#a fire alarm just went off somewhere in my house for like 2 seconds and scared the shit out of me

[lunarscaled]

stop shaming my pillow pile love okay. it's mine. :I

"If your pillow pile is the only love in your life, I feel like that's kind of sad."

[muuurder]

Finally, someone who doesn’t baby Brahms all the time! I literally got giggly with your headcanons bc I think the same for him as well. A lot of people keep watering down his character as the “man baby who can’t cook, clean himself, or do this or that” and it’s kinda frustrating to see others not understanding his character more when writing about him, especially since there’s evidence he’s capable of a lot of things. I actually find it quite funny when people draw Brahms that way however when it comes to writing him… Anyways, I would love to hear more of your headcanons! It fills my hyperfixation on him (as there’s literally only 1-2 posts each day for Brahms).

Also if you don’t mind, you can skip this part if you want, what do you think about the theory of Brahms parents starting the fire in order to cover up what Brahms did? I’m staying on neutral ground for this but I do think it’s an interesting theory.

It’s funny you mention that theory 👀

So for me personally I don’t exactly think it was to cover it up, but I do think they started it. Personally, I retcon everything that is the boy 2 (though I loved the main character child who was mute. He did amazing but I think it was shit writing and a cop out because the actor who played brahms pulled out and for good reason too.) so without acknowledging the second movie here’s my personal take. I am currently a psych student (and while I am very much not an expert like I can’t stress it enough I’ve got Swiss cheese brain,) and from what little I’ve learned usually children who were at brahms age (8 years old) aren’t exactly capable of processing death. Obviously it varies case to case but on an overall scale, he’s not able to comprehend it. I personally think Emily cripps death was an accident. Maybe they went to play in the woods rough houses and she fell cracking her skull open. Or maybe she was picking at him (cause honestly emily looks older than brahms. Grant it girls tend to grow taller first compared to boys, but overall she looks like she’s 10.) and I personally think brahms has autism and/or bpd (I touched on it In another ask I did you might have to sift through my blog. Sorry it’s a chaotic enigma of everything I love lol.) but I think he might have been forced to hang around her for family ties and potential future relations (arranged marriages etc etc.) this was inspired a bit by a fic I read though I forget the name of it. If I find it I’ll post it. But I think he might not have enjoyed being around her as much as Everyone believed. His father describes him even at a young age as “odd” which to me feels like they had a son late in life and he wasn’t neurotypical. He is less sociable, doesn’t fit into their rich lavish life and fit the perfect image they have. So I think there was already resentment a little? So imagine their reaction if Emily was playing and picking at him, maybe he pushed her and she fell. After all her head was cracked open. If she fell and rolled off the rocks she hit it could look the same. A lot of Emily’s death is rumor and gossip in the town. Imagine brahms nudging her thinking she just fell asleep but she’s not moving. He gets freaked and runs back fussing she won’t wake up and she’s being mean. Alarm bells are going off for his parents. I think they didn’t like their son because they clearly hated it he deviated. They were strict, had a specific image and didn’t make much room for change that was clear as hell in how they treated greta and brahms if I’m honest. And I think it’s fucking weird his parents deadass didn’t tell anyone and participated and hosted a search party for a girl they likely knew was dead. I think they were more worried about how this would look and instead of getting their son help even if it was intentional (though again that’s still on them because they fucked up somewhere in parenting, though again I believe it was purely accidental) and with this new situation coupled with previous resentment over their son not being normal (aka I Headcanon his parents are ableist) they had their son wait somewhere. Locked him in, and didn’t realize he knew the walls because he explored in his free time. And they set it on fire before the police could show up to question the young boy. (Because btw he wouldn’t have been tried as an adult. He’s too young and again can’t even conceptualize death let alone fucking fake it like ???? That was his parents.) and I think they had no fucking clue he was alive until they heard him calling from in the walls now with burns. And even the. They didn’t get him medical attention they stuffed him in the walls and pretended he wasn’t there as he grew. They gave themselves a do over because they felt they fucked up and that’s why their son was how he was. Their love was and has always been fucking conditional. That’s my personal take of a theory.

As far as a Headcanon, I’m reaching a text limit so have this one: he about cried the first time he had a fresh meal out of the walls. Potatoes just aren’t the same after their frozen and he simply can’t go back. He loves hot home cooking (pair that with southern cooking he’s inlove lol)

[afro-hispwriter]

ALICIA CLARK X FEM DIXON READER

After Ricks disappearance (twd) and Fixing the plane era(ftwd)

F/I- first initial

Warnings- language, implied smut

a/n- i wrote this a long time ago, its been posted on on wattpad for a while so i decided to post it on here… Enjoy!

Rick was gone, things were falling apart. Your dad, Daryl left the communities to join search parties all the way until he was the last one searching. Michonne and you wanted to keep looking but her pregnancy was to far along, and you basically took care of her and Judith. The atmosphere feels familiar just like when Carl died, you and him were best friends, you supported him in every one of this decisions even helped him get with Enid.

But this felt worse.

The person who has made sure everybody survives is dead. The man who was a mentor to you, the man who saved your father in countless occasions is dead. Morgan left almost 2 years ago and nobody heard from him. You knew Rick and him were close, he helped Rick when he came out of hospital. He deserves to know what happened and you will make sure of it.

-

"I want to go out and see the world for myself and I want to find Morgan." You said at dinner to Michonne and surprisingly who joined your dad.

"Excuse me what, you want to leave a whole state and travel to Texas just to see the world and find Morgan and for what?" Asked Michonne raising an eyebrow. Your dad sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"I agree kid. Why?" He asked looking at you.

"Ok first I'm pretty sure I'm 18, I'm supposed to be enrolling for college planning out my life, seeing what else is out there. I can take of myself of the time I have been surging in this world I can make it I'm sure if it. And second all of us know how much Rick meant to Morgan, I can go to Texas and tell him what happened maybe he will even come back even if it's for a little bit." You said enthusiastically. The adults shook their heads taking in the information.

"I'll think about it." Said your dad and Michonne nodded going back to eating.

"There's gotta be another reason you wanna leave." Said Daryl as you walked to your home.

"I already said why Dad." You said looking ahead

"No, you didn't I know ma own kid." He said stopping and he grabbed your arm so you would stop as well making you roll your eyes.

"I hate the atmosphere that is going on, it's like when Carl died but worse and I hate it. I just need to go, I need fresh air Dad, i need to see whats out there maybe even help people." You said throwing your arms in the air looking up at the sky. Daryl smiled, you would always talk about helping people when you were just 4 years old. But now that the apocalypse happened he never thought he'd actually have to let you be on your own anytime soon, maybe it was time.

"Alrigh I'll talk to Michonne tomorrow, I'll get ya that trip." He said and you smiled before pulling him into a big hug.

"Thank you father." You said and he chuckled.

-

"Ok y/n, ya have a high range walkie(i know those don't exist for very long distances)for when you get farther and farther away from ere and you have food to last a month or so and water for a week or two. And gas in the car to last Ya couple miles at least to get out of Virginia. A map, a gun with 2 rounds, and please try to put notes or something out there to tell me your alive, please I don't want to go out lookin for ya. Cant loose you kid." Said your dad who it was clear was very nervous on letting you leave.

"I'll be fine dad, I have been taught from the best of the best." You said and then you saw his eyes water.

"No, no dad don't cry because then I will. We have to be strong i promise I'll be fine. We agreed on 2 months if I'm gone more than that or if you don't hear from me when those months come to an end you come looking for me." You said holding back the tears.

"I know kid, I know it's just ya growin to fast." He said looking at you.

"Fuck it come ere kid." He said and pulled you in for a tight hug. You hugged him back hard, soaking up his affection, which definitely doesn't come everyday. You pulled away and looked up at him.

"I'll be fine dad ok, I'll be back." You said and backed up, everybody stood around and you waved before looking at Michonne and pointed at her belly.

"I better be godmother when I come back." You said smiling

"Yes ma'am." She said with a smile on her face. You got in the car and turned it on, you had some doubts on leaving but knew this has to happen. Your dad came to the window and leaned on it and you took in a breathe.

"Please don't loose yourself, if you have to stop stop. Don't leave the people who care about you." You told your dad and he sighed knowing exactly what you meant by that. He was looking for Rick so much it was taking him away from you. Daryl stepped back and you smiled at everybody and waved.

"I'll be back in 2 months I promise." You announced and they all smiled, you put the car in drive and drove off watching the gates close behind you.

"Y/n can you hear me." Your dad said over the walkie and you grabbed it.

"Yeah dad I can hear you."

-

You got to Tennessee right before the car stopped. You sighed and looked around to see if there was anything a car or a store. You grabbed the walkie and took in a breathe, please work, you thought.

"Dad can you hear me?" You asked and heard static then his voice.

"Ya I can, ya alright?" He asked

"Ya I'm fine, I'm in Tennessee but I think that soon probably a couple more miles you won't be able to hear me so im starting with the notes." You said and held back tears.

"Alright I love ya." You heard him sniffile before the walkie went out.

"I love you to dad." You said and out the walkie away and grabbed the pack. You opened the pack and grabbed the note book and pen. You wrote, STILL ALIVE- F/I, and looked for a place to put it. After an hour you found a gas station and put the note on the counter under a rock.

"Dad not sure if you can hear me but, if you do come for me I'm leaving notes in stores." You put the walkie back and grabbed your knife and stabbed a walker that came for you.

-

Almost 13 days (that's what google said). 13 days and nights of running and hiding from herds. Avoiding people, some you had to kill. Your feet hurt even after taking a days break in Arkansas but you finally have reached Texas. Not knowing where Morgan is you decided to use the walkie every few miles in. You looked at the map and Texas was huge, it could take a few weeks to find him, if he is even alive. But you needed a break so you needed to find somewhere safe. You found a house that looked safe enough so you cleared it, only 3 walkers where in it.

You set up a fire and out a can of beans over the fire. You grabbed the map and decided where you should head to next.

(A/n- I read that season 5 of fear is filmed in New Braunfels, Texas and its near Austin soon)

Austin, Texas, in school in Alexandria the teacher said Austin is pretty popular. Morgan could be there so that's where you would start. You took a 2 days rest and even found a lake to bathe in, after getting supplies you made your way to Austin. You left a note at the WELCOME TO TEXAS sign and left another at store the another. There was a hotel a little father form the house and out another there.

After a day or so you were closer to Austin and decided it's time to try with the Walkie.

"Morgan, it's Y/n I'm in Texas, I don't know if your alive but I'm here." You said and put the walkie away after no answer. You walked for what seemed hours when you saw the Austin sight and grabbed the walkie.

"Morgan I'm in Austin." You said into the walkie and decided to start trying different channels as you repeated the question though each. You tried the last channel and was about to put it away when you heard voices and your heart sped up.

"Morgan?" You asked and kept moving the circle to hear it more clearly.

"John, June you there." Someone said, it was a deep voice and noticed it was Morgan's voice.

"Morgan, Morgan, it Y/n Dixon from Alexandria, please hear me." You said pleading to yourself.

"Y/n wha-." He started. "What are you doing out here so far, where are you?" He asked.

"Umm I'm by the Welcome to Austin sign. Where are you maybe I can find you." You said and out down to the ground pulling the map out."

"I have two people close to you y/n, don't be alarmed their names are John and June." He said and you sighed.

"Ok." You said wearily.

"John, June did you hear that." Asked Morgan and a female bodice came through.

"We hear you Morgan, on our way Y/n." A man said.

"Hang tight y/n." Said Morgan and you sat back. You grabbed a paper and pen and wrote. FOUND MORGAN. You sat there for a while when a car approached and stopped next to you, you raised you knife reading to attack of nesassary. The window went down and the man and woman out there hands up.

"Hold on hold on young lady I'm John and this is June, we come to get you." John said and you hesitated.

"We won't hurt you i promise." June said. You nodded and grabbed your stuff and opened the car. You sat down and watched John and June's every move.

"So where did you come from?" Asked John and you sighed.

"Long story." You breathed out a laugh and they smiled.

"Guess we will know about it after you meet Al." Said June and you cocked your head to the side.

"Who's Al?" You asked wearily.

"She was journalist before and she interviews everybody on their stories." Said John and you nodded.

-

"Morgan, who is y/n?" Asked Alicia as she and Luciana approached him.

"She's comes from Virginia and Alexandria like me, she's around your age Alicia." Said Morgan smiling and Alicia rolled her eyes.

-

The car came to a stop out some gates and they opened. The car pulled in and people crowded around. John and June got out and your door opened revealing Morgan. You got out of the car and hugged him before pulling away to look over all the people. It was a whole bunch of little kids then a whole bunch of adults.

You looked around and your eyes fell on a very pretty girl with brown hair and hazel eyes. Her eyes where on you but they seemed defensive like yours at the moment. You felt uncomfortable and Morgan said to clear a path so you could sit down.

-

"I have been walking for almost 20 days, Car broke down when I reached Tennessee." You said to Al and she smiled. Everybody else was sitting around eating dinner as they heard your story how you arrived here.

"You have any family, back in Virginia?" She asked and you nodded.

"I have my dad, and more people who became my family, we have lost some but they will never be replaced." You said.

"Lover?" She asked and you shook your head no.

"Nope pretty much a virgin." You said and they all laughed.

Alicia started at you slowly relaxing that you were not a threat, all of them did.

"Why did you come here?" Asked Al and you sighed.

"I was 12 when the world started, I'm like 18 now. I'm supposed to be enrolling into college now, planning out my life going to go see what's out there. The apocalypse may have happened but I still want that chance. And Morgan I need to tell you something, privately." You said and he looked at you concerned. He gave Al a look and she shut the camera off then got the film. He stood up and you followed, he stopped just a few feet from everybody and waited for you to speak.

"Ricks gone." You said. "Gone not dead, just gone it's like he disappeared." You said looking down, thinking about that day.

"Wha- what how, what happened." He asked.

"Bridge explosion, he saved everybody." You said and Morgan nodded then you heard someone clear their throat.

"I'm sorry Morgan." Said June, you looked at him confused.

"I told them about Virginia, they how me and Rick go back." He said and you nodded.

"They haven't the body?" He asked and you shook your head.

"No, my dad, he has been looking out there by the bridge everyday, Michonne is pregnant with Ricks kid and she's about to give birth so she can't look anymore. And I was practically taking care of Judith so I couldn't either. And others have their own thing." You said and Morgan nodded again before walking off. You sighed and and smiled at the group.

"Anything else you guys want to know about me?" You asked and Al came forward.

"I want to know about the king and the tiger." Said Al and you nodded walking back to the fire.

-

You told everybody what you needed to know. Your guard was down long ago, you kept sneaking glances at the girl who's name is Alicia and she looked back at you as well. You got ready for bed when you were approached by Alicia.

"We never had a formal introduction, I'm Alicia Clark." She said holding her hand out and you shook it.

"Y/n Dixon."

You talked the night until you fell asleep from exhaustion. You learned about her family, all the things she has been through and you shared hers. She told you about her boyfriends and you felt a pang of jealousy, 'Gosh y/n you don't even know this girl,' you told your self. You fell asleep after an hour and Alicia put a blanket over you and whispered goodnight and left. You woke up the next morning feeling refreshed and got up. You looked in the mirror and braided your hair into two. You went outside and the people started building some type of plane. You approached Alicia as she was talking through a microphone looking at parts. She saw you approach and she smiled, you then looked up and saw a plane.

"Hey what's with the plane, didn't see that last night?" You asked Lucianna as you approached her, she smiled and sighed.

"A few weeks ago we were on a plane and we crashed landed a few miles from here, we actually came from here at first so we came back. Those kids they left biters out there tied up to keep us away, because it's not safe. We gained their trust and we are building this plane so we can get out of this place." She said sun you nodded you looked over the people and your eyes fell on him.

"Dwight?" You said sternly and he looked at you eyes widening.

"Mini Dixon, what are you doing out here?" He asked and you glared at him grabbing your knife when you felt a hang go to it, you saw Morgan shaking his head to stand down.

"What are you doing here, I thought you were dead?" You asked him.

"I'm lookin for Sherry, my wife, not trying to cause any trouble." He said and raised his good arm as a surrender. You nodded and stood down every body who watched went back to what they were doing. Alicia came in-front of you with a concerned look.

"So what's your story with him?" She asked

"He served the man who killed two people of my family and kept my father in a cage keeping him like an animal." You said looking at her with hard eyes.

You lended you knowledge on fixing things with the plane. It's clear they were grateful on your help, you fixed the engine to the best of your ability.

"Y/n want to come with me to a ware house, we need more parts." Said Alicia and you nodded. You made your way down and smiled at her.

-

Small Alicia POV

Gosh she is so beautiful. I met her yesterday and I feel like I have known her since forever. Call me crazy but I'm starting to get feelings for her already.

-

Regular POV

The butterflies in your stomach were almost painful when you were near Alicia. She was gorgeous, you felt like you could tell her everything and you almost have from Atlanta to now. You grabbed your backpack, emptying it out of anything that was worth leaving just encase. You took your knives and gun and left to find Alicia. She was waiting outside a car and got in when she saw you. You sat in the drivers seat and looked to see if anybody else was going, luckily no one was there.

"Anybody else going?" You asked and she shook her head.

"Do you have a problem with it, because I can get someone to come with us may-." She started but you shook your head no.

"I have no problem at all." You said and winked making her cheeks flush red. She drove to the warehouse and she told you the parts to look out for as well as food. You took out two walkers with your knives and looked back to see Alicia looking at you with awe.

"Never taken out biters with knives really." She said chuckling. You looked down and saw a metal pole that was sharpened at the edges.

"Well I mean that pole is badass, where did you get it, might need to get myself one." You asked.

"A water park." She said smiling and you nodded.

"Alright tell you what I teach you how to fight with knifes and we stay a little longer to find a pole similar to yours. Deal?" you asked holding your hand out. She thought for a second and took your hand and shook it.

"Ok come here stand in-front of me." You said as two walkers approached you both. She stood infront of you and you handed her your knives, you stood close to her.

"Now, you going to want to dodge them, go in between them. Remember you have to use strength to kill them just cant push it in. I'll be here just encase." You said. The walkers go closer and Alicia tightened her grip on the knives.

"Go you said." And she ducked as they swung at her, you backed up out of reach then one by one they were both put out.

"That was great, remember you gotta faster and if you have someone behind you, let's say as kid you have to push them back, maybe use you leg or arm. Even an adult if they don't notice you have to act quick." You said and she nodded cleaning the knives.

"Thanks I'll definitely use that, after I find knives." She said.

"If you can get a hunting knife there much stronger and lighter." You said and she nodded. You found a majority of the parts needed and headed back to the car.

"I found this." She said and handed you a metal pole with holes in it. You grabbed it and smiled at you, you got one of your knives and it's holster and handed it to her.

"Thank you Alicia, as a true thanks here's one of my knives, work with one just for now you will go better I just know of it." You said and she smiled brightly.

"Thank you, now let's get back and we can sharpen the edge." She said and started the car.

You kissed her cheek and pulled back getting a red face. You looked at her though the corner of your eye and saw her face was red.

-

When you arrived back to the truck stop, she helped sharpen the metal pole. You and her had a flirty thing going on for the rest of the month until you started feeling sexual tension start to arise. The stares would last long as well as lingering touches, she thought you how to use the pole and you taught her knives. Everybody shared their knowledge with you and you did with them.

The plane was just about finished when you realized if they finish the plane you may loose them, loose her.

"So, where do you guys plan on going after getting the rest of your group?" You asked Alicia as she ate dinner, sitting on the ground.

"Not sure, definitely leave this area." She said and you nodded seeing how bad the area is, you sat down next to her and she offered some of her dinner but you waved it off.

"Maybe fly to Virginia." She said lowly and you looked at her like she was crazy.

"I'm just playing can't risk another crash, especially where the girl I likes home is." She said and looked at you. Your face went red and the butterflies in your stomach, she grabbed your chin and pulled your face closer to hers.

"Y/n Dixon I like you a lot, it's ok if you don't but-." She said but you silenced her with a kiss. She pulled you in harder making you moan, she set her dinner down and you pushed her on the ground, straddling her. You looked up and saw there were people still around so you pulled away.

"Want to take me to your tent?" You asked and she nodded, you got off her and held your hand out which she gladly took. She led you to her tent opening it and pulled you inside. You slid your shirt off and she did the same.

She looked at yours left arm and stomach and noticed a beautiful tattoos.

(This but all around the forearm)

(Something like that)

"Didn't know you had tattoos." She said and scratched her head.

"Oh yeah... do they bother you?" You asked.

"No no they are actually really hot." She said making you blush. You walked over to her and pushed her onto the makeshift bed.

"Wait crap I've never had sex with-." She started and you kissed her.

"It's ok, I'll teach you." You said and she looked at you confused.

"After Carl died, his girlfriend, Enid, and me got close and we ended up in bed together. It was just one night didn't mean anything." You said and stroked her hair.

"Didn't say that in the interview." She said and leaned back letting you crawl on top of her.

"Some things are just not to be meant to be said." You said and winked at her. You went down and captured her lips, she raised her hands and caressed your sides. You laid down on her putting your weight on her body making her moan.

"Just relax let me do the work." You said and trailed down her stomach.

a/n- once ftwd season 6 comes to hulu I’ll be able to continue my part 2

[bomberqueen17]

wacky family story part 2

so Thursday Farmsister and I went out with Mom, and picked her up and dropped her off at home, so here’s the second wacky thing from that evening.

We arrived at Mom’s at like... a bit before dusk. Maybe 7:30 or 8pm. The sun was beautiful and golden and illuminating the foliage in glorious ways. We all got out of the car and Mom went inside to get money to repay me for buying dinner. (I tried to decline, but. Moms.)

Farmsister went and took down the flag. Dad put up and took down a flag every day, on the flagpole out front, took the flag down in the rain, etc. Very conscientious. Mom’s keeping it up, because why not.

I took a photo, so I’ll cut. Golden hour, sister taking flag down, very artsy. The weird thing is afterward. Not much more punchline than the other, but I’m telling it for posterity’s sake.

(Mom’s front yard is full of semi-shade-loving flowers but it looks like a field here, LOL.)

Anyway. We were just getting into the car to leave, and suddenly a beeping noise started.

“Your smoke alarm is going off,” I said, and we all ran inside to check the different smoke detectors. It wasn’t the one in the back staircase. it wasn’t the one in the basement staircase. It wasn’t the one in the front staircase. It stopped, and we all stood in the middle of the house, conferring.

“Well,” mom said, “clearly the house is not on fire, so--”

It started going off again. It really sounded like the back staircase one, but I went and stood right under it. It wasn’t.

“Oh,” FS said, “It’s in the office. It’s somewhere in this room. It’s here.” I came down from the staircase and had enough time to realize it was quite a bit louder just the other side of the wall, into the office, and then it stopped again.

“We know it’s in this room,” I said. “And in fact probably on this piece of furniture.” There’s a low filing cabinet against the south wall of the office, and the top of it has several baskets containing an assortment of random things.

I peered down the back of the cabinet and found a single six-sided die and a photograph of my late paternal grandmother. Farmsister pawed through one of the baskets and came up with--

“That’s the smoke detector that used to be in the front hallway,” Mom said, astonished. “It kept going off and I made Dad take it down, and he was mad because it was one of those ones that was supposed to last ten years but can’t be removed without deactivating it.”

Dad had hearing loss, and couldn’t hear smoke detectors really at all, so he hadn’t found it that distressing-- or useful-- to have the smoke detector go off at all hours.

FS turned it over. The switch had been clicked from active to deactivated, but wasn’t fully seated in the inactive position. “Why is it still here?” Mom asked.

“He was probably waiting for whatever materials it is to have a special disposal day,” FS pointed out charitably, but really, Dad was just not great at throwing things away. Mom has been discovering that the barn is full of very neatly sorted things that are indeed tidied by category, but had not been removed.

“Can we throw it out now?” Mom asked.

“Yes,” FS said, and went and put it into the garbage can. If it goes off again out there, it won’t be audible in the house, or to the neighbors for that matter.

[ketamineharry]

Rose Pt 2 - Joshua Bradley

Requested: No, this is the second part of the Doctor Who au. This part is slightly longer than the first at an almost 3,000 word count. I really do hope you enjoy this as it has taken me forever to write it. Lots of love, as always xx

You sat in your front room, the familiar domestic style of your ordinary life being a vast difference from the experience that you were dragged into mere hours ago. Your mum, Jackie, as much as you loved her… was always a bit over the top, always had something to say or brag about. Always wanted the Earth to centre around her.

“The whole of Central London has been closed off as police investigate the fire. Early reports indicate.” The news reporter stated. The anxiety and severity of the situation, hadn’t yet sunk in. You were barely able to keep a track of your own thoughts.

You slumped down into the sofa, hoping that if you slipped down far enough, that it would swallow you whole and that you wouldn’t have to continue processing what had gone on. It was crazy to even think about, and you couldn’t talk to anyone about it, because as the Doctor had stated, it would get them killed. You were stuck between a rock and a hard place, as the saying goes.

“I know. It’s on the telly. It’s everywhere. She’s lucky to be alive. Honestly, it’s aged her. Skin like an old bible. Walking in now, you’d think I was her daughter. Oh, and here’s himself.”

Your boyfriend, Mickey flopped down on the sofa with you. His face is the picture of concern, as he takes your hand in his.  

“I’ve been phoning your mobile. You could’ve been dead. It was on the news and everything. I can’t believe that the shop went up!” He exclaimed, his voice frantic. Laced with worry. His eyes searched your face for some sort of answer, some sort of explanation.

“I’m alright, honestly, I’m fine! Don’t make a fuss.”

“Well, what happened?”

“I don’t know!” You exclaimed, frustrated with the fact that you couldn’t tell your boyfriend. The one person you were supposed to confide in, with everything.

“What was it though? What caused it?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t in the shop.”

“It’s Debbie on the end. She knows a man from the Mirror. Five hundred quid for an interview.” Jackie said, her excitement clear.

“Oh, that’s brilliant! Give it here.” You said, as you snatched the phone out of her hand and disconnected the call. The measures that you were having to undertake to protect people were beginning to mount up.

“Well you’ve got to find some way of making money. Your job’s kaput and I’m not bailing you out.” She told you, quite matter-of-factly.

The phone rang again, your eventful night being the gossip of the tower block so it seemed. You just wanted to be able to go to bed and try to forget about it. But, you couldn’t do that, until everyone that knew you, or knew of you was reassured that you were safe.

“Bev! She’s alive. I told her sue for compensation. She was within seconds of death.” Jackie said, as she made her way through the flat, presumably so that she could work herself up and get excited and not have you bring her down about it.

“What’re you drinking, tea? Nah, nah, that’s no good, that’s no good. You’re in shock. You need something stronger.” Mickey said, trying to convince you to come out, for an alcoholic beverage. As much as you would usually be down for it, the thought of having to face even more people with even more questions, was exhausting.

“I’m alright.”

“Now come on, you deserve a proper drink. We’re going down the pub, you and me. My treat. How about it?” He asked, as he playfully pleaded with you.

“Is there a match on?”

“No, I’m just thinking about you babe.” He stated, simply.

“There’s a match on ain’t there.” You said playfully, a broad smile spreading across your face. The small normality of your boyfriend trying to persuade you to go to the pub with him, so he could get drunk and watch the football, was a comfort that you didn’t know that you needed.

“That’s not the point, but we could catch the last five minutes.”

“Go on, then. I’m fine, really. Go. Get rid of that.” You instructed him, as you threw him the plastic arm that the Doctor had pulled off of the mannequin a few hours beforehand. You just needed it out of your house, so that you could continue to try and live in some sort of normality and repress the memories of what the afternoon and the evening had presented you with.

Mickey quickly gives you a soft kiss, before taking the arm and getting ready to leave.

“Bye, bye.”

“Bye.” You respond, as you gave him a small wave.

As Mickey was leaving, he pretended to strangle himself with the arm. He would never know just how chilling that imagery would be for you, and you could never explain. Or else get him killed. For the safety of everyone you knew, you had to pretend that you were fine and you had to pretend that you knew nothing. Quite the burden to carry on your emotionally exhausted shoulders.

--

You woke up to the sound of your alarm clock, blaring beside you. Begrudgingly, you stopped the sound and went to get out of your bed.

“There’s no point in getting up, sweetheart. You’ve got no job to go to.” Jackie’s voice called. Sending you into a vivid reminder of what had happened the night before. Perhaps, it would be best to go back to sleep for a little while.

--

You were sitting at the dinner table with Jackie, discussing your future or what was left of it. You had to find another job, but everything that was available or was suggested to you, just didn’t seem like the right fit. You couldn’t force yourself to work somewhere, when it just wouldn’t work. You just weren't that type of person.

“There’s Finch’s. You could try them. They’ve always got jobs.” She suggested. You knew that she was just trying to be helpful, but there was no way that you could work in a butchers.

“Oh, great. The butchers.” You groaned. You were fed up of trying to sound grateful for each suggestion, because they weren’t helpful and these weren’t jobs you could see yourself enjoying. After all, she was your mum and you had hoped she would’ve known you better than this by now.

“Well, it might do you good. That shop was giving you airs and graces. And I’m not joking about compensation. You’ve had genuine shock and trauma. Arianna got two thousand quid off the council just because the old man behind the desk said she looked Greek! I know she is Greek, but that’s not the point. It was a valid claim.” She said, as she danced her way back into her bedroom.

Once Jackie was in her bedroom, the cat flap at the bottom of the front door began to rattle. A telltale sign that although you had instructed her to pin the cat flap down, because you didn’t want to have strays coming into the tiny flat, that she had in fact not listened to you. As it seemed like the cat flap was able to move freely, for it to be making all of that noise.

“Mum, you’re such a liar. I told you to nail that cat flap down. We’re going to get strays.” You complained.

“I did it weeks back!” She protested.

“No, you thought about it.”

As you bent down to try and see what was going on, you noticed four silver nails sitting comfortably on the floor. Something had managed to unscrew all of them to be able to try and get through the cat flap. Without warning, it moved. Cautiously, you pushed the cat flap back, in an attempt to see what was going on, on the other side of your door. It wasn’t a total surprise to see the Doctor, the stranger that had saved your life the night before on the other side. Quickly, you rose to your feet and opened the door for him.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked, confused.

“I live here.”

“Well, what do you do that for?”

“Because I do. I’m only at home because someone blew up my job.” You explained, a slight hint of anger to your tone.

“I must have got the wrong signal. You’re not plastic, are you?” He asked, as he made a fist with his hand and gently tapped it against your head a couple of times. “No, bone head. Bye then.”

“You. Inside. Right now.” You instructed him, as you took his arm and successfully pulled him into the flat.

“Who is it?” Jackie asked, from her bedroom.

“It’s about last night. He’s part of the inquiry. Give us ten minutes.” You explained as you walked past her room.

The Doctor stood in the doorway, you couldn’t make out much of their conversation, but it seemed like Jackie had attempted to try and make a flirtatious advance onto him, which he had rejected.

As he joined you in the living room area, you felt a sense of shame. The clutter of your everyday life was on show. From magazines, to a deck of cards, the television set sat proudly in the corner of the room. The domesticity seemed alien to him. Like, he didn’t have any of these things himself and it concerned you. Perhaps, he was just some loner who in playing the hero had gotten himself attached to you and now you had let him into your house.

“Don’t mind the mess. Do you want a coffee?” You asked, breaking the silence that had filled the room.

“Might as well, thanks. Just milk.”

“We should go to the police. Seriously. Both of us.” You suggested, as you tried to think of a way to end the nightmare that you had found yourself residing in.

“That won’t last. He’s gay and she’s an alien.” You heard him mumble.

“I’m not blaming you, even if it was some sort of sick joke that went wrong.” You said, in an attempt at comforting him.

“Hmm. Sad ending.”

“They said on the news that they found a body.” You told him.

“Y/N Tyler.”

“Ah. Could’ve been worse, look at the ears.”

“All the same, he was nice. Nice bloke.” You said, as you continued trying to explain Wilson to him, but it seemed like he either wasn’t all that interested or couldn’t hear you.

You could hear that he was trying, and had failed to shuffle a deck of playing cards.

“Luck be a lady.”

“Anyway, if we are going to the police, I want to know what I’m saying.” You began, only stopping as you heard the deck of cards he was attempting to shuffle, fall to the floor. “I want you to explain everything.” You continued.

“Maybe not.”

He stops for a moment, as if he was trying to observe something. A silence from him, he failed to even explain his actions any longer.

“What’s that then? Have you got a cat?” He asked you, as he attempted to try and figure out what was going on.

“No.” You answered simply, as you finished up making the coffees. “We did have, but now they’re just strays. They come in off the estate.” You continued, as you picked up the two mugs of coffee and bought them into the living room with you. You placed them down on the coffee table in front of you, finally taking in the mess that was your living room.

“I told Mickey to chuck that out. You’re all the same. Give a man a plastic hand. Anyway, I don’t even know your name. Doctor what was it?” You asked, no sooner than you had. The plastic arm had attached itself to your face. You were barely, still able to breathe.

The Doctor, quick on his feet, pulled at it. Which only made matters worse, as he did, you both fell onto and crashed through the glass coffee table. Pieces of glass, and other matter flew everywhere as your bodies collided with it. He decides to use the metallic device that he had used the previous night to open the fire exit door, which finally pulls the arm off of your face. He then jabs the device into the palm of the hand, which stops the fingers from moving. The life from the object, seemed to have been drained.

“It’s alright, I’ve stopped it. There you go, you see. Armless.” He explained.

“Do you think?” You asked him, as you hit him with it.

“Ow.”

--

As soon as the Doctor had come, he was off again. But, you couldn’t let him leave until you had some sort of answers. A clear story in your head if you will. So, you decided to follow him down the stairwell.

“Hold on a minute. You can’t just go swanning off.” You protested.

“Yes I can. Here I am. This is me, swanning off. See ya.”

“But that arm was moving, it tried to kill me.” You said, voice raised slightly from a mixture of fear and annoyance.

“Ten out of ten for observation.”

“You can’t just walk away. That’s not fair. You’ve got to tell me what’s going on.” You all but begged. Once you had the answers, you could easily drop it and go on with your normal everyday life, treating the cause of these events as some sort of anomaly.

“No I don’t.” He stated simply.

You had found yourself outside, still chasing after him.

“All right, then. I’ll go to the police. I’ll tell everyone. You said, if I did that I’d get people killed. So, your choice. Tell me, or I’ll start talking.” You threatened. Which caused him to stop and turn around, allowing you to catch up to him a little bit.

“Is that supposed to sound tough?” He asked, flippantly.

“Sort of.”

“Doesn’t work.”

“Who are you?” You asked.

“Told you, the Doctor.”

“Yeah, but Doctor what?” You questioned.

“Just the Doctor.”

“The Doctor.” You repeated.

“Hello.”

“Is that supposed to sound impressive?” You asked.

“Sort of.”

“Come on, then. You can tell me. I’ve seen enough. Are you the police?” You enquired.

“No, I was just passing through. I’m a long way from home.”

“But what have I done wrong? How comes those plastic things are after me?” You couldn’t quite understand it all. It all just seemed a bit much. From your understanding, you hadn’t done anything wrong. Yet, these things still seemed to want to haunt you.

“Oh, suddenly the entire world revolves around you. You were just an accident. You got in the way, that’s all.” He explained.

“It tried to kill me.”

“It was after me, not you. Last night, in the shop, I was there, you blundered in, almost ruined the whole thing. This morning I was tracking it down, it was tracking me down. The only reason it fixated on you, is ‘cos you’ve met me.”

“So what you’re saying is, the entire world revolves around you.” You stated sarcastically.

“Sort of, yeah.”

“You’re full of it.” You teased.

“Sort of, yeah.”

“But all this plastic stuff, who else knows about it?” You asked, your inquisitive nature getting the better of you.

“No one.”

“What, you’re on your own?”

“Well, who else is there? I mean, you lot, all you do is eat chips, go to bed and watch telly, while all the while underneath you there’s a war going on.” He explained.

“Ok. Start from the beginning. I mean, if we are going to go with the living plastic, and I don’t even believe that, but if we do, how’d you kill it?”

“The thing controlling it projects life into the arm. I killed the signal dead.”

“So, that’s radio control?” You asked.

“Thought control. Are you alright?”

“Yeah. So who’s controlling it then?”

“Long story.”

“But what’s it all for? I mean shop window dummies, what’s that all about? Is someone trying to take over Britain’s shops?” You questioned, with a slight giggle.

“No.”

“No.”

“It’s not a price war. They want to overthrow the human race and destroy you. Do you believe me?” He queried.

“No.” You responded simply.

“But you’re still listening.”

“Really though Doctor, tell me. Who are you?” You asked. He took your hand in his before answering

“Do you know like we were saying about the Earth revolving? It’s like when you’re a kid. The first time they tell you that the world’s turning and you can’t quite believe it because everything looks like it’s standing still. I can feel it. The turn of the Earth. The ground beneath our feet is spinning at a thousand miles an hour, and the entire planet is hurtling around the sun at sixty seven thousand miles an hour, and I can feel it. We’re falling through space, you and me, clinging to the skin of this tiny little world and if we let go.” He began, as he let go of your hand.

“That’s who I am, now forget me Y/N Tyler. Go home.” He instructed, as he headed towards a blue police box with the arm in tow.

You turn around, deciding to go to Mickey’s as luckily he had a computer. Before you could go much further though, you heard a strange noise. You looked back over your shoulder to see that the police box was gone, something was definitely going on and you needed to find out what.

[urlocalnctstan]

The Beauty And The Beast

Epoch 1

Autumn was here. The surroundings that were once green were now adorned in hues of orange and brown. Jaehyun flipped through the book he was currently reading, who's title went by 'Summerhill', subconsciously reminding himself to read it again as he finished it again for the hundredth time, to be precise, 113th. He sipped on his black tea as his eyes drifted towards the wooden window, observing the new change in nature. Neither seasons nor weather mattered to him, at the end of the day it would only be him all alone after all. His eyes lingered for a moment on the orange leaves until he felt the need to get up, debating silently on what library he should visit next, preferably somewhere desolate.

He despised human interaction; the hunger at times just kicks in when he can hardly control himself to stay composed. Things were not supposed to be this way, his whole family, his brothers would have been here if it were not for that dreadful malicious night. He passed through his library, the vintage touch of the best designers very prominent. The walls were transformed into wooden shelves, stained and burnished in textures of a brown oak tree. It was no surprise the whole library was filled with books, the shelves divided into 10 for all the brothers. Jaehyun did not reside on a specific genre, he loved to surf around all the categories, whilst the interests of others ranged from fantasies to science fiction. He liked the smell of the library, the odd scent of paper and wood subtly brought him comfort, for it would stage an illusion for him, making him feel that he was not the only one here. Living all alone for over 50 years has indeed made him more anti-social, his demeanor a big contrast to the one he had before all the tragedy occurred.

You on the other hand stayed still, cursing yourself for not arranging the books, and it was only seconds before the lady would recognize your negligence. You prayed, desperately clutched your hands, and silently kept praying, it was your only job and you cannot afford to lose it. As if in a response to your prayers, a man, probably in his mid-twenties entered the worn-out shabby premises, catching you off guard because literally, no one visits this rotten library. However, as he came closer, you felt your breath hitch as you took a nervous gulp; that man was breathtaking. His brown coat accentuated his broad build, the black hat perfectly resting on his black hair.

"I came to return this book," he scrunched his nose, it was enough for you to understand his distaste, slightly feeling embarrassed since you were the one who suggested it. Your manager lady similarly caught on the young man's comprehensible expression, shooting me a warning look that it could be my last chance to save my job. For a shitty library, it surprisingly paid you well.

"I am extremely sorry for my negligence sir, how about this, I'll bring you the newest and most popular books every week?" You anxiously fidgeted as you brought out the library logbook, scribbling down the return.

"I-uh...that would be very courteous of you. Thank you..." he eyes trailed on your tag, "Ms.Y/N."

"Thank you thank you thank you so much, young man, you're a lifesaver." You grabbed his hands, shaking them furiously in gratitude. His hands were oddly cold, too cold actually.

Jaehyun felt weird, it had been years since he had faced any human interaction. He quickly withdrew his hands, his now pink ears hidden by his black. Nonetheless, he was kind of grateful he would not have to face 2 hours long entourage to the library.

"I was about to lose my only regular customer, all because of your stupid choice," the lady scoffed, scrutinizing your every movement whilst you were cleaning the shelves. He was a regular but I never met him. "I shouldn't have fired the other one listening to you." She flashed you one last alarming look before storming out of the place. You let out all breathe that you had been holding while she was here, thanking heavens for not screwing up your life. While you held the book that read 'Summerhill', you could not help but let your mind wander to the only encounter you had today, apart from your manager lady's wrath. Why is it that I had failed to meet this Greek God in the past three months I’ve been working? You thought to yourself, organizing the suggestion shelf, the culprit which caused the book to land upon the hands of the Greek God, namely Jaehyun. With a loud audible huff, you decided it would be better to just organize the whole suggestion shelf, quietly reminding yourself to not be so biased on the books you chose just because the author was your favorite.

It was almost evenfall when Jaehyun reached back abode, the dilapidated exterior did no justice to its actual architectural essence, and the touches of the Victorian designs camouflaged by the overgrown bushes, the oak trees stood menacingly in the rear. At a glance, anyone would have thought it was a creepily haunted house, home to all the demonic supernatural things that could come to one’s mind. Jaehyun internally cringed for a brief moment, even after all these years, his laziness in keeping his home neat was still something he had to work on. Jaehyun felt shivers running down his spine as he thought how badly Taeyong would have reacted if he were to sight this view.

He felt his still heart tug, the probable scenarios of his brothers painting themselves in the back of his mind, how ecstatic and chaotically pleasant it would have been with them by his side, one and united again. For the first time that year, he went to the forbidden chamber in the mansion.

The room resided in the right west wing on the second floor of the villa. The long corridor that leads to the room barely had any light, the large velvet curtains were draped against the huge windows. With heavy steps he climbed up the wooden stairs, only the sounds of the woods creaking and his heavy breathing being audible. He wanted to retreat as he stood in front of the door, the wood had become too worn-out, the insects starting to make it their forever habitat. Jaehyun was unsure of the overwhelming emotions he was facing; he was hurt, scared but most importantly guilty. The fact that his brothers were in this state, all because of him, this guilt eats him up every day. He pulled the handle, the bronze material felt cold against his already cold pale skin. As he stepped inside, he was welcomed by all his brothers, standing still and lifeless. Jaehyun was cursed with loneliness for 51 years, all because he was too prideful and selfish to think of anyone else but himself. His brothers might have been the only exception; he treasured all of them with all of his heart. But he remained cold to the others, as he would call them 'outsiders'. At times when he would go out with his brothers, he would cross people suffering in cold or starvation, but never once did he have the heart to aid them with their trivial surviving necessities. Clouded in his superiority, he never claimed any of the girls he had been with, treated them as either one-night-stands or a way of passing his boring time.

One winter night, the heavens decided to test his limits of such obnoxious egoistic nature. A highly respected priestess roaming around the jungle seemed to have lost her way back, and thus decided she might just rest the night. She was always in her house, training to be more and more powerful until she became one. Completely inexperienced of human nature, her curiosity lead her to explore what it was like to live normally for a day, eventually leading to an aristocratic family's residence, the NEO Residence. They were the most powerful families of the 1800s, their fame and wealth being no new news to anyone. But she still decided to see if their wealth and fame were equivalent to their kindness. The priestess disguised herself in the clothing of a pregnant woman, her dress completely soiled and ragged; making her seem pitiful and powerless. She chanted something eerily magical, instantly transforming the calm snowfall into a vicious snowstorm.

Back at the NEO residents, the young men seemed to get baffled at the sudden change of demeanor of the weather. Johnny was the first to notice, keeping aside the book he was previously reading as he went over to the large windows of their house, the wood felt cold and beads of ice were already starting to form on the contrary side of the window glass.

“Taeil, Taeyong, what just happened?” He motioned the other two towards the window he stood in front, both failing to grasp the situation.

“Maybe it’s just an unprecedented snowstorm; don’t worry brother it’ll die soon.” He said despite feeling a bit uneasy for some reason. Neither Taeil nor Johnny could avoid their anxiousness; they felt something but could not quite comprehend the reason behind it. Similarly, the others started to take notice of the situation as well; Doyoung sprinting off to get Mark and Haechan from their rooms whilst Yuta stayed beside Jungwoo in case if he had a panic attack. But one seems to remain just as unbothered and lofty prideful as usual, Jaehyun. Winwin ushered Taeyong where Jaehyun was sitting, annoyed by his way too relaxed composure. Taeyong just nodded, as if he was telling Winwin that he would talk to Jaehyun for being like this yet again; at that point, it had become something very common for him.

“I don’t feel good about this,” Yuta sighed, rubbing the temples of his forehead.

“Neither do we brother,” Taeil said as he looked at Johnny, their worried glances meeting each other before the latter went over towards the window again.

“It is showing no signs of stopping anytime soon.” Johnny inspected before pulling over the curtains; an attempt to calm themselves down by concealing the ruckus occurring outside.

“Aren’t you all tiring out yourselves a bit too much?” Jaehyun got up from his seat, swirling the red wine gracefully in the expensive sherry glass he was holding. “Come on, brothers, it is just a snowstorm. Nothing can ever happen to us.”

“Jaehyun, can you for once stop being so obnoxious and think rationally? Do you really think it’s just a normal storm going on out there?” Winwin exclaimed, his face filled with rage.

“Not my problem, ya’ll go ahead tire yourselves out.” Jaehyun pursed his lips before returning to his seat, filling up his empty glass yet again.

Just then, they heard soft knocks coming from the main door of their house, followed by pleas for help. Taeyong rushed to the door, quickly opening as he was welcomed by the whirl of the snowstorm and a young poor pregnant lady. He quickly brought her inside before calling over Johnny and Yuta to shut the door, the force of the storm was a bit too much.

“I can’t find my way back to my house, please, let me stay for just one night.” the lady pleaded, barely holding herself up.

“Sure, no problem. We’ll ma-”

“No.” Jaehyun abruptly cut off Taeyong, staring at his intently at the lady. “You don’t have the right to, look at yourself,” Jaehyun scoffed as he stood up. “Do you really think you’re worth enough to stay here? Really?”

“Jaehyun stop it! Enough already!” Taeyong shouted, his loud voice echoing throughout the whole house. “For fuck’s sake, she’s pregnant, stop it.”

“Don’t try voicing out your opinions on me Taeyong.” Jaehyun now shifted his gaze towards his older brother, who was clearly outraged by his imprudence “Pregnant? It makes me not let her stay, even more, at least she’ll give birth to a normal human, unlike us.” He scoffed. “Or she is just gonna leave her child alone, just like our mother did.

“Stop it Jaehyun, you’re crossing it,” Taeil said calmly, contrasting his fuming self.

“Why big brother? Finally, feeling sorry for your girlfriend? Should have thought before he fed on her.”

“ENOUGH!” the lady yelled, her voice changing to her original. “My, my. My instincts were indeed right about you.” She chuckled as she looked directly towards Jaehyun, her green eyes glowing menacingly. The storm outside seemed to have shifted inside now, a tornado of green wind and sparkling dust surrounding the lady, the middle glowing with such tremendous light that the men had to cover their eyes in fear that they will go blind. As the tornado stopped, their faces went pale, they knew who she was.

“High Priestess Valery..” Haechan’s eyes widened in realization. The priestess smiled, clearly knowing the effect of authority she had on them

“Jaehyun it is huh?” She walked further towards him, whilst he still stood high despite the unsettling feeling he was then starting to feel in his half functioning heart. “You really think of yourself this high? No wonder even the headquarters nicknamed you imbecile.”

“We apologize for his gaffe, high priestess.” Taeyong knelt, the others following him.

Jaehyun felt his throat form a lump, he could not voice out an apology as he knelt for forgiveness. Disrespecting, that too the high priestess of the clan was a great omission; an act equivalent to committing high treason. Jaehyun knew he was doomed, he felt sicker and sicker as he thought about what could possibly happen next.

“I was actually looking forward to you know, rectify your spoiled little brother, but it seems to me that it is quite a handful of work.” She remarked, her bracelet with various initials glowing.

“We promise, we’ll discipline him more, high priestess.” Taeil pleaded. But Valery seemed to ignore all of their pleas.

“He needs to learn it by himself,” She said. “But you all are not quite the innocents as well.” Valery did something with her hands, fumes of lilac, and blue clouding around her fingers. A loud sound erupted as the gaseous colors spread throughout the hall, flashes of various images appearing. “Look carefully you foolish beings, look what you have been doing because of your monstrous selves.” “It wasn’t our fault, we were completely clueless as to what we were doing, and we knew nothing about our kinds,” Haechan exclaimed sorrowfully. “You kill innocents to satiate your beastly taste buds and still dare to say you’re not at fault?” Valery bellowed. “A death caused by accident or impulse is still nonetheless death to me, a murder.”

“As for you,” Valery said while pointing her forefinger towards Jaehyun. “You have shown me that not only you’re a beast outside, but also inside. I condemn you to eternal loneliness; your only family turning into lifeless statues, they can’t converse, eat, and sleep, a curse that shall remain for a lifetime if not broken within a span of 51 years, a curse that shall be broken only if a maiden chooses to fall for you despite your beastly nature.” And in a blink of an eye, she disappeared.

Jaehyun felt numb, his limbs paralyzing as he propped to the ground, seeing his brothers’ bodies turning into stones. Taeyong’s eyes glistened with tears, as it rolled down his cheeks, Jaehyun wondered if he would ever be able to free them from the wrath that befell them only because of him.   

[sassmill]

Hey! I saw that you went to Cedar Crest!! I’m attending there in the fall this year!!! How did you like it and if you have any advice for campus what would it be?

Omg I only just checked my inbox sorry for the wait! I absolutely loved it there. Obviously no place is perfect (and within administration there are certainly issues there, the Pledge Her Our Best alumnae group has been working to address this) but I was able to find such a perfect little niche for myself in the theatre department. It’s honestly a second family for me now. That’s one of the smallest departments so I’m sure it’ll be different if you’re majoring in like nursing or criminal justice, but don’t be shy about getting to know your advisors and professors. If they’re in your department, you’re gonna be seeing a lot of them so you may as well get comfortable!

My biggest pieces of advice if you’re living on campus:

1) if you can afford it, the unlimited meal plan is the only meal plan that’s actually worth the cost. Parkhurst Dining Services is terrible, they keep raising prices without improving service and they treat their employees like shit (also,75% of the folks that worked in the dining hall and cafe during my four years were super cool. Befriend them before they get fired or quit, the company treats them *that* poorly). So if you’re paying out the ass either way, you might as well have unlimited meal swipes so you can just hang out in canova commons all day if you need to. Which brings me to my second piece of advice-

2) find a spot other than your dorm to work. Besides just giving you somewhere separate from your living space to be productive, it’s a good way to passively socialize and meet people. My favorite spots were the fireside couches in Canova commons on the weekends during brunch, The Poets Corner or the Pidcock room in the library, and the lounge in Hartzel Hall (make friends with the humanities department, they’re some of the coolest people. And very close with the theatre department 😉)

3) the best places to view snowfall are canova commons and the pidcock room. Walls of floor to ceiling windows overlooking the beautiful arboretum or park as it covers in snow? Can’t be beat.

4) at the end of semester, please go to Frolic and Midnight Breakfast. It’s so fun. You deserve it before finals start. Convince your friends to submit a skit. Beg your favorite faculty members to host. Thank Buskin Society and Student Activities Board for putting it together because as former President and treasurer of buskin society for three years, these students work their asses off on top of prepping for finals to put together a silly night of fun for the whole campus to attend for free. Did I mention there’s thousands of dollars worth of raffle prizes? And food? And it’s all free for students all you have to do is show up?

5) if you ever find yourself in Blaney Hall at night, mind the ghosts (and apologize to Dr. Curtis if you’re up to mischief. He won’t be mad—it’ll remind him of his daughter Betsy and her friends). Most of campus is slightly haunted. If you become friends with the campus police (they’re literally just always around everywhere and campus isn’t that big, you’ll get to know them by name pretty quickly), you might be able to convince one of them to let you into the attic of Hartzel Hall at night. Don’t be alarmed if something touches your hand while up there. They raised orphans there for home ec class in the 20s when it was Hillside House.

6) check out the alumnae museum whenever there’s a new exhibit! It’s in Curtis Hall, not Alumnae Hall. Take your friends and family there when they come to visit you. The college is over 150 years old, it’s got some fascinating stuff.

7) the absolute only diner you ever need to go to, for celebration or consolation or boredom or hangover, is the Hamilton Family Diner. The Ham Fam. The Hamily Family.

8) signups for SAB road trips are ruthless so if you really want to go, pay attention to when sign ups start because they fill up in minutes.

I hope you have such a great time, I really found my people there!

[lesbianlovelanguage]

i want to feel something (i’m numb inside)

It’s another HfBLM Prompt for imperfectabstraction on AO3, who requested pining!Billy who’s bad at communication. Thank you endlessly for your donation!! 

Also a huge ass thank you to @gideongrace for your patience and help in me writing this and basically betaing it. I love you so much. 

Read it on AO3 here or below the cut

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1. Welcome to Hawkins. 

Billy had been attending Hawkins High for two weeks when he realized what was happening. 

It wasn’t anything special, no fireworks or butterflies, but instead a cold frustration frosting over him. Because he realized he had a crush. On the most popular and decidedly straight boy in the miserable town of Hawkins, Indiana. Neil’s beatings could never compare to the sinking feeling in Billy’s gut when Steve Harrington stood in front of their english class and gave a frankly terrible report on Moby-Dick . 

It certainly wasn’t Harrington’s presentation that made Billy recognize his crush, but the way his soft hair shined and he stood tall and confident even as the words that poured from his mouth were utter bullshit . 

Billy had always been a sucker for confidence and cockiness. 

But once Harrington had sat down, and was thus out of Billy’s sightlines, the warmth that came with a new crush turned to the familiar iciness, and it felt as if a great gaping maw had opened below him. 

Even after the bell rang and the classroom emptied out, Billy was stuck in his head. 

It wasn’t fair, he thought. He was supposed to hate everyone and everything about this town, and be fucking thankful when he got to put everything in his rearview mirror. But here he was with a ridiculous crush. 

It wouldn’t couldn’t change his plans. Billy was resolute to not act upon his feelings, to avoid Harrington at every turn. 

That resolution to ignore Harrington stayed for the next 5 periods, until he got to basketball practice. Harrington was clearly in his element on the court, no math problems or english reports here. Just sheer athleticism and strategy. And it made Billy angry. Because he couldn’t do anything about Harrington’s breathless panting or the way he was clearly showing off. So Billy did what he always did when he was angry.

He played dirty.

He used every trick in the book to trip up Harrington, guarding him by pushing every body part up against Harrington, using even the tiniest of openings to steal the ball, and he rammed into Harrington to steal the ball. He showed off a little, bolstered by the knowledge that Harrington’s focus was entirely upon him, the anger replaced by the feeling of pride. 

When he landed after dunking the ball, he turned and continued to use the excitement of being Harrington’s sole focus to bound over to the tangled heap of lanky limbs and pale, creamy skin. He even put out a hand to help him up before he came back to himself, violently. 

What was he doing? This is the exact opposite of ignoring Harrington . 

He tried to save face by growling some stupid one-liner about planting his feet, and then dropped him like a sack of potatoes. 

When Harrington popped back up and ignored Billy completely to chase after the ice princess herself, he shook his head and continued to play. This time, his showing off and dirty moves turned vicious as he continued to foul right and left before the coach was forced to bench him. He tried to shrug off the anger and left to take a shower. 

Thankfully the showers stayed empty, and Billy was able to escape. After the disaster that was basketball practice, he decided to firmly clamp down his feelings and avoid Steve Harrington at all costs. 

2. Can’t Ignore Him Anymore 

Billy was having a bad night, to say the least . 

His plan to head off to Indianapolis and the nearest gay bar with a loose ID policy was ruined because his shitbird step-sister decided to fuck off with her weird ass friends, probably with Sinclair even though he tried to warn her that Neil wouldn’t be happy. He had proof of what happened when Neil wasn’t happy blooming on his back too. At least it wasn’t worse, he thought with a grimace. He wasn’t sure when walking away with bruises had become lucky but it was what it was.

And now he had to run all over Hawkins to find the little shitbird, and with every house that sent him somewhere else his admittedly small patience was dwindling. By the time he was pulling into the dark driveway of the Byer’s house, he was itching for a fight. 

And then Steve fucking Harrington walked out of the house. Because God hated him.

Or at least, it felt like the Big Man hated him as Harrington sauntered towards him, dish towel casually tossed over one shoulder and hands tucked into his jacket pockets.

“Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?” He felt himself call out before fully processing the words. 

“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” Harrington sounded blase in his response, but a faint blush appeared on his cheeks as Billy took off his jacket. Interesting. As he walked towards Harrington, a familiar bush of bright red hair popped in and out of the window and shocked Billy back to reality. He stopped, leaving plenty of space between himself and Harrington, enough to hopefully let him keep a clear head. 

“What are you doing here, amigo?” Billy taunted. Maybe he would finally see some action tonight, at least enough to wipe the bitter taste that flirting with Mrs. Wheeler left in his mouth. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Harrington retorted, sounding exactly like a fifth grader. 

“Well, I would. ‘S why I asked, cause I don’t really like the picture that’s being painted here. Max goes missing all day, and then I find her here in some stranger’s house, with you of all people. See what I’m seeing, Pretty Boy?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean, me of all people?” Of course Harrington would pick up on that. 

“What does King Steve want with a thirteen-year-old girl? Not a great look man.” The adrenaline bubbled up in Billy’s stomach in anticipation of a fight, fists clenching and skin buzzing. But Harrington never reacted how Billy expected, and this was no exception. 

“Yeah, but letting demon monsters kill a group of pre-teens isn’t so great either,” he said casually, as if his words would make a lick of sense. Billy gaped a little before shaking his head and laughing a bitter, mean laugh.

“You’re digging your own grave man. I just wanted my step-sister, but it looks like I’m gonna have to kick your ass.” That was the only warning he gave before closing the distance and swinging. Harrington went down like a sack of potatoes and Billy couldn’t help the smugness in his voice when he bent over and spit, “Told you to plant your fucking feet, Princess.” He then stepped over Harrington’s sprawled body and walked inside. 

He noticed all of the usual brats that hang off of Harrington, but his gaze zeroed in on Lucas. All of the anger and frustration Billy had felt over the course of the night collided into one comprehensible thought.

He had warned her. 

He wasn’t proud of what he did, but at least he had the ability to stop. He just wanted to scare the kid, hoping that if he couldn’t warn Max he could scare the kid off before Neil got involved. 

If he got involved, he wouldn’t stop, not until Sinclair was really hurt. Or even dead.  

Billy didn’t like himself while he was doing it, knew that his behavior was revolting and monstrous, but he was willing to play the bad guy if it kept the gremlins from the real bad guy. He was thankful when Harrington forced him around and clocked him in the face. Then he had something better to focus his rage and fear on. 

They were in the middle of fighting when Billy thought he lost his mind. He had grabbed the fridge door, planning to use it to clock Harrington in the head, when a thing fell out. It didn’t move from it’s spot on the kitchen floor but it left a trail of something slimy and Billy went mental. 

“What the actual fuck. Someone had ten seconds to explain what this is,” he growled, and was promptly educated about the Upside Down, demogorgons, and something the brats called The Mind Flayer. Apparently Hawkins was housing some horror movie level shit, and of course Harrington was involved. So much for ignoring him forever.

  3. Summer Sweetness

Billy didn’t just enjoy summer. He thrived in the summer. The sun, the heat, the smell of the ocean and the sound of busy beaches filled him with a happiness even Neil couldn’t touch. There were no ocean waves that summer, but chlorine was a close substitute. Anything was better than the disgusting stench of cowshit that seemed to permeate Hawkins in the fall. 

And even better was the silent agreement he had made with one Steve Harrington. 

It started at Prom. Billy had agreed to go with some girl, he hadn’t bothered to remember her name, only to get the promposals to stop. It was a good ego boost at first, but after six in four class periods, it got exhausting to try and politely decline. So, the seventh girl who came up to him with a big home-made card practically dripping in glitter got a ‘Yes’ from the Billy Hargrove. Ridiculous.

He made the mistake of telling Max somewhere that Neil could overhear him, so he ended up having to rent a limo and buy a corsage and dress up in a full tux. All for a thing he didn’t want to go to with a girl he didn’t care about. To just get through the night, he ended up downing an entire bottle of tequila by himself. 

The next morning he would definitely be blaming the tequila, but he would be lying to himself that it was the only reason he did what he did. 

It had been building for a long time, but it wasn’t until he saw Steve in the bathroom furthest from the gym that he realized what it was. 

He had stumbled down the darkened hallways of Hawkins High, desperate for the escape a cigarette would bring him. He knew the bathroom in the english hall had a busted fire alarm, so he made a beeline towards it. He was so focused on pulling the pack out and lighting up, he failed to notice there was someone else, not until they cleared their throat. His head shot up, ready to fight, only to be met with big brown eyes and pale creamy skin. 

“Oh hey, Pretty Boy. What are you doing here?” He tried to play it casual, not letting on that blood was rushing in his ears and his heart was in his throat. 

“Could ask you the same question. I’m pretty sure Colleen is asthmatic, won’t appreciate the nicotine smell,” he said, gesturing to the cigarette he had just lit up. It took him a minute to figure out who the fuck Colleen was, until he realized it was the date he had abandoned in the gym.

“Pretty sure she won’t care what I smell like, if you know what I mean.” Billy waggled his eyebrows and dragged his tongue along his bottom lip. He was caught off guard though, when Steve’s pupils dilated. Interesting. 

“You’re nasty,” Steve tried to cover the few seconds of silence, but Billy was a shark who had smelt blood. 

“Oh really, Stevie?” He asked before taking a long drag of his cigarette and blowing it towards Steve. “You don’t like the idea of Colleen and I getting freaky? What’s a little locker room talk between amigos after all?” He smirked before going in for what he hoped was the kill. “Unless… You’re jealous?” His smirk only grew as Steve stuttered, trying to form a rebuttal.

“I am not jealous of Colleen. I feel bad for her, going to one of the most special nights with you.” Steve’s words were meant to cut, but Billy could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

“Never said you were jealous of Colleen, Stevie. But if you are, I think I have a solution.” That was the only warning he gave Steve before walking over to be right in front of him. They were so close their shoes were touching, and Billy could smell the smoke on Steve’s breath. 

“Seems a little hypocritical to yell at me about smoking when you were doing the same thing.” Billy may have noticed that Steve wasn’t the best in school, but he would never say the boy was slow. He seemed to get with the picture pretty quickly.

“Oh yeah?” His voice was breathy and soft. “You gonna do something about it?”

“I think I have to. It wouldn’t be right if I just ignored it.” 

“Well, what are you waiting for? Do it,” Steve challenged. And Billy never backed down from a challenge. He lunged forward the few feet between them and smashed his lips against Steve’s. 

The kiss wasn’t nice or gentle. It was a battle between two wild animals, only softened when Steve’s hands snuck up Billy’s back and tugged on the golden ringlets. Billy broke the kiss with a moan and Steve grinned. 

“Like that, tiger?” 

“Shut up and get back here,” was Billy’s only response before they collided again. Shaky hands unbuttoned shirts. As soon as Steve’s torso was exposed, Billy moved down to suck what was sure to be an impressive hickey along Steve’s collarbone, unable to resist marking the pale skin. 

Steve’s moan was loud as Billy moved his hands from the small of his back to his thighs and picked him up. Like he was nothing. He was placed on the edge of a sink, and then Billy moved down Steve’s chest, kissing every mole he could find. After successfully making his way down to his knees, Billy unzipped Steve’s pants and proceeded to rock the boy’s damn world. 

  That was the only time they had sex during school, but it wasn’t the last time they had hooked up, far from it in fact. He was dropping Max off at the ice cream shop, Scoops Ahoy, when he saw Steve again. He was in a truly ridiculous parody of a sailor’s costume and Billy wanted to eat him alive. 

He was surprised to find the feeling was mutual. He walked up to the counter to tease Steve about the uniform, and somehow ended up in the storage room getting his dick sucked this time. 

The summer proceeded to pass like that, until some time in July when Steve said he couldn’t keep having sex at work and gave Billy his phone number with a wink. Then Billy started sneaking into Steve’s bedroom at ungodly hours and left before the sun had risen. 

But all good things came to an end, and Billy was nothing if not a coward. As soon as August came around, and the pool closed, Billy took all of his savings and the four boxes it had taken to pack up everything he cared about, and left. Without a word, a text, or a note. He ran away from Hawkins, ran from his father, and from Steve, who had started talking about having movie nights and cooking dinner together and other domestic crap fuck buddies weren’t supposed to do together. 

He ran.

4. Hey Pretty Boy, Long Time No See

Billy loved Chicago. He had moved there with plans of just saving up enough to fly back to Los Angeles, but a year into living there he had fallen in love. Sure there were things he hated, like the winters and the tourists, but there were so many more things to love.

Like the food, and the people he had met. Both of which he was enjoying on a perfect summer’s day. And to top it all off, he was finally going to get a tattoo. 

Robin, a girl he had met through work and then started to hang out with after running into her at the annual Pride Parade, had convinced him to finally indulge in it, helped him work out what exactly he wanted, and even gave him a recommendation for a guy at her shop that specialized in the style of tattoos that Billy had decided he wanted. 

So, on the day of his appointment, he met Robin during her lunch break where they grabbed some tacos from a street car and walked back to her shop. Billy was silent, nervous as hell, but luckily Robin was enough of a chatterbox to fill the silence and keep it from getting awkward.

“You will love Steve, Billy. Swear to God he’s one of the sweetest people I’ve met.” She let out a small huff. “Of course he’s a total dingus, but so are you. Boom. Match made in Heaven.” She waved her hand around, almost dropping her taco, and Billy couldn’t help but laugh at her antics. 

That laughter died in his throat though, and he nearly choked on his own spit, as they walked through the door of The Mind Flayer Tattoos and Piercing because behind the desk was a face he never thought he would see again. 

Steve Harrington. 

Of course he had fantasized about this moment, had dreamed about those Bambi eyes and impish grin, even years later as it was. He had tried to distract himself, tried to move on, but he quickly realized it wasn’t working. Once he realized he had been silently comparing every other guy to Steve, he gave up, resigned himself to being alone, and had gotten a cat. 

Just like in high school though, all of his resolve to move on disappeared when faced with Steve Harrington. 

The years since high school had clearly been kind to him, and while Billy had always thought he was pretty, now he was downright gorgeous. His hair was still perfectly styled, but he had grown it out so that the ends just barely touched his shoulders. He was also wearing a pair of stylish glasses with thin golden frames that glinted softly in the warm lighting of the tattoo parlor. Most notably though, Billy could clearly see his left arm where it rested next to a book he bent over, and it was covered in a beautiful, intricate tattoo sleeve. All Billy wanted in that moment was to trail his fingertips over the black lines that formed shapes that resembled flowers. Looking closer though, he realized some of the flowers actually held rows and rows of teeth, and mixed in was the rough outline of a baseball bat with nails. It was a mural dedicated to his experiences that one fall day, a constant reminder of what he had been through.

Steve finally looked up at them as Robin led Billy to the counter, and he clearly recognized Billy, as his mouth dropped open and his eyes widened.

“Holy shit.”

Billy felt a small smile form as he lifted a hand and waved awkwardly at the boy he had left behind. “Hiay Pretty Boy. Long time, no see.” He had hoped that the nickname would lighten the mood, but instead Steve’s shock was replaced by hard lines and tense shoulders.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” His voice was dripping in hostility, making Billy flinch slightly before tensing up as well. He knew he was the one in the wrong, but fuck if that had ever stopped him from being the weak one. 

Robin beat Billy to a response however, letting out a small noise before looking quickly between the two boys.

“I think I’m missing something here, and that something is big,so I’m jist going to walk over here and let you two work it out. Please don’t kill each other.” Despite the lingering angst in the air, both boys couldn’t hold back a chuckle as Robin walked away from them and disappeared into the back room. As the door swung shut though, and they were alone in the shop, the tension could be cut with a knife. 

“Let’s get this over with,” Steve said with a sigh, and all Billy could do was nod and follow him to a prepared work station in the back corner of the open-plan parlor. 

He double checked where the tattoo was going, on his right shoulder, and then gently placed the stencil on and smoothing it over. He removed the plastic to reveal a purple version of the tattoo and then nodded to where a full length mirror had been hung on the wall. 

Billy checked how it laid, and took in how the design had turned out once again. He had seen the draft in an email, but to see it on his body was an entirely different experience. It was a depiction of the beach, detailed with old school flowers and a setting sun, and a perfect symbol of Billy’s origins. He had decided that while he didn’t want to return to California, he wanted a reminder of the peace an evening on the beach brought him. 

Having confirmed that it was perfectly placed, he returned to the workstation and settled into the chair. The tension remained as Steve silently placed his arm in the best position and loaded the gun with ink. He returned to Billy’s side and sighed.

“You need to relax if you want me to actually do this.”

“Sorry, Pretty Boy. Guess you just fill me with butterflies,” Billy shot back, trying to regain some of the bravado that had conveniently left him. Steve snorted before setting down the tattoo gun and muttering Jesus and rubbing at his temple. 

“If we’re gonna do this, you gotta cut that shit out.”

“What shit?” 

“The- the fucking flirting and the nicknames. That shit.” 

“Sorry, Pretty Boy,” he emphasized the name with a cocky smirk. “It’s just part of the Hargrove charm.”

“Well if you want a good tattoo, you’ll dial back the Hargrove bullshit. Now take a deep breath and fucking relax.” Billy gave a sarcastic salute before deliberately taking a deep breath and dropping his shoulders. Steve rolled his eyes, but reserved all his smart comments in favor of starting the tattoo. 

They sat in relative silence, only broken by the gentle whir of the tattoo gun and Steve occasionally reminding Billy to not hold his breath. It wasn’t until Steve muttered a soft, “Halfway there tiger,” that he found the courage to break the silence. Whether consciously or not, Steve had used one of his favorite pet names for Billy and that action alone gave him hope that he hadn’t ruined their relationship completely when he left.

“Nice tats Harrington,” he said casually, nodding at his left arm. Steve snorted.

“Thanks. Of course, you know the whole story behind it. Robin and everyone at the shop just think it’s some insane movie monster they’ve never heard of.” 

“Yeah, not exactly the easiest thing to explain to people,” Billy agreed, nodding his head.

“As chill as Robs can be, I think if I tried to tell her I fought off intergalactic demon dogs with a nail bat and a group of four middle schoolers she would check me into the nearest institute.” 

Billy faked an offended gasp. “It wasn’t all middle schoolers, I was there too. Saved your ass at one point too.” 

“Bullshit you saved me. If I recall, you screamed like a little bitch until Max threatened you with my bat and then stole your keys. If she hadn’t threatened to drive your car I think you would never have come with.” There was a fire in Steve’s eyes now, a warmth Billy thought he would never be privy to again.

And then Steve looked up from his arm and his face shuttered back into stone. He wiped the excess ink and blood off of his arm and studiously ignored any more attempts Billy made at conversation, which ranged from commenting about the photos littering his workstation to commenting on the fucking weather. Eventually he got the message and shut his trap for the rest of the session. 

Steve walked him through the after-care steps clinically, and he faintly picked up the “wash with antibacterial soap twice a day” and “apply scent-free lotion when it starts flaking”, but his brain was mostly stuck on “touch-ups are free up to six months after the first appointment.” 

He still had a chance. Maybe the shock was too much, but if Steve was offering up the chance to meet again? 

Billy wouldn’t let it slip past.

  5. Let’s Try This Again

Billy loved his tattoo. He made sure to take meticulous care of it, applying lotion religiously and steadfastly ignoring the urge to pick at the peeling skin. Luckily, the amount of sunburns he got back in California prepared him for it pretty well. 

Even if it was healing perfectly, and he was ecstatic about the final result after it had finished peeling, he still decided to talk to Robin about scheduling a touch-up. She had looked it over when he asked while they were grabbing burritos, and told him that he definitely didn’t need a touch up, but when he continued to insist that he wanted another appointment she looked at him skeptically and agreed. 

He had it scheduled for a month after his initial appointment, and the weeks seemed to drag by as he eagerly awaited his second- well, technically third- chance with Steve.The day of, he and Robin agreed to the same schedule of grabbing lunch and then walking over to the shop together, but instead of Robin filling the silence, Billy instead prattled on about a couple cases he was looking over and how well they were going. As much as he could without breaking the NASW Code of Ethics of course. 

Robin nodded along agreeable and made all the right noises in the right places, but she was overall quieter than usual, until the shop got into view. 

A block away from the neon sign, she stopped them both and turned to Billy. “I’ve been pretty patient, but I have to know before we walk in there. What is the deal between you and Steve?” 

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about, Brat. There’s no story there,” Billy tried to brush it off and keep walking, but Robin was surprisingly strong for her slender frame. She grabbed his arm and forced him to stop. 

“That’s a blatant lie, and I can’t let you in there if you’re on some sort of weird revenge quest or something. He was seriously shaken up after your session, and I love you, but I love the dingus too.” She paired the serious tone of her voice with stern eye contact and a slight tightening of her hand on his bicep. 

“Jesus Robin,” Billy said, shrugging off her vice-like grip, “It’s nothing like that, I swear. If anything, I’m trying to fucking apologize.” She just raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with his explanation. “Fine. We went to high school together and I fucked up in a big way, alright? I regret it, and I want to try and make it up to him.” 

“Yeah, well. You seem to have forgotten that this-” she emphasized with a sharp point at the parlor “-is his work. His job. He doesn’t deserve you pestering him here of all places. Just do what everyone else does and fucking ask him out to coffee.” 

Feeling slightly chastised as only Robin could do, he looked down at the scuffs on his work boots and muttered, “Yeah, whatever.” 

Finally satisfied, she continued their walk to The Mind Flayer Tattoo and Piercings Shop, Billy trailing two steps behind her. 

The little bell tinkled again as the door opened, but this time Steve wasn’t at the front desk. Instead a tan woman with long, curly, dark hair was popping bubble gum and casually scrolling through her iPhone. All of the frustration seemed to seep out of Robin at once as she squealed, “Heather!” and launched herself at the girl behind the desk. 

Letting Robin and Heather do their thing, Billy wandered over to where he could see the top of Steve’s head peeking over the low wall of his work station. He could see that all of his focus was on a drawing pad, where he was carefully sketching out something in pencil. He was so in the zone that the tip of his tongue was poking through his teeth. Cute.

Loath as he was to break the peace on Steve’s face, he cleared his throat and called out, “Hey Harrington.” 

Steve, predictably, shot up out of his chair and whirled around to face Billy. “Jesus Christ Billy. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Sorry, amigo. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What, no Pretty Boy?” Steve spit out as he tried to recoup from being startled. The tone brought back the sense of shame Robin had made him feel earlier, and he held up his hands in surrender.

“No, um,” he tried to start. “Actually, I’m here to ask if we could get a cup of joe? Talk some shit out?” Steve seemed startled by the proposal, but masked it with a suspicious glare. 

“Is this some kind of joke? You want to get coffee?” 

“Yeah. I want to- want to explain I guess.” Steve continued to glare at him, but after finding or not finding something, he nodded his head and sighed.

“Fine. Fuck it. You were my last appointment, so why the hell not.” Billy blinked, surprised that it had somehow been that easy to get Steve to agree. Maybe they could work it out, at least enough to be friends again. 

He decided to wait in the front area while Steve packed up his station and grabbed his bag from the back room, nodding at Heather and Robin when they left. 

They mutually agreed to walk the block down to a local coffee shop, called Joe’s Joe. Billy got a black iced coffee while Steve got a complexe medley of coffee, oat milk, and sugar. After they got their drinks, they sat at a table by the window. 

“Do you want to start?” Steve asked.

“I mean, I guess. That’s kind of why we’re here or whatever.” Billy hadn’t wanted to start out hostile, but his nerves were starting to get the best of him. He took a swig of his coffee, letting the scalding heat coat his tongue. “Just, I’m sorry I guess.”

“You’re sorry?” Steve asked indignantly, “For what? Fucking with me for an entire summer? Leaving without a single fucking word? Or just being an all around asshole?” 

“Technically, I was fucking you, not fucking with you,” Billy corrected absentmindedly, before wincing as Steve’s expression grew even more hostile. “Shit, I’m sorry. For- for everything alright? I was a dickhead, I shouldn’t have left but you have to underst-”

“I don’t have to do shit, Hargrove,” Steve interrupted. 

“No, you have to understand that I didn’t have a choice. I packed up and left in the span of like four hours. There wasn’t time to tell you.”

“There wasn’t time to send a fucking text? Call? Something? I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere. I had to find out from Max that you just pissed off to who knows where in the middle of the goddamn night. And you couldn’t bother to send anything? It’s been eight fucking years jackass.” Steve was almost yelling by the end of his rant, panting and visibly trying to calm himself down. 

“It didn’t seem like something to send over text, I just figured it was better to do a clean break. Let you move on.”

“Let me- Fucking hell, you let me move on?” Steve was borderline hysterical at this point. Billy wasn’t sure when he had lost control of the conversation so drastically, but he felt the chances of him and Steve rekindling some sort of friendship slipping away. This wasn’t how he wanted to do this at all. Fuck. 

“Yeah, because you shouldn’t be stuck with someone like me, Pretty Boy. I’m sorry I hurt you but I was stupid and young and I didn’t see any better way to do it.” 

“You fucking broke my heart Billy. You’re gonna have to do a lot better than that,” Steve said, and walked out of the coffee shop. 

  6. Billy Does Better

After the disastrous coffee date, Billy steered clear of everything to do with The Mind Flayer, including Robin. He buried himself in his work, doubled his gym hours, and let the weekends pass by in a haze of cheap whiskey. 

It took Robin a week to decide she was over him avoiding her. She stormed into his apartment on Sunday morning and forced him to take a shower, put on clean clothes and go with her to her apartment. 

Once there, she sat him down on the couch and told him in the sternest voice she had to stay, and then left him to go let in someone else. He really shouldn’t have been surprised at who it was, but he still blinked rapidly when Steve appeared in the doorway. 

“Am I dreaming, or is that you Harrington?” Billy asked, his voice hoarse from the lack of water he had drank in the past 48 hours. 

“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” If Billy sounded hungover, Steve sounded wrecked. He looked like it too, eyes rimmed red and puffy, lips chapped and bitten within an inch of their soft, plush life, and skin even paler than it usually was. Robin dragged him by the back of his shirt over to the couch, next to Billy, and pushed him down. 

“Alright. I tried to give you two assholes space to work it out yourselves, but I am officially over it, so you’re going to figure it out here and now. I’m going to go in the kitchen to make lunch and when I get back, I expect you both to at least stop moping like fucking widows.” She turned on her heel and marched into the kitchen, where she could give them some semblance of privacy, but would still be within ear shot if they decided to kill each other or something. 

Once she disappeared through the doorway, Billy turned hesitantly to face Steve, but when they made eye contact, any words he may have managed to string together left him and he was left there gaping like a fish. Steve saved him the trouble of starting though.

“You were moping?” He asked, voice quiet and defeated. 

“Yeah, Bambi. Pretty heavily too if Robin had to step in.” 

“What were you so upset about? You broke my heart after all.”

“Because I never meant to. I only meant to break my own damn heart, but not yours. Never yours Pretty Boy,” Billy’s voice was dripping in honesty and vulnerability, the dredges of alcohol still in his system making this entire situation exhausting. He just wanted to go back home and sleep until tomorrow. 

“You- you loved me too?” Steve sounded so damn unsure, it hurt Billy to hear. 

“Yeah, of course I loved you. That’s why I had to leave. I couldn’t love you and be under Neil’s roof. He would kill me. He would kill you. So I had to leave.”

“A clean break,” Steve finished for him. He didn’t sound as angry as he had at the coffee shop, more defeated. 

“Exactly.” 

They sat in silence for a few moments that seemed to stretch on for eternity before Steve finally broke it.

“So, where does that leave us?” 

“Can we, can we try friends?” Billy asked hesitantly, eager for any opportunity but scared to push his luck.

“Yeah. I think that could work,” he said with a faint smile. As if on cue, Robin burst through the kitchen door armed with a plate of sandwiches and snacks and declared it a movie night.

  7. Steve Takes A Leap

It had been two months since Robin’s forced intervention, and Steve couldn’t have been more thankful towards her. He had been scared that having Billy back in his life would drag up the memories he tried so hard to hide from, but it was actually refreshing to have someone to call when the memories came back, someone who understood what he was going through. 

He also realized how much he genuinely missed Billy himself. He had grown and changed for sure, but it was only in that he was far less angry all the damn time. Steve had really come to realize just how intense the hold Neil Hargrove had over his son in high school. Now the sharp wit Billy had wielded as a weapon in high school was more playful than hurtful, and his more self-destructive tendencies of driving recklessly and chain-smoking had been replaced by a gym membership and therapy. Apparently, Billy had gone through a lot of therapy. 

With all of the changes, he realized that it was just that much easier to find the Billy he had fallen in love with all those years ago. He had started recognizing the feelings a month into their rekindled friendship, but he waited for another month to make sure the spark was still there, that it wasn’t just him romanticising the past. They had added each other on snapchat and had even started a streak. It was at a solid 55 days that Steve finally made his move. 

It was a simple snap of his work station with the caption What are you doing Saturday night? 

Not even two minutes later he got a response. The picture was of Billy’s coffee mug he kept at his desk and said Nothing, wbu? 

He snapped another hasty shot of his station, replied, Thinking about going out. Wanna join?

Another notification, another shot of his mug. “ Sure. What’s the plan?”

He was in the middle of prepping his station for an appointment in twenty minutes, so it was a quick shot of sterile packaging. Dinner and then hit up a club I know in Boystown?

This time the response was immediate. Sounds good.

Cool, I’ll make a reservation for six? Then club at like 8?

Why do we need a reservation? Want to spoil little old me, Pretty Boy?

The old nickname gave Steve the courage he needed to finally take a selfie and stop beating around the bush. He gave the camera an impish grin and raised eyebrows. I just want to make our first date memorable. 

There was no response to that. Steve waited with bated breath, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously as the minutes ticked by. His appointment had shown up, and he finished the 45 minute session. Still no response. 

Anxiety coursed through him, swirling around in his head. He could see that Billy had opened the picture as soon as he had sent it, a whole hour ago. But no response. No notifications. Nothing. 

Steve tried to reason with himself that maybe he had a meeting or a lot of paperwork or something, but that didn’t stop him from bouncing his leg and fidgeting around until Robin finished her final appointment. 

She only needed to look at him once to know something was up. She decided they were going to dinner together, and they walked to the diner three blocks down in silence.

It wasn’t until they had sent in their orders that Robin finally broke. 

“Okay, what’s going on? I haven’t seen you this nervous since your first date with Julian,” she stated.

“I might have fucked up Robin. Like big time.” She sighed, used to Steve’s dramatic tendencies, and sipped at her strawberry milkshake. 

“I doubt that, but I need more information. So spill.” 

“I asked Billy on a date,” he blurted out, knowing there was no use in bullshitting Robin.

“And? Seems like a logical move, Dingus. I was getting sick of the intense pinning like ten days ago.” 

“But, he left me on read Robin. We were talking about going out on Saturday and then I mentioned it was a date and boom. Radio silence.” 

“Okay, chill out. He was probably busy at work. You know how seriously he takes that shit.” 

“Yeah, but no response for three hours?” He said, voice raising in pitch on the last words. 

“I’m sure there’s some explanation. Have you reached out again?” Robin’s patient and even tone calmed Steve down a little, but his leg still bounced up and down rapidly as he thought over what she said. 

“No. I didn’t want to pressure him.” 

“Just send something unrelated to the date. Like your milkshake. You’ve done it a million times, it’s safe.” 

“Yeah. Okay. I can do that.” He nodded to himself before pulling out his phone, only to see a single snapchat notification amongst the barrage of emails and other random updates. It was from Billy. 

He immediately felt his heart leap into his throat, and Robin reached over to grab his hand that was still resting on the table. 

“Is it from him?” She questioned, deliberately neutral. 

“Yep,” he choked out. His finger shook as he opened up his phone, and he felt paralized by the little blue box letting him know it was a text response. He took a deep breath before clicking on it.

Sorry I was MIA, Pretty Boy. Got busy with work, but I’d love to see where you want to take me. He included a winking and smirking emoji. Steve let out a startled laugh as the anxiety slowly dissipated. 

“Code red officially over. I have a date on Saturday,” he informed Robin, and they finished up dinner with casual conversation about their various appointments throughout the day. They paid and eventually parted ways towards their respective apartments. 

He trudged up the stairs because the elevator in his building was perpetually broken, but stopped in his tracks when his door got within view. There, resting innocently on his doormat, was a simple bouquet of sunflowers and baby’s breath. He gently picked them up and noticed a small piece of cardstock. In simple black scratch it read I am sorry for the no response. I got nervous. Bill.

Steve smiled gently at the note and pulled the flowers close to smell the soft fragrance they held. He felt another wave of confidence swell and push him to walk into the apartment and pick up his phone. He called Billy and waited in excited anticipation for him to pick up. 

“I love them,” he said, and smiled a little more when Billy chuckled.

“I’m glad. They made me think of you.”

“Can’t wait for Saturday,” Steve confessed and Billy finally smiled back. 

“Me too, Pretty Boy. Feels like it’s been years in the making.”

That it had been, but man had it been worth the wait. 

----

tag team: @lostnoise @gideongrace @stevefuckingharrington @a-magey @trashmouth-hargrove @catharrington (lmk if you would like to be added/removed from the list!)

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Nothing Day

Summary: When Jensen notices the reader getting overwhelmed, he makes her take a Nothing Day...

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 2,100ish

Warnings: language

_____

It was quiet when you woke up. Too quiet. Your eyes flickered to the clock and you shot up out of bed.

“Shit,” you said, tossing back the covers. Of course your alarm clock decided to fail you.

“Y/N,” you heard from the other side of the room. You jumped out of bed and fell down, popping your head up to spot Jensen staring at you from the chair by the window, a book in his hands.

“Rough morning?” he asked, putting his book down. 

“Why didn’t you wake me up? The kids-“

“The small children are fine,” he said, walking over to you, pushing you back on the bed when you headed for the closet. “Go back to bed.”

“Jensen, I gotta-“

“It’s a Nothing day,” he said. You blinked up at him.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?“ you asked.

“I’m calling Nothing day on you,” he said. “We both know you can’t call it on yourself.”

“Honey, Nothing day is meant for you. You have such a hard time sometimes with just relaxing after working all season,” you said.

“Mhm. See, I’m making a new rule. Nothing day is for everyone in this house, including overworked Y/N’s,” he said.

“Overworked? I’m not overworked.”

“You set your alarm for seven. It’s Saturday. Saturday. When we were dating, you never got up this early. You hate getting up early,” he said.

“I am fine.”

“Tell that to the bags under your eyes.”

“Well thanks, dick,” you said, standing up and heading for the bathroom when he caught your arm. He wrapped his arms around you and picked you up, setting you back on the bed. “I-“

“Do you remember the hissy fit I threw the first time you did a Nothing day on me?” he asked.

“You were pissed,” you grumbled, glaring up at him. “I really am fine.”

“When’s the last time you got a full night of sleep?” he asked.

“Last night.”

“Wrong. Want to try again?”

“I want to go take a shower and get dressed,” you said.

“It is only 8:30. The kids aren’t even up,” he said.

“I know but they will be in half an hour so I need to get ready so I can try to have breakfast-“

“I thought I told you this is a Nothing day. This is non-negotiable and you know it. You came up with the rules,” he said. 

“Well I’m changing them,” you said, Jensen crossing his arms. “Jensen. Seriously, knock it off.”

“Well what is so urgently on your agenda?” he asked.

“Taking the dog out on a walk, feeding him, breakfast for the kids, getting them dressed, getting them to swim and gymnastics, cleaning their rooms, laundry, cleaning the house, pick up the kids and get them lunch, stop at work to do paperwork, grocery store on the way home, figure out dinner, play with the kids outside, baths, bedtime, bills, more work, a run on the treadmill and bed.”

“I see the problem,” he said. “You seem to have forgotten me.”

“We’ll find time to hang out and watch TV at some point,” you said. He smirked and shook his head.

“No. You don’t get it. You’re trying to do everything yourself. You’re acting like how stuff goes when I’m away. I am home,” he said.

“Yes. You’re home, on your break. Go golfing today like you were planning. You spend so much of the year working long days or flying just to spend a day with us. Please go relax,” you said.

“You realize this is part of why next year is my last. No more me being away for seven months in a row, home for three weeks and then gone again,” he said.

“Babe, you’ll always act,” you said.

“Yeah but it won’t be like this. I work a lot and so do you. Only difference is at the end of the day, I could go home and do what I wanted. No kids, no chores. It’s over with. Now my job is to watch your back and you need to take the day off, from everything. Please,” he said.

“I thought you stopped because-“

“I stopped for a lot of reasons. That was part of it. I want to be your best friend again, not the guy who pays for stuff,” he said. “Weren’t you gonna write me a movie too?”

“I am not writing you a supernatural movie,” you said.

“Yes you will,” he laughed. “Give it a few years. So, you gonna let me be in charge today?”

“I can do some-“

“Y/N.”

“Can I have my computer? To write?” you asked.

“Yes, you may have it...but no work,” he said. “And after you go back to bed for a little while, alright?”

“Fine,” you said, sighing as you lay back down, Jensen pulling your covers over you. “Did you want me to write down everything I said before?”

“Nope. I got this. You just stay there and do nothing, sweetheart.”

You woke up at ten, the dog conked out on Jensen’s side. You smiled as you got up, spotting the note on your nightstand.

No making the bed! It’s your first Nothing day so here’s a refresh of the rules: No work. No chores. You may do fun things. You may do lazy things. You may cook yourself food as long as it’s what you want to eat. You may do whatever you like today as long as it’s taking care of yourself only.

I got the kids and they’ll stay at my brother’s tonight. I’ll be back later with dinner. Enjoy your Nothing day sweetheart.

“Your dad’s kind of a sap, buddy,” you said, rubbing the dog’s stomach. “Let’s go see what we can get up to around here.”

“Beautiful girl,” you heard that evening, Jensen humming as he walked down the hall from the garage. You lifted your head up from the couch, looking over at him with a smile. “Someone looks like they had a nice day.”

“I didn’t do anything,” you said with a smile. “That smells yummy.”

“I got takeout from your favorite,” he said. “I got all your favorites.”

“That’s an obnoxious waste of money,” you said, hopping up and following him to the counter, Jensen humming again as we went over to the liquor cabinet and grabbed a bottle of wine.

“Yes but it's Nothing day,” he said, returning with a pair of glasses and pouring you each one. “So...how’d it go?”

“I really miss having fun and doing nothing,” you said.

“I was thinking today as I drove back from dropping the kids at my brothers place. We’re making some changes around here,” he said.

“What kind of changes,” you said, digging into a box of cheesy fries.

“A nanny.”

“No.”

“Yes. You need an extra pair of hands and my closest family is an hour away. Just during the week and not all day,” he said. “I don’t want to leave you like this for another year.”

“Fine but only during the school year,” you said. “And only next year when you’re gone.”

“Alright. I also want us to get someone that comes in every few weeks and does the nitty gritty cleaning. Day to day crap, we can deal with. But whole house clean, we can hire a service,” he said.

“I don’t want the kids thinking-“

“They make a mess, they clean it up. I want you to get some time back on the weekends for you. That’s all.”

“Any other demands?”

“We get more help at the business so you can cut back and maybe you can do things you enjoy again with all this new found time on your hands,” he said. “There will still be busy days. But you’re gonna let me help more, even when I’m working. Got it?”

“I must have worried you a lot,” you said, setting your hands in your lap.

“Yes. You did. I want to see you smile more again,” he said.

“I know,” you said, Jensen giving you a hug. “You asked me to smile that second episode we worked together. You weren’t feeling well that night and there was that summer storm. You were miserable.”

“The new girl who barely said a word to me outside of a scene was the one that came by my trailer to see if I was okay.”

“It was my first big job,” you shrugged. “I didn’t want to piss off the leads and get myself fired.”

“I’ve known you five years, Y/N. You never gave me a straight answer on why you checked on me that night,” he said.

“I could tell you were pretending you were okay. Everybody could. I didn’t…” you said, pursing your lips. “You’re shy.”

“I’m shy?” he laughed. “Never heard that as being an attractive quality.”

“No, I mean...I was literally the new girl and I moved across the country from my parents to another country and my first month really sucked. I don’t make friends just like that and you were super nice to me and offered to have lunch like everyday and I always went back to my trailer.

“So I felt like I’d screwed up, like I was the weird quiet girl so I kind of stayed away and then that night you were sick and I got you some cough drops from medical and you were so happy for them and made a huge deal out of it like I told you you won the lottery. Then at lunch you snuck off on your own and I said I’d find you for someone and you were throwing up and-“

“And you sat there with me and said it was okay,” he said. “I still don’t get the shy thing though.”

“You. You were so shy. You told me you’d get me sick.”

“I did get you sick.”

“Yeah but...you weren’t this big tough guy. You were just Jensen then. I don’t know where I’m going with this.”

“Well you ended up marrying me. I’d say it went somewhere.”

“I wasn’t intimidated by you for the first time then. I realized, you were like me and then I started to realize why you might be like me and-“

“And then we got Wendy’s at four in the morning the next week. That was our first date,” he said.

“That whole week when you were getting better whenever I asked if I could get you anything, you always said a smile. You liked when I smiled, said it made you feel good.”

“It does,” he said.

“That’s the part I never got a straight answer on,” you said.

“Wasn’t it obvious? I thought the new girl was cute. I know how hard it is to go it alone. I didn’t want to be too pushy or anything. Then I was sick and so embarrassed and that’s when you decide to start hanging out with me,” he said with a laugh. “You have always taken care of me. But you gotta start letting me do that for you too.”

“Alright, alright. I came up with an idea for your movie today,” you said.

“Oh, what is it?”

“You’ll find out in 2-4 years,” you said. “Whenever you guys get the itch for more.”

“Do anything else fun today, cutie?” he said, pulling your legs into his lap as you started to eat.

“Just hung out,” you said. “How long are the kids away?”

“They’ll be home tomorrow night. I’d like some hang out time with you too,” he said.

“You did like zero chores today,” you smiled.

“Not a single one and somehow, the house is still standing,” he said.

“Thank you for forcing me to relax today,” you said. “You may have to do that more often.”

“Well hopefully with some help, you don’t get that stressed again. For now though, there is an obnoxious amount of food for us to eat and a child free house calling our names,” he said.

“Dork?”

“Yes, loser?”

“I love you.”

“Love you too. Happy first Nothing day, Y/N.”

______

[mollymauk-teafleak]

baby, you’re like lightning in a bottle (chapter two)

Huge thanks to my beta readers @spiky-lesbian and @minky-for-short!

Please reblog or leave a comment on Ao3! Really makes my day!

Chapters : 1, 2

-------

First rule of thieving, hiding something under the floorboards is as bad as putting it on a pedestal surrounded by flashing lights. First rule of thieving, don’t just have one planned exit, have ten. First rule of thieving, a smile and a joke can open some doors money can’t. First rule of thieving, doors are merely suggestions. First rule of thieving, be in bed before ten or I’m taking your comms off you, Pete, don’t try me.

Peter ran through every rule he could remember, every little pearl of wisdom or dry sarcasm he’d ever heard Mag say, smugly while they were on a job that was going well, whispered while they were sneaking through somewhere they weren’t supposed to be and had to be quiet, panted breathlessly as they were fleeing the scene of the crime, pronounced with a soft fondness back home after a successful gig, Peter sat reading at Mag’s feet, Mag’s hand coming down on his shoulder to give it a proud squeeze. Hundreds of first rules and he’d remembered them all.

And not a single one justified what he was doing right now.

He’d fallen behind the Steel twins as they walked through the corridors, Ben sometimes throwing a smile over his shoulder to him, Juno doing the same with suspicious scowls. Everything Peter Nureyev had been taught told him to go back the other way, find somewhere quiet to sit amongst the other students and play the role he’d built so fastitiously and shown off so proudly, promising to do a good job. And then, as soon as the day ended, he could begin the real work. Done in three days, back on Brahma before the week was out. Back home, clutching the proof that he was ready to do whatever it might take to fight for his planet.

And maybe make the weight on his shoulders a little lighter.

So why was he following these guys, one of whom seemed to actively despise him, going who knew where to do who knew what? Peter hadn’t quite figured that out yet, in spite of his growing army of doubts. And he wasn’t turning back either.

“I thought we were going to lunch?” he ventured, like he could just ask the right questions and he’d realise why his brain appeared to have fallen out the back of his skull, “Isn’t the cafeteria back that way?”

Ben gave a twirl and walked backwards so he could answer, apparently not caring if he crashed into anything, trusting Juno would jerk him out of the way, “It is. But us cool kids have a way better place to eat.”

“Where?” Peter asked apprehensively. He now realised they’d moved into corridors with empty, silent classrooms, with no other students loitering against the walls. Had he walked right into some trap? Were they about to jump him? Ben had a nice smile, he’d hate to have to shatter it.

“You’ll see,” Ben only grinned mysteriously, before Juno roughly yanked him back the right way so he would see he’d been about to but his foot right in a janitor’s bucket.

Peter sighed and shifted his backpack so he’d be able to free his knife more easily. So much for making friends and blending in. Maybe this would teach him to stick to the goddamn plan.

Luckily he wasn’t planning to stick around until detention.

Eventually they reached the very far corner of the school and saw two other students standing by a fire exit. One was an almost comically tall young man, taller even than Peter, long dreadlocks pulled back from his face by a band, both jeans and shirt ripped in places and stained with what looked like machine grease. The other was a girl with her black hair cut short and rather severe, the plain clothes and tight line of her jaw making her look thoroughly like someone not to be messed with.

Ben gave a shout of delight as soon as he saw them and took off at a run, throwing himself into the arms of the tall kid, who caught him and immediately kissed him fiercely, a little more than two people with an audience should really kiss.

Juno groaned and the girl rolled her eyes, saying, “You guys have only been apart for one period, you do realise that? You don’t have to act like one of you was lost at sea.”

“You know what they’re like, Sasha,” Juno grunted, approaching at a much more leisurely pace.

“Disgusting?”

“Hey!” Ben drew back, the tall boy’s face now thoroughly stained with his lipstick, “An hour’s a long time, it’s relative!”

“I’m your fucking relative,” Juno shot back, “And making me watch you suck Mick’s face every five seconds ought to be some kind of crime.”

“Since when have we cared what’s a crime and what isn’t?” the tall guy, evidently Mick, asked with an endearing sincerity.

“Speaking of which, let’s get going,” the girl, Sasha, got to her feet, “I’m starving.”

Peter stood, waiting for one of them to ask who the hell he was or what he thought he was doing here. They all interacted with the practised ease he’d seen in people who’d known each other for a very long time, who’d been through a lot together and had proven trust to be easily traded back and forth. And he was the outsider, the unfamiliar face. Not a feeling he was unaccustomed to, not by a long shot, but he was used to it coming along with hostile looks and questions.

But neither Sasha nor Mick even questioned his presence. Mick was far more preoccupied with Ben in his arms and Sasha merely glanced at him and then at Juno. Juno’s frown only deepend and his eyes went to Ben accusingly. To Sasha, that seemed to answer everything.

Peter kept his face impassive, like he hadn’t seen any of it. Though his heart seemed to sit lower in his chest than before.

“If you’re done scarring us all?” Juno raised an eyebrow at Mick and Ben.

“Sure,” Ben smiled primly and hopped back onto his own two feet, addressing Peter now, “There’s security guards that patrol the grounds but they’re lazy and their routines are so obvious it’s really embarrassing. All we have to do is run from here to the fence, jump it and be gone in five minutes. Easy peasy, yeah?”

Peter could only stand there and gape, “And...this is us going to lunch?”

Ben gave a bark of laughter, punching him in the arm again. He seemed to do that a lot.

“I love this guy! Hey, all you gotta do is keep up. Eyes on us, keep moving and you’ll be fine.”

Sasha already had the fire door open to the strange but not entirely unexpected absence of any alarm. She poked her head through the small gap, looking this way and that with a practised, almost military eye that Peter would envy if he wasn’t so sure of himself.

“Okay, it’s all clear. Let’s move,” she motioned them through, taking off at a run.

Ben and Mick followed, hand in hand. For a few moments it was just him and Juno, Peter wondering awkwardly if he should say something and what that something might be until the chance was gone and Juno ran after his friends without even a glance in his direction.

Last chance. He could turn and walk in the opposite direction now, the smoothest extraction he was likely to get. He could just avoid them tomorrow, get his head down, focus on his job and, after that, he’d never see any of them again. It wouldn’t matter.

And there was something about that fact that Peter couldn’t stand. So he ran.

Peter had learned a long time ago that he’d never win if the contest was purely based on strength so he’d gotten very good at running and running fast. And over the cracked, hard baked playing fields that were more crumbling dirt than actual grass, he practically flew towards the tall, barbed wire topped fencing that surrounded the school and made it look more like a prison than anything Peter had seen in streams about high school. By the time he was close enough to see, he caught Mick’s sneaker disappearing behind one of the buildings that surrounded the school, mostly businesses long closed down and housing with boarded up windows. And Juno had just reached the bottom of the fence and the scrabby, overgrown bushes that fringed it, ready to jump.  

In his head, Peter had been keeping a count ever since Ben had told them they had five minutes to make their escape. First rule of thieving, time is your best friend and your worst enemy so know how to keep an eye on it. There was just over a minute remaining.

With a grace that startled Peter, Juno scaled the fence, stamping down the barbed wire with one boot so he could lever himself over without so much as snagging his tights. He was just about to start on his way down when the two of them froze simultaneously at the same sound, above the distant noise of the city and the roads and the faint hollering from the school. These were voices, much more immediate, much closer, just from the other side of the wilting shrubbery. And getting closer by the second.

Juno cursed gruffly and eyed Peter, scrawny, anxious newbie Peter Ransom, just coming to the bottom of the fence, still with a climb and a tangle of rusty but still wicked metal to content with. For a moment, it was crystal clear what was about to happen. Juno would give him one last sneer then drop to the other side and run, leaving Peter to be caught by the security guards and dragged to detention. It was the only thing that made sense.

But it seemed like Peter wasn’t the only one who wasn’t following the rules. After half a beat, he held out his hand, reaching down to the guy he’d been growling at all day.

“Will you hurry up?” he snapped, voice an angry hiss but his arm outstretched.

Peter’s eyes widened, having to pause and check he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing. And then he frowned.

Quick as a squirrel, he dug his fingers into the links of the fence and scrambled up without so much as a stumble, moving so swiftly and deftly that all he had to do was vault himself over the wire and land with all the flair of a gymnast. And then it was Juno’s turn to drop his jaw.

“Will you please hurry up?” Peter asked politely before running in the direction he’d seen Mick go.

Not the smartest thing he’d ever done. Definitely one of the smuggest. Hardly in character. But Peter couldn’t deny that the look in Juno’s eyes and the half second before he heard him climb down and run after him was incredibly satisfying.

Apparently what that daring escape had been in service of was an abandoned alleyway that the friends had turned into some kind of fort. Crates had been stacked up like walls, a sagging tarpaulin that looked like it had once been part of a display on a storefront would keep off the simulated rain, ratty fabrics had been strung up between the crates and another fence, shielded with broken down cardboard boxes provided seating and a trash can that had clearly held many fires inside it’s buckled and blackened skin was set down in the centre.

When Nureyev arrived, Ben and Mick were already sharing one of those improvised hammocks. Ben laughed in delight when he saw him duck under the roof that still advertised 50% off who knew what.

“I knew you’d make it!” Ben grinned, nearly tipping both him and Mick onto the filthy ground in his eagerness to give Peter a high five.

“I saw how fast you were running,” Mick agreed, gripping the neck of his boyfriend’s sweatshirt and the fence so he didn’t tumble, “That was way cool.”

“He did fine,” behind Peter came a sour growl that told him Juno had entered just behind him. If he’d been hoping for some kind of grudging respect or acceptance after what happened back at the fence, it was clear he’d be disappointed, “Where’s Sasha?”

“Getting lunch,” Ben collapsed back against Mick’s chest, either not seeing or deliberately ignoring his twin’s foul mood.

Juno grunted, collapsing into a hammock of his own. Peter realised he should take a seat too but he wasn’t sure where exactly. It was pretty impressive, as far as dens made of garbage in dank smelling alleyways went. Clearly they’d been coming here a long time, improving it slowly over time, adding and expanding. But something about it’s cobbled together half comforts reminded Peter too much of years he’d rather forget. Years when places like this had been all he’d had to call home.

But that was Peter Nureyev’s past, not Peter Ransom’s. Ransom didn’t have a lifespan beyond nine am that morning and three pm on Friday. Outside of that handful of days, he didn’t exist. As long as he wore that name, he didn’t have those memories.

So he sat himself down on an overturned trash can, folding his legs under himself and pretending to listen while Ben teased his brother, Juno bit back, and Mick interjected occasionally with his unique kind of empty headed sincerity.

Almost ten minutes passed and Sasha didn’t return though no one but Peter seemed to notice.

Eventually he cleared his throat, “Uh...there’s ten minutes before next period.”

“And?” Juno raised an eyebrow.

Ben rolled his eyes at his brother and shrugged to Peter, “We’ve always seen our schedules more as suggestions than hard and fast rules, y’know? We’ll slip in sometime before the last lesson. No one notices as long as you come back at some point.”

Peter bit his lip. He wasn’t sure how he felt about a plan that was optional. Whenever he was given a place to be and a time to be there, he took it seriously. Thieves who didn’t soon found themselves in prison. Or, on Brahma, worse. Even now, years since he’d lacked the skills to avoid it, he felt his chest tighten and a creeping sense of alarm making him glance nervously at the sky around nine at night. That was the curfew imposed by New Kinshasa.

“You can head back if you want? We don’t mind?”

Mick’s voice had quietened and, for the first time since he’d met him, his eyes weren’t on Benzaiten. He was letting the brothers continue their squabbling and looking to Peter instead, his eyes concerned and kind.

Peter swallowed and shook his head. As deep in as he already was, he’d rather stay amongst the people who smiled at him like that. And it wasn’t like there was much to preserve in Peter Ransom’s attendance record, seeing as he wouldn’t exist in a week.

Eventually Sasha reappeared again, coming right over the fence and dropping into their midsts, holding paper bags in both hands. On them was the logo for a fast food joint Peter always saw in streams but had never made it to the backwater planets like Brahma.

“They really should invest in better security. They’re a gazillion cred company, you’d think they’d be able to afford a guard on the door,” she tossed her short hair and started distributing parcels that smelled of grease, salt and unhealthy levels of goodness.

“Hope not,” Juno mumbled around a mouthful of meat and cheese, “I’m not about to start paying for this crap.”

“Food only tastes good if it’s free,” Ben nodded in agreement.

Sasha dropped one of the bags in Nureyev’s lap, “Sorry, I didn’t know what you liked so I just went for a cheeseburger and fries. That okay?”

Peter had to remind himself of his current last name to chase away the tightness in his throat. Peter Ransom had never gone hungry. Peter Ransom had never spent days not knowing where his next meal was coming from. Peter Ransom had no reason to want to cry at someone just handing him food like he was worthy of it.

“Yeah, that’s great. Thanks.”

The rest of it was all in jokes Peter didn’t understand, references to people he didn’t know and places he’d never been. Mick seemed to do a lot of the talking, he had a storyteller’s kind of cadence and a way of gesturing as he spoke to snag attention easily. Peter had heard enough bullshit in his life and had studied enough about Hyperion to not believe a single word of the rambling anecdotes he told but they were kind of comforting. So he stayed silent, ate and listened to descriptions of people and places that didn’t exist, letting the food and the scent of the cigarettes they lit warm him through.

He was so lost in it, it took Ben three attempts to get him to answer and he found himself jumping guiltily, “Sorry, what?” First rule of thieving, always be aware even if you don’t look like it. Especially if you don’t.

“I asked if you wanted to come to this party tomorrow night, one of the kids from my math class has their parents out of town and they said anyone’s cool to come,” Ben smiled encouragingly. He hadn’t taken a cigarette when they’d been passed round. Peter knew if he focused and thought, he’d have been able to work out why but something about that seemed wrong now.

Instead he bit his lip and answered, “Sure. Yeah, that sounds fun.” He could just say he was sick when the time came.

“Awesome! Anyway, what do you have last period, we’ll tell you where to head once we get back.”

Peter fished for the now creased and folded schedule he’d been given that morning, “Uh...Earth History?”

“No way!” Ben’s grin widened, “So does Juno! You guys can walk over there together and he can show you his notes. They’re shit but it’s a start.”

Over in his corner, Juno coughed and hacked for a reason that didn’t have anything to do with his cigarette. He shot Ben a scandalised look, thin grey trails trickling from his nose, “Benzaiten…”

Unconcerned, he met Juno's eyes. It really was scary how similar they were, past the dyed hair and the piercings, how they could hold the exact same fierceness. Benten just did it more subtly.

“What? That’s your class. Ransom doesn’t know where he’s going and he’s never taken the subject before. Why wouldn’t you help him?”

There was a tense moment, where Sasha and Mick shared an anxious look and Peter wanted to shrink down into his oversized shirt and disappear. But it was only a moment. Juno looked away with his jaw set in resignation and Ben continued smiling like nothing had happened. He just jumped up, pulling Mick along with him.

“So! Let’s head back.”

The way back was far more leisurely than their breakneck escape. No one cared when you were coming back to the place you were supposed to be.

Still seething, Juno put as much distance as he could between himself and Peter without being belligerently obvious about it. Which was all well and good, if you believed distance was the only factor in someone overhearing you. If you believed the kid you were mad at for some inexplicable reason was just a regular kid and not someone who’d been trained in finding out things people didn’t want him to know since the age of six.

Back in school, with the corridors silent except for the muffled noise behind the classroom doors, Mick and Sasha went off in their own directions, leaving just the three of them. Seeing that Juno clearly had no intention of walking to Earth History with him, Peter just gave them both a quick goodbye, saving grace by saying he needed to get something from his locker before class started.

He didn’t even know where his locker was.

From around the corner, tucked into the space between two banks of the regular metal cupboards, Peter could hear every word of the brothers’ conversation.

Almost as soon as he’d gone beyond the corner, he heard Juno round on his twin, “What the fuck is your-”

“I was going to ask you the same thing!” Benten didn’t let him finish, his voice tenser than it had ever been in front of Peter, “God, Juno, the kid’s done nothing wrong! He just needs some friends and you’re acting like such a bitch!”

“Come on,” Juno sounded uncomfortable in the face of Ben’s exasperation. Peter got the feeling, just from his voice, that upsetting his twin wasn’t something he made a habit of, “It’s not just that. I see the look on your face, the whole ‘ooh, Juno, why don’t you walk the new kid to class, ooh Juno let’s invite the new kid to the party’ schtick…”

“Well, enlighten me then,” Ben countered, softening a little too, “Because I’m confused. Someone showing up, looking like he does...Juno, I know you, you should have stuck your tongue down his throat by now! You’ve done it before with people way less good looking and nice than Ransom, you two would actually be good together! Is this a new weird way of flirting or something?”

In his hiding place, Peter swallowed hard and felt his face heat up. The immature thoughts he’d had when he first saw Juno made themselves known, skittering not entirely unpleasantly in his stomach. Until Juno’s words froze them.

“First off, rude. Second of all...look, I just can’t stand the guy. Something about him just...it doesn’t feel right. Like he’s hiding something. And I want to find out what it is.”

He decided he’d heard enough, walking away quickly, not even sure if it was the way he was supposed to be going or not. To his shame, Peter felt tears building hotly in his eyes. Whether it was because he’d derailed his job for a pretty face who couldn’t bear the sight of him or because he was ashamed of how he’d allowed himself to be taken in and slip up so dangerously or just because he was sick of being here where he didn’t understand anything, Peter didn’t know. But he knew what he had to do now.

He had to complete his mission and get the hell away from Mars and Juno Steel as fast as he could.

[ginwhitlock]

Southbound ch 1/ ch 2 / CH 3 : Null Wind

After the Cullens leave her behind, Bella is left to pick up the pieces by herself. A year after her eighteenth birthday, a split second decision lands her in her truck, running far away from everything she has ever known. She decides to go south. What will she find in San Angelo, Texas?

I’d never felt so warm.

The golden light streaming through the open windows heated up the room in a dry embrace. I could see the filtering haze over every piece of honey-lacquered furniture piece in the living room. Bookcases lined up and down the walls on either side of the front door, highlighting a sitting area around a hand-tooled turkish rug. The dining room to my immediate right looked unused but tidy. For some reason, the live oak table looked like it could comfortably seat four. Who else did Peter entertain?

A drawn-out wind carried through the windows. I’ve had to learn that Texas breeze is just that-- a breeze and nothing more. Had I not already had to endure the minimum eighty-five degree heat shield for the early majority of my life and not to mention the last two months, my jeans would feel like I was carrying steel wool up a mountain. 

“Here Bell-- if I can call you Bell,” Peter started, arm still resting on the bronze door handle leading to the outside behind me, “go ahead and kick up your feet on the sofa and I’ll getcha somethin’ to simmer down this blasted heat.”

I could hear his wooden heels click on the tile as he retreated into what I could only assume to be the kitchen, being that the floor was formatted like a doll house. Walls dividing the arid space without exception. 

Esme would have been horrified. 

The thought of her heart-shaped face made my heart flip, the stoney exterior cracking and shifting in my chest. The brick wall I’ve put up started to claw its way out of my throat. 

I slunk over to the dusty-looking brown chair in the corner, its position allowing me to see the front door and the kitchen opening to my right with ease. All my exits are straight-legged in front of me. If I bolted before he came back in, I could make it to the door handle in just enough time. But god, what would I do then? If the truck is on it’s last leg-- if on any legs at all-- I’m sure it's hardly worth a likely buckshot in the ass. 

As my back pockets touched the softened hide my brain went into full overdrive. 

What do you think WERE doing? We should be on the road, basting Lynard Skynard in some southwestern dry county, not act like you’re meeting a boy’s parents for THE SECOND TIME EVER! Do you not have any common sense? What would happen if Edwar--

“I hope you like sun tea.”

A rough-knuckled hand held out a glass filled to the brim with squared off iced cubes and murky brown liquid. The cup glittered with a department store shine. 

They must’ve been his special ones. Guess no one gets guests out here. 

My hand slowly reached out and took it, a tentative sip following, my fingers sliding on the chilled surface. It tasted like roses and honeysuckle, a contrast to the red dirt lining my soles and the open air around everything here. 

It was only then that I realised he had taken off his hat. 

His eyes were beautiful. Mahogany stained, hand-sanded, fired art. The swirling of reflective speckling nearest his pupils brought out the darkened freckles on his cheeks. His sandy blonde brows shaded his lashes in a trimmed fence line. Peter looked the part of a country, fair haired, Marlon Brando, and I realized in that moment my stare was reflecting in his eyes in a glass-like mirror. My brain swam to the surface, focusing on the change in his facade. 

His mouth set in that same childish grin, matching his soft, playful features. “Again with the staring. Do you do much else darlin’?”

A beet red blush spread across my cheeks like margarine. I could feel the long forgotten heat spread down my neck and onto my chest. 

As I was about to speak, something changed in his whiskey-soaked sightline. His almost boyish features hardened into a grimace. His hand fisted my own, setting the tea on the coffee table at the crease of his calves. 

Finding my tongue growing heavy in my mouth I spoke, “Pe-ter is everything okay?” My eyes raced to his hand as it rose to his collar. 

In an instant his face physically uncramped, the smile coming back to features, wolfier now more than ever. But his eyes gathered into slits in a humourless way. 

“You just have such a pretty blush, Bell, you flush like a schoolgirl, ya know that?”

His voice came out hushed. Slow as molasses on a frigid winter afternoon. Like each word was a connecting jigsaw puzzle and he was looking for the next piece. In response, saliva ran down my throat like I had had a cold, the heat rising through the air and into my head. The knot in my stomach felt like it was tightening, closer and closer to snapping if he leaned any farther into my face. 

A rogue wind blew through a set of copper windchimes on the front porch. 

Peter’s stare disconnected as he rushed to pop open the button of his collar in a quick flick of his fingers. A true smile replaced the earlier one and spread over his upper lips and into his eyes. His mouth reminded me of a slow, murky river. The kind no one should go into without a life jacket. But the kids still try it, and all you hear is shouting from a town over, nothing coming from their mother’s lips but sobbing for the next forty-odd years. 

“Oh lord-- sorry lil Bell, didn’t mean to get in yer space like that, the south winds here are just…” His voice hardened, “just wash somethin’ over the house… over me today.”

His feet, still clad with his cowboy boots, shifted around the stump of a table and to the couch he had mentioned before. It’s long back almost obscured the front door with his added height. 

Without the coffee table, with our feet outstretched, we could’ve touched. 

I calmed down my breathing enough to speak coherently, “No… I get it. Definitely… get it.” A swallow followed to bring the collection of spit back down. 

Jesus Bella could you have gotten that out any less freaked out? Something is thoroughly wrong with this man PLUS whatever the hell ‘winds’ he’s talking about, you could very well be putting yourself in more danger than you ever had in Forks. He could be plotting to dump your body out in the desert for god sake. 

Or he just thinks you’re pretty. Maybe this is just how cowboys act, huh? This could be what you’ve been wishing for for months, Bella. Some cowboy to take you away. Wait... how does that song go? A bastardized voice came from the back of my skull. The same sickly-sweet tone that turned off my blaring alarms around…

“So what brings you to San Ang?”, Peter rolled out, his feet landing on the table, his hands stretched out behind his fluffy blonde halo. A small sliver of pale skin could be seen right above his belt. I looked to the floor before answering, only adding to the stupid blush which hadn’t left.

“Just traveling. Relationship went bad. Could even say it nuked my life.”

The oddly reassuring nod from before came back in full force, a stark contrast from the baited silence he blew across my face what seemed like just moments before. If he tries something, what does it matter if I tell him the rest of the story? I sighed, my body curling forward to grab the glass again. “He just sort of left me. He took my heart with him, you know. For a year I wandered around my hometown, numb to my core, just looking for anything he left behind. I even had a friend try to pull me out of it. I think I ended up pushing him away before I left.

“So now I’m here. Came into Texas maybe a month and a half ago. Just followed the road signs,” My eyes snapped up to his, “there aren’t any on this road.”

Peter’s brows quirked up in a laughably adorable way-- am I really calling the potential nutbag adorable?

Almost as if he felt my mood change, he laughed. A full belly, hands on his chest, forehead wrinkled like the Sunday morning newspaper, laugh. 

The sound eased away my present fear and outrage just a hair. 

“My lil Bell-- don’t you get what private property means? You’re smack dab in the middle of abouta’ hundred acres of nothin’, missy. The mud you found yerself on was just a walkin’ trail through the land.”, Peter belted out, body leaning forward, his hands lowering to his knees. 

My thoughts raced, but only one sentence formed in my mouth, its edges familiar window glass, “It’s Bella.”

A snort started his response, “C’mon. A little girl like you don’t wanna be referred to lika singin’ cartoony princess? You gotta be shittin’ me darlin.” He blew out a harsh stream of wind through his teeth. I could almost visualize him sitting on a porch somewhere spitting out peanut shells, dust coating the tops of his jeans. 

“Listen I don’t need your sympathy or your criticism of my ability to navigate. I’ve been doing just fine on my own, just let me see a phone and I’ll get outta your hair.” My body became heated with a different kind of feeling, the anger rushing through me at his insult. I stood up, my jeans ripping away from the leather seat. 

His form didn’t move an inch. His eyes rolled into his head and went to stare right back at me. 

“Bell,” I pinched my eyebrows together at the nickname but he continued, “I’m not insultin’ ya, I’m proud that you got this far south on yer own two feet. I have to say I didn’t expect much from a girl sleepin’ in her own truck in the middle of some one-way backroad, but you’re surprising’ me in a lot of ways.” His eyes swept to the kitchen for a quick second. 

“Oh and Bell, The nickname works. Trust me on it. It’s that voice of yers. Sounds like Christmas carolin.”

My face constricted in a dumb-found expression, the observation rattling me to my core. I’d never thought of my voice as anything other than dull compared to the Cullens. Some lifeless monotone of a teenage girl. His face looked sincere, the braziness fading behind his eyes. He looked even sweet as he said the last few words. Like there was a memory he wasn't sharing in between them. 

I managed to get out soft ‘thank you’ as my anger faded to a null ache. My hands climbed up my hips to my collarbones as I held myself in a self-cradle. 

I could almost hear a piece of the cement around my heart cracking in the nonexistent wind. I had left my light jacket in the truck, and yet, I felt as if I was hiding behind another barrier, a straight jacket around my collapsing sanity. Their memory, their mob horns tic home and their sing-song voices and their obviously faked investment into my life trying to weasel its way out. 

“Sweetheart you’re rocking.”

Looking down at my posture I could see the slight sway to my stance, a mechanism I had developed just nights after He left me in the forest, Charlie had said it was a self soothing technique. I just thought it was proof that I may be actually losing my mind. “Oh, Sorry.” My legs brought me back down to my seat in a slow collapse. 

His smile widened, his pearly-white teeth showing themselves off for the first time. I expected a crinkle to appear around his eyes, but it never did. I wondered what it did look like when the lines overcame his face in the night, what kind of beauty showed through when he was alone. 

“Nothin’ to be sorry about Bell, I get what you’re doin’.”

I nodded my head, almost not present in the conversation. My eyes glued to my lap. 

“And about that phone… I called my brother earlier, he’s on a huntin’ trip not far from here. He should be home soon and I’ll have him fix up your truck. No worries darlin’, no worries.” His hand found hovered over the bridge of my knuckles making my eyes drift up into his. I found a genuine kindness in them, and something else I couldn’t identify. Again, there was something about the words as they curled through his mouth. Like he knew something I didn’t. 

Peter’s hand slowly retracted to his belt, the shine of the metal highlighted by a beam of sun through the windows. It bounced back onto his skin, creating a shimmer. 

My thoughts captured that and put it into the back of my mind for later. “When is he gonna be back?”

A determined gleam sauntered into the quirk of his lip. 

“Tonight my lil Bell, he’ll be back tonight.”

For some reason my stomach twisted at his words, and not just at the warm butterflies the nickname started to ignite. 

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

The Price of Privilege - Part 13 (A Kyungsoo Series)

Genre: ANGST / Romance / Arranged Marriage / Royalty AU

Characters: Kyungsoo X You

Description: The time has come to marry the man your family has selected to take your hand. As royalty, these important matters are arranged for you, but when you meet your soon to be husband, he is nothing like you expected.

WARNINGS: Kidnapping, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of Self-Harm, Mentions of Murder -- When i say angst, i really do mean angst

The Price of Privilege [M]: - part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 , part 9 , part 10 , part 11, part 12 , part 13 , part 14, part 15

You were burning.

And you were running. 

A fire had begun somewhere within your depths and your ragged breaths fanned the flames that licked at the base of your skull by now; burning and singeing and blistering; they had already made they way up your weakened ribcage as they rose up higher — it was panic. It was conviction. It was hideous.

You were alight with it and in its wake —charred, sooty, black ash began to fill your chest cavity.

You were burning. 

He was gone. 

Each hallway you searched came up empty of his face. The other faces, faces of strangers with their useless surprised expressions and their unfamiliar eyes that were not his. 

You mindlessly ran with your search and that fiery dread inside of you devoured the structure of your bones and the faster you ran; the less you saw — the panic was taking you — he was gone, he was gone —

Where could he have gone? Gone with those devastating words on his lips and that determined and desperate look in his eyes that told you with absolute certainty that he was capable...that he was capable…

Something horrible.

What would he do? What could he do? 

Another empty hallway. Your panic had taken your rational mind and thrown it away and you groaned out loud when you recognized the same ornate golden bust that stood atop of a marble pillar at the end of this hallway. 

You’d gone in circles. You didn’t even know where you stood nor for how long you had been searching. 

The fire inside of you was beginning to change from something that burned and ached into something else. Something that was hopeless. Something you could not overcome. 

The hands that you ran over your face felt like someone else’s. They were shaking so hard. 

You could not feel their pressure against your wet cheeks. 

You could not feel any warmth in them at all. 

Think.

Just think, please—

Your lungs fought you, but you managed to pull in a deep breath. Something substantial. Something that brought a flash of clarity into your mind that quickly faded into the background of all the chaos inside of you and you lifted a numb and trembling hand up, parallel to your face — just before you lost the nerve.

The flash was a memory. Something that you had lived through before. When the realities of your life overcame and you mistakenly believed that you were allowed to forget. When you could not control yourself and act correctly. When you failed to behave as a member of the royal family and you were reminded again and again of the importance of playing your part well. 

Reminded by your tutors. Reminded by your instructors who had been given and taken as many liberties as needed to shape you into the Princess you were always meant to be. Reminded with hot, heavy hands and in places that would be hidden well by designer clothing — reminded of your place; of what was expected of you. 

How absolutely silly of you to think that you could get away with this sort of behavior; so unbecoming of the title bestowed upon you by God himself; so uncouth; so graceless and so ill-bred. 

Without the swift hands of someone who held some temporarily ordained power over you, you had to do it yourself. 

You hit hard; an echoing slap sounded out in the space around your burning body and a pair of eyes — a stranger; not him — turned at the shock of the heavy sound as the pain erupted over the entire right side of your face and you felt it. You felt the sting of the swift slap. You felt the burning in your skin and much deeper into your muscles and your jaw and you ached as the vibration of the impact settled and lingered there. 

You felt shocked awake. It felt so familiar; this pain to set you right again. 

Your once hazy and stupid brain sharpened and you forced your hands to still themselves of this absurd trembling and you remembered now. 

Rushing around this palace in aimless circles would do no good. Only a fool would approach this situation that way. Only a crude individual would act in such an untoward manner. 

You had to find him. If not him, then someone who was close to him. An ally. Not your own; you had too few precious friends in this place, but someone who would bend over backward to help Prince Kyungsoo. To save him from himself if needed. Someone who he wouldn’t push away. Someone who could get to him.

Someone who loved him.  

With your newfound steady mind, you found a touch of the familiar in your surroundings. There was a haunting painting on the wall. This one showed a beautiful maiden; perhaps someone important from the history books. Her eyes followed you as you walked by. She had so much judgment in them. With each step you crept her eyes brought a fresh wave of guilt for your many sins. You were certain she knew of all of them. She’d have had a front-row seat to it all. 

A turn to the left would bring you to a fork and a right after the second set of picture windows overlooking the courtyard would bring you to Kyungsoo’s hallway; to his front door. 

The first set of swift knocks you placed upon his door went unanswered. When you pounded a second time, louder and with more urgency, you heard a sound on the other side of his doorway that preceded the beeping of an alarm system being deactivated and the door pulled open.

From what you knew about the man and the very little trust he placed in people, there was only one person other than himself who would be opening this door. 

“Ara.” You said her name as soon as her eyes met yours and her head bowed quickly as a look of surprise flashed over her features.

“Your Highness, what brings—”

“Is Prince Kyungsoo inside?”

There was but a moment of pause in her eyes before she glanced over your appearance and her expression changed from idle curiosity to genuine worry. You hadn’t even thought about how you might look. Your tear-stained face and loose sweats hastily thrown on after dinner when Kyungsoo showed up at your place to demand his painful truths. Her head was shaking back and forth quickly and her lips hung open for a moment as she considered.

“He...was, but he left — has something happened? Something…bad?” Her voice was small and unsure and you couldn’t be certain that she wasn’t whispering due to the sensitive nature of the situation or if she was just that quiet all the time. 

You could feel your mouth wanting to close. Wanting to clam up and deny any wrong-doing; any culpability in this. You wanted to keep everything deep down inside and turn around and go back, but you straightened your shoulders and lifted your head, leaning in close to the smaller woman who stood halfway through the doorway of his home.

Kyungsoo. For him, you would talk to her. He trusted her completely and there had to be a good reason for that. 

“Ara, I need to speak with you urgently. It’s about His Highness.” Your own voice had dropped to a whisper to match her quiet voice and you eked out the subject of the discussion in a nearly inaudible tone. 

She physically stiffened and her eyes glanced away from you, somewhere off in the hallway where when you followed her eyes you saw a ceiling-mounted camera. 

“I am sorry, Your Highness, but I don't believe I could be of any help to you.” 

At last, she spoke up. You knew it was for the cameras that monitored this hallway and you wondered who might be listening in. 

“Ara, I think something bad—”

“I beg your pardon, Your Highness, but my loyalty to my lord prohibits me from having this conversation here with you.” Her voice had interrupted your words and you caught the intense way her eyes held on tightly to your own. There was something hidden inside her eyes. It was there in the final words she spoke. 

Here with you.

This was not a safe place to talk. Your words here were not private. Ara was quick-witted and cautious. Perhaps this was why he had trusted her so.

“I understand,” you said softly, racking your own mind for some solution, some way that you could speak openly and honestly with her about the delicate situation without every word from your mouth being on some sort of official royal record.

“Perhaps a walk around the west gardens might serve to soothe your worries. It’s nighttime and the moonflowers are ready to bloom. You might find it to be just the recipe to cook up a perfectly satisfying solution to your problems, Your Highness.”

Ara’s tone had changed halfway through her words to you, the first half being quite light and jovial, and of perfectly audible volume, while the second half; something cryptic about a recipe,, was muttered at a lower, more hidden volume. 

When you did not immediately agree with her assessment of what you needed to be doing in the west gardens after the sunset — which hadn’t quite happened yet, you had definitely still seen some light peeking through the windows when you walked by the garden’s earlier, you actually caught half an eye roll that punctuated the frustrated sigh that left her lips. 

“Do you understand my meaning, Your Highness?” 

Frankly, you did not. You just wanted to meet with her to speak somewhere privately. Why was she suggesting the gardens? They were situated in a central courtyard, not even on the west side of the house if you really thought about it. Those gardens that were overlooked on all four sides by floors and floors of window-lined hallways. Literally, everyone who walked by any of the number of windows would see you meeting with her under the light of the moon standing in front of whatever in the world a moonflower plant was supposed to look like. 

The moon wasn't even out yet, there had to be 10 more minutes of sunset before the light disappeared enough to see the moon. And what was this about cooking? Recipe? She had practically whispered that part. You were never very good at riddles. What could she mean to mention cooking? 

But… there was something that was coming to your mind now. Something related to him. His kitchen — his passion, his cooking, his recipes. The one that was smashed to bits by the Queen’s cronies when he didn’t immediately respond to her demands.

The one that had been closed off for some time now and had been located on the west side of the palace. It would be unmonitored, and perhaps there weren’t even cameras over there since it had been completely destroyed all those weeks ago. 

Your expression must have changed as you figured it out because you saw the first hints of a smile appear on her face. You’d never seen any sort of positive emotion there before. At least not directed at you. 

“I understand,” you said with a nod of your head and you were certain that she wanted you to meet her in Kyungsoo’s kitchen in about as much time it took for you to get there from here.

 There was an urgency in your steps and while you moved toward your destination, the secluded hallways that led toward the west side of the palace, you felt the ever-present sensation of being followed that persisted in nearly every crook and corner of this place slowly fade from your mind.

It wasn't until you found yourself standing alone in that hallway in front of that heavy metal door that you hadn’t seen in such a long time, that you realized just how oppressive the cameras had been making you feel. 

There was nothing here. There were no eyes watching and no quiet strangers to give you glances and take notes and likely report on your odd behavior as soon as you left their sight. 

Ara was right. This place was perfect. You pushed at the door and found it just slightly ajar and when you slipped inside the stillness of that dark kitchen you could make out a shape that stood inside. She was small and easy to recognize.

“Don’t turn on the light,” she whispered from the shadows and half of her serious face was illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight that came through the skylight in the ceiling. 

“Ara, we have to make this quick. I think the prince may be in danger. I think it might be an emergency.”

With the freedom to speak, the words you had been holding on to so tightly came bursting from your chest and you heard the sound of your own panic on your voice. 

She did not immediately speak. Nor did the shadowed outline shape of her move.

“Ara, please, I...I don't know what to do. I thought that maybe...maybe you could get through to him. He—He trusts you, Ara.” 

The sounds of your heavy breathing floated around the quiet space and you lifted a hand over your mouth to try and quiet yourself; to calm this down some. Why wasn’t she speaking? Why wasn’t the jumping into action to help? How could she be so calm when something horrible was about to happen to him?

“What makes you believe he is in danger, Your Highness?”

When she finally spoke, her own voice was steady and very controlled. You heard absolute calm inside that voice and it was nearly hypnotizing in cadence. Your panic was much too strong of a force to be compelled.

“He...He said some things, that he was going to do something to stop the wedding and — we were arguing about the tape, and why I did that to him and then about May and — how much do you know about what has been happening?” 

The urgency inside of you made your words stumble their way out of your mouth. You sounded nowhere near as composed and clear as you wished you would. Perhaps this explanation of yours did not properly relay the urgency here. Perhaps she just didn't take you seriously and her stubborn inaction was making your heart race harder inside your chest. 

Had this been a mistake? Suddenly this side trip that you’d made to enlist her help was causing you to doubt yourself. Had you only wasted precious time in coming to her? Should you have just continued your search for the prince on your own? Perhaps you should have gone to the security house instead. Maybe Jun would be able to find him and stop him. 

“I know more than you know, Your Highness.” 

She knew. She already knew everything. You sighed in relief. At least you would not have to relay the entire events that led to this situation. This would save time. For once, you were thankful for the ever-present eye of the help in this house. The quiet witnesses to the disasters that the royal family inflicted on themselves and on one another. 

“Then you know what he is capable of, Ara, he says he doesn’t care what happens, that he will stop the wedding — he’s disappeared, why are you so calm when something awful might happen?”

Your volume was a high shout. This was maddening. You reached forward for her hand, for some glimpse that this person was alive and real and could actually hear and understand the urgency of the situation the prince was in. 

Your fingers grasped at the air in front of her; only brushing along the fabric of the sleeve of her palace uniform. 

“May I have your permission to speak bluntly, Your Highness?” 

She’d evaded your grasp and what kind of question was this? Someone’s life was in danger, and she was preoccupied with rules and formalities regarding the relationships between the help and the royal families? Did the woman not understand the meaning of the word emergency? Rather than argue, you quickly nodded your head and the quick up and down was just visible in the moonlight you both stood under.

“What makes you think he is the one in danger?” 

Her next question did not have your title attached and the sudden sharpening of her voice felt accentuated by its absence. It caught you off guard and your panic hitched somewhere inside of your chest. A temporary stutter in the urgency. 

Your mind spun and you looked into her eyes with a small shake of your head, not having imagined any other scenario in which he did not inflict this horror and tragedy upon himself. 

You hadn’t ever considered the possibility that someone else may become a casualty of this war. 

Impossible, right? You’d been so certain.

“Do you want to know what he picked up when he came home? I’ll tell you now. There’s nothing you could do to stop it anyway.

Insurance. 

Actual physical evidence against you. I had warned him not to trust you so easily and He was quite cross when I presented him with it. He always swore he would never use it; never even touch it. 

But now I know, My Lord is most grateful for my gift. And now he will use it to oppose the marriage.” 

With each word she spoke the oxygen in the room seemed to be sucked out and you were quite thankful for the crisp clean and perfectly restored kitchen countertops that you gripped to keep yourself upright and present in this conversation. Or was it a negotiation now? This conversation had taken a rapid shift and you felt like you just might drop to the floor if you didn't hold on tight.

“What...what are you talking about? I haven’t done a-anything.” 

Your own words felt feeble. You couldn’t even believe in them. You’d had so many sins against the man stacked up already. The many possibilities were flying by inside your head all you had to do was reach a hand out to grab one and that would be plenty. 

May’s face flew by and images of her smile, her laughter, her hand resting over a swelling belly where an innocent baby grew; oblivious to the horrors of the life it would soon be born into. 

“Did you know that it is illegal for a defiled woman to present herself as the bride of a Prince in line for the throne? You might not think it’s much, but if wielded correctly, it’s a powerful enough weapon to stop the wedding.”

Her words hit you hard and you had to take a step back and away from her. You felt the oven door at your back. It was cold and steel and brand new and it pulled your mind sharply at the shock of the temperature difference. 

This was a scenario you had never ever imagined. That he would invoke such an outdated law and worse, that he would stoop so low as to use your own love for him against you. Your head shook back and forth. Your disbelief was thick and heavy, taking over for the panic that had been so all-consuming.

“But...that doesn’t make sense. He was the one who...”

You heard the smallest puff of air from her; a single syllable chuckle. A laugh.

“I know, right? Imagine being thrown into prison just for sleeping with the man you were going to marry anyway.” 

Your mind was dizzy. The shallow breaths you managed did little to clear it. 

You had to look away from that splash of blue moonlight and from those eyes that in no way reflected the horrors you felt inside of you at her revelations. 

The stainless steel hood that reflected that light over the stove; the rows of pots and pans that hung from hooks from the ceiling and the rows of sharpened knives that stuck on to the wall, ready to carve and chop and slice and butcher. The pristine and lovely kitchen that surrounded you; cleaned up, repaired and completely untouched by his hands that were now elsewhere, gripping a new weapon. 

Would he treat you with the same care as his precious ingredients? Would he do it quickly? Would he chop off your head to put you out of your misery before serving you to his many esteemed guests for dinner? 

In a way, you’d done the same with him. Faking the drunkenness to sleep with him, just so you could search his home for that useless tape. You’d used his love against him too. 

But the idea that he would turn something once lovely and beautiful; your first time, your first love, the first time you trusted someone with yourself, that he would dare turn that into a public spectacle. 

You felt a sickness surge up inside of you with the dread and you caught the shine of the kitchen sink along the far wall behind where Ara stood smirking, taking note of its location in case you needed it quickly. 

“So to address your worries, Your Highness, no, I don't believe the prince, himself, is in any danger tonight. Although, you might want to prepare yourself for what is coming.”

Despite the impact of her words, the volume of them was fading. Despite the devastation that was growing inside of your gut, something else was also taking over. Something that accepted this as your fate. Something saw no way out. Something that caved and surrendered. 

It must have been relief. 

He would be okay. 

You would be ruined, but he would be okay. 

As she often did, Ara left you standing alone in that dark place without so much as a farewell and only when you were by yourself for a good ten minutes did you unclench your fists and let your hands drop uselessly to your side and you exhaled the deep breath that you had been holding inside of your lungs. 

It was as you stood alone in this kitchen that a thought dawned on you and you began to really question the kind of person you had become since you had arrived in this place. 

Everyone likes to believe they are the hero of their own story. Some people are so deluded into believing that they are the good one; they could never accept that they might actually be the villain; but you felt a cloudy, foggy, hazy feeling descending.

You’d always considered yourself to be the good one. 

You were good, right? Every move you had made in your life had been for the greater good, for your country, for your friend, for your family, for some end that would be righteous and just, but — 

But what if, what if all along you had been the bad one? What if this comeuppance that Prince Kyungsoo and his trusted Ara had hatched up was just the universe washing itself clean of all the vile, disgusting transgressions you had committed. 

What if you deserved what was coming to you?

You left the kitchen and you took your time with the journey through the palace, looking around carefully at the beauty of the ornately decorated hallways. You’d never quite appreciated anything in this place. 

You’d never let yourself quiet down enough to let any of it in, but really, this palace had some impressive works of art, some amazing architectural feats and was quite lovely. You had been surrounded by so much beauty and only now that you had forced down the nerves of the unknown future you held in this world, did you have enough clarity of mind to appreciate it. 

It was a shame it had taken you this long. 

Even here, right in front of your home, hung the most impressively lovely painting you had ever seen up close. It had flowers strewn across a table in some picturesque cottage in the country; roses and irises dumped out hastily and the details painted in each stem astounded. You’d always just walked by it, but now, you lightly ran your fingertips over the surface of the canvas. You could feel the peaks and planes of the dried oil paint that gave the work so much depth and realism. 

You struggled to pull yourself away from it and when you finally pried your hand down to reach for the doorknob to your front door there was a sound from behind you that startled you. 

You tried to turn, you tried to spin on your heels but there was something dark and heavy placed over your head; making you gasp and stealing your light completely. You were, all at once, thrust into complete, terrifying darkness as strong arms wrapped around your shoulders, squeezing and holding your arms down at your waist and a fabric bag of some kind was pulled tightly around your neck. The sensation of being suffocated; both by your overwhelming shock, and the literal small amount of air inside of this cover you were in.

Breathing was hard, but you inhaled as much as you could and you let out the loudest scream you could manage. It was muffled by heavy fabric and sounded loud inside your own ears. You tried again but were caught off guard when the floor left your feet and you were lifted and handled by whoever had placed the bag over your head. By whoever it was that had come for you.

If you believed you had reached your limits of panic before, you had absolutely no idea of what real panic felt like. Your entire body shook and trembled with it. It radiated through your chest and cascaded over your limbs and you knew...you knew...

You were done for. 

You were dead. 

There was no doubt now, this was it.

There had been so little in your life. You’d only just made your first real friend. You’d only just fallen in love and hadn’t really had a chance to embrace the pain of having your heart broken by him. 

You had never felt the sand between your toes at the ocean side. You’d never tasted cotton candy at a carnival. You’d never seen a midnight show. The unfairness of it all made you weep. What a shitty excuse for a life you had lived.

You had never held a baby; not in your whole life; not one. It was one stupid little daydream you liked to entertain; the rumored smell they had, the way they squeezed an offered finger and looked up into your eyes. So tiny and full of promise. 

You had the sensation of being carried and shoved through an open doorway and you felt the hard wood of a chair below you as you were roughly pushed into a seated position and there was a swish as the strong arms that had held you so tightly abruptly released their hold on you. You swung your arms out, trying to reach someone. Trying to hurt someone. Trying to fight whatever strong oaf had dared to put his hands on you so liberally. You were met with no one and you instead reached up for the black cloth bag that had closed our your light. 

To your astonishment, the person who had accosted you did not stop you from lifting the bag and you slowly pulled it up and over your head, peeking carefully through the blinding light that erupted in your field of vision. 

At first, you only saw feet. You recognized the view of your own living room and realized that the seat you had been placed in was from your own kitchen. 

Feet, connected to legs and he wore black slacks, a white dress shirt and he stood alone in your strangely decorated living room. Around you — balloons, streamers, confetti all over the floor and a huge banner hanging on the wall behind and there, on his face, the enormously victorious smile of Prince Baekhyun who giggled and laughed and pointed his fingers at the apparently humorous look of sheer horror and terror on your face.  

“Congratulations on your wedding!” He was shouting, jumping, and laughing loudly and your head was reeling as the shock from the trauma of this ill-timed event began to settle heavy inside your belly. 

You felt so dizzy. 

You needed out of this chair. You rose on shaking legs. 

Your hands were shaking too hard to be able to grip the kitchen table that you now stumbled beside, holding on as best you could, you made your way to the sink with a leap and the dizziness pulled everything from inside your stomach up and out of your mouth. You vomited everything into the stainless steel basin of the sink. Again and again. The small bits of dinner you’d had and red wine. 

Only when your retching quieted down did you have enough strength to swat away his hands that pounded on your back in some attempt to comfort your spasms. 

Only when you were done vomiting did you realize that you were sobbing. The words to rebuke him got lost in the ragged cries that erupted from your chest and wave after wave of tears flowed down your face. 

Baekhyun’s words were rushed. A combination of ‘Jesus-fucking-Christs’ and ‘It was only a joke’ and then many, many soft apologies when your crying refused to settle down with his attempt at an explanation for what he had just done to you in the name of some stupid idea he had for a bachelorette party with just the two of you in attendance.

It took too long to calm yourself and only when he sank down with you on your kitchen floor and wrapped both of his arms and legs around you in a full-body hug did you begin to feel like you hadn’t almost just died and maybe, just maybe, you would be okay again someday. 

His head was rested over your shoulder and when he felt the shuddering breathing begin to even out he lifted a cautious face to look into yours with as much worry inside of his eyes as you had ever seen directed at you. 

“If you cry this much you’ll be all puffy for the wedding tomorrow,” he whispered against your face and you slowly nodded your head as you willed your emotions to settle down enough to stop the hiccups that had erupted with the crying. 

“Here,” he declared after a moment of looking into your eyes, clearly having reached some conclusion on his own, “I’ll run you a bubble bath and you pick out which movie we’re going to watch first.” 

He was lifting himself from the floor and his hands pulled you into a standing position, but Baekhyun seemed reluctant to release you from his grip entirely. He merely guided you along through your own home until you reached the large sectional sofa that faced the television. 

In your lap, he dumped a pile of movies and you looked at the titles with a disconnected mind, noticing how each one was a romantic comedy with some sort of wedding theme. He brought a lot and you looked at each movie cover with hazy eyes, randomly deciding on one without much reasoning at all. Anyone of them would do. Something to fill up the silence of this home and maybe bring a laugh or two to lighten your down-in-the-pits-of-hell mood. Something to distract you. 

You trotted toward the sound of running water in your bathroom and handed him the movie box. Baekhyun had set out a pair of pajamas that you did not recognize and upon closer inspection, you noticed the wedding bells and hearts strewn all over them. ‘Bride to Be’ was embroidered on the seat of the pants and they were as ridiculous as you would imagine Baekhyun would have picked out for you to wear tonight; the night before your wedding that would probably never even happen. 

The pajamas took away some of the dignity that the bath had given back to you and when you emerged from the steamy bathroom you actually smiled to see Baekhyun sporting matching pajamas that proudly displayed ‘Maid of Honor’ in bright pink letters across his ass. 

He had ordered pizza. There were rows and rows of assorted cookies and sweets spread across your kitchen counter and much to your surprise, not a drop of alcohol to be found. Instead, you saw some juice boxes designed for children’s parties and even a few small containers of chocolate milk in an ice bucket at the end of the counter. 

You were aware of the time on the clock and when you grabbed a slice of something salty and fattening, pairing it with something chocolate and something sugary sweet, lamenting the fact that you’d only have a few hours of this before it would have to end and you’d be thrust back into your frightening and uncertain reality again. 

Baekhyun was starting the movie by the time you snuggled on the sofa next to the spot where he had set a stack of cookies and a container of chocolate milk. Apparently, he was having a cheat day as well. This was a party after all. It was your party. The tiny number of party guests did not bother you one bit. You had your friend here at least. You’d enjoy it with the knowledge that it might be the last time you would be this happy again in your lifetime. 

“It’s a shame that we can't watch two movies. I really wanted to watch The Proposal. Sandy Bullock and Ryan Reynolds…double swoon.” 

You watched the opening notes of the song that began the movie. You had selected something called 27 Dresses, although you hadn’t really selected with any method in mind. You should have just let him pick, with as little as you knew about movies. 

“We can watch both,” you said with a shrug and a bite of your pizza. It was hot and cheesy and saucy and just about the most delicious thing you had ever put in your mouth. “I do it all the time, just play it on double time and we will have enough time to watch both of them.” 

“Wait, is that a thing?” He asked suddenly and had lifted the remote control to press buttons to access the menu on the movie player. Soon enough, he found the spot to control playback speed and he began to giggle as the voices of the characters acting out their roles lifted in tone and took on a chipmunk-like sound. 

“You’ll get use to it. Let’s just watch it like this.” 

It took a few minutes, and a few silly impressions of serious emotional scenes acted out in high pitched double-time voices for him to become engrossed enough in the film to quiet down. 

After a while, snacks were abandoned and Baekhyun shifted on the sofa beside you, patting once on his lap, he produced a hairbrush from the bag at his feet that you’d recognized from the time you’d played dress up as a pair of nurses. You gave in and snuggled between his legs, giving him the back of your head where his fingers combed your hair gently and his brush dealt with the tangles of your wet hair. 

He whispered that it was going to be your last girl’s night as a single woman and the gentle touch of his hands through your hair felt too nice for you to correct him. Perhaps you’d break the news after the promised matching pedicures. He said you could pick the color and you were going to pick the raciest red he had in his bag. 

It was going well enough until the climax of the film when the romantic interest gave his emotional confession and you heard Baekhyun groaning beside you out of frustration. 

“Nope. Nope. I don't like this. See, I was okay until this point, but some things in life you can’t just fast forward through. Some things have to be slow and careful. I’m missing all the good shit like this.” He was complaining right out loud as he reached for the remote and slowed the playback down to normal speed again and he rewound the scene again to the start to pay closer attention to the big emotional moment. 

And it played again. Only this time, and boy was he right, this time you could see the unspoken body language acted out. You could see every nuance and every little touch that was so very important to this important love confession and there was a building and nagging thought that was growing and bulging in the back of your mind. 

“See. See that right there? That can't be rushed. You have to slow it down and feel it. Listen to all of the sounds around. Listen to the way he’s breathing, God. He’s in love with her and there’s something so delicate about that.” 

A feeling outside of the movie was nagging you. 

Slow it down.

You can't just fast forward through.

Something related to what he was saying, but outside of Byun Baekhyun and this bachelorette party and the movie you were both sitting in front of and the cookie crumbs that were scattered all over his legs and the carpet below his feet. 

Baekhyun had said it himself. Some things cannot be rushed. Sometimes you have to slow it down and listen to the sounds around. 

Shit. Shit.

You had just fast-forwarded through it, hadn’t you? 

He wasn’t even aware of what a mind-blowingly profound thing he had just said to you, and every cell inside your body prickled and came alive. You felt a fire inside of you and you leaped up out of your seat and rushed to your bathroom, beyond the bathroom into the closet, to the spot where you had left the cell phone he had given you that sat there inside of your walk-in closet. Your hiding spot was invisible unless you knew exactly where to look.

Your heart was pounding noisily in your eardrums. 

“Are you going to be sick again?” You heard him shouting from the living room. “Shit, you aren’t pregnant, are you?” He added and his voice grew louder as he followed you through the bathroom to stand behind where you now stood inside of your closet holding on to your phone.

You were swiping furiously over the screen, reaching the log-in screen for your cloud storage. The only place where you had backed up the video from that tiny stolen cassette tape that had lived inside of Kyungsoo’s childhood teddy bear for a decade. 

The video was hidden behind several layers of passwords, you logged in to each hidden and well-secured folder to find the file and you hastily pressed play, making sure to turn the volume up to full blast as you scrolled to the moment on the tape that you had in your foolish haste, watched only at double and triple the normal playback speed without even considering what might be happening off-camera. Without even thinking about the sounds the camera might have picked up.

You found the moment when the change happened.

You found the spot in history when sweet little Prince Kyungsoo had gone from a loved, carefree, happy child to a fractured, broken shell of a human and you carefully dragged your finger backward, to the hours right before. When you had been sure you’d seen the camera still and motionless and laying on its side somewhere, with only the view of feet on screen. 

“What...what the hell is that?” Baekhyun was watching over your shoulder and you waved a hand in his direction, shushing loudly with your mouth as you listened to the tiny speakers of your phone as close as you could. 

The video played and showed two sets of feet. One a man in black leather shoes, one a woman in expensive heels, and when you listened closely enough you could hear a clear and profound conversation. You heard the words there, the subject of their conversation was more significant than anything else in the world. 

This was it. 

This was it.

Baekhyun’s hands moved. Something was sparked inside of him when he heard the words they discussed. He gripped at the phone and roughly grabbed it out of your hands and he pressed on a symbol in the corner of the screen as he dragged you by the hand in a rush, from within the depths of your closet back to the living room where the tiny video was now being cast directly onto the enormous tv of your living room as clear as day. 

Baekhyun then reached for the volume remote and turned it up with his hand sat over his mouth and his eyes were wide, he watched with you as a conversation was had about the very recent murder of the Queen, Queen Do, Prince Do Kyungsoo’s mother and the wife of King Lee, by the two individuals who had been responsible for her death. 

The brakes lines had been cut, just as She had ordered him to do. He’d done well. He would be handsomely rewarded for his role once she was married to the king. One she had taken the throne for her sons.

They were both supposed to die in the accident, but this might be even better, She said. They were both supposed to die, but only the queen died. Only Queen Do was crushed. 

The young Prince Kyungsoo, her only son, her only child, would take the blame, and the coverup to save the Prince would prevent a thorough investigation.  

They’d never be caught this way. And the Prince would do anything for them; he’d even give up his right to the throne; even finally agree to take a bride from another nation. A union of such that would require him to abdicate. The prince would agree to anything they wanted if he believed he was a murderer. 

The entirety of the conversation happened off-camera with only their shoes visible until the camera was moved by the owner of a third set of shoes that came into view. A third person had arrived, and the highly incriminating conversation that had just taken place had ceased upon his arrival. Yet as the camera moved, as the teddy bear was picked up, there was the smallest split-second pan as the camera flashed up, to show as clear as day, the faces of the co-conspirators to the queen’s murder. 

Baekhyun gasped out loud and reached for the phone, pausing the playback, he pulled the video progress bar back slowly and right there on the screen of this tv was the face of Queen Hong, and the evidence that she had been the person to order the murder of the Late Queen Do, Kyungsoo’s mother. He was framed. He was a victim. 

It had been a murder plot that had been a decade in the making. And you, you were part of it. Your union with him was designed to steal his rightful place as an heir to his throne. They had done this to him. She had killed his mother, made him believe he was to blame and taken his throne from him. 

That sweet little boy. This monster had destroyed him, and for what? So her two sons could have some more power? So she could become the queen?

Kyungsoo had been right, this marriage could not happen. Although he had so much to learn about the real reasons why. 

Baekhyun again resumed the video, unable to look away from the shock of what he had just learned and you saw at the teddy bear was handed to her. To a younger, less plastic, Lady Hong and you felt sick to hear the wicked laugh that echoed over the sound of her heels pounding on the marble flooring. “I want to be the one to tell him his mother is dead,” she said. 

You had to stop it. You couldn’t stomach any more of this. Baekhyun had a similar reaction and looked down at the phone, pressing something to stop the playback of the video on the big screen. 

He was silent, clearly processing the bombshell that had just fallen into both of your laps. It was too much for you, and you had already fallen back onto the sofa, too overwhelmed stand anymore, you felt the shift of his weight as he did the same and sat down beside you with his focus far ahead of himself; his eyes wide and staring at nothing, his mouth agape, and his hands lifeless in his lap, your blackened phone still sitting inside of his hand. 

“Where did you get this and has anyone else seen it?”

His question was quiet and so uncharacteristically serious in delivery and the old habits of mistrust and caution made your hackles raise as you let doubt coat your tongue and make your mouth close up. 

You heard a groan from him and his hands raised up to cover his face and all at once, everything about him changed and he was overcome. You heard a soft sound from behind his hands and he was trembling. He was shaking and you saw drops of wetness falling freely down his cheeks and something deep inside of him broke.

Baekhyun was crying. He was crying hard and very suddenly he sniffled his nose hard, fighting the emotion, he ran a rough hand over his face, drying some of the wetness there. This was grief. It was all-consuming. You felt your own face wet. You felt powerless against such a kind of soul-crushing pain. 

“He...He—” He tried to get the words out through the heavy emotion that had taken control. “He changed so much. He was my friend. He was my brother, once and they...they just fucking—

You sat motionless and useless, still too overcome to do anything at all. Still, too shell shocked to move. 

Baekhyun stood up and his face was bright red as he inhaled a deep breath; his jaw clenched tight. His eyes changed and darkened. You saw the anger coursing through his body in waves and he was cursing. He was screaming out loud and he was raging within himself, and outside too. He grabbed at random bits of things; pillows, trash from the table, throwing objects with the rage and the anger that had taken ahold of him. Bits of the broken and the scattered remains of items, things, stuff. Everything and anything that could be thrown; that could be broken, but none of the destruction touched that anger. None of it could satiate the madness. Nothing broken could match the pain. It was simply too much for one body to withstand.

“I always thought both of them died that day. And this is why. They killed him when they killed her. They killed his mom. They killed her and made him think...made him think—

They did the same to me. They did it to him just like they did it to me.” 

It was too much for him. He was one person alone. You moved and you wrapped your arms around him and he fought against your arms, he pushed against your hold on him, but still, you did not let up. Still, you squeezed around him as tightly as you could squeeze and you held him tight; through the sobbing and through the sounds of pain that escaped his lips, you held on and you absolutely refused to budge until you felt the change. His arms quit their movements. His legs and his torso and his tension and his anger quit and it all gave up. 

You held on to your friend until you felt the softening of his strong muscles as he gave up and gave in to you. And when he collapsed onto the floor in your living room you went down with him, holding on tight until there was simply no more of that anger and destruction with which he could fight you. Until he did not want to fight it anymore, and you felt his arms move around your waist. He buried his head in your neck and he accepted the comfort you offered. You accepted his warmth as well. 

When he had gone quiet, you finally opened your mouth to speak. And you began at the beginning. You began with May and her concealed love affair with Sehun. You told him of the rumors; the queen had been murdered. And without any thoughts otherwise, May believed, as many others did, that Kyungsoo had been the murderer. May had tried to protect you from him. May tried to get you to leave this place. May was caught by Kyungsoo and the evidence in your mind against him piled up. Your doubts and insecurities piled up. 

Of course, Baekhyun knew of his role in deceiving Kyungsoo to save May. Baekhyun knew that Kyungsoo would shoulder the blame for May’s demise. Only now did he realize just how hard Kyungsoo must have taken the news of May’s death. Only now did Baekhyun realize the damage that must have done to his brother by the lie.

You told Baekhyun of your tricks and your lies to search Kyungsoo’s home for this tape. You told him of the unforgivable things you had done. You told him everything. 

“We have to show him this tape.” Baekhyun’s convictions matched your own and you nodded in agreement; an unspoken covenant forming between the two of you and he was on his feet again, copying, editing, saving multiple copies of the evidential and important parts of the video. He sent it to himself in what looked like multiple places and you let him. You trusted him. He was in this with you. 

There was a moment, after the progress bars and the sending and the saving and it was a moment of heavy silence. It was a tranquility that sat down on this sofa between the both of you and you felt the warmth of his hand as he grabbed yours and held on tightly to you.

“We might have just become the most dangerous people in this entire kingdom,” he said with a sad smile on his face and you responded in kind. You were completely unsure and terrified of the future, and yet knowing you weren’t in this alone gave you an incredible strength that you had never felt inside of you before. 

The shared moment was interrupted by a loud sound. A rapid and angry pounding on your front door. A sound designed to call to action. You both leaped up and Baekhyun scrambled to turn off the tv. He scrambled to clear out both phones of any traces of illicit activity and incriminating videos and you rushed to the door, half terrified that you’d find palace security there ready to send you both to the gallows. 

The knocking sounded out again. It was urgent-sounding. It sent a chill of fear through you and you turned your doorknob and pulled it open to face the latest test of your fortitude. 

Ara. 

It was Ara. Not royal guards, or palace police. It was just Ara. 

You had no time for relief because something was wrong. 

She was trembling and she was crying and she was holding something in her hands. You quickly pulled her by the arm inside of your home and closed the door behind her.

“Y-Your Highness, I...I think you might have been right — something is wrong. Something is wrong with him.” 

Inside her hands, she held a small plastic bag that contained a folded up scrap of fabric. On that fabric, you saw old stains. Old bloodstains. You saw a disk laid on top with a hand-written date on it and what appeared to be a timestamp. The date you first slept with Do Kyungsoo and the exact time you would have been exiting his home so early in the morning. It took you two seconds to realize what this was. This was his insurance. This was the evidence to destroy you and he didn't have it with him anymore. 

“H-He gave this back to me. He said he couldn't do it. After all you had done to him he still said he couldn’t. He ordered me to return it to you.” Her head was shaking in disbelief. 

You felt the cold of the room flooding over your face as your skin blanched. 

You understood at once the reason for her fear. 

“Ara, where is the prince?” Baekhyun was speaking to her now. His voice was direct and well-controlled and you looked at his profile with a dream-like haze taking over your vision. 

She did not respond and Baekhyun reached up to grip the smaller girl’s arms. He shook her; waking her back up. Bringing her back into her body enough to answer his question. 

“I-I...don’t know. He—”

Her words came too slow. You felt the same sense of urgency Baekhyun betrayed and you wanted to shout. You wanted to shove her out of the way and run out of your home to find him. 

“Where is he, Ara?” Baekhyun shouted louder and the girl’s face screwed together in pain. 

“He k-kissed me. He thanked me for loving him all this time, and he—he said he was sorry he could never give me anything back. And then he just left. I don't know where he went. I don't know where he went.” 

She was crying openly and Baekhyun turned to face you with his eyes wide and his instructions clear and concise. 

“Find him. Search the kitchen and check the rooftop. I’m going to check the gardens and the garage. Text me the instant you find him.”

“Ara,” Baekhyun gripped the girl’s arms tightly and lowered his head down to look into her eyes. “Ara, I need you to come with me and help me find him, can you do that for me?” 

She was nodding in earnest when you brushed past them both with your shoes on and your phone in your hand and you ran as fast as you could. You ran until your muscles complained and your lungs burned and you ran with direction and with purpose. 

You would find him. 

You would never be able to live with yourself if you failed him. 

You had to find him.

The Price of Privilege [M]: - part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 , part 9 , part 10 , part 11, part 12 , part 13 , part 14, part 15

[lejoursdor]

I feel so fucking violated.

For the last few weeks my landlord has been harassing me - passive aggressively texting me about things that could and should be taken care of after a single conversation but instead were drawn out through multiple, long, inappropriate (not to mention rude) texts at ALL hours of the day (including 3 different instances between 2-4 AM). I have had to put my phone on DND just so I could get some sleep/peace of mind at night because I have been having sleeping problems for MONTHS due to my autoimmune disease/fibromyalgia and most recently good ol’ fashion insomnia. 

I thought this morning the whole situation was finally over and that I could finally move on and focus on centering my self and nothing else today. I was unexpectedly forced to go off my depression/anxiety meds due to issues with my insurance and have been working HARD for the last month to monitor and work through the side effects that stopping that kind of medication can cause. Luckily, I had started back on birth control a month or so prior so my hormones were already in the process of getting regulated so it hasn’t been THAT bad. I only had maybe 2 days where things were scary/alarming. But otherwise it has been okay considering. A lot of bursting into tears and taking much longer to bounce back from negativity entering my life (AKA: my landlord) but I’ve been praying no sort of suicidal tendencies/ideations spring up but so far okay but I’m still on high alert just in case.

So since this drama was seemingly over and she would have literally NO REASON to contact me, at least for the day - I decided I would make today a ME day. To try to get me back on track as much as possible. I went to the pharmacy to try to straighten out some stuff with my meds but there was a setback and it’s gonna be a little bit trickier for me to get back on my anxiety/depression meds than previously thought. But I wasn’t feeling defeated so I switched gears and chose to decompress and get all the bad energy out. Maybe after 30 mins of leaving my place, I come back from the pharmacy to check my phone and i have two texts from her about the electricity temporarily being turned off & some other unimportant shit. Quickly texted that I wasn't home yada yada didn’t care byeeee. 

Shortly after I started to drive around aimlessly and listen to music. I drove through my high school best friend’s old neighborhood, by her old house and down the street to the park we used to always go to. I parked and sat there in my car for maybe 45 minutes. Just thinking of what my life has been for the last 15 years since I first went to that park. That no matter how many years have past, I still feel everything from back then, I still feel her. That I will always love and miss who she was in that snapshot in time even though I know she is no longer that person, without even having to know who she is now. That this void that she left can never be filled again, not even by her because that person, the person that I formed quite possibly the closest bond I’ve ever made - is gone. She’s so gone, she may as well have died. It happens and is a part of life and I’ve long since accepted it but that doesn't mean it doesn’t still break my heart. 

After the park I made my way to the city where my mother grew up and unintentionally ended up in the neighborhood of my grandmother’s old house. Maybe I wasn’t cognizant of what I was doing in the moment but maybe somewhere in the back of my mind I purposely led myself there. As soon as I saw the sign for Kelley Ave. i immedietely started tearing up and I just needed to see the house. Even if it doesn’t look the same, even if someone else lives there now. I drove by and it set off a bunch of emotions at once. Every couple of years I hit this point where i really miss her. The last time it was like this was my 25th birthday that I ended up spending alone. On my way home it was like a dam had burst and I couldn’t stop crying. I got home and decided I would take the rest of the afternoon to go for a walk, focus on getting through my emotions in peace. I walked to a park not too far. I ended up laying down, listening to music and bawling my eyes out. I started running all these memories of her through my mind. I wouldn’t say I came to the realization but in reflecting on the last 15 years it’s become glaringly apparent that the only safe space I’ve ever had was with her, in that house. Not the one I grew up in and definitely not where I am now. I kept trying to imagine what it would be like for 31 year old me to be able to show up at her house, walk through the door, into her kitchen, straight towards the sun soaked living room where she would be sitting in front of the glass coffee table like she always was. She’d probably be writing on napkins in Japanese, with the TV on, not watching what was on. I would sit down next to her and hug her and she would hug me back and tap my shoulder and say “Hi Chantel.” like she used to, in her strong accent, with her warm smile. And we would sit next to each other in comfortable silence like we always did and I would watch her as she scrawled her native language on leftover McDonald’s napkins. My grandmother was and still is the only family member of mine that I was ever allowed to be myself in her presence. Maybe it was a cultural thing, it just never crossed her mind that I needed to change/fit a particular mold because it wasn’t an idealogy she was familiar with, unlike my ant’s, parents, uncle’s etc. We had a great relationship, I was her first grandchild and I know that had a lot to do with it. I knew her relationship with my mom and my ant’s/uncle’s were more complicated, so not everyone has the same feelings about her as I do. But I was her favorite and she was mine and it is the only time I have ever been anyone’s favorite. She died when I was 14, she’s been gone for basically half my life now but I still would give anything to see her now and I don’t think I will ever get used to her being gone, no matter how long. All I want is to be next to her, we don’t even need to talk, I just want her to be able to be here now. I miss her so much, all I want is the chance to be with her again...

After an hour or so I walked back and started to feel a little better. Maybe not better but felt like I was able to let a lot out. All I wanted to do was go home, wind down and salvage the rest of the day and indulge in much needed self care. Where I currently stay, I have my own separate entrance attached to the main house but in order to get to my entrance I have to pass by the front of the house which currently has one of those doorbell’s with a camera attached that alerts people on their phone when there is any movement. I unlock my door and get inside. I literally put my keys, phone etc down and maybe 5 seconds pass since I’ve gotten inside and a text pops up from my landlord. 

“Nothing like fresh air for the soul! Hope your feeling better. I have good and bad days too!” 

I think this is the only moment I've ever wanted to murder someone.

I just came back from spending two hours mourning my dead grandmother, after a day filled with repressed emotions coming to the surface due to an awful few weeks (mostly due to my landlord) and I can't even come home with the expectation that I wouldn’t be bothered by her for the rest of the night. 

Today was just not the day. 

Not the time, place or her business. 

I feel like I have no peace anymore, the little I was able to grasp on to.

She has stolen it from me with her unchecked neurosis, constantly invading common boundaries. 

I’m at my wits end, truly. And I’m not sure what to do.

AND GODDAMN. I CAN’T EVEN FINISH THIS FUCKING POST WITHOUT MY PHONE NOTIFYING ME I’VE GOTTEN A TEXT FROM HER.

GTHGTYYJ$%$%$$#$#!@@@@!!!

(Insert the dog surrounded by fire “I’m fine” meme) 

Singing off with whatever’s left of my sanity.

xx. 

[thiswasinevitableid]

could I suggest 2 or 3 for the OT4? (Rating up to you, either would be lovely!)

I went with the number that was “Moonlight” and kept it SFW. Hope you enjoy!

The Greenbank Lighthouse is a compromise. A safety necessity for ships coming to the nearby harbor, but also built on one of the few patches of land home to a rare, environmentally crucial starfish, it became the domain of the park system with the caveat that rangers would be the ones stuck manning the lonely outpost for months at a time while also monitoring marine health.

Duck never minded his months on the job. He liked the peace and quiet, and they even let him bring his cat as a mouser. 

And that was before Mothman hit the lighthouse.

Contrary to Duck’s assumption, this was not due to it being a gigantic light. Instead, the harried cryptid, who introduced himself as Indrid, and been knocked sideways in an oncoming storm while trying to warn a large shipping vessel of a likely wreck. Against all odds, Duck managed to get a message through to the captain and helped guide the ship to shore. 

Indrid, wing damaged from the collision, thanked Duck for his help and insisted he’d be fine on his own. Duck simply pointed to his bed and told him to lay down so he didn’t have to fish his dead ass out of the water come morning. 

Morning brought a gangly, pale haired man with an odd smile padding around his kitchen. Indrid explained he kept his mothman form concealed via an enchanted pair of red glasses, asked if he could stay a day more and also did Duck happen to have any sugar? 

Duck can never pinpoint exactly when it happened, but somewhere between that breakfast and requesting a larger bed for the lighthouse, they fell madly in love. Indrid was awkward and otherworldly, Duck easy going and (in his eyes) pretty damn normal. But he could talk to Indrid for hours, felt connected to him by a thousand little threads that tugged at his heart whenever the other man left. Indrid, who found Duck fascinating and kind, pointed out that the obvious solution was for him to stick around. 

Which is why he is drawing at the table as Duck finishes up dishes, the sea and sky pleasantly calm, all drenched in moonlight. 

“Our swimmer is here again.” Indrid glances out the window, setting his pen down. 

“You sure it ain’t dangerous?” Duck lays the dish rag aside to join him.

“Positive. In fact, I think I know who it is. It’s Barclay,  one of the cooks and Amnesty Lodge. And before you ask, I believe he is closer to what human mythos calls a selkie than a mermaid.”

“...Huh.” Duck peers out the window, watches the shape swim in the water, “Guessin’ he comes here to swim cause it’s protected.”

“He also knows you and I currently reside here. And he knows my true form, so he knows you will not panic in the face of a strange creature, nor turn him in.”

“Course not, he’s a nice guy, or he seems to be the few times I met him. And to be fair, I did kinda panic when you showed up.”

“I made a rather dramatic entrance. And broke a window.”

“Can break my windows any day, sugar.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Tryin to be smooth.” Duck kisses his cheek, follows his gaze down to the water, “somethin’s botherin’ you, ain’t it.”

“I know him in more than the passing friendship we three have, Duck.” Indrid says softly.

“You dated?”

“In a way. We were two monsters, lost and wandering the country. It was nice to be with someone who remembered home as I did. I, I am sorry, I should not-”

“Hey” Duck cups his cheek, “you been on Earth, what, a century? I wasn’t assumin you were celibate. Woulda been surprised if no one saw how amazin you were in all that time.”

“He is a good man. And selkies...they are not solitary back home, they come from large families, often have lovers or partners. He is all alone down there. I...I suppose it makes me a little sad is all. 

“You want to invite him up?”

“No. I suspect he is enjoying his swim, even if it is lonely. I was merely running a train of thought off it’s track.” He turns, smiles, “would you like me to keep you company tonight?”

Duck kisses him once, “Of course, sugar.”

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

Duck doesn’t know who he’s expecting to knock on his door, but it sure as hell isn’t a guy who looks like he just walked out of the X-Files. 

“Mr. Newton? I’m special Agent Stern, with the Department of Unexplained Phenomena at The FBI. May I come in?” The voice is polite, and not the least bit gruff. 

He really wants to say no, terror snaking around his spine that the man might be here for Indrid. 

“Uh, it’s, uh, a real mess in here. Is, uh, is there somethin you need?”

“I am investigating a string of disappearances on this coastline. It may strike you as strange, but I believe they are being caused by an unknown, aquatic animal.”

“Like a sea monster?”

‘More like a mermaid.”

“Uhhhhhhhh.”

“Have you seen anything unusual in your time out here?” Bright blue eyes take on a sharp glint. 

“No, uh, fuck, uh, I, um, there ain’t-”

“Duck? You’re getting a message from shore.” Indrid stands behind him, “It sounds urgent.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to detain you. Here, this is my card. If you see anything you think could help my case, please don’t hesitate to contact-”

The “me” is cut off by Duck slamming the door. 

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

Indrid is on shore for a grocery run and some time to himself, trying to figure out how many of Barclay’s take-out options he can reasonably get back to the house. 

“Caramel Apple Pie is right up your alley.” Barclay smiles at him, auburn hair tied up in it’s usual bun, beard neatly trimmed, “ and I got your usual drink started. Be up in a sec.”

“Thank you.” He settles in his usual table, takes out his sketchpad. As he draws, the bell above the door dings. 

“Morning, Agent Stern.”

“Barclay, please, Joseph is fine.” The man looks decidedly out of place in his suit amongst the sweatshirts and knit sweaters, “and I think I’ll be bold today and have that spiced mocha.”

“You got it. I swear, any other guy I know would be making people call him agent left and right.”

“I’m unpopular enough as it is.” Stern mutters, “And the half of this town that doesn’t think I’m a nosy government stooge things I’m delusional.”

“I don’t think you're either of those things, Joseph.” Barclay says softly, and Indrid just glimpses his hand resting atop the agent’s squeezing it once. Then he turns away, blushing, and hurries back to the kitchen. Joseph watches him go with a longing sharp enough to cut glass. 

Indrid will have some very interesting news for Duck when he gets back to the island. 

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

The moonlight is bright again, and Barclay is once again swimming near the lighthouse. In the cool night air, Duck and Indrid watch him from the beach. 

“He look more, uh, acrobatic to you?”

“He does.” Indrid sips his tea.

“Should we warn him or somethin? What if he’s what Stern’s chasin’?”

“I think he is well-aware of Agent Stern’s search.”

“But he’s-”

“Pursuing him, yes. I was worried at first but now...now I do not see many catastrophic futures for them.”

“Still seems buckwild to me.”

Indrid purses his lips in thought, “were you in Barclay’s position and I in Stern’s, would you stay away from me.”

“I’d try.” Duck thinks, then huffs out a little laugh, “I’d fuckin fail, but I’d try.”

Indrid rests his head on his shoulder, “Exactly.”

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

“What the fu-”

“We need to go down to the shoreline now.” Indrid is already running down the staircase, and Duck rolls groggily out of bed to join him. When they hit the moonlit shore, two figures are collapsed on the ground, one moving and the other not. 

“Barclay?” 

The man, his body that of a harbor seal from the waist down, looks up, “Oh thank fuck, it’s, it’s Joe, he’s-”

“Alive, but barely. Something nearly drowned him.” Indrid slips off his glasses, scooping the agent into his arms as Duck helps a now fully human Barclay to his feet. 

“Reef serpent; it must have been what he investigating, even if he didn’t know it. He fired on it when it started attacking his boat.” Barclay points to the scattered remains of a small motorboat, “I got him away from ithe serpent when it was trashing it.” 

“Hold up, there’s a fuckin sea monster swimmin around my house?”

“Not for long.” Barclay growls. 

“Easy, buddy, easy, you got fuck-all in terms of protection, and unless sea monsters are smaller than I’m thinkin’, even sealed-out you’re gonna have problems.”

Barclay nods. Then both he and Duck bolt for the lighthouse as a shout of alarm rings out. When they reach the second level, Stern is on one side of the room, Indrid on the other. The agent is awake, heartbeat even visible from where they stand. 

“In my defense, he only awoke while I was carrying him in two percent of the futures.”

“What the hell, what the hell, what the hell?” Stern tries to stand more confidently, then immediately loses his balance, hitting the floor. 

“Hey, Joe, it’s okay, you’re safe.” Barclay is to him immediately. 

“Moth, mothman is supposed to be a midwestern to southern cryptid, you are in swimtrunks and a fur coat in the dead of night, and I have no idea where I am. And that’s before we get to the fact that something bit my boat in half.”

“One of those is easy; you’re in the lighthouse. And we oughta get you one more level up so I can check that gash on your head.”

Stern touches his forehead, notes the blood, “Shit.”

“Probably hit your head on rock or got dragged on somethin when the, uh, the, storm, no, fuck, the-”

“As for your other question, the midwest and south posed some issues for me, as you no doubt know. Then, of course, I fell in love.” Indrid retrieves his glasses putting them on as he loops an arm around Duck. 

“.......Okay, right. Makes perfect sense.” Stern says in a voice that suggests the opposite, runs his fingers through his tangled hair. 

“As for the rest, I think it is Barclay’s choice to determine how much he shares. I request that it we do it near a heater or the fireplace, both because it will help you both warm up, and also because I am getting very cold.”

They opt for the heaters, Stern still looking very pale and messy. Duck helps Barclay get his wounds cleaned, tries not to stare when Stern removes his shirt to reveal an honest to god, cut body (Barclay makes no such attempt).

“I foresee it being best if you rest for the time being, Joseph.” Indrid produces a pillow and blanket from a cupboard.

“But I still have questions; the monster, you being here, the swimsuit-”

“Later, babe. We’ll talk about it later, okay?” Barclay kisses his forehead and Duck watches the agent relax. 

“Okay. Tomorrow?” 

Another kiss, “Yep, tomorrow.”

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

The sea monster proves to be less of an issue than Duck anticipated. Mama, owner of Amnesty Lodge, has clearly dealt with such creatures before. She is also terrifyingly good with a harpoon gun. 

So it’s without fear that he piloted to shore to pick up some food and stop by the little library in town to look for movies to rent. 

“I recommend “Beast from 20,000 Fathoms’ over ‘Reptilicus,’ though they’d be a great double feature.” 

Stern smiles when Duck turns, and he realizes it’s the first time he’s seen the man in something other than a suit. The sweater, which he’s pretty sure belongs to Barclay, and jeans seem unfairly well fitting. 

He’s just about to shake the thought from his head when he notices Stern giving him the same look of appraisal.

“Have you been working out?” Stern smiles again, but Duck spots the nervous energy beneath it, as if the agent is kicking himself for the cheesy line. 

“Yeah, ever since the monster incident, figured it didn’t hurt t be a little tougher. Found some body weight exercises and whatnot.”

“It shows in your arms. Aha, there it is.” He pulls a box set of The Great British Baking Show fro the shelf, “Barclay wanted me to check to see if they had it. The internet at the lodge is not the best for streaming things.”

“If, uh, if you ever want, you two could come over for a movie night or somethin.”

It could be the lights, but Stern seems to blush, “That could be very fun.”

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

“Sunning yourself in broad daylight? Someone has gotten bold.” Indrid climbs onto the rock where Barclay, in his half and half for, is laid out on his belly. 

“This from the guy who let an UP agent see him.” Barclay flicks his tail.

“I told you, it was an unlikely future. Besides, he took it well. Eventually.”

“True. God, Indrid, is this what it’s like for you with Duck? Having a human who isn’t freaked out by, y’know.” He points to his tail. 

“Duck found my true form alarming for the first few times, but yes. I am glad you have found someone who cares for you in such a way.”

“He’s even careful about my coat, even though I told him the whole bit about hiding it to force marriage is a myth.” Barclay smiles, flicks his tail, “agh, damn flies. Make my tail itchy.”

“Allow me.” Indrid draws his fingers down the smooth, soft fur, “better?”

“Uh huh, damn, that’s the spot, fuck, please don’t stop.” 

“Hmmmmmm, very well, but only if you bring a batch of those caramel cupcakes the next time you come. And before you try to deny it, I see you admit you have a waterproof carrier in the future.”

“I wanted to--oh shit yeah, breaking out the claws--to share some scones I made with some mermaids back when I lived in Puget Sound! But you got a deal; next time, I’ll bring you something sweet.”

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

“Sometimes I forget the general lack of doors here.”

“Fuck!” Duck yanks his hand out of his boxers, sitting up in bed, “sorry, thought you’d be home later.”

“It got colder faster than I anticipated. Apologies.”

“S’okay.”

“No need to stop on my account, though I can excuse myself if you’d prefer privacy.” Indrid stops dead, then tilts his head with a grin, ‘my my, such fantasies my love.”

“C’mon, no fair usin’ what I might say in the future to know what I was imaginin’.” Ducks cheeks burn brighter than the lamp above them. 

“Myself and Joseph at the same time? Quite an enticing image.”

“I’m sorry I-wait, what?”

“Duck, I am not upset in the slightest that you find him appealing. I do as well. And the last few times we’ve had them over, I’ve found myself glummer and glummer each time they leave.”

“Do you think they’d be, uh, into it?”

Indrid shuts his eyes, opens them with a grin, “Well, my love, I have some very good news.”

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

The conversation between the four goes well. 

The night they have decided to act on it, however, is going poorly 

First, the moonlight has been swallowed up by stormclouds, wind rattling the windows and Duck having to man the radio for a full weather report. 

“Well, looks like y’all might be here a few days; storms supposed to last through Tuesday. Good thing ‘Drid told me to grab even more emergency stores than regular.”

More awkwardly, none of them have made a move to start things off. Even Indrid, who’s foresight lends him a degree of confidence, has turned shy. 

Not that Duck isn’t having fun; they made their proposition based on the fact they liked the other men as friends as well as wanting to drag them into the nearest bed. 

And to top it all off, a fuse goes on the middle level  and Duck is currently trying to get the damn thing replaced, Stern helpfully holding the flashlight.  

“There, think that’s got it. Barclay, it on?” He calls up through the ceiling.

“Yep!”

“Thank fuck. Candles and lamps in a lighthouse are romantic, but those stairs can be fuckin murder in bad light.” He shuts the fuse box, turns to find Joe very, very close.

“Duck?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I, um, kiss you?”

“Thought you’d never fuckin’ ask.” Duck leans in, laughs as Joe pushes him against the wall, kissing him carefully even as his hands roam up and down his body. 

“Lord, I am going to enjoy this” He squeezes Duck’s ass, “it is fucking perfect.”

“Heh, what happened to those government employee manners?”

 “You’re one to talk, country boy.” Joe smirks as Duck’s fingers yank his belt open, moans as his hand dips down.

There’s a crash above them, and in a few moments of awkward fumbling up the stairs, they find Barclay pinned, face down, to the table. 

“He was preventing me from getting whipped cream.” Indrid says matter-of-factly,  grin luminous in the dark as he kneads Barclay’s ass with one hand and tugs his hair with another. 

“Seems you’ve met your match, big guy.” Joe walks over to them, brings his hand lightly down on Barclay’s ass, “pity you aren’t in your other form. I made him howl just form finding the right spot on his tail.”

“Intriguing.” Indrid purrs, offering him a kiss in reward for the information, “there will be time for that later, when we can all be in the water. For now” he beckons Duck to join them, “I think adjourning to the bed may be best.” He offers Duck his arm and as the four make their way to a more comfortable spot a sliver of moonlight, no bigger than a smile in the dark, slips in through the window

[shawtygonemad]

What Is This Feeling: Chapter 2

Fem!9th Doctor x Male!Rose Tyler

WITF Masterlist

Back in the TARDIS, the Doctor was frowning at the screen. This was not good. The signal was getting stronger, meaning the plastics were as well. Good thing the Doctor made a portable device to track down the signal. The Gallifreyan stepped out of the blue box and was on her way.

She was lead towards a housing complex. The signal was very strong here. The Doctor was about to approach the plastic bin when a girl popped out of it. The girl walked over to the yellow buggie and got inside. She was definitely plastic. The Doctor was about to approach the plastic when Ross stepped out of the house. He started to walk towards the yellow buggie. The Doctor quickly hid out of sight. This boy is extremely danger prone. This handsome pink and yellow human seemed to need her help constantly.

"Handsome?" She quietly questioned herself. When did she start to think of him as attractive?

The buggie drove by her. A growl rumbled in her throat. Her distraction let the plastic get away, and with Ross! The plastic tracker was out in a matter of seconds. She quickly followed the signal again.

The Time Lord soon found the buggie once more. It was parked outside the little café she left the TARDIS behind earlier. She put the tracker away, and stepped inside. Casually looking around she finally spotted Ross sitting at a table with the plastic girl across from him. The Doctor quickly grabbed an unopened bottle of champagne off a table, unnoticed. She headed towards their table.

"Your champagne," she offered the bottle, waiting to be noticed.

"We didn't order any champagne. Where's the Doctor," the plastic demanded.

The Doctor frowned and turned towards Ross.

"Sir, your champagne," she offered again.

"It's not ours. Mickey, what is it? What's wrong," Ross asked this girl.

He cared for her, or at least this image of the girl and not the plastic. They must be in a relationship. The Doctor felt a little pang of jealousy.

'Stop.' She internally yelled at herself.

"Doesn't anybody want this champagne?"

"Look, we didn't order it," The plastic finally looked up to see the Doctor. "Ah, gotcha," the plastic smiled.

The Doctor started to shake the bottle vigorously. "Don't mind me. I'm just toasting the happy couple. On the house!" She yelled as the cork was released. It flew and stuck in the plastic's forehead.

Slowly the cork was absorbed into her forehead. She soon spit it out of her mouth. Ross looked horrified.

"Anyway," the plastic began to get up, and turned its hand into a chopper.

Ross let out a surprised yell, and fled as plastic Mickey busted the table. The Doctor grabbed the Auton's head, and pulled it off. The other customers saw this, and began to panic. All hell broke loose.

"Don't think that's going to stop me," the head spoke to the Doctor.

The plastic's body got up, and started to flail around. Ross, being the genius that he was, set off the fire alarm. This would allow the customers to escape.

"Everyone out! Out now! Get out! Get out! Get out!" Ross yelled.

The Doctor then led Ross through the kitchen. The head tried to bite the Doctor.

"Oi! Stop that!"

The body of the head wrecked the restaurant before following them to the back exit. The Doctor quickly sealed the exit shut while Ross ran down the alley, past the TARDIS. The Doctor found it ironic that she parked it there earlier in the day. Ross was panicked when he found a padlock on the exit gates.

"Open the gate! Use that tube thing. Come on!"

"Sonic screwdriver," she corrected him.

"Use it," he frantically yelled.

The Doctor casually walked over toward the TARDIS.

"Nah. Tell you what, let's go in here."

The Doctor unlocked the police box, and went inside. The Auton hammered on the metal door, making large dents.

"You can't hide inside a wooden box. It's going to get us! Doctor," Ross yelled.

He tried the gate again. The blonde finally gave up on the gate. He ran into the TARDIS. Ross paused, and stared wide eyed around the console room. He quickly ran out. The human was probably trying to figure out the 'bigger on the inside' concept. The boy finally ran back inside.

"It's going to follow us," he panicked.

The Doctor rushed around the console, pressing buttons and pulling knobs. "The assembled hoards of Genghis Khan couldn't get through that door, and believe me, they've tried. Now shut up a minute."

The Doctor set the head on the console panel, and started to attach wires to it. If she could set up a connection, then she could get to the main signal!

"You see, the arm was too simple, but the head is perfect! I can use it to trace the signal back to the original source." The Doctor turned to the confused human. "Right. Where do you want to start?"

"Um… The inside's bigger than the outside…?" Ross spoke hesitantly.

"Yes."

"'s alien."

"Yeah."

"Are you alien?"

"Yes… Is that alright?" The Doctor prepared herself for a scream and rejection from the boy.

"Yeah."

'Thank Rassilon! I'm no good with emotional situations.' She thought to herself.

"It's called the TARDIS, this thing. T. A. R. D. I. S. That's Time And Relative Dimension In Space."

Ross looked ready to burst into tears.

'Please don't cry! Please don't cry!'

"That's okay. Cultural Shock. Happens to the best of us," she spoke awkwardly. She really wasn't good with the whole 'emotions' thing.

"Did they kill her? Mickey? Did they kill Mickey? Is she dead," Ross asked concerned.

The Doctor furrowed her eyebrows. "Oh, didn't think of that."

"She's my girlfriend. You pulled off her head. They copied her and you didn't even think?" He then wildly gestured to the console panel. "And now you're just going to let her melt?"

"Melt?" The Doctor turned to look and gasped.

"Oh no! No, no, no, no!"

She ran over to the console fast, and set the TARDIS in motion. She needed to follow that signal!

"What are you doing?"

"Following the signal. It's fading! Wait a minute," she quickly latched onto the fading signal. "I've got it!" The signal started to fade quicker and was almost gone. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Almost there. Almost there. Here we go!"

The TARDIS landed, and the Doctor bolted out the door.

"You can't go out there! It's not safe," Ross yelled behind the Doctor.

The night time breeze blew through the Doctor's hair. She frowned deeply.

"I lost the signal. I got so close!"

"We've moved. Does it fly?"

"Disappears there and reappears here. You wouldn't understand." She was frustrated with the situation.

"If we're somewhere else, what about the headless thing? It's still on the loose."

The Doctor began to stress out.

"It melted with the head. Are you going to witter on all night," she questioned bitterly.

There was a short pause before Ross quietly spoke up, almost heartbroken.

"I'll have to tell her mother. Mickey. I'll have to tell her mother she's dead, and you just went and forgot her, again! You were right, you are alien."

The Doctor faced Ross now. She was getting very cross.

"Look, if I did forget some kid called Mickey-"

"She's not a kid!"

"It's because I'm trying to save the life of every stupid ape blundering on top of this planet, all right!"

Selfish. That's what these humans are. Ungrateful for the acts of heroicness she does. She risks her life countless times, and all they care about are themselves.

"If you're an alien, how comes you sound like you're from the North?"

"Lots of planets have a North." She was starting to calm down.

"What's a 'police public call box'?"

"It's a telephone box from the 1950's. It's a disguise."

"Okay. And this, this living plastic. What's it got against us?"

"Nothing. It loves you. You've got such a good planet. Lots of smoke and oil, plenty of toxins and dioxins in the air, perfect. Just what the Nestene Consciousness needs. Its food stock was destroyed in the war, all its protein plants rotted, so Earth, dinner!" She made an eating motion.

"Any way of stopping it?"

The Doctor grinned, before taking out a tube filled with blue liquid.

"Anti-plastic."

"Anti-plastic?"

"Anti-plastic! But first I've got to find it. How can you hide something that big in a city this small?"

"Hold on. Hide what?" Ross asked.

"The transmitter. The consciousness is controlling every single piece of plastic, so it needs a transmitter to boost the signal."

"What's it look like?"

"Like a transmitter. Round and massive, slap bang in the middle of London."

Ross stared behind the Doctor, but she didn't notice.

"A huge circular metal structure like a dish, like a wheel. Radial. Close to where we're standing. Must be completely invisible!"

Ross kept gesturing towards the Eye.

"What?" The Doctor looked around confused. She finally saw the Eye and caught on.

"Oh. Fantastic!"

The Doctor then began to bolt across the Westminster Bridge. Ross was running right next to her. She grinned and held out her hand to him. He took it. They both ran together hand-in-hand down to the Eye.

"Think of it, plastic all over the world, every artificial thing waiting to come alive. The shop window dummies, the phones, the wires, the cables-"

"The breast implants," Ross added in.

"Still, we've found the transmitter. The consciousness must be somewhere underneath."

Ross took off out of the Doctor's sight.

"What about down there," Ross calls.

The Doctor went over to investigate. She ended up finding a manhole. She grinned.

"Looks good to me!"

They ran down the parapet's steps. The Doctor opened up the hatch to find a red glow from below. She began down the latter. Once down, she cautiously opened the door. Inside was, to no surprise, the consciousness.

'Ross is fantastic! I might have to keep him around.'

"The Nestene Consciousness," She pointed to the vat. "That's it, inside the vat. A living plastic creature."

"Well then, tip in your anti-plastic and let's go," Ross said, a bit unnerved.

The Doctor frowned, before heading down the stairs.

"I'm not here to kill it. I've got to give it a chance."

She walked down to a catwalk overlooking the vat.

"I seek audience with the Nestene Consciousness under peaceful contract according to convention fifteen of the Shadow Proclamation."

The vat of plastic started to flex. It approved of her request.

"Thank you. If I might have permission to approach?"

The Doctor noticed Ross run straight to Mickey with worry. She just rolled her eyes at them.

"Oh god! Mickey, it's me! It's okay, it's all right."

"That thing down there, the liquid. Ross, it can talk!" Mickey was practically shaking from fright.

"Doctor, they kept her alive!"

"Yeah, that was always a possibility. Keep her alive to maintain the copy," she informed him.

"You knew that and you never said," he asked slightly cross.

"Can we keep the domestics outside? Thank you." The Doctor shot as she walked down to get closer to the consciousness.

"Am I addressing the consciousness?" It replied with a yes.

"Thank you. If I might observe, you infiltrated this civilization by means of warp shunt technology. So, may I suggest, with the greatest respect, that you shunt off?"

The vat of plastic started to reply angrily.

"Oh don't give me that. It's an invasion, plain and simple. Don't talk constitutional right."

The consciousness started to angrily splash back and forth.

"I am talking!" The Time Lord yells. "This planet is just starting. These stupid little people have only just learnt how to walk, but they're capable of so much more. I'm asking you on their behalf. Please, just go."

"Doctor!" Ross yelled out.

She turned around just in time to see the plastics grab her. She struggled against them. One dummy took the anti-plastic from her pocket.

"That was just insurance! I wasn't going to use it!"

The consciousness was extremely angry now.

"I was not attacking you! I'm here to help. I'm not your enemy. I swear, I'm not!"

The consciousness screeched at the Doctor.

"What do you mean," she asked confused.

Just then, a door slid back to reveal the TARDIS.

"No. Oh, no. Honestly, no!" She knew where this was going. It was horrified of her, because of the war.

"Yes, that's my ship." It screeched at her more. "That's not true! I should know, I was there! I fought in the war. It wasn't my fault. I couldn't save your world! I couldn't save any of them!"

"What's it doing," Ross called down.

"It's the TARDIS! The Nestene's identified its superior technology. It's terrified. It's going to the final phase. It's starting the invasion!" Her stomach dropped. "Get out, Ross! Just leg it now!"

The consciousness started to throw energy bolts around.

"It's the activation signal. It's transmitting!"

The Eye started to light up with energy.

"It's the end of the world." Ross stated.

The plastic in the vat was getting extremely agitated.

"Get out, Ross! Just get out! Run!" The Doctor was starting to get anxious. She just wanted Ross to get out safely.

"The stairs are gone," he yelled.

'Oh great.'

The Autons tried to push the Doctor into the vat. Ross and Mickey ran to the TARDIS hoping for safety.

"I haven't got the key," he yelled.

"We're going to die," Mickey cried.

"No!" The Doctor yelled.

"Time Lord." The Nestene spoke.

The Doctor continued to struggle against the Autons. She ended up tossing one over her shoulder into the vat just as Ross swung by on a chain. He kicked the other Auton into the vat along with the anti-plastic.

"Ross!" She grabbed a hold of him as he shakily landed back on the platform. They both looked down at the consciousness.

"Now we're in trouble," she tells him as she starts to run for the TARDIS.

Explosions start to go off everywhere. She quickly unlocked the TARDIS and hastily brushed past Mickey. As soon as she saw they were both inside, she started running around the console flipping switches and hitting buttons. She internally gave a sigh of relief once they rematerialized at a safer place. Mickey quickly stumbled out followed by Ross. The Doctor just smiled and leaned against the door frame.

"Nestene Consciousness? Easy." The Doctor grinned.

"You were useless in there. You'd be dead if it wasn't for me," Ross pointed out.

The Gallifreyan nodded. "Yes, I would. Thank you." There was a long pause before the Doctor spoke again. "Right then. I'll be off, unless, er… I don't know, you could come with me." She smiled at Ross, hopeful. "This box isn't just a London hopper, you know. It goes anywhere in the universe free of charge."

"Don't! She's an alien. She's a thing!" Mickey warned Ross.

'Rude!'

"She's not invited," the Doctor pointed at Mickey. She looked at Ross, "What do you think? You could stay here, fill your life with work and food and sleep, or you could go anywhere."

"Is it always this dangerous?" Ross asked.

The Doctor smiled and nodded. "Yeah."

The Doctor inwardly glared at Mickey for hugging Ross's waist. "Yeah, I can't. I've, er, I've got to go and find my mum and someone's got to look after this dim lump, so…"

She nodded awkwardly. "Okay, see you around." She quickly retreated into the TARDIS, and took off for the time vortex.

Once in the vortex, she sat down on the jumper seat. She couldn't help but feel disappointed. Ross and she could have gone on so many amazing adventures together. He could have been great to have around even if he did aggravate her at times. He was brilliant! It's also been quite some time since she had a companion with her. She couldn't just give up so easily! Something had to make him want to join her. Just then, an idea hit her.

She re-materialized the TARDIS back in the same spot it was in just seconds before. She sprinted to the door, and poked her head out.

"By the way, did I mention it also travels in time?"

She watched as Ross gave Mickey a peck on the cheek, before quickly running into the TARDIS. And off they went.

***

Thanks for reading! 💙

[supernaturaltfwmeme]

12 Days of Dean Winchester. -Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

December 16th

“Sam, I think I know what you’re hunting.”  

That made you sit bolt right up. Dean too

“what is it?” you asked climbing out of bed and going to join Sam at the table.

“Not a what, a who.” Charlie explained.

“Care to elaborate” It was Dean who spoke, approaching the table rubbing his eyes before leaning on the back of your chair.

“I think it someone called Hans Trapp.”

“Never heard of him.” You muttered.

“He’s and anti-Santa figure kind of like Krampus.”  

“Oh great, as if he wasn’t bad enough to try and kill” Dean rolled his eyes.

“You guys killed Krampus? How has this never come up? I mean it’s Christmas for Dad sake, it should of come up.” you couldn’t help but chuckled at Gabriel's outburst.

“It was years ago Gabe.” you told him.

“But still.”

“Anyway Charlie, how do we kill him?”

“I’m not entirely sure.” She admitted.

“Why not?” Dean asked.

“Well the lore I can find says he was a wealthy man, but he was greedy and just down right evil. It doesn’t say why but he was exiled by the catholic church, so sold his soul.”

“Great demon deal, this is getting more complicated by the minute.” You complained.

“It says here that he was basically ran out of town and ended up living in a nearby forest. So, to take revenge I guess on the townspeople he started disguising himself as a scarecrow by stuffing his clothes with straw and kidnapping children to well eat them.”

“That explains the human bite marks in the clothes.” Dean added.

“So, what happened after that.” Sam asked.

“Well it says that god got sick of his evil ways and basically struck him down with a bolt of lightning.”

“How are we supposed to get him to get hit by lightning?” you were just thinking out loud at this point.

“Here’s where it stops making sense though. It says here that like Krampus he teamed up with good old St. Nicholas. Except where Krampus punished bad children, Hans Trapp tried to convince them to change their ways so they wouldn’t end up like him.”

“Well that just doesn’t make sense. Why would he start killing if he wanted children to change their ways?” Sam asked.

“Maybe were dealing with a ghost, you know the longer they hang on the angrier they get, who knows maybe this’ll just be a simple salt and burn.” Dean said hopefully. Maybe his plans to give you the perfect Christmas wouldn’t be completely derailed after all.

“Well that still leads to another problem.” Charlie added. Damn it could never just be simple could it.

“What is it Charlie?” Sam asked

“The legend of Hans Trapp is based on a real guy; Hans von Troth. He was a knight back in the 15th century. In Germany. And he died in a fire. There isn’t a body.”

“How the hell does a German knight who lived 600 years ago end up haunting a small town in Kansas?” Dean asked dropping his head into his hands.

“I think I can help with that.” It was Cas who spoke this time, making Charlie jump a little as he appeared behind her.

“Based on Charlie’s research, I did a google? Is that how you say it?” you all couldn’t help a little at Cas.

“After a while of searching it turns out the town you are in has a Christmas display at a museum, featuring the origins of Christmas legends. They might have something that belongs to this Hans von Troth.”

“that would make sense he could be haunting an object and that’s why there were no murders until a few days ago.” You added.

“Thanks for your help guys.” Sam said before hanging up the phone.

“Guess we better check out that museum then.”

You all got ready and headed out to the museum. When you got there, there was barely anybody inside, the exhibit clearly wasn’t that popular. You and the boys walked around until you found the section on Hans Trapp. Looking over it there was barely anything in it, mainly just the lore Charlie had told you about earlier. However, inside a nearby glass case there was one item that supposedly belonged to Hans von Troth, an old sword.

“Damn she’s a beauty.” You said admiring the sword.

“She shore is, shame we have to burn her.” Dean whisper coming up behind you.

“You guys do realise you're referring to a sword as she” Sam rolled his eyes. Before you could reply you hear a bit of a commotion behind you. It was one of the staff members arguing with a little boy.

“Iv’e already told you no Children without a parent or Guardian” she snapped. Who speak to a kid that way. The boy spoke up in a small voice

“But I am here with an adult.” he lied.

“Really?” The woman sneered. “Then where are they?” She clearly didn’t believe him. You weren’t going to listen to this.

“I'm right here.” You said stepping towards the little boy. “And don’t speak to my brother like that.” you snapped. The woman just glared at you before saying “Well don’t let him touch anything, children just get everything dirty.” She screwed her face up before walking away.

“Are you ok?” you asked the little boy.

“Yeah I'm fine.” He replied “I’m Ollie” he said putting his hand out to you making you smile.

“Well hi Ollie I'm y/n, it’s very nice to meet you.” You said shaking his hand. “What was that all about?”  

“she doesn’t like children.”

“Well I gathered that. But do you know why?”

“No but she doesn’t let us in the museum without adult supervision, but my parents are at work and I wanted to see the exhibit.”

“How old are you Ollie?”

“9” you smiled at him. The kid was smart he reminded you a lot of a younger Sam.  

“Would you like to meet my friends?”  

“OK” Ollie followed after you.

“Ollie this is Sam and this is Dean. Boys this is Ollie.” You introduced them.  

“Hi Ollie” Sam said. Dean just waved.

“The bitch who works here won’t let kids in without and adult so if anyone asks, he’s my brother.” You explained. Ollie smiling and running to look at the Krampus display. Dean couldn’t help but smile at that. He walked over to Ollie looking over the Krampus display with him.

“So kid, what you doing spending winter break in a museum?”

“I like myths and legends.” he said simply moving to a different display. “I like y/n, she’s pretty” Ollie added innocently.

“Yeh she is.” Dean said glancing back over to you as you were talking to Sam.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Ollie asked finally looking up at Dean.

“Err no she’s not.” Dean felt his cheeks flush a little. Awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“Why not, She’s pretty and nice. Don’t you want her to be your girlfriend?”  

“jez kid you ask a lot of questions.” Dean tried to avoid the subject. Being an inquisitive kid though Ollie didn’t give up that easily.  

“My mom said if you like somebody you should tell them because you never know if they like you back.” Dean couldn’t help but wonder if he really was that obvious about his feeling that even a kid he had just met could tell.

“Your mom sounds like a smart lady.” Dean commented before turning his attention back to you. You stayed in the museum until Ollie was done, using the time to stake out the security for later. When you were leaving you turned to Ollie and asked “Are you going to be able to get home ok?”

“Yeah I live just there.” He told you pointing at a house across the street.  

“OK well see you later kiddo.”

“Bye y/n, bye Dean, bye Sam.” Ollie called cheerily as he walked away. You watched him until he was inside before climbing into the impala. You leaned forward in your seat and asked the boys “SO what the plan?”

“all the victims have died at some point after 8pm so Come back as soon as it’s dark and they’re closed, they have a pretty simple security system, just a few cameras and an alarms system. It's a duel code system though, one code to disable the door alarms another to disable the display case alarms.” Dean explained

“You know Dean in another life you would have made a great thief.” You laughed.  

“Yeah, the only problem is I only got one of the codes, watched her put the door code in 5639. Hopefully the other code is on the computer somewhere, maybe Charlie could find it.”  

“Gotta say Dean I'm a little impressed.”  

“I’m gonna hang back and try and get into their camera system to disable them while you two break in.”

“Sounds like a plan”

Later that night

You were dressing in all black so was Sam and Dean you parked a little away from the museum as not to draw attention to yourself, and walked over. Sam staying in the car. Before going inside, you walked up to a metal box on the side of the museum, plugging a small device Charlie had built from an old flash drive into the internal paneling. That gave Sam access to the cameras. Dean had a Bluetooth device in his ear to talk to Sam.

“Right Dean I'm not great at this and Charlie will be busy getting into the computer so move when I say.”

“Ok Sammy.”  you started to pick the lock since you were quicker at this than Dean. Within a few seconds you felt the lock click and slowly turned the knob.

“Sam we’ve got the lock you ready with that first camera?” you heard Dean ask after a couple of seconds he gave you the nod to open the door. Dean rushed to the alarm panel and typed in the code before the alarm could go off. You went to walk towards the computer when you felt Dean Grab your hand and tug you back. You turned towards him he nodded towards the next camera. You saw the light was still on. A few seconds later it went off and you moved quickly to the computer.

Sitting down in the chair you powered on the computer and started looking around in the draws before pulling out a post it note and typing int the password. Dean raiser and eyebrow at you.

“What?” you whispered.

“How’d you know the password would be in there?” He asked  

“The man who owns the place is in a photo by the entrance he has expensive clothes but a cheap security system. It's not because of cost but ease. He's terrible with technology, so it was a safe bet he would of wrote the password down and kept it nearby.” you explained. The corner of Deans lips turning up a little.

“I’m impressed Singer.” He said sitting on the edge of the desk.  

“You’re not the only one who’d make a good thief.” you smirked. You pulled out your phone dialing Charlies number.

“You at the computer?” She asked as soon as she answered.  

“Yeah what do I do know?”

“Open up the email and give me the email address.” You did as she said.  

“Ok you should get an email any second from an untraceable account, it’ll contain a link click it. It’s a virus it’ll allow me to hack into the computer and download the virus to find the alarm code.” After a few seconds you saw an email pop up. You almost died when you saw the email address Charlie had picked. your face went bright red and you coughed a little, taking Charlie off speakerphone.  

“Really That’s what you picked?” Dean gave you a weird look but didn’t question it.

“What?” Charlie acted innocent but let out a laugh, you were going to kill her. The first part of the email address was y0u25h0uldk155. Or you 2 should kiss. You were really glad Dean was sat on the other side of the computer. You clicked the link and Charlie downloaded the files. After 30 seconds she half yelled in your ear “ok y/n I've got it. The code is 1309.”

“Dean 1309. Charlie I'll see you later.” you hang up as Dean waits for the camera at the alarm panel to go off before walking back over and typing in the code.

“Sam said we have 90 seconds before the alarm resets.” you wait for the camera pointing at the sword to shut down before walking over and picking the lock. When you’re done Dean carefully removes the sword and shuts the case just as the alarm resets.  

“Let's get out of here.” You said powering down the computer and following dean outside. You grab Charlies device from the camera system as Dean heads towards the car you quickly catch up. Climbing into the car, Sam shuts down his laptop. Dean chucks you the sword and starts the car driving off. You pull up behind your motel in a secluded area. You throw the sword on the ground covering it in salt as Sam pours Something flammable over it. When your done Dean Sparks his lighter throwing it on the sword the thing burning better than you expected. You glace at your phone. 19:59. You'd mad it just in time.

After you’d all got something to eat, Sam decides to call it a night. You were sitting on the other bed when Dean walks over carrying Sam’s laptop.

“What’s that for?” You ask as he sits down.

“Well the case is officially over so, I figured we can actually celebrate Christmas.” He smiled putting on a Christmas movie. It was your favourite. That’s why he had picked it. He moved so he was lying down with the computer in his lap. And pulled you closer so your head was on his chest, Dean playing with your hair. And that’s how you fell asleep.

December 17th

You woke up the next morning to the sound of the door slamming as Sam left to go for a run. You groaned and turned over burying your face in Deans chest. “It’s too damn early.” You muttered annoyed, making Dean chuckle. He just wrapped his arm around you tighter. “go back to sleep then.” That’s exactly what you did.

An hour and a half later you woke up to the sound of the door slamming again.  

“Jesus Sam, can’t you shut the door like a normal person.”

“Guys we have a problem.” his tone instantly waking you and Dean up.

“What is it?” Dean asked.

“Another kid was killed last night.”

“So, we didn’t burn the word early enough.” You said sadly.

“No y/n, the kid was last seen around 20:40. 40 minutes after we burned the sword.”

Part 5