which meant Minho was sitting between Jisung’s legs while Felix and Hyunjin flanked Changbin on either side. Seungmin and Jeongin sat close to me and Chan as they watched the television with wide, eager eyes.

I tried to turn off my mind, focusing on a distant spot beyond the edge of the screen. It worked for a while, keeping my mind occupied away from the movie playing in the background. In fact, I might have managed to survive the rest of the evening had it not been for Chan whose lips were suddenly brushing along the length of my neck.

I immediately flinched away. “What are you doing?” I whispered, unrelenting when his hand wrapped around the back of my head to force me into place.

“I’m hungry,” he smirked against my exposed skin, teeth sharp against my delicate flesh.

“Why now?” I said, looking over at the others because there was no way they couldn’t hear the two of us.

“Just one bite,” Chan said and I rolled my eyes but bared my neck for him, hoping he would be fast about the unexpected ordeal. He was quick to adjust me on his lap, fixing our positions to his liking. Chan’s teeth penetrated my skin gently and I could feel his mouth latch on tightly as he started to drink from me. I tried not to react, glancing away at the other members who were still watching the movie. With the exception of Changbin, who was looking at me with a dangerous smirk that immediately alerted me to the fact that something was terribly wrong.

As the seconds ticked away, I realized that Chan had no intention of stopping and my instincts kicked in as the storm of anxiety registered throughout my slowly weakening body. I jerked away from Chan who must have been caught off-guard, blood spraying into the air around us as the wound had not been properly closed. But my decision proved to be a necessary distraction because Jeongin and Seungmin both immediately reacted to the intense smell, teeth bared as they sought the source of the blood coating the furniture and my clothes. I managed to dodge Jeongin as he jumped at me first, colliding into Chan to send them both falling back into the floor.

With my hand pressed against my neck, I started for the front door, aware of Changbin closing in behind me. But the older boy was unprepared for Seungmin’s attack whose instincts probably insisted that someone was trying to steal his fresh supply of blood. Changbin let out a grunt as he wrestled with a feral Seungmin, receiving help from Felix and Hyunjin who were trying to protect their sire. Through the haze clouding my eyes, I could see Jisung holding back Minho whose sharpened incisors were cutting deeply into the thin skin of his lips. “You belong to us!” Jisung snarled.

“We can be together forever,” Chan said, still distracted by a wild Jeongin whose dark eyes were starting to look very unfamiliar. It was only then that I realized I had been tricked. They had been trying to turn me without my permission. The expensive wine Changbin insisted I drink must have been someone’s blood because when a human died with vampire blood in their system…

I forced those thoughts away, deciding it was far more important to focus on escaping, and the feral vampires provided the perfect distraction. I managed to make it out onto the street, finding my car parked at the sidewalk. I started the ignition, blasting cold air through the vents to keep me conscious as I pulled out onto the main road. Blood was still pouring steadily from my wound when I stopped next to the Emergency room entrance, ignoring a nearby policeman who was clearly displeased that I was blocking the road before I finally succumbed to the darkness with a grateful sigh.

Present

What have they done? I questioned immediately when I realized that I was back in my regular bedroom the following morning. The normality of the situation should’ve been impossible because I was certain that Chan, Jisung, and Changbin had inexplicably decided to hold me hostage after finding me at that stupid club. “Remember? We can be together forever.”

However, no matter how much I tried to make sense of the preceding night’s events, I couldn’t understand why they would allow me to leave after making such promises to turn me. I don’t recall escaping, especially considering my weakened condition, which meant that the three men had brought me back to my apartment on their own accord. I mean, was this just another attempt to mess with me?

I glanced over at my nightstand, discovering a faded envelope sitting on top of my cell phone. I decided to check my messages first, relieved when I saw my roommate’s contact name. She had apparently spent the night with someone she met at the bar, but she assured me that she was safe and would be home later after work. I was glad that she was fairing better than her roommate, and I turned my attention to the envelope. The handwriting on the front was familiar, and I gently tore through the sealed contents. Inside was a folded letter, and my hands were shaking when I smoothed out the paper to comprehend the brief message written in perfect cursive:

Y/N,

Although our reunion was postponed, please accept this invitation on behalf of the Miroh Coven for your company tonight at 8:00 pm sharp.

Sincerely,

Bang Chan

What did he mean by postponing our reunion?

Unfortunately, I had no time to try and figure it out because the buzzing sound of our doorbell abruptly pulled me out of bed, and I wordlessly tucked the envelope inside my pocket. My roommate and I never received visitors, and there was a small part of me that feared for the possibility that one of the Miroh Coven members was waiting outside in the hallway. Yet, when I searched through the door viewer, I realized that a uniformed police officer was carefully sorting through a file of paperwork in her hands.

“Hello?” I asked cautiously, opening the door just enough to acknowledge the unfamiliar woman.

“Y/N?” the officer questioned.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“My name is Officer Smith. I have a few questions for you concerning your previous employer,” the officer said and I was left shaking from head to toe as I allowed her to come inside.

“Do you have somewhere we could sit down?” she asked, and I nodded curtly before leading us both in the kitchen.

“Coffee?” I asked, crowding around the machine in the kitchen.

“That would be nice.”

We were both silent while I served the warm beverage, holding my mug tightly between my hands. “Do you want any creamer?”

“I’m fine,” the officer said. “I just want you to be comfortable. There’s some very troubling things I want to talk to you about.”

“I see,” I nodded, looking intently at the file she had brought with her.

“We’re in the middle of an investigation,” she continued. “It concerns the Miroh Coven. According to our records, you were previously employed with them as a blood donor.”

“Yes, but I was forced to leave.”

“Oh?”

“We had a disagreement.”

“Well, I want you to know that they’re in a lot of trouble,” the officer explained. “We found the body of a young woman on the side of the highway completely drained of blood. When we ran her license, we discovered that she had been employed by the Miroh Coven as a blood donor during the past few months. However, when we asked the Coven about her employment, they told us a very similar story about...a disagreement.”

I shivered despite the heat from the liquid trailing down my throat. “I just...I had a lot of trouble with balancing my college lectures with their schedule. It was very demanding.”

“Of course,” the officer said, but she still wore a look of suspicion. “Normally, we might be inclined to attribute these kinds of things to a rogue attack, but there’s just too many factors that coincide with this case.”

“Like what?”

“For starters, we’ve been unable to contact their previous employees, with the exception of yourself,” the officer explained. “It seems like the Miroh Coven has a history of making their employees disappear without a trace, and I find it very problematic that the young lady we found yesterday had clearly suffered at the hands of a vampire.”

“How many other employees have they had?”

“Quite a few,” the officer said. “I think there’s something bigger going on, and I really need for you to be honest with me, Y/N, because you might be able to help us stop them.”

I swallowed hard. “You think they killed those other donors.”

“It’s very likely,” she said. “Can you tell me anything else about your resignation?”

I found it impossible to make eye contact with the officer, especially when I could still remember everything that had happened the night I left the Miroh Coven. My intention had always been to forget about those terrible circumstances because I was determined to move forward with my life, but all those other ill-fated donors suddenly made it very difficult to remain silent. “They were always nice to me,” I said. “We had a reasonable arrangement because they paid for my schooling and even let me live with them to assuage the cost of on-campus housing. It helped me finish school, but it was always meant to be a temporary arrangement.”

“I understand,” she nodded. “Did they know you were planning to leave?”

“No, but they were keeping secrets from me too,” I said. “A lot of strange things happened when I was living at the mansion.”

“Like?”

“One night, I found a pair of bodies in the basement, but Jisung told me that they were donated...” I trailed off with a choked whimper. “They were also planning to turn me into one of them.”

“Did they tell you this?”

“I guess I didn’t have the right to know,” I said. “I escaped that night and drove myself to the hospital. After that, I moved back here and tried to forget about everything that happened.”

“I understand that it was traumatic for you,” the officer said. “I’m sorry you had to bring it up again.”

I shook my head. “If they’re hurting other people, then I don’t mind the pain.”

The officer sighed, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “Have they tried to contact you since then?”

“Yeah,” I sniffled, reaching into my pocket to retrieve the folded letter. “They actually found me at a bar the other night, but they let me go for some reason. I found this letter on my nightstand.”

The officer read over the simple message and frowned. “Were you planning on meeting them tonight?”

“I don’t want to see them ever again.”

“Interesting,” the officer said. “It seems like they really like you.”

“They always told me that,” I said, remembering their whispered words of affection while sharp teeth penetrated my skin.

“I’m going to be completely transparent with you, Y/N,” the officer said. “My station is leading an investigation into the Miroh Coven, but we still need a lot of evidence to bring a case to the court of law.”

“You can have the letter,” I suggested, but she shook her head.

“It needs to be more concrete,” she said. “I need something that condemns them for the previous disappearances of those other blood donors.”

“Maybe a record or something?”

“I wish we had one,” the officer sighed. “We know those donors were employed by the Coven, but there’s no evidence of what happened to them or why they were dismissed.”

“Chan, Jisung, and Changbin own their own company,” I said. “There might be something in one of those buildings?”

“I doubt they’d be careless,” the officer said. “Actually, I’d imagine that the three of them would keep those things close, and there’s probably very few people who they trust inside the mansion.”

I could feel my entire body trembling at her knowing look. “Actually, Y/N, it seems like they trust you.”

“You want me to go to that dinner tonight with them,” I whispered, completely missing her next words because my heart was beating too loudly, drowning out the other noises around the apartment. It felt like I was falling back into a dark place, and I was desperate to find the light again.

Officer Smith suddenly reached out, fingers cold against my arm, and she effectively pulled me back into the conversation. “I know it’s a lot to ask from you, Y/N, but the answers are inside that house! Whatever you might find could bring justice to the people they’ve taken advantage of over the years.”

It was easy for her to tell me to return to the Coven when she desperately needed my help, but why did it have to be my responsibility to return to a place where I had once escaped tragedy? Nevertheless, I could feel the weight of her gaze, imploring me to undertake such a terrifying mission, and I wondered whether or not I could still protect myself when so many other people were depending on me? “Okay,” I finally said. “I’ll do it.”

The Miroh Mansion was still dark and foreboding, reminding me of the very first time I walked through the front door for my interview with Chan. It was a pivotal moment in my life, but one whose consequences I never understood until I drove to a hospital with blood pouring from a wound meant to serve as the last reminder of my mortality. I had nightmares about the Coven kidnapping me and forcing me to return, but I could’ve never imagined that I would come back here of my own decision.

I slowly knocked on the front door, swallowing down my fear because I couldn’t afford for the Coven to think anything was wrong. “Act as if we had never gotten involved,” the police had instructed me.

“I’ll try,” I had promised, and I intended to do whatever was possible to help the innocent. However, I wouldn’t go as far as risking my life to expose these horrible vampires, even if dozens of missing donors were counting on me for justice.

“Y/N,” Chan greeted smoothly when he met me outside on the porch, dark eyes swallowing me into their endless depths. “I’m glad you saw things our way.”

He invited me inside, and I anxiously made my way across the familiar carpeted hallway leading into the living room. I wasn’t surprised to see the other Coven members waiting, but it still didn’t stop my heart from leaping into my throat when I realized that I could very well die tonight if I wasn’t careful. “My dearest Y/N kindly accepted our invitation,” Jisung remarked, gliding across the floor with an impossible speed. I could smell blood on his lips as he wrapped an arm around my waist, escorting me to the lovely sectional where Minho was watching me through lidded eyes.

“You look beautiful,” Changbin contributed, holding a glass of red liquid daintily between his fingers. Felix and Hyunjin sat next to him, looking at me with barely constrained hunger. “You’re just in time for drinks.”

I stiffened instinctively under Jisung’s hold because I remembered the last time I had been offered to drink with them. “It’s just wine,” Minho smirked, holding out a glass for me to take.

I accepted it cautiously, tasting at the rim only to discover a grape-flavored taste that certainly didn’t remind me of blood. Still, I declined to drink further, holding my glass while Chan started a conversation about their business, eliminating the initial silence that had occupied the room upon my arrival. Seungmin and Jeongin happily listened, focused on their sire with an attentiveness that reminded me of my previous stay with the Miroh Coven when I had once been ignorant of their bond. “Dinner should be ready soon,” Chan reassured me and I could only nod in response.

“Do you mind if I use the restroom?” I asked, and Jisung reluctantly let me go while eight pairs of eyes watched me all the way up the staircase.

I took a deep breath, waiting until Chan started talking again before disappearing around the corner into the room I knew he maintained as an office. I immediately started for his desk, pulling out well-organized files and the notebooks full of his writings. Every so often, I glanced up at the clock hanging above the doorway because I knew that I could probably only manage twenty minutes unsupervised before someone came looking for me.

“Please,” I sighed, reading over a promising file tentatively titled extraneous paperwork. “Holy shit!”

Pictures.

Dozens of them.

They were incriminating, various bodies splayed at unattractive angles. Close-up shots of mangled corpses drenched in blood with empty eyes staring straight at the camera. I flipped them over and gasped, reading the names that sounded way too familiar to merely be a coincidence. “This is it,” I said, almost giddy with excitement despite the uncomfortable nausea twisting my stomach at the sight of these poor donors who had managed to fall victim to the merciless Coven.

I shuffled them together, restoring Chan’s office to its previous organization, before tucking the pictures inside the pocket of my jacket. I was more than ready to return downstairs, when I suddenly remembered a faint recollection of the little notebook I had once discovered in Jisung’s bedroom. It wasn’t that much further down the hallway, and I quickly jerked open the drawer of his nightstand, shoulders deflating in relief when I saw the tiny book waiting on top of his other belongings.

I gripped it tightly when I eventually retreated, resting my head against the door to his bedroom quietly because this was causing me more stress than I could handle. “Y/N?”

I immediately turned around, eyes widening in shock when I realized that Chan was waiting for me. I swallowed hard as I held my ground, keeping the journal behind me. “Did you need something, Chan?”

He didn’t respond right away, and I could feel myself growing smaller and smaller with every long second passing between us. Finally, Chan took a step in my direction. “You’ve been gone a while.”

I shifted anxiously. “I- I just remembered something in Jisung’s room. We used to look at it together when I lived here.”

Chan nodded, and I was relieved that he accepted my explanation. “We all missed you.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I missed you too.”

He closed his eyes, cherishing the lie that somehow sounded much more believable than it did inside my head. “Can you show me?”

“What?”

“In Jisung’s room,” Chan said. “What did he show you?”

I trembled as I leaned against the door. “I’m not sure if it was something he wanted to share.”

“I see,” Chan murmured. “It’s interesting because there’s something that I want to show you too.”

Chan walked away without another word, and I assumed that he wanted me to follow him. I ignored every instinct that was screaming for me to escape with my evidence because I wouldn’t make it the bottom of the staircase before a Coven member would prevent that from happening. Instead, I took slow steps on unsteady legs into Chan’s bedroom. I was inherently curious, but when he gently backed me against the wall, I understood perfectly well what he wanted.

His fingers were undoing the buttons on my shirt and I carefully shrugged off my jacket before he could find and apprehend the valuable photographs inside my pockets. I also made sure Jisung’s journal was hidden beneath the fabric before I allowed Chan to take me to his bed. The oldest vampire made no secret of his desires, tossing aside his shirt before tugging the fabric of my jeans down my legs. “Y/N,” he sighed, fingering the edges of my panties while his sharpened canines drew lines along my collarbones. My body reacted on instinct because it was impossible to resist Chan when he was looking at me like I was the answer to all of his problems. Despite everything he had done to me, I still responded to his touches and the taste of his skin on my lips. Instead of pushing him away, I held him close, occasionally glancing at my jacket waiting next to the door with the incriminating evidence necessary to end the Coven forever.

“Oh, Y/N,” he moaned. “I missed you.”

Maybe that was part of the reason why I didn’t resist because I knew that he would never bother me again once the police had their prosecution trial. It was an intoxicating sensation since I was the one with all the power and he was completely clueless to my intentions. He had no idea that I came back to spite the Coven instead of joining them like they wanted.

I watched him roll on a condom, erection prominent as he pushed slowly between my legs. I felt incredibly full, studying the pleasure on his face when he started to thrust inside of me. I looked at him the entire time with eyes wide open because I knew something that he didn’t and, while he was pleasuring me with his precious members waiting downstairs, I was taking back all that time spent in this mansion, knowing that they were more dangerous than anything I had ever encountered before.

His cock moved faster, and I reacted by spreading my legs wider for him, opening myself up to Chan’s advances. It didn’t take him long to come, and I finally closed my eyes when I felt his warm release through the thin latex of the condom. His kisses were familiar, but they also made me want to laugh because I was planning on betraying the people who claimed to love me, the vampires who actually did love me in their own messed up way.

“I love you,” he eventually said, but I didn’t respond, choosing instead to count the tiles on the ceiling overhead.

“Photos, names, addresses, detailed journal accounts...Y/N, you managed to find everything! We can cross-reference this stuff with the files and paperwork we already have.”

I smiled despite the circumstances, watching as two younger detectives sorted the files and pictures before retreating from the tiny interrogation room. “It wasn’t exactly easy for me.”

“Still, this is brilliant, Y/N,” Officer Smith exclaimed, and I felt satisfied knowing that I had done a good job. “We have enough evidence to start the raid.”

“Raid?”

She nodded. “You should know that Vampire raids are extremely rare, but I don’t think your Coven will surrender when we issue the warrant.”

I wrinkled my nose at the suggestion that I could ever belong to the Miroh Coven. “Is it safe?”

“It’s a commonplace occurrence and we’ve all received special training,” she said. “Hopefully, they’ll come to their senses and agree to a trial, but it won’t take much for a judge to officially convict them.”

“Will I have to be at the trial?” I asked, dreading the idea before it could even become official.

“I wouldn’t force you,” she replied. “A testimony would be critical, but this is enough to put them away for the rest of their immortal lives.”

I couldn’t imagine the dreaded reality of such a punishment. “What if they escape? They might try and track me down.”

“Witness protection,” she suggested. “We’ll accommodate you to the best of our abilities.”

“I understand the concept,” I said. “But they’ve found me before despite everything I did to hide.”

“Well, we can work out the details later,” she said. “For now, we need to prepare for the raid. We’ll start by sending in the evidence to the court to get our warrant for their immediate arrest.”

“Is it something that will happen soon?”

“I might have a way to expedite the process,” she grinned. “We’ve been on this case for long enough, bothering the courts for documents and employee records.”

I nodded slowly. “So everything is done?”

“For the most part,” she agreed. “We can commence stage two of our operation.”

“Thank god,” I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “I’m glad that it’s over.”

“Yes,” the officer said, but there was a reluctance in her tone that sent me immediately on edge. “Of course, we can always use your help with one last thing.”

“What could I do at this point? I’m not exactly trained for this sort of thing.”

“Yes, but we wouldn’t want the Coven to suspect anything,” she said. “They might try to leave before our warrant is formally issued. Until then, I think a distraction might hold their attention.”

“Me,” I intoned, narrowing my eyes because I wanted nothing more to do with those nasty vampires.

“We wouldn’t want them to suspect anything,” she said. “If you go back to the Coven, then they might lower their guard.”

“It was supposed to end,” I reminded her. “You said that I was finished with them.”

“I know we’re asking a lot of you,” Officer Smith said. “But this will be the last time you ever have to see them again.”

“You keep saying that,” I muttered, but we both knew that I was in too deep, which meant that I had no choice but to return to the mansion.

Felix greeted me at the door with his familiar smirk, escorting me inside to the bottom of the staircase. Today meant the official end of the Coven, but they were all completely ignorant to their impending punishment. “They want to discuss something with you,” Felix said, and I understood immediately who he was referring to despite the unnecessary pronoun game.

Still, I knew that I couldn’t keep them waiting, pausing outside of Chan’s office door before I heard someone invite me inside. I took a deep breath, opening the door to discover the three leaders waiting for me expectantly while wearing similar expressions of dark foreboding. “Y/N,” Chan said. “Have a seat.”

I obeyed instantly, looking at the Miroh Coven leader as he watched me with an unnerving attentiveness. “What’s going on? I asked.

“I think we have something serious to discuss,” Chan said and my heart was practically beating out of my chest as I studied Jisung and Changbin from the corner of my eye. They knew, I repeated to myself over and over again as I imagined a dozen different scenarios that all ended with my lifeless body thrown into some kind of river because they had discovered my treason.

“You came back,” Jisung finally said. “We weren’t expecting you to accept our invitation.”

“I was being polite,” I said, rubbing my hands along the seam line of my jeans.

“Yes, but we’re all here,” Changbin said. “We can be together.”

I shivered at his words. “We love you, Y/N,” Chan said. “The eight of us would like nothing more than to keep you with us forever.

“To turn me,” I confirmed, and he nodded his head.

“We’ll make it special,” Jisung said, patting his lap and I reluctantly joined him.

“It doesn’t have to be tonight,” Changbin confirmed, swiping his tongue across his sharp teeth. “But we are hungry.”

“And you’re such a sweet girl,” Jisung added, holding me on his lap as his teeth brushed across my carotid artery.

I held my breath because he was close to biting, but then...

“Chan! The police are outside and have a warrant to investigate the property!”

Jeongin’s face was a mess of tears which, at one time, might’ve forced me to reconsider everything that I had done, but not anymore. “What?” Chan growled, before glaring at me. “You stay here,” Chan said, and Jisung snarled in frustration as he released me before following Changbin and Chan downstairs.

For a moment, I could only focus on breathing because I had narrowly escaped Jisung’s bite and now the Coven knew that they were about to receive an unanticipated raid from the police. I swallowed hard, falling down into the floor as a piercing scream shattered the previous silence that left me shaking like a leaf inside of Chan’s office. There were suddenly loud growls and vicious noises penetrating the closed door and I buried my head between my legs and tried to calm down my racing heart.

I could hear the familiar sounds of glass breaking, of inhuman screams and yells breaking the barrier of the office. The voices of the vampires I had once known yelling out insults and curses, the destructive noises of gunshots and human-like cries for help as teeth tore through skin. It was apparent that the Miroh Coven was not backing down from this fight, and I could only pray that my officer had been right in her assurances that they could handle the Coven.

It seemed like hours had passed before I finally removed my hands from my ears, realizing that the screaming from downstairs had suddenly stopped. I waited for several moments, hearing nothing but my heartbeat in my ears and the gentle sounds of the river outside. Eventually, I managed to stand on unsteady legs, holding myself up against the wall as I started to make my way downstairs.

The smells that assaulted my senses should’ve told me everything, but I still released a piercing scream when I collapsed at the bottom of the staircase.

It was a terrifying sight, nothing but blood and crooked bodies spread throughout the room. I recognized most of the Coven, bile rising in my throat when I made contact with Changbin’s lifeless eyes. I carefully took a step back because I knew that this wasn’t supposed to happen, but an unexpected pressure around my ankle tore another scream from my throat and I fell down onto the floor.

“Y/N,” Chan croaked and I shivered when he moved over me, blood seeping through his shirt, but his eyes were still perfectly focused. “I have nothing now, Y/N,” Chan gasped, gripping tightly to my chin and forcing me to look into the empty eyes of Han Jisung.

He pulled me closer, exposing his sharpened teeth and I could do nothing to stop him. This was it, I thought to myself, the moment I had been running from since that tragic night eight months ago. Because Chan was unrelenting, drinking with long, painful bites that sent a searing pain down my spine as my body fought against the significant blood loss. Everything was cold and I wondered if death always felt this unpleasant.

However, the sudden reverberation of a loud snarl forced me to reconsider the darkening spots in my vision, searching behind me when I realized the brutal aspect of Chan’s bite had suddenly subsided. I felt my mouth drop open in horror, but the feeling quickly disappeared when I realized Officer Smith had speared Chan straight through the heart with a silver stake. The impact was immediate and Chan’s body dropped to the floor unceremoniously, leaving me with only a pair of red eyes gazing unblinkingly from the beyond. Meanwhile, Officer Smith offered me a kind smile that seemed out of place considering the blood staining the front of her uniform. “You deserve a better life, Y/N,” she whispered before her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she collapsed next to Chan.

It took me a moment to regain my bearings, looking around at the surrounding carnage. There was blood everywhere, bodies lying in deep puddles and contorted awkwardly from their injuries. It was a startling realization because they were all gone, both vampires and humans. There was nothing left from their vicious fight.

I was also incredibly tired and I closed my eyes despite my situation. Everything felt heavy, and I just wanted to forget the entire night before I had to comprehend the unfortunate tragedy of the Miroh Coven. I thought I deserved it considering the heavy loss weighing over my heart.

After a while, I became aware of a piercing light burning from somewhere in the distance. I gradually opened my eyes because the morning had arrived and, despite the death and destruction around me, I wanted desperately to find a better future in that beautiful light...

Epilogue- 2 Years Later

Vampires had rapidly gone into hiding, especially following the inquiry into the Miroh Massacre, as the newspapers delicately framed the tragedy. Apparently, society decided that they would no longer embrace their culture, finding more evidence of various Covens abusing the donor law which was eventually retracted in court. Subsequently, the vampires were forced to remain out of the public eye lest they face a severe punishment from the newly minted Hunters who spent their lives training to kill rogue vampires.

As for myself, I had finally taken back full ownership of my life, accepting a full-time research position that eventually led me to my future husband. After our marriage, we moved into an idyllic home in the suburbs and I gave birth to my son who proved to be everything that I needed in this world. Everything was starting to work out for me, and I was finally reassured that the past was truly forgotten because the ones who had haunted it were now gone forever.

“Mommy!” my son called, and I found him in the doorway to his bedroom looking up at me with tired brown eyes. “I can’t sleep.”

“Why is that?” I asked while gently encouraging him to lay back down on his bed.

“A kid in my class,” he said. “He told us about the vampires.”

“Yeah? Well, how would he know anything? He’s probably never even seen a vampire. Not many people have.”

“What about you?”

I shivered at the question. “It doesn’t matter, sweetheart. Vampires aren’t a problem anymore and there are people now who can protect us.”

“Really?” he asked, and his eyes were incredibly innocent of the true horrors of this world.

“They won’t ever hurt you,” I promised my son before flipping his light switch. I closed the door gently, praying that he might sleep through the entire night in his own bed, before I walked into the kitchen for something to drink. I smirked as I popped the cork on a new bottle of wine that my husband had bought for the two of us to share. It seemed unnecessarily mischievous to drink with my son in the other room, but I still liked to indulge every now and then, especially after remaining sober for nine months during my pregnancy.

I sighed as I drained the first glass, feeling the numbing effects spread through my body like an aphrodisiac. It had been a stressful day because of some unnecessary paperwork at the research institute where I worked, but I knew that everyday couldn’t be perfect. After all, I was absolutely grateful for everything in my life, even if it caused me the occasional headache.

I started washing my wine glass, lost in thought until a strange noise outside forced me to pause in my cleaning. It sounded close to the garage attached to our house, and I figured it might be raccoons again because they were becoming a problem. I glanced out the window, shrugging when I didn’t notice anything suspicious. However, if I had only taken an extra moment to study the outline of my husband’s garden, then I might’ve noticed the unusual pair of crimson-red eyes watching me from outside.

The End.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #stray kids yandere #skz yandere #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz minho fanfic #skz chan fanfic #skz changbin fanfic #skz hyunjin #skz jisung fanfic #skz han fanfic #skz felix fanfic #skz seungmin fanfic #Skz jeongin fanfic

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dwaynepride · 4 years ago

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the unfortunate case of nonchalance

PART V - BLOOD WAS OUR INHERITANCE

summary: jethro’s heart is pulling him two ways, and it’s hard to navigate the right direction.

words: 3,335

warnings: female reader

tags: @fairytale07 @jrenn10 @f4nboi @purplestarsr5 @ladyzombiielove @littlemiss3ma @minikate--24-05 @consultingdoctorwholock @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy @ms-allenbrown @ikbenplant @dylpickles1267 @diaryofafan17 @specialagentlokitty @pageofultron @stanathanxoox @kittenlittle24

author’s note: part 5 of the cowboy!au series. this is a part of meg’s 11k challenge. the prompts are cowboy au and secret relationship trope.

part IV | part VI

March 7th, 1889

Once again, I am a wanted man.

The botched bank job was nearly five days ago, and I’ve felt every single second of it. Anthony’s wound is worse than I feared - Doctor Mallard is doing all he can, but I know that man. His hopes are not high. Anthony’s got a fever and he still bleeds from time to time.

That boy is strong, but even I’m starting to worry.

And we can’t leave while Anthony’s so weak. Everybody’s been packing up, ready to turn tail, but a journey may very well kill Anthony, if his infection doesn’t.

I know my thoughts should be on finding a way to leave, but they’re not. Not all of them. When it’s quiet, I find myself wondering if Y/N is safe. She was far from the shooting, I know that. But that doesn’t stop my concerns.

I need to make sure she’s alright; that’s the only way I’ll be able to concentrate on anything else. I’ll ride to her home at night and no one’s gotta know I was back in town.

Plus, I feel that maybe she’ll help get my head on straight.

The night is so silent, Jethro barely lets himself breathe.

Even taking the long route all the way around the outskirts of town, he was nervous. Every shadow, every noise had him instinctively reaching for his pistol. It was some sort of miracle that he hadn’t run into any law yet, but seeing the pure white paint of your home made Jethro’s stomach tight.

All the windows were dark, except for one. A candle flickers on the windowsill; its light is warm and inviting and it draws Jethro in to search for you. Though, with his luck, your bedroom would be on the second floor.

His footfalls are silent against the ground. He still keeps a hand on his pistol, but Jethro’s eyes are locked on the candle in the window. He reaches the house, leaning his back against the wood. And slowly, carefully, his head creeps forward to peer in through the window.

His eyes take a moment to adjust to the light, but the image he finds when Jethro looks in makes his heart tight. There, on the bed, you’re laying with a book in hand. You haven’t noticed him, too focused on reading, but Jethro’s just pleased that he’s found you so easily. He’s already been in town for too long.

A hand comes up, and he gently knocks his knuckles against the glass. Instantly, you jump, eyes wide as they flicker up to look in his direction.

That look of recognition makes this whole journey worth it.

Jethro sees his name leave your lips, and he quickly motions for you to come outside. You’re reluctant, he can tell. And he can’t really blame you, neither. But again, he beckons you out. Eventually you nod, and he watches you scurry out of your room.

His hands curl into fists, and Jethro reminds himself to breathe. But try as he might, he can’t seem to calm himself. Five long days of wondering and worrying, only to find you home; safe and sound and reading a book in your bed. Now, he just wants to talk to you. Hear your voice and simply be in your presence.

After what feels like minutes, the back door of your home finally squeaks open. He hears it, and Jethro immediately moves toward the back of the house. And there, in the light of a half-moon, you’re standing there looking at him and Jethro suddenly can’t remember how to use his own words.

“Jethro,” you breathe out. It’s almost inaudible, but he catches it. And when you run up to him with open arms, he catches you, too. You smell of wildflowers and Jethro’s instantly taken back to that day by the river. When you kissed him softly and he felt your lips for days after

That feels like a lifetime ago.

“I’m okay. I’m right here,” he mumbles. And Jethro’s not afraid to squeeze you just a little too hard. God, as much as he says he’s been worried about you - he’s missed you a hell of a lot more. As crazy and scary as things have been the last few days, this is the first time Jethro feels a sense of normalcy. Like everything is suddenly right in the world.

He wants to stay in this hug forever, but you’re the one to pull away. And when Jethro looks in your eyes, he doesn’t find the happiness he expects to see. He isn’t barraged with questions of if he’s alright or what happened or if everyone was safe.

Instead, you step away from him. Still within arm’s reach, but no longer holding him. “The bank...all those lawmen....Jethro...?”

His eyes fall away. Perhaps Jethro was naive to think you wouldn’t have questions about the heist. Perhaps he was stupid in thinking your happiness to see him would somehow overshadow why he did what he did. But that explanation would take too long and Jethro simply wanted to be here with you.

Your face was taut. Unmovable. And he knows you deserve to know who he is.

His thumbs trail over your forearms, grip still tight in case you decide to pull yourself from his grasp. “I’m not exactly who you think I am, sweetheart,” he says lowly.

You look confused - as if not properly understanding what he means. “You’re Jethro Gibbs,” you tell him firmly. “You came into town with your friends-”

“My gang,” he cuts in. And as your eyes go wide, Jethro’s gaze falls once again. “We aren’t just moving into town, we came here to hide. We....we did some bad things out West. Things that I regret.” The words felt like poison on his tongue. It felt like every syllable was just pushing you farther and farther away from him. But Jethro finally looks back up, watching your shocked expression. “Things that got Shannon killed, and ain’t been ‘till now that I wanted to change. My gang’s not quite there yet - they’re still convinced we gotta rob folk. The bank wasn’t my idea.”

Finally, you wrench your arms out of his grasp. And your eyes had gotten harder. Almost angry; it’s the first time Jethro’s seen you like this. Not even at the saloon when the barkeep threatened to call the law on him. “I have a hard time believing you didn’t know anything about it, Jethro. They’re your friends,” you bite out. Jethro’s never felt quite so small. “My father works there. What if he’d been-”

“My people aren’t killers.”

“And how should I believe you? Seems like everything you’ve told me is a lie. Is your name actually Leroy Jethro Gibbs, or is it something you’ve made up?”

Jethro is silent for a moment. “You think I can make up a name quite so ridiculous?”

You huff and turn away from him to walk back into the house. Truthfully, that smartass comment was reflexive, and Jethro’s kicking himself for saying it. “Hey, hold on,” he says, reaching out and grabbing your hand. And you try once again to pull free, but Jethro’s much too strong. He comes around to face you, eyes intense and serious and you even stop struggling when you meet them. “Not everything’s a lie. I do care ‘bout you - a whole hell of a lot,” he says softly.

He can tell that makes you think. The way you watch him, reluctant to believe him, but also wanting to. And God, Jethro wants you to. His stomach’s painfully tight at the thought of his foolishness being what drives you away.

And his fears are realized.

This time, when you pull your hand back, he lets you go. “You’re an outlaw, Jethro. A criminal.” Your voice is so hard, so harsh against his ears, that Jethro can’t really believe that he heard it.

But he’s not stupid nor deaf.

“Well, you let this outlaw teach you how to shoot, sweetheart. And better yet, you kissed a criminal. Don’t act so high, like your hands are clean.” The words are sharp and terrible, he knows. He spits them out with the poison on his tongue and Jethro’s too angry to feel bad about it.

The light of the half-moon reflects off your tears in the split second he can see your face, because you’re walking away from him toward the back door. “Get out of here, Jethro GIbbs, or I swear I’ll start screaming and get the law down here!”

You don’t even look at him. Not one measly glance as you pull the door open to rush inside. For a few seconds, his feet are rooted to the dirt. And as mad as he is, Jethro doesn’t quite want to leave. That pull that drove him here is still in his gut, much to his annoyance. Buried under the heat of the argument. Plus, he made you cry - some of that anger is pointed to himself.

He turns away from your perfect white house, disappearing back into the darkness so the law can’t see him. And Jethro doesn’t look back, not once.

If he had, he knows he would’ve seen your sad face in the window.

Anthony’s infection was like a cough that just couldn’t be shaken.

None of Doctor Mallard’s tonics seem to be working. And as Anthony’s condition worsened, it seems like the gang’s morale faltered, too. Jethro felt that change; he is not immune to the mood that wily young Italian brings to the gang. And with the argument he had with you last night - well, he doesn’t want to admit how much he misses Anthony’s bad jokes.

His hand runs slowly up and down the muzzle of his horse as Jethero waits on Abigail. Their plan is foolish. Could likely get them locked up, or worse. But with Anthony on death’s doorstep, there’s little choice.

Abigail had not been involved in the bank heist. She’s the one who will walk into the general store and buy the things Mallard needs. Jethro’s going along to keep an eye on her, much to the gang’s distress. Because if they lose Anthony, could they really afford to lose Jethro, as well?

Perhaps not. But Jethro wasn’t going to let his foolishness get Abigail into trouble. And letting her go alone would be dangerous.

As they ride into town, he keeps his hat low. Doesn’t look anybody in the eye. It’s been some years since he’s had to ride through a town where he’s wanted, and he hasn’t missed the way it feels. The urge to run, or the sensation that everybody’s staring at him. Having to keep his ears pricked, waiting to hear a lawman shout his name, or the crack of a rifle.

“There’s the general store,” Abigail points out.

He nods without a word, and to his surprise, Abigail has kept a lid on her usual chatterbox self. He knows she’s no fool; this is too important, and her nervous talking may likely draw attention. Even her usual frilly black lace attire has been replaced with a much less noticeable dress. Truly a sacrifice.

But Anthony’s life is more important, right now.

They climb off their horses, and Abigail makes a beeline for the door. “I’ll stay out here. To keep watch,” Jethro mumbles out. His eyes flicker around the street, relieved that everything seems normal.

Abigail nods. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

Her words bring little comfort. Jethro doesn’t like feeling so exposed.

Jethro tries not to watch people as they walk by. That would only make him look suspicious - on the other hand, he needs to keep an eye out. Be it paranoia or caution, Jethro watches the townspeople from under the wide brim of his hat. For him, it’s unusual how normal they all act when Anthony is back at camp dying.

And he’s not sure what powers are at play. Whether God or the Universe or just bad karma coming to bite him in the ass. But Jethro’s gaze wonders over across the street, a few buildings down. His heart stops dead, and limbs go cold. Not even the scariest lawman in the state could make Jethro quite so scared.

You haven’t noticed him, of course. Nobody has. But Jethro noticed you instantly. Like his heart was a compass.

He watches you, deep in conversation with the owner of the store you just walked out of. And it’s no wonder - your last name is on the top of that store. This must be some kind of business meeting.

And Jethro’s well aware he’s staring. He knows he outta be on the look out. Knows he really shouldn’t care whether or not you’re in town because of some bank business that your father likely roped you into. The argument was still fresh in his head - there was nary a time Jethro didn’t think back on that night with a hole in his heart. Or a fire in his belly.

Despite his mixed feelings, Jethro’s certain you’ll still be cross with him. Would tell him that you never want to see him again, and he’s not sure he can take hearing that, right now.

But God, how he misses you.

Losing the privilege of talking and spending afternoons with you felt like losing a limb. Jethro missed being able to escape his lowly life for a few hours and feel almost free. And you make him feel good, too. Like he can be a decent, respectable man with a decent, respectable life.

If he apologized, can Jethro even hope you’d forgive him?

Finally, you seem to conclude the conversation with the store owner and begin walking away. Jethro’s first instinct is to follow, and for once, he’s well-aware of how misguided his instincts have been, lately. His head swivels around to the door - Abigail would be fine for a few minutes, surely. He only needs to say a few words to you. And that’s still assuming you would stop and listen.

Jethro is careful about how fast he walks - slow enough to not attract attention, but fast enough to catch up. His stomach is tight, palms are clammy, and Jethro finds he can’t hardly breathe once he’s a mere foot away.

But he needs to concentrate. Needs to stay calm to get your attention.

Slowly, he walks up to your side. And before you could turn and look at him, Jethro leans his head over. “It’s me,” he mumbles out. You jump in surprise, give a gasp, and Jethro’s worried you might say his name and out him. Perhaps this was a mistake.

You don’t say a word. You just stare at him, mouth agape, and he knows this is the perfect time to pull you away from public eye.

With a hand on your arm, he discreetly pulls you into the space between two buildings. Just wide enough to fit the both of them, but provides the perfect privacy he needs. Away from the high society he loathes so much - the only attention he seeks is yours, and now he’s got it.

It comes with a price, though. Your face isn’t so bright and alive as it usually is, and Jethro knows he’s the cause of that. Your eyes watch him carefully, and he notices dark circles that were never there previously. Haven’t you been sleeping?

“What are you doing in town?” You ask him harshly. Jethro’s head backs away from the ferocity of your words. “If the law catches you, you’ll be hanged.”

He knows that. And he knows the stupid decision he made leaving the shop to chase after you. “My friend was shot. We’re here getting some medicine for him, but I think we might be too late,” Jethro says flatly.

And to your credit, you look sad. Sympathetic for his problems, and Jethro doesn’t miss the way your hand comes to grip his arm. As if comforting him, but too afraid to really commit to it. “I’m sorry, Jethro. I really am. I do hope he gets better. But we should not be talking, and you should not be here.”

You’re inching away from him, eyes downcast. And it isn’t until Jethro sticks his arm up to block your path do you stop. “So that’s it? After everything,” he asks. You don’t respond, and that only flares up his old anger from the previous fight. “I know I can never measure up to you and your family. I know I’m some lowlife, no-good cowboy-”

“Jethro, I didn’t mean what I said.”

Your words drain the anger from him. Maybe they shouldn’t; Jethro is never so easily swayed by words. But you look back up to him, meeting his eyes. “I was just....angry and confused and frightened. My father was going mad with everything that happened. You’re a good man, I know that. And I’m so sorry about what I said.”

The apology wasn’t expected. Jethro sooner prepared for a slap to the face than your honest regret. And a small flare of hope rises - that maybe this doesn’t have to end.

You’re still staring. Watching his expression soften, and eventually, your hand reaches out to grip his. A gentle squeeze that Jethro’s been craving. The soft touch that somehow manages to mend some of the cracks that these last few days have inflicted on him.

The seconds tick by, and Jethro knows he’s already been away for too long. It was a gamble to leave the store, and now he’s just being foolish for staying this long.

Regardless, Jethro leans in and presses his lips against yours with fervor. If the first kiss were as gentle and slow as a stream, than this kiss was a raging river. It knocks the wind out of him. Makes him feel like he’s drowning and you’re keeping him afloat. And you....you’re grabbing onto him. Clutching him tight by his coat, unwilling to let him leave this little bubble you’ve created.

Acting like this is the final kiss you’ll ever share.

Jethro promises himself that won’t be the case.

Your lips are soft and pliable against his. Jethro would happily stay in this crevice for the rest of his life, but he breaks the kiss. As he leans back, he sees small tears trickle down your cheeks. With a heavy heart, he wipes them away. “I need to go now. But I need you to do something,” he says, voice somehow sturdy after that kiss.

You look reluctant. “Jethro-”

“Tell your father about us. About everything,” Jethro states. And he ignores the way your eyes flicker away briefly before returning. “Once Anthony’s fit to travel, we’re leaving. And I want you to leave with us.”

It was a tall order, he knew. Leaving everything you knew. Everyone you love. But Jethro knows he wants you with him. Feels it in his bones that you’re meant to be with him, always. And the way you’re still gripping onto him, you must feel the same. That undeniable tug, like a rope around his neck.

His hand runs along your cheek one final time before he pulls away. Unfurls your hands from his coat and squeezes out of the crevice. On his way back to the store, Jethro doesn’t look back. And yet, he feels your eyes on him.

Just as he returns, Abigail is exiting the store. And she’s isn’t stupid; she knows he was gone. Instead of scolding him for such a stupid move, she just furrows her eyebrows at him. “Where did you go?” She asks.

Jethro keeps his hat down, unwilling to look her in the eye. His answer was too long. Too complex.

“Something important I had to take care of,” he answers simply. Not a great answer, but the only one he’ll provide. “C’mon, let’s get back to camp.”

#ncis reader insert #ncis x reader #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs imagine

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mostfacinorous · 4 years ago

Text

GO Whumptober Day 28: Such Wow. Many Normal. Very Oops. [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][16][17][18][19][20][21][22][23][24][25][26][27]

The cause of the freezing, humans determined, was either merely ‘nature’ or ‘the growing climate crisis’, depending on whether the person speaking believed in that sort of thing. Either way, everyone could agree that it was unusual to unheard of, and no one much appreciated it.

It had eased off a bit, though-- still frozen, so the snow and ice was sticking around, but the wind had died off and the snow was no longer coming down in buckets, for which they were all very grateful.

The Bentley remained where she’d been parked since that first attempted afternoon out, and the plowed mountain behind her only grew ever higher and ever thicker.

Much like their American cousins from years prior, local heads of council had to remind their followers not to jump out of upper floor windows and into the snow, for fear of cars lurking underneath, and injuries that could and would result from such foolishness.

It didn’t fully stop it from happening, but it might have deterred an idiot or two.

Fortunately, neither Crowley nor Aziraphale was particularly interested in jumping out of windows.

There were, however, interested in having a bit of a walk, as it had warmed up enough to allow for it again, and they were feeling a little cooped up.

And so they packed their cocoa and coffee into a couple of thermoses-- carefully color coordinated in black and lightest blue tartan, so as to never be confused with The Thermos, of which they did not speak-- and headed to the park for a bit of time in the watery grey sun of London in winter.

The streets were clear enough to walk on safely and carefully, but the path round the lake was only worn down by others’ feet, and the snow had been trampled enough to have turned to mud, then frozen back to ice in places, making their usual habit of walking and talking more dangerous.

They had decided, after God’s admonition about getting closer, to try and keep their time apart to a minimum. This suited them both quite well, considering the trials and tribulations they’d faced of late, and it was delightful to finally have an excuse to be around one another that neither side could really argue with. After all, not being near Aziraphale when God arrived had put Crowley out of commission for days, and if he had been close, She may not have come at all. Thwarting at its finest, on both sides of the line.

And so, if they held hands to help steady one another, there wasn’t anything Heaven nor Hell could do about it, short of shaking their heads with disgust.

“I miss the ducks.” Crowley said suddenly, interrupting the silence that had descended as their last conversational topic had waned.

“Do you?” Aziraphale asked, surprised. “You always treat them quite poorly; I thought you disliked them.”

“I do not!” Crowley protested. “I play with them. Same as how they play with one another, innit?”

Aziraphale held his thoughts on the matter. He did glance out across the lake, though.

“I wonder how firmly frozen it is. Do you suppose they will be able to ice skate on it, after a storm like that?”

Crowley tilted his head and looked out over the ice.

“At least a couple of ‘em are gonna give it a go. Look.” He nodded off near the high reeds, where the ducks liked to put their eggs come spring, and where a few children appeared to be slipping off their shoes, with plans of skating over the ice in their stockings.

“Heavens.” Aziraphale said. “Perhaps we ought to do something to stop them.” He began heading in that direction, a little too far off to be heard if he yelled.

“Bit too late for that, Angel!” He heard as Crowley raced past him, realizing as he did that he’d pressed his mobile into Aziraphale’s hands. He looked up to see a child take off from the edge straight towards the middle of the pond-- and promptly fall through the ice and into the waters below.

“Bugger.” Aziraphale muttered under his breath.

Crowley was fast, faster than the other children, even, and he shouted for them to stay as he slid on his stomach towards the hole in the ice.

Aziraphael fumbled with the phone for a spare moment, then got a call in to emergency services. “Hello, yes, I am in St. james’ park, just north of the playground on the birdcage side of the lake-- a child has fallen through the ice and my partner has gone in after them. No, no, I can’t see-- they’ve surfaced. Please send help, I’m going to give you to a child now.”

Aziraphale handed the phone off to the young girl who was standing by, mouth agape.

“Help them find us, please.” He told her, a touch of miracle in his voice to give her the courage she needed to do the job, and then he turned to the lake.

“Crowley?” He called to the man who was clutching at the ice with inhumanly sharp talons that had sprouted from his fingers while he held a boy between his chest and the rim of the hole. “What can I do to help?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley had lost his glasses, and his eyes were wide.

“Don’t come out on the ice- it’s not gonna hold.” Even as he spoke, his fingers on one hand went crashing through the surface, sending them both bobbing as the boy cried out.

“Tail!” Aziraphale shouted, hoping Crowley had enough presence of mind to handle the change. He had always been a better swimmer while serpentine, and perhaps, that done--

He saw the moment that Crowley gained the advantage and they became a little steadier in the water.

“Now then-- if you have to, put him on your back, and break the ice away between you and the shore until you can climb out safely!”

Aziraphale felt next to useless, but he supposed at least one of them had a mind that was not freezing or panicking, and thus was able to assist that way.

“You hear that?” He heard Crowley mumbling comfortingly to the boy. “I’m going to give you a piggy ride now. You hold on tightly, understand? And I’ll soon have us out of here.”

Aziraphale watched, fretting terribly as Crowley helped the boy to climb around on the other side of him, and then began the process of smashing through the ice with his claws.

Aziraphale turned around and saw the fire brigade approaching, an ambulance in tow, and turned back to warn Crowley to hide his transformations.

“The Rescuers are here-- it won’t be long now!” He tried to make it sound hopeful and not as though he was playing supernatural lookout. It seemed to work, though, as the first of them reached him and clapped a hand on his back.

“You’re the caller?” She asked, and Aziraphale nodded, pointing as he accepted Crowley’s phone back from her.

“They’re nearly to the edge,” He added helpfully, though there was a dark and obvious trail of broken ice that marked how far they’d come.

“We’ve got them.” She promised, and waved for backup.

A small army of men and women ran down to the river’s edge to lift the boy off of Crowley’s back as he final grabbed hold of solid land, and Aziraphale managed to shoulder his way through them to reach down and grasp Crowley’s hands.

“There you are, you brave, stupid fool.” He said, pulling him up and onto land and into his arms.

Crowley was shaking with cold, and he had already partially soaked through Aziraphale’s clothing when the team brought them emergency blankets.

“Come on now, let’s get you out of your clothes and warming up.” One of the men instructed.

Aziraphale turned to be sure the boy was receiving the same sort of care; he was already in someone’s thermals.

“Alright.” Crowley agreed, surprising Aziraphale. He was looking straight at the angel, though, not at the humans who were trying to shuffle him off to the trucks for treatment. “Stay with me?” He asked, almost a plea, and Aziraphale knew it was only partially to help him fend off discovery. The other part was God and the unspoken threat of having saved a human life-- and what Hell might do to him for it.

“Of course. Let me help him-- he’s ah, special needs.”

“Alright.” The officials were quick to agree, with the tiniest nudge from Aziraphale. “The parents are on their way, I’m sure they’ll want to talk to you and we’ll need to take down statements for our reports after.”

“Of course.” Aziraphale said again. “If you can just fetch us some dry clothing for him--”

He sent them scurrying, and turned back to Crowley.

“Shall we get out of here before they come back, my dear? Make a run for it?”

Crowley, still shivering as if his bones intended to shake out of his skin, grinned back at Aziraphale.

“Best idea you’ve had all day, Angel.”

They booked it, making it out of sight before Aziraphale dried Crowley with a miracle and warmed him with another.

The walk home was almost anticlimactic, after all that.

“Ohh… I dropped the thermoses!” Aziraphale lamented, and Crowley huffed.

“Shall we stop by that little teashop up near Piccadilly?” He offered.

“Oh, let’s. I suppose you could do with something warm to drink anyway.”

“I wouldn’t object. And then home, to a fire and several blankets.” Crowley insisted. He paused, then added, “Thank you, by the way. I saw the boy and didn’t think-- I ought to keep you around, have you keep doing that for me, when needed.”

Aziraphale bumped their shoulders together.

“You’ll be hard pressed to get rid of me, you’ll find, if you keep pulling stunts like that.”

Their usual routine resumed, they made their way towards the tea shop, and home, and left the humans to wonder why they had run, why the boy was swearing the man who’d saved him was a mermaid, and how the hell someone had happened to miraculously be in the right place at the right time to stop childish stupidity from turning tragic.

It was, all in all, a rather successful outing.

#GO Whumptober2020 #Whumptober #Good Omens Fic #GOFic #Crowley #Aziraphale #crowley is good with kids #Ineffable Husbands #that writing thing I do

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greenwaterskeeter · 4 years ago

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i finally have a coherent personal narrative, and here it is. It’s quite long, but i think of some interest, and might be encouraging!

-Mentions of suicidal ideation, emotional and financial abuse, emotional incest, fatphobia, misogyny, capitalism. Whatever the qpr equivalent of romance is. Ends happily-

I felt for a long time that i should have died when i was 20. Not in the sense that i deserved to, but in the sense that by then i’d accomplished as much as i ever would and was therefore obsolete– taking up resources unnecessarily.

When i was 13, i felt forced to choose between my parents. My bus driver/karate teacher, a kind person who i very much admired, advised me to flip a coin and then, if i didn’t like the result, pick the other. I chose my mother and (privately) pledged absolute loyalty to her (I was obsessed with LOTR at the time and felt that it was the purpose of my life to be a Sam for somebody).

While she was single and struggling to keep the farm and raise my brother (a toddler then), that devotion was used and rewarded. There were times i thought with satisfaction that i might as well be her husband, as well as a parent to my beloved brother. I was proud. I felt righteous. The joy of supporting and protecting her was real. The intermittent anguish of being a minor who could legally only do so much to help was also real. (I believed in laws then).

When I was 17, she remarried (a perfectly nice, wealthy man, as devoted as me and much more powerful) and i went to college. I slowly imploded across all four years, though I didn’t realize that until nearly the end. I think now it was because nothing i could offer her was needed anymore. Every time she treated me like a child instead of the valued partner i had been, i was crushed. Emasculated. i began to feel positively Tortured without understanding why. It sounds like a villain’s origin story, doesn’t it?

When it started affecting my performance, i could only think the trouble was that i was pining for a married professor, as you do. I had fallen in love with him, and made myself his best student (and then his TA, and then began to feel gross about it, quit, and started avoiding where i knew he’d be, all without telling anyone). Once my decline became known and answers were demanded, this was all i could offer in explanation.

I didn’t blame anyone consciously then, but i think now i felt betrayed by how my friends and family reacted. They all thought i must have seduced him (or vice versa if they were generous) to be so torn up. It was too foolish to become suicidal over a crush. They didn’t believe me, or accused me of grandiosity, when i said the professor didn’t even know how i felt. I have always struggled to keep in touch with people, and once my oldest friends gave me the Adultery is Bad talk, it was hard to keep trying.

Everyone did their best and we were all very young. I didn’t understand any more than they did. But still, i can acknowledge now what it would have meant to have just one person who believed in me regardless of understanding. On a deeply hidden level, i felt that my mother, at least, owed me that, after years of faithful service.

But horribly, once it became clear my suicidality was almost entirely passive, she turned on me. She was very frightened. I guess she had also been thanking her lucky stars all that time that i wasn’t turning out like my dad, but here i revealed myself at last to be a freeloader, just like him. I was supposed to go to medical school. I had been the pride of the extended family, the eldest and purest of my generation, a marvel of the local intelligentsia, and i wound up dragging myself back home inept, directionless, cringing, the same as so many unfortunate young cousins and neighbors who’d used to have me pointed out to them as an example. Who would my brothers look up to now?

I endured living at home for a few years. My mom couldn’t keep up the punishment constantly, so although there was no telling when she would start in on me again, or whether she might finally go through with evicting me, there were beautiful things too.

I worked for her husband’s business for no pay, which i understand now was abusive, but i have always enjoyed working with my hands, and when they left me to it, it felt like the old days, like i had a use, even if it was now peripheral. My brothers weren’t sure what to do with me, but we still had fun when we could. The animals comforted me, and it’s special to be able to give affection and gentleness to a creature who depends on you. The woods and mists and early mornings and silent moonlights were still beautiful, and gradually i could appreciate them again. When i was with people, i felt my disgrace abjectly. But on the farm there were many chores to be done alone.

The more i recovered, the more trapped i felt. I even, very alarmingly, spent about two hours one afternoon silently consumed with resentful feelings towards my mother (this hadn’t happened since i was 10). I began to be afraid of losing control and doing something desperate (I totaled two different trucks during this time, on roads i knew well, for no apparent reason). I had given up my spot at a medical school i would not get into twice, and the obvious escape was to reapply elsewhere. I attempted this, and sabotaged it, multiple times.

I got a job at a nursing home, which was hard on my back but full of wonderful people, and was forced to quit when it made me late to my shift at my stepfather’s business too many times. By this i understood that a local job was not getting me out of there. I asked for money to get an EMT certification and was refused. I applied to many online jobs, none of which i had enough time to make money from. I called up one or two branches of the military, and was rejected for being too fat, thank God. I applied to medical school again, and managed to not sabotage it enough that i was accepted into a master’s program instead. It was across the state, five hundred miles away.

And still it might have come to nothing, as i had no conscious plans, actually, of staying away once i was done with this master’s program. The expected thing would be to go on to medical school, but i was only anticipating the first day of being free and couldn’t imagine anything more than a week in the future. I looked at the amount of debt i was taking on for this, knowing in my heart that i would not get a job that could pay it back, and was only relieved that they hadn’t caught onto me and i could still get loans.

There are a lot of things in my story that aren’t what they say is healthy or proper. I shouldn’t have romanticized my own parentification, i should not have had feelings for a 50 year old man, i should have kept trying with my friends, who have good hearts and only made one mistake before i ghosted them, i should have kept telling the truth, i shouldn’t have taken moral injury from things that weren’t my fault, i should have been properly angry with my mother at some point, i should not be grateful that my tendency is to harm myself rather than others.

One person alone should not have been able to save me.

In the second month of my year away, i was in a study group with my roommates and some of their acquaintances, and i laughingly shared some anecdote or other that i thought was harmless. I don’t remember whether anyone else laughed, but one person said: “That sounds kind of fucked up.”

“Oh,” I said, embarrassed. “Eh, well.”

Nothing more was made of it, and we went on studying. Later, this same person saw me sitting in the cafeteria alone and came to sit with me. We met to study again, just us two, and they showed me a video about white tears and watched me closely for my reaction. We compared ideals and found them the same. We came up with a project to collectivize flashcard-making for our class and had to meet frequently to carry it out. “We’re colleagues,” my new friend said, firmly, when people asked if we were together. We discovered ethical problems with the program and protested them, formally and informally. We were accused of being too insular. We talked about our families, and they said things like: “That’s not okay, you realize that, right” and “I think if more people loved the way you do, I’d have a reason to smile in the morning.” It became normal for my eyes to be sore from crying.

Neither of us got into medical school that year. We got an apartment together after graduation, and worked together too until i was fired (I was new to challenging authority and not very subtle in my distaste for our bosses). My friend’s parents wanted them to quit too, to come home while they reapplied, but they said: “Not without Autumn.” So after some negotiating, we went to live with their folks for a while…

We’ve been together for 5 years now. At first I did the same as I’d always done, but my partner made it clear they don’t want self-abnegation from me. I started trying to have boundaries, paradoxically, to make them happy. I’ve dipped into therapy as money allows. I’ve been reading and thinking and writing. Above all, I’ve been loved.

And all this time, I’ve still been deeply ashamed. I’ve spent the last ten years in some degree of emotional pain 24/7. But somehow, two weeks ago, another thing happened that shouldn’t, and i suddenly knew that i was a human being like any other.

I still feel that I should have died when I was 20, but now it’s in the sense that people say, “You shouldn’t have survived that! What a miracle!” Still existing feels like a bonus. I might live a long time from now and i might not. Either way, I’m incredibly lucky to turn my face to the world and know that i am a creature in it, like other creatures. I am well. It’s good that I’m alive.

#by auti #hopefully this is something good for someone :)#long post #yikes i hope this isn't just me rubbing it in that i hit the jackpot #idk i feel good about it so i'm posting it #please watch dr. gabor mate btw #that's part of this #and the untamed is part of it too #i still have problems lol don't get the wrong idea #but still everything's different now #the euphoria has worn off a bit but #it's like... it's like i'm meditating all the time?#it's not painful to be present is what i mean #i have the distinct feeling of being un-nerfed #feel free to rb!#although adding commentary might be weird #still i can imagine certain kinds that might not be so. your call!

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jaerie · 5 years ago

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Alpha Seeking Alpha (E, 4k, abo) Maybe it’s taboo, but Louis can’t stop thinking about a strong alpha holding him down and filling him with a knot. Louis may be alpha himself yet there’s a corner of the internet where he can get what he wants. He finally has the courage to do it.

And the Truth Shall Set You Free (Maybe…) (E, 18k, abo) Betism: A religion based on the belief that the beta gender has been chosen by God to protect and defend the purity and dignity of the human race by resisting and condemning the lustful ways and flawed biology of the alpha and omega

Harry is a Betist and Louis is an alpha who runs with a bad crowd. This is what happens when two worlds collide.

Captain Jack (E, 32k, abo) Louis has been searching for something and Harry is there to give it to him. Drugs, sex, disappointment, and the tangled web they’ve woven that keeps them trapped in the same cycle.

Everything Comes Back To You (10k, abo) Louis was only seven when he found himself in a hospital bed alone and scared, confused about what was happening. When another little boy climbed into his bed to comfort him, Louis never thought that they would be meeting again later in life. He also never imagined that their roles would be reversed the second time around.

Everything I need I get from you (M, 10k, abo) In a world where music and sound are just as vital to health as food, Harry is stuck in a town that thinks professional music is a scam and a relationship he never wanted. One chance event changes his life.

Going Live (E, 15k) Harry has only done this cam thing a handful of times when another camboy pops in to view his stream and unintentionally stirs things up a bit.

Or Louis and Harry are both camboys for some extra cash and meet each other in an unconventional way

I’m Sure It Happens To All Alphas (E, 4k, abo) “It’s okay. I’m sure it happens to all alphas at some point,” the omega beside him said which only embarrassed him even more.

The thing was that this was not how Louis expected their first time together to play out. Especially after he’d been fantasizing about it for so long.

But let’s jump back to the beginning.

or Louis has trouble popping a knot

Just Jump (E, 10k, abo) Finally, after years of suffering alone, the insurance plan at Harry’s new job covered omega heat services. As a grown omega adult, it finally felt like the right time to try it out. And, since taking an entire week of heat leave would really put him behind at work, using a service to shorten it seemed like a responsible decision. At least that’s how he rationalized it. He was nervous about his decision but it was too late. The doorbell rang.

“Hi!” The alpha said again and Harry took the hand he offered and shook it firmly. “I’m Louis from Omega Services. It’s nice to meet you.”

20 more fics below...

Knot Safe For Work (E, 6k, abo) The world is magical, Louis is a wizard, Harry is a Were, there are spells for lube and supernatural kinks are definitely a thing.

Merry Birthday (10k, abo) Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson have unfortunate soulmarks branded onto their skin. The first words their soulmate will ever speak to them are two of the most common greetings, so common that they don’t even notice when it finally happens for real.

A Christmas soulmate AU.

OmegaVision (E, 24k, abo) Tomlin Networks Presents: OmegaVision starring Louis Tomlinson! The world’s first 24/7 reality channel available in over 150 countries worldwide following the life of the first male omega born in over a century. Follow Louis through his daily routine, the ups and downs of growing up or just leave him on for comfort. There are many reasons to tune in but, no matter what yours may be, there’s always a part of Louis that is just like you!

Or a Truman Show au that nobody asked for where Louis is Truman and Harry just wants to be his mate

Out of the Wild (E, 21.5k, abo) Louis has spent most of his life as a wolf in the wild, Harry has spent most of his life as a human in the city. Their worlds collide during the audition process for the hottest new singing competition. What happens next should have expected.

Out With The Old, In With The New (E, 7k, abo) Harry becomes the pack’s new alpha and Louis can’t wait to be bred

The Post-War BP (E, 18k, abo) The eight year war has left the country’s birthrate severely stunted with a lack of virile alphas left to bring it back up. To ensure the survival of the country, the government opens The Breeding Program where young omegas can apply to carry an alpha’s child in exchange for benefits. Louis’ family is struggling and the BP is one of the only ways to secure a roof over their heads. Harry was drafted at the age of eighteen and spent six years of his life defending a country he doesn’t recognize when he returns home. The government made the bed but it’s Harry that has to lie in it.

Restless Lane (E, 15k, abo) Louis had grown used to his boring life back in Mississippi as a stand-in father figure to his siblings. He never expected his childhood friend to show up on his lawn with the heat of summer or that he would remind Louis how much of himself he'd tucked away and neglected. He also never expected to find himself caught up in a tangled web of feelings or secrets that just might break him. Maybe he had never known Harry at all.

Save Some Luck For Me (E, 10.5k, abo) Louis arrives at the 2018 Winter Olympics to make history as the first omega to win a gold medal at the games. Harry, his oiled up crush from the Summer Olympics, just happens to show up to sabotage him, but maybe helps him win in the end.

Sisterwives (E, 33k, abo) This was it, the moment Louis had been waiting for his entire life. Giddy excitement bubbled up as he held hands and stared up at his soon-to-be alpha and husband and grinned. The ceremony was small and simple, but Louis didn’t mind. Fresh flowers pinned into his hair and a brand new outfit was all he needed to feel special in front of their few witnesses. It was just some members of his family and a few of the church elders in attendance as was customary for any marriage beyond the first wife within the faith.

First wives were the ones to have elaborate weddings with the whole community involved. An alpha’s first wedding was a celebration of an their coming of age, his first steps into fulfilling God’s prophecy. There were many glories for an omega that came with being a first wife but also many responsibilities. Louis had never aspired to be a first wife or even a second. He wasn’t experienced enough to be the leader of an alpha’s many wives and children and he didn’t think he’d be up to the task.

Louis was just fine in the position he was stepping into as the seventh.

Or Louis thinks he's getting everything he's ever dreamed of. Harry helps him find what makes him truly happy.

Stay Close, Hold Steady (E, 27k, abo) Found on the banks of the Mississippi as an toddler, Harry goes on a quest to find his biological family. Louis tries to be supportive, but maybe he just doesn’t want to be left behind.

Take What’s Mine (E, 15k, abo) Years after he is kidnapped, his life altered forever, Louis goes through the motions in a way that barely feels like living. Harry is a wild card, a forbidden fruit that Louis swore off of before he even had a chance to experience it. Maybe, in the end, Harry holds the key to being reborn. Louis just has to be open to the idea first.

Tell Me That You Want It Cause I Already Know (E, 3.8k, abo) Who knew all it would take was some good ole porn for Louis to discover his friend, Harry, is a wolf and for it to awaken an urge that would bring them together in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

Tiny Exaggeration (E, 4k, abo) Louis is frustrated that they've been dating for months and still haven't taken their relationship to the next level. Sometimes the foolishness of the past lingers in the present. Louis wants that to change.

Was It All Fake? (E, 4k, abo) Unmated omegas are second class citizens. Expected to provide for themselves yet paid so little that they often are overworked or forced to sell their bodies just to keep from starving. Louis’ luck turns around when he meets Harry, the rich heir to a fortune. After their bonding ceremony, things aren’t exactly what Louis expected.

Where Do We Go Now (E, 10k, abo) Louis goes off to college ready to start a fresh life away from the oppressive alphas of his pack. The odds aren’t in his favour when his new dorm mate turns out to be an alpha. Louis hates alphas.

The Wilds (E, 13k, abo) The creatures that Louis observed every day weren’t exactly human, but yet they were. Researchers had plucked some of them from their secluded island and transplanted them into an enclosure against their will like a bunch of zoo animals. Louis didn’t think they were. But he was only paid to do the yardwork, he didn’t have any say about the wilds that lived there. That was until an unfortunate accident changed his life forever and made one wild in particular his top priority.

Woke Up Feeling Knotty (E, 8k, abo) Beta Louis has a kink for knotting and the secret aesthetic porn blog he runs about it is more than proof. When he accidentally finds out his alpha best friend Harry is one of his biggest fans, he knows he has to come clean after everything that has already happened between them. Harry just might be willing to help him out anyway.

You Gotta Swim, Swim For Your Life

Swim When It Hurts - Part One (M, 12k, abo) Harry never thought he would find himself battling cancer. Louis never thought he would find himself so attached to one of his patients.

Swim When It Hurts - Part Two (E, 6k, abo) Harry never thought he would find himself battling cancer. Louis never thought he would find himself so attached to one of his patients. Neither one of them thought they would find love in such an unlikely place.

Swim When It Hurts - Part Three (E, 7k, abo) Harry never thought he would find himself battling cancer. Louis never thought he would find himself so attached to one of his patients. Neither one of them thought they would find love in such an unlikely place. Maybe things weren’t ideal, but finding strength in a new kind of normal together may be just what they need.

#my fics #masterpost #self rec

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fuwafuwamedb · 5 years ago

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A Cursed G Pt 27 (Gilgamesh, Enkidu, Siduri)

Previous Part: 1 - HakuPOV / GilPOV, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26

_____

The apsu were quick, quicker than usual with their speeds.

Yet still, as Gilgamesh tucked the bathed woman into his bed and glanced at the group entering his chambers, he found them to be lacking. They were too slow. They were too useless.

“My king,” Siduri pulled him away from the bed.

“I want her breathing smoothly by the time I return,” he demanded of the group. His eyes turned to Enkidu, “Stay with them and ensure that she remains alive and breathing.”

“You know I want to take care of her too,” Enkidu replied.

They should have, but they had both failed to realize that Ishtar would sink to such levels. The defecation room. Of all the places to attack someone, to sink to that kind of level and attack someone when they were relieving themselves was without a doubt the worst kind of coward.

He could feel his temper like a fire, flaring higher and higher towards the heavens. The woman at his side was remaining quiet, leading him as she was supposed to through the palace. He could see his people murmuring and hurrying to clean and do their work. The maidens of the palace were moving to greet him, being waved off.

“I want a selection of fabrics,” he informed the group. “You will all become maidens to my woman.”

They nodded, obedient as ever.

“She is this tall,” he told them, motioning to about his chest. “Brown hair, brown eyes. It gleams with bits of gold in the light. She’s small, but she has an abundant chest. Keep that in mind when you have the seamstresses called forth to the palace.”

Siduri waited, listening.

“She will awaken disoriented and her language skills for our kingdom have a hint of her mother tongue in it, but she will understand you.”

The women dispersed.

Still, Siduri remained, bowing.

“Shall we?”

“Where are we at with the preparations for me claiming Hakuno?”

“I ah…” Siduri scratched at her head a bit. “We’ve run into a problem.”

“Fix it.”

The woman spluttered. “It’s not that simple! We don’t know this woman’s background. The people don’t know who she is or where she’s from or even what she looks like! The advisors are panicking. You were gone for months, King Gilgamesh!”

“And I am back.”

“Ishtar claimed that you were dead!”

He would take care of that problem in due time too, but her words were a problem.

Gilgamesh paused in his office, looking at all the tablets that lined his desk and the walls. Countless cups on the desk said that someone had been pulling all nighters, attempting to make sense of the chaos that looked to be rampant in this room. There were soiled cloths in a bin beside the desk. The basin of water in the corner had a cloth tinged in blood.

“…Have you slept, Siduri?”

The woman froze.

“I asked if you had slept.” Gilgamesh glanced over, noting the heavy bags under her eyes and the faint traces of where she’d wiped under her nose to stop a nose bleed.

Siduri had been managing the kingdom in Enkidu and his absence.

“You need to rest.”

“My king-“

He turned her around, steering her towards his own chambers. The servants that passed were barked at for the apsu bedding. He himself grabbed blankets from a passerby bringing in fresh linen, refusing to hear anything out of the fool he was steering back to his chambers.

Siduri clambered, she begged; and, naturally, he wouldn’t hear of it. As the apsu treated Hakuno, he settled the foolish woman into a corner of his room and tucked her in.

“Rest.”

“I can’t! There’s too much to do!”

She wasn’t a good listener, was she?

“My king-“

“Would you rather rest beside Hakuno?” Gilgamseh asked, watching the woman begin to panic further. “I can have the apsu put you to sleep if that is what it takes. Enkidu and I will send them in regularly to ensure that you rest until such a time that you’re not on the brink of visiting Ereshkigal. You’ll sleep so deeply that not even the gods could awaken you, should they bother to try.”

“…I would not impose on your bed, my king.”

But she wouldn’t mind it.

Gilgamesh laughed, pulling the woman up into his arms and walking over to the bed. He tucked her in, just as he had done before and just as he had done with Hakuno. His poor attendant, flustered and burning away into nothingness out of her own embarrassment.

He would allow this.

She had done well in watching over the kingdom, from what he’d seen. There were no people stressing about the fact that he had been gone. It didn’t seem that anyone was second guessing his presence in the palace.

By her own admission, his advisors were worried, but he would quell them soon enough.

“Allow Siduri to rest once done with Hakuno,” he informed the apsu, watching the men divide and tend to the attendant now.

“Should I stay with them?” Enkidu asked.

“I need you with me.”

The apsu were bowing themselves out, thanking him for calling upon them for this opportunity. He could feel the two resting well now.

“What was wrong with Hakuno?”

“It was a magic block, in several places,” one of the apsu informed him. “Whomever got to her, managed to stop her mana and her blood from flowing freely. Had you not acted as quickly as you did, my king, you would not have her alive at this point, not with all limbs.”

One of the men faltered, shaking his head at the women in his bed.

“The woman’s mana was difficult to free. She may experience pain if she is a magic user. She will need to utilize her abilities once she has awakened. We’ll see what damage lingers.”

Lingers.

Gilgamesh waved the fool off before he bothered him further.

Hakuno wouldn’t have lingering pain.

The woman had saved his life. In return, he had been forced to do the same because of a problem he held. That was not a suitable return of favor.

“Enkidu-“

He paused, glancing back to find the being snuggling in between the two women and pulling them into their arms. The shit-eating grin had him chuckling.

“Are you planning to watch over them then?”

“It was the original plan, wasn’t it?”

“How are you going to protect them when you are half under them?”

The being snuggled both women closer, pressing their lips to Siduri’s forehead. “I’ll growl.”

The being didn’t know how to growl. They knew simply how to roar. Still, the being’s decision set him at ease. He nodded, turning away.

“There’s a fair amount of work to be done, I will have to see to it.”

He would leave the guarding to Enkidu.

Meanwhile, for him, he had a palace to attend to. The guards bowed at the entrance to his audience chamber. His advisors fell to their knees upon the site of him. Without fail, he found that the world he had been torn so viciously from had not forgotten him.

In fact, it had missed him sorely.

He dragged the advisors to the offices, assigning them piles and threatening punishment for being bothered with anything less than dire circumstances.

Gilgamesh then perched himself upon his desk, listening to the men murmur to one another and eyeing the piles that sat upon his desk.

Siduri had great organization. To a point, the most important documents always found their way to his desk and his desk alone. Eyeing the pile, he could already see the proposals, the requests for his attendance at festivals and traditional rituals. He had no doubt he would be turning kingdoms away since he had Hakuno as well.

Perhaps in a few days, he could open the pathway back to her time and allow for them to go through with the plan for the two of them.

Perhaps, but he had concerns in that regard.

The spells they had done had been directed towards Uruk, not back.

Even if Hakuno wanted to return, it would be almost impossible without great knowledge of her time. And, even then, they had no idea how the time would work. They could end up arriving before he had ever gone to Fuyuki. They could end up arriving after all of her friends were dead.

That kind of thing didn’t matter right now though.

Gilgamesh turned his attention to the top tablet, beginning to work.

The temple of Ishtar was demanding his presence a lot, it seemed.

The fools must have been informed that he was gone. Several correspondences demanded for his presence to be seen, to which Siduri had done a wonderful job imitating his indifference. Time and time again, she pointed out the futility of the traditions and the practices, citing words he had no doubt used at some point.

There were other tablets too, beseeching the temple of Ninsun to counter the other temples from interfering. His mother must have become involved in covering up his absence.

A pause at one tablet showed interest in the Ishtar priests visiting him.

Gilgamesh snapped his fingers for one of the advisors.

“Put up a divinity barrier around the palace.”

“My king?”

“Against Ishtar’s divinity, to be precise.”

The man fled, offered salvation from his paperwork.

More tablets, now on proposals, were now on his desk.

The kingdom of Ur had a young girl coming of age that would need to become accustomed to a man’s body. The kingdom of Nippur had triplets.

One look at their age had him tossing the tablet towards the window.

Bodies that young were useless for anything more than learning and partaking in selfish purpose. He had no need to be taking something younger than the number of months he had been with Hakuno.

Sunlight drifted from his office chambers as the tablets were trickling from the room. The servants of the palace were arriving now, their robes flourishing around them as they raised their hands to the wall mounts and illuminated space after space in their room. The flames flickered nicely, crackling a little as Gilgamesh paused from his work.

The food came.

He went back to work quickly after.

King.

It’s the king!

Lion king.

Gilgamesh paused from his work, frowning as he saw the beasts prowling into the room. The last of the tablets were vanishing, leaving him with the final few that the advisors had whittled the work down to. He could see the lions climbing onto his lap, nuzzling at his face and purring incessantly.

“It would seem you all know of my return.”

He listened to the purring, hearing the low murmur of voices beneath.

King.

King’s back.

Welcome back.

Room smells of female.

So the cure was not perfect for him, he guessed.

The advisors had gone. There were no guards outside his door. What’s more, the voices, far too close and intimate for anyone outside the room to fake, were no doubt from his beasts.

Ishtar had turned him into a cat.

It seems he had retained some senses from them.

Naturally, such a thing would actually be useful to him. He could keep tabs on the people in the palace due to these felines. What’s more, if they understood him, he could send them on tasks.

“Did you all see my woman?” He brushed back some manes, listening to the group grow louder in their pleasure. “She will be requiring your protections in the upcoming years. She is going to remain my female.”

The noisy bunch purred back to him.

King female.

Good smell.

Female.

Kitten.

“You are all going to be important to her. Indeed.”

Work was done.

That meant that he no longer cared about anything happening in the palace. His woman was safe. His attendant, the one he favored, was resting. Enkidu was watching them both. That left him with no bed and no plans for the time being.

That in mind, he stood up, motioning for the lions to follow him.

There was no one to stop him from the thought he’d been contemplating during the majority of his work. No one could advise him against what he could do to that fool’s people. Uruk was a kingdom that was built upon the people’s loyalty to their king. Each member within the kingdom contributed. Each person was given their due praise, as was befitting.

He walked down the steps of the ziggurat, eyeing the temple further down the streets.

There was a group in this kingdom who had done nothing to provide for these people he governed. Their actions, along with their woman whom they represented, had gone against the people’s wishes. They’d questioned his presence, knowing full well that he was in trouble.

A part of him wondered how fast he could have been retrieved had the fools acted as Uruk people.

Gilgamesh pushed the doors of Ishtar’s palace open.

“Kill the robed ones.”

The plain beasts roared forward, claws and fangs extended and glinting. The sounds of the screams echoed into the night air as Gilgamesh stood in the doorway, A few attempted to run. A few more attempted to beseech him to help them.

He raised his head up a little higher, regarding their ends.

Their blood would be on his hands, sure.

Their innocence was perhaps debatable.

However, they had known revolution would come if he was found to be gone. Siduri would not reign. Enkidu would have faltered, given that the gods were prone to ruining their lives like that. There would have been nothing and no one to help and protect his people.

The lions pattered forward, coated in red.

“You have done well,” he praised, kneeling down to stroke the beasts’ fur. “We’ll bathe you all in the canals and return to the palace.

His debt to Ishtar was returned.

She had almost killed him and Hakuno at random points.

He had managed to kill all of her priests.

Perhaps now she would learn that he had no intention of coming near her.

“Come,” he told the beasts.

The night was young enough to waste by watching the stars from his favorite gardens.

“It’s good to be back.”

#drabble #drabbles

11 notes · View notes

uberstip · 4 years ago

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The world is temporarily closed. Save it now, travel later. Kata-kata yang belakangan sering saya lihat di stories. Nabung sekarang, jalan-jalan kemudian. Mumpung vaksin belum ditemukan, tingkatkan penghasilan dan perkecil pengeluaran. Cari peluang hasilkan uang. Setelah pengobatan berhasil dan border dibuka kembali, baru deh hepi-hepi lagi.

Sekarang kita semua menghadapi realita yang sama, seperti burung dalam sangkar. Ga peduli betapa menyenangkannya nonton, nyemil, dan rebahan, kita rindu terbang bebas dan menggila di dunia baru. Selagi menunggu momen itu tiba, let’s fight a good fight, live both for now and prepare for tomorrow.

‘LET’S WATCH ‘IT’S OKAY NOT TO BE OKAY’. LET’S SUPPORT WRITER KOO MOON-YOUNG!’ Maaf, Oppa gagal fokus. Ehmm…

Menabunglah goban sehari. Maka saat usiamu 70 tahun, kamu akan memiliki cukup uang untuk pensiun dan menikmati hidup.

But for me, that’s not how life works. What’s the point to go through life with money if you feel like shit every day?

Would you rather have sex in the Maldives when you’re 70 or when you’re 30?

Enjoy our life right now, not later.

Kejar pasangan impianmu, berpegangan tanganlah, berciumanlah, tertawalah, menangislah, berlarilah dari kenyataan dan panjat tebing itu! Don’t wasting away your youth. Experience life as much as you can.

Bagaimana kisah cintamu selama pandemi?

Yang tinggal serumah, apakah mulai muncul konflik? Apakah Kadar cinta mulai berkurang karena hal-hal sepele yang menjadi besar? Perbedaan prinsip dan kepribadian yang mulai terasa? Tidak bisa terselesaikan dengan baik lalu putus? Ekonomi yang memburuk membuat kalian terjebak dalam baku hantam?

Dari yang tadinya ala ala Masimo ‘Are you lost baby girl?’ Kini menjadi ‘Get lost baby girl?’

Yang LDR, apakah banyak rindu yang tak tersalurkan? Apakah kalian saling menunggu dalam ketidakpastian? Apakah dia diam-diam main gila? Sudah jatuh tertimpa duren? Atau yang lebih parah cintamu bukan lagi cinta segitiga, tapi cinta lingkaran. Soalnya ada kamu, dia, selingkuhan pertama kedua ketiga dan keempat?

Yang jomblo, apakah jadi lebih sulit untuk berkencan dan menggauli orang baru? Apakah kerjaanmu hanya stalking instagram mantan dan sulit move on? Ataukah kamu terisolasi dan kecanduan drakor terlarang?

Bagaimana cara kalian menemukan jalan keluar di tengah peliknya situasi.

Ceritakan di komen. Oppa sebagai sarjana akan menanggapi dengan berfaedah.

How to get around Prague?

Prague merupakan kota yang nyaman untuk dilejajah dengan berjalan kaki, tempat-tempat wisatanya juga relatif dekat. Arsitektur yang cantik membuat saya lupa sudah berjalan jauh. Namun disaat lelah, public transport yang murah dan tepat waktu selalu ada di tiap penjuru.

Kereta Metro beroperasi setiap hari dari jam 5 pagi – 12 malam

Once you have purchased a ticket, it must be validated at the time of travel: insert your ticket into one of the yellow machines located at the entrance to the metro, or inside trams and buses

For travelling within the area of Prague choose a ticket for 24 CZK – 30 minutes, 32 CZK – 90 minutes , or 110 CZK – 24 hours. I bought this 1-day ticket when i have to go to Vyšehrad

Tiket untuk naik metro, tram dan bus di Praha berdasarkan waktu. Ada yang 30 menit (24 CZK) dan 90 menit (32 CZK). Selama jangka waktu tersebut, kamu bisa gonta-ganti 3 moda transportasi. Ada juga tiket full harian, 1-Day dan 3-Day.

Jika berencana sering naik angkutan umum, belilah tiket 1-Day 24 jam seharga 110 CZK. Tiketnya dijual di pusat informasi dan mesin kuning bertuliskan Jízdenky di stasiun metro, halte tram dan bus. Sebelum naik, jangan lupa memvalidasi tiket di yellow box (seperti foto saya diatas).

The vending machines accept only coins, not banknotes. Some airport and main train station are equipped with machines that accept Credit Card as well.

Do not forget to validate the ticket – Stamp in the yellow box.

Untuk info lebih lengkap, klik pragueexperience.com dan Honest Guide Youtube

Download Metro and Tram Map full HD from czech-transport.com

Sebelum membaca tulisan kali ini, ada baiknya membaca petualangan saya di Prague sebelumnya: My First Day in Prague

Bangunan gothic abad pertengahan berdiri megah diantara alun-alun luas dan berlikunya jalan berbatu. Istana dan budaya Bohemia melebur bersama shopping malls. Saya seakan berada di dalam dunia penyihir yang cantik. Once upon a time in Prague…

Berikut tempat-tempat epic yang saya kunjungi di kota penuh romansa:

1. Old Town Square

The most iconic area in Prague. The heart of the city that remained almost untouched since the 12th century

Sesuai dengan namanya ‘Old Town’, alun-alun ini dikelilingi bangunan-bangunan tua bersejarah, ada gereja Tyn dan St. Nicholas, Astronomical Clock dan Jan Hus Monument. Mungkin jika namanya ‘Young Town’, bakal banyak mama-mama muda.

Wake up before everyone else and have the city for yourself

Pagi itu ketika matahari belum beranjak tinggi, langit seakan tertutup embun. Saya menikmati kota tua dalam keheningan. Keheningan yang segera beralih menjadi pusat keramaian di siang hari.

Staroměstské náměstí

Oldest square in the historic center with 10th-century origins, site of many Gothic buildings

Staroměstské nám., 110 00 Josefov, Czechia

Direction: Google Maps Location

2. Cafe Milani

Saya mengawali hari dengan sarapan di Cafe Milani, kafe kecil yang ngangeti. Aroma kopi menguar saat saya melangkah masuk. Dengan wajah beku, saya mencari kehangatan di sofa sudut kafe.

Tak lama setelah order, perpaduan sepotong cheese cake dan seteguk hot espresso lumer di dalam mulut. Meleleh bagaikan lava yang lembut. Dari mulut mereka bercinta di perut. Sebuah kebahagiaan kecil di pagi yang sederhana.

A good day doesn’t need to be one where something big happens. It just needs to be small thing that makes you feel joyful

Cafe Milani

Cute place with good coffee and pastry selection

16/ Czech Republic, Kaprova 9, Staré Město, 110 00 Praha, Czechia

Direction: Google Maps Location

3. Apple Museum

Many of the streets of Prague are laid in cobblestone with a lot of different patterns and designs. I walk through this beautiful little streets before i found the apple museum

The museum is filled with Apple gadgets that have ever beed created from the beginning to 2012

See how the apple family grew and become the most profitable company in the history of the world!

Sebagai Apple fan boy, saya menyempatkan diri berkunjung ke Apple Museum. Museum yang menampilkan gadget Apple dari awal berdiri hingga sekarang. Dari Mac dan iPhone pertama, sampai motor BMW milik Steve Jobs.

Menengok cerita bagaimana Steve Jobs memulai Apple pertama kali. Berawal dari garasi rumahnya yang kecil, hingga kini menjadi perusahaan teknologi terkaya di dunia. Gimana gak kaya, biaya pembuatan iPhone 11 Pro per bijinya $159 dijual $1099. Margin keuntungan besar dengan produk yang sangat laris. Boom!

Being the richest man in the cemetery doesn’t matter to me. Going to bed at night saying we’ve done something wonderful, that’s what matters to me.

Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Stay hungry, stay foolish.

– Steve Jobs

Apple Museum

Museum devoted to Apple founder Steve Jobs with exhibits of computers built 1976–2012

Husova 21, 110 00 Staré Město, Czechia

Hours: Senin – Minggu 10AM – 10PM

Direction: Google Maps Location

4. Charles Bridge

It’s our last night in Europe, and I had this plan that I wanted to tell you. I’m just going to, I’m just going to tell you. MJ, I…’ ‘…am Spider-Man?’ ‘No. Of course not!’ ‘I mean it’s… kind of obvious’

– Spiderman Far from home

This 14th century stone bridge has two large towers on both sides linking Prague’s old and new towns

Legend has it that he planned out every detail of the bridge, including the 30 statues

It’s a popular pedestrian bridge lined with imposing statues

The construction of the bridge dates from Charles IV, King of Bohemia and Holy Roman Emperor. Legend has it that he planned out every detail, including the 30 statues

This is the place where Peter finally tells his secret and MJ spouting off facts about how they’d execute people on Charles Bridge and loving the Black Dahlia murder like. Awkward but really cute. Dark sense of humor on the most romantic bridge in Europe. That Peter and MJ kiss was romantic and shows how weird teenage relationships can be. And i love what she said in the end before the perfect kiss: ‘I don’t think i deserved that kind of happiness. I dont have much luck when it comes to getting close to people’.

I felt her.

Make sure to touch the statue of St. John Nepomuk. Touching the statue is a must ritual. It’s supposed to bring good luck and to ensure that you return to Prague

Karlův most

Landmark stone bridge linking Prague’s Old & New Towns, with street artists & entertainers

Karlův most, 110 00 Praha 1, Czechia

Open 24 hours

Direction: Google Maps Location

5. John Lennon Wall

Many might think of it as a simply graffiti, but it means much more than that. Toward the end of Communism in the 1980s, students started writing John Lennon lyrics on this wall as a way to air their grievances. Today, the wall represents love and peace

Di tahun 1980, para pelajar menyuarakan kegelisahan pada komunisme dengan coretan di tembok ini. Mereka menulis potongan lirik lagu The Beattles yang mewakili isi hati mereka.

Lirik lagu yang ditulis oleh sang vokalis John Lennon, yang saat itu baru saja tewas ditembak oleh fansnya sendiri. Kini, dinding grafiti ini menjadi magnet wisata yang melambangkan cinta dan perdamaian.

Imagine there’s no countries It isn’t hard to do Nothing to kill or die for And no religion too Imagine all the people Living life in peace

– Imagine, John Lennon

youtube

Lennonova zeď

Wall that, since Communist days, has been covered in graffiti, often politically focused messages

Velkopřevorské náměstí, 100 00 Praha 1, Czechia

Open 24 hours

Direction: Google Maps Location

It was an autumn morning. The loveliest season of the year. Musim dimana daun-daun berganti warna dan jatuh perlahan. Musim dimana taman publik terlihat begitu indah.

Salah satunya di area Malá Strana ini. Saya duduk sejenak di bangku taman di bawah pepohonan. Kaki yang beristirahat, pikiran yang relaks dan hati yang bersenandung.

6. Kafka Museum

The 3D Piss Sculpture, the famous statue in front of the museum. Created by David Černý, a Czech sculptor who knows how to bring quirky to life

Saya mendengar gemercik air saat berjalan mendekati museum. Tadinya saya pikir itu suara air sungai, ternyata air pipis. Pipis dari 2 patung yang pinggulnya bisa goyang-goyang sendiri. Air seninya mengalir ke dalam kolam berbentuk peta Republik Ceko. Tentunya bukan air seni asli.

Franz Kafka merupakan penulis novel paling tenar dari abad ke-20. Sayangnya semasa hidupnya, penulis yang lahir di Prague ini belum sempat menikmati ketenaran. Bahkan menjelang kematiannya, Kafka sempat meminta temannya untuk menghancurkan semua tulisannya. Tampaknya Kafka introvert sejati.

Tak mengindahkan permintaanya, sohibnya malah menerbitkan tulisannya dan memberi kredit penuh kepada Kafka. Salah satu karyanya yang paling mendunia adalah ‘The Metamorphosis’. Kini, patung dan museum yang didedikasikan untuknya, berdiri di tiap sudut kota Praha.

Di sebelah museum terdapat toko roti kecil yang unyu. Mereka menjual berbagai cookie yang terlalu menggemaskan untuk dikunyah. Dari segi rasa si biasa aja. Jadi jangan beli banyak-banyak. Cukup beli 1-2 untuk di update di instagram dan ngemil di jalan.

Muzeum Franze Kafky

Czech writer Franz Kafka’s letters, diaries & photographs are on view, along with 3-D installations

Cihelná 635, 118 00 Malá Strana, Czechia

Hours: Senin – Minggu 10AM–6PM

Direction: Google Maps Location

7. Náplavka

The city’s fairytale feel. A great view of Charles bridge with swan’s family partying on Vltava river

Embusan angin dingin menemani saya berjalan melewati jalan berbatu, menyebrangi jembatan Charles, dan menatap angsa-angsa putih di pinggir sungai. Saya seperti berada dalam kisah pengantar tidur. Zzzzz….

Fact

Swans are highly intelligent and remember who has been kind to them, or not

Naplavka

Observation deck

Malá Strana 1, 118 00 Praha 1, Czechia

Open 24 hours

Direction: Google Maps Location

A hidden gem that shows beautiful panoramic and naturalistic point on the Vltava river

Most contented-looking Swans I’ve ever seen

Saya sempat mendekati angsa putih yang cantik. Saya mengagumi keanggunannya dan mengabadikannya. Beberapa saat kemudian, entah kenapa dia memalingkan wajah dan pergi menjauh. Ditinggal pas lagi sange-sangenya memang menyedihkan.

Mungkin juga karena angsa hewan yang setia. Dari yang saya baca, jika angsa sudah bertemu jodohnya, dia akan setia seumur hidup. Ga akan gonta-ganti pasangan kecuali kekasihnya meninggal atau tidak bisa berkembang biak. Hmmm… mungkin karena itu dia menghindari Oppa.

8. St. Nicholas Church at Malá Strana

The greatest Baroque church in Prague. The carving all along the side and front of the church are quite remarkable

Gereja Barok terbesar dan terindah di Praha. Bahkan Mozart pernah main organ disini. Gereja yang didedikasikan khusus untuk St. Nicholas of Myra. Santo yang semasa hidupnya banyak melakukan mukjizat dan mencintai anak-anak. Kebiasaannya yang suka memberi hadiah, menginspirasi lahirnya nama ‘Santa Claus’. Diambil dari panggilan sayangnya ‘Saint Nick’.

The dome has a massive diameter of 20 metres, and the interior height to the top of the lantern is over 49 metres, making it the highest interior in Prague. Franz Palko painted the Celebration of the Holy Trinity on the ceiling of the dome. This is a visual masterpiece

The interior has statues and decorations in marble and gold and frescoes. On the ceiling of the ship, Jan Lukáš Kracker painted a fresco about the life of Saint Nicholas with an area of 1500 m²

Begitu masuk, dekorasi marble berlapis emas membuat saya terkesima. Langit-langit kubah setinggi 75 meter itu bersinergi dengan fresko ‘the Celebration of the Holy Trinity’. Lukisan yang menggambarkan Allah Tritunggal, Bapa Anak dan Roh Kudus merupakan 3 pribadi dalam 1 Ketuhanan.

A fresco inside the 70 metres high dome by František Xaver Palko

This visual masterpiece is located 5 minutes away from the tram stop

Kostel sv. Mikuláše

Elegant church that was started in 1745 & took 100 years & 3 generations of architects to complete

Malostranské nám., 118 00 Malá Strana, Czechia

Hours: Senin – Minggu 9AM – 5PM

Entrance Fee: 100CZK

Direction: Google Maps Location

9. Prague Castle – St. Vitus Cathedral

Berdasarkan Guinness World Records, Prague Castle merupakan istana kuno terbesar di dunia. Kastil seluas 45 hektar ini berdiri diatas bukit, melingkupi cakrawala kota. Area istana yang dulunya tempat tinggal para raja ini terdiri dari katedral, menara dan taman yang luas. Kemegahannya membuat saya bermimpi untuk menikah disini. Tolong bantu saya Bill Gates.

St. Vitus Cathedral merupakan bangunan tercantik di istana ini. Gereja sekaligus makam bagi santo Vitrus dan raja Bohemia Wenceslas. Gereja yang dibangun pada tahun 1344 ini terlihat begitu elegan. Gereja yang menjadi saksi sejarah ‘Defenestrations of Prague’.

Pada tahun 1618, massa yang muak diperintah oleh the Catholics Hapsburgs of Austria, melempar keluar gubernur kerajaan dari jendela lantai 3 setinggi 21 meter. Entah bagaimana, dia mendarat di tumpukan sampah dan selamat. Peristiwa yang menyebabkan dimulainya Perang 30 tahun.

‘This is awesome’ ujar saya setengah berbisik saat memasuki gereja yang begitu magis.

The spectacular view after climbing 287 steps to the south tower. It was completely worth it! When i reached the top, i stood in silence for a while, taking in the remarkable view

Tak hanya interior, pemandangan kota dari puncak menara juga menakjubkan. Setelah setengah bengek menaiki 287 anak tangga spiral yang sempit, saya berdiri terdiam sesaat, menikmati keindahan yang tak terbantahkan.

Pražský hrad

Vast castle complex with buildings revealing architecture from Roman-style to Gothic & 20th century

Free Admission but you will have to pay 150 CZK if you want to get to the tower. The entrance to the tower is outside of the building and around the side from the main entrance. Purchase tower tickets at the entrance to the tower.

Hradčany, 119 08 Prague 1, Czechia

Direction: Exit from Malostranska Metro Google Maps Location

The castle, which lords over the city, consists of multiple sections: St. Vitus Cathedral, the Old Royal Palace, The Story of Prague Castle, St. George’s Basilica, Golden Lane with Daliborka Tower, the Powder Tower, and Rosenberg Palace

10. Náměstí Míru Subway

Náměstí Míru is the most deepest station in the world. It’s located 52 metres under the ground. The longest escalators in Prague metro. Length 87,1 m, vertical distance 43 metres

Stasiun kereta bawah tanah terdalam di dunia. Saat saya turun dan naik eskalatornya berasa lama banget.

Beautiful architecture of the metro station

Náměstí Míru

The deepest metro station with the longest escalator in Prague

Vinohrady, 120 00 Prague 2, Czechia

Direction: Google Maps Location

11. Vyšehrad

Vyšehrad was settled in the mid-10th century, and was even the seat of the first king of Bohemia. This area offers good upriver views of the city. It’s beautiful!

Menjelang senja, saya mampir ke Vysehrad. Karena terletak di bagian selatan Praha, sekitar 20 menit dari pusat kota, saya naik tram untuk mencapai istana raja abad ke-10 ini. Karena jauh dari pusat keramaian, area istana ini terasa begitu damai. Seperti tak ada tanda-tanda kehidupan.

Prague’s oldest surviving building, the Rotunda of St. Martin

Bangunan-bangunannya juga terpelihara dengan baik. Yang paling keren, dari sini saya bisa melihat pemandangan kota yang surreal. Dengan mata yang berkaca-kaca, tanpa sadar mulut saya menganga ‘whoaaaa’ dan jiwa saya melakukan standing applause.

Vyšehrad

Fortified castle with a museum, hidden passages, large grounds & remains of a medieval basilica

V Pevnosti 159/5b, 128 00 Praha 2-Vyšehrad, Czechia

Direction: Google Maps Location

12. Vyšehrad Cemetery

The most beautiful cemetery i’ve been visit so far. The amazing headstones and sculptures are stunning. The bright memory of people who have contributed to their country

Selama di Prague, jalan-jalan kemana aja?

Ke kuburan.

Hah?! Jauh-jauh ke Praha kok main ke kuburan?

Mungkin akan terdengar epic bila kita menceritakannya ke teman dan keluarga di rumah. Walaupun suasananya terasa gelap dan muram, namun makam ini tidak terkesan horor. Mungkin karena saya tidak datang pada jam 12 malam. Kalo datang tengah malam, mungkin saya akan ‘dugem’ – duduk gemetar.

The final resting place of some of the most famous Czechs throughout modern history, including that of Antonín Dvořák Tomb, the first Bohemian composer to achieve worldwide recognition, noted for turning folk material into 19th-century Romantic music

Saya berjalan diantara batu nisan yang dihiasi patung-patung bernilai seni. Memperhatikan nama-nama yang terukir disana. Nama dari tokoh-tokoh penting dalam sejarah Ceko. Diantaranya adalah komposer klasik Antonín Dvořák dan Bedrich Smetana, penyanyi opera Ema Destinnova, serta penulis Svatopluk Cech.

hřbitov Vyšehrad

Graveyard with the 19th-century Slavin tomb, holding the remains of renowned artists & musicians

K Rotundě, Vyšehrad, Praha 2, Czechia

Free Entrance

Direction: Google Maps Location

13. Saint Peter and Paul Basilica

The church is the center point of Vysehrad. This lovely old cathedral is like a mini version of St. Vitus. Even though it’s not small at all. Its 58 meters high twin towers can be seen along the Vltava River in central Prague

Suara lonceng yang berdentang menyambut kedatangan Oppa. Sebenarnya, bukan karena Oppa juga. Melainkan memang tiap jamnya lonceng di gereja ini berbunyi.

Bangunan gereja bergaya gothic ini mengingatkan saya akan castle terkutuk Moon Young. Semua terkesan gelap dan misterius.

Gereja ini didirikan pada tahun 1070-1080 oleh Raja Ceko Vratislav II. Bayangkan betapa tuanya gereja ini. Di tahun tersebut, bisa dipastikan bahwa embrio saya belum terbentuk.

The interior is richly decorated with Art Nouveau ornamental and figural wall paintings. The church’s treasury houses an exhibition of jewellery and rare textiles from the Vyšehrad Chapter

A wonderful art nouveau paintings

The stained glass windows and statues are explaining the suffering and glorification of Christ

The atmosphere of silence and prayer

Saat masuk, saya menatap kagum pada lukisan-lukisan bergaya art noveau yang menghiasi dinding gereja. Semua lukisan, detail kaca patri dan patung-patung seni yang ada disini menggambarkan tentang penderitaan dan kemuliaan Yesus di kayu salib.

Bazilika svatého Petra a Pavla

Neo-Gothic church featuring elaborate frescoes, carvings & mosaics inside

Štulcova, 128 00 Praha 2-Vyšehrad, Czechia

Hours: Senin – Minggu 10AM–5PM

Entrance Fee: 50 CZK | Rp. 33,000

Direction: Google Maps Location

14. Franz Kafka Metallic Sculpture

The moving art: the Head of Franz Kafka. This futuristic silver sculpture depicts writer as his head turns outside the Quadrio shopping mall

Patung logam berwajah Kafka karya seniman kontroversial, David Cerny. Wajah besar seberat 39 ton dan setinggi 11 meter ini dirancang dengan 42 lapisan mesin yang bisa memutar.

Franz Kafka – Otočná hlava

In honor of Prague’s renowned author, Franz Kafka, this metallic sculpture is constantly changing.

Direction: Národní třída metro station

15. Dancing House

Dancing House, aka Fred and Ginger. The location of the famous buildings is of historical significance. An old house on this corner was bombed in 1945, until a Dutch insurance company Nationale-Nederlanden purchased the lot and commissioned the the Czech architect Vlado Milunić to design a new house with an unlimited budget

Gedung yang terlihat hidup seperti sedang berdansa. Pada tahun 1945, tempat berdirinya ‘rumah goyang’ ini dulunya pernah hancur karena di bom. Sampai akhirnya di tahun 1960, perusahaan asuransi asal Belanda membeli tanah ini dan menugaskan arsitek Vlado Milunić untuk merancang bangunan baru yang artistik.

Tančící dům

Curving modern office block by architect Frank Gehry, with top-floor restaurant offering city views

Jiráskovo nám. 1981/6, 120 00 Nové Město, Czechia

Direction: Google Maps Location

Pekatnya malam di Prague, terasa makin dingin. Lampu jalan yang bersinar kuning, memantul indah bersama sungai Vltava. Saat saya berjalan di tepi sungai, tiba-tiba gerimis menyapa. Kemudian terlihat sepasang kekasih saling berbagi payung.

Sambil berjalan, saya melihat mereka mendekap satu sama lain. Dengki perlahan menyeruak. Ingin rasanya Oppa mendekati mereka dan berkata:

‘Halah, bentar lagi juga putus!’

Namun, niatan jahat itu oppa urungkan.

Oppa hanya bisa berlari menerjang menembus hujan, meninggalkan mereka berdua dalam keheningan.

Miris.

I wish i had someone to write stories with happy endings that night, to sing a song that would put us a sleep together.

But no, there’s no romance in the most romantic city in the world

Memorable day in Prague. Top 15 things to do The world is temporarily closed. Save it now, travel later. Kata-kata yang belakangan sering saya lihat di…

#Charles Bridge #Czech #Europe #John Lennon Wall #Naplavka #St. Nicholas Church #St. Vitus Cathedral #Top things to do in Prague #travel #Trip #Vysehrad

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okaybutlikeimagine · 5 years ago

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Get Your Feet to the Floor

(A fic that takes place the day before Season 2 starts, where Billy gets picked up by Hop for the first time and Hop sees Billy is clearly hurt and decides he can’t leave this boy on the street or in the drunk tank... so he takes him home.)

(catch it on AO3 here)

Word Count: 8,975

The first time Billy got pulled over in Hawkins, he’d only been there for a day.

He was red and angry and near sweating, mentally kicking himself and wishing he could leave his body to physically punch himself in the face for even thinking that things would be different here. That moving house would change the mind of the monster he has to legally say he’s related to by blood.

He hated everything about Hawkins, Indiana, and it had barely been over 24 hours for him to come to that conclusion. Then again, it had barely been over 24 hours for Neil to call him a “disgrace” and a “worthless bastard” who “wouldn’t know the meaning of respect if it hit him in the face”.

And Billy has to think that might be true. Billy has been hit in the face with a lot in the past 5 years. Rage, depression, irritation- all poorly mislabeled as “discipline” until it seemed to not matter exactly what it was for as long as it landed and shut him up. He definitely wouldn’t say any of those things were respect, and if they were, he thinks it would feel a hell of a lot like the back of Neil’s hand; so much so that he might definitely mistake it as such.

So when he got shoved into the wall for saying he was too tired to check something for Neil after a long day of moving, he got into his Camaro and tore through the streets. He set out to find some nice, quiet, straightaway roads that would be good for speeding down while blasting Zeppelin. He took a second to wonder how many cops the shithole of a town had and how often they patrolled.

He found out pretty quickly.

About 10 minutes into his drive, he got pulled over. Seemed like he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He briefly thought about running him out, then thought better of it. Didn’t wanna make that much of a fuss on his first day here.

The cop was young. Curly hair. Had glasses that made him look like a nerd and a moustache that made him look almost like a perv that belonged in a porno, but overall…. Handsome.

Billy mentally kicked himself in the throat for the thought. Knew he had to be real careful about shit like that in the small town of Bumfuck, Indiana. Brief thoughts flashed through his mind that they might still tar and feather homos out here. Might send him out of town on a rail or some shit.

That didn’t keep him from batting his eyelashes up at the officer, though. Not when he saw the man stumbling over himself to ask the boy if he knew he was speeding.

No shit, Sherlock.

“Sorry Officer.” Billy made a show of leaning his elbow on the rolled down window. He kept his voice sweet and sickly. “See, I’m new in town and I’m not used to the speed limits yet.”

“Can’t read the sign?”

“Didn’t see one.”

“Well, yeah, guess when you’re going 85 you’re not gonna be able to read a traffic sign.”

Billy chuckled. Makes it sound amused and coy. Laid it on thick. Didn’t feel that sick about it, really, because the cop really was handsome. Didn’t seem to be the brightest in the bunch, but he was nice to look at. Billy only did just enough to hopefully confuse the cop into letting him go with a warning.

It worked.

But now it’s Sunday night, the night before Billy and Max’s first day at Hellhole’s fine schools, and Billy is getting pulled over again. The second he sees the lights on behind him, he gets foolishly excited. Thinks maybe the young Porno-stache cop is here again for Billy to pout at.

He’s drunk. Real drunk. Not hammered, but definitely drunk enough to swerve around as he drives too fast while listening to Judas Priest.

He had stolen some booze from Neil after the asshole had been a dick to him at the dinner table. He downed more than half of the bottle of whiskey before Neil caught him.

And being drunk makes him loose. Makes him flirty. Makes him forget where the fuck he is. So he thinks maybe he’ll get another crack at flirting up at the cop with the pretty face. It’s a small town, it’s not idiotic to think that it’s the same cop on the same road around the same time of night. There can’t be that many officers patrolling the tiny, silent roads of Hawkins. And Billy is definitely drunk enough to be foolish enough to want to bat his eyelashes at a man with a nice jaw and a bumbling personality.

The idea of outrunning him crosses his mind again. He already took his warning and if it’s the same cop, he doesn’t know if his flirting will be able to get him out of a night in the drunk tank, or worse, out of getting his car impounded. Then again, Neil had been pretty damn red when he threw Billy out the door, muttering darkly that he was still expected to come pick Max up for their first day of school tomorrow. Maybe a night in the drunk tank isn’t the worst bet to take.

He pulls over with a little more difficulty than he was expecting. The roads here in the backstreets of this stupid town aren’t paved like they are back in San Diego.

And when Billy turns off the blasting screams of the music pumping through his Camaro, he’s pitched dangerously into a deafening silence. Even with the bugs screeching in the night, the sudden quiet is overwhelming. He glances in his rearview mirror, stupidly wondering if he’s “presentable” enough to flirt with the cop when he takes note of the bruise blooming on his face. It looks like his skin was split on his cheekbone, if the red rawness of it is anything to go by. He looks away in a wave of shame that makes him ill and takes note of the bruises in the shapes of fingerprints on his arms. He curses Neil under his breath- not for the first time.

Damn, Neil. Fuck Neil.

He had been sloppy. He left signs that were visible. And Billy wasn’t kidding himself, the monster left some non-visible signs as well, but these were just stupid. Idiotic. He had school tomorrow and he was going to go in looking like he had already been in a damn fight. Neil usually never slipped up like this.

But maybe that was the point of it tonight. Once Neil noticed his whiskey missing, he marched himself into Billy’s room to find him looking in the mirror. In the mix of the grabbing and the shoving and the backhand to the face, he had called him queer. A self-centered little shit who liked his face too much. An asshole of a pansy who made out with his mirror every day instead of doing things that were actually useful, actually important, actually worthwhile. He shoved him out of the house and spit in his direction and, after his threat about how he “better be back in the morning for Max”, he stalked back into the house muttering about him being an egotistical homo.

It’s then that a loud sound comes from above him, and Billy jumps up and jerks left to see the source is the large hand of a cop who is definitely not young Porn-stache guy. This cop has a tan outfit and he’s built like a tank and his face is anything but bumbling. He means business. Billy feels stupid for feeling scared. But after the night he’s had, he almost wants to cut himself slack for shrinking a bit in the dominating presence.

He cranks his window down.

“G’evening, Officer.” Billy slurs. He feels stupid.

“Chief.” The man growls back.

Billy briefly wonders what he even did to deserve this man being so red-faced and huffy in his direction. He’s just a little tipsy going too fast down a deserted road. This is the smallest town Billy has ever been in and it’s located in the middle of fucking nowhere, he’s sure this isn’t the first time the damn “Chief” has caught a dumb teenager doing exactly what he was doing. Then again, Billy wonders why he even expects anything good from a cop.

“Do you know how fast you were going?” His voice is gruff. Irritated. Maybe even angered.

Billy feels rebellion boil inside of him.

“I feel like you’re gonna give me the answer to that.”

“Too fast.” Mr. Chief grinds out.

“I’m not surprised, considering I don’t think I’d have the honor of your company if it was anything less than too fast.”

It’s a level of sass that would get him slapped faster than lightning at home. A sick and twisted and fleeting part of him expects to get slapped right now. A tinier part almost hopes for it. It’s the only damn consistent thing in his life right now: bitch and then get hit. The consistency feels secure in his frightened, too fast world. Reminds him he’s a physical entity in a very real space instead of an intangible thought in a sea of memories now flavored like nightmares.

When Billy is able to focus again, he sees Mr. Chief isn’t happy. Billy would flirt if he wasn’t near shaking.

“Get out of the car.” It’s low and angry.

“Thanks for the offer but don’t think I wanna do that right now. .”

He doesn’t wanna get into the light and let this man see the state he’s in. He knows he already looks like a jackass hoodlum who drives too fast and “disrupts the peace” or whatever bullshit cops hurl on teens they catch being dumb, and he doesn’t want to add to the part he’s already playing. He knows this town is too small to have a police department that doesn’t talk about each and every case they encounter. There probably aren’t a hell of a lot of blue Z28 Camaros in Hellhole Hawkins, either, so Officer Porn-stache more than definitely made Mr. Chief aware of Billy’s presence.

Maybe that’s where some of this man’s anger stems. It’s been less than a week and it’s the second time he’s being pulled over. But Billy kind of feels like he should be thanked. He’s sure not a lot happens around here; he’s just making their jobs actually fit the description of one. Make them worth whatever money they’re being paid.

A large hand slams against the windowsill of Billy’s car now, and it makes him jump. He leans back instantly, turned towards the hand like it’s gonna reach for him any second. The threshold breaks. He can’t hold it in anymore. He’s shaking like the leaves on the early fall trees all around them. He feels fear pool in his eyes and he can’t make it go away. He’s breathing fast.

The cop’s face changes.

Billy is briefly aware that his current position has put him in the pool of light that the streetlamp above him is giving off. He’s sure the man sees his growing injuries on his scared shitless face.

“Just-” The Chief’s anger has shifted into something confused. Billy might be dumb enough to call it worried. His tone mirrors his face. “I just need you out of the car, kid. Need to know how drunk you are.”

“Who says I’m drunk?” Billy is stupid. Billy is supremely dumb. He shoves his heel into his foot for his words.

Mr. Chief looks disbelievingly at him.

“Just make it easier on both of us and get out of the car. I’m not here to hurt you.” He finally takes his hands off of Billy’s car, even puts them up in some kind of surrendering motion. “Just wanna get you off the street.”

Damn this man.

Billy is suddenly aware enough to take annoyance with the tone being used on him. He’s acting like some damn martyr for “saving” Billy or whatever the fuck he thinks he’s trying to do. Thinks he’s “doing his job” by getting “riff-raff” off the streets.

“Who says I’m drunk.” Billy grinds out this time. Billy’s irritated as hell this time. Billy’s the gruff and angry and threatening one this time.

“I do.” Mr. Chief is back to gruff again, too. Two can play at this game is what the response says to Billy. “I can smell the alcohol on your breath from here. Just get out of the damn car and maybe I’ll be nice.”

Billy hates it. He wonders why he even expects anything different than this from any authority figure in this goddamn country. In this goddamn world. Show him a grown man who doesn’t threaten young boys like it’s a dying art and he’ll look up towards the sky to find the flying pig.

“Get out of the car.”

“No.”

“I know this isn’t your first warning, but I’m trying to be fucking nice here and I need to get home to my daughter so-” Mr. Chief’s voice cuts off. His eyes widen, like he fucked something up. Like he broke a vase in a house that’s not his. “Just- just get out of the damn car and I won’t impound it. Might not even stick you in the drunk tank.”

And what if I was hoping for the drunk tank? Billy’s thoughts are bitter.

He sizes the man up and comes to the conclusion that he could probably drag Billy out of his car through the open window if he really wanted.

He opens the door and steps out. It’s more difficult than he thought it would be. There’s more than a ghost of pain in his ribs and abdomen as he bends over and straightens up.

“Alright.” The Chief sounds exhausted. “Billy Hargrove, right?”

Billy’s whole body tenses like a cat on edge.

“Why do you know that?”

Mr. Chief gives Billy a look like he’s a naive little boy. Billy can’t find a single thing to not hate about it.

“This is a small town, kid. You’ll figure out that means there’s not a lot to do around here but talk.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“It means a coworker of mine met your mom-”

“She’s not my fucking mother.” Billy spits. Mr. Chief jumps on it to makes amends.

“Step-mother. A few days ago in the grocery store. They got to talking about how you guys just moved in.”

“Right. And they had a little pow-wow about me?”

“She mentioned your whole family. Plus my other coworker nearly had to impound your car a few days back. Didn’t recognize you or your vehicle, neither do I, so two and two together, you’re the Hargrove kid.”

Billy is fuming. He wants to get out of here. Wants to find some place to crash for the night. He’s tired and the damn bite of the late October air is making the cut on his cheek burn and he just wants out. Wants this cop to do whatever it is he thinks he needs to do to him and just let him fucking leave.

“Whatever.” Billy is sick and tired and done. He leans against the door of his Camaro with too much visible difficulty. He feels naked with his bruises and cuts open to the air and, consequently, to Mr. Chief right in front of him.

Fuck Neil. He thought he was just hurting his ego but now he’s hurting his damn chance of lying low at all in this shithole town. He thinks he probably looks like a fucking thug.

Billy gauges the look on the Chief’s face. He’s still got that stupid concern drawn all over it. Billy’s head is spinning from the alcohol and the thought of someone worrying. He filters all of his emotions into irritation.

“Need me to strut for you or what?” Billy asks. Slurs. He’s still shaking. He’s pretty damn sure he won’t be able to walk in a straight line at this point, but for a number of reasons other than alcohol. But he’s able to take a step away from his car and holds his arms out like he’s ready for it. Ready for something.

Mr. Chief is still looking concerned. It makes Billy want to hurl. Maybe that’s the alcohol swishing inside his bruised stomach. He wants his music back to drown out his stupid thoughts that feel warm over the idea of someone caring.

Suddenly the man in front of him is eyeing him up and down. Surveying him. After a second Billy wonders if this cop is queer, too; if he’s about to make some kind of salacious proposition like those horny moms back in San Diego used to make at him when they’d catch him having a smoke outside the gym after basketball games. He figures it’d be nice to know if the cop is gay and might be willing to take a few… favors to get Billy out of a jam. It makes Billy a little sick. He doesn’t wanna do it, probably never would. Talking and thinking and acting up a big game is different than actually doing the things he thinks, but it’d still be nice to know if the cop was a perv.

But the more the cop looks, the more worry paints his face. That almost sickens Billy more than the thought of anything else.

“I-” Mr. Chief starts and stops himself. Billy spits on the ground and can’t help but wince at the pain that makes a wave through his abdomen. “Okay kid, listen to me. Give me the name and number of someone who I can call to take care of your for the night and I’ll forget about this. Understand?”

No. Billy doesn’t understand. He eyes the cop under his furrowed eyebrows and Mr. Chief sighs like he’s tired of this. Billy knows the fucking feeling.

“Just trying to get you off the street and under a roof, but I’m gonna need a name and a number.” The Chief takes a second to think about his words before he speaks again. “And I’m talking about someone who has your best interest in mind, alright kid?”

That last admission is what sends Billy spinning again. His mind is swirling away, swishing around like the liquor in his stomach as the faces of the people he knows around here come to mind, and there’s only three and they all live in the same damn house. His damn house. One of them being the damn man who kicked him the fuck out earlier tonight.

His head lurches in what feels like sickness. He’s quickly reminded of how alone he is here. He has no one. No friends around here, no fucking family to run to who will support him. He’s spiraling down into his thoughts, falling fast like he’s been flipped upside down and the earth isn’t under him anymore but instead reaching up to swallow him whole and-

“Damnit kid.”

The Chief sounds exasperated. He sighs like he’s tired and Billy is boiling.

“Excuse me, Chief. Hate to break it to you that I don’t fucking know anyone yet.” The cop grimaces when he cusses and Billy doesn’t give a single shit. “Look, just take me to the drunk tank.”

“It’s a school night.” He says it like that’s all he needs to say.

“I think I can manage.” Billy scoffs.

“I’m not putting you in the drunk tank on a school night. You need rest.”

“Yeah, and in there there’ll be a roof over my head like you so sweetly said you wanted for me, so let’s just go.” Billy gives himself a second to think. “And don’t impound my car.”

“C’mon kid, there’s no one who’ll take you in?”

“Goddamnit, you just acted like you know every fuckin’ thing about me, no. There’s no one to call. Just take me in. I’m complying aren’t I? Isn’t this like a wet dream for you pigs?”

Mr. Chief seems to be burning in irritation. Billy would get a kick out of it if he wasn’t so cold and tired. Mostly just tired, especially of this stupid conversation.

“Not home, huh?”

Billy is scowling. Hard.

Don’t know everything, do ya, Chief?

For a second, Billy thinks about telling him to drop him off at home just to be fucking done with this. He can get dropped off and then go park somewhere for the night. But that’s the issue with that: he won’t have his fucking car. There’s no way the Chief can get it to him. He’d have to walk Billy up to his house, and not only was he kicked out, but coming in with a cop? Christ… that’d make it ten times worse.

He thinks about saying a random address, but the same issue stands: he’d be sans car. And he needs to pick Max up in the morning for school or Neil will most definitely flip his shit.

So he’s silent. Stands helplessly there in front of the fucking Chief of Police of Hawkins and letting the chill of the October night scratch at him like he’s defenseless. Because he is defenseless. He has no one and nothing and he’s here, hypervisible to this fucking cop and it’s not even the cute one with the pornstache.

Mr. Chief has his hands on his hips. His foot is tapping a cadence on the ground before he shakes his head and jerks a thumb to his cruiser.

“You’re coming with me, c’mon.”

“What?”

“I said you’re coming with me.” He rubs a hand down his face like all of the bad decisions in the world have just ran through his head and he’s decided to act on all of them. “I’m taking you home.”

Billy’s blood runs cold. The October air has nothing on the chill that runs through his body immediately, like he’s been wiped out at the beach.

“No.” Billy is adamant. He reaches for the handle of his car, thinks about making a break for it and just getting in and ripping away. The Chief seems too tired to follow him out into the night.

But in the whirling of his head, he forgot that he isn’t leaning on his car anymore, but rather a few steps away from it. He stumbles back a bit, still reaching but not finding purchase. He briefly worries in his still semi-drunken state that someone swiped it from under them while they were arguing about Billy being alone.

“C’mon kid, you have to come with me.”

“No. I don’t have to fucking do anything.” Terror takes root in Billy’s bruised up chest as he makes another idiotic reach for his car. “I’d rather sleep in my car than go back home with a cop.”

Something like realization washes over the Chief’s face when Billy says that. He shakes his head, eyes looking concerned again and Billy is going to scream from all the pressure in his chest.

“Look kid-”

“No.”

“Look! Billy! I need you to know that I’m not doing this to punish you or get you into trouble or... whatever else.”

This gives Billy pause. He stops palming the air for his car, just lets his hand fall to his side. He has to think about the words and he feels stupid all over again but he really has to wonder how this man can promise not to get him into trouble when he’s the very definition of it for Billy.

Mr. Chief sighs.

“Because I know-”

Billy doesn’t let him finish his thought. Of fucking course this stupid cop thinks he knows something about Billy and his situation. Probably got hit once by his own old man when he was a teen and wanted to try badmouthing an authority figure. Probably thinks he understands crystal fucking clear. Bruises and cuts and pain and he gets it but it’ll be okay because he’s your dad and he loves you.

“No.” Billy seethes out, harsh and angry and bitter and red like Hell. Like the Devil. He feels it in his face. “You don’t know!”

He’s yelling now, swinging his hand out and wanting it to come off as a punch but it’s too slow and too clumsy in his fogged up mind and the Chief just grabs it with ease. Billy struggles immediately, his heart racing in trained fear. Very, very real fear.

“You don’t fucking know anything get the fuck off of me!” Billy screams at the Chief and into the night and the grip on his arm won’t let go. Part of his fingers are grabbing where Billy was grabbed previously. It hurts like fucking hell. The blunt pain aches through his arm.

“Billy!” The Chief yells back, like he’s a little kid acting up and maybe he looks the part- he probably looks the part- but he’s not letting this shit happen. Maybe he is still that little kid that learned to run when his father raised his hand to him. He shouldn’t be fucking faulted if he is.

The Chief is reaching his other hand to grab onto Billy’s other arm and Billy is about to start fucking kicking just to get away. Mr. Chief isn’t having it.

“I don’t know how blind and stupid you think I am, but I can promise you, you’re dead wrong!” The Chief is shouting, still reaching and grabbing and holding. “I can tell something’s not right!”

“Fuck off!”

“Goddamnit kid!”

It’s then that Billy feels the grip on his arm get tighter. Fingertips dig into hour-fresh bruises and it makes pain shoot through his arm. All of the squirming has reignited every injury to Billy’s torso. The cold of the night air has flooded Billy’s lungs and left his throat raw and scratchy and used. New bruises feel like they’re blooming under the grip of the cop.

Billy submits.

He knows where he is and what he’s facing and that he can’t run and he just… submits. He stops jerking around and stands still, letting his captured arm go limp and seethes at the pain blossoming like a fucking garden.

“Please.” He whispers, feeling weak, because he is. He’s weak and defenseless and so damn tired.

And the man on the other end of the hand on Billy’s arm seems to freeze. Billy’s looking at his boots on the ground and feels shame at being so damn weak. He’s trying to play dead like an animal in the face of a predator. This is what he has to do now.

But the Chief does the unthinkable… he loosens his grip.

He releases the pressure of his fingers and Billy shifts his eyes up to look at him through curly strands of hair.

The Chief’s face is full of shame. He’s not even trying to hide it, he looks surprised and shocked and slightly sickened by what he just did. Billy doesn’t understand it.

But he feels shame inside himself as well. It’s in his chest and projecting up onto his face, he knows it. He feels like he betrayed himself somehow, letting himself get so weak. He eyes the cop and sees the look of shame never leave.

In a split second, without any thought involved behind his action, Billy shoots his chin up and spits in the Chief’s face. The action stems from the anger and resentment boiling inside of him; through him. He’s mad and he spits because of it.

The Chief flinches. Takes the hand once gripping Billy’s arm and wipes his face.

Billy just watches, frozen in place because he can’t believe what he’s done. He should be dead, decimated on the spot for pulling a stunt like that, but the man on the receiving end of it is calm; calmer than he’s been all night. He takes a breath and gets even more collected before he looks Billy in the eye and says in a controlled and authoritative voice: “Get in the car. I’m taking you home.”

Billy doesn’t think. Feels like maybe he should start thinking right now but he can’t. He doesn’t move anything except his feet as they take him to the passenger side of the Chief’s cruiser. He climbs in without a word. The pain in his body is dulled as his mind races. The confrontation has made him so dull and nervous that he’s just numb. It takes about a minute before the Chief is in the car with him. He puts his key in the ignition and the car starts up.

They drive.

~~~

Billy should have known when Mr. Chief didn’t ask for his address that he wasn’t taking him back to Billy’s house, but in his stupor, he can’t really see or understand much of anything. It isn’t until they’re about 2/3rds of the way to their destination that Billy is even aware that he doesn’t know what that destination is.

“Where are we go-” His voice still sounds raw and used. Mr. Chief cuts him off.

“Home. My home.”

A wave of discomfort flows over Billy.

“What kind of a pervert are you?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Mr. Chief is exhausted-it’s evident in his sigh. Billy cuts him some slack for being exhausted at this point, because he is too. “You need sleep. I need sleep. You have school tomorrow. I’m just taking you home.”

Billy doesn’t understand. What kind of cop finds a kid out in the middle of nowhere, being dumb and reckless and breaking laws, pulls him over, gets spit in the face, then decides to take him home to let him rest? Even if it’s because he put 2 and 2 together about his bruises and his desperation to not go home, what kind of cop picks up misfits like this? This isn’t his job and surely he uses that line a lot. Billy’s pretty sure every cop does. He was pretty sure every cop does.

Billy is letting himself swirl away again in his thoughts. He wonders how he’s going to get back to his car, what the cop is going to do to him in the morning, if he really is queer and if Billy really should be worried.

He’s gone in his thoughts when the Chief is speaking again. He tunes back in to: “I have a daughter.”

Billy knew that. He mentioned her before. It comes out like some kind of admission of a secret, though, and that confuses Billy, like just about everything about this night.

And Billy really, truly thought he was too tired and scared to be any more of a dick, but his mind flips the switch on Dick Mode and he goes after the man. He’s irritated and freaked the fuck out and he just wants to be in his bed with no bruises and no scars and no pain and no fears. He just wants to have a fucking simple life. He doesn’t want to have to deal with any more bullshit but now he’s being taken home by a cop who’s telling him about his daughter like Billy’s trying to date the girl or some shit and Mr. Chief needs Billy to know that he has to respect her. It’s idiotic. It feels unreal. Billy is so fucking exhausted and he can’t help it when he spits out his next words.

“Good for you, Chief. If you think I’m going to take her precious virginity just know-”

“She’s thirteen!” The Chief is yelling as Billy continues with:

“I don’t even swing that way.”

The air in the car is suddenly stale. Paused. Breathless.

Billy looks over to the Chief who just has an eyebrow quirked. The words of the last 10 seconds are still tangible in the air and it makes Billy’s entire body freeze over. He just jumped into an ice bath.

In a second he’s sitting rod straight, freaked out to high hell. Probably looks like a fucking tweaker from how on edge he is. Four days into living in Hawkins and he’s fucking outed himself to the Chief of Police.

Shit.

“Don’t know why I said that…” Billy begins bumbling like an absolute moron. He used to think himself smooth but this night has been a nightmare and his head hasn’t stopped spinning since it started. “Holy fuck god fucking… fuck…. Holy shit.”

“Kid.” Billy is pretty sure he hears the Chief’s voice but Billy is reeling.

“Fuck...”

“Billy!” Mr. Chief yells, his voice sharp and unforgiving. Billy freezes as the Chief sighs again. “I don’t care what your preferences are or who you like or whatever. I just wanted you to be nice to my kid, alright? That’s all.”

Billy is still frozen. He has to process the words for a few seconds more to understand them.

He’s in shock. He gauges in a few seconds that Mr. Chief is serious about this. That he’s exasperated and actually, truly, could not give a fuck about who Billy likes. Billy’s jaw is dropped.

“And don’t cuss like that in front of her, either.” Mr. Chief adds for what seems like good measure.

Billy sits and lets the words sink in. Within a few minutes, they’re pulling up to a small cabin in the middle of the woods. When Mr. Chief parks the truck, he’s looking down at his steering wheel like it’ll give him the secrets of life.

“And…” He begins, questions in his eyes. “... don’t worry about it. It’s not mine to tell.” He looks over to Billy. “I know I just said this town talks, but it doesn’t have to. You don’t want anyone to know? I won’t say anything.”

Billy doesn’t know what to do but nod.

And after he shakes off his shock, it takes a grand total of 2 seconds before red flags are coming up left and right. It’s like he’s just realized his position: in an unknown forest with a cop he just met, in a town he’s just moved to, no home to return to for the night, no one to call but people who don’t give 2 shits about him from what he’s seen. He’s not sure where he is and this man has shown concern, sure, but he’s a fucking cop in a tiny town picking a teen up he doesn’t fucking know and taking him to his home and this? This is just weird. And sketchy. And Billy’s heart is pumping blood through his body fast as he tries to gauge how successful an escape attempt might be. He promised Billy he wouldn’t take him in. Billy can go find his Camaro and sleep there until morning.

But… he can’t. He knows he can’t. That’s maybe the scariest part of all of this is he doesn’t know where the fuck he is and he didn’t know where the fuck he was when he got pulled over and now?

Now he’s just… tired. It hits him again like a freight train. His body is going through waves of anxiety and exhaustion, cresting and crashing. He just wants to go to sleep.

But when Billy goes to open the door- not even thinking, just acting -it’s locked. Anxiety starts to swell again as he looks to the cop next to him and sees his eyes are tight. Real tight. Like he’s trying to convince himself to do something-or maybe to not do something? Billy isn’t sure. But he pulls on the handle of the door repeatedly to indicate his panic. He can’t think straight. Everything is still swirling and at this point it’s definitely more to do with the exhaustion than the alcohol.

In a second the cop seems to start up again, quickly. Like a generator. He reaches to unlock the doors and climbs out of the car immediately. Billy follows his lead.

It’s when he’s passed the cruiser and is trudging toward the cabin that he’s stopped again, large hand and hard pressure on his bare wrist.

And he’s waiting for the anxiety to well up in a crest of fear but… it doesn’t this time. It swells slightly but it crashes down just as fast, mushy and soft, like the waves in Santa Barbara would when him and his parents would take a trip up there for spring. He’s the smallest bit fearful but mostly he’s compliant. Loose in a worse way than before. Submissive due to carelessness rather than willingness.

And some part of him, the unthinking and overexerted part, is glad that he’s reached this level of uncaring. There’s no rush of anxiety begging him to flee, there’s just tired eyes connected to a tired brain that wants whatever this next argument is going to be to just be over already so he can crash on the next available surface that isn’t dirt.

“I have a daughter.” Mr. Chief says for the third time tonight.

Billy blinks slowly.

“I know, Chief. I remember.” Billy blinks again. “Do you remember when I just told you I like dick a second ago?”

Mr. Chief glares.

“I need you to understand something here, kid.” He’s threatening him again. Billy can’t find any bone in his body that cares. “This is serious shit. You-”

Mr. Chief takes a big labored breath. His hand gets a little tighter on Billy’s wrist. Billy subconsciously wriggles it in his grasp.

“Fuck…” Mr. Chief says under his breath before he’s trying again. “You can’t say anything about her to anyone, alright? Not a damn word.”

Billy feels something sick in his chest at this conversation, but it’s small and it’s quiet and he just wants to crash.

He doesn’t say anything, though. Doesn’t know what to say. He wriggles his wrist a bit more.

“Do you understand me?” Mr. Chief is asking again, gritting his teeth like an angry dog.

Billy nods.

“You have to say it.”

“Yeah, I get it, don’t say anything. Got it. Fine. Whatever.”

“Not whatever, this is serious shit, alright? You tell a single soul and I fucking find you and make you wish you couldn’t speak to begin with. This is a small town, kid, I’ll find out where you live real fast.”

And like… wow. Okay. This seems way more than a little sketchy and definitely isn’t helping Billy’s anxiety any. His mind feels like it’s swirling through the wind around them. It feels like he’s not here, like he’s in a place outside of this, like he’s in a dream state where everything is altered and intense and everlasting.

But the pressure on his wrist gets stronger and he’s too tired for this shit so his knees buckle a little and-

“Yes, I understand. I won’t say anything.”

Billy just wants his wrist to be let go. His wish gets granted by the man who is red faced and breathing a little unevenly. Billy watches him wipe his hand down his face again like his struggles are drowning him.

“You know…” Billy begins, voice uncaring as he rubs his now sore wrist. “That was pretty fucking sketchy. Don’t know if you’re aware how damning that sounded.”

“Yeah kid.” Mr. Chief’s voice is gruff, but it’s clearly from tiredness this time around. He’s got a large hand over his eyes and a grimace on his lips. “Yeah. I’m aware.”

Mr. Chief starts walking to the cabin, taking a big step over a wire that Billy doesn’t notice until the large man mentions it. Billy still can’t see it, or even process it’s existence, but he hears Mr. Chief sigh and in a few seconds there are two hands holding him and lifting him a bit, making him lighter as he steps over the thing he can still barely see. Billy doesn’t think much of the help in his state.

Mr. Chief knocks on the door in some cryptic way that Billy can’t focus on because he’s too busy paying attention to how many stars there are in the sky. He doesn’t hear the handle turn but when he turns back to the cabin, the door is open. There’s a small voice floating through the air the second they wander in.

“Late-” The voice pauses sharply and Billy sees where it’s coming from: a small, short girl with short curly hair and a large flannel that she’s swimming in. Must be her dad’s.

That’s weird.

“Who is he?” She asks, pointed and glaring at her dad in a way that matches her voice.

It’s when Billy’s places his weight oddly and his body tries to rock forward that he feels it: immense and oppressive pressure. It’s like someone has his face pressed up against a wall so he can’t move. Nothing is giving way and his anxiety starts to pick up again, even if it’s still small in his tired state.

“This is a… a friend.” The Chief is unbelievably unconvincing. “He just needs a place to stay for the night.”

The girls eyes are wide in very obvious confusion before they turn to angry slits, eyebrows knitted down over them. She’s pissed. If looks could kill, she’d probably snap someone’s arm.

“Why does he visit and not Mike?”

The Chief is back to his exhausted sighs. If someone told him this man carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, Billy might actually believe it.

“Ugh…” Chief’s eyes are screwed shut and his fingertips are pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look kid-”

“Why?”

“Because it’s… different-” Mr. Chief is proving he’s shit at explaining things.

“Why is it different?” The girl’s fists are clenched hard, knuckles white and face scowling.

“It just is, alright?” The Chief’s voice booms, vibrating Billy’s chest. The pressure on his body hasn’t ebbed. “I’ll tell you tomorrow, just… have you eaten yet?”

“Table.” The girl says by way of an answer. She points to something behind Billy and it takes all of his energy to turn and look at the small table with two TV dinners atop it.

“Alright.”

The two make no moves to do anything but share a silent staredown. There’s some kind of tension that Billy would be able to cut if he cared to notice.

Billy doesn’t care to notice.

“Is there a place I can take a piss?” Billy’s voice is loud.

The pressure on his body is gone in an instant as the young girl tilts her head in clear confusion. Mr. Chief is sighing again.

“Yeah.” Chief nods before looking to his daughter. “Eat, alright? I’ll be right there.”

The small, curly girl holds her stare on the Chief for a while longer before she trudges past Billy and sits at the table in a loud huff.

Billy watches the Chief as he leads him to the side of the cabin and pulls back a large curtain. Billy eyes it strangely as he steps into the makeshift room.

“Hey, uh… we don’t have lots of food but I can make you up something if you want.” It’s the Chief. Being nice. Concerned. Again.

Billy is too tired to be irritated.

“I already ate.” He replies immediately, turning around to see Mr. Chief has the most unconvinced look on his face. It’s the fact that it’s laced with worry that digs under Billy’s skin.

Billy rolls his eyes.

“Believe it or not, but they do still feed me at home.” He shuts the curtain quickly before he can see the Chief’s expression, just grateful that he finally gets to piss half this alcohol out.

He does his best not to look in the mirror.

When he’s drying his hands, head down at the towel, he hears the hushed whispers of Mr. Chief and his daughter.

“I told you I’ll explain tomorrow. Now please promise you’ll behave. Don’t…. Do anything. Alright? You have to promise me.”

Billy decides then that he’s not going to pretend to understand what’s happening, and he sure as hell isn’t going to go against the Chief’s wishes, even if he’s aggravatingly threatening when he describes them. This is the Chief of Police of Hawkins and even through his pitying concern, the man is hard and a little scary. Billy isn’t going to take this roof over his head tonight for granted, even if it might be getting him mixed into something he probably doesn’t want to be mixed into.

He walks slowly back into the room where the two are having dinner, but the girl is staring at Billy as soon as he’s in sight. She won’t stop staring either, eyebrows a little furrowed in some major distrust. They frame hard eyes that aren’t liable to give in easily. Billy would be lying if he said he wasn’t more than a little intimidated.

“Uh… hey.” Billy starts, uncharacteristically timid, like he’s approaching a wild animal in the woods or a stray dog in the street. “Didn’t introduce myself. Name’s Billy.”

Her stare doesn’t let up. She makes no move to speak. Where he would typically get impatient, his tiredness wins out.

“You got a name?”

The girl glares a bit longer before she finally succumbs.

“El.”

Billy nods.

“That’s a nice name.” He means it. He’s tired. He feels stupid again.

But it’s worth it because her eyebrows unfurrow and those crinkles in her face are gone and her eyes are a little wide. She blinks twice.

Billy shifts his focus.

“I never caught your name either, Chief.” Here he’s playfully rude. His tiredness can’t win out over making this large man sigh at least one more time. Billy would have to die before he stops getting a kick out of being a little bitch. “Kinda rude, now that I think about it.”

He’s smirking down at Mr. Chief, who looks like he hates the world and all of its inhabitants.

“Jim Hopper.” He says, leaning back in his seat and staring down at his now empty tray.

Mr. Chief Jim Hopper.

A few seconds go by, Billy feeling accomplished, before El is angry again.

“You lie.”

“Huh?” Chief Hopper looks like he wants to stop speaking.

“You said you’re friends.” El begins, eyes hard again. “He asks your name. You lie.”

“We just… hadn’t made it to that part of our friendship, yet.” The Chief says without making eye contact as he picks up his tray to throw away.

“What about Mike-”

“Enough about Mike, alright?”

“When?”

“Soon.”

Mr. Chief throws his tray into the trash and Billy is fully unaware of what’s happening. His brain has decided that functioning is optional.

He clears his throat.

“Hey, Chief Jim Hopper.” He has just enough energy to be a brat about how he says it. “When do I have your permission to crash on your couch?”

“Now.” Mr. Chief says gruffly, walking over to El to ask if she’s done with her tray. She gives it over. “Head to sleep, alright?” The Chief’s voice is suddenly soft; gentle and caring as he crouches down a bit to look her in the eye. She eyes him poisonously, before her scrunched up face relaxes and she nods, curls bouncing. She heads into her room and Billy hears the door close.

Billy goes to sit on the couch but the Chief gestures for him to stay standing before he pushes the couch back from its position in the middle of the room so that it’s all the way up against the front wall. Billy lets Chief Hopper give him an extra blanket and pillow. He’s quieter and slower than before, full of those concerned and surveying looks that Billy feels naked under.

“You good, bud?” Mr. Chief asks quietly.

Billy resents it. He is okay. He’s more okay here than he is at home and he hates it. This man fucking knows. He knows, somehow, that this is better than the place that’s supposed to be his to go to for comfort and support and safety. He’s better here with a stranger than with the people he’s supposed to call family and he’s pretty fuking livid about it.

“Whatcha gonna do about my car?”

Chief sighs.

“I gotta get to the station early tomorrow so I’ll drive you out there and get you to your car before you have to go to school.”

Billy doesn’t have anything to say, doesn’t wanna sound ungrateful for this for whatever reason, so he just nods. The Chief fidgets.

“Do you-uh… Do you need me to tell your dad something?”

He means well. Billy hates that he can tell that this man means well. He looks up from where he’s hunched over on the couch and sees the Chief shifting his weight on his feet. His arms are crossed too, his right hand picking at his left sleeve.

“I just need to be back to drive my step-sister to school.”

The Chief doesn’t seem too thrilled about that answer.

“Okay, but-”

“I was told to be back to pick up my step-sister.” Billy tries to make it clear, more than a little irritated that this man thinks he knows what’s happening. “Get it?”

The Chief gives a blank look for a second. He nods.

“Night.” He grunts before leaving for his own makeshift room and sitting heavily on his bed.

~~~

Billy’s attempt at sleep is nothing less than fitful.

He sits on the couch with the blanket the Chief gave him draped around his shoulders. It takes him too long to lie down and then even longer before his eyes close without force. He slips in and out of rest for a few hours. He’s so tired that his body refuses to lay down. His eyes burn.

He looks around the cabin. It’s dusty. Completely made of wood. There’s only one real room and he’s given it to his daughter, which makes sense. The Chief is snoring loudly from his bed which is about thirteen or so feet from Billy’s spot on the couch.

Most of the curtains don’t match and the patterns on them are kind of horrifically tacky. The ones that cover the large window behind him have trees and what looks like little buildings on them. Billy is sure that nothing ever gets cleaned, everything on the exposed shelving near him is haphazardly placed, the rug is fraying something awful, and he’s pretty sure the couch is covering a small exposed piece of furniture holding various records. There’s a record player behind him too. And as he looks, Billy’s heart yearns. Pines. Wants. There’s something about this place that makes him feel out of place but perfectly positioned and it’s maddening. Loses him in thought. Keeps him awake.

It’s as he’s sitting there, staring at the frayed carpet like it’s the answer to all of his grossly domestic dreams, that he sees feet. He didn’t hear the door open, but there’s 2 socked feet in his peripheral vision and he turns his head to see El, standing next to the door of her room and staring at him.

He jumps a bit, making sure to keep silent even though the Chief is snoring so loudly he’s sure nothing could wake him.

Her gaze is open and curious and unjudging. She looks him over like she’s never seen another human before. He wonders if he really looks that bad that he can’t even classify as human. Her brows furrow for a split second before she’s heading to a cupboard and pulling a large blanket out and hugging it to her chest. She pads silently over to the kitchen and grabs a glass from the side of the sink and fills it with water.

Billy watches her, confused and transfixed by the way she moves like a timid deer in the forest, thinks she’s going to head back into her room, before she comes to a stop in front of him. She stares for a second before holding the folded up blanket out to him. He allows himself to stare for a second as well before he takes it slowly.

He nods his thanks. She holds out the glass of water once the folded blanket is in his lap, and he takes that as well. He leans forward with his elbows on his knees, glass of water in both hands in front of him, and takes a sip. El doesn’t make a move to leave.

“Thanks, kid.” He mutters quietly. She gives a small smile and nods before she moves.

She sits right next to him.

It’s… strange. She seemed so angry at his presence before that Billy can’t make sense of her opting to be this close to him.

She’s shorter than him, even as he’s crouched forward a bit, so she cranes her neck just a tad to look up at him. He eyes her as he takes another sip of water.

Maybe a minute goes by, maybe two, when Billy hears it. A soft voice whispering a soft word.

“Pretty.”

He looks down at her.

“What was that?” He asks her, watching her eyes go immediately wide. A deer in headlights.

“Nothing!” She says quickly with a quick shake of her head. Her curls bounce all around her face. She stands quickly, still staring at him with wide eyes. “Sorry! Goodnight!”

And with that, she rushes off to her room, little feet pattering on the ground and door closing silently behind her.

Billy is left staring at the door, and then at the water as he nurses it before finally placing it on the ground next to him. The early light of the sunrise is just barely teasing its way over the horizon, turning the whole sky a soft fluorescent blue, before he’s actually able to fall asleep.

(once again, find it on AO3 here!)

#billy hargrove #chief jim hopper #eleven #jane hopper #el hopper #stranger things #fic #billy gets adopted #hopper is getting closer to being a good dad #for now he's just tryin his best to not be a bad person #honestly????? i think it's working #billy hopper #angst #dad jim hopper #aka hop will one day be a good dad maybe possibly probably yes

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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 5 years ago

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BFCD Reviews by Nesha: Summertime on Netflix

This is what I’m gonna do... I’ll be doing more structured reviews later and most likely liveblogging suggested stuff and tagging with “Nesha Watches (Insert Title) for all liveblog posts. For this first review, I won’t be as structured, because I didn’t really plan on reviewing, so this is basically all of my comments to friends @chenoahchantel and @daintyurbanprincess that were made whilst I was watching this show suggested to me by @rbaifzau

It didn’t take me long to be annoyed with the white boy in this show. It doesn’t take much anyways, but one episode in and I’m over him already. This dude saw her at a party, she got pushed into the pool accidentally, he gave her a dry shirt, and two minutes later tried to kiss her… TF..

Girl, this bout to be IGNANT...

Chile... She was like, "What are you doing?" And he looked surprised. Like whet. And in episode 2 after having seen her thrice and spoken to her once, he telling his best friend, "I'm pretty sure I like her a lot." I HATE stuff like this. Why did I tell old girl I'd watch this and discuss it with her? 😭

But she like him, so like??? 😭

And her daddy, who we haven't seen yet is presumably a rolling stone. Only one negro in this town and the nigga gotta be probably running around on his wife? 🙄 I'm like, OH, so the one Black man in the show gotta be a rolling stone? And even though his wife is also highly irresponsible as a parent, she's sort of made out to be the victim of his dreams. They never portray Black mothers doing things on their own as victims. That woman was messing up left and right and it's all on her husband not being there, when that's only part of the problem.

Also, if she IS the only present parent and made the decision to do that, she should be doing it instead of leaning on Summer all of the time.

And she got a close friend that have an obvious crush on her but she seems oblivious. I hate dis

This dude reminds me of Max Theriot. He always looked musty to me. 🤣🤣🤣 He look like him breaf stank. Him and Jack Griffo were working on something where they play soldiers and I absolutely said, "He still look like he stank" when I saw him on Instagram…

This is basically the same mold of dude and it looks moldy and should be tossed out. None for me, thanks.

But, there are moments in this show that's really cracking me up. 🤣🤣🤣 It's like, I feel like I should enjoy it for the messiness of it, but the main characters can be infuriating.

She called him an asshole and he said, "You don't even know me." No duh dipshit. She ain't know you when you tried to kiss her neither. NOR when you was talmbout you like her.

This girl kissing her friend!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. She's gonna hurt this boy! My Gwad. He finna be discombobulated. 😭😭😭 He all happy today and she don't even see him like that. Lordt.

He walked up and she look uncomfortable AF. Her younger sister is like, "You're being weird." 🤣🤣🤣 Even SHE hip to something. He on the beach talmbout "It's hot today, don't you think?" And took his shirt off. 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I like Summer's friends and feel bad for them because she really didn't treat them kindly. She used Edo whenever she was upset by Ale and then she just completely ditched Sofie on her birthday and didn't even text her or anything. Just had her waiting on her and didn't even apologize. Like, I love that she gets a chance to be human, but being an asshole to the people who you're supposed to be friends with is such an upsetting trope to me.

And the connection between her and Ale is so weird. He comes across as super predatory in the beginning and I don't understand why she liked him in the first place, but also whenever he does something by mistake, she is so angry at him, even though she's been just as inconsiderate when it comes to her friends.

NOW... HE HARASSING HER AT HER JOB.

WOTTICE DIS HUNNY???

Talmbout if she got a boyfriend he'll "take care of him" 😖 After she told him to leave and he said he'd wait for her outside, she asked her coworker, "What do you do to let a guy know you like him back?"

NOW, she went outside and he's there, but her friend showed up to surprise her after work. 🤣 Whoever made this HATES me

He stole a book out her locker and left a card with his phone number. How is this the start of a romance???

OH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. FRIEND IS TALKING ABOUT THE KISS...He said it was perfect........

Chile... And she don't even wanna tell their other best friend. Bruh. He said, "What we have doesn't need to be discussed." Summy PLEASE tell this young man...HE TRIED TO KISS HER AGAIN AND SHE SAID, "We just talked about last night's mistake" 😭😭😭

And she done hurt my friend this way, but she worried about Maxface because his mama can't reach him on the phone??? Girl.. go.. girl...

The gag is that she got mad at Ale because she saw him talking to his ex and she had to cover for him at work, but you've now ACTUALLY put your best friend in a bad space. And he ran into her mom and little sister and looked so uncomfortable but kept it short and sweet. These are people he loves. Idk. I feel bad for him and also like she kind of a hypocrite.

That was what REALLY bothered me. I don't expect her to be perfect, by all means. Black girls should be allowed their imperfections and their mistakes, but the fact that she knows what it's like to have the people you love be so absent and that she would treat her friends this way because of one guy who she's only known for a couple of months was disappointing for her character. She could have been written imperfectly without this glaring problem that I don't believe a real person in her position would actually have.

I think in real life, the girl who raises her sister and basically has to lift her mother up all the time would overextend herself to her friends, but instead, she just leaves them in her dust as soon as she gets some dick. 😭

He is now hanging out with her little sister. 😭😭😭She goes to school with them but she looks tiny. I'm cringing at everything.

BRUH. Like... I can't tell if they're trying to or not, but I wouldn't be surprised because he's cool with the sister too, but they've been friends a while, so I didn't think much of it until Summer hurt him.I thought she liked him earlier, so idk if he is noticing her or I just EXPECT it.

OAN, this man realized his son had a motorcycle accident on purpose and got mad instead of concerned

At one point, they say he's been riding bikes for 20 years, and whenever his father is mad that he had his accident on purpose (which I'll come back to) he says that he's never made a mistake like that, not even was he was 4, so Ale is AT LEAST 24 and she JUST turned 18. Which is WILD to me, even though at 18 I dated someone who was 23 (he was possessive and abusive, so I have a real suspicion of age gaps).

But, aside from that - she gets mad at him any time she sees him with his ex when It is perfectly fine to speak with your ex and whenever she did see them together, it was always innocent and she didn't give him a chance to explain.

But then, when he does something questionable, like whenever he tried to kiss her the first day they met, or whenever he came to her job to ask her out and she told him to leave but he said he was going to wait outside (toxic AF and presumptuous) she is fine with those things.

Now, back to Ale's accident. I really felt so bad for him whenever we discover he did this on purpose, because his father is mad, when they should be concerned. His mother says, "You could have died" and he agrees...

How did they not notice that meant that this young man was so disappointed with his life as a biker that he was literally suicidal? They just grazed past it and whenever he vanished on them, there wasn't a huge call to find him,even though he'd just admitted to purposefully filling a possibly fatal mistake.

I'm prepared for nothing but disappointment. ALL these people outta there. Ale's best friend is in love with his ex. 😭 IT'S SUMMER'S 18TH BIRTHDAY. MYNIGGA She really stood her other best friend up to go get some dick on a little ass boat

The little sister shot her shot! 😭😭😭 He told her she's like his little sister and she burnt off mad denna muffugga

This child drunk, walking down the street in the middle of the night without her glasses...

OMG AS I WAS TYPING THAT SHE GOT HIT BY A DAMN CAR

I was really upset by these things coming to light, and also whenever Blue gets hit by a car, because all of the reviews that I've seen on this site have been that it's a cute love story with likable characters, but nobody mentions the problematic content, the dark portions of the story that can be triggering - like suicide and alcohol incidents and literally seeing a young Black girl be hit and run by a car???

I wasn't prepared for that shit in a "cute love story." I think that this story is less cute and more dark than people have made it out to be, and that's one of my problems with it. It isn't marketed as a dramatic coming of age story. It's marketed as a romantic comedy, when it is more serious than that and has a lot of issues that should be considered.

The lesbian best friend is in love with her too??????????????????? I. Hate. This.

My favorite person in this whole thing is the lesbian in the background, Irene. And also Dario.

I was entertained a lot of the times. Just heavily confused because I couldn't figure out what the tone was supposed to be. 😁

In conclusion - it's maybe a dark comedy, not a cute comedy, IS a coming of age about a young Black girl who is kind of an asshole, but Black girls should be free to be assholes too. White dudes do it all the time and are valued characters. The dude is weird AF for chasing around this 17 year old girl and he's in his 20s. Idk if that's normal in Italy. It's nasty to me. Their beginning is young people foolishness and there's not much that we see their relationship built upon, but that happens, yanno. You young, tired and silly and some pushy dude makes his move whenever he see you. Slap some discount sex in a dinghy on it and you have this show. I don't recommend it, but a lot of folk loved it, so I guess it did what it meant to do.

#BFCD Reviews by Nesha #Nesha Watches Summertime with Regrets #Nesha Watches Summertime #It's just called Summertime. I watched it with regrets but #Here was my takeaway #Summer Bennati #Summertime #summertime netflix #Nesha Watches

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alternislatronemhq · 4 years ago

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Congrats, MOOKA, you have been accepted to AL for the role of ALASTOR MOODY (FC: Raul Esparza). Yessss, MOOODY. Mooka, you’ve done an excellent job of flushing out the kind of man that Alastor is and what motivates him. He’s known war and fighting his whole life being the son of two aurors and yet you also show so beautifully his capacity for real life, like friendship and laughter in the common room! I’m so excited to see you play him out in this plot! Please send in your blog (no sideblogs for first characters, please) in the next 24 hours and be sure to take a look at our new player checklist. Welcome home (once again), we’re so excited to have you join the family!

OOC

name — Mooka age — 24 pronouns — she/her timezone — PST (GMT-7) activity level — Fairly active ooc, and usually write one longer reply every other day Busy work schedule with weird hours, but more active on the weekends.

IC Overview

name — Alastor Moody faceclaim —, Raul Esparza, Craig Parkinson, Paddy Considine age — 48 gender — cis-Male, he/him sexuality — Pansexual patronus — Bison boggart — A burnt screaming corpse, the first death witnessed from the hands of the Dark Lord and his servants when he was a young Auror

IC In Depth

personality traits —

Determined: The impossible is possible. Moody believes anything can be accomplished with enough time, effort, and desire placed behind it. No corners are cut in his efforts at work, with Order missions, or ensuring the proper training of the newest recruits. One doesn’t take kindly to those who believe there is no hope in extinguishing the darkness in the world or making it a better place.

Loyal” Despite an outwardly gruff exterior, Alastor has a quick judge of character, latching quickly and deeply to those he believes he can trust. Too much of his thoughts lingering on ensuring his friends and his Aurors are safe, spending his own free time and sanity on completing

Closed off: An Auror is a dangerous job, fighting against the Dark Lord and his followers is a death sentence. The idea of being harmed or killed to leave those behind with any form of regret or sadness is something to be avoided. How can someone miss you if they never knew you in the first place? Such thoughts cause Alastor to second guess the personal relations in his life, even though he knows it’s only human to bond with others.

Paranoid: The scars of war came not only in the physical form. Already a nervous person from his youth, albeit a more healthy confliction, Alastor can never shake the feeling of being watched. Hunted. Overcautious in his personal life, not consuming foods or drink not produced in front of him to being wary of every person that appears to be moving in the same direction on the street.

character biography —

Life is dangerous Alastor, one always has to be on your toes! An afterthought of a full career for two Aurors, yet he never felt as if he was a burden. His mother had a large laugh and hummed while about the house, his father in love with her ever waking moment of the day. But they were gone often, understandably, but a child could never completely rid the selfish feeling of being left behind.

He is to be an Auror, like his parents and those before them. It’s in their blood and Alastor doesn’t shrink away from the challenge. Hogwarts is everything that was promised and more, access to so much information Moody hardly has the time to consume as much as he desires. The friends a welcomed bonus to the rigors of academia, bliss such slate nights spent rolling with laughter, the camaraderie in the Gryffindor common room after a Quidditch victory are memories he holds close and often to his chest. How young and foolish they all were.

Becoming an Auror is easy, a childhood of practice and words of those before him make the long hours and trials worth every body ache or jinxed limb. Yet the work is not as rewarding as one thought. Paperwork and a reason why things cannot be done with efficiency behind every corner. And it’s here when the reality of the depravity of wizardkind comes to light, how people treat one another purely based on their blood, yet the Ministry is slow and unable to protect their citizens while thumbs stand by idle. Of course he loves his job, loves the long hours and the small victories but Merlin! There is never enough done, a part of him lacking something in his life.

The Order of the Phoenix was something that was missing. Something that actually mattered behind and the paperwork and mundane arrests of criminals. The fire and passion in the group, borderline erotic. Yet it takes almost everything from them, the breaking of trust, the exhaustion. Alastor finds it difficult to believe it simply ends one day, refuses to believe it just ends like that. And it comes as a painful relief to know it isn’t...even if they have to do it all again so soon.

(( Of course would add Minerva details to this if accepted! Minerva/Moody is an awesome ship I haven’t thought about before! Just didn't want to be presumptuous before chatting/plotting with Minverva’s mun!

plot ideas —

+All of the Order missions! Even if they do not have a great deal of actions (ie fighting) in them I love setting up scenarios for characters to have to talk about the deeper issues that come with war! Especially when they are fighting against people they grew up with and spent years with at school. I think such great character growth comes when characters are

+Trials from the first war? I know politics are slow and corrupt especially in the HP universe, revisiting war criminals from Voldemort’s first rise and digging up otherwise buried emotions people are putting behind them. Alastor has an awful habit of being unable to forget the past.

+Auror training! Alastor is very eccentric as we know and his methods of teaching are very very unconventional. Constant vigilance would apply when Auror prospects are away from the Ministry as well! Moody would not be beyond kidnapping students from their beds and setting them off thinking they were captured by Death Eaters or some Dark creature only to be controlling the strings from behind the scenes. Of course he is also there when trainees might be struggling , offering helpful lessons or hope for the future.

+Butting heads with the younger generations. Alastor is one of the most stubborn men you will ever meet, but that doesn’t mean he’s against change. The youth are what affect the future and would love to see some younger characters butt heads with him! On the other end would love to see Moody fight with people inside the Ministry in the more law making role.

extra —

I’m keeping Alastor’s injuries concurrent from the canon at this point if that’s fine with the admins! One fake leg, magical eye and heavy scarring on his face.

#harry potter rp #hp rp #marauders era rp #marauders rp #al:accepted #alastor moody

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wistfulcynic · 5 years ago

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Osaka-shi Serenade 1 / 4

This is the most personal thing I’ve ever written. I just need to say that up front. It is personal because it is basically the story of how my husband and I met and fell in love, tweaked for Captain Swan. It... works surprisingly well, actually. I had no idea I was living in a romcom until @thisonesatellite accused me of having a “meet-cute.” But I have to admit, she has a point. It was kinda cute. It’s MUCH CUTER with Killian and Emma, though, because you know what those two are like.

I also have to accuse thank @captainsjedi and @teamhook among others for insisting that this was a good idea, and genuinely thank @distant-rose and @thisonesatellite for beta-ing like champs and the treasures they are. Also tagging @thejollyroger-writer @winterbaby89 @shireness-says @searchingwardrobes @darkcolinodonorgasm and @kmomof4 because they were foolish enough to ask for it (and also @katie-dub because she is the best). If anyone else is feeling foolish and would like a tag, please let me know.

Summary: When Emma Swan’s high school sweetheart betrays her she runs away, as far as she can get… all the way to Japan. She tells herself it’s not running, it’s an adventure, but when she meets a handsome Englishman as broken as she is, will she be brave enough to embark on a new adventure with him?

Rating: M (for later chapters)

On AO3

Part One:

She wasn’t running away.

Well okay she was technically, but she was also going on an adventure and that sounded a hell of a lot better.

Plus the fact that the interviews had been held in Boston which would normally be too far to expect her rickety Bug to travel and too expensive to get the train on her waitress income, but that they were held on a day she just happened to have plans to be in Boston anyway, catching a ride with Ruby on her annual shopping trip and spa day, well that had to be fate.

And who was she to argue with fate?

The same fate that had seen her pass the last class she needed for her BA just in time to allow her to check that final box on the application form, to qualify for the visa that she needed for the job that would take her as far away from Neal Cassidy as she could reasonably get without leaving the planet.

There weren’t English language schools on Mars or she would have fucking considered it.

But Japan was far enough really, and as she stood in the Osaka airport fighting off jet lag and trying to make sense of the signs that really may as well have been in Martian for all the help they offered her in finding where she needed to go to catch the damn bus, she wasn’t entirely certain she hadn’t landed on another planet after all.

It was all so different.

Just as she was about to give up in despair, curl up on her suitcase and take a nap in the middle of the goddamn arrivals hall she heard someone speaking her name.

“Emma Swan?”

Emma turned to see a young woman with a clipboard and an expression of polite inquiry.

“That’s me.”

The woman smiled coolly, making a decisive movement of her pen on the clipboard. “I’m Belle, I’m here to take you to the bus.”

“Oh thank God.”

Belle looked up and her smile warmed. “Yeah it can be disconcerting at first,” she said. “Don’t worry you’ll soon get used to things. We’re just waiting for one more person then we’ll head for the bus stop. Here’s your ticket. Don’t lose it.”

Emma clutched the small ticket tightly, noticing even in her highly sleep deprived state that beneath the Martian letters there was a small illustration of a bus.

Helpful, she thought.

She swayed on her feet and allowed the airport to blur around her as Belle’s voice said “Walsh Ozman?” and she vaguely noted the presence of a gangly man about her age. He gave her a once-over and a leer that she would have found inappropriate even when she hadn’t spent the past twenty four hours marinating in plane grunge, and Emma was just too tired and too overwhelmed for that kind of bullshit. She turned her back on him, picked up her suitcase, hoisted her carry-on onto her shoulder, and followed Belle out of the airport into the muggy Japanese night.

The air smelled different here, thought Emma.

The bus ride into the city was excruciatingly long, the scenery insanely confusing. All the buildings looked alike, tall and grey and adorned with balconies on every floor, their railings strewn with plants and strung with laundry, and Emma began to panic. She was a small town girl after all, despite the occasional weekend in Boston, and she’d never been in a city like this before.

What if I get lost?

She breathed deeply to calm herself and tried to focus on Belle’s words. You’ll soon get used to things. Emma hoped like hell she was right.

Walsh leaned over the back of her seat bringing his face way too close, breathing rank breath over her cheek. “So. Where you from?” he asked, in a voice she supposed he thought was sexy.

“Maine,” she said shortly, not looking at him.

“Cool,” he said. “Lobsters. I’m from Fresno. That’s in California.”

“I know.”

“Northern California,” he elaborated as though she hadn’t spoken, winking at her.

Emma ignored him, pulling her scarf up over her nose to filter out the smell of his breath and pretending to go to sleep. She imagined she didn’t smell too great either after flying across the freaking Pacific Ocean (not to mention the whole of the USA) but really you’d think the asshole could at least brush his teeth before hitting on her.

When they finally arrived at the bus terminal Emma thought she had managed to sleep a little bit. They were met by a dark-haired man who introduced himself as August and smirked as he spoke Japanese to the bus driver, and by a cheerful, petite woman with an accent Emma had never heard before who told them to call her Tink.

“Don’t ask,” she said with a laugh. “At least not yet. I’ll tell you the story someday over a beer.”

“You two are gonna be living on different subway lines,” said August, and Emma breathed a small sigh of relief. “Emma, you’re on the Sennichimae line, that’s the pink line, so you go that way.” He pointed to their left. “Tink will go with you and help you get settled in, give you your keys and everything. Walsh, you’re on the red line, Midosuji, so you come with me.”

Emma was immensely glad to find herself with Tink, who was bubbly and cheerful though sometimes Emma wasn’t entirely sure what she was saying.

“Where are you from?” she asked as they sat in the subway car, wincing a bit to herself as she repeated Walsh’s question. Without the smarmy intonation, she hoped.

“Oh, I’m a Kiwi.”

“A what?” Emma frowned at the image of Tink as a fuzzy brown fruit. Maybe exhaustion was making her hallucinate, she thought. That could happen, right?

Tink laughed. “I’m from New Zealand.”

“Oh, wow. Is it really cliché if I mention Lord of the Rings right now?”

“Yep. But don’t worry, I’m used to it.”

They got off the subway at Imazato station.

“Remember that name,” said Tink. “If you ever need to get a taxi home, don’t try to give them your address. Just tell them the name of the subway station, it’s a lot easier.” She pointed to a building across the street from the station entrance. “That one’s yours.”

Emma noted with relief that it wasn’t a skyscraper, though still far taller than any building in Storybrooke. It was also painted off white, with the balconies in red. It was pretty.

“Does every place have a balcony?” she asked Tink.

“Oh, yeah. It’s the only way to get some outside space in the city. People use them for growing pot plants, drying laundry, all sorts of things.” She led Emma into the building and pressed the button to summon the elevator. “You’re on the fifth floor, so you can walk up if you want, but…”

“Yeah,” Emma agreed. “Maybe some other time.”

“You’ve got two flatmates but they’re at work, they both work the night shift,” said Tink, opening the door. “The MM Centre is open 24 hours.”

“Yeah, they told me I’m working the 3-11 pm shift, but I was a waitress for years so I’m used to those kind of hours.”

“Mm hmm,” said Tink, but she was distracted, looking around the room. “They should have… ah yes here, they’ve left you a note. And a towel, that’s thoughtful. I suppose you didn’t bring a towel.”

“Um, no,” said Emma.

“Most of us don’t. It’s one of those things you just don’t think you’ll need. But you’ve got bedding supplied for you, a futon and some sheets.”

The apartment’s front door opened into a short hallway with the bathroom door leading off to the right and the main living space in front. The main room was sparsely furnished with a plain, worn sofa and a television sitting on a small table. A sink, refrigerator, and kitchen cabinets lined one wall and a dining table with three chairs stood along the one perpendicular to it. Emma noted to her relief that there was also a microwave. Red curtains hung at the sides of the large sliding glass door that separated the room from the balcony, and there were three other doors, also sliding ones, made of thin slats of wood that criss-crossed each other to form small window-like squares which held what looked like thick, cream-coloured paper.

Tink slid open one of the these doors and gestured to the room behind it. “This one’s yours.”

Emma’s eyes widened as she took in the room. It was small and simple, the walls a basic off-white, but it had big windows on two of its walls, a spacious looking closet behind more of the thin wooden doors, and the floor was covered with densely woven straw mats. The air inside smelled fresh and sort of grassy, like a late summer day in a hay field. It made Emma feel peaceful.

“You really lucked out with this place,” said Tink. “Really close to the station, and you’ve got tatami in all of the bedrooms. A lot of the apartments NOVA puts us in have lino floors and they are nowhere near as nice. Gross in the summer. Sticky.”

Emma nodded, wanting to ask Tink how long she’d been in Japan but when she opened her mouth all that came out was a jaw-cracking yawn.

Tink laughed. “I’ll let you settle in now and get some sleep. Here’s your starter pack.” She handed Emma a blue folder with her name on the front. “There’s instructions for how to put the futon together and also a map of the city and a subway map and directions to the Centre. You’ve got nothing scheduled for tomorrow, which is actually now today, but on Monday you need to be at the Centre at nine to start your orientation. All the info’s in the pack. Here are your keys. Any questions?”

Emma had loads, but she shook her head. They could wait.

“Cool. I’ll leave you be then. Sleep well.”

“Thanks.”

After Tink left Emma stared at the futon instructions for a solid five minutes without her brain absorbing a single molecule of the information they contained, until finally she threw them along with the rest of the orientation pack on the floor and simply unfolded the mattress, wrapped the sheet around herself and fell asleep.

——

It turned out that Belle was right. Emma did, eventually, get used to things in Japan. It took far less time than she’d feared, due at least in part to that first day when she’d woken up completely disoriented to find both her new roommates asleep and her stomach practically caving in on itself.

Reminding herself that this was an adventure and she’d sworn to be brave, she had grabbed her map and headed out into the streets of Osaka in search of food.

And gotten hopelessly lost.

The streets were a cacophony of noise and colour, honking cars and bicycle horns, bustling people, flashing neon signs. Emma tried to stay on what looked like the main road —the one with the most lanes, anyway— but as she walked along it her attention was caught by a brief flash of green in her peripheral vision, soft and natural against the dusty greys and blinding neons of the city, and on impulse she went to investigate.

Around a sharp corner and down a narrow alleyway she discovered a tiny structure she would later learn was a Shinto shrine; simple and ancient and made of wood, with a pointed roof that curved up at the ends and an ornate metal decoration at its peak, about the size of a telephone booth. Lush green grass edged with dense, thorny bushes surrounded it, bisected in one direction by a winding brook made lively by mossy stones and in the other a cobbled path leading to the shrine from the street, which crossed the brook via a tiny wooden bridge painted orangey-red.

Emma approached it with awe, wondering again if this could be a hallucination, this haven of peace in the urban chaos. The quiet was blissful after the noise of the street, and almost surreal in its contrast. She took a deep breath, inhaling the sharp, piny scent of the bushes and the fine mist of the brook and felt herself relax.

As lovely as the shrine was, though, she couldn’t eat it, as her stomach reminded her with a thunderous growl that almost echoed in the little garden. She went back over the bridge and down the path but when she emerged into the street she couldn’t remember which direction she’d come from. All the streets looked… well, not the same exactly but there were no landmarks her mind could latch onto, just a jumble of houses and signs written entirely in Japanese, and Emma realised that she had stumbled into a neighbourhood where most tourists didn’t venture.

She chose a street at random and headed down it, looking for anything that might be a restaurant or grocery store, but though she passed quite a few places that had signs hanging in front of them and wooden doors that looked like they might lead to eating establishments, she didn’t have the confidence to just push through one, in case it turned out not to be a restaurant at all. She had literally no idea of what she was looking for.

Eventually, the small street she was on intersected with a wider one and on the corner was the first thing she’d seen that was unmistakably a place to eat, if the large sign with pictures of food on it was any indication. It had a bright red awning with wisps of delicious smelling steam emanating from beneath it, out of a small kitchen area just visible behind wooden bar lined with stools, separated from it by a curtain made of clear plastic strips. Emma approached hesitantly, trying not to stare at the enormous bowls of soup and noodles that a Japanese couple were slurping enthusiastically at one end of the bar.

A man emerged through the plastic curtain and said something to her in rapid Japanese.

“Um,” stuttered Emma. “I’m sorry, I don’t…” She tried to think of a way to explain what she wanted using sign language but her frazzled brain would not cooperate.

One of the people from the end of the bar looked up, a young woman with a glossy, chin-length bob. She smiled at Emma and said something to the man from the kitchen, who nodded in response and shouted “Hai!” then disappeared, returning moments later with a steaming bowl of soup, a pair of wooden chopsticks, and a white ceramic dish containing a small towel rolled into a cylinder shape. These he placed in front of Emma, bowed to her, and left again.

“Please,” said the woman, pointing to the towel then rubbing her hands together. “Please.”

Emma picked up the towel and unfolded it. It was warm and damp and had a clean, refreshing scent. She wiped her hands with it, and then, following the woman’s mimed instructions, her face as well.

At the woman’s urging she sat and picked up the chopsticks, pulling them apart with a sharp crack and then staring at them helplessly.

The woman laughed, but it was a friendly laugh, and she held up her own chopsticks to show Emma how they should be held. After a few attempts she managed to hold them securely enough to transfer some noodles into her mouth and slurp them up, and when the broth slopped everywhere and dripped down her chin she laughed too.

Nothing had ever tasted so delicious.

The woman pointed at herself, directly at her nose. “Naoki,” she said, widening her eyes and nodding. “Naoki.”

“Uh.” Emma thought she understood, and pointed to her own nose. “Emma.”

“Em-ma,” Naoki repeated. She indicated the man sitting next to her. “Masahiro,” she said.

“Whoa, okay,” laughed Emma. “Um, Masahiro?”

“So, desu-ne!” cried Naoki, and Emma took that to mean approval.

She ate the rest of her noodles and broth messily and with relish, and when she finished she pulled a 1000 yen note from her pocket and offered it to Naoki, who firmly waved it away.

“Thank you,” said Emma, meaning it from the bottom of her heart. “Er, arrigato.”

She returned the 1000 yen to her pocket and took out the map of Osaka, frowning as she struggled to unfold it. Masahiro tugged on a corner and gestured for her to give it to him.

Emma handed over the map.

He spread it out on the bar and removed a pen from the pocket of his jacket, then appeared to think hard.

“Home,” he said finally.

“My home?” said Emma. She remembered Tink’s advice about giving the name of the subway station. “Um, Imazato? Imazato station?”

“Imazato eki,” said Masahiro. “Hai.”

He drew a large X on the map and pointed to it. “Imazato,” he said. “Imazato eki.”

“Okay,” said Emma.

Masahiro traced his pen through the confusing web of streets on the map than drew a circle.

“Koko,” he said. “Here.” He slid the map back to her and pointed down the street. “Imazato,” he said.

“Imazato that way,” said Emma. “Got it. Thank you. Thank you both.”

Naoki and Masahiro both stood, and bowed to her. She attempted a small bow herself, feeling foolish, then headed in the direction Masahiro had indicated, following the path he’d drawn on her map until she spotted the pink sign for Imazato station.

“Thank fuck,” breathed Emma in profound relief, and thank fuck she’d remembered the name of the station.

That experience taught her not to be so afraid of getting lost, or trying new things even when she had no idea what she was doing. Or asking for help. All of which she needed to do repeatedly as she settled in to her new country.

Gradually she began to adjust, to spot landmarks and develop routines, and she had begun to feel fairly sure of herself about a week and a half in when she got on the subway after her shift along with a whole crowd of other English teachers she’d yet to speak to.

The car was packed so she slid into the corner and pulled out a book, holding it in one hand while the other gripped the railing for balance. It was a good book —the latest Terry Pratchett— but before she could really get into it she was distracted by raucous laughter from a group just to her right.

“I don’t know what you’re on about, mate,” said a voice, a deep, rich one with a British accent that could curl your toes. “This is a very expensive tie. It cost a hundred yen!”

Emma looked up, trying to get a glimpse of the speaker. She was pretty sure he’d been joking —he must have been joking, even she knew 100 yen was only about a dollar, and she’d only just got here— but his tone had been very dry and also she wanted to see if his face matched his voice.

“Look,” the voice continued. “It’s 100% silk. It says so right here on the label.”

“Oh and labels never lie I suppose,” retorted another voice.

“This one better not. I paid a hundred yen for this tie, I bloody well expect silk for that price!”

Laugher rose again and as Emma watched the small group shifted and the speaker’s face came into view. She caught her breath.

“What are you alleging, exactly, Graham? That someone took a cheap polyester tie and put a ‘100% silk’ label on it?” The speaker’s eyes glinted with mischief and she was now certain he was joking.

His eyes were also really blue.

“Whoever would do such a nefarious thing?” he continued, adopting a look of angelic innocence so patently false that Emma snorted with laughter. The group turned to look at her.

“You’ll have to excuse Killian,” said the lone female among them, a young woman about Emma’s age with long, brown braids and friendly eyes. “He’s never had to own a tie before.”

“What, never?” asked Emma, as though she hadn’t just bought suits for the very first time, to meet the dress code of this job.

“Never needed one,” said Killian with a shrug. “Except for funerals, and I threw that one away.” His blue eyes clouded briefly with a flash of pain that Emma felt echo in her own soul. She knew that pain, firsthand. But it was gone almost before she could register it, replaced by the teasing glint. “So I went shopping for one the day I arrived and found these very reasonably priced one hundred percent silk ties at the hundred yen store, but Graham seems to think I’m not entering into the spirit of the dress code.”

“Look, I don’t like wearing suits any more than you do,” said Graham, in another accent Emma couldn’t quite place. She’d heard more versions of English spoken in the past ten days than she’d ever imagined existed. “But I’m prepared to put in a bit of effort.”

Emma had to admit that his effort was impressive. Graham’s suit fit him perfectly, and his shirt and tie were beautifully matched. Killian on the other hand wore a suit that even to Emma’s untrained eye was obviously made of cheaper fabric, the fit a bit awkward and the tie carelessly knotted.

“Why?” challenged Killian in a voice that aimed for casual but only reached defensive, and a tense silence fell.

“Look, mate I didn’t mean—” Graham began hesitantly, but Killian cut him off.

“It’s fine,” he said, making a short chopping motion with his hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

Emma had no time to wonder what all that could be about because the woman jumped in, trying to lighten the mood.

“Hey!” she said brightly, pointing at the subway ticket that Emma was using as a bookmark. “Is that a single day ticket?”

“Um. Yeah?”

“Why don’t you get a monthly pass? It’d save a lot of money.”

“I didn’t know I could.”

“Oh yeah! NOVA will pay for it, you just have to buy it and they’ll reimburse you. And little secret, if you put Umeda as your transfer station you can use it on all the subway lines and city trains, so you won’t have to pay for transport at all.”

“That sounds great, but I don’t really know how—”

“Oh, no worries! I have to renew mine, I can go with you! I’m Anna, by the way. I’m from Canada!” She held out her hand.

“Emma. Er, from the US.”

“Great to meet you!” Anna shook her hand energetically. “And these, as you’ve probably deduced, are Graham and Killian.”

“Yeah. Hi.” Emma smiled at the men, who nodded.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea! We’re going to Nara this weekend with a Japanese friend of mine. Why don’t you come too! We can meet early and get your monthly pass before we leave!”

Emma was beginning to wonder if Anna was able to speak without exclamation points. It was a bit intense. But she couldn’t help liking the bubbly Canadian and Graham and Killian were both smiling at her, and she had promised herself to be brave.

“Okay,” she said. “Sounds like fun.”

——

It was fun. In addition to Anna, Graham, and Killian there was Anna’s friend Kayoko and two other teachers, one a round young man who informed Emma she would have to call him Smee.

“Because my name is William, but he’s named Will,” he explained. “So. To avoid confusion, you know.”

He turned out to be a short, very talkative man with an accent Killian insisted was also English, though it didn’t sound much like his own.

“Will’s from London,” said Killian apologetically as they left Nara train station and headed out into streets that were noticeably less crowded than those in Osaka. “I’m afraid he doesn’t know any better.”

“And where are you from?”

“Somerset.” At her blank look, he elaborated. “It’s in the West Country— southwest England. Pirate country.”

“Pirate country?”

“Aye, lass,” he said in an exaggerated pirate voice. “Pirate country, arrrr!”

She laughed. “You’re making that up.”

“Would I?”

“Yes.” She’d only known him a few days but she was absolutely certain he would.

“Okay, maybe I would, but I promise you this is a real thing. The pirate accent is from Bristol, and Bristol is in Somerset, or at least it was. Don’t mock my heritage, love.”

“I wasn’t—” she began indignantly, then caught the twinkle in his eyes. “Hmmph,” she huffed, trying not to smile. “I’m not your love.”

“Pity,” said Killian, holding her gaze for a breathless moment and then Graham called his name and he turned away.

They made their way slowly towards Tōdai-ji temple, along the wide paved pathway that cut through the grassy and tree-lined field called Nara Park, where dozens of small deer frolicked in the grass.

“Oh, look!” cried Emma.

“Yes,” said Kayoko. “Famous deer. You want to feed them?”

“Can I?”

“Many people do.” Kayoko led them to a wooden stall along the path where they each bought a bag of round wafer-like discs which they cautiously offered to the deer who came running up to greet them.

“They like the food,” Kayoko informed them. “But they bite.”

“Mind your fingers,” murmured Killian in Emma’s ear.

Emma held out a disc to one deer, who ate it politely.

“They don’t seem that— oh!” Emma jumped as another deer barged past the first and butted her hand with its nose. “Okay.” She took out another wafer and offered it to the second deer, and then a third, and before she knew it she was surrounded by a crowd of furry brown faces and out of food.

“I don’t have any more,” she informed them, holding up her empty hands, but the deer butted their noses against her pockets and her bag, and she was beginning to wonder if they might actually attack her when a large, warm hand enveloped hers.

“Come on, lass,” said Killian, amusement in his voice. “Let’s make a run for it.” He pulled her through the crowd of deer and and together they dashed back to the pathway, laughing breathlessly.

“Thanks,” said Emma. “I was starting to fear for my life.”

“Aye, me too.”

He let go of her hand but the electric tingle of his touch remained, buzzing across the skin of her palm. She looked up to find him watching her with a slightly dazed expression. Then he blinked, and smiled his flirtatious smile.

“Shall we go see this temple, then, love?”

“Still not your love,” said Emma, still breathless. “But yeah, let’s go.”

As they walked the group mixed and mingled and Emma learned that all of them had been on the same two planes and had arrived together in Japan a month ago in the same “wave.”

“And we’ve sort of hung out together ever since,” said Anna. “Who was in your wave?”

“I’m not sure I had one.”

“Didn’t anyone else start along with you?”

“There was only one other person when I got here, this guy Walsh.”

“Oh. I think I’ve met him. Ew.”

“Ew is the word.”

“But you didn’t have a group or anything? No group meeting the first night you arrived?”

“No. They took me straight to my apartment the first night and I fell asleep.”

“Huh, no wonder you didn’t know about the monthly pass. That’s kinda weird. I don’t know anyone else without a group.”

Typical, thought Emma. I’m alone even when I’m not supposed to be.

Anna caught the expression on her face and looped their arms together, giving her a bright smile. “It’s probably just because you started so late in the year,” she said. “But never mind, you’ve got us now. We’ll take you under our wing, little chickadee.” She laughed and Emma joined in, unable to resist. Anna was weird, but it was a nice weird.

Kayoko turned out to be an amazing tour guide. Her English was a bit stilted but she had immense knowledge of Japanese history and culture. Tōdai-ji, she explained, was an old Buddhist temple, still in use, and inside it was the world’s largest bronze statue of Buddha. The group listened attentively as she spoke and took pictures of everything she pointed out and Emma actually spotted Killian round the side of the Buddha with a tiny notebook and pen, scribbling rapidly.

“Are you taking notes?” she asked, amused.

“No.” He quickly stuffed the notebook into his jacket pocket. His off-duty clothes were a vast improvement on his work clothes, she thought. Jeans that hugged his ass and a t-shirt that skimmed his torso and a leather jacket that moulded to his shoulders. Chin unshaved, hair messy. He looked damned good.

He also looked embarrassed.

“You were, weren’t you?” she pressed.

“I wasn’t—”

“Let me see that notebook, then.”

“No.”

“Because you were using it to take notes.”

“Look, if I admit I was taking notes will you let it drop?” The tips of his ears were pink and he was rubbing nervously at a spot behind the right one, his expression anxious. Emma felt a stab of guilt. She’d thought they were just joking around.

“Of course.” She took a step back. “I’m sorry.”

Killian shrugged, burying his hands in his jeans pockets. “It’s all right, lass. I just— the notebook is something I don’t really want to talk about just yet is all.”

He looked vulnerable without his cocky, flirty grin, vulnerable and a bit lost. She felt the weirdest urge to touch him, to take his hand again, to see if the electricity that still tingled on her palm would reignite.

“Okay,” she told him. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

His worried expression melted into a bright smile with no teasing twinkle, just warmth softening the blue of his eyes as he held her gaze.

“Emma! Killian!” Anna’s voice rang out through the hush in the temple, followed quickly by the woman herself. “Kayoko says there’s a good restaurant nearby, do you want to go get some lunch?”

“Sure.” Emma forced herself to turn and nod at Anna though her heart was thundering.

“Sounds lovely, lass,” said Killian, his eyes still on Emma.

Anna’s lively smile slipped as her eyes darted between them but she quickly fixed it back in place. “Well come on!” she cried and after some slightly embarrassed shuffling Emma and Killian followed her.

—

Killian sat next to Emma in the restaurant, casually, elbowing her as she sipped her miso soup.

“So what to you reckon to this Japanese food, then, love?” he asked.

“I like it,” said Emma. “I don’t know what it is I’m eating half the time, but it’s all been amazing.”

Killian laughed. “I know what you mean,” he said. “Have you tried takoyaki yet?”

“No, what’s that?”

“Oh, you’ve got to try takoyaki!” cried Anna from across the table. “They sell them in the park in front of Osaka Castle, we should go!”

“Okay,” laughed Emma. “But what are they?”

“Octopus balls,” said Smee, and the whole table sniggered.

“Okay what am I missing?” demanded Emma.

“Takoyaki are octopus tentacles,” explained Killian. “Cooked in batter in this special mould that forms them into ball shapes. It’s an Osaka specialty.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. They love their octopus balls here, right Kayoko?”

“Takoyaki is very popular food.” Kayoko confirmed. “Very traditional.”

“Everyone loves a good octopus ball, mate!” said Will, winking at her.

“Well, all right,” said Emma, reminding herself that she was here to try new things. “It can’t hurt to try.”

—

The takoyaki was disgusting. Emma spit it into her napkin and the look on her face had Killian doubled over in laughter.

“Ugh,” she said, “No. The taste isn’t bad but you can feel the tentacles on your tongue, with those little suckers…” she trailed off with a shiver of horror. “Not for me.”

Killian took the oblong wooden bowl containing her five remaining takoyaki and poked one with his toothpick. “I love them,” he said, popping it in his mouth. “Mmmmm.” He chewed with exaggerated relish. “Tentacles. Delicious.”

Emma made dramatic gagging noises and Killian nearly spit out his own mouthful when he started laughing again, so loudly that the other people visiting the castle turned to stare.

Osaka Castle rose up behind them where they stood on the dusty gravel path that led to its main entrance, bright white in the slanting light of the early December afternoon, the gilt decoration along its swooping green roofs glinting in the sun. Emma couldn’t believe it was December already; the week since their trip to Nara had flown by, though not a day of it had passed without some small flirtation between her and Killian. A wink, a teasing remark, a shared sip of vending-machine coffee or a bite of a mochi sweet. Something was brewing between them, and though it was still far too early to say what exactly, whatever it was had butterflies dancing in Emma’s belly whenever she saw him.

Anna, who had been sharing her bowl of takoyaki with Smee, watched them with her habitual smile a bit strained around the edges.

“Don’t you like it, Emma?” she asked, and the edge in her tone had Emma looking at her in surprise.

“Nope,” she confirmed. “Definitely not my thing.”

“More for me,” said Killian cheerfully as he polished off another. “Next we’ll try you on sushi, see how that goes. What do you say, love?” His grin was warm, his eyes glinting with a flirtatious challenge that Emma could not resist.

“Sure why not,” she replied, looking at him through her lashes with a smile that was decidedly coy. “I’ll try anything once.”

Killian’s eyes went wide and Anna’s smile grew a bit more strained.

“Anything?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow coolly though there was a faint flush across his cheekbones.

“Anything.”

Killian cleared his throat. “Good to know,” he said.

Anna stabbed the last takoyaki in her bowl and chomped it forcefully.

When they had finished eating the four of them took a walk around the castle before heading back to the subway station.

Emma fell into step with Anna as they walked. “Hey,” she said, bumping the other woman’s shoulder in a way she hoped was friendly. Aside from Ruby she didn’t have a lot of female friends, and this was slightly new territory for her. “Is everything okay?”

“Sure! Fine!” Anna replied brightly. “Why do you ask?”

“You just seemed… a bit off, I guess.”

“Well, I’m not,” said Anna, but the edge in her voice was back. “Just… don’t push anything with Killian okay?”

“What?” Emma gaped at her. “What are you talking about?”

Anna shook her head. “Nothing. It’s— it’s nothing. Never mind.”

She moved ahead to walk with Smee, leaving Emma frowning in bafflement behind her.

—

Takoyaki may have been a disaster for Emma but sushi was a triumph. Three days after their trip to the castle she, Killian, and Smee went for lunch at a tiny restaurant tucked away in the famous covered shopping street of Shinsaibashi-suji, beneath a flashing neon sign in the shape of a sinuous dragon.

The sushi was made fresh in a kitchen on the left side of the restaurant, and served on little plates that moved around the room on a conveyor belt, going in and out of the kitchen area through a curtain made of plastic strips exactly like the one Emma had seen at the ramen place her first day in Japan.

550 yen (700 for the men) bought as much sushi as the luncher could eat plus miso soup and a drink. NOVA teachers had an unofficial running competition over how many plates they could eat in one sitting, though not one of them had yet managed to match the old Japanese men who could frequently be found sitting in the corner eating sushi for hours on end, their stacks of plates growing so high they had to be cleared away lest they topple over.

Emma tried the salmon and the tuna, and the whitefish and the rolled omelet and even the eel.

She did not try the octopus.

“Can’t tempt you, love?” teased Killian, waving a crinkle-edged piece of sushi in front of her nose.

“I can see the suckers from here,” said Emma. “They are no less horrifying for being sliced thinly.”

Killian chuckled and ate the sushi with a hum of enjoyment. Emma smiled as she watched him. He was wearing another of his awkward suits and cheap ties since they had to head to work as soon as lunch was over. He was freshly shaven, too, which made her a bit sad, but the dress code at their job was a rigid one.

They worked at the NOVA Education Group’s Multi-Media Centre, which was an enormous concern spread over three floors of a thirty storey building. Each day they arrived on the fourteenth floor where they clocked in using paper punch cards and swapped out their street shoes for slippers.

Slippers in the office was a Japanese tradition Emma could get behind. As someone who had worked as a waitress for years, anything that kept her feet comfy while she was working was in her mind a very good thing.

After clocking in and changing their shoes they sat down at the picnic-style tables where they spent their mid-shift breaks, and scanned the huge screens that hung from the ceiling for their names. The screens told them what their seat assignment was for the day, floor and cubicle.

“I’m on sixteen,” said Emma on the day they tried the sushi, about three weeks after her arrival in Japan. She had managed ten plates and felt like she might explode at any second. Killian and Smee, who had eaten fifteen and nineteen respectively, seemed no worse for it. She scowled slightly as they came up behind her. “What about you guys?”

“Fifteen,” said Anna.

“Me too,” said Smee, and Graham and Will were on fifteen as well.

“I’m on sixteen,” said Killian. “Walk up with you, love?”

Emma’s scowl smoothed out. “Sure.”

They took the stairs, preferring to avoid the elevator whenever possible. It was fast enough all things considered, but there were thirty floors in the building and they only had to go up two of them. Arriving on the sixteenth floor they discovered that their assigned cubicles —rectangular wooden tables separated into two squares by wooden dividers and equipped with a desktop computer and a bulky grey connection device that sat atop the monitor— were across the aisle from each other, meaning they could lean their chairs back and talk before their classes started.

“What’ve you got?” Killian asked.

“Hmmm.” Emma scrolled through her students’ class records, looking for one that neither of them had completed. “I think today I’ll talk about animals.”

“And I shall be practicing expressing anger,” said Killian.

“Ooh, I like that one. The roleplay can be hilarious.”

“Well I’ve only got one student assigned. So it looks like we’ll be roleplaying together, Kouki and I.”

The classes they taught consisted of between one and three students who used their own connection devices, provided as part of their NOVA package, attached to their own home computer or television to connect to the system which then directed them to their assigned class. It was a bit like a closed internet system —intranet, Killian insisted it would be called— and it allowed their students to take classes at any time of day or night and from anywhere that had a screen and a phone line they could use to connect. The week before Emma had taught a man who worked as a forest ranger and lived in a remote cabin on top of a mountain.

The teacher’s job was to select a class to teach —preferably one that all three had not done before, though this wasn’t always possible. Students bought packages of hundreds of classes, and if they weren’t able to advance to the next level after completing all the classes at their current one, they would do those classes over. Emma had taught students who’d done the same class three, four, even five times.

Five minutes before the class began the teachers opened the classroom and waited for the students to connect. When they did, their faces appeared on the screen in one of four boxes that it was divided into. Three boxes for the students, one for the teacher. The beginning of the class was announced by a bell that rang for ten seconds through the MM Centre and also over the system. When the last peal had finished chiming, the teachers turned on their cameras and greeted their students.

If the students did not connect before the class began, they were blocked from it and their devices would not work until their next class. If no students appeared, the teacher could close the class and have a free period.

Emma opened her class and read through her students’ past reports until the five minutes were nearly up. When only a minute remained, she looked at her screen. “No one’s here yet,” she said.

“How many are you expecting?”

“Two.”

Well, here’s hoping,” said Killian, and they put their headphones on as the bell began to chime.

When silence fell and Emma’s screen remained empty of students, she gave a sigh of relief and closed the class. She enjoyed teaching, far more than she’d thought she would, but a free period was always nice.

Picking up her book she leaned back in her chair and began to read. A moment later Killian’s chair tilted back as well and she smiled when she saw him doing the same.

“No show?” he mouthed at her. No talking was allowed during class time, except to students. She nodded. “Same,” he mouthed, then indicated her book. “What are you reading?”

Emma held up her Terry Pratchett, still the same one she’d been reading on the day they met. Normally she was a much faster reader but she’d been so busy exploring Osaka that she hadn’t had the time.

A broad grin creased Killian’s face and he held up his own book… also by Terry Pratchett. Emma grinned in return, and when he gestured for them to swap books she agreed readily.

Killian read the blurb on the back of her book then opened it, frowning slightly when he saw what was written on the inside cover. He looked up at her.

“What?” she mouthed.

He took out his notebook, the one he’d had in Nara, and scribbled something on a piece of paper. Ripping it from the notebook he handed it to her.

Is your last name Swan? it said.

Emma was confused for a minute then realised she’d introduced herself to her new friends simply as Emma. It was weird to think she’d been hanging out with Killian practically every day of the past two weeks and he didn’t even know her name.

She didn’t know his either.

It is, she wrote back. What’s yours?

Killian took the note and smiled, scribbling briefly before returning it.

Swan suits you. Mine is Jones. Do you think that suits me?

Killian Jones, she thought. It did suit him.

Nice to meet you, Killian Jones, she wrote. Can I have my book back?

His eyebrow rose as he read. Of course, Swan, he wrote back. Provided you’ll allow me to borrow it once you’re done.

Sure. And can I borrow yours?

Most definitely. Terry Pratchett should be shared. Which characters do you like best?

I like Death, wrote Emma. And Susan.

I’m partial to the wizards of the Unseen University myself. And of course the Night Watch, he replied

Carrot ❤️❤️ wrote Emma.

Nobby ❤️❤️ wrote Killian.

Emma laughed, earning her a glare from the supervisor.

They passed notes back and forth for the rest of the class time, and when the break between classes arrived Killian came over and leaned on his arms on the wall of her cubicle, continuing their discussion for so long that he had to almost dive back into his own to get his class prepared in time.

Despite their daily flirting Emma and Killian had never actually spent that much time just with each other before, but unlike what often happens when a group dynamic abruptly becomes a pair one, there wasn’t any awkwardness in their conversation. Instead it felt comfortable, natural, but with that ever-present frisson of electricity that had Emma’s skin buzzing and the butterflies in her belly doing somersaults. Killian flirted a lot less than she’d come to expect from him but charmed her far more, letting more of himself —his intelligence and enthusiasm, the softness under the innuendo— show through, and by the time they went downstairs to meet their friends for dinner Emma felt that their casual friendship had turned an invisible corner. She liked Killian, more than she’d liked anyone in a long time, but beyond that she could feel a potential between them, a possibility for something big and serious that was thrilling but also terrified her. Could she handle it, so soon after the disaster of Neal? Did she even want to?

The look in Killian’s eyes as he offered her half his red bean paste bun at dinner, the look in them when she accepted, the way he smiled when her own eyes widened in delight, made her think that maybe —maybe— she did.

Notes: I was in Japan in 2006-7, so that is when this fic is set. I haven’t been back since and I’m sure a lot has changed. I hope anyone who has visited in the past 13 years will forgive me any small inconsistencies in my memory or for places I describe that no longer exist. In short, please don't @me, I apologise in advance.

Also, all the OUAT characters here are standing in for people I actually knew in Japan, meaning in some cases I’ve had to tweak them a bit. It’s quite important for Anna’s character to be from Canada, for example. Again, please forgive me.

Thanks for reading 💕💕

#cs ff #cs ff au #cs fic #non magic au #captain swan #english teachers #japan #friends to lovers #pretty darn fluffy #but with a touch of angst to come #also there will be smut #but not in this chapter #also there is a fuckton of Japanese tourism stuff #so many details #if you like Japan this is your jam #profdanglaisstuff #osaka-shi serenade

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mostlycompetentwriter · 5 years ago

Text

Side Effects- Part One

M/F Pairing: Y/N X Stray Kids (Multiple Pairings)

Word Count: 4K

Genre: Yandere Stray Kids AU, Vampire AU, Fantasy AU

Warnings: graphic depictions of blood, violence, smut, and language

I could now walk by myself at night without the risk of breaking down in the middle of the sidewalk. I could finally keep down the food my roommate prepared for me without the familiar feeling of nausea churning my stomach unpleasantly. I could finally find a job to support myself, working fulltime as a Secretary at a company with full benefits and a reliable 401K.

ATTN:

Looking for a reliable blood donor for an estate of 8 young men belonging to the Miroh Coven. Preferably female with a blood type of O negative. Please send in an application ASAP.

Vampires weren’t uncommon in our society, though the government had heavily restricted their creation since a dramatic increase in population. Now, the government required notification if a Coven planned to initiate a new member. It was all a dramatic affair meant to prevent fledgling vampires who were more prone to violence and chaos. Of course, there was the occasional rogue who turned humans against their will simply because they couldn’t handle their bloodlust. However, more often than not, Coven leaders knew how to keep their members under control.

“Tuition is due this Friday,” I reminded myself, gaping at the giant Mansion gated in circumference by an ancient wrought-iron fence. “Remember to tell them you can start immediately, Y/N.”

I checked my make-up in the rearview mirror before opening the door, heels clicking obnoxiously against the sidewalk. My first impression was rapidly becoming something like a passage from Bram Stoker’s Dracula as I ascended the steps to the front gate, smashing my finger against the button on the elaborate security system. The gate opened without warning and I jumped back in surprise, hand fanning against my chest as my heart nearly skipped a beat or two in my chest. “Relax, Y/N,” I said, smoothing down my slacks.

“Come inside,” he said, opening the door further to welcome me into the shadowed hallways of the Miroh Mansion.

“What else will you do?” my roommate asked with a pout.

“Y/N,” my roommate chastised me softly. “I know why you don’t want to go and they’re just gonna win if you keep insisting.”

“Are you afraid they’ll find you?” my roommate asked. “They’re thousands of miles away and you haven’t seen them for months.”

“Seven months,” I informed her curtly. “And I’d like to go for eight.”

“Y/N,” my roommate groaned. “You told me that you used to love parties.”

“I know,” I said. “Maybe someday I’ll go out with you, but for now this is the best way I can cope.”

My roommate nodded, messing with something in her bag before approaching me on high heels that were just bordering on too tall. “Here, I found this is the laundry room.”

I held out my hand absent-mindedly, not really considering what she had given me until I pulled my attention away from the book. When I finally realized what it was, I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen followed by a wave of nausea that left me tossing my book to the side before bolting for the bathroom. “Y/N!” my roommate called my name, but I was already expelling the contents of my stomach, groaning from the sickness.

Because the item now discarded next to me was his necklace and I could have sworn I threw it out with their other gifts when I finally attained my freedom from their clutches...

I shivered at the memory, trying to will it away, but it was already forcing itself to play out again in my mind with perfect clarity.

“Sires?”

Chan explained the concept to me patiently. “Seungmin and Jeongin are sired to me and Hyunjin and Felix are sired to Changbin.”

“And Minho is sired to Jisung,” I said and Chan had smiled at me proudly like I had just discovered something profound.

“When we come home, it’s important that we reinforce our bond. Otherwise, some very bad things might happen.”

“Sleep,” he whispered close to my ear. I whined because I hated it when he left me alone after sex.

“Sungie,” I said, trying to get his attention. I was incredibly drowsy, fighting against every desire to close my eyes.

Jisung chuckled, entertaining my wandering hands. “I have business that requires my attention and you need to rest for me.”

“So messy,” Chan spoke now, clearly irritated. “I thought you planned better than this.”

“I did,” Jisung said. “Consider the girl an added bonus.”

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