#Love how I shoved Fresh into the background and said 'move over for the real star of the show'

[tulipsforyourlips]

✧˖°. i found you ✧˖°. (6)

|| the sandman x dead boy detectives ||

SUMMARY: You run the dead boys detective agency along with your two best friends. And somehow two ghosts and a living girl make it work. Until you dream one night, of dream himself.

PAIRING: dream of the endless x fem!reader

WC: 4K

WARNINGS: slight angst

A/N: okay brace yourselves ladies it's a long chapter. and slow paced too but i genuinely loved writing this chapter and showing intimate conversations between dream and her. its a slow burn after all the chemistry has to be right.

PART 6 ✧˖°.

"Morning lads," you greeted the pair sorting through the daily mail.

"Mornin- woah what happened?" Charles' eyes motioned to your hand.

What? How were your injuries from your dreams transferring into real life? Well, technically that happened outside your dream. Whatever, you had no energy to mull over the technicalities of the realm differences, that was better left to the Endless.

"Eh nothing. Just slightly cut my hand open on the bed railing."

"How did that even- you know what nevermind."

"How's Jesse doing?" You changed the subject.

The boys had been monitoring her full night.

"The demon did peek through but for like half a second. Too brief for us to use our incantations and extract him out," Charles answered. "Poor kid. Must be suffering."

You gulped down some water and nodded.

"So? I was in-"

"Hell for seventy years." Charles and you finished his sentence.

"Oi turn up the volume a bit," you said as the television screen displayed some news in the background.

"As you can see around us ladies and gentlemen, the sleepy sickness has indeed made a comeback. We have Shiara's parents with us right now who has been diagnosed with the same, just one victim out of the thousands being affected," the lady reported from a hospital.

Shit shit shit. This was bad.

"Will the number soon soar to millions like it did around a century back?" The reporter continued.

You had obviously read about it. And Morpheus himself had told you how his imprisonment had befallen this plague on the waking world.

"That's..intense," Edwin said.

You never heard Charles' reply because your brain was busy trying to comprehend what you had just heard. You needed to see Dream. In response to your plea, Matthew pecked against the window.

"I will be right back," you told the guys. "Need some fresh air." You grabbed your coat and hurried out.

Dream was waiting for you in the alley behind the building.

"The sleepy sickness is back," you said as you approached him.

"I know."

"But-I-," you stuttered, "I don't understand. I thought things were supposed to move in the healing direction after last night. Atleast not worsen."

"You are coming to the Dreaming with me."

"Right now?"

In answer, Morpheus fetched his sand pouch from his cloak. You knew he could easily transport you through his cloak disappearing trick. But he seemed determined to avoid any direct contact between you two. Except when he had bandaged your hand. Ugh not the time to be a hopeless romantic. Sand enveloped you in a tornado and took you to the Dreaming. Your heart shuddered when you took in the scene awaiting you. Ruins littered the ground everywhere which in turn bore fresh cracks. You revolved your head around, assessing the damage. You took a step back, bad idea. Your feet connected with nothing and you fell, would have if not for the sturdy arm wrapped around you. Something in your guts uncoiled, partially from the apparent death, and partially from the proximity of him. This close you could see the crystal blue of his sapphires for eyes. Loose rocks fell into the crevice, showing you your alternate fate. He uprighted you on secure ground before withdrawing his hand from your waist. That was the third time he had contacted you, willingly or not. Were you keeping track? For fuck's sake you almost fell to your death and that's the part you want to fixate upon?

Shoving your flustered state deep down, you asked, "How did this happen?"

"Honestly, I dont know," Dream spoke, "What I know is we need to take another approach, a more direct and dangerous one. It is our only shot at saving humanity." He looked down at you, his eyes imploring you to trust him and validate his decision.

Had he so little faith in you? "When do we start?"

"Tonight."

You were flopped on the couch alongside Jesse watching some lame ass family movie. The boys were on some haunted house case according to the note scribbled in Charles' ugly handwriting. On the screen, a daughter hugged her mom and you tasted a palette of emotions- jealousy for being denied what others had for granted, lonely for having no one to call your own, frustration for not remembering anything. Even though you had accepted the erasure of your past, you couldn't help but grieve who you were. Who were you? Someone who mattered so little that her family and friends didn't even bother looking for her? Didn't deem her worthy of putting themselves through the trouble.

The door busted open and Charles stormed through.

"Where's Edwin?"

"Fuck knows." Was all he said before shutting himself in his room.

Okay something was seriously wrong. The door creaked on its hinges as you opened it.

"Charles?"

He was sat on his bed, whimpering softly.

"Hey? What happened?" You asked in a whisper and sat down beside him.

He shook his head. You gave him time to gather his thoughts. "He just doesn't understand."

"Edwin?"

Charles sniffed, wiping his tears away. He took a deep breath and started, "There was this family. The husband murdered the wife and children."

You inhaled a bountiful. You were aware of his traumatizing past starring his abusive dad. That fucker. The first time he had told you about him, a rage you had never been familiar with before had tightened around your veins. If that sick brute hadn't already had departed the waking world, you would have hunted him down and done that.

"I am so sorry." You intertwined your fingers in his.

"I tried to intervene but apparently had some strong emotional response to it and got sucked into the situation itself. I am aces now-"

"Clearly."

He continued on, "but that didn't stop Edwin from yelling at me for getting involved in the first place." He sucked a breath. "I couldn't help it Hazel, I just couldn't. When I saw his ghost murder-" he choked on his words. New tears escaped his eyes and burned at the back of yours.

You cupped his face in your hands and swiped your thumbs across his cheekbones, dampening his tears. "Look at me Charles." 

He reluctantly met your gaze. "I am so sorry you had to go through that. I can't even begin to grasp what that might have felt like. That's simply fucked up. But you have to know, if there is one person who understands you, it is Edwin. He cares for you more than any other person or ghost on this Earth. The only reason he yelled at you was because he was scared Charles." You didn't release your hold on his face. "Of losing you."

Charles' eyes softened.

"He loves you. We both do."

"I know." A hint of a smile graced his lips.

You kept tossing and turning in your bed. Charles' tearstained face kept flashing in your mind. You had found Edwin at the bottom of the stairs, equally devastated at his outlash. He had explained to you what you already knew, that he was worried for Charles, of losing him. Oh these boys were going to be the death of you,  provided you survived long enough.

"You are late," Dream declared when you appeared in his realm.

"Sorry, trouble at home."

"Nothing serious," you added to erase the crease in his brows.

"I want to show you something."

"Lead the way your Highness!"

You followed him to Holy shit. You'd thought you'd toured through every phenomenon in the Dreaming, been fascinated by every miracle it had to offer. You were proved wrong as you titled your head backwards to witness the dazzling fabric of sky warping around you. When you propelled it downwards the same enchanting sight glimmered. The water was coated in the sheen of the starry night. An admiration blossomed deep in your core for the Endless standing at your side, the creator of the spectacles you had witnessed in the realm, the cause behind all your fascination. These docks just being one example, perhaps your favourite yet. After your very own dream of course.

"And this, mortal, is where the magic happens."

He extended his arms and the sea waters responded to their master's call. It roared to life from its dormant state and danced to the tunes of the Endless' hands. Spiral of waves loomed from the sea, stray droplets settling on your skin as you watched the Dream lord at work. Globes of water bounced on the ocean's surface. An assortment of objects and beings went about in their respective bubbles. In one such bubble, through its foggy exterior you recognised a dream you had gotten to trust mere days ago. And then it dawned on you, you were watching people's dreams. You were staring at the collective unconscious of the living world. There was no horizon visible as far as sight took you, the sea and the sky effortlessly blended into one entity. You were in infinity itself. Where you stood was sacred ground. And Morpheus had brought you here, to a special rendition of his soul. He trusted you. No, he had no other option but to, with the waking world now in turmoil too. Unknown to your captivated self, Dream was taking in each and every shift in your expression.

He came up just beside you. "Dip your hand in it."

You peered through the mist swathing the globules of dreams floating in front of you. Seeing your apprehension, he went first. His skin immersed the film and once he was halfway through, he rotated his head back. An invitation.

"You will be fine," he said.

"You promise?"

A thousand emotions collided in his eyes all in a fraction of a second. "I promise." And he disappeared into the globule. You followed suit and landed on your butts on solid ground. The Endless at your side who was standing on both his feet having failed to make a clown of himself unlike you, paid no heed to your graceful landing. You were on your feet in a quick motion. Butterflies fluttered their wings around you and you extended your arms for them to rest upon. A giggle left you as one plopped itself on your nose.

"What is this place?" You couldn't keep the wonder out of your voice.

"This is Fiddler's green. One of my proudest creations, I confess."

"I don't blame you." Your eyes raked past the waterfall and the pure greenery of the place.

A boy, just a child, hopped a few feet away from you.

"Why are we here?" You asked finally.

"To try our new approach."

"Dream you really have to start being elaborate."

"We need him to wake up. He has been here for a while."

"Wouldn't really hold it against him. Have you looked at this place?"

Dream looked at you. Of course he had. What kind of stupid rhetorical question was that to ask the person who had made the effing place.

"I mean it's beautiful."

He brushed past your compliment and said, "Hazel he has the sleepy sickness."

"Oh. But how am I supposed to get him to wake up?"

Nightmares weren't the only ones running wild. Dreams even as pleasant as the one you were currently in, were drifting from their original purpose to serve humankind. They used their beauty and kindness as an added advantage to lure humans into staying in a fragment of their mind forever. You'd known humans' resolve was fickle, being one of them. And provided with an opportunity to escape, no one would ever turn it down. Even the strongest wills would shatter with the passage of time. And that was why you listened intently to what Morpheus had to say.

"Invoke trust in the Fiddler's green as you did with others. Without hope, their sense of their purpose is growing corrupt. They are feeding on humanity's innate desire to run away from reality. Your trust has to fill in the void left by the absence of hope."

"What if I can't?"

"You don't have a choice."

"Dream but I- what if I am not the person for this? This was Hope's job. It was never meant to be mine."

"Will you tell his parents that they can stop visiting his bed every second of the day, quell their prayers, and say goodbye to their son because you were afraid to try?"

Brutal. But the impact was necessary. "No."

"Then the fate of the world is in your hands mortal."

No pressure then.

"Oi where are you going?" You asked Dream's retreating figure.

"This is your fight Hazel. I will see you when he wakes up."

"If you think you can just leave me here- " He definitely thought so because you were standing alone on the grassy landscape, except the jovial boy chasing butterflies.

You looked at him, airy giggles erupted from his throat. You sat down, feeling the grass beneath your palms. And closed your eyes until the beating of your heart was all you were aware of.

The dream collapsed as back in the waking world, the boy began to stir, accompanied by exuberant cries of his parents. You found yourself back on the docks, completely drenched. Beads of water dripped down from the hair sticking to your face.

"You look pathetic."

You swirled around to face the Endless who had spoken those words.

"A thankyou, you did remarkably well. Yoo hoo you are saving the world and I am indebted to you. And I apologise from the bottom of my heart which I am not even sure if I possess one, for abandoning you back there, would be nice but you know whatever," you rambled. "Wouldn't want to disrupt this whole emo vibe you have going on," you vaguely gestured to his hair and robes.

Your sour mood immediately dissolved as a smile graced his lips, his perfect cherry lips, you didn't deny it this time. An actual smile, fleeting but it was there. As real as the wind blowing through his hair, bestowing an air of ethereality upon him. A god, an Endless, who had just smiled at you.

"It's time for you to wake up mortal. The sun has already risen in your land. We have a lengthy path to walk, Fiddler's green was just one on it."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're one massive buzzkill?"

You didn't think so with the authority he owned and his general 'you dare say anything to me?' demeanour but the reminiscent twinkle in his eye made you doubt otherwise.

"Goodnight Hazel."

You were lying in your bed since you had woken up, which was seconds or minutes ago, brooding over stuff, enjoying the quiet laziness before one of the guys would barge into your room and drag you out of bed. They were late today. The faint ticking of the clock was the only sound in the room when a sudden scream interrupted the monotonous ticking followed by a loud thud. You dashed through your room to the living room where an unconscious Jesse was slumped on the carpet. Charles and Edwin were both lying on the floor next to a book on incantation and Charles' pandora's box, as you liked to call his bag of tricks.

"Oh you are alive," Charles addresses you.

"What the fuck happened?"

"The demon happened," Edwin exhaled in a breath.

"Don't worry we had it contained, like forever." Charles jiggled an opaque jar in his hands. "No thanks to you," he quipped.

"I-" You were dumbfounded. "You could have woken me up."

"Oh we tried mate, but you were sleeping 'like a log' won't do it justice. We thought you were dead for a moment."

"Or worse, that you had the sleepy sickness. But before we could assess that for certain, Charles had to pee and then Jesse got possessed so we kind of had our hands full."

It was because I was in someone else's dream you gits. But it isn't like you could explain that to them. And you did have a history of sleeping like someone who had just been introduced to the concept, so you let it pass.

"But we are obviously super relieved to see you fit and aces."

"I can see that. Charles you chose pee over me!" You cried.

"Mate it was nothing personal. It was really urgent."

Okay that was the last straw. Your hands were around his neck in a second, your knees pinning him down as he tried to wiggle free from your grasp.

"Careful with the jar, you two." Edwin said flatly, unconcerned if you would strangle the ghost.

What would happen if you did? Could ghosts die again? A part of you wanted to find out badly, but a sympathetic loser  part of you took pity on his reddening face and let go. You fell down on the space next to him, both of you heaving air into your lungs.

"I hate you," Charles huffed, his earring still dangling from the aftermath of your force.

You patted his shoulder. "Don't fret it son. I hate you more."

You were headed back to the agency with arms full from your grocery trip. A yapping Charles trailed on in front of you. Jesse had moved out, to your ghost friend's dismal and ranting about it was his way of dealing with it, unfortunately.

"And she said Edwin-that Edwin had a better fashion sense than me! Can you believe it?"

"I can."

He stopped and you took the lead. "What?" He blinked.

"Come on Charles you can't be serious. His taste is impeccable. I would have stolen his wardrobe a long time ago if he wasn't a ghost."

Passers by gave you judgmental glances, but you were used to it.

He caught up to you. "Hazel, this." He gestured to his baggy jacket. "And this." He flicked his earring.

"Yes even after this and this."

"I can't believe girls sometimes, scratch that, all the times." He fastened his pace, muttering to himself.

You brought your wrist to your hand to see the time when you got knocked off balance as someone bumped against you. Your groceries spilled out of the paper bag onto the road.

"Oh I am so sorry," a stranger's voice apologised.

You both were on your knees, gathering your escaped items.

"No it's okay my fault. I wasn't lookin-" You looked up and golden eyes met you. Wow. That was one rare iris.

"Oh shush now darling. Mistakes happen," they cooed.

You both scrambled to your feet as they handed you your bag. "Thankyou."

"You're welcome Hazel."

"How do you know my name?"

"Oh I overheard you and the boy talking," they said with an unnerving smile.

They could see him? Well quite a many people could, guaranteed that they'd had a similar bump in with death, not the Endless. You watched Charles distant profile walk on far ahead still seemingly mumbling to himself. You turned your head back to ask them if they had been in a near death incident, but they were already gone. Weird.

"Haz are you coming?" Charles shouted, realising you weren't with him.

You forsake the encounter with the golden eyed person and made your way towards your impatient friend.

Cool water lapped around your ankles where you had dipped your feet in them. The past week you'd fallen into a routine, a tedious and rewarding one, as you helped more and more people get rid of their eternal sleep. You had learned to manoeuvre the waters on your own, invading people's dreams while Dream devoted his time in mending his realm. Some days he'd join you after your daily targets and you'd both sit together, relishing each other's company. Today was one such day.

"When do we begin with the nightmares?" You had only focused on the sweet dreams till yet. Dream was insistent on it, forbidding you from trespassing through any others.

"Not yet," he said.

"Don't you ever get tired?" You asked after some time.

"Of what Hazel?"

"Of being immortal."

He raised his eyebrows at you, "Would you?"

"Fuck no!" You bit your lip. "Sorry. I mean knowing your time is always running out, does generate a new appreciation for life. But that life seems to be gone in a blink of an eye. Too brief, to leave a mark, to have your existence mean something. Time becomes the most precious and most despised instrument at play," you spoke. "But being immortal, it's-it's something else. Imagine the wonders you could witness, could be a part of. An eternity of just living, carrying the past of the world with you into the future. I like having a particular destination to swim to, but I would rather be lost in the infinite ocean, you know?"

Dream listened to your words intently. "I have a friend back in the waking world. Hob Gadling."

"I didn't strike you as that."

"As what?"

"As someone having friends. But go on."

"We met in the fourteenth century. Death and I visited this pub together and there he was, proclaiming humans could cheat death."

"What did you do?"

"Death granted him his wish."

"What?" What?  "So does that mean he is still alive?"

"Yes. In fact we meet up every century."

"Hold up hold up. The devil meeting with an immortal man in the pub, that has nothing to do with this right?"

Dream's lips twitched imperceptibly.

"Will you ever cease surprising me?"

Quiet ensued you both.

"So this Hob Gadling, does he enjoy his immortality?"

"To my initial surprise, yes. I had thought after a hundred years, he would surely be begging me to take the curse back but he seemed to consider it a boon. Even after centuries had gone by, his zest to live never died, hasn't died. He reminds me of you. Or, you remind me of him."

"Oh careful Dream lord, are you implying I am your friend?" You nudged his shoulder lightly.

"Now let's not get too ahead of ourselves."

You let out a half suppressed laugh.

"Perhaps," he said.

You titled your head towards him, "Eh. I don't think I'm ready to promote you from acquaintance just yet."

"Is that how it is?"

"Absolutely."

A shooting star dived through the sky, cutting a blaze of fire through it.

"What do you wish for Dream?"

He glanced at you.

"Come on. It appears every day without fail, in the abode of your creations. You made it. What do you wish for everyday?"

He was silent.

"And here I thought we were friends."

"I created it in memory of Hope."

That was the first time he had willingly mentioned her. 

"Do you miss her?"

He took his time to answer. "Sometimes."

You drew your feet out of the water and hugged your knees. "Well. Tragedy does birth-"

"The most beautiful things."

You looked at him to find his eyes already on you, a quiet yearning displayed in them.

"Ok mind reader," you scoffed.

"I do not posses those powers, unfortunately."

"Oh a creep then?"

When you looked at him again, his lips imitated the crescent moon in the sky on his perfect face. It wasn't like any of the fleeting twitches, no matter how treasured, he had given you before. The smile reached his cheeks. His teeth glittered under the moonlight, his skin washed in it. A weak crinkle formed at the end of his eyes. Your heart lurched in its rib cage, wanting to join another. No. You won't fall for him. You won't fall for an Endless. You won't fall for the pompous goth guy. You won't fall for him. You weren't falling for him. You weren't falling for him. You weren't falling for him. You were not falling for him. Shit. You were falling for him. 

SERIES MASTERLIST

[a5tr0n0m1cal]

I Had to-

*kids bop music blares in the background*

[atticinthecafe]

its 1 am and I wanted to write before I headed off to bed. this jumps around a lot time wise and I did not proof read it I'm ti r e d

---

The first time Akira did this Morgana nagged at him the whole time.

---

"Joker! You've been wandering around the city for hours," Morgana whined from inside the bag, shifting around.

Akira just hummed in response. His eyes were distant and foggy, constantly trained on the distance. Sometimes they would scan across the crowds, almost like he was looking for someone, but for the most part he just seems dazed, lost in thought. He kept walking, the twists and turns memorized by the back of his hand, simply wandering. Sometimes he'd end up on a train to some other area, but he just wandered all the same.

"When are we going home? I'm bored!" Morgana complained, this time getting a bit louder.

This seemed to break Akira from his thoughts, as he frowned looking at his bag where Morgana sat.

"I can talk you home if you want," He spoke low, just to his cat, in a neutral tone. It was hard to tell what was on his mind.

"Yes! wait- you're going to keep walking?"

"Mhm,"

"I'm not leaving you on your own! I'll just tough it out then! But we better get food sometime soon!"

---

Morgana hadn't really known why he was wandering, but to be fair, neither did he.

He had his hand shoved into a pocket, holding the glove he had gotten from his rival and walked around the city, watching the scenery and the people go past as he drifted. It was different now. He had been doing this for weeks. Just- walking around.

Orginally he had no clue why he did it. Something weighed on him, made him feel heavy. He zoned out during conversations and stared into space. Morgana suggested maybe fresh air and a walk would help refresh his senses, but it just ended in him wandering.

He needed the space, to be away from people. He also needed away from his thoughts, but that wasn't so easy. The city provided a nice distraction. Different things to think about. But that didn't stop the soft lull of sadness from weighing down his head.

He missed Akechi if he was being honest. He didn't notice it. But it was like a low hum in the back of his heart. Invisible stress making him tired when he hadn't done anything. It haunted him and didn't leave him be.

---

Morgana at some point had mentioned how when cats lose a friend or someone they care about they'll wander around, meowing and crying out for the other.Akira wondered if Morgana had been talking about him when he brought it up.

Today he had left Morgana with Futaba. The fog in his head and weight in his chest had gotten worse the past week. He hadn't known why until Ryuji mentioned it was around the same date they had met Akechi.

Incredible how his subconscious refused to let go.

The rain pattered against his umbrella as he walked and puddles gently splashed beneath his feet. It was nice to get rain in June. He certainly didn't mind it. It gave the city a softer, calmer feel. It almost felt like the rain took some of his weight with it when it fell.

---

Akira was fine most days. He seemed normal. Almost like he had moved on, but there were some where he simply disappeared out the front door, and everyone knew. They knew he still missed Akechi, no matter how many times they told him he shouldn't.  They knew he needed space for a bit.

The one time they made him stay it was obvious how he was stressed without realizing it. He fidgeted awkwardly and didn't participate in conversation. He seemed like he wasn't there at all and when spoke to he'd look up confused and obviously off in his own world.

Sometimes they would intentionally tell him to take a walk. He'd get shaky and tense for no reason. Seem more irritable and quiet than usually. Not handle loud noises or being around people well. This is when his friends would step in and tell him maybe he should go for a walk to calm his nerves. Sometimes it would take him getting frustrated over something small and all his stress breaking like a dam for the others to take notice, in which case they'd quiet down and all pause to take care of him. Whether it be one of them going on a walk with him, or the group settling down to bundle up in blankets and form a small pile as they watched movies together.

He wished it would stop. The days where he was stressed without realsing it and dazed. The days where he felt like the slightest thing going wrong would cause him to start sobbing and he didn't know why. The days where he missed Akechi.

He wasn't even certain if he was alive.

---

It had been a few years. Akira was better. He was managing better. But he still suddenly disappeared for walks. Some nights he wouldn't sleep at all and instead wandered.

It had been one of those nights, and now here he was, head resting on the counter of Leblanc well Sojiro huffed at him in the background. Something about going upstairs to sleep and not staying up so late.

He didn't move though, and Sojiro didn't seem to mind. There was something calming about the atmosphere. It was warm and the chattering of the TV in the background provided comfort in it's own way.

He couldn't sleep, as much as he wanted to the stress tugged at his brain keeping him just awake enough to be unable to sleep but not awake enough to bypass his exhaustion. So he just sat there, soaking in the smell of coffee and the peaceful air.

---

A ring sounded from the door, and Akira didn't bother looking up, staying where he was.

That was until he heard a soft, almost amused hum as a chair besides him was dragged out from its spot, someone sitting besides him. His eyes flickered open and up to meet red ones, gazing at him fondly.

The time passed in sections, one moment he has his head on the table, next he knew Akira was a crossed from the man, getting started on his favorite cup of coffee, pressing his glove back into his hand with tears pricking at his eyes. Then he was brewing coffee. A conversation between them was happening but- he didn't hear it. It made his chest warm and light, the lightest it had felt it years.

He placed the coffee infront of the other with a smile. He could feel the pure, unfiltered love and happiness just to be able to hear his voice again rush through his body with every word the man spoke.

He hummed softly as the other pressed their hands together, the warmth filling his body yet lingering just where he touched him.

---

His heart felt raw.

Akira blinked open his eyes to Sojiro leaving. To the once warm comforting room feeling cold and bitterly lonely. The warmth that lingered on his hand feeling almost like a bitter sting.

He lifted his head up to find tears streaming down his face and his sleeves damp from where he had been resting his head.

Of course, it was just a dream.

His fingers found their way into his pocket, and he gripped the glove tight. His chest was nothing but raw pain that you would have figured he would have gotten over by now.

He just wanted to see him again.

---

The next few days were incredible low for Akira. He spent most of them asleep.

Dreams were incredible tantalizing now. The fact that occasionally, he would see Akechi again in them made them feel more worth while than reality sometimes.

It was lonely.

He spent a long time asleep that week. More than he should have, but he couldn't help it. The sting in his chest was hard to bare.

---

Akira laughed.

It was the fullest his chest had felt in a while. No longer that haunting hollow that followed him around from day to day.

He was still moving on, he still occasionally had days where he would wander. But they were less now.

The warmth that filled his chest when his friends smiled, the brightness in their eyes and the lightness to their tone when they said the stupidest jokes made the lonely fade.

He had forgotten how good they make him feel.

There was a bittersweet taste left in his mouth when he thought about Akechi. How he should get to feel the same warmth Akira did. How he deserved so much more than the cards he was handed, but Akira didn't linger on that. He couldn't. He had to move forwards.

Akechi would probably call him stupid for staying stuck on him so long. He would say how he shouldn't waste the life he has thinking about someone who killed him. How if anything he should be glad he finally won. There was no more rivalry to be had. But Akira still had to disagree.

Akira took every step as a challenge to be better. He spent the days trying to improve, telling himself that he couldn't fall behind now. He couldn't disappoint the rival he loved so dearly by stopping just because it was over.

He figured if Akechi ever did return, he'd give him a real challenge. If he met Akechi again he wanted to be someone he could respect, someone he could challenge and find worth challenging. He wanted to keep the rivalry alive in his own little way. It was just a promise in his own mind he had to keep. And he couldn't do that with a hurting chest, so he indulged in the moments surrounded by friends, with laughter in the air.

He would do his best to continue, just to prove that he could. He wouldn't forget Akechi, he didnt think he could, but he wouldn't fall behind because of him.

---

When the day was late and the sky had turned shades of orange Akira was left cleaning up Leblanc, making sure everything was ready for business tomorrow.

It had been a while since he had finally realized that he had moved forwards, but he was still making progress with each day.

He leaned back onto a shelf, letting out a soft satisfied hum as he relaxed for the day.

Then the bell on the door rung.

Then a familiar voice spoke, and Akira had to make sure this wasn't a dream.

"I hope I haven't come in too late for a cup of coffee Kurusu, I was hoping we could catch up,"

[mrs-harkness]

Ocean Eyes (Part 1)

Pairing: Tammy x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.6K

Taglist: @peggycarter-steverogers @imgayandmymomdoesntknow 

A/n: Hey guys. Sorry for the wait. Life has been so busy as I just became a certified therapist and just life stuff in general. This is just going to be a mini fic for fun while I work on writing my next big one- which will be for Cordelia! Literally nothing like Run to Me, so I hope you don’t find it disappointing. Just a little filler while I work out the plot for my next story!

You pulled out your phone, checking the time. 1:53 PM. Your interview was at 2 o'clock and if you didn't figure out where you were quickly, you were going to be late. You walked faster, panic dialing your best friend who had gotten you the interview.

"Hello?" the sweet voice chimed on the other end.

"Sarah! Help! I'm lost," you pleaded, looking at the address on the piece of paper in your hand and trying to match it to the towering houses around you.

"How did you get lost? I gave you the exact address. Did the driver put it in wrong?"

"No. I made the Uber drop me off at the entrance to the neighborhood because his car looked super sketch and I didn't want the mom to see me step out of a car that looks like it was used in a 70's porn film. I started walking and I got lost."

You heard Sarah shuffling around in the background, and what sounded like the tapping of keys.

"Okay, give me the address for the closest house," she said. Your best friend was a life saver.

"Uhhh... 768 Elm Street," you told her, trying not to look suspicious in this wealthy neighborhood.

"Hmmm. Okay you're literally two streets over. If you go to the end of this street, take a right and walk less than two blocks. You'll make it to maple from there. You somehow managed to be right behind her house. It will take you about ten minutes."

Shit.

"No! There has got to be a quicker way! I am going to be late!" You whined, stomping your feet on the sidewalk in frustration.

"Yeah, Tammy is not going to like that. She is very patient but she's got three kids so she really only has enough patience for them. Well wait, hang on a second."

"What? Did you find a quicker route?"

"Sorta. You should have just stayed in the Uber."

"Sarah I did not want to pull up like Will Smith from the Fresh Prince of Belaire, now spit it out already!"

"Well that house you are standing in front of? Technically if you could find a way into their backyard and through the trees... you could get to Tammy's house in half the time."

You looked at the house in front of you. It looked more like a post office than a home. Large marble columns, real gas lamps framing a shiny oak door, and a second floor balcony that seemed larger than Sarah's whole apartment. This is not the type of property you just meandered around on, but this job was also not the type of opportunity you just let slip away by being two minutes late.

You walked a little to the side of the house, and there you found your favorite thing of the whole house: A gate to the backyard.

"I'm gonna do it," you say to Sarah, who had been quiet this entire time.

There was more silence, before you heard your best friend draw in a breath.

"Don't get arrested please. Call me when you're done, or in lock up. Either way, be safe."

Sarah had always been someone who just supported and loved you no matter what. Whether it was moving on a whim to another city and crashing on her couch indefinitely or trespassing through a rich family's yard to get the job that would help you get started on your dreams. She was that type of friend and you loved her for it.

You didn't even say goodbye as you hung up and checked the time again. 1:55 PM mocked you on the screen. You shoved the phone in your pocket before quickly looking around. No one was out and about thankfully probably due to the heat picking up, so you walked briskly over to the gate.

You said a prayer and begged the universe to be kind to you under your breath as you forced yourself to find the courage and flung open the lock to the gate, letting it swing open. You looked around the yard really quickly to find it empty as well. Maybe this wouldn't be hard at all.

You closed the gate behind you and you quickly jogged into the yard. There was a picnic table close to the other side of the fence and you would be able to hop right over! You breathed a sigh of relief because everything was going to plan, until the dog.

A ear piecing yap began sounding through the yard like an obnoxious security alarm. You turned and saw that the back of the home was basically one big window and there inside was the ugliest looking purse dog you had ever seen, notifying every living creature with working ears within a mile of your presence.

You watched horrified as the owner of said ugly dog appeared in the view of the window like some horror movie on a tv screen. An older woman, dressed as if she had been in the middle of a workout, was also now yapping at you angrily and  making her way to her giant window wall.

Your feet started moving before you realized what was happening and you bolted to the back of the yard and onto the picnic table, jumping and throwing one of your legs over the fence. The little old woman made it to a sliding glass door, releasing her dog and profanities towards you.

The dog tore across the lawn, but thankfully was no actual threat. You looked at the woman as you threw your other leg over the fence.

"I'm not a criminal! I'm sorry! I just got lost on the way to a job interview. You have a nice home!" you yelled, trying to prove to this stranger you were not bad, just had poor execution of your ideas. You dropped over the other side of the fence and into the wooded area behind the home, running as fast as your feet could carry you from the angry woman and her angrier dog.

It only took you about a minute of running full force to make it to another fence, a fence you were praying was Tammy's. You ran around the length of it, following it to the front of the house. You shakily pulled out the paper from your pocket and checked the address. You had made it. This was the house. You laughed, more relieved than anything, and jogged to the front door.

You knocked and weren't even able to take a full breath before the door opened.

There before you stood the most beautiful woman you had ever laid your eyes on. Her hair was the color of sand on the beaches of heaven its self and her eyes looked like brownies fresh from the over, and you had the strange thought of wanting to burn your mouth on them.

Y/n, that's weird. Stop it.

You stared at her, trying not to look to heavily at her gorgeous smile at the fear she may think you were looking at her lips. Even though you kind of were. You forced yourself to smile back.

"You must be Y/n," she said, looking at her watch, "and you are right on time. Let it be known I find that super attractive."

You chuckle nervously, unable to process a coherent thought. You really just hoped she couldn't tell you had just ran through the woods to stand stupid on her doorstep. Thankfully it didn't seem like she did and stepped aside, letting you in.

The home was gorgeous and lavish, but also homey and seemed lived in. You could hear the distant laughter of children somewhere in the house and portraits of what you could only assume were those children hung on the walls. You did notice though that there was a lack of family portraits probably due to the husband no longer being in the picture.

Sarah had filled you in a little bit about the family situation. She had worked with them over the summer and was working for them when they filed for divorce. Supposedly neither of them seemed upset by it, but he had still decided to move into another town. Tammy supposedly worked a very busy job and with three rambunctious kids, help was needed. Sarah had helped them occasionally, but Tammy needed something more permanent and hopefully that's where you would come in.

You followed Tammy into a big open kitchen and sat down with her at the kitchen table.

"Can I offer you some tea or water?" she said sweetly.

Even though you were parched from the mini marathon you had just ran, you politely declined. You pulled your resume out of your bag and put it on the table. Tammy reached over and took it, looking at it before smiling back up at you.

"I know Sarah said you had just moved here, so what brought you to town?" Tammy asked.

You hoped the look of confusion was not obvious on your face because you were expecting only questions about the job. You were unsure how useful you would be talking about yourself right now.

"Uh, well I came to town for a fresh start, and with Sarah here, it just seemed like the best place to restart."

"Running from something?" Tammy asked, putting down the resume and taking a sip of something in a mug that had been sitting on the table.

"N-no ma'am. Nothing illegal. I am not a criminal. I told the old lady the same thing," you stuttered.

Tammy raised her eyebrow at the last part, but you kept going to breeze over it hopefully.

"I just- I got my heartbroken and got kicked out of the apartment we shared. I didn't feel like I was making anything of my life where I was and I have such big dreams, but all I found there was pain and complacency, so I came here in hope to change that."

You voice sounded small and you ringed your hands in your lap, nervous that you may have said too much. Tammy's face softened even more somehow though and she smiled at you over the edge of her mug. She stared at you for a moment, her eyes seeming to sparkle. She nodded and looked down at your resume again.

"Well, you certainly have quite an impressive track record here. You seem like a kid expert. And because I already did a background check on you, I feel comfortable saying, if you would like the job its yours."

You sat there at the table, now not trying to hide the stunned look on your face. You had a harder time getting over the fence than getting employed by this woman.

"That's it? You don't need to ask me anything else? You're giving me the job?" you ask, stumbling over your words.

Tammy laughs and it feels like butterflies flutter in your belly. You like to make her laugh, but you aren't sure if she think's you're funny or stupid.

"With my life and my job, Y/n, the thing that is most important to me is being able to trust you. With my kids, my day to day life, and if I need your help with something. Trust and honesty go a long way with me, and you proved that with one question," she said, coming over to you with a glass of water.

You took it with a smile, forcing yourself to take a slow slip.

"Well, you can definitely trust me. And I'd be honored to by your nanny," you say, excitement and nervousness flowering inside your chest.

Tammy smiles sweetly at you.

"Consider yourself part of the family Y/n. Now you do know this is a live in position right? Sarah told you that?"

You nodded, that having been one of the main reasons you wanted the job. As much as you loved Sarah, you did not love sleeping on her couch. Being a live in nanny presented its own set of challenges, but it wouldn't be forever.

"Good. Can you move in today?"

You choked on your water, coughing and spitting it all over your shirt. Tammy laughed at you, and your cheeks burned red. Now you were embarrassed and Tammy sensed that.

"I'm sorry Y/n, I didn't mean to shock you. I just really need your help around here as soon as possible. And it would be better if you just came on in and got to know me and the kids since you're going to be a big part of our lives."

She handed you a paper towel, looking down at you with a comforting expression. Your cheeks burned red again, but not from embarrassment. You looked away and cleared your throat, unsure why you were so flustered.

"Sure. Yeah, no problem. I just need to run home and grab my clothes and things, but I don't have any furniture so-"

"Oh don't worry. You'll have the whole attic. Its renovated and fully furnished and you'll have your own bathroom. You don't need to worry about buying anything."

That was a relief. It would have taken you a while to afford those things.

You got up and walked with Tammy to the front door, her opening it for you.

"Thank you Ms. Tammy for hiring me, you will not regret it. I will take good care of your kids and make your life as easy as I possibly can," you say, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, attempting to look confident and wanting to ensure Tammy she had made the right choice.

She chuckled again, putting a little hole in that confidence, but it was quickly repaired when she wrapped her arms around you. It shocked you and you stood there, frozen for a second before hugging her back.

"I know you will. You're going to be a wonderful addition to our lives, all of our lives," she said. Her voice had a hint of something in it, making it seem like silk, but then you felt her pulling on your hair a bit and you felt like your legs may fall out from under you. Who was this woman?

Before you could assume anything further though, she pulled back and revealed she had taken a small branch with green leaves from your hair. You laughed nervously. Tammy cocked an eyebrow at you and smiled cheekily, holding it up.

"That is a funny story... I can explain that. I promise I bathe."

It was Tammy who laughed this time thankfully. She nodded and played with the branch in between her long, manicured fingers.

"That's alright. You can tell me about it tonight over drinks once you are home. I'd like to get to know you better while we get you settled."

Something about the way she said it made your breath catch in your throat. She smiled at you and you two said your goodbyes. You would text her when you were on the way back home. How strange that felt.

You sat in a much cleaner Uber on the way back to Sarah's, your head pressed against the glass. You couldn't stop thinking about Tammy and it seemed like you also couldn't wipe the smile from your face either. It seemed almost like a dream.

Just then, your phone buzzed and you were pulled from the thoughts of the woman to see that her name was on your screen. You quickly held the phone up to unlock it, suddenly overcome with the need of answering her at a moments notice. Thankfully it was not a message of her changing her mind.

Btw, just call me Tammy. Ms. Tammy is a little formal ;)

You smiled and bit your lip, quickly responding.

Okay, Tammy :)

[kyoongboxi]

Beyond My Reach —

[Baekhyun AU]

——

<< Interlude

Exam weeks is finally over on Friday. You are planning to clear your minds by hanging out somewhere with your friends but two days ago your mother texted you that you should comeback early to your parents house because your brother's wife expecting their first child soon and your mother wants all of the family members to be there. You sighed because you wouldn't dare to say no to her. But at least you still have the night time left before finally leaving the dorm for around two months starting from tomorrow.

You brushed your hair away from your face when a car passed in front of you caused by a gushed of wind that ruffling your hair a little. You were now heading against some restaurants with a bag full of soft drinks gripped between your fingers. Drinking or more like get drunk was never really you. Your alcohol tolerance was really that low so you wouldn't take any risk of it and buy a soft drinks instead. It was around seven p.m when you felt your phone buzzed in your pocket. You lazily unlocked your phone because you already know who is it. 

Where's my food? I'm so hungry i think i'm gonna die from a hunger if you didn't come in any second.. T^T ..hungry.. My poor belly...

Baekhyun. Your boy, your everyth— friends. He texted you exactly three hours ago that he wanted to see you. He said he missed you because exam weeks drives you insane and you didn't have time to meet him. Maybe things works easier for the guy because he is a genius. Yeah. A genius. Even with those round glasses hanging perfectly against his nose, he's not that guy whose into reading, studying, making some journals, no. He was just born clever. He is also the guy who hanging around a lot. He got a lot of friends and women attracted to him. Of course. He was handsome. 

And you remember, the first time he went drinking, and it was also the first time you found out that his alcohol tolerance is low. He got wasted. One of his friends called you that night. He said Baekhyun might need someone to watch him for the rest of the night because he literally passed out outside his door. You came right away and found the guy sprawled out against the couch. His round glasses was off his face, eyes half closed, mouth half parted. He just adorable. 

"You know what? I just realized you look so pretty from this angle" 

What?

"No, Baek— You're drunk. C'mon lets get you to bed" You positioned yourself in front of him and trying to take off his jacket without looking at his face. You didn't pay attention to his words that much because he did called you pretty multiple times and you felt nothing about it. That's it until he suddenly pulled your wrist harshly so you were falling on top of him. 

Eyes went wide, you could almost feel his warm breath against your face because he was too close. He looked at you with those drunken gaze, eyes droopy probably from the alcohol. "Wish we weren't friends so I could kiss you everytime I like" He chuckled softly before he loosened his grip around your wrist. You quickly pulled your hand away and straightened your position. And then you feel it. Something that you have never felt before. Was it a cringe feeling? Warmth? Love? Scared? You were unsure and you never think about that again until now.

You were pulled back harshly into the reality because the cashier's voice startled you in your seat. She says she has called your name multiple times and thought you were gone already. You let out an awkward laugh and apologized before finally took a leave. It was ridiculous that you were thinking about an event you promised you'd never think again. You realized that you can't fall in love with him because it would be so awkward.

After ten minutes walk from the restaurant, you finally stood outside his dorm with two bags gripped between your fingers. There was something inside your heart that stopped you from rushed in and sharing some bear hug. But you didn't know what is that neither. It does bother you because you feel like you just missed this boy, you really do. You just wanna laugh around with him again, listening to his unnecessary joke just like what you always did on high school. But it seems like a barrier between you and him started to grow in the past year. Things does change and you're trying so hard to accept it. 

You inhaled some air to fill in before typed the pass code lock and stepped inside. He never changed his pass code lock from the day he moved in. He also decided to tell you what is the pass code because you're his closest friends. Once you're inside, it was rather quiet and his handsomeness was nowhere to be found. You're assuming that he was probably in his room playing his favorite games so you headed towards the kitchen right away.

You were about to take out the food from the bag when your phone suddenly rang loudly inside your pocket. Wasting no time, you put your phone against your ear without seeing who is calling while your other hand continue to prepare for the food. 

"Hello this is me speaking.." 

"Hey sweetheart!" A melodious voice greeted you from another side. You could tell the voice was belong to your mother because she always have that little excitement somewhere in the way she talked. "What's wrong mom?"

"Could you come home before noon tomorrow? I'm sorry I feel like— I miss you so much. To be honest I'm kinda worried about you... I don't know why though. What are you up to?" Hearing those words from your mother, you pulled your hand away from the food.

"Got it. I'm—I'm about to eat mom. I'm okay. Don't worry about—" You immediately stopped talking when you feel a presence and something pressed against your butt. Baekhyun.

He put his mug against your butt guiding you to moved away. Just another Baekhyun thing. "Move I wanna get drink"

You quickly moved away and turned around to see the boy bringing his mug into his lips. He was wearing his usual black shirt paired with a sweatpants. Meanwhile his hair is still a little wet from the shower. "Sweetheart? You alright?" 

Right. Even your brain couldn't deny the fact that you missed this boy because it made you forget that you're currently in a call with your mother. "Ah sorry— I'm about to eat. Call you later?"

You were that close to pressed the red button and ended the call until Baekhyun lowered his head against your phone. "Yeah she was about to eat me hurry baby I'm getting impatient"

But thankfully you were quick to react. You pressed the red button and finally ended the call. You shove him hard right against the shoulder caused him to stumbled a bit with a sweet laugh coming from his lips. "C'mon lets eat" He then left the kitchen with the food in his hands without saying another words.

You shook your head and simply following him into the small living room. Baekhyun rarely eat on the kitchen bar because he said he couldn't leaned back when he sit on the high chair. "How's your exam? Good?" He questioned with a mouth full of noodles.

You began to eat softly without looking at him. He also turned the tv on before he starts eating. A random news channel was played in the background and you wasn't really pay attention to it because the cute and handsome guy beside you who was now eating, enjoying his food was the reason. You just can't think straight. Maybe avoiding him for the next month seems like a good plan. "Good" You answered softly.

"You know" He leaned forward while his fingers snatched the soft drink on the table in front of you. He was too close for a second. You could smell his fresh woody scent and it only takes you back into your high school time where he sing his heart out for you on the backyard and pulled you into an embrace for the first time because you were crying. 

"There was a girl.. A new one probably.. She confessed to me. Like she really walking up to me with a chocolate bar and some cute letter in her hand" He took a gulp from his can. 

He was known as a talented, cute, handsome and that hot guy in round glasses after he participated in a music festival last year. It also wasn't the first time he had someone confessed to him. You knew that already. "Was she cute?" You found yourself questioned him again. 

"Kinda.. But you know what" He put his can down on the table and looking into your direction searching for you in the eyes. "She ran away after that.. And—" You finally drew your attention to him and noticed he was holding back his laugh. His expression was too obvious for you. "And— oh God I'm kinda feel bad for this"

You also put down your spoon and raising one of your eyebrow. You were ready to hear his  another unnecessary joke because he never fails you to makes you laugh. "She slipped" 

This time, it wasn't a laugh that escaped your lungs. Your eyes widened immediately as the words finally rolled out his tongue. He wasn't joking this time. "No.. For real? Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" 

"God— she slipped two times. I—I was trying to help her—" And then thats it. A deep hearty laughter that you haven't heard for a long time and you've missed echoing against your ears. He was never really changed.

"I was trying to help her for real but she shoved me away and— she slipped again" He trying to explain everything with his hands between his laughter. The next second he got up from his seat and trying to demonstrate how the girl slipped. 

"She was like— slipped or tripped over her own feet before falling down against the floor. Her expression was like—" He then widened his eyes and leaving his mouth wide open before finally bursting out into another laugh. Your giggles also turned into a loud laugh because of his silly expression.

Baekhyun went back to his seat beside you still half laughing. Your fingers immediately went to his arm, clutching into him tightly while your forehead rested against his shoulder for a support because you were the person who had to clinging into something when you laugh and he knew it since high school time. The laughter last long for about two minutes because your boy keep making a sound that escaped his lips when he was trying to stop his laughter.

And when Baekhyun's arm draped around your waist, your laugh suddenly died down and you shifted away from him slowly hoping he wouldn't notice. No. You didn't like the way he touched you because his touch is burning and lingering a little longer against your skin. No. 

Both of you continued to eat in silence. Only the voice of the news anchor against the tv break the silence in a steady tone. Baekhyun hold his spoon between his fingers on the right hand meanwhile his thumb on the other hand busy scrolling through his phone. You were done with your food and took a glance against him. His eyes was focused on the screen with his mouth still chewing.

This isn't the first time you've spent your dinner time with Baekhyun. It would always end up with him rested his head on your lap with your fingers playing with his hair or simply brushed it away from his eyes and listening to him babbling for an hour before drifted off into a slumber. A sight of him sleeping never fails to warm your heart.

You grab the remote tv and tore your gaze away from him into the screen. Switching the channel up and down hoping you would find some movies worth to watch. But instead of finding a movie to watch, you found him stood up abruptly with his eyes still locked to his phone.

"What happened? You alright?"

"Malia.. She accidentally eating something with a peanut in it. I—I should go check on her she's in a hospital right now"

Malia. Malia. Malia. That was the name you heard for the first time exactly one year ago right after the music festival was held. She was pretty. Prettier than you, you admitted that. She was also a clever one. Then you found out that you and her are in the same major. And you didn't really remember how this Malia girl become a lot closer to your friend. They started to hanging out multiple times after that. You? Of course you didn't mind at all.

Also you noticed that Malia trying so hard to be your friend and started to ask anything about him. What he likes, how is his type, what did he do in his spare time. You? You answered all of her questions because you didn't see that coming. 

"Oh.. Okay then" He was rushing into his room to grab some hoodie and a car key when you stood up as well. This is the first time you saw him so worried again over someone after a long time. He took multiple steps quickly towards the door without even looking at you and saying another words. 

You didn't. You didn't see that coming until you saw it with your on eyes on Tuesday afternoon. You were beyond excited because you finally found the book that he recommended to you last month. You couldn't hold your smile that keep creeping into your lips as your feet dragged you towards his dorm. You typed the pass code lock as fast as you can and rushed inside.

You were expecting that he would probably sleeping or gaming in his room but you were wrong. Him, Baekhyun, was kissing a girl on the lips lovingly against the couch. Malia. She was sitting right on his lap with her fingers disappeared somewhere against his hair. Baekhyun, he even had both of his eyes closed enjoying the sparks between two of them. And it was also the time you feel a weird feeling that you couldn't describe. A heartbreak? What for? 

Deep inside, you know this is so wrong. You were just his friend and you didn't have the rights to controlling him thats why avoiding him for a while sounds like the best solution. He was in his happiest state with her, Malia. What kind of friend you are if you dare to take his smile and happiness away?

You weren't expecting that when Baekhyun rushed back in towards the living room where you still haven't moved a bit from your position. His eyes filled with concern when it drifted against yours. "I—I'll be back in an hour—"

"I'll just leave as well, Baekhyun. I'm going home tomorrow. I'll clean this up and leave right after" You turned your head against him. Answering quietly because you were unsure why it suddenly become so hard to speak. 

He simply nodded and you watched his back disappearing from your sight so quickly. Now you could feel your eyes burning hot. Your fingers when to your chest because it feels like it so hard to breathe. You closed your eyes trying to control your breathing because oh fuck you loved this boy but it was too late. Its all too late for now. You have lied to your feelings for a long time. And that was also the time you realized, he is already beyond— your reach.

[willow-salix]

TAG MiniBang 2021

Because the combined bad influences of Flyboy and Sonata were at work here we also decided to bend the rules a little and post early...

I was privileged to work with one of my best friends on this project,  @misssquidtracy​ . We went a little rogue (seems to be a theme for us) and shared both parts of the challenge with both of us contributing to the art and the writing. Squiddy provided a beautifully done pallet knife piece as the background for my foreground art and we plotted the story together to ensure that it worked for both of us. We had been looking forward to sharing the writing but unfortunately, due to life constraints on her part she was only able to write a little of the fic but what she did add perfectly compliments the tone and style of my writing. 

Big thanks to @tagminibang ) @godsliltippy​ ) for organising this event.

So, here it is, our offering to the TAG Mini Bang. We hope you enjoy it. 

Ting ting ting

“Not again,” Virgil groaned, hauling himself up the stairs from the kitchen to the lounge. He regretted ever giving Gordon that bell, he really did. Yes his brother had gone through a tough time, yes he had scared the hell out of them when the Chaos Crew had left him at the bottom of the ocean in his mangled craft, yes they were incredibly grateful that he was alive and mostly whole, but if they had to hear that dinging one more time they might possibly murder him themselves. 

“Yes, Gordy, what do you need?” 

“I’m lonely, and I’m hungry, come and sit with me for a bit?”

“Sure-”

“But maybe make me a sandwich first?”

“A sandwich?” 

“Yeah, with extra cheese and a pickle on the side, not too large a pickle but not too small that it’s gone in one bite. I want to taste it, you know, but not be overwhelmed.”

“Sure-”

“And can you get me a drink too? One of my special milkyshakes, you know, with the ice cream and frozen banana in it?”

“Coming right up,” Virgil sighed, heading back down to the kitchen again.

“Gordon still demanding everything and anything?” Scott asked as he jogged in from the poolside. His T-shirt was sticking to his chest and his hair was damp with sweat but he still looked like he could do it all again. Not that they would have time, they were lucky if they got to do any planned exercise at all, usually they were forced to skip it and work out on the job when a call came in.

“Of course he is,” Virgil growled, slapping a slice of cheese on a piece of bread with far more force than necessary.

“What did the cheese do to you?”

“It’s guilty by association.”

“Ah,” Scott said, like that explained things perfectly. 

A few slices of chicken received the same treatment and Scott wondered if the meat had actually been dead when it arrived on the island or if Virgil had simply smacked it into submission so well that the chicken had flown clear into next week and arrived as sandwich filling.

“Can you fix his drink?” Virgil asked.

“Can’t gotta shower this off before Grandma accuses me of stinking up the place again.”

“Any excuse,” Virgil scowled. “It would only take you a second.”

“A second too long, bro, I’m escaping while I can and you’d be wise to do the same,” Scott said, heading for the stairs and freedom.

“How can I escape when Gordon needs help?”

“You’re forgetting one important thing,” Scott told him wisely. 

“I am? And that would be…”

“John’s home.”

Virgil snorted out a laugh. “He’s less likely to do it than you are.”

“No, you're misunderstanding me. If John’s home that means…” Scott let his sentence trail off into silence heavily filled with insinuation.

“Sel’s here,” Virgil finished triumphantly, catching on perfectly.

“Give that Tracy a prize,” Scott grinned, shooting triumphant finger guns his brother’s way as he headed up the stairs. 

And they said that John was the genius in the family, they hadn’t seen Scott at his most devious. Virgil wasted no time in yanking out his phone and texting the witch to come and take over.

“Here’s your sammich, Squidward,” Selene cooed, plonking the plate down on Gordon’s lap while smacking a kiss to his forehead. “Virgil started it but I finished it for you, Brains called him down to his lab with some kind of air filter emergency so I took over. I brought you some of those crisps you like from my private stash too.”

“The cheesy curl ones?” Gordon asked hopefully.

“Yep,” she grinned, waggling a family sized bag of Quavers in his general direction.

“Did you bring my drink?” Gordon asked around a mouthful of chickeny goodness. Say what you wanted about Virgil but he made a damn good sandwich, even if Gordon could taste that this was made with a little less love and a little more impatience than usual.

“No, sorry, did you want one? Virgil didn’t say that. I’ll go get you something, just wait right there.”

"Not like I can leave if the mood takes me," Gordon grumbled as he opened the chip bag. 

She was already gone, only to race back in a few moments later with a can of coke.

“What? What’s wrong, boo?” Selene asked when she saw the pouting look of disappointment on Gordon’s face.

“It was supposed to be one of my special milkyshakes,” he whined.

“Right, got it, my bad!”

She was gone again, taking off to the kitchen where, upon closer inspections, she did indeed find the beginnings of a milkshake. There were two scoops of ice cream already in the blender, melting in the warmth of the room. A half peeled banana sat abandoned on the counter next to a carton of milk. 

“Typical,” she groused as she set about breaking up the banana, pouring the milk and setting it to blend as she tidied the mess away. Once done she poured it into a tall glass, added a straw and a few slices of fresh banana to decorate the edges, just as he liked it, and delivered it to the waiting aquanaut.

“Great, thanks, Sel,” he grinned, handing her his now empty plate and swapping it for the glass. She put the plate on the coffee table and sat on the couch opposite him.

“Anything else I can do for you?”

 “Sit with me and keep me company?” he begged, looking so miserable and pathetic that she couldn’t say no.

“Of course I will.” 

Gordon swung his injured leg up and she moved to sit next to him on the couch, placing a cushion on her lap for him to rest his cast covered foot on.

Gordon settled down with a contented sigh, sucking happily on his straw, the milkshake level in the glass steadily dropping.

“I’m bored,” Gordon bitched five minutes later.

“That peace lasted a long time,” Selene laughed, putting her phone down on the side table to give him her full attention. “What can I do to help? Do you want to watch something or play a game?”

Gordon made a face. “You’re crap at games, Sel.”

One eyebrow rose in disbelief. “I wouldn’t exactly say crap…”

“You tried to play with Alan and died three times in two minutes, lost all your lives and were forced to float along behind him as a ghost for the rest of his turn.”

“Anything is crap when you say it like that,” Selene huffed. 

“Only when it’s true.”

“Tell me then, oh great games master, what do you want to do?”

“Nothing.”

“Then don’t moan you’re bored,” she pointed out.

“I mean there’s nothing to do. No one is around.”

Selene gestured to her chest. “Am I suddenly invisible?”

“No, of course not,” he scoffed. “That would be far too cool, why don’t you have witch powers like that?”

“Because I live in the real world, not a movie?”

“Lame,” he declared, dismissing it.

“Back to the original point that I am, in fact, right here. Therefore your comment that no one is around is redundant.”

“I meant no one I can do anything with.”

“Thin ice, bub, thin ice.”

“I meant like my brothers or someone. Alan is busy revising for his final exams, Virgil’s with Brains and I’ve no idea where Scott is but I think he’s avoiding me, which is just mean if you ask me. I’m a delight.”

“Yeah, you sure are,” she drawled, not sounding too convinced. “You’re also forgetting a brother.”

“Who?”

“John? You know, gorgeous ginger love of my life that’s chilling in his room right this minute? That brother?”

“John? No way.”

“What’s wrong with John?” she squawked indignantly. Her man was the most perfect of people, amazing and fabulous, just all round awesome. Although she might be a tad biased.

Gordon shrugged, scrunching his nose up in a ‘meh’ kinda way that said everything and nothing.

“No, come on, tell me what you meant,” she demanded.

“No offence, Sel, but John’s a bit…”

“A bit what?” she asked, her tone warning him that he was in very dangerous territory.

Gordon, with the grace of an elephant and confidence of a man that knew he was injured and therefore wouldn’t get slapped, plowed on.

“A bit boring.”

“Boring?!” she hollered, her voice travelling to the four corners of the island so effectively that Alan lifted his head, wondering if some distant God was echoing his thoughts as he slogged through his history homework.

“How very dare you!” Selene continued, working up a good glare that Gordon was completely immune to. He simply sipped the last of his milkshake, smacked his lips and raised an eyebrow, daring her to do something about it.

“He is not boring.”

“Matter of opinion,” Gordon shrugged, handing her the glass to put down on the table. 

“Right, that’s it, you can besmirch my fun factor but I will not allow you to do so to my man. That’s a step too far.” She gently, for which he was thankful, shoved his leg off her lap and dragged his hover chair over from its spot beside Virgil’s piano.

“Get the hell in, hoppy, we’re going for a ride.”

-x-

"You deal with him, he's driving me nuts and pissing me off at the same time."

"Me? I'm the very picture of perfection, I could never drive anyone nuts."

John declined to comment on that one for fear of never stopping, he had twenty-four years worth of stories after all. 

“The pissing you off is subjective too,” Gordon finished triumphantly. 

"He's your problem now," Selene announced, shoving Gordon's hover chair further into the room before making her escape, slamming the door shut behind her. 

John closed his eyes, praying for patience. His fiancée was well known for her legendary patience when it came to pampering and mothering his family whenever any of them were sick or injured. She'd spent almost every day with Gordon since his run in with the Chaos Crew and had done so with relentless cheer, for her to have given up now was not a good sign. 

"What did you do?" 

"Nothing!" Gordon protested hotly.

"Are you sure?" 

Gordon averted his gaze, suddenly taking great interest in a dust particle dancing across the shaft of sunlight filtering in through the window, "Yes, I'm sure. I wasn't doing anything. That was part of the problem."

"Ah," there it was. "Is there anything I can do to help?" 

"I'm so bored," Gordon wailed. "And your girlfriend is being mean to me."

"Fiancée," John corrected him, not looking up from his work. 

"It's not my fault I hate sitting around doing nothing all day. I’ve gone from a physically and mentally intensive, fifty plus hour a week job, to sitting on my ass from dawn until dusk. Can you blame a guy for getting twitchy?"

"Unfortunately, you don't have much of a choice at the moment," John reminded him, quite needlessly he thought. 

"Gee, thanks for the reminder," Gordon huffed, trying to cross his arms although the cast and sling he was sporting prevented it. That just seemed to annoy him even more. 

"I can't do anything right now! How do you do it?" 

"Do what?" John asked, squinting through his magnifier at the small window frame he was carving from a piece of polymer clay. 

"Just sit around all day."

John raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "I don't sit around all day."

"OK, float around then. It's not like you're actively running around like the rest of us are."

"I'll pretend I never heard you say that," John scowled, wishing Selene had dumped his brother into the sea instead of into his quiet, peaceful room. 

"You're sitting around right now," Gordon pointed out, gesturing to the desk John was  sitting at, which was currently doing double duty as a work table for his latest project. 

"One day you'll learn to appreciate the benefits of a quiet, occupied mind and a still body," John told him. 

Gordon sighed, propping his good elbow on the desktop, his chin resting in his upturned palm as he watched his brother fiddling with tiny things that seemed utterly useless to him. 

"What are you even doing?" 

"Working on a series of book nooks for Sel's side of the bookcase," John answered, sounding slightly distracted as he measured the finished window against its place in an intricately carved brick wall. 

"Why?" 

"Because she likes them."

"I mean why are you making it? Can't you just buy her one? It's not like you can't afford it."

"Where's the challenge in that? Besides, things are always more special when you make them yourself."

Gordon yawned and leant forward to rest his head on the tabletop. 

"Do you want to help?" John offered, although honestly Gordon's version of helping was always patchy at best. 

Gordon scooted closer to look over John's shoulder, eyes darting over the rectangular box that he was building the nook inside. About the size of two thick books sandwiched together, the nook already had a little cobbled street and two shop fronts in place. The tabletop was scattered with a selection of impossibly tiny screwdrivers, picks, scalpels and other instruments of possible torture that he couldn't hope to name. 

"Pass," he announced decisively, flicking the control of his hoverchair so he spun in a wide circle, pointing to the door. "I'm out."

"Peace at last," John sighed, flicking his magnifier back into place over his right eye as he set aside the window to be baked later and reached for a fresh blob of clay. 

-x-

"What ya dooooooing?" Gordon yodelled, slamming the bedroom door open so hard that it smacked into the wall and shook several picture frames. He scooted his way into the room without even waiting for an invite. 

"Gordon!" John huffed, clutching his heart where it was trying to leap out of his chest from the shock of his brother’s sudden, and very noisy, entrance. 

"Hi, I got bored, thought I'd drop in on my favourite big brother," Gordon grinned as he glided his hoverchair closer. 

"Are Scott and Virgil busy?" John asked, that would be the only reason Gordon would have promoted him to his favourite. 

"Yes," Gordon admitted, "but that's not the reason why I'm here."

John turned his head to shoot him a raised eyebrow of doom, clearly communicating without words that he didn't believe him in the slightest. 

"So, what are you doing?" 

"Working on this book nook," John replied patiently, holding up the small cauldron he was crafting. 

"The same one?" 

"Yes."

Gordon’s eyes nearly fell out of his head, "Still? It’s been four days!"

"Yes," John hissed out, starting to get frustrated by the constant questions. 

"Why?" 

"Because it takes a long time. If you're going to do a project you should do it right."

"At the speed you're going it's gonna take forever," Gordon snorted, casting an assessing eye over the work John had already done. 

"That doesn't matter," John assured him. "It's not really about the time it takes or the end result, it's about the process, the journey to get there."

"Sounds lame to me," Gordon yawned. 

"Obviously," John drawled, rolling his eyes. 

"What do you mean by that?" Gordon demanded to know, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. 

"Because it's you."

"Hey! Rude."

"Accurate," John said, placing the little cauldron down and selecting another piece of clay which he placed on a ceramic tile. 

"Why?"

"Because it requires a calm mind. It's good to slow down sometimes and just be still."

"Says the console jockey." 

Console Jockey? He did not just say that!

"So you don't think my job is stressful? Or as tiring and important as yours?" John snapped, wondering if it was bad form to smack your injured brother around the head with a partially constructed book nook. He glanced at the nook, he had put a lot of work into it… It would be a shame to waste it. That thought alone saved Gordon. 

“Well, yeah I get that it might be a bit stressful, but it’s not like you have to do much that puts you in danger, not like us,” Gordon continued, digging his hole even deeper, a hole that John was looking forward to shoving him into.

“We all have our specialities, you couldn’t do your job without me doing mine,” John retorted, trying very hard not to let Gordon’s comments get to him. Gordon would never understand what it was like for him to be stuck so far away from the action, away from his brothers when things were going wrong. 

Gordon, thankfully for him, had been unconscious from the moment he had activated his emergency code. He hadn’t heard the frantic calls going out over the comms as the family mobilized to help him.  He hadn’t heard the desperate scramble as Thunderbirds took off, racing to the scene. But John had heard it all. 

John had been the one to stay on the line with Gordon, talking to him the entire time, knowing that he probably wouldn’t hear it but feeling that he needed to say it all the same. He wanted to know that if his little brother regained consciousness for even a second he would hear a familiar voice, that he would know that they were coming, that they would rescue him. He would know that he wasn’t alone.

 He knew what it was like for people that were in danger, knew the comfort they got from someone talking to them, listening to their stories, being there for them verbally if not physically. John was often the one that spent the most amount of time with those they rescued, keeping their spirits up as much as possible until his brothers got there. 

His brothers were seen by their rescuees as the real heroes, the ones that leapt in and plucked them out of danger, but John was the one that got them that help, the one that made sure the rescue played out as best it could, liaising and coordinating until the job was done. But Virgil, Scott, Gordon and Alan were the ones that got the thanks , the ones that got the hugs after they dropped their charges off, not John. 

Not that he minded too much, he knew that his job was just as important as theirs, maybe even more so because, when someone put out that call for help, when they sent their desperate plea out into the world, they deserved to know that someone would always be listening out for it, that someone would hear and that help would come.

He knew all of this, and he knew that Gordon did too, it was just the frustration of inactivity that was making him say the things that he was. John just wished that that knowledge made it easier to listen to. 

“I might not be doing the physical rescuing,” John continued, feeling the need to push his point home. “But I work just as hard, when you’re home you’re off duty until a call comes in, you can relax, swim, watch movies and laze around until you’re needed. When I’m up there I’m on duty 24/7 and even when I do manage to catch some sleep it’s not deep or particularly restful. Any little noise, any call that triggers the system's keyword algorithm gets transferred automatically, I have to go from asleep to awake in seconds to take it.”

Gordon was quiet for once, watching him closely. John didn’t like it, it made him feel like an exhibit in a zoo. And here we have the little seen Tracy, see how he stays inside his hide and hardly ever ventures out… he knew how they saw him, why they likely thought he had the easy job. 

“These help, they give me something else to focus on. I need to keep my mind active and challenged while still trying to relax.” John paused, trying to think of a way to explain his thinking that Gordon might understand. 

“These are almost like a meditation,” he started. Gordon understood meditation and finding your zone. “Creating something out of almost nothing. It keeps my mind focused, helps with finger dexterity and hand eye coordination with the added bonus of it relaxing me. It’s good to slow down and take some time to do something creative, you should try it some time.” 

Gordon listened to his brother and he tried to take in all his words, he tried to understand the meaning behind them, he really did, but it just didn’t make any sense to him. He understood about wanting to be lazy, to sit around and do nothing sometimes. He loved to laze on the couch with his snackies and an Into the Unknown marathon playing out on the holoscreen, but that was watching something exciting, interesting, to him that was relaxing. This...whatever it was that John was actually doing, made no sense whatsoever to him. The idea of trying to relax by actually thinking...that was the most alien concept of all. 

Gordon knew, probably better than his family gave him credit for, what it was like to be mislabelled. Within every sibling pool, there were the mandatory roles: the serious one, the caring one, the smart one, the funny one, the calm one, the angry one, the one who sang in the shower, et cetera. He’d proudly embraced the role of ‘the funny one’, and had diligently flown the flag for the humour camp for as long as he could remember. If a brother came home from a rescue in a slump and needed a cheery pick-me-up, it was Gordon who stepped up to the task, irrespective of his own mood. His smile and laugh were infectious, and he had yet to encounter a frown he couldn’t (eventually) turn upside down.

But with every ‘role’ came misconceptions. Scott was serious, therefore people were quick to automatically assume that he was a killjoy.  Similarly, John’s intellect and preference for solitude often went hand in hand with him being branded antisocial, since there was apparently no possible way someone could enjoy their own company so much, yet still pursue and maintain meaningful relationships with actual people.

Gordon was no stranger to this treatment. He liked to laugh and be spontaneous, and consequently, was often regarded as the Tracy who didn’t take his work seriously, the Tracy who had the attention span of a gnat (albeit a very handsome one), and the Tracy who couldn’t be trusted with anything that required delicacy, be it physical or emotional. His affinity for making people laugh, though an exceptional quality, frequently acted as a double-edged sword. On the one hand, his relentless optimism made him the most effective of the bunch when it came to emergencies involving children and young adults. On the other hand, it sentenced him to a fate where the bad jokes he cracked would always be two steps ahead of the secret deep thinker that lay within.

“Let me see it again,” Gordon sighed, trying his best to be a supportive and understanding brother, since he did feel a little bad about the things he had just said. He hadn’t meant to say them, they had just come out. That was the trouble with being laid up from an injury, not only were you out of action but you were in pain, and pain made you grumpy and less likely to monitor the things that came out of your mouth the way you should.

He knew that John worked hard, hell he knew that what his brother had said was right, John was never truly off duty. They were all aware that he didn’t get enough sleep, enough down time, enough time to relax and just be. They knew that if John was on Five he would consider himself on duty, at work, and therefore he’d never allow himself to take time out. Things had changed since Selene had blundered her way into his life, now he spent a lot more time on the Island, which meant that he was finally taking some time out for himself. If one of the ways he chose to do that was by crafting ridiculously tiny things out of clay to stick in a hollowed out box that was his business. Gordon wasn’t there to judge, he was there to spend time with his brother.

John moved aside a little so Gordon could get a closer look, trying to resist the urge to smack his hand away every time Gordon reached for a tiny piece that had taken him hours to perfect. 

“These are really small,” Gordon mused, poking at a window that John had just finished painting, leaving behind a smudged fingerprint. “Woops, sorry, Bro.”

“Maybe you should try making something of your own,“ John suggested, carefully removing the window from his brother's possession and picking up a brush in order to attempt a fix.

Gordon nodded and John passed him a ceramic tile and a miniature rolling pin. 

“How about you try cutting me out a few shop sign bases?” John suggested.

“Do I get one of those scalpel things?” Gordon asked, a little too eagerly for John’s liking.

“Maybe we can work up to that,” John hedged, subtly moving the scalpel out of his brother’s reach and passing him a square cookie cutter. “Use this cutter for now.”

Gordon shrugged and spent a few minutes rolling and squishing the clay trying to get the thickness to the exact measurement that John insisted on. It wasn’t easy or fun.

“Nope!” Gordon announced, giving up and pushing the tile away. “It’s still boring. Pass.”

He swung his hoverchair around and headed in the direction of the door. “Later, Bro.”

“Oh...OK...later, I guess,” John stuttered, wondering just what he had done to deserve such a chaotic family as his.

“Oh, hey, boo, where are you go- WAHH!”

John’s head shot up as Selene’s yelp rang out from the hallway.

“Sorry!” 

“So you should be, you little shit,” she grumbled to his retreating back as she thumped into the room.

“What happened, love?”

“Let’s just say that if his chair had wheels I’d have lost a few toes,” she said, wincing in imagined pain. 

John scooted his desk chair back and patted his lap in offer, one that she happily accepted.

“So, why was Gordy doing his boy racer bit? What did you say to him?”

“Me? What makes you think I said anything to him?”

“Because I know you two?” 

“Fair,” he sighed, sliding his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. “I don’t know what to do to help him.”

Selene turned her head to look at him, not liking the helpless look on his face.

“Babe, you are helping him, you’re there to keep him company or talk to him if he needs it, that’s more important than anything. What happened to make you think that you weren’t helping?”

“He was asking me about these again,” John nodded towards his work area on the desktop. “But he didn’t seem to understand, that or he just didn’t want to.”

“He’s Gordon,” she sighed. “You know what he’s like, he’s full on, he’s in your face and he’s not at all subtle. Taking his time with things just doesn’t compute with him.”

“It would do him good though, if he doesn’t learn to embrace it he’ll be exactly the same as he was last time.”

“Was he really that bad?” she asked, concern lacing her voice. 

John nodded. “He doesn’t do inactivity well. When he had his hydrofoil accident his therapist talked him into signing up for a virtual college degree in Environmental Management of Rivers and Wetlands. It was supposed to take him at least a year as a part time course with ANU in Canberra, but he blew through it in the first semester and earned himself a distinction for his insights on the impact of Anthropogenic Noise on Wetland Habitats. His professor was so impressed he offered him a fully funded PhD, citing his time with WASP and the time he spent in the bathyscaphe as practical experience that would make up for his lack of degree. Obviously he turned it down, but he still likes to rub our faces in it now and then.”

“Wow,” Selene breathed. “Forget his professor being impressed, I’m impressed.”

“He has a phenomenal brain,” John said, a small but very proud smile on his face. “When he actually decides to use it to its full potential, that is. There is nothing he can't do when he chooses to focus on something, he’s all in. It really helped him to feel like he was gaining something and moving forward even though he was sitting still.”

Selene nodded, understanding completely. She knew that all of her boys were wicked smart, but Gordon always presented himself as the least academic. He was more of a doer, wanting to be out in the field, learning as he went, diving in head first to every situation. 

But as Selene and John both knew, appearances could be deceiving.

“If that’s what helped him last time, then we need to find a way to convince him to try something new,” Selene insisted. 

“I tried, he’s not interested.”

“That was with your things, babe. We need to find something that’s a little more him, and I think I know just the thing.”

-x-

“I have arrived!” Gordon yodelled, announcing his entrance in his own unique way. He slid his hover chair in through the open door like the boss that he was, bringing his shining presence in to brighten up his middle brother's obviously dull existence. “Didja miss me?”

“Like a hole in the head,” John grumbled, turning to look at the grinning face of his brother. His eyes immediately began to water as they were assaulted by the far too bright colours of the shirt Gordon was wearing, a tie dyed monstrosity that Selene had made for him for his birthday. 

“A little more gratitude, if you please," Gordon huffed. 

“Grandma finally released you?”

“Yep,” Gordon stretched out his injured leg and patted the air cast on his now slingless arm. “Got time off for good behaviour.”

“I find that hard to believe,” John teased, then nodded to Gordon’s arm. “How’s it feeling?”

“Not too bad, my grip still isn't great but Grandma promised me that once the bone has finished knitting I’ll just need to exercise it and build the muscle strength up, then it’ll be as good as new.”

“That’s great, it won't be long before you're able to go back out with Virgil and stop, how did Sel put it, 'haunting the house like the ghost of Christmas future'?"

"Can't come soon enough," Gordon sighed, butting his chair right up close to John's, knocking his arm in the process. "What you do- you're still doing that? Still? It's been a week!" 

"It's not like I get a huge amount of down time," John pointed out. "I'm only here now because Sel said she'd dump me if I didn't make an effort to come down earlier in the evenings so I could actually eat a meal with you all."

"You actually believed that threat?" Gordon laughed. 

"Of course not, she'd never dump me, but I thought I had better humour her and let her feel like she at least had a little sway," John shrugged, pushing aside the little piece of doorstep he had been painting. "Honestly, it's nice to come down for a meal and family time, I hadn't realised how much I'd missed it until it was happening again."

"I guess we all got a bit too caught up in International Rescue after we lost Dad," Gordon admitted. 

"Like we had nothing else in our lives," John nodded, completely understanding. 

"Yep."

Gordon fell silent and John let him, concentrating on mixing the perfect colour acrylic to add a few highlights to his stones. 

"Can I have a go at making something? I bet I could do it quicker than you," Gordon asked, reaching towards what Selene called the sharps tub. John smacked the lid down on it just in time. 

"Actually, we got you a present."

"You did?" Instantly distracted, Gordon sat up straighter, excited by the prospect of a gift. "What did you get me?" 

This," John answered, opening his desk drawer and extracting an interestingly shaped bottle, upright with a thicker, rounded bottom and a thinner neck, ending a cork stopper. 

"Wow, is that an original?" Gordon asked, taking the bottle carefully and turning it to  study it from all angles. He knew exactly what this shaped bottle was, there had been a collection of them in Commander Shore’s office that he would stare at every time he got called in for some reprimand or another.

"19th century," John nodded. "Sel found it in a little shop in Mayfair. They assured her it was a genuine, used on a ship, captain's decanter from around the time of the civil war. They hadn’t fully traced it when Sel bought it but they think it came from one of the ships that fought in one of the smaller skirmishes around 1861.”

“This is really cool, thanks,” Gordon smiled, still turning the bottle over and over.

“It’s to hold this,” John continued, drawing Gordon’s attention back to him.

Grinning, John delved back into his desk drawer and pulled out a rather faded and quite dusty box. He brushed the dirt off the top and slid it over to Gordon. 

"A ship?" Gordon frowned. 

"Yep, Selene and I thought that you needed a little project of your own, so she had the idea to get you a ship in a bottle. You don’t see them a lot these days, but apparently her Grandfather had a couple and they always fascinated her.”

“So you put the ship in the bottle?”

“Yep, instructions are inside, go nuts.”

“Pfft, instructions,” Gordon snorted. “No one needs instructions, they’re a waste of time.”

-x-

“Ouch,” John hissed, hopping in place on one foot as he bent down to pick up what looked to be a tiny piece of mast that had attacked the sole of his foot. “Gordon, why are there bits of ship all over my floor?”

“Because I dropped them,” Gordon replied, his voice muffled due to the tongue of concentration that was peeking out from between his teeth.

Huffing, John gathered all the pieces off the floor, both pieces of ship and bits that they had been cut out of, and deposited them on the desk next to Gordon.

“How’s it coming along?” John asked, settling in his own chair. He’d only been gone a day but Gordon had managed to take over the entire bedroom, spreading his belongings, bottles, snack wrappers, his phone and a discarded hoodie, all over the place, as well as half the contents of the vintage ship box.

“It’s ridiculous. I think it’s missing pieces or something, it’s broken.”

“Well it was an old kit, but we were assured that it was complete,” John frowned, sliding the tray over that Gordon was supposed to be storing all the pieces in. “Have you checked the contents list and matched each piece to make sure they’re all there?”

Gordon looked at him blankly, like he was talking a foreign language.

“Did you check that everything was there before you started?" John elaborated.

“Of course I did,” Gordon promised, crossing his fingers and hoping his brother didn’t see. 

“Against the list?” John clarified.

“I eyeballed it, OK?”

“Not good enough,” John insisted. “That’s not how you go about doing things like this, you can’t just slap them together and hope for the best.”

“Why not?” Gordon whined. It worked for him in almost everything else he did in life. 

“Because this happens," John gestured to the mess surrounding them.

“Fine, I’ll read the damn instructions.”

Leaving Gordon to it John slid his almost completed book nook over and picked up his paintbrush to start adding some finishing touches before he started on the wiring for the lights. He’d barely done more than five minutes when Gordon started huffing.

John waited a little longer, trying his hardest to ignore the ever increasing sounds of frustration and impatience from his brother. In the end he couldn't stand it a moment longer, he had to ask the most loaded question ever.

“What’s the problem?” John asked, pushing his own work aside.

“These instructions don’t make sense,” Gordon bitched, flapping the paper in John’s face. “Look at the little picture here, you have to stick this little pole into that hole in the deck but the deck doesn’t want to stay together and that piece there keeps sliding and the pictures make no sense.”

“That’s because you missed around eight steps in between,” John told him, praying for patience. 

“No I didn't, I followed the pictures exactly,” Gordon insisted. 

“The steps aren’t in the pictures,” John explained. “See right there?” he pointed to the words above the pictures. “The pictures are a diagram of each finished stage, not how to get there. They are for reference only, not instructions.”

“Urghhh, this is going to take forever,” Gordon pouted, crossing his arms. “What’s the point?”

“The point is that by the end of it you’ll have something unique that no one else does, something you can be proud of and know that you built with your own two hands.”

“I’m not sure it’s worth the effort,” Gordon muttered.

“It is,” John promised. “I’ll help. How about I read out the instructions and you follow along? We’ll get through it quicker that way.”

Gordon wasn’t convinced, but John looked so hopeful that he didn’t have the heart to refuse him, especially since he and Selene had gone to so much trouble to get the things for him in the first place. He might be a miserable little sod, but he wasn’t that ungrateful. He knew that they had gone out of their way to get something they thought he’d like, the least he could do was make the thing, even if he knew he wouldn’t enjoy it. Maybe John was right, working together they could get through it quicker, and that could only be a good thing.

“Alright,” Gordon agreed, “let’s give it a go.”

Slowly, methodically, John read out each piece that was needed and Gordon located them, storing them neatly in a wooden box that Selene provided when she popped in to bring them drinks an hour or so later. She stayed just long enough to steal a kiss from John and drop one on the top of Gordon’s head before she beat a hasty retreat, not wanting to get roped into helping. She wasn’t the best at following instructions and didn’t want to get grumped at.

By the time they had all the pieces checked and catalogued they had discovered there were indeed two pieces missing, but thankfully they were easy fixes, just a small , round piece of wood to represent a porthole, which they could easily make a replacement for and a piece of mast. One snipped toothpick later and that was sorted too.

John started with the first set of instructions, reading them out patiently as Gordon found and fitted them together. 

“So, how’s work been?” Gordon asked, like a chatty hairstylist, as he carefully dipped the end of a thin dowel into a small pot of wood glue. 

“Same as ever,” John deadpanned, “a bunch of idiots that got themselves into trouble and needed help, and only half of them related to us.”

Gordon sniggered, glancing at John, seeing the sly smile on his brother’s face. He’d forgotten just how amusing John could be when he delivered something sarcastically witty with such a serious tone. Gordon hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it, wondering just what his more serious brother would come out with next. John was always like that, he seemed so quiet and reserved but, when he was relaxed and in company he was comfortable with he’d take you by surprise by letting loose a zinger that you couldn’t help but laugh at.

“Let’s not talk about work,” Gordon suggested, “we haven’t hung out properly in ages, you’re either up in Five or there are other people around.”

“Is that your way of saying you’ve missed me?” John teased.

“Maybe,” Gordon allowed, “but if you ever tell anyone I said that I’ll deny it and tell Grandma you want her to make your birthday cake this year.”

John held his hands up in surrender, although he couldn’t hold in the laugh that bubbled up as he reached for the instructions again.

“OK, let’s get this done before we stop enjoying each other’s company.”

They worked slowly but steadily over the next few hours, putting together the structure for the first mast. Once it was done they called it quits and abandoned it for another day, the smell of something tasty coming from the kitchen proving to be too much to ignore.

-x-

 “Gordon, that’s my finger.”

“Oh, sorry, can you just like… I don’t know, yank it off?”

“If I wish to leave half my identifying fingerprints behind, yes.”

“Do you really need them?”

John didn’t dignify that with an answer, the look he threw at his brother communicated his thoughts perfectly. 

“OK, OK, I’ll get some dissolver from Virgil’s studio, wait right there,” Gordon instructed him, grabbing his crutches and hobbling his way out of the room. 

John sighed, keeping his hand perfectly still, the hull of the boat dangling from his fingertip. He was still there five minutes later when Gordon clumped his way back in, Selene hot on his heels. She had the glue dissolver under one arm, a large bag of chips under the other and a plate of sandwiches in each hand. 

She dumped the plates on the desk, then the chips, before turning to see the state her fiancé was in.

“Do I even want to know?” 

“Probably not,” Gordon winced, dropping down into his abandoned desk chair and reaching for a plate.

“Can you at least help me before you start stuffing your face?” John asked, waggling his hand, which made the boat sway violently from side to side.

“Can’t, eating,” Gordon mumbled around the massive mouthful he had just taken.

“What did I say?” she demanded to know. “No hurting the hands, you know how I feel about that.” 

John wiggled his fingers again, drawing her attention to his plight. He looked so pathetic with the half built little ship swinging from his hand that Selene took pity on him, intervening when he looked like he was about to grab the thing and yank it off himself, fingerprints be damned.

“Oh for the love of the Gods, let me do it!” Taking his hand she used a paintbrush to smear glue dissolver around the area of skin it was stuck to. She took her time, rewetting and using the brush bristles to push the dissolver under the boat, trying to  ease it free from his skin with minimal pulling.

“Thank you,” he sighed, sitting patiently while she worked. Thankfully it didn’t take her too long, although it took a lot of cursing under her breath and the odd ouch from him to get there. 

“One boat,” she announced, placing it triumphantly on the desk. 

“Fanks,” Gordon said, spraying chip crumbs as he did so.

“Welcome,” she said, brushing at her leg which had unfortunately been in splatter range. Still holding John’s hand she bestowed a kiss to each of his abused digits before releasing him. 

“Right, I’m out of here. Play nicely, you two, I don’t want to have to send Grandma in to babysit you both.”

“It won’t come to that,” John assured her, reaching for his own sandwich. “We’ve not got much left to do now. We just have to attach the rigging to the masts, check that they fold properly then insert th-”

“I’m out, I don’t need to hear anything about insertion, not after you just glued a boat to your hand,” Selene declared, her exit swift and to the point, the door shutting firmly behind her.

“She has a point,” Gordon admitted, swallowing his last bite. He pushed the chip bag in John’s direction, although there was barely more than a handful and a few crumbs left in it. 

“But we’ll never admit it to her face,” John insisted, steadily munching through the large sub she had brought for him. 

“Never,” Gordon agreed. 

-x- 

Gordon sighed dramatically as he crutched his way down the hall from his bedroom. John’s bedroom door was open but his brother wasn’t inside. The ship, now fully rigged, sat beside the bottle on the desk, just waiting to be placed inside once some sand had been poured in as a base. Gordon had chosen all different shades of blue to represent the sea and had even watched a few videos on how to do sand pouring art, something he’d never expected to find even remotely interesting, yet he couldn’t bring himself to go in and make a start on it.

John had barely been home the past week and when he had it had only been for food and enforced sleep. Even then he had been known to sneak out of bed the second Selene was asleep, being discovered on numerous occasions sitting at their father’s desk until the small hours working on this, that or the other. 

Emergencies, and therefore the need for their services, had seemed to increase three fold, something Selene was blaming on the moon phase and mercury going retrograde and, for want of a better explanation, they were all inclined to agree. There was no rhyme or reason for the surge in idiots that were calling in at all hours of the day and night with trucks caught under a too low bridge causing a pile up, hands stuck down toilets, drunks climbing to the top of electricity pylons and repair men getting trapped inside ATM machines they had been fixing.

His brothers had been on the go near constantly, whether it was from rescue call outs or working on their plan to find their father,  but none more so than John. While Selene had always been good at what she liked to call Tracy Wrangling, none more so that when she was dealing with a stressed out Scott, even she had admitted defeat and left them to their own devices. Self preservation was key after all. 

John had been dealing with not only rescue calls and Chaos Crew sightings, but signal tracking, GDF liaising and general hoop jumping, all of which had kept him far too busy.

It had been over a week since they had done anything to their project and Gordon was feeling the loss. Not so much of the project, although that really had helped with his frustrations at his lack of physical ability, not that he would ever admit that to John, but in spending time with his brother.

Much to his surprise he’d found that he was reluctant to work on it alone, it had become their thing to do together. It was a time where they would hang out, shoot the shit, reminisce about childhood memories, times that they had spent together talking about their hope for the future where they would find their father alive and bring him home.

Both of them knew that it wouldn’t be easy, that if they did manage to find him there would be no telling what physical or mental state he would be in. Gordon knew from experience just how tough physical injury, limitations, and recovery could be on the mind and the body,  especially in someone who had been as active and viril as Jeff Tracy. 

They all knew, although no one seemed to want to talk about it, that as hard as it was going to be to actually locate him and hopefully bring him home, that would only be the beginning of what could potentially be an incredibly long and difficult journey of rehabilitation and reintegration into the family and the world as a whole. 

John had been right, taking some time to be quiet, to slow down and think while keeping your mind and hands busy really was a productive way to spend your rest hours and, stupid as it sounded, Gordon didn’t really want that to end. 

He was only a week or two away from potential cast removal and a return to physical activities like his beloved swimming and strength training in their home gym and, while he couldn’t wait to get back to it, he knew he’d feel the loss of his enforced quiet time. 

He glanced again at the abandoned ship on the desk and turned away, clumping down the hall towards the stairs. So it would take them a little longer to get it finished, Gordon was fine with that because for once he wasn’t feeling the need to rush.

-x-

“Remember to pour it slowly,” Gordon instructed as he held the funnel in place, its long pipe reaching right down into the bottom of the jar. “Start with the darkest one, that’s going to be our base colour.”

“I’ve got it,” John assured him, selecting the tub of midnight blue sand and scooping some out into a smaller pot to make things easier. At Gordon’s nod he began to slowly and steadily pour the sand into the open neck of the funnel. As he watched Gordon expertly directed the tube, allowing the sand to pour out to pool in the bottom of the bottle.

At Gordon’s signal John stopped pouring and waited while Gordon carefully removed the tube and used a long metal skewer to poke and prod the sand into something that looked vaguely like waves.

“The next colour up,” Gordon requested and John did as he was asked. They repeated the process four more times with different shades of blue, John pouring in a little at a time, Gordon directing the tube to deposit  more in one place than others, mimicking the movement of sea waves as best they could. In between each layer Gordon used the skewer to poke and mix the colours here and there, blending the layers into a smoother transition.

“That’ll do,” Gordon said confidently, twisting the bottle so John could see the full effect. 

John had to admit that he had been pleasantly surprised when Gordon had announced that he had ordered some coloured sand and looked up how to do sand art on the internet. He hadn’t really known what to expect, although he would admit, if only to himself, that he had thought that Gordon would be a little heavy handed and impatient, but once again he had proved him wrong. He really had done his research and the result was a beautiful mix of colours that really did give a perfect impression of a gently moving sea.

“That’s looking great.”

“I know,” Gordon grinned, modest as always. “Where’s that resin gone?”

“Here,” John answered, pushing it across the desk towards his brother. “Make sure you read the instructions and measure the amounts accurately or it won’t set and you’ll ruin the sand and the bottle.”

“Yeah, yeah I got this,” Gordon assured him as he did indeed read the instructions through properly. Once he had familiarised himself with the ratio of resin to hardener, he measured carefully and poured them into a mixing jug. Once it was fully mixed he slowly, gently, poured the mixture a little at a time into the bottle on top of the sand. With each little pour he waited for the resin to trickle down between the grains, slowly adding to it until all the sand was covered. 

“And now we wait,” John said, carefully placing the bottle in the patch of bright sunlight coming in through the window. 

“Wanna watch a movie?” Gordon offered casually, not really expecting his brother to agree. John hardly ever watched anything with just him, they had vastly different tastes in movies and John usually made some polite excuse to escape.

“Sure, sounds good.”

“Really?” Gordon goggled, his eyes almost falling out of his head. “You don’t have anything more important to do?”

“More important than watching a movie with my little brother? I don’t think so,” John grinned, retrieving Gordon’s crutches from where they were leaning against his bookshelf and tossing them to him one by one. “Come on, last one to the lounge picks the movie.”

“Hey, no fair!” Gordon yelled, scrambling to his feet as he fumbled with his crutches. “You’ve got legs like a giraffe and neither of them are broken!”

“Sucks to be you,” John tossed over his shoulder as he took off down the hall to victory.

-x-

“Careful,” John warned.

“I am being careful,” Gordon snapped. “I got this.”

“Your hand’s shaking.”

“Thanks for that, Captain Obvious.” He steadied his, only slightly shaky, hand by propping his elbow on the desk for stability. “OK, let’s do this.”

They both held their breath as Gordon maneuvered the body of the boat through the opening in the bottle, making sure each sail stayed carefully folded down and the strings remained untangled before he fed it down the neck and into the bottle.

“Phase one, complete,” John intoned in such a serious voice that Gordon couldn’t help the laugh that he snorted out.

“Pass me those long nosed tweezers?” Gordon asked, holding out a hand.

John slapped the requested instrument into his brother's hand like a nurse in an operating theater, provoking another burst of laughter.

“Thanks.” 

“Welcome.”

Making sure the strings of the sails were still dangling outside of the bottle, Gordon carefully moved the body of the boat further down into the bottle with the metal skewer until the stern touched the top of the resin and sand layer. 

“Now the sails,” Gordon whispered, hardly daring to breathe as John moved in to help, taking over the holding of the strings while Gordon reached in with the tweezers.

Gently, working together, they started the delicate process of tugging gently on each string, unfolding the paper sails and locking them in place.

“String one.”

“Got it. Watch number four sail.”

“Yep, thanks...OK… can you just give string five a little pull? Perfect.”

“Sail three is flopping!”

“Gah, hang on, just got to tighten that...yep that’s got it.”

“Maybe if I gather…”

“Yep, that’s good, do that again.”

“This next bit is going to require a delicate touch, maybe I should-”

“Hey! I can be delicate!”

“It’s not coming up...back sail two is stuck, release it...careful!”

“There, saved it.”

John gently pulled the strings a little more and there it was, their ship, sails proudly upright and everything. He kept hold of the strings, while Gordon held on to the boat with the tweezers as they carefully lifted the bottle from its side to its proper upright position.

Using the skewer John maneuvered around Gordon’s hand and nudged the boat into a better position before he carefully released the strings. They both held their breath, hoping and praying that the sails wouldn't collapse the second the strings fell. 

The boat, with its sails, stayed strong.

“Yes!” Gordon cheered, holding up his free hand for a high five, grinning when his brother’s palm smacked against his own.

“Scalpel,” Gordon joked as John handed it to him so they could lop off a little of the trailing strings. Then, using the skewer, they arranged the strings around the edges of the boat. 

With the boat finally upright and in place, they added another layer of light blue coloured sand with a sprinkling of white to mimic the tips of the waves. They finished it off by pouring in a little more resin, both to set the sand and hold the boat in place, using the tweezers to make sure it was correctly positioned.

“Phew,” Gordon breathed, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his cast covered leg. “We did it. Go team.”

“We did,” John smiled. “And it looks damn good.”

“It really does,” Gordon agreed, shifting his head to look at the bottle from all angles. 

“Nothing left to do but let it dry and put the stopper in,” John said. “How do you feel now it’s done? Was it worth the time?”

“I still think we could have done it a lot faster if you’d just let me skip a few steps in the instructions and do it my way, but it wasn’t that bad,” Gordon admitted. “I’m oddly proud of it.”

“You should be, you did good,” John leant back in his chair, crossing his arms as he relaxed. “Are you going to stop teasing me about my book nooks now?”

“Pssh, no,” Gordon snorted. “Ships are cool, yours will always be boring.”

He didn’t see the bottle of water coming until it was too late.

-x-

Gordon walked straight to John’s room from the infirmary,  feeling oddly free without his crutches and casts. Six weeks was a long time, after all.

The bottle with its little ship sat exactly where they had left it in the center of John’s desk next to the abandoned book nook that was still not finished. It took him very little time to insert the cork stopper and pour a little of Selene’s spell bottle sealing wax around the top, a bright, cheery yellow wax that matched his beloved Thunderbird Four.

He smiled as he thought of his little craft, waiting down in her dock for him, ready to be taken out when the next call came in. It had been a long and frustrating time but finally, blessedly, that time was over.

He poked an experimental finger into the wax seal, checking that it had set properly. It had, and he couldn’t help feeling a little sad about it. It had been a project that at first he’d had very little interest in, but slowly it had turned into so much more. Not just something to wile away a few hours but a chance for him to reconnect with the brother he spent the least amount of time with. 

Years ago, back when he had been small, John had been his everything. When Alan had been too tiny to be of any use and Scott and Virgil had been too old to be bothered with him hanging around, it had been John that had been there for him. It was John that had patiently listened as he read aloud from his sealife books, who had watched movies with him, played with him, and spent the most amount of time with him. Back then, their three year age difference had seemed like so little but so much at the same time, an older brother that made him feel wanted and included when the other two saw him as an annoyance.

Gordon couldn’t quite put his finger on when things had changed, when they had slowly drifted apart. John had seemed to grow up so much faster than he had, Alan had welded himself to his side, looking up to Gordon as he had to John  and things had never been the same again. 

It had been too long since they had been able to just hang out, to laugh, to tease each other without things going too far and one of them getting annoyed. It had been nice and Gordon had realised that he didn’t want to go back to nothing but hollocalls to Five when an emergency came in or the odd family dinner and movie night where he had to share with the rest of the family. John was the only brother that Gordon didn’t spend one on one time with as standard and he realised that, no matter how much he might blame it on John being so far away, in reality it was as much his fault as John’s.

Gordon picked up the bottle, leaving a box in its place. The model kit of the Mercury Project space capsule and its launch pad had been hard to find even with his junker contacts. In fact, he had almost given up and  admitted defeat before he'd thought to look at the label on his ship box and sent the shop owner an email.

Smiling to himself, knowing that there was no way John would be able to resist that challenge, he took the finished bottle, with its little ship, to his room where it would take pride of place on his bookshelf, a constant reminder that even in the worst of times, positivity could still be found.

“Thanks, Bro.”

[whumpwriterforlife]

Your writing is always so amazing! There are so many of the bingo prompts that I would love to see what you do with, but I'll narrow it down. Could you please try stalking with Nyx? You write him so well, and as my current favorite character, I love seeing him put through the wringer. Thanks! <3

Why hello there! This is all your fault. Have 9k words of Stalking <3

Feat: Love confessions, soft moments and protective friends

Stalking

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Characters: Nyx Ulric, Cor Leonis, Libertus Ostium, Crowe Altius, Titus Drautos

Whumpee: Nyx Ulric (some Cor Leonis)

Word Count: 9190 (a.k.a HUGE)

Warnings: Gun violence, creepy stalker

Can be read on AO3 here

--

The date night was a success. This time it had been Nyx’s turn to choose the place, so he had taken Cor to Yama-chan’s. The food there was quite tame compared to the usual Galahdian foods so even Cor had survived that. It had been a fun and relaxing evening, one that was unfortunately coming to a close now.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,'' Nyx said, pressing a quick kiss to Cor’s cheek before getting out of the car. He wished they didn’t have to call it a night just yet but they both had to show up at work early in the morning. Nyx especially had gotten his own share of reprimands for coming in late or with a wrinkled uniform in the past, and he was dangerously close to the point of getting himself assigned on gate duty. Again.

One side of Cor’s lips twitched into a smile. “You’re not going to invite me in?”

“You know damn well we won’t be getting any sleep tonight if I do that.” Nyx huffed a laugh as he leaned in through the open window. Not that he would mind. “Besides, I think we should save some mystique for the relationship...don’t you?”

Cor snorted and twisted in his seat so Nyx could see just how unimpressed he was. “You just don’t want me to see what a mess your piece of shit apartment is.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Mystique, remember?” Nyx said as he stepped away from the car. “And your car stands out. It won’t be here in the morning if you leave it unattended.”

Cor made a face. “You need to move into a better neighborhood.”

Nyx shrugged. “I like it here.”

Cor gave him a dubious look but didn’t comment on it. “If you’re not inviting me in… I’ll be back to pick you up in the morning. Around seven?”

Nyx smiled at him. He had tried telling Cor he would take the subway, it was free for Glaives in uniform after all, but there was no changing Cor’s mind when he had decided to do something. ”Sounds good.”

They exchanged a few more words but then Cor was off. The smile stayed on Nyx’s lips as he made his way inside. It had been a really good night. There was so much more to Cor than he had ever thought. He made him feel good in a way no one else did. Gods, Nyx was really falling for him hard, there was no doubt about it.

Nyx hummed an old Galahdian song under his breath as he unlocked his door and stepped inside. He tossed his keys onto his desk and was in the process of taking off his jacket when he saw the giant letters on the wall above his bed.

He’s not good enough for you

Nyx’s blood ran cold. In a flash of blue there was a kukri in his hand. His apartment was small, there were few places for someone to hide in there. A quick sweep of the place revealed nothing. No items out of place — which was a minor miracle considering how frequent that had been in the past weeks — and no intruders.

“What the fuck?” Nyx walked over to the… message. The paint was still fresh and left a dark smudge on his finger when touched it. It couldn’t have been made that long ago, not with the way the smell was strong in the air as well. Nyx ran a hand through his hair and swore. There was definitely something shady going on.

The door had been locked. No one should have been able to get in, not unless they already had a key. Libertus was the only one with a copy of his key and Nyx knew he wouldn’t do something like this, none of his friends would. Somehow someone had gotten into his apartment though, possibly multiple times.

Nyx sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and pulled out his phone. He chose the first number on the speed dial and waited.

The line crackled to life a few moments later with the disgruntled voice of his best friend. “Nyx? What the hell are you calling me at this time for, you know we got an early shift tomorrow!”

“Sorry, big guy, but this is kind of important.” Nyx said, bouncing his leg up and down restlessly. ”You have the key to my apartment?”

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a huff from Libertus.“Don’t tell me you lost your key again.”

Nyx snorted with laughter despite the situation. Of course Libertus was never going to let him forget that one. ”No, not this time. I just need to know if you still have the key.”

“Why? What’s going on Nyx?” Libertus’ voice changed, a hint of confusion mixed with suspicion seeping into it. Nyx’s lips twitched up a tiny bit. Libertus had always had an ability, a sixth sense of some sort, to tell when something wasn’t right with him.

“You know how I told you about how my stuff keeps disappearing and all that?” Nyx asked as his gaze flickered back to the message. Just the sight of it made his skin crawl.

“Yeah?”

“I just came home and someone’s left a message on my wall,” Nyx said.

“Left a message… Nyx what’s going on?” Libertus asked, alarmed.

Nyx ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. He really hoped this was someone playing an idiotic prank on him and nothing more. “I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you about the key. Do you still have it?”

“Yeah, I have the key,” Libertus told him and a moment later Nyx heard a door slam shut in the background. “I’ll be there in five, don’t do anything stupid.”

Then he hung up.

Nyx tossed his phone to the side and buried his head into his hands. This was messed up.

Libertus arrived exactly five minutes later, bursting through the door without bothering to knock. Nyx would’ve rolled his eyes if he hadn’t already been on edge because of the whole thing. He dropped his hands and watched as Libertus kicked off his shoes and eyed the apartment with a frown.

“What the fuck?” Libertus hissed as he saw the message. Nyx could see the exact moment he slipped into the ‘protective older brother’ mode with the way his shoulders tensed and eyes narrowed. “And you have no idea who could’ve done this?”

Nyx shook his head. “I locked the door before I left. You’re the only other person with a key.”

“Shit. There were no signs of forced entry?” Libertus asked and turned to look at him. “And what about your landlord? They should have a key.”

“My landlady is a sweet 80-year-old woman, she would never do anything like this.” Nyx snorted but grew serious fast. “Whoever got in here had to have a key though.”

Libertus sat down next to him, the bed creaking under them. “You think this has something to do with your stuff going missing?”

Nyx shrugged. “It would explain it. If someone has gotten access to my apartment, they could’ve easily taken my stuff too.”

“But why? Why would someone do that — this? It makes no sense.” Libertus made a disgruntled sound.

Nyx flopped onto his back and groaned. “I don’t know.”

Neither of them said anything for a while. Nyx didn’t know what he was going to do. The cops wouldn’t be any help. There was no real evidence of a break-in and, well, the cops weren’t exactly all that interested in what went down in the refugee district. That meant he would have to figure it out himself. Libertus and Crowe would most likely help, maybe even a few other glaives if he asked. Cor, too, possibly but Nyx didn’t want to bring that kind of pressure on their thing when they had only known each other for a few months.

“You can’t stay here.” Libertus said a few minutes later, breaking the silence.

“Lib,” Nyx began as he craned his head to look at his friend.

Libertus threw his hands in the air and growled. “Nyx, you’ve got to be kidding me! There’s someone out there with a key to your apartment — someone that has been coming here for gods know how long and you want to stay?”

“I don’t exactly have anywhere else to go to,” Nyx remarked and shifted to lie on his side, pointedly not looking at the message on the wall.

“Garulashit! You can always stay with me and you know it,” Libertus told him and nudged his leg as a mischievous smile spread over his lips. “And you’ve been getting all cozy with the Marshal too, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to have you over.”

“Shut up!” Nyx grumbled and made a half-hearted attempt to shove Libertus off the bed. Libertus just laughed and moved out of his reach.

“Speaking of which. You told him, right?” Libertus asked a moment later, making Nyx’s eyes narrow.

“Told him what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.” Libertus’ eyes narrowed right back. “You can’t seriously be thinking about not telling him! He has a right to know about the message.”

Nyx huffed and turned his attention to the poster on the ceiling. “I was going to tell him…”

It wasn’t a lie. He was going to tell Cor... at some point. He just needed to figure out how to do that first. It didn’t seem right to just text or call the man and inform him that oh yeah, while we were out on that date, someone broke into my apartment and wrote a creepy message on my wall about how they don’t think you’re good enough for me. Ugh.

“Sure you were.” Libertus didn’t believe a word he said. Not that Nyx blamed him, he probably wouldn’t have believed himself either. “Either you tell him or I will.”

“Lib!” Nyx yelped and sat up. Libertus looked every bit unimpressed as he stared Nyx down. Nyx crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “Fine! I’ll tell him tomorrow after work. Happy?”

“Ecstatic.” Libertus said dryly.

“I hate you.”

“Love you too.” Libertus replied and grabbed Nyx’s arm to pull him up. “You’re staying the night at my place, grab your coat.”

“Lib!” Nyx didn’t whine. He did not.

Libertus ended up winning the ensuing staring contest and a couple of minutes later Nyx was somewhat reluctantly putting on shoes. He supposed he could stay at Libertus’ place for one night. It just wasn’t something he wanted to make a habit of.

“Alright, let’s go,” Libertus said and basically shoved Nyx out of the door as soon as he had grabbed his coat. “Just so you know, I’m blaming you when I’m falling asleep during my shift tomorrow.”

---

It took some creative measures but Nyx managed to escape from Libertus the following morning so he could catch a ride with Cor as promised. He went back to his place to grab his uniform — he had a feeling Drautos wouldn’t be too impressed by him showing up in his date attire — and was greeted by the lovely message on his wall. He had hoped it had been some bizarre nightmare but of course that wasn’t the case.

Nyx sighed. He would have to talk to his landlady about changing the locks at some point. The wall would need a new layer of paint too which meant he would have to make a stop at a hardware store after his shift. Wonderful. Nyx muttered a curse under his breath as he tossed his jacket over his shoulder and headed back out again, just in time to see Cor arrive.

“Morning,” Nyx greeted the man with a tiny, barely there smile as he sat down on the passenger seat. He still didn’t know what he was going to tell Cor or when. Libertus would go through with his threat to tell Cor if he didn’t do it himself and that would be a disaster Nyx wanted to avoid at all cost. But how was he supposed to tell Cor? He didn’t even know who was behind the whole thing or why.

“You look like you didn’t get much sleep,” Cor noted with a slight frown as he pulled back into traffic.

“Yeah, well that’s because I didn’t.” Nyx said. It was true, he hadn’t gotten more than a few hours of sleep. He had spent most of the night trying to figure out who would do something like this but he had no idea. His friends might have been absolute menaces at times but they wouldn’t be stupid enough to paint on his wall. Not even Tredd would do anything like that. Then there was the whole thing with the key and there being only three copies that very few people had access to. It was a whole shitshow. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

Cor made a thoughtful noise and a moment later he was pulling over again. He shifted the car onto park and turned in his seat to look at Nyx. “You know you can tell me if there’s something bothering you, right?”

“I- Yeah, I know,” Nyx sighed. He averted Cor’s probing gaze and chose to look out of the windshield instead. Cor was smart. It would be for the best if Nyx just told him now but just the idea made him nervous.He had no idea how Cor would react. There was an irrational fear lurking in the dark corner of his mind, trying its best to convince him that Cor would somehow think Nyx was crazy or too much trouble and leave him over this.

Even if that was the case, Nyx couldn’t keep it from him. Libertus had been right when he had said Cor had the right to know. The message had clearly been about Cor, and as such he deserved to know. The person behind the message could go after him, and he needed to be prepared if that happened.

“Listen, something happened last night,” Nyx hesitated, licking his lips as he tried to figure out what to say. “There was a message on my wall when I got home. Freshly painted. I think it’s connected to my stuff going missing.”

“What did it say?” Cor asked. There was something akin to concern in his voice. “Nyx?”

“It, uh, it said ‘He’s not good enough for you’.”

Cor was silent for a moment, and it gave Nyx the perfect amount of time to regret telling him. It had been a mistake. He should’ve just stayed quiet and-

“Well, fuck.”

Nyx laughed, taken aback by Cor’s response. Of all the things he had expected, that was not one of them. “That’s all you have to say?”

Cor did not look amused as he looked at Nyx. “Did you stay there last night?”

“No, Libertus had me stay with him.” Nyx shook his head. He felt like he should say something more but he didn’t know what.

“Good, I don’t want you to go back there alone before this is solved,” Cor told him firmly. “With your permission, I’d like to get a few of my trusted people on this. They’ll be careful and keep it under wraps, I promise.”

“Cor-” Nyx shifted uneasily. He wasn’t sure how to respond. It made his heart flutter, glad to see that Cor cared about him enough to do all that for him. At the same time, he worried it was too much. He didn’t want to burden Cor with any of this, especially not when he would essentially put more work on his plate if he assigned people to find the mystery person. “You don’t-”

“You can stay with me.”

Nyx blinked. “What?”

“Stay with me,” Cor repeated, his eyes carefully tracking Nyx’s reaction. “At my place.”

“I can’t just leave like that, there are people in Little Galahd that need me,” Nyx shook his head with a sigh. He reached for Cor’s hand and intertwined their fingers. Staying with Cor sounded wonderful if he was being honest but he couldn’t. Not like this. “I’ll be fine, I promise. Besides, I could take care of it if the person tried something.”

“Nyx,” Cor drawled.

Nyx felt his heart stop. There was something about the way that Cor had said it that made him look up. He didn’t know how to interpret the expression on Cor’s face. It was slightly unnerving.

“Your apartment isn’t safe. The situation has already escalated, what happens when the person decides they’ve been hiding in the shadows long enough? I don’t want to see you get hurt. Stay with me,” Cor said.

Nyx ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes. “And what if they don’t find the person? I can’t just stay with you forever, I need to-”

“Why not?”

It was a simple question but all words died in Nyx’s throat when he tried to respond. He looked at Cor. The man had sounded sincere, even with his question, as if there would be no problem if he stayed for a long time.

“Nyx, I love you.” Cor said.

Nyx blinked. His brain stopped responding. The world screeched to a halt. Nyx couldn’t think, couldn’t remember how to breathe. Had Cor really just said that?

“You-… you what?” Nyx asked, his voice a few octaves higher than normal as his brain tried to catch up. “You- you do?”

Cor’s brow knit together. His expression was a mix of concern and amusement as he looked at Nyx and squeezed his hand. “I do. I love you Nyx Ulric, and I want you to stay with me. At least until the person is caught.”

Nyx ducked his head as a faint blush crept up his neck. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest from the whirlwind of emotions that he was feeling. He brought Cor’s hand to his lips.

“I- I love you too,” he admitted.

Cor tugged Nyx closer and pressed a kiss on his temple. “Stay with me?”

Nyx closed his eyes and smiled. He couldn’t say no to Cor, not after he had broken out the L-word. Cor, the little shit that he was, had to have known that. “You can be awfully convincing when you want to… I’ll stay with you.”

Cor gave a satisfied smile as he sat back. “Good. We can grab your things later today after work.”

“Yeah, okay.” Nyx sighed and reluctantly let go of Cor’s hand when the man got ready to pull back into the traffic. This was the last thing he had expected to come out of the conversation but he couldn’t be happier with the way it had gone. He felt all warm inside. Happy.

That feeling just about vanished when he got to work ten minutes late and came face to face with a pissed off Drautos.

“How nice of you to grace us with your presence, Glaive Ulric,” Drautos said as Nyx got into the line with the other Glaives.

“Sorry, Sir. Won’t happen again, Sir,” Nyx replied. He could see Crowe and Libertus sending questioning looks his way but they would have to wait until later. If he was still alive after Drautos had chewed him out that was.

“No, it won’t,” Drautos agreed. “You’re all dismissed. Ulric, you’re with me.”

Nyx ignored the whispers and snickering around the room as he jogged to catch up to Drautos. “Sir? I was assigned to the East Gate today.”

“Not anymore,” Drautos told him as they walked down the hallway towards the training rooms. “Today we’re introducing the new recruits to hand-to-hand and magic combat. You get to be my assistant.”

Nyx grimaced. The position of Drautos’ assistant was a rare gift to those that were on his shit list. In other words, it was just another punishment and Nyx was going to get dropped into the mat until he was one giant bruise. “Right.”

Drautos glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “You have a problem with this, Ulric?”

“No, Sir, none at all,” Nyx was quick to say. He just couldn’t stop pissing off Drautos, could he? If only Crowe was here to smack some sense into him, he could really use that.

“Good,” Drautos said as they entered the training room. “This should be fun.”

Nyx was wise enough not to respond.

---

Nyx groaned as Crowe put her tray down on the table with an unnecessary amount of aggression. He had his arms folded on the smooth surface, head propped on top of them as he tried to nap. He was sore and exhausted. He had heard one of the recruits joke about his bruises having bruises after Drautos’ demonstrations and that’s exactly how it felt like.

“What’s up with him?” Crowe asked. as she sat down and poked him in the arm. Nyx considered glaring at her but he figured that would be a waste of energy and he needed every last drop of it to survive the rest of the day as Drautos’ plaything. Libertus could be his spokesperson for the time being.

“He’s been playing Drautos’ training dummy the whole morning,” Libertus said with a hint of amusement in his voice. Nyx grumbled something incoherent under his breath and buried his head deeper into his arms. His friends would take any chance they could to enjoy his misfortune.

“Ah, that explains it,” Crowe snorted. There was a clink of utensils as she dug into her lunch. “That’s what you get for being late.”

“Why were you late anyway?” Libertus asked before Nyx could say anything.

“Ooh, do you think he and the Marshal did the deed before coming in…?”

“Crowe!” Nyx exclaimed and reached out to shove her. “Why do you have to be like this?”

Crowe just cackled. “He lives!”

“Just let me sleep,” Nyx muttered and put his head down again.

They didn’t. Of course they didn’t.

“Why were you late then?” Crowe asked as she continued to wolf down her food.

Nyx sat back in his chair with a sigh. He snatched an apple from Crowe’s tray and nearly got stabbed with a fork for his troubles. Crowe’s eyes narrowed dangerously but Nyx was too tired to care and stuck out his tongue at her. If he was going to miss his nap for this, he deserved some compensation for it, even if that was in the form of an apple.

“I’m assuming Libertus couldn’t keep his mouth shut about what happened last night?”

Libertus made an indignant voice and Nyx gave him a smug smile.

“Of course he told me about your mystery Stalker,” Crowe scoffed. “I think most glaives know about it by now.”

“So did you tell Leonis?” Libertus asked but the quick change of subject didn’t go unnoticed by Nyx and he narrowed his eyes. Libertus just gave him an innocent look.

Nyx rolled his eyes and took a bite out of his apple. “I did.”

“Yeah? And what did the Marshal say to that?” Crowe asked, her lunch forgotten as she leaned towards Nyx.

“Asked me to stay with him.” Nyx shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. He didn’t need these two to know about the exact details of that conversation. They would never let him live it down if they found out he had completely frozen when Cor had first confessed. “Said he would have a few of his guys investigate.”

“They’re so disgustingly in love,” Crowe cackled and shook her head.

Nyx looked at Crowe incredulously. “What? Where did you draw that conclusion from? I just said he would have someone look into this.”

“Exactly. You don’t see the Marshal doing that just for anyone,” Crowe pointed out smugly. “Don’t try to deny it, you’re in love.”

“Shut up,” Nyx groaned, tempted to throw the apple at her. The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge that she would absolutely obliterate him if he were to try. He didn’t think he would even be fast enough to warp away.

“Hah! I knew it!”

“I hate you both.”

“Hey, what did I do?” Libertus exclaimed. To his credit, he had actually been quiet for most of the conversation while Crowe had been the bigger menace.

“You love us,” Crowe said with a highly unimpressed look as she finally turned her attention back onto her tray and stabbed a piece of broccoli with a fork. “So are you going to be staying with him then?”

Nyx shrugged. “I guess? I did tell him I would.”

Crowe grinned widely, her eyes shining in a way that Nyx knew meant nothing good. She looked at Libertus. “Fifty bucks says they’re officially living together by the end of the month.”

“You’re on.” Libertus didn’t even hesitate before responding.

“Hey!” Nyx threw his hands in the air as he looked between the two. “I’m right here!”

“You wanted to nap, didn’t you?” Crowe asked him pointedly and made a dismissive motion with her hand. “Go back to napping.”

Nyx’s eyes narrowed. “Rude.”

“You know you want to,” Crowe said before glancing at the clock on the wall. “You’ve got ten minutes. If I were you, I would use that time well.”

Nyx muttered something unflattering under his breath. Ten minutes was way too little time for a nap. He had no idea how he was supposed to survive the rest of the day. Groaning, Nyx pushed away from the table and stood up. “I need coffee. A lot of it.”

His two loving friends just laughed at his misery.

---

Somehow, Nyx was still alive when his shift ended. His body was all kinds of stiff and sore and a glance in the mirror showed bruises of varying shapes and sizes decorating his skin. A hot shower helped ease the worst of the tension that had built in his shoulders before he dried himself off and changed into the sweats he kept in his locker.

Libertus gave him an amused look from where he was rummaging through his own locker. “Rough day?”

“Shut up.” Nyx threw a sock at him, only to regret it immediately when he realized he would need to walk across the room to get it back. He leaned against the lockers and groaned. Libertus chuckled but he seemed to take pity on him as he bent down to grab the sock.

“Rumor has it that our dear Captain is going to head outside the Wall tomorrow to check on some stuff so you should be safe for a while,” he said as he brought the sock back to Nyx.

“Yay,” Nyx muttered in response as he took the sock from Libertus and put it on. He didn’t want to think how that could mean there would be a deployment waiting for them somewhere in the near future. Stupid war.

“So are you going to Leonis’ place tonight then?” Libertus asked. Nyx lifted his head and squinted at him. There was something in his voice that made him think Crowe was somehow behind this.

“Yeah, we’ll go pick up a few things from my place when he gets off,” Nyx told him and leaned forward to tie his boots. He should probably get a pair of sneakers to keep in his locker as well, just so he could put on something other than his sweaty boots after a long day of work. Not that he really had many pairs of shoes to begin with — especially since one pair had mysteriously disappeared a couple of weeks back alongside some other clothes.

Libertus nodded as he turned around to walk back to his locker. “Doesn’t he live in some upscale neighborhood? Security should be better than at your shithole at least.”

“He does not live in an upscale neighborhood,” Nyx rolled his eyes, “And you’re one to talk! Your place is just as much a shithole as mine.”

“At least my apartment isn’t the size of a broom closet,” Libertus shot back pointedly as he closed his locker. To his credit, his place was actually larger and didn’t look as much of a disaster as Nyx’s did. Libertus’ phone pinged with a message and Nyx watched him pull the device from his pocket with a frown. There was a heavy sigh and then the phone was back in his pocket. “It’s my uncle. He’s having some trouble at the bar, asked me to go over.”

Nyx nodded in understanding. “Go, call me if you need an extra hand.”

“I won’t,” Libertus replied with a knowing smirk. A moment later he was gone from the room.

Nyx shook his head with a smile as he reached for his own phone. He lifted it to his ear after choosing Cor’s number on the speed dial. Exactly three rings later the call was picked up.

“Cor Leonis speaking,” came a gruff response.

Nyx snorted and leaned forward to prop his elbows onto his knees. “Didn’t even bother to check the caller ID?”

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a heavy sigh. Nyx’s smile faltered a bit. “Sorry, Nyx. I’ve been incredibly busy this whole afternoon and I don’t think I can pull away just yet. There was an incident earlier today and I need to clear a few things up before I can leave.”

“It’s fine,” Nyx reassured him. Cor sounded just as tired as he felt. “I can go and wait for you at my-”

Cor cut him off with a firm ‘no’ before he could even finish. “I don’t want you to go there by yourself. Is there someone you could stay with until I’m done here?”

Nyx sighed. “It’s not a big deal, I’ll just go in and grab a few things before coming right back to the Citadel. It’s safe.”

“It’s not safe,” Cor told him. “Nyx, we have no guarantee that the person won’t be there. Promise you won’t go there on your own?”

Nyx pressed his lips into a thin line, half tempted to whine. He didn’t though. Cor was just trying to look out for him. He could understand that. Taking a deep breath, Nyx closed his eyes. “I guess I could ask Crowe to come with me.”

“Good.” The relief was audible in Cor’s voice. “I’ll be done in an hour, tops. I’ll call you then?”

“Yeah,” Nyx said as a tiny smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He hesitated slightly before adding, “...I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Nyx sat still for a few more minutes after the call ended, deep in thought. Cor was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. There had been times when he had thought he would never find anyone to spend his life with. Not many were willing to get together with someone who had a dangerous profession like he did. But then he had met Cor. Cor was everything he could have ever hoped for and more. Nyx was never going to let go of him.

When he finally got to his feet, Nyx shot Crowe a message, asking about her whereabouts as he left the locker room. He ended up finding her in the hallway outside of the mess hall before she could even respond.

“Crowe!” Nyx called out and waved at her.

“I thought you would’ve left with your dear boyfriend by now,” Crowe said with a chuckle as she walked up to meet him.

“Yeah, well, he’s working late,” Nyx told her with a sigh. “Which is why I came looking for you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Nyx nodded. Then he saw a smile forming on her lips and started wondering if he should’ve waited for Cor after all. Crowe would without a doubt find some way to make fun of him over this. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “So, uh, I was thinking about going over to my place to grab some things but Cor doesn’t want me to go alone.”

“So you thought you would ask me?” Crowe asked with a dangerous twinkle to her eyes.

Nyx groaned. He knew this had been a bad idea. He should’ve just trusted his instincts. “Libertus had to go help out his uncle and you’re the only other person available.”

“Except I’m not available,” Crowe replied and motioned at the uniform she was still wearing. “Drautos has me pulling a double… and I would like to stay off his shit list if possible.”

“Oh,” was the only thing Nyx could think to say. Well, that made his plan a bit harder.

Crowe snorted. “I have to say, I’m surprised you, Mr. Independent, are actually listening to someone. You’re not scared of this stalker guy, are you?”

“Of course I’m not,” Nyx huffed, crossing his arms defensively. “Cor just doesn’t want me to go alone and I’m trying to be considerate.”

“Right,” Crowe cackled and gave him a playful shove. “Maybe I need to get to know him better since he seems to be the only person you listen to.”

“Don’t you have work to do?” Nyx asked her in an attempt to change the subject.

“I do,” Crowe said with a wide grin. She patted him on the arm. “Try not to do anything stupid, okay?”

“When do I ever?” Nyx smirked and waved goodbye to her as they went their separate ways.

Now Nyx had two options — he could either wait for Cor to get off work or he could save them both time by going to his place and picking up his stuff by himself. He had made a promise to Cor, though, and he would hate to break it. He didn’t want to lose Cor’s trust, not when they were still building it too.

On the other hand, they were both tired. Nyx had heard it in Cor’s voice. He could make the evening easier on them both and just get one thing off their list. Besides, it wasn’t like the stalker, as Crowe had kindly dubbed the person, had shown any signs of aggression towards him. He had never run into the person before, so what were the chances of that happening now? And he was a trained soldier, one of the best. He could take care of himself if there was trouble.

Nyx snuck out of the Citadel quickly, and it really did feel like he was sneaking off without permission. In a way, that was exactly what he was doing. Cor would understand though. Nyx hoped at least. He hailed a cab and twenty minutes later he was standing on the street outside of his apartment. A guilty feeling had crept up on him during the drive. Crowe would make a joke about how he was whipped but maybe she wouldn’t be that far off. Nyx didn’t want to betray Cor’s trust like this.

Cursing under his breath, Nyx took out his phone and called Cor. All he got was a busy signal. Great.

Nyx sighed and opened their text messages. A text message would be better than nothing, right? ‘Hey. I tried to call you but you were busy. I just got to my place. Alone. I’m sorry but I’ll be back in 30.’

With the message sent, Nyx pocketed his phone and headed inside. He would grab some clothes, maybe his guitar. His pictures too, he didn’t want to take the chance that the stalker would do something to them if they snuck in. In and out in ten minutes. Nyx’s lips pressed into a thin line as he pulled his keys from the armiger to unlock the door.

The apartment was dark as he entered, and he felt his way along the wall until his hands hit the light switch. As soon as the lights flickered on, his gaze was on the figure standing next to his desk. The figure, a man slightly smaller than Nyx, turned on his heels and looked at him with an unsettling smile. In his hand, was the picture of Selena and him. Nyx tensed.

“Close the door, would you?” the man asked, perfectly casual as if there was nothing wrong with the situation.

Nyx frowned, and against better judgement, closed the door behind him. There was something familiar about the man, something that made Nyx think he should know him from somewhere.

The man put the picture down — much to Nyx’s relief — and turned to lean against the desk.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

Nyx said nothing at first as he thought. The man held himself in a manner that indicated a military background. He had an accent, somewhat similar to what Nyx had heard near the border of Galahd. The man had no other signs that would make him Galahdian but Nyx knew many people who chose not to braid their hair or wear beads and traditional clothing. Galahdian background would point towards the man being or having been a part of the Kingsglaive, as they weren’t as easily accepted in the Guard.

The man shifted, pushing away from the desk to stand straight. As he did so, Nyx caught a glimpse of a scar running across his neck, one that sparked recognition in him. Liero Malum. He had saved the man on a deployment a few months back when he had gotten cornered by a bunch of demons. It had been a really close call for the both of them, but especially for Liero who had nearly bled out after a particularly nasty hit.

Nyx swallowed hard. He had only seen the man a couple of times since, nearly forgotten about him too.

Liero clearly hadn’t forgotten about him.

“Is that- Is that my shirt?” Nyx asked, voice uncertain as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer as he noticed a familiar band t-shirt peeking under Liero’s coat. A sick feeling started forming in his stomach.

Liero smiled even wider and reached down to feel the hem of the t-shirt with one hand. “It’s so soft, you know, and smells so much like you. You hadn’t used it in a while so I thought I would borrow it.”

Nyx suppressed a shiver. Something about Liero was off. He put his hands out in a placating gesture as he spoke. “Listen, uh… Liero. That’s your name, right? You need to stop doing this. You can’t break into people’s houses and damage their property.”

“You don’t understand, Nyx! I’m just trying to protect you!” Liero shouted. His expression twisted into dark fury as he pulled a gun from his armiger in a flash of blue.

“Liero, put the gun down.” Nyx twitched at the outburst but forced himself to stand still as Liero pointed the gun at him. He had to defuse the situation, fast. If Liero pulled the trigger, the bullet could easily go through the wall to the neighboring apartments that housed families with young children.

“Move away from the door!” Liero snapped at him, waving the gun around. He was clearly unstable and in no state to be handling a firearm. Nyx clenched his jaw but did as told, careful to telegraph his moves to avoid any incidents. As he moved, Liero continued ranting, “Why don't you understand! They want to separate us! They want to take you from me!”

Nyx stopped when he was next to the foot of the bed and looked at Liero. The man was delusional, dangerously so.

A plan slowly forming in Nyx’s head. It would be risky but if he could just reach into his pocket, he could alert someone. He wouldn’t be able to do that with Liero keeping such a close eye on him, not if he didn’t want to get shot. Another option was to fight, try to disarm the man but it carried even more risks. Nyx didn’t want to take the chance some innocent person would get hurt if the gun went off.

Nyx sighed, his voice calm as he spoke, “Liero, you need to put that gun down. You don’t want to accidentally hurt someone.”

“Who says it’d be an accident?” Liero asked, his eyes narrowing as he walked closer. “Nyx, don’t you see it? You can’t go with the Marshal! He’s not the right person for you! This — us — is meant to be!”

A shiver went down Nyx’s spine. “Can we just take a moment and-”

“He’s not even from Galahd, he doesn’t understand!” Liero exclaimed. “Are you willing to abandon your heritage, your roots, for someone like him?”

“It isn’t like that. He’s-”

“Don’t tell me what it is and isn’t!” Liero surged forward and slammed Nyx against the wall. A startled gasp burst from Nyx’s lips. As delusional as Liero was, he was still strong and used his whole body weight to pin him there. Nyx grimaced, one of his arms was trapped between his back and the wall, essentially useless. He curled his fingers into a fist and struck out with his free hand but Liero caught it before he could make contact.

“I didn’t want it to come to this but they clearly have you fooled! I can’t let you ruin your- our life like this!” Liero told him and shook his head. “You brought this down on yourself but I will make everything right again.”

“You’re delusional.” Nyx hissed as summoned a flame into the hand Liero was holding.

Liero released Nyx with a pained cry. Nyx used the situation to his advantage and wrenched himself away from him. He managed two steps before something hard crashed down on the back of his head. A strangled noise slipped from his lips as he struck the ground and his head bounced off the unforgiving surface. Dazed, he couldn’t move fast enough before Liero was on him again, manhandling him onto his stomach.

“Stop squirming!” A heavy weight settled over his back as Liero straddled him. Nyx bucked under him, his fight or flight instincts kicking in but it did little to help. Hands caught his wrists and wrested them behind his back. He gasped a sharp, pained noise.

“Liero-”

“This is for your own good!” Liero insisted with a snarl. He snapped a pair of cuffs around Nyx’s wrists, tightening them to the point where they bit into his skin.

Nyx pressed his forehead against the floor, eyes closed. He cursed at himself for being so stupid, for not listening to Cor. His head hurt, as did his whole body. If he wasn’t already worn out from Drautos’ treatment, maybe he wouldn’t have gone down so easily. “Liero, think about what you’re doing.”

“I have. I’m doing this for you.”

“You’re not,” Nyx said, tugging at his wrists futilely. “Let me go. I don’t want any of this.”

“That’s because they’ve brainwashed you. You’ll thank me later.”

Nyx opened his mouth to retort but a knock on the door distracted him. His heart felt like it skipped a beat and he craned his neck to look at the door as a familiar voice called out, “Nyx, are you in here?”

Liero clamped a hand over Nyx’s mouth. “Stay quiet! He’ll be gone soon.”

“Cor!” Nyx shouted into the handgag. The sound was muffled, not even close to being loud enough to reach the door. Desperation filled him as Liero cursed and lifted his gun to point at the door. He tried to squirm, struggled to get free but it was all futile. He had to warn Cor.

Cor knocked again. “Nyx?”

Liero cocked the gun.

Nyx’s heart stopped. He shook his head to dislodge the hand, wrenching his head to the side as hard as he could and bit down on Liero’s hand. Liero cried out and yanked his hand away but Nyx paid little attention to him.

“Cor, watch out he’s-”

A gunshot rang out, and the bullet penetrated the door.

“No! Cor!” Nyx shouted. The smell of ozone filled the air as magic surged inside him, the crackle of lightning magic building. Liero swore. Fingers sunk into Nyx’s hair, gripping tightly before slamming his head against the floor harshly. A strangled cry ripped out of his throat and he slumped down and his vision greyed around the edges.

“I told you I’m not letting them separate us!” Liero growled as his hand pressed down between his shoulder blades to keep him down. “Stop fighting this!”

Nyx made a pained noise. His whole body felt sluggish, too slow to respond as he tried to struggle. He couldn’t give up. Cor could have been shot, he could be bleeding out on the other side of the door. Nyx had to help him. He called out again but Liero stuffed a cloth into his mouth.

“Be quiet!”

Right then the door busted open. Liero startled, his gunhand twitching dangerously but fortunately it didn’t go off. Nyx turned his head and his breath caught in his throat as he saw Cor standing in the doorway with a gun in his hand. He was alive. He hadn’t been shot.

“Step away from him!” Cor ordered, his voice dark in a way Nyx had never heard. He held the gun steady and his expression was one of pure determination, a steep contrast to the frenzied Liero.

“He’s not yours!” Liero shouted. “You’re not the right person for him!”

“I’m not going to repeat myself. Put your gun down and step away from him!”

Liero let out a snarl and Nyx felt him tense up above him. He tried to warn Cor but then Liero was off him in a crackle of magic. There was a grunt of pain as Liero crashed into Cor. Nyx yelled into the gag, struggling to turn onto his side and get up to help. He didn’t know how much he could do with his hands cuffed behind him but he couldn’t not do anything. This was all his fault, he didn’t want Cor to get hurt because of him and his stupidity.

Cor and Liero continued to grapple with each other, Cor’s moves sharp and those of a trained soldier. Liero was growing more desperate and frantic as the fight went on. Nyx managed to get onto his side but just that left him feeling dizzy. He saw Cor take a nasty punch to the face and flinched as he staggered back. He shouted at Liero to stop but it came out muffled.

Cor recovered fast, though, and caught Liero’s hand when he tried to throw another punch. He used the man’s own momentum to twist him around and put him into a chokehold. Liero let out an enraged yell and thrust his elbow into Cor’s ribs. Cor grunted. They staggered back a few steps but Cor didn’t let go.

Ten seconds later he lowered unconscious Liero to the floor and summoned a pair of zipties out of the armiger.

Nyx tried to say Cor’s name but the gag muffled it almost entirely. Cor still heard him, his gaze flicking over to him. His expression softened, even as his eyes shone with worry. “Hang on, Nyx, I’ll be right there, I just need to tie him up.”

Nyx nodded and dropped his head down as guilt and exhaustion set in. Cor could have been seriously injured or worse because of him — because he had been stupid and underestimated the situation. It all could have been avoided if he had just listened to Cor and his friends.

“Nyx?” Nyx startled, eyes flying open — when he had closed them? — to see Cor on one knee next to him. His gaze instantly flickered to the side where Liero was, bound and gagged in the corner. The man was still unconscious but most likely wouldn’t stay that way for long. Nyx twitched when he felt fingers on his face, tugging the gag out. He made a face and coughed weakly.

“It’s okay, I got you,” Cor reassured him, hand on his shoulder. “Just breathe. We need to get you out of those cuffs.”

Nyx looked at Cor, wanting to say so many things but somehow unable to get a word out. “Cor-... Wait, are you- you’re bleeding!”

There was a wet, dark patch on the sleeve of Cor’s jacket. Nyx chest tightened with worry. The gunshot. It hadn’t missed.

“It’s just a graze, I’ll be fine,” Cor told him with the slight shake of a head. He cupped the side of Nyx’s face with his hand, his thumb caressing his cheek. “And so are you. Do you think you can sit up so we can get those cuffs off?”

Nyx frowned but nodded after a moment. Cor carefully maneuvered around him, hands on both of Nyx’s shoulders as he helped him sit up against the bed. Nyx groaned. His head did not like the change in position.

“Just breathe,” Cor reminded him once again as he reached down to take the cuffs off. “He hit you in the head?”

Nyx sighed and slumped against the bed. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

“We can talk about that later. Let’s focus on getting out of here first, okay?” Cor told him as he got one of Nyx’s hands free.

“Okay,” Nyx replied quietly. He brought his hand to his face but Cor gently made him put it down before he could touch anything. “Wha-”

“You have a wound on the side of your head, I don’t want you touching it,” Cor said, calm but stern to get the point across. He released Nyx’s other hand too before throwing the cuffs and the key into his armiger. “He hit you?”

Nyx nodded. He was feeling downright miserable and the last thing he wanted to do was lie to Cor again. “He hit me in the back of the head with something hard, the gun maybe. Slammed my head against the floor too.”

Cor’s expression turned grim, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Okay. Any nausea, light sensitivity, the usual concussion symptoms?”

“Just hurts,” Nyx shook his head. Instant regret. “...and a little dizzy.”

“Okay, we’re going to the hospital,” Cor decided. His voice left no room for objections, not that Nyx really had the energy to do so in the first place. This was his mess, he could listen to Cor for once.

“You’ll get checked out too?” he asked. Cor looked at him, eyes sharp and assessing as they roamed over Nyx’s features. A minute later he nodded. Nyx was surprised, having half expected him to just brush it off. It made him relax a bit, to know Cor would have his injuries looked at as well.

Then his gaze flickered over to Liero. The man was awake now but he seemed unnervingly calm as he stared at the two of them. Nyx forced himself to tear his eyes away and look back at Cor. “What about him?”

“My people will take care of him, don’t worry about it,” Cor said without any hesitation. He glanced in Liero’s direction as well and his expression darkened minutely before he turned back to Nyx. “Think you can stand?”

“Yeah,” Nyx said. There was no way he was going to let himself be carried out. He was going to listen to Cor but he still had his stubborn streak and that meant he would walk out of there on his own two feet one way or another.

Cor didn’t fight him on that. He just nodded and slung one of Nyx’s arms over his shoulders to help him up.

“Shiva…” Nyx groaned as the world tilted around him. He screwed his eyes shut and leaned on Cor a little more.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Cor promised him as he wrapped his other arm around Nyx’s middle for additional support. “Let’s just take it slow.”

Nyx swallowed hard and welcomed the added support without any complaints as they slowly made their way outside. Cor helped him into the passenger seat and gave him a clean handkerchief to use on the head wound. Cor had to stand outside for a moment or two longer as a new car pulled up and some people got out to talk with Cor. Based on their Crownsguard fatigues, Nyx assumed they were the people Cor had talked about.

A few minutes later Cor got into the car and they headed to the hospital.

---

It was nearly midnight by the time Cor and Nyx got out of the hospital, and closer to an hour later when they got to Cor’s place. Nyx had gotten stitches to his head, and had a concussion and some spectacular bruising to go with it. It wasn’t the worst concussion he had ever sustained, but coupled with the exhaustion and events of the day still left him feeling lightheaded and miserable.

“Here,” Cor said as he helped Nyx sit down onto the bed and out of his shoes. It made Nyx feel guilty, the way Cor was so caring and gentle with him even after the stunt he had just pulled hours ago, the way he had broken his trust.

“Thanks,” Nyx sighed as he lay down. Cor’s bed was so much softer than his own, he felt like he could just sink into it. Closing his eyes, he reluctantly shuffled out of his jacket and pushed it over the edge of the bed to the floor. Cor chuckled, most likely at him, before the bed dipped as the man joined him.

“Have the painkillers kicked in yet?” Cor asked. Nyx cracked his eyes open when Cor tugged him to his side with surprising ease and pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Yeah.” Nyx nodded, all but melting into Cor’s arms. “This isn’t hurting your arm, is it?”

“It’s not, I can barely even feel it,” Cor reassured him. He had gotten stitches to his arm but it was nothing serious. A few days without any life-threatening situations and he would be as good as new. “You’re the one that got more banged up.”

Nyx exhaled slowly. His gaze flickered up to look at Cor. “How did you get there so fast? To my place?”

Cor’s hand snaked down to intertwine fingers with Nyx as he sighed. “Someone saw you leaving the Citadel on your own. It wasn’t hard to figure out what your plan was.”

“Sorry.”

Cor shook his head and leaned over Nyx to kiss the bandage on his forehead. “It’s in the past now. Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re too good for me,” Nyx muttered. He pulled Cor down so he could kiss him on the lips. It was short and sweet and left him longing for more.

“You’re perfect for me,” Cor corrected. He tugged Nyx closer and made sure they were both covered by the duvet. “Get some rest. We can talk more in the morning.”

“I love you,” Nyx told him. He leaned his head against Cor’s shoulder and let out a pleased hum when the man ran his fingers through his hair gently.

“I love you too.”

[shewillreadyou]

Haven’t met you yet

As always. I hope that you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

A/N: This is a TRR AU. Liam is already married, but see’s Riley and wants his cake. If the readers are receptive this might turn into more than a mini series.

Disclaimers: Most characters are property of Pixelberry

Warnings: NS*FW (+18) don’t read this fic if you’re a minor; period.

Word Count: 1887

Prompts: @wackydrabbles prompt #88 “I meant every word.” will appear in BOLD

Pairings: Drake & Riley

Song inspiration: Haven’t met you yet -Michael Buble

Be Kind: Hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy. 

A replay of the Royal wedding of King Liam and Queen Carsyn of Cordonia was playing in the background as she packed her clothes in the small carryon. She giggled when they kissed. Although it was rumored that the king was into black women, something seemed off when he kissed his bride. She had watched this wedding a half dozen times and still couldn’t really put her finger on it. She was headed to New York to stand up in the wedding of one of her sorority sisters. After landing her dream job in Dallas, Riley couldn’t wait to meet her sorors in New York to celebrate. After all, Norah was about to marry the man of her dreams and Riley was truly happy for them. 

There was currently no man in Riley’s life and no prospects. Maybe she’d meet someone in Dallas or maybe she was destined for the life of a career woman. Maybe there would be no happily ever after for her. She turned out the lights in her new downtown Dallas apartment, and grabbed her carry on dragging it to the door as she headed to the airport. 

She opened the door to see her latest amazon purchase on the door mat. She took a moment to retreat inside to open the box. She was hoping it was delivered before she had to head out. Her pink Bedroom Kandi toy was still packed away lost in the sea of boxes crammed into her guestroom. She knew that she would not survive this long weekend in NYC without some form of sexual entertainment. She was disappointed when she opened the box to find her new toy was smaller than the picture made it look. Her flight left in 2 hours and her uber was downstairs so she shoved the disappointing toy in the side of her bag and headed down.  

After the uneventful three hour flight, she finally landed at JFK. Mack was supposed to pick her up from the airport. She stood to the side as people herded to baggage claim to send a quick text. A group of men came from the opposite direction. One was this tall, very attractive Asian guy who looked alot like King Liam. He was with a few other men but there was one in particular who caught her eye. He was beautiful, he had dark hair and the most beautiful blue-grey eyes. The guy who bore resemblance to King Liam smiled and winked at her, while his brooding friend who definitely glanced at her, kept moving. She was snatched from her day dream when Mack texted to say she was outside. 

They checked into the Crown Plaza in Manhattan, freshened up and changed into their little black dresses before meeting the girls at a local rooftop lounge for appetizers and drinks before the bachelorette party. 

The sounds of Dua Lipa’s “Don’t start now” played in the background and encouraged a slightly inebriated Lauren to shake her body on the empty dance floor. Still licking the wounds behind a very fresh break up she intended to use this weekend to drink her troubles away and vowed to nail a stranger. 

The hostess seated a group of gentlemen at the table directly behind the ladies giving Riley, who never sat with her back to the door the best look at the group. It was them. The men from the airport. When they were settled, Riley’s eyes met with the Asian guy’s who was smiling and licking his lips. She rolled her eyes and turned to Kourtney. 

“So, how is Gabrielle, is she two now?” 

“Yes, she’s great. Busy, but great. That was real smooth. You have an admirer.”

“Ugh, I saw those guys in the airport when I landed. He smiled at me then too.”

“But now there are two of them looking at you like you’re a steak.”

Riley coyly glanced at the group again, this time noticing the dark haired man looking. She blushed and turned back to Kourtney right as the server approached with a whiskey sour, complete with a phone number written on the cocktail napkin. 

“How did he know what you drink?”

“Girl, I have no idea. Should I drink this?”

“Sure, they wouldn’t have served it if it had been tampered with. But the real question is are you going to call him?” 

“Me? Noooo. What would I say?” 

“What do you have to lose?”

“Wait, you have never dated a white guy before have you?” 

“Well, no. Not that they aren’t attractive. I just never had one interested. Not all of us find our Prince Harry.” 

“You do now. Besides, Chris is no Prince Harry, but he does treat me like a queen. I have always wondered if there are people who would rather be alone than to date outside of their race. Chris is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“I definitely would date outside of my race if it were the right person. He is gorgeous, I’m still not calling this guy. He’s going to think i’m desperate.”

“You are!”

“I am not!”

“When was the last time you got laid? Mack told me about your toy.”

“Remind me to kill her later. It’s been 8 months, 3 weeks and 5 days. But who’s counting?”

“Exactly,” Kourtney cackled, drawing the attention of the men at the next table. 

Maroon 5’s, “Moves like Jagger” started to play as they continued to chat.

“May I have this dance?”

Riley was disappointed to find the King Liam look alike.

“Thanks, but my feet are killing me.”

“That’s too bad,” he said as he flashed her a sexy smile.

Just then she glanced across the rooftop to see him whisper something to his brooding friend. In an instant the guy with the beautiful eyes headed over and slipped the DJ a tip and whispered something in his ear before heading Riley’s way. 

“Kourt, shit! He’s coming over here what do I say?”

“Don’t. Let him do the talking.”

 He held out his hand and smiled at her and she was sure her panties were ruined.

“Hey, did I get your drink right?” he asked placing her hand in his.

“Actually, yeah you did. Impressive.”

Just then the DJ changed the song to Silk Sonic’s, “Leave the door open.”

The stranger pulled her to her feet.

“Let’s dance.”

His scent was intoxicating, his arms where strong and she could get lost in his eyes. He held her with a familiarity that made her feel at home in his arms.

“So are you going to tell me your name?”

“Drake. And you are?”

“Riley.” 

“We don’t have to talk right now. Let’s just dance. Just use my number when you’re ready.”  

“Their bodies swayed slowly to the song before her friends pulled her away to the next leg of their night.”

Two weeks later

After a very long weekend in New York, Riley was back in Dallas. She had been there for almost a month and hadn’t met anyone at all. Well, there was Will from work. But she doesn’t date co-workers and she is pretty sure he is gay. In her freetime she goes to the gym, and eats at new restaurants  a few times a week, which leads her back to the gym. After a particularly long work day, circuit training and an hour on the treadmill Riley came home and poured herself a very large glass of wine. She filled the tub, lit some jar candles and grabbed her toy and the romance novel that she was currently reading.

She was soaking in bubbles up to her neck when her phone rang, it was Kourtney. Out of all her friends she probably checked on Riley the most. She dried her hands and pressed the speakerphone button.

Hey Kourt,

Hey Ri, what’s new?

Not a thing, work, the gym, dinner, wine repeat.

That’s sad. No human interaction?

Not really. I’ve hung out with Mack and Ben twice but I always feel like a third wheel. 

Remember when I told you to call the guy from the rooftop?

Yeah. 

I meant every word.

I will think about it. I gotta go. Early morning. Love you.

Whatever, I know when I hit a nerve. I love you too.

Three days later

Riley was as lonely in Dallas as they come. She thought about online dating but wanted something more organic. Kourtney’s words lingered in the back of her mind. Maybe she was right. Riley had nothing to lose by reaching out to the handsome stranger who sent her the drink in NYC. She decided to take the plunge.

The next morning Riley sat on her balcony reading the paper and sipping amaretto flavored coffee when her phone rang.

Hey Mack! 

Hey, I am running into church and I know it’s short notice but Ben is out of town next weekend and my college roommate is getting married down in Waxahachie. Please tell me you don’t have plans and you’ll be my plus one.

I’ll have to check my planner. She laughed.

Who am I kidding? I don’t have plans. Free booze, food, and maybe a groomsmen to have a fling with. Count me in…

Yay! She squealed. I will pick you up Saturday morning and we can ride down to the ranch together.

Saturday

The doorbell rings and Riley grabs her clutch and the wedding card she got for the newlyweds before heading down to meet Mack. They catch up while they take the 30 minute drive out to the Walker Ranch where the ceremony is to be held. Mack talked about feeling like an after thought when it came to her boyfriend. Riley mentioned the need for human interaction, more specifically from a man and how the one man she met in New York lives in Europe. When they arrive Riley takes in the vast land and the beautiful event space. 

“Savannah’s family owns this ranch? Wow, it’s massive.”

“Yeah, I know at one time they were really struggling to keep things afloat. But it definitely looks like they are doing well for themselves now.”

“Right? I love when family businesses do well. It’s really a gorgeous day for an outside wedding. But we should probably take our seats. The ceremony will be starting soon.”

Mack led Riley to a couple seats on the bride's side. Before long a very serious looking groom and an officiant that Riley could only describe as a King Liam look-a-like stood under a wedding trellis decorated with blush colored blooms. The violinist started to play a beautiful arrangement as the attendants began to descend the aisle. 

“All rise and receive the bride.”

They guess all stood and turned to receive Savannah. She was a stunning bride. Then Riley laid eyes on those hypnotic blue-grey eyes. She instantly broke out into a sweat. She couldn’t ever mistake those eyes for someone else’s. He was as beautiful as the first tine she saw him. She swallowed hard and her mouth went dry. Her heart seemed to be pounding out of her chest, she was shaking when she gave Mack’s hand a firm squeeze. 

“What’s wrong Ri?”

Before she could answer, his eyes met hers, he bit his lip and her knees buckled. 

“Um Ri?”

“It’s Drake from the rooftop in New York..”

@txemrn​ @pixie88​ @secretaryunpaid​@khoicesbyk​ @blackkingliamstan​ @mom2000aggie​ @shannonwrote​ @hopelessromanticmonie​ @fanjessfic​ @rideordiechronicles​ @lucy-268​ @dcbbw​ @darley1101​ @maurine07​ @burnsoslow​ @sfb123​ @bbrandy2002​ @kingliam2019​ @schnitzelbutterfingers​ @lem-20​ @choicesficwriterscreations​​ @wackydrabbles​​

TRR: @twinkleallnight​  @bebepac​ @mainstreetreader​ @romereadingshop​ @romewritingshop​ @lem-20​ @texaskitten30​

[willowbird]

Hello! Can I request andreil Christmas morning with the foxes? Or just them?

Yes, yes you can <33

(Technically I have one more prompt before this one, but consider this my contribution to your asks for happy things~)

-----

Sleepy, cozy mornings were a new thing for Neil. Not that he’d never been tired in the morning, or had never been warm and comfortable. There was a difference. Sleepy, for one, implied a certain level of inherent safety and lack of urgency that even throughout his entire first year with the Foxes he had never had the luxury of. Similarly, cozy was a foreign notion to him that carried a downy reassurance of safety he’d never been privileged enough to even consider. 

Right now, though? Right now he was basking in what was decidedly a sleepy, cozy morning. 

Light was filtering through the slatted blinds of Andrew’s bedroom in the house in Columbia like ghost-breath, pale and ephemeral in the early morning. Neil’s eyes were open, but only just, and his mind was so peacefully blank that he spent what could have been ten minutes and could have been a full hour just watching the light steadily warm and brighten, igniting the floating specks of dust like tiny fireworks in a celebration of such unfathomable ease. Behind him were the low, steady cadences of Andrew’s breathing against his shoulder and his heartbeat against his spine -- a duet that Neil idly thought he’d be happy to play on repeat for the rest of his life.

So yeah, he was cozy. He was sleepy. He was... happy. And he was content to bask in that for as long as he could. Stray thoughts filtered through the haze of his only half-awake mind, none of them sticking, none of them elevating his own heart rate above its slow, relaxed beat. It was more that he just... noticed things, then let them go. He noticed the shifting of the light, he noticed the creaking of the house, he noticed that warm, pleased feeling that pulsed in his chest and spread all the way down to each finger and each toe when Andrew sighed and nuzzled his face against his shoulder, the arm around his waist tightening slightly. 

He allowed himself to wake slowly, and when he did feel alert and fully conscious, he remained in place to bask just a little bit longer anyway. 

“Hn..”

Behind him, Andrew made a small, sleepy noise of his own and tightened his arm around him again, fully hiding his face against the back of Neil’s neck. Since Andrew couldn’t see him anyway, Neil didn’t bother hiding the smile the action conjured. 

“Morning,” he offered in greeting, knowing the difference between Andrew’s unconscious movements and signs that he was actually awake but resisting it.

“Too early.” Andrew’s response was muffled, grumbled as it was against Neil’s skin, but decipherable. 

Neil shifted slightly, and Andrew instantly loosened his hold so that Neil could roll onto his side to face him. As much as he enjoyed being held by Andrew sometimes, it was still his favorite to lay facing him. He liked to be able to look at him, to watch his face and see the way light brought out new hues in his hazel eyes. They were almost green this morning, but flecked with brown that flashed gold when he narrowed his eyes into a glare. 

“What?” Andrew accused. 

Neil debated telling Andrew that he was beautiful, that getting to see his face first thing in the morning was his favorite thing about waking up in Columbia, that if it was the last thing he saw he’d count it worth it every single time. 

Instead he shrugged and said, “Nothing.”

Andrew’s glare narrowed and by the accusatory glance at Neil’s mouth, Neil supposed he must be smiling or making some other offensive expression that he knew Andrew must either like more or even less than he said, considering how often he would kiss it away.

Not this morning, though, which was preferable. Neil loved kissing Andrew. He did not like the particular vintage of ass that occurred first thing in the morning before either of them had a chance to brush their teeth. 

By the annoyed sigh Andrew made, Neil supposed he had come to the same conclusion. He didn’t resist when Andrew put his whole hand on Neil’s face to push it into the pillow, only humming in an amused way that he knew would annoy the other man. Andrew was already rolling out of bed when Neil heard the scoff that told him he’d succeeded on that point. 

Pleased with himself, Neil took an extra few moments to stretch, burying his face into Andrew’s pillow and inhaling deeply, allowing himself to go a little light-headed on the rush he got when his senses were flooded with Andrew’s scent. Andrew was gone by the time he’d fully roused himself and was back by the time Neil had changed out of his pajamas and into some lounge pants and a fresh t-shirt. They didn’t have any real plans for the day that he knew of and he was planning to hold onto this cozy feeling for as long as possible even if the sleepy bit had faded. 

Andrew was waiting for him in the hallway when Neil got out of the bathroom, holding a red bundle of knitted fabric in his hands. When Neil only raised an eyebrow, Andrew shoved it at his chest and said, “Nicky’s stupid tradition.”

Neil might have asked, except that he could now see that Andrew had pulled on a sweater over the shirt he’d been wearing when Neil had entered the bathroom. It was dark green with a gold and white tree on it, loopy knitted lettering proclaiming ‘Happy Holidays!’ with aggressive cheer. Now he knew he was grinning, and he didn’t even press a hand to his mouth to hide and cover it, because it felt nothing like his father’s smile. This was something entirely different, born of shock and awe and humor and affection in a combination Neil didn’t think he’d ever actually experienced before. 

“Put yours on before you come down,” Andrew ordered with a flat expression Neil didn’t believe for an instant. “I do not want to listen to Nicky’s whining.”

Then he turned and marched down the stairs, where Neil realized he could hear the sounds of quietly chipper holiday music and the rustle of bodies moving around. 

Neil looked down at the bundle in his hands and shook it out to see the design. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or groan at the image, which was probably the ugliest-looking rendition of a reindeer he’d ever seen in his life. Neil would never say that he had an eye for fashion or art, but this was just... sad. The shade of the nose was just slightly darker than the background of the sweater and he was pretty sure the animal was cross-eyed. 

Ah well, it wasn’t like he’d have to look at it if he was wearing it. With a shake of his head, he tugged it on and turned to head downstairs. At least it was warm. It was also big on him and knitted with something soft, so if Neil were to call it anything, he might say it was... cozy.

“Neil!” Nicky cheered from the stove when Neil entered the kitchen. He was wearing a bright green sweater with an elf on it. Or at least, he thought it was an elf. To his knowledge, elves didn’t wear purple eyeshadow, but hey -- he wasn’t here to judge. “You wore it! I knew it was the perfect sweater for you.”

Neil raised an eyebrow and tugged on the sweater, looking down at it. “Huh. It’s that Christmas deer, right? Randolph?” he asked, full well knowing the correct name. He’d lived on the run for half his life, not under a rock. 

Nicky made a pained, whimpering sound. “Dead. I’m dead. You’ve killed me. Neil, don’t... don’t tell me you’ve never heard of... of Rudolph..?”

Neil looked up at him and affixed something between innocence and confusion on his face. “Isn’t that the guy who makes that snowman. Uh. Freezy or something?”

“Frosty! No, he--”

“Nicky, he’s fucking with you.” This from Aaron, who had no right to ruin his fun when he was sitting there with (a distinctly cross-eyed) Santa Claus on his own sweater. Why did all of these characters have a vision impairment?

Nicky looked from Aaron to Neil, who just shrugged and moved to make himself a cup of coffee. 

“Aww Neil, you asshole,” Nicky whined, but the effect was somewhat ruined by the grin on his face as he turned back to the stove, where he was just finishing up the bacon. It appeared to be the last thing on the menu, because the table was already laden with every single breakfast food Neil could fathom. Three different kinds of eggs, toast, waffles, sausages, biscuits -- it was a regular feast and Neil’s stomach rumbled at the sight. 

“Wow Nicky, what’s with the spread. Did I forget someone’s birthday or something?” Neil asked as he took his usual spot next to Andrew, who’d been watching the whole previous exchange over the rim of his own coffee cup. 

Nicky turned around with the plate of bacon in hand, his expression stricken. “Neil you.. you do know what today is... don’t you?”

Aaron sighed and opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again and glared at Andrew, who must have kicked him. Neil bit back a smirk and frowned instead. “Uh... December twenty-fifth? Probably?” He looked toward the fridge, where Nicky’s calendar hung. The twenty-fifth was circled in green and red marker with two smiley-faces and at least six exclamation points. 

“Shit, it’s your birthday isn’t it? Sorry Nicky, I forgot. I’ll make it up to--”

“It’s CHRISTMAS, Neil! Christmas!!” He set the plate down, like he needed to get it out of his hands before he dropped it. Or maybe so he could fee his hands to gesture emphatically at the sweaters they were all wearing. And the paper snowflakes in the window. And the Christmas lights strung around the cabinets. And the little snowman figurines arranged in various places around the kitchen (even the salt and pepper shakers were a Mr. and Mrs. Snowman now).

Neil followed each gesture obediently, then met Nicky’s eyes. “Oh. Is it?”

The sound that came out of Nicky was something between a scream and a sob. Neil reached across the table and pilfered a piece of bacon, munching on it as the twins also started to fill their plates and Nicky pulled himself back together again. 

This time, it was Andrew that took pity on his cousin. 

“Neil knows what and when Christmas is, Nicky.”

Nicky looked from Andrew to Neil, then to Aaron (who rolled his eyes and took two extra links of sausage), before finally settling his gaze back on Neil. 

Neil blinked at him, then smiled -- because.. well, he couldn’t think of a reason not to, and wasn’t that a weird reason to smile? Instead of commenting on any of that he stole two sausages directly off of Aaron’s plate and put them on Nicky’s, ignoring the affronted cursing from the other man. 

“Merry Christmas, Nicky,” he said pointedly, then went about loading his own plate. 

Neil had never thought much about Christmas before, it just hadn’t been anywhere close to his list of things to worry about. But now... now that he was able to think about things that, well, that weren’t worries he thought that maybe it was something he could kinda get used to. Maybe it was something he could like -- especially if it meant sleepy, cozy mornings and times like this, where he could be so comfortable, so happy, in the circle of his family.

[a-crash-in-time-collection]

Chapter 8: Ghost Dad Worries

The morning sun shone through the forest's leaves, a gentle breeze removing some weaker leaves from the trees. It was mostly quiet in this part of the woods, outside of the small things that came each time the hoof would make an impact with the earth. The young prince sighed as he took in a breath of the fresh air, and slowly, the laughter of children in the village he was approaching. It felt so great to finally be home.

AJ pulled back on the reins gently after they had past the bridge, the horse slowing to a stop gently as he prepared to get off. He hop to the ground, grabbing the reins and tied them to a nearby post. "Take a quick rest, Bay. I will return once I get the flowers." He said, petting bay's brown fur. The horse let out a slight huff, looking to the side as the prince smile, leaving as he took a glance around the town.

He felt so wonderful to be here again. While the place his school was located had quite the beauty, it could never match the feeling of being home. Nor did it have the same wonderful people. He caught a group of three children playing with a ball. He chuckled as one pointed him out, him waving with a smile as he walked past. He found himself staring up at the sky, the warm sun like a ray of life and hope.

He soon spotted his disation, the florist shop. There he would garb flowers for his lovely Vanessa and- he froze slightly. Something was wrong. Things weren't going to turn out right. Even if he just picked flowers from somewhere else, she would still accuse him. His legs became shaky as he tried to calm down. It's ok, you're ok. Don't let what already happened ruin the light for you. Just-

"AHHHHHHHHHH!" The scream was like shattering glass in the middle of the night, waking the ghost jolted right awake from his dream that had been becoming a nightmare. After he got himself to slow his breathing, his eyes instantly laid to the source of the scream, a shaking figure wrapped in the best blanket he could find. Glowing yellow tears falling onto the ground. "NO! PLEASE! I DON'T WANNA DIE!"

"Shadow Kid!" He said, quickly picking her up and pulling her into a hug. "It's ok- ow!" He said, when the child's reaction was to punch him in the chest in confused terror.

The child glanced up at him with a gasp, her eyes shaking slightly as more tears fell from them. "Snatcher?" She asked, her voice so small and meek compared to how it was just seconds before. Snatcher nodded as he floated back to his chair where he was sleeping, holding her close. "I-I.." The child stumbled. "I-I s-saw you frozen. T-The evil queen froze you then shattered you in front of me! S-"

"It's alright kiddo.. just a nightmare." Snatcher sighed, trying his best to stay calm. A small part of him was pounty he had to be woken up early, but he shoved it to the darkest corners of his mind. "That witch is still in the manor. She can't get to us now. She never will."

The child's breath slowed after a small bit. Her tears did as well. "I don't like nightmares.. they feel too real.." And sleeping in a closet was probably not helping with that. In Snacter's defense, he was slowly working on getting a 'second floor' grown into the tree for the child's bedroom, but it's only been a few days since he adopted her, so things were going slow. "What should I do to make them stop?"

"Well, you could always scare someone so you get the mindset you're in charge of scaring!" Snatcher piped up, it helped him out every now and again after all. The child looked confused by his request and just glanced to the side. "Right... sorry. You're not.. crazy like me. That won't work."

"I don't think you're crazy." Shadow Kid said, wrapping his ghostly tail around herself. Great, now he's got the kid trying to consuel the adult. Another great example of his parenting skills. He was so sure Shadow would just be another Hat Kid once the manor scares passed, allowing him to get a Dad plan ahead of time. But he was blind. Shadow was so different. Not that it mattered to him that she was...

"I am compared to before. But let's not talk about that..'' He could see the child look up at him, mainly as the words 'before' left his mouth. Peck, she was going to start asking questions. "You shouldn't worry about that after all. I'm your Dad. I watch and worry about you. I steal the souls of anyone who dares try to harm you. You don't need to worry about me at all, kiddo." He said, a small smile on his face.

"But what if I need to.. steal a soul?"

Snatcher froze for a moment there. On one hand, a part of him was happy by the idea. He could teach her soul stealing, it'd be great bonding time, and it could protect her later on! But at the same time, he knew it likely wouldn't be something she liked. The way the question was phrased was enough to tell that. "You don't need to worry about stuff like that right now, alright?" He asked, tilting her head up slightly.

Shadow Kid nodded. "If you say so... I just want the nightmares to stop.." she said, wiping at her eyes before any tears can form. Snatcher felt upset at the scene. And useless. After watching over the dwellers and minions for the last he didn't know how long, he just assumed he would be a great dad to any ghost child. He was wrong. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't be bugging you about it. I just... want to be happy."

"Boss?" A young voice piped up, Snatcher glancing at the minion who appeared. "Is the princess ok?"

"Yeah.. Yeah she's ok. She's my daughter, why wouldn't she be!" Snatcher playful chuckled, holding Shadow Kid in a more casual way. When he first introduce the child to the other ghost children, the minions quickly latched onto the fact that she was now, techoanlly, the princess of Subcon. They had been calling her 'princess' ever since. He honestly wasn't sure how to feel about that nickname...

"Oh, well, I heard a scream so I felt I had to check it out!" the minion claimed proudly, getting a chuckle from Snatcher in response. There was a small yawn, and Snatcher looked to see the child in his lap falling asleep. "You know, not to be rude, boss, but we noticed you've been struggling with your new responsibility the last few days."

Snatcher sighed slightly, waiting in a few minutes of awkward silence until he was sure Shadow Kid had fallen back asleep. He didn't want to say something that might upset her by mistake. "I would be lying if I tried to deny I have been. I thought having a kid would just be a piece of cake, especially since Shadow here doesn't need to eat or drink. Yet... it's been harder than I thought. I wish I had an idea how.. from someone other than a child." He gave the minion a knowing glare.

The minion shook their head slightly, with a yawn. "Well, you're the boss of things, so I can't make any good calls. Maybe there's someone who may have any idea out there... Welp, night!" The minion waved, before leaving the tree. Snatcher sighed as he looked down at his daughter. Maybe the minion was right... Maybe there was someone out there who would help him.

-------

Snatcher watched from his chair, letting his daughter play in little pool of water the tree had become surrounded in over the years. He was a bit paranoid when he first found her in it, but it wasn't deep enough for her to be stuck. And although she likely wasn’t the best swimmer, she seemed to know enough of the basics to stay afloat. Still, he kept an eye on her, rolling his eyes as a minion splash in the water beside her. It was a nice small distraction from everything. Although he couldn't stay distracted for long.

"You found what-" The DJ's voice brought Snatcher's attention back to the phone he summoned out of thin air. DJ Grooves was the only person he could think of that morning who might help him, so he had reluctantly given the penguin a call. "You're saying that all this time, the little darling had a piece of her own soul stuck here. And we've never known?"

"Don't get any ideas, Grooves. She's my daughter and you will need my consent before you throw her into any of your movies. Don't worry, same for Conductor." Snatcher warned, his slight finger wag could be heard over the phone. He sighed as he floated up, beginning to pace with the phone in hand. "But yes. Apparently she hid from me all these years and only came out recently." He found her, but he wanted to make her sound brave.

DJ Grooves chuckled on the phone. "Well, it's good the little superstar finally came to you, then." DJ Grooves, as one may expect, didn't know too much about Snatcher's past or the manor. But he knew just enough to know what the ghost child's fate could have been. "I do have to say, I'm really happy for you! Having a daughter is one of the most wonderful things in this world, after all." He chuckled.

"That's part of the reason I'm calling, actually.."

"Huh? How come?" DJ Grooves asked. Before Snatcher could respond, he heard a small giggle in the background, and felt a small pain in his soul. He could hear the Penguin place the phone down briefly, likely going over to share a small moment with his own daughter. He only saw the child a few times, but the relationship between the two of them seemed so perfect... "Sorry about that. Also, you seemed so happy about the idea of having her when you first called."

"Well... it's just... I'm failing as a Dad!" He nearly shouted, having no other real way to put it. Hopefully he didn't blow the Penguin's eardrums out. "I kept trying to bring my 'ghost that makes people sign contracts and then kill them' ways to her. I know it's dumb, but the other minons and dwellers seemed so used to it that I thought it'd be ok!"

"Well... I'll be honest, that isn't the smartness move on your part." DJ Grooves said, and Snatcher gave a slight glare to the phone. He knew the penguin was judging him for even thinking about bringing those topics up to her, but he just couldn't help it! Then again, that was the reason he was calling, so it wasn't like he could judge him in return. "She's just a child after all, if she does want to do those things with you, it'll likely be in the far future."

"Assuming she ages... but that's not all..." Snatcher amdited, sighing as he sat back in his soft chair. "Even when I try to treat her like I treated Hat Kid when she was young." As in treated her like a timeline version of Hat Kid where he didn’t try stealing her soul. "She doesn't seem too interested in other stuff! She... hasn't even called me Dad yet.."

"Relax, darling, she will be alright." DJ Grooves said, trying to calm the phantom over the phone. He never really saw this side of the ghost before, the closest he ever got was the last time they all saw Hat Kid back when she was first on this planet. Back when she swept them away from her spaceship. It was strange to see this side of the ghost, even a little unsettling. But he stayed claimed. "It took Dineanna a little over a year to call me Dad. Or to talk at all."

"I suppose..." Snatcher sighed, quickly waving his hand slightly at a minion who noticed him. "But I just... I don't know what to do. I was... hoping you might be able to give me some father pointers?"

"Well, I'm honored that you thought I would be your best choice." DJ Grooves chuckle slightly, as Snatcher rolled his eyes. He was the only father he knew personally. Well, that wasn't fully true. He glanced at the shadow child slightly, smiling faintly as he heard her giggle faintly. "But I'm not sure I can do much to help. She's 7 or 8 and Dineanna is only three. I don't know much about taking care of a child that age."

"Great..." Snatcher sighed, feeling tired slightly. "Is there anything you can tell me, anything? I need to... be better for her."

"Well... Maybe you should learn how Hat Kid was raised. Maybe that will give you some ideas?" As soon as those words came over the phone, Snatcher already knew what was going to be said. He didn't want to deal with them, especially the one...Looking over to the side, he got ready to hang up the phone. "Maybe go ask her, like what things helped her through hard times. What things calmed her down. Or you could-"

"You can say ask her Dads, but I'm not doing it." Snatcher said, glaring at the phone.

"Well... I don't see why you don't." The penguin asked. "They raised her ever since they found her, the little darling must have had some truma they needed to help her get over. They're bound to know the right things to do for someone like Hat Girl or Shadow Kid to be happy, and see you as a father as well. Besides, if- huh, oh right. I need to go darling, I have to head to the studio as soon as breakfast is finished, and I don't want to waste time with my family."

"Fine..." Snatcher sighed, using the opportunity to hang up the phone. And to resist the urge to throw it at the wall nearby. "They'll be the one who knows what's best for her? Yeah right, that kid was covered in scars when she got here! They couldn't have had her in a safe place when the rocket of thier's crashed!?"

Although, he really didn't have much of a choice here, did he? He sighed as he floated to the exit of the tree, watching Shadow Kid poke at one of those glowing mushrooms. The fact he tried to kill something so much like her before was crazy to him... the fact it was crazy to him was insane. He sighed and glanced to the side. "She deserves the best possible from me... Minions! Watch Shadow while I'm gone!" He shouted, to the surprise of many nearby.

The first one to snap out of the shocked state sluted him. "Yes boss! We promise nothing in rain, snow, or fire will come and harm our princess! You can count on us!" A few others shouted in agreement as he just nodded his head. He gave a small smile and wave to Shadow, who looked slightly confused, before turning away and beginning to head through the woods. To the one place where he could get help.

-------

"What do you mean Reg-Hats is busy?!"

"'e's T'e c'eif, did you expect 'im to not be busy?" Right Hand Man sighed, adjusting his position on top of the station.

Snatcher sighed as he looked around the place faintly. The toppats were doing a decent job of things, at least as decent as they could this early on. The kids and teenagers were close together, Snatcher having to glance away once he saw Hat Girl talking with her brother. He glanced back at the cyborg. "Look, I don't know how your clan works, but I need his help so do me a favor and call him here."

"Can't do t'at" Right Hand Man said, shaking his head with a sigh. "'e's In a meetin' wit' some of t'e ot'ers about 'ow exactly we can repair t'e station. You know, make it to w'ere we can go 'ome? W'atever you need 'elp wit', surely it can wait."

"Look, techally I can ask you it, but I rather speak to him about it." Snatcher admitted as he look at the cyborg, who rose a brow faintly. He glanced down at the ground, well, there was no way getting out of this now. The half metal man would just push him to answer if he tried to hide it, after all. "It's... with Shadow Kid... I may or may not be needing some help with her. And was hoping you could help."

"Only a few days and yer already gettin' the tried dad moments?" RHM chuckle, taking in the simple information.

"Shut it." Snatcher said, giving the cyborg a glare. How dare he assume that he would get tired of his own daughter. She was the most perfect and pure thing and she... deserved so much. Especially after everything that happened to her. He looked to the side, then backed at the man. He didn't like looking at him for too long. "I'm... having issues raising her right, I can't seem to get her to see me as a Dad."

"Really? That's the issue?" RHM asked, a little surprised when he heard that.

Snatcher sighed in defeat. "Yeah... I figured that since you two raised Hat Kid and she came out fine, that you would help me get her to see me as a Dad." And to be a better father overall, but he didn't want to admit that aloud. He was trying to act like he didn't care too much about it all, he couldn't let anyone see him acting kind... weak. "So, I suppose I should ask what stuff she would like."

"'ow Am I supposed to know t'at?" Right Hand Man asked. When the ghost first showed up and came to him, he found himself wanting to do anything else. Now he found himself wanting to see how this would go. "Can't tell ya what yer daug'ter would like or not like after all. 'er 'nd Hattie, despite t'eir connection, are two completely different people at t'e end of t'e day."

"Perfect, just perfect!" Snatcher stated in frustration.

The cyborg signed, shaking his head to the side. "Look, I can't give a better answer t'en t'at, ok?Even if she acts similar to 'ow Hattie was now, she's goin' to c'ange into 'er own person. T'e second she took 'er own form, 'er and Hattie were set on two completely different paths. Any tricks I've learnt over t'e years as a fat'er isn't goin' to be of any real 'elp to ya." Right Hand Man said. "'nd Don't go buggin' Reg for a different answer, 'e would tell ya t'e same."

"But... Hattie seems to care so much about you two!" Snatcher said, and now his desperation was becoming noticeable in his voice. "You two seemed to do a perfect job of raising someone like her. And you say it won't work for me... What should I do then." He sighed as he grabbed his head, trying to think. "I shouldn't have just adopted her on instinct. I should have prepared myself before I..."

Right Hand Man chuckled at that. "Bold of ya to assumed I was prepared." The ghost gave him a confused look. "It was a few days after we first found 'er. 'ad To go 'elp Sea Division for one day. T'e second I came back Reg told me 'e adopted 'er. 'nd S'e was already callin' 'im Dad, so t'ere was no goin' back."

Snatcher let out a chuckle. It felt nice to hear about the man's struggles. But, in a sense, it felt relieving to know the man had similar issues to what he had. "Really?"

"Yea'. I t'ought it was 'opeless, to be 'onset." Right Hand Man admitted. "I'm a fig'ter. I could easily be a murderer from 'ittin' cops wit' my bat alone! I didn't see myself as a good fat'er figure. I didn't brot'er tryin' to c'ange because I knew I couldn't."

"If you didn't change, how did you get her to see you as a dad?" Snatcher asked.

Right Hand Man sighed, a small smile formed on his lips. "Well... I guess I slowly tried to get us used to eac' ot'er. Allowin' 'er to bug me wit' questions to me looking for her if Reg got worried. I t'ought that was all our relationship would be. But one day, she came up 'nd asked 'Papa. Can ya 'elp me finis' t'is one puzzle.'" The cyborg chuckled. "'nd As soon as those words left 'er mouth, I knew I was doin' t'ings right. And it instantly became one of t'e best moments in my life."

"So... I should just... let us both try and get used to each other." Snatcher asked. The cyborg gave a shrug in return, allowing the ghost to sigh. "Well... for a man that got turned into half machine, you do seem to know a lot.. thanks."

"Anytime, I suppose..." he glanced back where the teens were, seeing Platinum backup from that 'Van' kid while Hat Girl was laughing. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but the ghost wasn't as bad as he thought... Still, he wasn't going to drop his guard around him anytime soon.

The two were there silently for a few moments, before Snatcher let out a clearly fake cough. "Well I suppose I should be going! Have to make sure those minions didn't get into trouble with Shadow..."

"Sounds good. I need to go check on how the solar panel repairs are goin'." Right Hand Man stated to the ghost. He hop off the top of the station, blasters under his feet activating and keeping him in the air. He floated to another side of the station, not even bothering to say goodbye to the phantom.

Snatcher didn't let that bug him... he had a job to do after all.

-------

"Snatcher!" The young girl's voice brought worry into the phantom's soul as he approached where his tree was. He speeded up his pace, worried inside. Until the sight entered his vision. "One of the Minions got themselves stuck in the ropes!"

"Again?" Snatcher sighed triedly as he went over to the hanging minion. He ignored the nouses' calls and gently poke the minion free. "You all need to stop going up there. You can't die, but you can still get hurt!" He schooled as he floated down to the ground.

"Sorry boss. The princess just wanted to see how strong it was, so I volunteered to-!"

"I didn't tell you to do anything." The shadow child corrected meekly, glancing at the monon in confusion. "You told me 'Wanna see a trick I can do' and got yourself stuck."

Snatcher chuckled a bit, a small grin forming on his face. "Well, looks like you are guilty, aren't you?" He asked. The minion just nodded his head, before beginning to walk away. Snatcher smiled at Shadow Kid. "Good on you, kiddo. Best to call out people like that as soon as you can. Make them know it's not smart to try and lie their way out of everything!"

Shadow Kid giggled slightly. She then glanced over at the tree she and Snatcher called home, looking up slowly. Her eyes seemed to gain a bit of awe to them, and a look of mystery. She looked back at the ghostly prince. "I wonder how things look from the top of the tree."

Snatcher glanced up at the tree. With how tall most of the trees in the forest were, he forgot his was a special case. Going beyond the human, and ghost, eye. He looked down at Shadow Kid, a smile forming on his face as an idea popped into his mind. "Why don't you and me go find out?" He asked, picking her up.

She let out a gasp. "Really?!" She asked, as Snatcher reached behind himself, placing the child, his child, on his back.

"Let's go!" He said, and began to float up. Admittedly, he could probably just float right up to the top right away if he wanted too. Would only take about 12 seconds. But he decided against that. It would be better to take things slow. Shadow could end up having a fear of heights, and he wanted to be as close to the tree for when he would need to make a quick turn around to get back onto the forest floor.

Shadow Kid glanced around in a bit of awe. Everything somehow felt bigger, but also smaller from all the way up here. She felt like she was as powerful as Snatcher! She found herself reaching for a purple mushroom, when her eyes caught onto an orange glow. She looked in the distance, and saw a tower that looked like it was filled with fire! Tilting her head a little more, she soon saw one so similar, but with ice poking out in every direction! "Woah! Snatcher, what are those!"

Snatcher paused when he heard her voice, glancing around to see the two towers. "Oh! Well, to be honest. I don't fully know.”

"Wait, there's something here you don't know!?" The child asked, her surprise making Snatcher flich.

He chuckled faintly as he turned so she could get a better view. "They've been there as long as anyone can remember." Snatcher explained, a calming tone to his voice. "But no matter how close you try to get to them, you never can get there. It's almost like they exist in a different reality altogether. Some even say they might be the remains of the Moonjumper's work."

"Moonjumper?" Shadow Kid asked, as Snatcher started to float up the tree again. "What's the Moonjumper, is it like a cow or something?"

Snatcher had to hold back a laugh at that. "No, no Shadow. He was a figure of Subcon folklore that supposedly protected the forest years ago, until one day he was just... gone" He shrugged slightly. "Who knows, one day I might get around to telling you those stories.."

"I think that would be nice. He sounds almost as cool as you!" Shadow Kid called, allowing a small smile to form on the phantom's face.

It took about half a minute to finish the trip up the tree, the phantom having sped up faintly since Shadow Kid didn't seem bugged by the idea of heights. He soon floated on top of the giant mushroom top that grew from the tree, placing Shadow Kid down. The child let out a gasp, spinning around like the mist and snowflakes around them. She soon stepped a bit near the edge, sitting down as she looked at the, a bit foggy, view.

"The forest looks so beautiful from up here." She said, a soft smile and faint blush appearing on her face. She looked over as Snatcher went beside her, mimicking how she was seated the best he could in his current form and size.

"Yeah... I wish you could have seen it when it was alive..." Snatcher sighed, as he looked at her. "Such a beautiful kingdom... that might be yours one day."

"Huh?" Shadow Kid asked, tilting her head to the side faintly. "But.. you can't die?"

"No, I can't. Already done that after all." he chuckled slightly. "But I could still have the chance to move on one day. Now, I don't see that happening anytime soon, especially willingly. But, if it does happen, I need someone to watch over the forest for me. Someone who won't let the dwellers and minions get hurt." He looked at her, giving her a small smile. "And who better to watch over it than my own child."

"But... I'm not like you.. I want to be but I can't." Shadow Kid sighed, looking at her hands. Not noticing the surprised look that dawned Snatcher's face. "I can't steal souls or cast spells or anything that you can do. What if.. I can't do a good job?"

"My little Shadow..." Snatcher said, reaching for her, gently pulling the chipped soul into a small hug. "You're kind, bright, and full of hope. That alone is enough to make you the best Queen Subcon has ever had one of these days." He glanced to the side. "Although, when you're a little bit older,I suppose I can try and teach you some tricks. Would that work?"

Shadow Kid let out a gasp, nodding happily. She quickly hugged him. "That would be perfect! Thank you Papa!"

Snatcher's world slowed from a moment, everything became a blur except for his little bundle of joy he held in his hands. A bundle of joy he could no longer see himself existing without. She called him Papa... she called him Papa.... He smiled as he wrapped his tail around her faintly. "Of course, my little shadow."

It was the best moment in Snacther's entire existence.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

The Nightmare in Lawrence

Winchester Sister! Reader

Words: 3874

Summary: Having not heard from their sister in a few weeks, Sam and Dean set out to find her. They discover that she is being terrorized by a dream demon in their hometown on Halloween. 

Notes: Welcome to the final imagine in the Winchester October Takeover! I’ve loved writing all of these Sam and Dean imagines and I hope you guys have enjoyed reading them! For this, I did name it after the movie, but I’m doing my own version of dream demon. Also, this one takes place somewhere in season one. Happy Halloween!! Much love- Erin

Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural​ . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

-

Dean was worried. Sam was too, but he was still upset, so he pretended not to care. Dean was really worried. This wasn’t just skipping town and finding a case to work on her own, Y/N was gone. She wasn’t calling or texting or writing any damn letters. Just like dad. 

“She probably just doesn’t want to talk to us.” Sam noted bitterly. Dean gave his younger brother a look. 

“Arguement or not, she would call.” The youngest Winchester rolled his eyes. “I know you’ve been gone, Sam, but that hasn’t changed.” 

“Are you going to get on my case too?” Sam challenged. Dean clenched his jaw. 

“I’m just saying that we always let each other know where we are. That’s how it’s always been.” He paced back and forth around the hotel room, checking his phone again. Still nothing. 

“I thought she could handle herself.” Sam muttered to himself. Dean whirled around, grabbing his brother by the collar. 

“Alright, knock it off Sam.” He barked. “She’s your sister damnit. Act like it.” 

“She sure didn’t last time we saw her!” Sam snapped back. Before Dean could respond, his phone finally rang. Giving Sam a deadly glare, he answered. 

“Y/N? Where the hell have you been? What are you-”

“Dean… something is wrong… I’m home, but I’m not.” Your voice cut in and out, making it hard to understand your words. “You… Sam… Dean, I’m scared… this isn’t right… please… I need…” In the background, Dean could just make out the sound of a melody.

“Mr. Sandman… bring me a dream…”The call cut out. 

“Y/N!” The panicked sound in his brother’s voice broke through Sam’s bitterness. 

“What is it?”

“She’s in trouble, Sammy. We’ve gotta find her.” 

“Trouble how?” Sam knew his older sister was a skilled hunter. Maybe even better than Dean. If she was in danger, it was something big. 

“I don’t know, but I’ve got a really bad feeling.” Dean slipped his arms into his leather jacket and grabbed the keys to the impala. 

“Well what did she say, Dean?” Sam was packing up as fast as he could move, following his brother’s frantic footsteps. 

“I’m home, but I’m not.” Dean repeated, confusing forming a line between his brows. The creepy tone of the song echoed in his head. 

“What the hell does that mean?” 

“I don’t know.” Dean glanced down at the silver band on his finger. A pang of guilt and worry shot through his heart. He tried to shake all of the awful images forming in his head. “But at least we know where to find her.” 

-

Your fist was clenched around your phone and your tank top was drenched with sweat. 

“It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.” You repeated it over and over again, but the flames still burned in your head. It felt real. You threw the blankets off and held back a scream. A large burn covered your right thigh, your flesh seared and oozing. The pain spread up through your leg, making you grimace as you moved. 

The nightmare, or whatever the hell it was, was still fresh in your mind. You were at the house. You really only remembered it from pictures now, but you knew it was the one. Your brothers were with you, but you weren’t kids. Sam was coming home from college and Dean had a day off from the garage with your dad. And your mom… she was there. Everything seemed fine. You were happy. 

And then the fire started. It spread out from your mother’s chest like her bones were kindling. Your dad disappeared and your brothers changed. Their eyes were black and they were reaching out with bloody hands. It wasn’t them. You knew it wasn’t them. You remembered pulling out your cell phone and calling Dean. 

After that, you woke yourself up somehow, but not before the fire reached you. But… it was a dream. It wasn’t real. You stared down at your mystery wound. Then how the hell…

You finally took notice of the phone in your hand. It still had the last call pulled up. You hit dial and braced yourself for the panicked voice on the other line. 

“Y/N? Are you okay? What the hell happened!” Your older brother yelled. You had to hold the phone away from your ear. 

“I don’t…” You took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Did I call you last night, Dean?” 

“Yeah you freaking called me! You said something about being home and you were scared and that something was wrong. So what the hell happened?”

“Dean, you need to calm down. I’m fine. I must have called you in my sleep.”

“Called me in your-” Dean scoffed, “Y/N what is going on?” 

“Whatever it is, I’ve got it handled.” The last thing you needed was your paranoid big brother breathing down your neck on this case. You pulled your first aid kit out of your bag. You needed a clean towel. Hobbling to the door, you held the phone between your shoulder and your ear. “I don’t need your help on this one.” 

You opened the door and let the phone fall to the floor. 

“Too late.” Dean huffed, pushing past you into the motel room. To your surprise, your younger brother stood behind him, giving you a hard stare. You inhaled sharply. 

“Hey Sammy.”

“It’s Sam.” He snapped. Dean shot him a look. You moved so he could come in and closed the door. 

“What are you doing here, Dean?” You asked, ignoring the sting of Sam’s coolness. 

“I could ask you the same thing. What’re you doing back in Lawrence? On Halloween?”

“I’ve got a case, okay? My case. And I don’t need you sniffing around to screw it up.” 

“Oh my God, Y/N what happened to your leg?” Sam exclaimed, crouching down to get a better look at your injury. You shoved him away. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Dean dug through your kit. 

“Sit down.” He ordered. You rolled your eyes and plopped down on your bed, letting him examine the wound. 

“I can handle this, Dean. You didn’t have to drag Sam out here.” 

“You called me, remember? Now stop squirming.” 

“I didn’t mean to call.” You said, annoyed with your subconscious. It was just a nightmare. You didn’t need your over-protective brothers to save you from a nightmare. Even if it did somehow spill into real life. You winced as Dean lightly touched the burn. “Careful!”

“Don’t be a baby.” He fired back, but you could see the worry in his expression. 

“How did you get that?” Sam asked. He wasn’t meeting your gaze. You were sure he was asking out of mere curiosity, rather than genuine concern. You tried to think of a lie, but with both brothers’ eyes burning into you, you couldn’t figure out anything convincing. 

“I don’t know.” You gritted your teeth to hold back a pained groan. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Of course I know what I’m doing. You think I haven’t had to treat a burn before?” Dean snapped. It was half true. Sam was still staring at you. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” 

“I mean I don’t know, Sam. I woke up and my leg was barbequed.” Your brother’s exchanged a glance. Sam shifted his weight, rocking back on his heels. 

“What were you dreaming about?”

“What?”

“In your dream, was there a fire or anything that could have caused a burn like that?” He pulled your father’s journal out of his jacket pocket and started searching. You bit the inside of your cheek. If you told them, they would think you couldn’t handle this alone. And after Andrew… you had to do this alone. To prove to yourself that you could still save someone. 

“All I remember from the dream is a couple of dancing munchkins and a pair of red boots.” You spat. Sam’s lips formed a thin line, his fists balled up at his sides. 

“Okay, you two, quit it.” Dean ordered. He bandaged up the burn the best he could and helped you stand before nearly tackling you in an embrace. “I thought whatever got Dad…” He trailed off, pushing away to give you a stern glare. “Never do that again.” 

“Dean, I’m not thirteen anymore. I can handle myself.” You scoffed, feeling uncomfortable under his hard stare. 

“If you’re going to go it alone, you call me once a week. That’s the rule.” His protective arms wrapped around you again, but you didn’t fight them. 

You and Dean had always been close. With dad out on cases all the time, Dean practically raised you and Sam. He showed you how to fix up cars and he taught you how to drive them. When you had your heart broken in middle school by some asshole with a bowl cut, Dean was there to pick up the pieces- and give the kid a fat lip. He bought you your first beer and the two of you watched scary movies while Sam studied for some test. 

“I’m sorry.” You conceded. You looked over to the youngest Winchester and he quickly looked away. 

Your relationship with Sam had strained since he left for school. When you were kids, the two of you were practically inseparable. As the middle child, you were constantly resolving fights between him and Dean. Sam always went to you for help on his homework, even though he was the brainiac. You were sure he knew what he was doing, but he wanted to make you feel important. Little Sammy with his bright smile and hopeful eyes. He made you feel like you could do anything. When he left… you just felt stuck. 

Maybe that’s the real reason you lashed out at him in Omaha.

“Well, you’ve checked in on me. I’m alive.” You started to usher both of them towards the door. “I promise I’ll call next time. Bye bye, boys.” You almost had them out of the room, but Sam jerked away. 

“Wait a second, we’re not just going to leave.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Something is seriously going on here.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, Sam.” 

“Right, and that’s why you called us begging for help.”

“Well I don’t want or need your help, okay?”

“Why? Do you think I’ll screw this one up too?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “What was it you said? I should have stayed in school instead of pretending to be one of you.”

“I said a lot of things that day, Sammy.” And you regretted every damn one of them. 

“It’s Sam!” 

You hadn’t realized you were stepping towards each other until he was towering over you, seething with anger and hurt. 

“Alright, that’s it!” Dean shouted, shoving in between the two of you. He pushed his little brother back and kept his eyes on you. “Sam, go out to the car.”

“Dean-”

“Now!” 

Sam huffed and slammed the hotel room door behind him. Dean’s furious eyes remained on you. 

“He started it.” You snapped. Dean ignored it.

“Cut the crap, Y/N. We both know you wouldn’t step foot in Lawrence if it wasn’t something big. So what is it?” He was right. Lawrence was just full of bad memories that you never wanted to revisit. But when you heard about what was going on, you couldn’t leave it be. Dean put his hands on your shoulders, holding you in place until you told him the truth. 

“I got a call from a psychic named Missouri Moseley. Said she knows dad.” You started, recalling the events as you told him. “She said there were some strange deaths going on around here. People dying in their sleep, but not in a peaceful way. They would go to bed perfectly healthy and someone would find them the next morning, bloody and butchered. Each one with a look of absolute terror frozen on their face.” 

“So what’re you thinking it is? Some kind of string of hexes? Pissed off ghost?”

“No, it’s bigger than that.” You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “I did some research and I think what’s terrorizing our home town is a dream demon.” Dean made a face. 

“What, like Freddy Krueger?” 

“Kind of.” You rummaged through your piles of research on your desk until you found the book you wanted. “Like any other demon, the bastard has to possess someone. Once they do, they have the power to enter the minds of people they come in contact with.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning that they can kill someone inside a dream.” 

“So Freddy Krueger.” 

“Yes, Dean, like Freddy Krueger.” You rolled your eyes at your brother’s endless amount of references. And he called you the dork. Dean’s expression turned serious. 

“Wait, so you decided to go after this thing alone?” He asked angrily. 

“I had it covered.” 

“Obviously not, because that thing got in your head!” He pointed to your leg and you tried not to look at his face. “Whatever happened in your dream, somewhere in that stubborn ass head of yours decided to call me and I’m glad it did.” 

You knew, deep in your persistent heart, that he was right. You shouldn’t have tried to take this on by yourself. After Andrew you weren’t thinking straight. Andrew…

Dean sighed. 

“I know that things have sucked for you lately and I haven’t been there. But you have to let me be there, kid. I can’t help you if you run off on a case by yourself.” 

“I don’t need-” Looking at him now, you couldn’t lie anymore. Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around your big brother. “Thank you.” Dean hugged you back, keeping you in a strong embrace until it was time to go. 

Sam was cooling down in the car. He couldn’t get Andrew’s face out of his head. Didn’t Y/N realize that it haunted him too? That the sounds of the Acheri ripping the man apart added to his nightmares? 

Andrew was a sheriff that the three had run into on a vengeful spirit case. Instead of shutting the hunters out, he helped the Winchesters defeat the creature that was destroying his town. Y/N, despite all her walls and barricades, fell for him. Both brothers warned her that it was a bad idea, but they started seeing each other. After burning the bones, they thought the case was over. Sam was so sure of it.

He was with Andrew when it happened. His siblings were out getting more beer and Andrew was telling him that he really liked Y/N. He said he was willing to make this crazy hunter life work if it meant being with her. The guy was smitten. Sam remembered being happy that at least one of them could have a happy ending. It reminded him of his almost-life with Jessica. He should have known how things would turn out. 

The vengeful spirit was really an Acheri; a demon that takes the form of a little girl. He tried to stop it, but it was a strong son of a bitch. It was about to shred Sam when Andrew pushed him out of the way. He died to save him. 

It wasn’t until after the funeral that his sister broke down. She said it was his fault. She had suggested that maybe the creature wasn’t a spirit, but he convinced her otherwise. She said a real hunter would have known. That he didn’t belong there. He should have stayed at Stanford. Dean, of course, ripped her a new one and Sam stormed off alone. She vanished soon after. 

-

You listed every person you could remember being in contact with the day prior and Dean started the impala. You glanced pleadingly at your little brother, but Sam stared out the window. Dean gave you a small smile. 

“Let’s start with the coroner.” You suggested. “She seemed oddly eager about this whole situation.” Dean nodded and started down the road. 

You leaned your head back, feeling a rush of exhaustion. You had only gotten maybe two hours of sleep, and even then, the nightmare had kept your mind from resting. Your sudden fatigue didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Hey, are you sure you’re up for this?” Dean asked. You nodded, giving him a sarcastic thumbs up. He rolled his eyes and kept driving, glancing back at you in the rearview mirror. He put in a cassette tape and let the sounds of Metallica fill the car. Enter the Sandman. Huh. Kind of ironic. 

You couldn’t have closed your eyes for more than a few seconds. You were just so tired… 

“Dean, stop the car!” Sam yelled suddenly. Dean slammed on the breaks when he saw his sister’s unconscious face. This wasn’t a peaceful nap. Something was wrong. You started jerking back and forth, your body restrained by your seatbelt. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered, flinging the driver’s side door open and getting into the back seat. “Sam! What do we do?” Sam panicked, searching his memory for anything he knew about the demon. Unfortunately, none of the facts brought any comfort. 

“If it’s in her head… there’s nothing we can do.” He watched you thrash with a look of desperation. 

“What do you mean there’s nothing we can do!”

“Dream demons can’t be exercised when they’re in a dream.” 

“We can’t just let it kill her!”

“There might be a way… but it’s risky.” 

“I don’t care what it is, we are not losing anyone else in this family, Sammy.” Dean clutched your hand, the terror on your face shooting pain through his heart. His baby sister was crying out for help and he didn’t know how. 

“We’ve got to find that coroner.” 

-

Sure enough, you were right. When Sam and Dean found the coroner, she was passed out on her desk with a broad smile on her face. The demon must not be able to invade two minds at once. 

“Now what?” Dean asked, carrying your flailing body inside. 

“I think…” Sam hesitated. Would this really work? “I think if we can get inside the demon’s head, we can get inside Y/N’s.” 

“And kick the demon out so we can send it back to hell?”

“Exactly.” 

“How do we get in its head?” Dean asked. Sam shrugged. 

“Well, it works through who it has physical contact with right?” Dean nodded. “Well, then theoretically…” Sam slowly put his hand on the woman’s shoulder and collapsed on the floor. 

“Sammy!” Dean exclaimed. There was no other option now. He set you down besides Sam. “Don’t worry, kid, we’re comin to get you.” Without hesitation, he grabbed the woman’s arm and fell into a deep sleep. 

-

“Sam! Y/N!” Dean yelled into the dark and empty house. Sam appeared at the end of the hall. “Did you find her?” He shook his head. Dean looked around. “Where the hell are we?” 

“In Y/N’s head.” Sam grimaced, surveying their grim surroundings. He recognized it almost immediately. “This is where Andrew died.” 

The Winchester brothers tread carefully through the halls. It wasn’t until they climbed the stairs that they heard their sister’s screaming. They sprinted towards the noise, finding you in the corner of the bedroom, pinned against the wall. The manifestation of a little girl clawed a large mark down your chest. You tried to bite back your scream, but you couldn’t help it. 

Lying on the bed was the torn up body of Andrew. 

“Sam! Dean! Run!” You cried. You couldn’t bear to lose them too. They stood their ground. 

“Y/N, you have to fight it. If we can get this thing out of your head, we can send it back to hell!” Sam shouted. 

“I can’t!” You screamed again as the demon scratched your face. 

“Get away from her!” Dean lunged forward and the demon tossed him like a rag doll. 

“Dean!” Sam started after him, but the demon overpowered him as well. 

“No!” You struggled against the force keeping you back. The demon morphed into Andrew, but instead of his soft blue eyes, they were menacing and yellow. 

“This is what you fear the most, isn’t it?” The demon sneered, using Andrew’s voice against you. Sam and Dean were lifted up to the ceiling. “Losing them to ol’ Yellow-Eyes. You’re afraid you’ve already lost daddy and big and baby brother are soon to follow. You’re afraid you’ll be left all alone.” 

“Don’t listen to him!” Dean shouted. 

“Are you just going to let it happen, Y/N?” The demon laughed. “Look at little Sammy. He’s not ready to die.”

“This is just in my head. This isn’t real.” You muttered, screwing your eyes shut. 

“Wrong-o. Looks like the Winchester boys crashed the party. If they burn in here…” The demon made the motion of an explosion with his hands. He cackled at your horrified expression. You looked up at your brothers, both of them writhing from pain. Just like mom. You took a deep breath and prayed that this would work. 

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas…” 

“You little bitch.” The demon snapped. He moved forward, but was stopped by the devil’s trap that you had conjured. 

“We’re in my head, remember?” You continued the incantation. Dean looked impressed and Sam couldn’t help but smile. You had studied the exorcism together after the demon from the plane. The demon shrieked and Sam and Dean fell.

-

The boys woke up. You didn’t. 

You weren’t thrashing anymore, either. You were totally still. Dean was frozen, staring down at you, trying to hold back his pain. 

“Y/N?” Sam whispered, kneeling over you. “Come on, wake up.” He gently shook your shoulders. “Y/N wake up.” 

“Sam-”

“She thinks I hate her, Dean.” Sam cried, desperately trying to get you to open your eyes. “My own sister. I never said I was sorry. I never… oh god, she thinks I hate her!” Sam buried his head in your shoulder and Dean was forced to watch. He couldn’t move or breathe or talk. It wasn’t until he saw the slightest flutter of movement that he was able to join Sam by your side. 

“Hey kid.” Dean smiled as your eyes slowly opened. Sam snatched you up in an embrace before you could even sit up. 

“I thought you were… I was so…” He stammered, squeezing you tighter. You wrapped your arms around him, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. 

“I’m sorry too, Sammy.” 

The two of you sat there for a while. When you finally pulled away, you were immediately pulled into Dean’s arms. 

“That was pretty badass in there.” He chuckled. You smirked. 

“Well I couldn’t let Dream Douche hurt my boys, could I?” The three of you laughed. A low, rumbling growl sounded from the awakening woman. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Dean groaned. You weren’t finished yet. The demon still had to be exorcised from the coroner before it could hurt anyone else. 

The three Winchesters gathered around it and you leaned in as it’s black eyes opened. 

“Trick or treat?” You spat, landing a knock-out punch to its face.

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado​

Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy; @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87; @mrspeacem1nusone

[wellimaginethat]

Runaway Love

Pairing: Jay Halstead x (female) Voight!Reader

Word Count: 3340

Author’s Note: Um...I’m not entirely sure what this is, but I know it’s not the best and the storyline is weird as hell. This is also definitely AU because I haven’t seen all of Chicago PD and I’m just going with what I know, so I might’ve messed up on some of it (sorry). Also, could I pick a more cliche title? Lol

Trigger Warning(s): Mention of sexual assault (but it doesn’t go into detail), stalking, running away, underage drinking, alcohol, mention of drugs, mention of prostitution (literally just the mention of it because of a case)

Disclaimer: I don’t owe nor am I affiliated with any of the Chicago shows, I just like to play with the characters

Summary: Reader ran away when she was seventeen. On her eighteenth birthday, she met Jay Halstead, who was just getting ready to leave for the Army. After a whirlwind romance before he deployed out, and after constantly sending letter back and forth, and him visiting her when he could, he asked her to move to Chicago with him after he was discharged. Only for her to turn him down, leaving him heartbroken and confused.

Y/N = Your Name

Y/EC = Your Eye Color

Y/HC = Your Hair Color

It seemed like it was a fairly average case. They were trying to track down an all around bad guy, he was involved in a drug ring, a prostitution ring, and had killed at least three people.

They caught him and were taking him in when Voight’s eyes landed on a bunch of photos scattered on the coffee table, narrowing in on one in particular. He walked over and picked it up, frowning at it before turning and storming out to the guy and grabbing him by the arm, pulling him away from the officers that were leading him out to the car.

“Why do you have this?” Voight asked as he held up the photo.

The man barely even spared a glance at the photo, scoffing.

“Why do you have this?” Voight asked more insistently, this time grabbing the man and shaking him roughly, shoving the photo into his face.

The man didn’t seem to be bothered much. “I don’t know, she was just another girl that my boss wanted us to snatch.”

This affected Voight, leaving him visibly distraught.

The officers led the man away.

Jay stepped over to Voight, frowning some as he took a look at the picture, which caused a noticeable reaction.

Voight looked at him and frowned. “What?”

“I know her.” Jay breathed out with a frown.

Voight matched his expression. “How?”

“I met her in Florida, before I deployed out, at a bar near the base.” Jay explained, looking at Voight then.

“When?”

“Right before I deployed out, a few years ago.” Jay frowned deeper.

“This girl has been missing for nearly eight years, and she’s my daughter.” Voight told him.

The rest was sort of a blur for the both of them, and when Jay got back to his apartment, he dug out the last letter he received from her, informing him that she couldn’t leave her life in Florida to join him in Chicago, and started to wonder if maybe the reason she couldn’t was because she was running from something. Then he started digging through the other letters that she had written to him that he still had after all this time. He pulled out one that had a phone number, it was when she had changed her number and sent it to him so that he could call her whenever he could while he was away, which wasn’t very often but still.

He then pulled out his phone, not even considering for a second that it might be a bad idea to reach out to you, and dialed the number.

Three rings.

“Hello?” You answered the phone, a confusion in your voice like you couldn’t understand why anyone was calling you.

Jay was shocked that you answered, and hearing your voice after all this time knocked the breath out of him.

“Hell-o?” You tried again, dragging it out this time.

“Y/N?” Jay breathed out, struggling to remember how to breathe.

There was silence on your end and he was terrified that you’d hung up. “Jay?” You sounded shocked, but pleasantly shocked. “What’s going on?” You asked softly, trying to figure out why he was calling you.

“I…” He didn’t know what to say. “I just needed to hear your voice.”

“Is everything okay?” You asked, the worry evident in your voice.

“Yes and no.” Jay admitted, leaving you worried.

“What do you mean?”

“I just...I miss you.” Jay told you honestly.

Silence on your end again, but he heard your breath hitch. “I miss you too.” You whispered into the phone.

He was left not knowing what to say again. “I still love you.” He figured you’d hang up at that.

“I still love you too.” You admitted honestly, quietly. “That’s not why I ended things.”

“Then why did you?” He honestly wanted an answer, to hear it from you.

“It’s just...complicated.”

“Is it because you ran away?” He asked abruptly.

You faltered. “Wh-what?” Your mind started reeling, you knew he was in Chicago but that was the last thing you heard. Did he somehow find out about you from a missing person’s poster or something?

“I’m a cop now, Y/N.” Jay told her, like that explained everything.

“I’m confused.” You told him, which wasn’t a lie.

“Don’t play games with me.”

“I’m not.” You answered him with a frown.

“Why did you leave town?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “It’s a long story.”

“I have time.” Jay answered quickly.

“Well I don’t.” You hung up on him then, starting to think about what you were going to do. If Jay knew who you really were, and where you were living, then he could get a hold of your dad and tell him, and you knew how that would end.

That didn’t stop you from flinging yourself onto your bed and thinking it through as you laid there. If you did go back to Chicago, you’d be with your family again. Maybe you could finally have a normal life. Maybe even fix things with Jay, he did say he still loved you.

~Flashback ~ You left home two months after you turned seventeen because of reasons you’d rather not discuss. You couldn’t believe you had actually gotten away with it, you were certain that your dad would at least be able to tell what you had planned, he was a cop after all. Or maybe that your mom would have noticed that you hugged her a little longer than normal. Or that maybe Justin would’ve asked why you called him that night and talked for what seemed like forever, like you would never talk to him again. Or even Erin, you stopped by her house before you left Chicago and gave her like three hugs before you left.

It didn’t seem right. Maybe it was because you were always the good girl, maybe that’s why they didn’t notice, because they didn’t expect it.

The more you thought about it, the more your heart broke. You didn’t want to leave your family behind. 

They should have noticed something was up. They should have noticed something wasn’t right with you. They should have noticed.

You had to pull over after driving for an hour because you were crying way too hard. You weren’t even out of Illinois yet, barely even out of Chicago, if you looked in the rearview you probably could’ve still seen the outline of the city.

You didn’t know what you were going to do with your life at this point, but you knew you had to get the hell out of Chicago.

You slept in the backseat of your car at rest stops for about two weeks before you eventually stopped in Florida. Within three months you were able to get a job as an exotic dancer and get yourself an apartment. You avoided getting caught because the owner of the club you worked at was kind of a shady guy, who didn’t care if you were under eighteen or needed to be paid under the table. You liked him because he didn’t ask questions, you didn’t trust him however because, again, he was a shady guy.

By the time you were eighteen, you were doing pretty well for yourself. You made good money, but you still stayed in a cheaper apartment because you didn’t want to risk getting caught and the landlord at your current building didn’t really care about background checks or making sure the name on the lease was your real name.

You celebrated your eighteenth birthday in a dive bar. It wasn’t a horrible place, but it wasn’t the kind of place your parents would want to find you in. And that’s when he walked in with a few other guys. They were Army, you could tell that, but they were newbies. They had to be, they were too fresh faced to have seen combat.

The three of them took a seat at the bar, about six stools away from you and that was when he noticed you watching him and made eye contact with you. You offered him a smirk before turning back to your drink and next thing you knew, he was beside you.

“This seat taken?” He asked

You looked at him, smiled, and shook your head. “Nope.” You replied, popping the ‘p’ for effect.

He slid onto the stool and leaned on the bar before turning to face you. “Jay Halstead.” He offered out his hand, which you shook.

“Y/N Samuels.” You told him, using the name on the fake ID you had that said you were 21.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” Jay commented with a smile. “So what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?”

You laughed out loud. “Oh my god, is that what you’re really going with?” You asked, unable to contain the smile on your face. “Does that ever actually work as a line?”

He shrugged a bit before dazzling you with a wide smile. “I don’t know, did it work this time?”

You laughed softly this time and shook your head.

“You’re not charmed?” He asked you, teasingly.

“Not even a little bit.” You laughed.

He shrugged a bit, but his smile didn’t fade. “I am serious though, you don’t seem like the kind of girl who belongs in a bar like this.”

You gave him a half hearted shrug. “And what kind of girl do I seem like to you?” You raised a brow and smirked.

“A nice girl.” He replied honestly, the smile dropping some, being replaced with a seriousness.

You laughed but it was obviously fake. “Well you suck at reading people.”

“Do I?” He asked you, raising a brow himself.

Whatever quip you had died on your tongue and you shrugged, turning back to your drink and remaining silent.

He nudged your arm a bit. “I didn’t mean that as a bad thing.”

You shrugged again, stirring your drink with your straw. “So Army huh?”

“Is it that obvious?” He asked you, smirking, thankful the playfulness seemed to be coming back to the conversation.

You side eyed him, looking at what he was wearing. “Just a little bit.” You laughed softly.

He chuckled and ordered a beer when the bartender came over. “You want another drink?” He asked you.

You shook your head. “Nah, I’m a bit of a lightweight so I think I’m gonna stick to one tonight.”

He nodded. “So you came to a bar just to have one drink?” He asked curiously.

You smiled at him. “Well, you see, it’s my birthday and I don’t have anyone to celebrate with, and this place isn’t too far from my apartment.”

“It’s your birthday? Then we gotta celebrate.” He told you with a grin.

You watched him for a moment, slowly shaking your head. “I don’t know...I have to work tomorrow.”

“What time do you work?” He asked you.

“I have to be there at four.”

“In the morning?”

“No, afternoon.”

“Then you’ve got plenty of time to get rest.” He replied with a smile. “Come on, party with us until midnight and then you can be like Cinderella.”

You laughed. “I don’t know…”

“Okay, then how about you take it one drink at a time and leave when you want? I just think you should have a little fun on your birthday.”

You had to admit that it would be nice to have some fun, you had been kinda down before, missing your family and everything. So you nodded. “Okay, fine. Midnight and not a second later.”

Well midnight came and went and you were still partying with Jay, his buddies left sometime during this but you and Jay shut down the bar.

The next morning you woke with a pounding in your head, but it wasn’t as bad as what you’d thought a hangover would be like. You sat up and the world felt like it was spinning, and that was when you noticed that Jay was laying shirtless beside you.

“Son of a bitch.” You groaned out under your breath. Not only did you party with a complete stranger, but you brought him home and slept with him. What the hell happened.

Your movement caused him to stir and he opened his eyes, looking up at you, squinting because of the light coming in your bedroom window. “Good morning beautiful.” He murmured sleepily.

You huffed a bit. “Yeah, morning.” You grumbled as you looked away from him, you sincerely hoped that in your drunkenness you remembered to use protection.

He cleared his throat as he sat up, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Something wrong?”

You huffed again and rolled your eyes. “Is something wrong? Yes something’s wrong, I got drunk and slept with a total stranger.”

He pulled his hand off your shoulder at your tone and held both up, eyebrows raised. “Woah, we didn’t have sex.” He was quick to tell you. “Yeah I slept here last night but that’s as far as it went.”

You looked over your shoulder at him. “Really?”

“Well we did make out, but we didn’t have sex.” He added, nodding.

You sighed in relief. “Thank god.” You breathed out, then shook your head some. “Not that you’re not attractive and all, I just really don’t wanna have a one night stand with a stranger, is all.”

He nodded. “I can understand that.” He nudged you a bit. “You said you work at four, right?”

“Yeah, why?” You asked, raising a brow.

“Well it’s almost noon now, meaning you got time before you have to go to work, what do I gotta say to convince you to spend it with me?” Jay asked you with an adorable smile.

You laughed softly. “Why do you wanna spend time with me?”

“Well you’re pretty and you seem like a nice girl, pretty sure I said that last night.”

You pondered it over for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, okay.”

“Great, I got a change of clothes in the car, after I change we’ll go get lunch.” He got up and headed out of your room.

You got up too and went over to your closet to dig something out to wear, wondering if he was actually coming back or if that was just an excuse to get out of there without it being awkward.

A moment later there was a knock on your door, so you walked out of your bedroom to answer it.

“Didn’t wanna just walk in.” Jay told you, standing there holding what appeared to be a pair or jeans and a t-shirt.

You stepped out of the way to let him in.

“Bathroom?”

You pointed to the bathroom door and watched as he headed in that direction, you then headed to the kitchen to get something to drink.

You ended up spending the day with him up until right before you had to go to work, almost being late to work in fact. You got lunch together, then ice cream, and just hung out all day. It ended with him dropping you off at your apartment so you could get ready for work, and him asking for your number. You gave him your number, but you didn’t actually think you’d hear from him.

But you did, the next day. He called asking you to have lunch with him again.

And it went like that for a few days, the two of you hitting it off.

Eventually you slept together, and you figured that would drive him away. But it didn’t, again.

It was a whirlwind romance and in the span of two weeks he had told you he loved you, which you returned.

Everything was great, until one day something changed. It was almost three weeks after that fateful night in the bar, and a week after he let it slip that he loved you. It started out as a normal day for you, until he knocked on your door around eleven. You opened it and let him in, but he just stayed standing there, to which you raised a brow.

“I’m being deployed.” He finally told you once he looked at you, he stepped inside then, shutting the door behind him while sighing heavily.

You nodded slowly, knowing this was coming, he was at base training and whatnot and getting ready to be deployed, you didn’t know how long you’d have before he actually got deployed. You swallowed hard, knowing what was coming. He was going to end things. Or so you assumed.

The two of you stood quietly, a mere four feet apart, just inside the door of your apartment. You were staring at him, he was looking at his hands.

Finally you cleared your throat, which got his attention. “So what does that mean?” You asked quietly, not adding ‘for us’ although you knew it was implied.

His eyes met yours and he was quiet for a moment, still as a statue besides his breathing. “I don’t know.” He admitted quietly, still watching you.

You nodded slowly again, trying to keep the tears at bay but you could feel your resolve slipping.

He must’ve noticed because in a second his arms were around you, pulling you into a hug. “This doesn’t have to be the end of us.” He whispered to you, placing a kiss to the side of your head.

You clung to him like a lifeline, your hands gripping his shirt, tears slipping down your cheeks. “You really think you’re gonna wanna come back to a girl you’ve only known for three weeks?” You asked sadly, choking on your tears.

He hushed you, stroking the back of your head as he kept you locked in his arms. “And why wouldn’t I?” He asked softly. “I already told you that I love you.”

You forced yourself to pull away from him just enough so you could look him in the eyes. “You really mean it?” You asked quietly.

He nodded silently, a seriousness about him. “Of course I do.” He said quietly, bringing his hand up to wipe your tears.

You still had your doubts, but you nodded and sniffled. “When do you have to go?” You asked quietly.

“Next week.” He said solemnly.

You touched his cheek gently and nodded some. “Well then we’ll have to make the most of the time we’ve got left.” You said quietly.

And that’s what you did. You spent as much time as possible together, you even going so far as to take some time off from work.

And when he left, you were devastated. You kept in touch as much as you could through letters and the occasional phone call. Your love for him grew and his for you.

And then you didn’t hear from him, and you were heartbroken. Six months passed and you heard nothing, you were afraid that he had died and you hadn’t been notified because you were just his girlfriend. You even considered finding his parents in Chicago and calling them to see if they had heard anything, but you avoided doing that because you wanted to believe that he was still alive. And then you got the letter from him saying that something had happened and that he was given an honorable discharge from the Army. You immediately worried about what that could mean. And then you finally got a letter from him, assuring you that he was okay, telling you that he got out of the Army and how he hoped you would join him in Chicago.

You wanted nothing more than to go and live a life with him, but you couldn’t go back to Chicago.

~ Flashback Over ~

After fifteen minutes, you sat up in bed, your decision made. It didn’t take long to pack your bags, you could come back and get the rest of your stuff if you decided to stay in Chicago. You got into your car and began driving in the direction of Chicago, getting ready for the sixteen hour drive.

Chapter Two Coming Soon....

[drethanramslay]

A funny thing called Fate- Prologue

Pairing: Bryce X MC (Aisha Khurrana)

Word Count: 2.8K words

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Warning: None really, just a little cursing

Author’s note: I had been listening to Strawberries and Cigarettes by Troye Sivan and that is actually the primary spark which led me to come up with this series. Shout out to @mvalentine and @anotherbeingsworld fo letting me bounce my crazy ideas <3

AHHH so it is finally here!! This is my first time writing Bryce so I hope I can do justice to this beautiful man. This starts with Aisha’s (MC) POV and like I said, there will be a time jump. It would be first person when I’m writing in the past and then it will shift to third person when I’m writing the present. I think i should stop my rambling and let’s go!!

Terms you need to know-

-Bhaiya: Brother in hindi

-Beta: Technically it means ‘son’ but in most Indian families its used like a term of endearment too

- AIIMS, Delhi: Stands for All India Institute of Medical Sciences. This is one of the best medical schools in the country and Only 100 people out of 200,000(or more) get in. So it is very cut throat.

10 years ago- Aisha's PoV 

(Age: 16)

I am done.

Done with all the drama, done with all the lies, done with all the manipulations and done with all the heartache.

And most of all, I was done with him- the infamous Bryce Lahela. 

The boy with the stupid long hair, the stupid signature smirk and the stupid charm. Those amber eyes which reminded you of the sand and sea and those lips on which an everlasting smile played used to be like a breath of fresh air. I always thought that he was so unique, but boy was I wrong. 

All boys are the same.

I really thought that jocks like him would be different huh? Can someone just hand me my clown shoes?

But luckily, I don't have to see his face ever again because for once, instead of making a mockery of my existence, life decided to give me something that I really wanted badly.

A chance to leave all of this in my past. A chance to start over again.

My dad had a better business opportunity back in Mumbai. I am an Indian and we lived in Delhi since the time I was born but we shifted to Mauii when I was in the ninth grade because of how demanding dad's job was getting

Bhaiya chose to stay back in Delhi because his engineering college was there and he enjoyed the hostel life way too much. And he had finally managed to get out of our toxic household so I really could not blame him.

So yeah.. that is how I ended up in Maui in the first place.

It was okay in ninth grade. I kept to myself and blended in with the shadows (because hello social anxiety!). But... Tenth grade changed everything.

It was one of the best and worst year of my life and I often wonder if I could ever get over this.

I am definitely sounding like one of those over-dramatic Indian soap operas my mom watches every night.

"Aisha? Are you ready? The car is here beta."

"Yes, Mama. I am coming!! Just packing up some stuff."

Breaking out of my reverie, I stuffed in my phone and other essentials into my carry bag. As I was zipping up my luggage, I yanked open my closet door to see if I left anything behind my eyes landed on the shoebox I had stuffed in the back of my closet.

I gulped and I felt tears well up in my eyes again. A part of me wanted to take it for it had all the trinkets of the good things in my relationship with Bryce but, another part of me knew that if I took it with me, I would never be able to move on and that would completely defeat the purpose of this fresh start I have been looking forward to.

So with a heavy heart, I looked away and shut the door of the closet, picked up my luggage and left.

As the Uber pulled out of the curb I stared out of the window, to look at the beaches I had come to love and hate.

I liked Maui, I really did but all that it was reduced was a place where I was humiliated and belittled.

And it was all his fault.

PRESENT

(Age: 27)

"Oh my god. I'm gonna late!!" Aisha screeched as she saw the time on her phone. She shoved the duvet off her and jumped out of bed. She tried running to the bathroom in her small closet-sized apartment but it just ended up with her stubbing her toe against the coffee table.

"Ow ow ow." She cursed as she hobbled into the washroom and got on with her daily chores. Her hand-eye coordination was already awful and add that she was sleep deprived just made the entire thing worse. Stumbling, tripping, cursing she managed to brush her teeth and hop into the shower. The burst of cold water managed to wake her up as she furiously washed.

Why did I have to move into a room under a busy staircase?! This is why bhaiya says- Do your research. She angrily thought to herself as she wiped herself rigorously and zipped open her suitcase, searching for her semi-formal clothes.

Grabbing a granola bar and her trusty thermos of coffee, she was on her way to Edenbrook.

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

As she entered the atrium, she was in complete awe. It looked big and majestic on the outside, with a clever mix of brick walls and the glass facade, making it look welcoming. Sunshine poured through the atrium as the various doctors and nurses worked around her, not giving mind to the clueless intern gawking.

"Hi, I'm Dr Ines Delarosa, a senior resident!! You look lost. Let me guess... the first day of residency?" A short woman in a doctor's coat walked up to her breaking Aisha from her awe, her aura full of happiness, rainbows and unicorns which made Aisha a little vary.

Is it normal to be this happy and energetic?

Aisha nodded hesitantly and the resident smiled a hundred-watt smile. "Great. You are gonna need a photo ID. Follow me, I will get you all set up." Wordlessly Aisha followed Ines, slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder, nervously playing with the strap.

It is going to be fine... Aisha breathed out as she entered a room with a white background and a camera before it. "Just step over here, in front of the camera and smile."

And waste my energy? No thanks.

She schooled her features to be as professional as she could and the flash of the camera went off. Aisha walked over the tangled wires and peeked at the screen. A serious face stared back at her, the lighting doing good to her brown skin. Her nose piercing caught light and her dark mahogany hair was tied up in a neat ponytail.

"Is it okay? Or do I need to retake the photo?"

"No, it is great! I like it. Thank you."

"Well I will just stick this on your ID.... and you are good to go!! I wish I looked that good in my ID." She said and cheerfully and once her eyes fell on the title a smile made its way on her face,

Dr Aisha Khurrana... It is real and it is true.

"My first day as a real doctor." she whistled lowly shaking her head as if she didn't believe it.

"I was in your shoes last year. Believe me, med school was nothing compared to this. Your three years of residency will be the toughest, most amazing year of your life!! But the first year as an intern will be the craziest of all."

As soon as the smile had graced her features, it slipped away and she nodded seriously. "I think I am ready for it. I have been dreaming and slogging my ass so that I could work in Edenbrook. Ever since I learnt that Ethan Ramsey worked here. His research basically pushed me to apply for med school."

Also, the fact that my parents can like shut up about me being worthless.

"That is great. I will just walk you to the locker room so that you can change into scrubs." Ines offered and Aisha gave her a small smile.

"So... Any advice?"

"Make friends..."

And I am out. She thought to herself. She always struggled with making friends and that is partly the reason why she would keep to herself all the time. Sure she did make a few gem of a friends in med school but if she had to choose between mingling with strangers and drowning, you know what she would choose.

"... with your interns, year senior residents, even your patients! Friends will get you through anything. And, uh, try to not annoy the Attendings! You do not want to get on your boss's bad side."

"Noted."

After changing she was just passing through the waiting room so that she could get to the orientation when she heard gasps from the seating area. A woman had collapsed on her seat and the people were crowding around her.

Her instincts kicked in and she ordered. "Give her space. Everybody step back! I'm a doctor."

She hurried over to the woman just as another doctor rushes in. He kneeled at her side and checked her pulse. "Pulse is weak. She's unresponsive." He looked up and his eyes landed on her.

"You Rookie. Get here."

"Right away doctor. Coming!" Aisha hurried over as the doctor lifted the fainted woman on to the nearby gurney.

"What was she coming in for? Did she fill out a form yet?"

"No, she'd just walked in."

The doctor's piercing blue eyes landed on her which made her straighten her back. "If we don't figure out what's wrong with her fast, she's going to die on this table. Rookie, check B.P."

Wrapping the blood pressure cuff around the unconscious woman's arm and she pumped the bulb, peering at the numbers.

"It's plummeting. She's hypotensive. We've gotta get fluids in her."

Aisha's eyes wandered over the woman's form, trying to search for more clues. Her eyes landed on the rapidly forming bruise on her elbow.

"Doctor... Look at this bruise. I think it's a sign that she is a haemophiliac."

The doctor replied in a gruff voice. "You think or you know?"

"I know."

"Good. Also can you see the way her fingertips are turning blue? It is a sign of low oxygen saturation in the blood. Take a closer listen to her lungs. Hurry."

She nodded assertively and slipped the resonator of the stethoscope over the ribs, straining to hear the diminishing whooshing of the lungs which made Aisha gulp in fear.

"Can't hear anything on the left side and the right side is struggling. She is going to suffocate at this rate." She spoke up , her voice struggling to stay calm but as she glanced at the older doctor, he seemed to be as cool as a cucumber.

"Nurse we have got a code blue." His authoritative voice boomed over as the nurses bustled around the gurney.

Taking the bag mask from the nurse, he secured it around the patient's mouth and gently pump air into her lungs.

"What do we do, Doctor? What's happening to her?" She asked as she noticed the reducing breath rate.

He looked up. "Consider all the clues. It's all there. You know this, Rookie."

Aisha closed her eyes and took a deep breath, realigning her focus, delving deep into her mind, analyzing the clues.

Hemophilia... low blood oxygen... no lung expansion on one side...

Her brown eyes snapped open as it struck her. "It's a haemothorax!"

A twinkle of approval flickered in the ocean eyes, which vanished as soon as it came. "Precisely. A blood vessel ruptured and is filling her pleural cavity..."

"... Blocking her lungs from expanding! That's why she can't breathe." Aisha completed the sentence.

Fuck.

"But we can't repair the blood vessel over here."

The older doctor's jaw clenched. "Then we will have to do a emergency thoracotomy to drain the cavity instead. Nurse!"

The nurse hustles around handing her a scalpel and a chest tube, her eyes widening in shock.

She gulped, her nervousness spiking as she sees the doctor lift the shirt of the patient, exposing the side of her rib cage.

"We need a local anaesthetic-"

The doctor interrupted her. "We're out of time and she is already unconscious. Do it now, or the woman's life is on you!!"

She gritted her teeth with determination. I am not loosing a patient on my first day.

She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. It is just like anatomy class only... this isn't a cadaver but a real person.

But that statement, instead of calming her, it just caused the scalpel to shake in her hand.

The doctor reaches and encompasses her hand. "Hey... You can do this."

Aisha nods stabilizing herself and focusing solely on the older doctor's voice, before she looked down.

"There you go... Nice and easy."

Incision at the fifth intercostal space... anterior.. to the mid axillary line...

And when she was confident enough, she made the perfect incision, a trickle of red following the path of the scalpel.

"Now the tube."

She took and pushed it into the incision and with a spurt, blood started draining out of the chest cavity resulting in the patient to take a deep breath.

Holy shit I did that. I freaking did that.

In the daze of endorphins, she heard the doctor order her surgery, the nurses wheeling the gurney and the onlookers applauding.

She turned towards the attending, excitement pouring out of her in waves. "Doctor.. that was absolutely amazing!!"

It's was as if a switch flipped and the grumpier and sarcastic facade took place. "You're right. It is pretty amazing you didn't get her killed."

Aisha's jaw dropped.

"Wait, what?"

The doctor rambled off, pointing out her mistakes. "Your examination was slow and superficial. Your scalpel technique, amateur at best."

It took all her might to not scoff. 

Excuse me I graduated from AIIMS Delhi, thank you very much.

 Swallowing the dying need to go off she spoke in a professional tone. "Amateur? I'm sorry, doctor but it is my first day."

"Well, that is not an excuse you can use because if that patient would have died, the blood would have been on your hands..." He lifted the badge attached to her breast pocket scrutinizing on the surname.

"... Khurrana."

He tossed the id back to her, turned on his heels and walked away, leaving a steaming Aisha in her place.

"What a dick." She muttered under her breath.

"Yeah and I'm totally in love with him." A nurse appeared magically out of thin air near her, causing her to jump in surprise.

The kind eyed nurse just rolled his eyes and placed a hand on her shoulder which had Aisha bristling. "Don't worry about it, Dr Ramsey is like that to everybody."

Aisha's jaw dropped for the second time. "Wait... Dr. Ramsey as in Dr. Ethan Ramsey?!"

Shooting a knowing glance, he spoke up. "I take it, you're a fan?"

"He's only my medical hero and greatest inspiration. I've read all his research!" Aisha rushed off, horror and excitement rushing through her.

Oh my god I managed to piss of my one medical hero.. I'm such a dumbass.

Noticing the horror of her expression he gave a gentle smile. "On the bright side, you'll get plenty more chances to impress him."

She sighed and looked down to see that her scrubs were stained with blood.

First impression is last impression beta, always remember that. Her father's voice resonated in her mind.

"Dammit, I'm here for five minutes and I'm already a mess. I can't show up to orientation like this!"

"Don't sweat it. There are extras in the locker room. Come I will show you the way..."

She walked into the locker room, looking for her assigned locker. There was a crowd of half naked interns and after mumbling a couple of 'excuse me's', and rubbing shoulders (literally) she made it the end of the room.

As she turned she knocked into another woman in nothing but her undergarments.

"Uh...um.. okay then." Aisha stuttered as she felt the back of her neck heating up.

Thanks to my brown skin no one can see me getting flustered.

"What? See something you like?" She asked cheekily in an Indian accent which eased Aisha up a bit.

"Ha, you wish."

"Aren't you cute?" The woman snickered as she reached for her pants.

"That's what people say, so it must be true."

She reached for her full sleeve shirt before looking Aisha's way. "Desi?"

Aisha snorted. "Obviously. And I'm guessing you too."

"Of course. And I'm guessing that you are definitely not wearing those scrubs."

"What? Didn't you hear? Bloody clothes are like the new trend around here."

There was a moment of silence before both of them started laughing.

"It's good to meet someone from home." Aisha spoke as she pulled her scrub shirt off.

"Woah, woah, woah. Don't count on that yet. I need to see if you are gonna get in my way in this competition."

Aisha smirked as she shut her locker. "Can't say I'm surprised. Can't be desi if the sense of competition isn't ingrained in your DNA."

"Oh my god never thought that I would see Jackie's twin." A familiar manly voice wafted over to them.

Wait a second...

"Shut up scalpel jockey, this is our kind of bonding."

"Oh please, don't scare the newbie aw- oh."

Oh.

She was standing right in front of him. Face to face. The playful amber eyes, with flecks of brown hadn't changed. The long shoulder length hair had been cut and styled to be short and messy.

There was no trace of the surfer boy she met in Maui. He was a man through and through but still, the youth in his eyes poured out in waves, reminding her of the sandy beaches.

But right now those amber eyes were wide with shock.

It's not everyday that you meet your ex of ten years in the locker room of your new job.

"Aisha?"

".... Bryce?!"

HEHEHEH AWKWAARRDDD

Like, comment, reblog and let me know what you think 

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[loveislattes]

Take You Away (DarkXGN/AFAB!Reader) Chapter 1

Commission prompt: 

Dark/afab gn!reader: the reader is naturally submissive with a praise kink to end all praise kinks—dark likes to fluster & tease the reader with praise until all they can do is whine and whimper needily?  Mixed with- DarkxReader- Dark is a mythical, eldritch, being who lures curious souls into his forest. Similar to InfelixXReader.

Alright, if you know my writing by now, you know I almost always gotta come up with a back story. So this first chapter is all world building and fluff. 

Only warning for this first chapter is it talks about the death of a grandparent.

@underthedark13

@moriimae

@oi-fischfuck

@beck384

@book-of-roses

@therealcap

It was fitting, empathetic almost really. Grandma had cried herself practically empty and so the clouds above were drizzling their own tears for the family. A melancholic smile turned your lips up the slightest bit as you watched your grandma get up from her second home in the dirt of the small garden, wiping her hands clean on her old apron. It wasn’t until you realized she was going to attempt to carry the over-filled basket of vegetables that you finally sprung into action.

“Hey, why don’t you let me carry that?” you offered gently.

At first, you thought she was going to refuse your offer, that familiar stubborn look coming into her eyes until she relented with a sigh. 

“I suppose,” she grumbled.

After handing off the basket, she took a few of the potatoes and carrots off the top. 

You offered her a grand smile and said, “It’s the least I can do after lazing around and just watching you do all the actual hard work.”

“Yeah yeah.”

She waved you off and started toward the back door but not before you spotted the little grin she now had. It felt like a victory of epic proportions after how down everyone had been the past few days. The toll of your grandpa’s death had dealt a mighty blow, which is why you were staying an extra week at home with her. Not that you minded. You needed the break from work and it had been a long time since you’d seen her in person. 

“You coming or not, child?” she chastised warmly from the doorway.

Chuckling and giving her a little shrug, you replied, “Yep, sorry! Got lost in my thoughts.”

It amused you to no end that, despite being over eighteen for however long, she still called you child just like when you stood at her knee height. Some things never changed. Just like how she stood at that same spot every night to cut up the ingredients for supper, and how she always kept her coffee mug just a little too close to the edge for your liking. 

Setting the basket on the floor by the pantry, you slowly worked to get all the vegetables put away while listening to the steady chopping of the knife on the board and the gentle sound of her humming. The instant you were finished, you joined her at the counter.

“Uh-uh. You know I love you dearly, child, but you’ve been clucking around me like a mother hen all day. You and I both need a break. Leave me to do my work and go get some fresh air. Maybe go see if that Walmart boy you used to like so much remembers you.”

At the mention of your middle school crush, the Walmart greeter who was at least a generation older than you, you barely managed to hold in a cringe-laced groan.

“Uh, no thanks. I’m good on that front,” you muttered, rapping your knuckles on the counter rhythmically, “But I’ll find something to do.”

Before you had even finished the sentence, you knew exactly where you were going. You’d been dying to explore the woods outside the house since the day after the funeral but didn’t want to leave your grandma alone too soon. You’d spent most of your summers there as a kid until your parents stopped bringing you here.

“Go. Have fun. Act like the young adult you are and get into a little mischief. Not too much though!” 

You slipped your jacket on and called out a reminder to your grandma that you were only a phone call away before running out the door. You noted, thankfully, that the slow drizzle from before had lightened up even more into a sparse sprinkle so you had the option of keeping your hood down. As your feet moved towards the familiar path through the back gate, your mind began to wander.

You knew it was a stupid hope. It had been over a decade since you’d last visited, so logically you knew that the little meadow you had claimed as your own so long ago might not even exist anymore, but you just had to see. Every summer when you’d come to stay with your grandparents, you’d spend hours upon hours in the woods exploring. The plentiful greenery served to be your escape from reality. You imagined colonies of fairies and hollows of trolls, eternal life springs, and animated Ents. At the center of it all had been the one and only imaginary friend in your childhood; a man named Dark. 

As you got older you realized there had to be some psychological reason you had imagined a distinguished eldritch being in the forest named Dark as your friend for many years but you never did figure out the reasoning. 

“To be fair, my childhood wasn’t that great,” you muttered to yourself. 

While contemplating the psychological impact a rough childhood might have on one’s psyche and emotional growth, you continued on the long-familiar path, somehow traipsing carefully around every root and limb with precise muscle memory that shouldn’t even exist. 

“Well, well, what do we have here? Little Mx. Red has come to see me again after all this time?”

The sudden deep voice nearly sent you careening to the side out of pure shock and terror. Your eyes swept from the forest floor to the clearing you hadn’t even yet noticed in front of you. And there he sat, the perfectly imperfect being of your dreams, in the same delicately grown throne of vines and limbs that you remembered from so long ago. Just as stunning as the first day you’d seen him. 

“Dark?” you asked warily.

A sly smirk parted his lips as he tipped his head your way.

“Mx. Red.”

As your brain fought your tongue to find some semblance of words, your eyes danced over him and soaked in every visible inch. You didn’t quite remember him being so… attractive. Then again, you were a child the last time you had seen him. With his pristine white suit and contrasting black shirt, he painted a portrait of class, but his unshaven face and messy black locks gave off the exact opposite vibe. It would almost be funny how human he looked if it weren’t for the fact you were utterly transfixed. When he suddenly lifted a wine glass to his lips and took a sip, it broke whatever spell you had been under.

“Wait, you remember me?” you finally asked in return.

“I remember everyone that I promise to save.”

A little bout of excitement and embarrassment wriggled through your gut uncomfortably as you thought back on everything you ever told him. So many secrets. Blown way out of proportion thanks to a child’s view on life. 

“Yeah, about that. I thought some stupid stuff as a kid. I wasn’t really being treated as badly as it seemed, at least not as bad-”

At an inhuman speed, the eldritch being leaped from his throne and came to stand mere inches from you, interrupting your train of thought and forcing silence to blossom in the slight space between your bodies. 

“Don’t. Do not compare your plights to others. Their pain does not lessen yours,” he demanded roughly, “Alas, you seem to have forgotten that I was able to see into your head and verify your fears.”

With the touch of his fingers to your temple, suddenly you were transported back a decade: Tiny little you standing face to face with the kneeling man whose face was screwed up in concern. The strange little twirl of magic that danced along your skin and billowed your hair around you. The exhilarating excitement of being allowed tea parties with playful imps and fairies. The twisting feeling of defeat when you’d have to leave at the end of each summer. 

Your legs went weak beneath you and your stomach felt like it was dropped miles below as you were suddenly back in your adult body. You braced for impact with eyes shut tight only to be yanked into the firm planes of another’s body. Through process of elimination, your mind brilliantly deduced that the only person who could be holding you was Dark and immediately your face began to burn hot. You jerked away quickly and he relinquished his hold with grace but kept a steadying hand on your shoulder. 

“My apologies,” he spoke softly, “Are you okay now?”

A little nod was all you could manage in return but that seemed enough to soothe his worries. 

“It seems that it’s been long enough since I’ve looked into your mind that your body has built up a resistance.”

“That’s… interesting?” you murmured uncertainly, “It might also be the shock of discovering that you’re actually real and not a figment of my imagination.” 

He watched as you shoved your hands into your pockets nervously but didn’t say anything in return. The weight of his eyes was heavy and built the intensity brewing in your belly to a boil. So many conflicting emotions were assaulting your mind and body that you physically couldn’t handle much more than staring back at him just the same. And at the same time, everything was suddenly serene, down to the muffled humming of the forest creatures around you. 

You weren’t sure how long it had been before the first chirping ring of your phone went off but suddenly you were alerted to the fact that you were standing much closer than you had been originally, a trembling hand halfway up to his face. Said hand instantly shot into your jacket pocket and brought your cell to your face.

“Uhm, h-hello?” you answered meekly.

“Dinner’s almost done. You coming back soon?” your grandma asked, the sound of a pot lid banging in the background.

“Sure thing. Be there in a few,” you replied. 

When you looked back up at Dark after shoving your phone away, you were surprised to find him with a little smile on his face.

“Go. I will be here when you return. I’m always here,” he coaxed.

You licked your lips nervously before giving him and slight nod and saying, “I’ll be back in the morning. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

[hqprotectionsquad]

Dating! For Science (Kuroo x Reader)

this is for my bestie, ate, and just wonderful person to know, io!!! i’ve gotten to know you over the past few months from the network and let me tell you, it’s probably the best decision i’ve made concerning this fandom. i know this isn’t easy, but you take all of your responsibilities with such grace and i’m always inspired by you. i don’t know anyone else who would have their nickname on the server be writeiolite (lara’s #1 fan) and that just makes me so happy. you make me so happy!! because of you, i have true friends from around the world and of different ages and i actually write!! i’m so honored to know you and i just love you so much. thank you for being you, io! i hope you have a wonderful birthday <3

summary: Kuroo’s tweaking his AI program for his senior thesis and he just needs one thing left to make this true to life: a fake girlfriend. After deliberation, you step in so that he can avoid hurting his reputation and another girl’s heart. What could really go wrong? pairing: Kuroo x F!Reader tw: cursing word count: 3010 a/n: lightly inspired by Black Mirror and the episode “White Christmas” even though that episode doesn’t really have anything to do with fake dating? i was more inspired by their ability to go into someone’s mind, thus leading to the AI aspect of this fic!

There's something about Kuroo that has always drawn you to him. Maybe it was his eyes, his height or hair. You still don’t quite know. But ever since your second year of college, your eyes never left that rooster-headed man. Lucky you; he chose the seat next to yours over the other ones in the lecture hall because he claims you had the best spot, so "sitting next to you is the next best choice."

It's been two years since then, and he won't leave you alone. He insists this is for the best because his best friend doesn't attend college near you two and you're the closest friend he has. Over everyone, Kuroo Tetsurou chose you and will continue to choose you, and you don't really understand why.

The moonbeams shoot into the room through the window. Lately, you've been needing to stay over at his apartment, just to make sure he's still alive. He's been begging the world for his artificial intelligence program to work. He wants something fresh and unpredictable to present for his senior thesis, something that his classmates would envy at and the committee would be in awe of. He'll defend his program swinging, you know that for sure. After moments of just sitting on the edge of his bed, watching him hunch over his desktop computer, the chair swishes and he turns to look at you. "(Y/N), can you proofread this for me?"

“What is it?” You stand to get a closer look and you guide the chair back to the correct rotation. Your arm hangs around his shoulders as you slot your eyes to see better. “Is this a—”

“It’s a girlfriend application.”

“Tetsu, what the hell?”

“What?” His palms face towards the ceiling as his forehead creases. “I need to make my AI as accurate as possible. How else am I going to make it realistic?”

Now, you tilt your head. “You...you’ve never had a girlfriend?”

Kuroo’s lips drag into a frown and he shuts his eyes for a few seconds as if he’s shutting off the rest of the world. “You don’t have to say it like that.”

“But Tetsu, you’re so charismatic. I thought you must have had a few girlfriends by now.” You think back to all of the times you’ve attended parties with him. He’s essentially been the life of the party and he’s always had people surrounding him while playing beer pong or just funneling drinks down his throat. How could have not had a girlfriend at this age considering his background?

“You don’t have to shove it in my face.” Kuroo drags his fingers down his eyes, nose, and lips. 

“You’ve had hookups, I’m sure?”

“Yeah, but a girl sneaking out of my bed at seven in the morning isn’t the same as having a full-on relationship.” Under his breath, he says, “I wish it was because then I’d be having hookups left and right.”

“You’re so weird.” You laugh at his comment and soon enough, he’s laughing along with you. You settle back on the edge of the bed and he follows suit.

His body weight sinks into the mattress, bringing part of you down with him. "It's one of the last parts of the project, and you know I've been working on it for a while now. I just want my program to be as real as it can get. I know it'll be flawed, but I've got to try to make it perfect as I can, you know?"

"Yeah." You mutter, trying to drown out your blaring thoughts. What you're thinking right now...it's absurd and you shouldn't have it on your mind. But if it all worked out, then maybe you'd— "Kuroo, what if I was your fake girlfriend? For maybe a month, give or take. This way, you don't scare people off and you're with someone you already know."

You can tell he's considering it, based on the way his eyes dart in many ways. "But shouldn't the point of dating be that you get to know someone new?" Kuroo's eyebrow slides up and it's hard to believe that he's never had a proper relationship before. "I know you fairly enough."

"You know me as a friend. It's different when you approach someone as a girlfriend and it's different when it's a hookup," you justify. "I don't even know your favorite color, and I'm pretty sure you don't know mine."

"Isn't it purple?"

You'll be honest, you've never really considered yourself as a "favorites" person who naturally sought out what they loved the most. You found better use of your time instead of boring through magazine quizzes to show what you liked the best. But after thinking, you shake your head. "It's red."

“Why red?” He asks and it brings you back to all of the photos you’ve seen of Kuroo in his old high school volleyball uniform. He’s shown you many and when you first saw them, you were surprised he didn’t comment on how you were biting your lip or looking back and forth to see how he’s changed. And he really hasn’t done much of changing except for growing an inch taller and his hair being somewhat neater, but he looked so confident when he was on the court. The red fabric of his uniform hugged his figure in all the right places. The photo where he’s speaking to all of his teammates—would it be wrong to say you swooned? 

It’s his color. Even now, if he searches through his drawers and checks his hangers, his current wardrobe will have splatters of red all over. Maybe red wasn’t really anything to you until you met him. Because it is his, it is now yours.

“Because it’s a passionate color. It’s love, anger, pain; it’s everything.” For a moment, you forget why you’re here and you have this stupid grin on your face, and then you remember and reality pulls you back. “I’ll be your fake girlfriend.”

“Are you sure? Because I don’t want this to be the reason why we end up falling apart, because you’re a really great friend to me and I love our friendship—” He’s speaking at a pace of a million miles a minute and you’re lucky you can even hear the words he’s saying.

You nod your head once. “I’m sure.”

While you don’t start off anything that day because Kuroo said he wanted to plan everything out before you begin, you also take that day to just be friends and bask in the current relationship you have with one another. Everything’s going to change from this point on, and you know it and he knows it.

You’ve got to admit it; the next time you meet, you’re scared of what’s to come. How do you greet him? How will he take all of his emotions and collate it into data for his prototype? Don’t you feel like you’re being used?

But you volunteered for this. You told him he should date — fake date — someone he already knows. You just wanted that person to be you. Seeing him with someone else would just be twisting a knife into your side. At least you get to control your feelings in this situation.

“(Y/N), it’s good to see you,” Kuroo greets you as you find him in the restaurant you were meeting in. He stands to hug you and you’ll admit, he’s actually trying to form a meaningful relationship, of some sort at least.

“Thanks for buying me dinner, boyfriend,” you wink as you say the last word. He even pushes in your chair when you go to sit. Kuroo settles across from you. He mentions something about already ordering for the two of you but you can’t really focus because he’s wearing an outfit you’ve never seen before. Yeah, those are jeans and a t-shirt, but his winter coat hugs his sides in a way you’d never expect. Your hope is that he actually dressed up for you.

After a waiter comes by your table to place your plates of noodles, Kuroo unloads his information for the AI prototype and he’s not afraid to release it all at once.

“So I have these guidelines I typed up for you,” he hands over this folder. It’s incredibly neat, as you expected of him, but there has to be over ten pages in here. Guessing by the first page, none of the papers will have blank space. “It’s just outlining my hypothesis, my expectations, all of that. You might not have to read it all because it's mostly for my records, but I highlighted the things that I think would be most helpful."

You wipe your hands with the napkin from the table and sift through the materials. "Tetsu, you highlighted mostly the whole thing," you mutter. Taking a glance at the expectations page, you raise your eyebrows. "You said that you expect to not fall in love with me?"

Kuroo bites his lip. "It's more like if I write that down, then it has a better chance of coming true. You'll only need to date me for as long as I need to collect experiences and data. I don't want to let you go as a friend."

You don't bother to respond because you've moved on to the rest of the page. "Wait, you want us to consummate our relationship?" You say this almost too loudly, and Kuroo taps your hand repeatedly to tell you to lower your voice. You press your palm to your lips and after seeing nobody is looking in your direction, your hand returns to the table. “Are you being serious here, Kuroo?”

Kuroo sighs. "I was just thinking that sex would also help in gaining experience."

“You’ve had hookups before.”

“Well, isn’t sex different if you have it with someone you’re dating?” Kuroo can’t quite meet your eyes when he says this.

“So what, we’re essentially friends with benefits now?” You bite back your silly smile and wait for his reaction.

His mouth opens and closes. Finally, he says, “I don’t want to say yes, but basically.” After a beat, his words rush out, “You’re still my girlfriend. That’s established. Girlfriend with many rules and such. Fake girlfriend.” He emphasizes on the word fake, and suddenly, it becomes your least-favorite f-word.

Still, you smile. “Fake girlfriend it is.”

You’re thrown into everything pretty quickly. He introduces hand-holding, and soon after, kisses. He’ll come pick you up after your classes for dates. “For science,” he says all the time. You really can’t believe he’s not your real boyfriend because he’s such a great kisser and after this all ends, his lips will no longer belong to you. Your heart says you should, but knowing he literally writes down his observations after you do anything romance related, your brain says absolutely not.

Now, it’s been about three months since you’ve began “dating” Kuroo Tetsurou. He blames the duration of time on the project, and now, this contracted relationship has an "indefinite" completion, says Kuroo. Through all of the dates, cuddling, and etcetra, he’s probably the best boyfriend you’ve ever had. That’s not saying too much, but whoever you date next will not be able to match up with Kuroo. There are definitely times when you forget that this is all for his artificial intelligence thesis because it all feels so natural, especially when you hold his hand while walking down the street, and when you catch him smiling down at you just for a few seconds. He’s not perfect and you hate it when he talks with food in his mouth, but everything else is pretty good.

Or at least you thought.

“(Y/N),” he calls out when you’re at his apartment on a Saturday afternoon. Nowadays, you’re at Kuroo’s place. You have study sessions with him, eat dinners, and close off nights with his arm around you when you watch a movie. He’s seen almost all the parts of you and you don’t even mind. He molds a spot for himself in your heart and he doesn’t even know it. All he knows is that you’re the fake girlfriend for his project, and maybe a trial girlfriend before he truly finds the one he loves.

You’re digging into the refrigerator, scanning the shelves and drawers to find a perfect movie snack. Would chocolates and gummy worms go well together? Or maybe fruit for a change...

“(Y/N), come here,” Kuroo reiterates as he’s relaxing on the couch in the other part of the apartment. After you find your snacks — you give into the dark chocolate to pair with the salty popcorn — you make it over to the living room, settling the candy on the coffee table.

“What’s up, babe?” Pet names flow out easy like the water in a river and you don’t know when it started, but it turns out Kuroo has taken a particular liking to this one. You settle in close, tucking yourself into his side with his arm still resting on the top of the couch.

“I was thinking about the AI thing,” Right, because this isn’t supposed to be real. “I think sex is the next thing we have to accomplish and I think that’s essentially all I need for the project.”

You have to blink a few times, just to make sure those were the words that came out of his mouth. You shift your body to face him and you’re no longer pushed to his side. “That’s it?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Kuroo shrugs with his lips pressed together. There’s a chill that rushes through your body. You should have stuck to the contract because you know Kuroo did. You know that he did not stray from it for a second, despite all of the hugs and kisses you’ve shared. You knew this was coming, yet you still don't want to see it in front of your face. The two of you live in this cloud of smoke that this project has forged, and Kuroo will be fanning it away soon.

You don't know what to say anymore. On one hand, it would be simple to ignore your sense of direction and throw away every platonic feeling you have for Kuroo, just to try and work out a relationship without strings. On the other hand, your actions directly affect Kuroo and you'd feel horrible if you messed up his project, whether if it was because you abandoned ship or acted on your feelings and your relationship turned sour.

Any way you think of it, nothing comes out right.

“(Y/N), come on, talk to me.” He pats the hand that rests in your lap, but still, your head won’t get out of this fog. Is this what it’s been this whole time? You should have paid more attention to yourself, to see the exact point where you let yourself go and live in this cloud of smoke.

“I don’t know what to say.” You don’t look at him. “Is it wrong to say that I don’t want to do it? That I feel used?”

“You said this was like friends with benefits when we first began. You saw and read everything in the folder I gave you. This isn’t supposed to be real, we were supposed to be together for this project.” Kuroo sighs. “For God’s sake, (Y/N). You offered. You literally offered, and you did not have to do this.”

If you felt like crying before, well, now you’re really crying. You’re trying to have some sort of semblance of a composure, but with you wiping your eyes with the back of your hands every few seconds, it’s hard to know what exactly you’re feeling.

“(Y/N)...” Kuroo longs to reach for you, but you shift farther from him on the couch, making creases in it. You’re sure he feels like the bad guy now, but this is nothing but your fault, and you’d like to own up to it, if only you’d stop fucking crying. “(Y/N), come here.”

When you finally look up at Kuroo through your oceans of tears, you can’t tell if it’s your currently impaired eyesight or if he’s also shedding a few tears.

“Look, I like you a lot, and I like you romantically. I won’t lie about that. I have for a long time, and when you said you’d be my fake girlfriend, I was scared. I’m not the best at knowing lots of things that aren’t academic, but I know for sure that these things never turn out right.” Kuroo takes your hands when you inch toward him. He rubs the back of your hands, the pads of his fingers sopping up your fallen teardrops. The man here is unfolding the hardened layers he used to have, revealing his softer insides. “Fuck, maybe I thought,” Kuroo stops to stand and pace back and forth in the room you’re in. “Maybe I thought if I threw myself into my work and take everything logistically and treat it like a project with no feelings, then it could all be justified in my head.”

You don’t know what else to think, so you just do.

You mute his next words with your lips and when you release, you’re sure you look like a mess with the tear stains along your face, but he tells you you’re beautiful anyway.

“Be my girlfriend. My real girlfriend. Nothing for the project, though I’m pretty sure I had enough data from the point of two weeks in.” There’s Kuroo’s cheeky self, the one you’ve known and been longing for.

“You’re so stupid.” You roll your eyes. “God, my boyfriend is so stupid.”

He lifts you into a bridal carry, the crook of his elbow caressing the back of your knees. “Do I still look stupid?” But he doesn’t let you answer his question. His lips are on yours. Your hands press against his cheeks and his hair brushes against your face.

“I like you a lot, stupid.”

“And I like you a lot too.”

general haikyuu tag list: @dorkyama @kingkags @clowninfortodoroki​ @ykchaos​ @kingkagss​ @alienvarmint​

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[oyesmendes]

wildflower - calum hood

a/n: i’ve had this storyline sitting in the works for days soooooo.... its gonna be a couple of parts so lets see where this takes us ya? full of dialogue and unnecessary descriptions. 

summary: after a nasty breakup, Karla Rivera finds herself working as one of the new producers/songwriter for 5SOS. She had no intention to fall in love right now, but one conversation struck a chord with her. In between producing a smashing album and writing hit singles, Karla finds herself entangled in the arms of a man who she never thought she’d end up with.

“Alright boys, as much as I love working with you guys, I think it’s time I bring in someone new.” Andrew says as he shuffles around the kitchen of the Malibu beach house. The boys had rented this place out for a month to work on their new album, as well as to take a short break from tour. They had only arrived yesterday, but things were already starting to bloom and they had a few songs on their hand they thought would fit the album.

“What do you mean? Are you leaving us?” Luke sat up in his seat. All the boys were sprawled in different corners of the kitchen, munching on their breakfast before the day of writing began.

“I’m not leaving, just bringing someone new in.”

“Who? And why do we need someone new?” Andrew could only roll his eyes at the question, downing the last bit of his coffee before throwing it into the sink.

“You’ll know her when she gets here. She’s talented, and I think she could provide something fresh.” He looks at the time on his phone, “She should be here soon, just play nice”

The boys all gave each other looks. They haven’t really stepped out of their circle of people when it came to music, so working with someone new and not to mention a female songwriter, could really give them a whole new perspective on things.

Karla finds herself sitting in the car for way too long. She was parked outside a gorgeous beach house on the quiet side of Malibu and she was dressed in an old concert T-shirt she had stolen from her brother, along with a pair of shorts and sneakers. She takes three deep breaths and gives herself a small pep talk before climbing out of her car. This is your job she reminds herself, it’s something you love to do.

When Karla first received the phone call from Andrew, she was reluctant to move even an inch off the bed in the guest bedroom of her brother’s apartment. All she wanted to do was shove down another pint of ice cream and watch old re-runs of Real Housewives. She knew her brother was the culprit behind the phone call, filling Andrew in about her breakup with her boyfriend of three years. Andrew had blown up her phone afterwards, calling Karla every single day until she finally agreed to come write with him for a week. Though it was a good intention, trying to get Karla out of the house, Andrew knew it was also her prime time. The overwhelming emotions she felt more often than not would be translated into the most beautiful words, and she would produce sounds unheard of. So here she was, standing in front of the door of the house. She had her water bottle and duffel in hand, notebook, phone and iPad in the other. The white door swings open, and Andrew pulled her into his arms immediately,

“There you are!” She returns the hug, a genuine smile on her face after finally him in the flesh. Andrews pulls away, hands clasped to her upper arm and he takes a good look at her. Karla thanks god for the Benefit concealer she’s slathered under her eyes or she’d be getting an earful from him. He grins at her and pulls her into the house, down the hallway to the living room where she spots the four boys with their heads buried in some form of instrument or notebook. They don’t take notice of their presence at first until Andrew clears his throat, and the boys look up at him.

“Boys, this is Karla Rivera, she’ll be working with us for the week!” Andrew says a little too enthusiastically. Karla gives them a small wave, and she notices the look that the boys give each other. They were unsure of her that was for sure, having not met her before. Ashton stood up first, Karla reaching her hand out but the boy pulled her into a single arm hug. She laughed when she was caught off guard by him, which set the boys smiling as well. Calum, Michael and Luke followed after, and they were settled down at the couch so they could show her what they had been working on.

-

“This is good… maybe we can add a bum bum bum.” She hummed a tune the boys had never heard before, and Andrew scrambled to play it on his guitar.

“And then for the lyrics maybe we could do - killin’ me slow with the words you wrote, the heart you broke…” Karla paused to scribble words onto her notebook before singing out, “calling my name, I don’t wanna stay but I’m wide awake, I’m wide awake.” Everyone in the room was in shock at how naturally the words flowed for her, this being the second song that was almost done and definitely had potential in being on the album. There was a lot of humming and words being muttered under their breath, until Calum shot up from his chair.

“How about - just one more taste of you my love. Then we repeat the first two lines? This could be the chorus!” Luke was already by the piano, playing out the melody and singing to the lyrics they had just written down.

“Thin white lies”

“What was that, K?”

“Add the line of thin white lies after that line that Calum just said, have someone sing it in the background or something.” Andrew looked to the boys who followed suit, their eyes widening when they heard themselves perform it. Karla had a wide grin on her face when she heard it unfold, her eyes meeting Calum’s who looked equally as satisfied. They still had a long way to go with empty verses that needed to be filled, but this was a small victory worth celebrating.

“Holy shit.” Ashton mumbled after hearing the small part.

“I told you she was good.”

“Didn’t tell me she was that good.” Andrew smirked at him before working to compile all the components of the chorus together. After the chorus came together, everything else in the song fell into place easily. All four boys worked on the lyrics with Karla, who made the words fall out of their mouths. They had almost the entire song written from top to bottom, the melodies and layering all in place, and they were just missing a bridge and outro.

“We could just stray away from the conventional structure” Michael suggested, but Ashton shook his head.

“No, it feels like something is missing.”

“How about…” Karla had her head in her notebook, flipping through the worn out pages of it. She often dug through the words she had written before but never used, and they would often be essential in a situation like this. Her finger ran across the page that was filled with her scrawly handwriting just a week after her breakup, and that’s when she found the exact words.

“I don't think I like me anymore. Can someone tell me who I was before? We can repeat this twice, I think it fits.” Calum writes it down on the paper that they had the lyrics on, and Luke proceeds to sing it out. Those words definitely fit. They all cheer, high-fives thrown among each other. Karla smiles softly, celebrating with the boys. They take a fifteen minute break for Andrew to record everything down, and Karla took this chance to step outside on the balcony. This was her favourite kind of view - watching the sea crash into the sand, the sun shining above the horizon and a few people laying on the beach having a good time. She thinks about all the time she’s spent at the beach in her three year relationship. How they’d spend every important date in their lives celebrating in the salty water, getting sand so far up their ass they’d shit sandcastles for days. She laughs to herself then shakes her head out of those thoughts. It’s been a whole month since that faithful day, she’s got to get over it. Just as she was about to go back inside, Calum startles her with his voice and she jumps.

“Jeezus, you couldn’t be any stealthier huh.” He chuckles, and Karla notices how his eyes crinkle.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” She gives him her middle finger, and he stands next to her, admiring the view as well.

“What you did in there, those words were really cool y’know?”

“Thank you.” She says shyly. It’s been nearly five years since she started working as a songwriter, and she still couldn’t handle compliments well.

“Those words came from somewhere?” Karla knew where this conversation was going, but she wasn’t ready for it yet. She nods to Calum, then shrugs her shoulders. He understands and doesn’t push the boundaries.

-

They worked on a couple more songs before they called it a day. The boys had all agreed that Karla brought something different to the table, and pushed them to a whole new level they never knew existed. The lyrics were definitely more vulnerable and honest, and they were enjoying every single moment of it. Food and beer was strewn all over the table, the boys chatting about the next leg of the tour and what not. Karla was the first to notice that Calum wasn’t in the room with them, and she looks around only to find him on the balcony, a cigarette in his hand.

“You know, one too many of those and you could die.” It was his turn to jump, and Karla smiles at him when he dramatically raises his hand to his chest.

“I’d die of a cardiac arrest first.” She playfully shoves him, then moves to take her place on the outdoor sofa. Calum joins her and the pair stay quiet for awhile, just watching as the waves crashed harder on the sand.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Karla hums in response, her eyes closed as a cool breeze passes by. Calum places his hand on her knee, squeezing it slightly to get her attention. Her eyes flutter open and she looks at him, brown eyes and all, just staring at her.

“It just reminds me of my ex.” She sighs, leaning her head back on the chair.

“What does? The ocean?”

“That, and everything else. It’s like I wake up and all I can think about is how awful I feel without him by my side.” His heart scrunches up at her words. He’s finding the right response to her statement, racking his brain for the exact words. But is there a correct response to such a statement? Her voice gets him out of his head, and he’s listening intently again.

“He cheated y’know? I wasn’t in town and he fucking cheated. Had sex with a girl on our bed.”

“A fucker.” Calum seethes. He hears her chuckle and it confuses him for a moment before she speaks up, “that’s an understatement.” Karla leans on his shoulder, a soft sigh escaping her lips. She felt a sense of relief admitting this to someone other than her brother or her best friend. And it felt good to finally get her emotions out on to paper and into a song.

Calum felt his heart race at a dangerous speed when her head came into contact with his shoulders. It was unlike any other feelings that he’s had before. He finds himself being curious, wanting to get to know more of her, and so desperately wanting to feel her touch against his skin. They sit like this for a long time, the sound of the waves and soft music in the background. He leans his head onto hers, humming a soft tune every now and then.