#and I’ve even fainted/panicked myself into blacking out entirely like I mentioned. even when I was standing here once.

[seraphicalsuccubus]

I’m sorry for a really heavy post but um, I am literally in the throes of the most intense and miserable and fucking sickening and psychologically convoluted mental fucking battle with my paranoia and straight up panicking myself senseless right now, so I really need to just vent about how I feel like my anxiety just decided it needed to beat the ever loving shit out of me with a fucking steel chair or some shit, out of nowhere for no fucking goddamn reason at 4 in the morning and just left me to fucking rot afterwards, so like ?? okay ?? thanks for this ??

but it has done so to the point where I’m shaking uncontrollably and can’t relax any part of my fucking body and I’m cold like, in my fucking bones, which is weird. and I just feel this very debilitating sinking feeling that something very, very bad is coming for me. and soon. as if it’s very much so this imminent threat and going to happen very fucking quickly. but out of absolutely nowhere so I won’t be able to brace myself for it even though I know it’s coming because I still don’t know when it’s coming. I just know that it is. and it’s like I have this deeply rooted pit of that like, fucking terrifying, stop you in your tracks despite wanting to force yourself to just run until you can’t anymore in any attempt to try to get away from it, kind of fear that has grown in my stomach so fast that I feel physically sick. and at the same time, I also have what feels like a huge hand balled up in a fist and tightening everything I have in my chest and I can’t fucking breathe.

I feel like I’m suffocating and drowning and I’m being whirlpooled in this fucking wave of unending alarm bells sounding from every nook and cranny in my head right now from my intuition telling me something isn’t right and also warning me of something worse on the way. because it’s as if this … this horribly intense, chilled to the bone, fucking heart stopping, breath catching in your throat and physically choking to death on the fear, just absolutely sickening feeling of fucking dread has made it’s nasty little unwanted self a home in me for the time being, and I am unable to evict it or ignore it no matter what I do. it’s just fucking buried itself deep in the core of my being and my psyche, and it’s fucking taunting me and eating at me because I don’t know what is going to happen, but something is going to happen. it’s fucking haunting me. something bad is coming and I’m so unbelievably fucking afraid of what it is after everything else I’ve had to deal with up until this that has never fucking once instilled this kind of, like, just full on fucking gut wrenching paranoia and dread, or this kind of immediate emotional and mental kind of like weird ‘natural selection is coming for me and I’ve gotta come out a survivor’ sort of fear response in my entire being. I’ve never felt a fear this all encompassing and … oddly life threatening? but more in like the stress is going to give me a heart attack and kill me at 27 not like as if someone’s going to come actively murder me, just to clarify. but I feel like I’m actually fucking losing my grip on fucking reality because of this panic episode. I seriously can’t just shake this one off like usual and smoke myself to sleep and forget about. I’m like, actually very genuinely fucking terrified of whatever’s going to happen to me next in my life, instead of looking forward to the future like I have been for a while.

I now feel like at any time from here on that my life itself is going to fucking unravel around me and I can’t stop it and I can’t predict when it’s going to start or what is going to trigger it. I can only watch and desperately grasp at the shreds while it’s all fucking ripped away from me without any warning and I’m left back in that hole I was in for so long, once again.

it’s coming. and I don’t know what it is. but it’s absolutely not good. and I am genuinely afraid that I’m legitimately going to panic myself into a fucking heart attack because of my anxiety and all this fucking mental stress, in the very near future if this feeling doesn’t fucking leave before it kills me.

I’m just. tired. I’m so fucking tired and fatigued and exhausted on a molecular fucking level at this point, and it never leaves. I am always constantly fucking drained and tired in a way that sleep just cannot provide the rest that my soul needs, and I feel very defeated lately. like fucking hell, can’t I get a fucking break? just fucking once? just for a fucking day? before I literally lose myself entirely to my mental illnesses again and ruin all the fucking progress I’ve made all these years as if it didn’t fucking matter and have to start from fucking scratch after all this time? I thought things were finally looking up, why is this happening again? why must I constantly live with this ingrained, irrational, petrifying mental fear of just … something? why do I never know what it is, but always know when whatever it is, is coming for me?

like, fuck. I don’t know what karmic bullshit this is punishing me for from a past life but I hope that version of me fucking rots eternally for whatever the fuck they did to cause this kinda of mental turmoil on my current incarnation. because this stupid fucking deep seated panic randomly blooming in my chest until it just clenches it all in a ball, and burying itself even deeper in my stomach, and starting to take over my fucking logical sense of thought and reason that I find myself now constantly fucking at war with, is actually going to be the fucking death of me.

I’ve always joked that stress was going to kill me because I really am a constant ball of fucking nerves and paranoia and stress, but I was kinda hoping I wouldn’t be right about that one.

talk about manifesting gone wrong, lmfao 🫠

sorry for taking y’all on this rollercoaster of ridiculous emotional and mental fucking warfare against myself, with me ??? I don’t know 😭 I just needed someone to talk to and it’s easier to just make a post than bother anyone personally because I don’t want to burden anyone specifically with my shit. but right now I’m just screaming to the void I guess so it’s different, I don’t know. I’ll end this here and try to go calm my panic, really hope y'all are having a better night than I am 😭

[vanillann]

the 1994 battle of the performers (luke patterson x f.reader)

i’m so glad y’all liked this because i loved writing it

word count: 2.7k

the 1994 battle of the performers masterlist

Chapter 1: Milo’s

“Hi, is this the Peters residents?”

Whoever picked up the phone shushed the person that was yelling in the background, missing the reserver as I could hear everything.

“Who’s asking?” The voice was rough and it reminded me of my step-mother and her never-ending cigarette problem.

“I know your son, I was wondering if he was home because I have something of his,” I looked to the well planned out history notes that I held tightly in my hand.

I know I could have, no should have, just waited for Monday to return the papers but I couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday in the gym and that stupid video.

Was I actually decent? I knew I wasn’t the same level I was at one point but I had a chance and according to the four, she wasn’t bad.

“He’s not here, that boy, he’s probably at that Bobby’s boy house,” I nodded even if they couldn’t hear me, understanding this nasty language more than I wish.

“Do you know their address?”

“Yeah yeah, 458 Sunset Road,” I opened my mouth, ready to thank the lady but the phone was hung up quickly and I rolled my eyes. I was thankful that my parents with ahead and divorce when things started getting bad.

I grabbed the papers a little tighter in my hands, realizing I lived a block or so from the house in question and left the keys on my bedside table. No need to waste gas for some notes that I didn’t even need to drop off. I walked down the carpet stairs of my house and walked out the front door.

As soon as I made it from the door I felt the sun run over my skin, calming to my overthinking mind as I grabbed the railing, careful not to make my knee worse.

Did they delete the video as I asked?

Was this stupid?

I knew how desperate they were, it could have been all a plan to get me a part of the team because if I trusted them then some other dancers might. I was respected in the dance community and I knew the numbers to call.

I watched my feet, skipping each crack in the pavement as I did so for something for my brain to focus on.

Would they really help me face this fear?

Were they just selfish?

As I turned down one of the roads I could hear a faint sound of loud music drift over the streets, kids drawing on the road with chalk and bobbing their head.

I couldn’t believe the difference in the two sides of the neighbors, how proper and elegant my side was compared to the dancing kids, and the loud music. I spotted a small lemonade stand across from the house I was heading for.

A light smile graced my lips, amazed at the little community the little space had. It wasn’t just doctors and lawyers packed together trying to be better than the next yard.

I stopped at the driveway for the house, looking over the black roof and the white exterior of the house. Would it be weird just showing up?

We weren’t friends, no problem between me and the four but still, I definitely shouldn’t know where one lives and the only reason I knew that was from a phone call with the Peters, which I got from the phone book.

Maybe this was weird, very very weird. I panicked when I heard some sort of door open, the loud boyish laugh drifting from wherever to my spot at the end of the driveway.

“That might be one of our best works,” the happy voice was nice, the atmosphere obviously better than yesterday.

I panicked, turning around while my sweaty hands gripped the notes in my hand tightly.

“(Y/N)?”

I closed my eyes, taking a small breath in and turning back to the four boys I knew were looking at me widely.

“Hi,” I nodded, looking at each of their confused faces. I knew this would be weird.

“I have Reggie’s notes,” I held them out to the boy who was clad in a leather jacket as he gave a soft smile.

“Thanks, how’d you know I’d be here?”

I was thankful his voice was disgusted and angry but nice and gentle, just what I needed right now.

“Found you in the phone book,” I nodded, wondering if I should apologize for the household, but I backed off when I realized it wasn’t my place.

“You called my parents?”

I watched his shoulders drop, his face psychically panicking as he looked back to his friends for some help.

“Yeah, they seemed Uhm, nice?”

Reggie watched me for a few seconds while I rocked back and forth on my beat-up tennis shoes, doing my best not to combust at the sight.

“Oh, Uhm yeah,” he nodded, a mutual agreement made with each other's eyes not to mention any farther.

“Is that all?”

Patterson, or Luke, stood behind Reggie obviously trying to protect the boy from whatever I might say next.

“No,” I nodded, doing my best to come off as friend and not foe but it felt too late from that as Luke gave a grumpy smile.

“Bye bye then,” Luke waved, keeping Reggie close to his side. Reggie looked up at Luke, begging him to stop his anger to me.

I turned around, doing my best to run away for the four without making myself look more like an idiot, but I’ve never been great about that with boys.

“Do you have the video?”

Shut up (Y/N)!

“Uhm, yeah,” Bobby cut in, his voice calm as if not to scare me or make me mad. I didn’t know which but I understood both sides.

“Can I see it?” I turned back around this time, taking in some heavy breaths as I prepared for faces that looked like they would hurt me, but it never came.

Reggie looked to be bouncing on his heels as his smile grew ten times the size, Alex looked to be taking breaths that were calming his nerves, Bobby nodding his head at me with a smirk, and Luke looked to bite his bottom lip trying to hide his smile.

“Yeah, no totally,” Luke looked at his other bandmates, smirking as he walked past me. I was about to say something, pointing over at the house where they had just left from.

“We have to get Milo’s first,” Luke called over his shoulder, pointing over at the lemonade stand that I noticed once I turned the block.

“Milo’s?” I watched the other three follow Luke, each turning back to me while waving their arms.

“You’ll never have anything better,” Alex called over his shoulder, smiling once the little boy came running from the house. He almost came alive at the sight of the boys standing in front of his stand, the boy couldn’t be more than 8.

I slowly walked across the street, looking to both sides twice before jogging to join the boys that seemed to smile as the little boy made it down his stair railing and skipped to the older ones.

“Morning boys,” he spoke with a small lisp and seemed to be missing a tooth but his smile would have lit up a room in the entire state.

“Morning Milo,” Luke responded, leaning against the stand before it shook slightly and he hurriedly pulled away.

“Who’s that?”

He didn’t seem bothered by my presence, just curious about it. I was wondering why I never knew about what went on around the block from my house, but that didn’t matter as Reggie grabbed my wrist and pulled me to the front.

“A friend from school, her name (Y/N),” Bobby introduces me, the boy smiling as he holds his hand out for a handshake. I reached out, placing my hand in his and he gave a firm shake. I was shocked at his confidence, making me miss my own.

“I’m Milo, Sunset Road official lemonade and bakery stand,” his voice made a smile grace my lips, watching as he left a cute little kiss on my knuckle, earning a laugh from the other boys.

“Okay loverboy, we demand service,” Luke jokily slammed his hand on the table of the stand, pulling the sweater on my arm so he rested back to my side.

“Coming up!”

The boy dived behind the stand, pulling out a cheap bucket he got from a local shop with four mason jars inside. Once he pulled them out I noticed that each one had glitter and colored paper. Each had different drawings and little cut-outs.

I reached from one, Luke trying to grab my arm but I was already spinning it around, in horrible handwritten was the name “LUKE” in all capital letters.

“Oh wow,” I smiled at the horrible handwritten and the little microphone that definitely didn’t look like a microphone. The blue and red glitter made the sight even better.

“They made them once they became regular after babysitting me one night,” Milo cut in, holding up a finger to run back in the house, probably to grab the lemonade.

I smiled turning around and smiling at the others around us. Bobby looked as embarrassed but Alex was simply laughing at the others and Reggie looked proud.

“I came to watch my tape but this might be better,” I tried to turn my laugh into a cough since I still wasn’t that close with the boys.

“Hush,” Luke bumped my shoulder. Milo's wide laugh brought me back to the boy as he held a plain mason jar in his hand.

I couldn’t believe myself as I watched my feet glide across the floor, for the first time in a long time. I definitely wasn’t as good as I once was, which made me upset me but I still wasn’t half that bad.

“See! We told you,” Luke had made sure to sit close beside me on the couch of what seemed to be their studio. He wanted to watch how I reacted, thinking I would change my mind.

I couldn’t help but think I would, I mean I came here on a Saturday for a reason and it wasn’t the return notes.

“I’m not as good as I was, but I’m not bad,” I kept watching, smiling before I watched myself spin. My body falling to the floor as it did all those months ago, the horror-filled me up before Alex ripped the video camera from my grip.

“That’s not important,” he nervously laughed, hiding the camera behind his back but I could still hear their panicked voice from yesterday still.

“Because it will never happen again,” Reggie cut in, I could already tell he was optimistic for the four.

“But it could and one more bad fall and I might not walk again.”

I knew how dramatic I sounded but it seemed the only way to get through their skulls. I rolled my eyes, standing up from the couch, not even stopping as I walked to the open doors.

“I don’t know why I even came, I’ll see you guys around,” I waved over my shoulder, letting the video that I would hope have given me hope finally stop playing behind the blonde boys back.

“You came because you miss it.”

I shouldn’t have thought over Luke’s words, he just wanted to win the Battle of the Performers, but man it struck a deep chord. He took me rooted at the door as a sign to continue.

“You miss dancing and if I was as good as you I would be too,” Luke's voice grew closer and closer as he walked closer to my frozen figure.

“I have a question for you,” I spun on my heel, stepping back slightly when I realized how close he was. I could smell the scent of sugar and musk, which was a nice change to the overbearing scents I was used to.

“Shoot!”

“What if you broke your wrist, snapping it just the right way that you could never bend it around the neck of your guitar the same ever again, you couldn’t slide your fingers over the frets the same, would you still play?”

I knew how harsh I sounded, but the truth was harsher because that is exactly what happened to me. I tried a lift cause I was bored during practice and now my dreams were practically gone, so I knew harsh was the only way he’d see it.

“Yes, because music is more than just being good. Sure, it suck but I could still feel it and love it, why’d give up something that special!” He spoke wildly with his hands, obviously not realizing how close we are as he stepped closer.

“But watching someone else dance and myself dancing are two different things,” I spoke, trying to find a flaw in his logic but his point was clear.

Just cause I wouldn’t be as good doesn’t mean I’ll never be good again.

“But you dancing is still possible, we have video evidence,” at that Alex held up the video, pressing play as I watched myself calming walk into the gym, my hands close to my chest as I looked around the room.

“Join us in the Battle of the Performers and maybe you’ll feel it again, let two dreamers chase their dreams together,” he spoke happily, seemingly happy with his words.

“You listen to way too much John Lennon,” I spoke, shaking my head, turning around, and finally leaving the studio. I felt tears threatened to fall down my cheek but knew better than to cry with a chance of getting caught.

As I jogged down the long driveway I was on, the sign I had been asking myself since the fall. Milo stood in his front yard, talking with an older man I had seen work at a bakery a town or two over.

He seemed to have a children's cookbook in his hand, pointing over different things as Milo smiled and took notes in a black and white notebook. Maybe it was stupid to use this as my sign, their were plenty of others that made more sense, but after listening to little 7, soon to be 8, year old, Milo go on and on about how he was going to be a baker even if he wasn’t great at it now.

Because he liked it, that was all. He was bad, according to Bobby he almost burned his house down, but he liked baking so who was to stop him? The only person that Milo let stop him was his mother, but he said that’s only because he can’t reach the top shelves.

I turned around, my confidence that I had missed washing over me in a wave of adrenaline and I didn’t mind it, I missed it.

The doors to the studio were still open and I could hear much talk, maybe tuning but nothing more. I made my way to the door, standing in the center of the doorway while looking over each boy.

These boys played because they liked it, they just happened to be good.

“Need something?”

People didn’t have to be good at something to like it.

“Is she okay?”

And maybe they don’t win the competition, but you can’t win something you don’t try.

“Is she having a stroke?”

I took shaky breaths, looking at each boy's confused face.

“How long till we bomb this battle?”

My words were simple but the smiles that broke across each face were way more complex and beautiful.

“She came thought!” Bobby yelled, jumping up and down as Alex laughed, pulling his friends into a tight hug.

“Sunset Curve gonna win, Sunset Curve gonna win,” Reggie sang in a loud boom, smiling as he did a funny little dance with some sort of imaginary rope.

Luke pushed himself from the couch, running over and wrapping his arms around the back of my head. My two hands rested on his biceps, smiling at the vibe that had busted the room wide open.

“Look’s like you’ll need your own cup at Milo’s with how often you’ll be here.”

the 1994 battle of the performers taglist:

@gia-kerks @notwonder-woman @poisoned-girl @phantompogues @dovesgrangers

[godsofmonster]

Bangtan MC ≽ VI.

Reader x Bangtan- Motorcycle Club

Word Count- 7.1k

Warnings- sexual content, death, murder, guns, drugs, violence, betrayal,  mentions of suicide, mentions of rape, etc.

For as long as I can remember back, I always wanted to be in a motorcycle club. Since I was six years old, the only thing on my mind was getting my hands on a Harley and a cut. I was a wolf, a wild cur, cut from the pack with bloodstained on my fur. Every wrong has marked a debt because a beaten dog never forgets.

The sun was gone, but its light reached for the last bit of sky it could find. The road was practically deserted, I passed a total of four cars on my ride to 18th street. 

My father's motorcycle felt foreign under my touch, and as much as I wanted to make it mine, I couldn't find its compassion. At any minute, I felt it would flip on me, shutdown, or crash. I was riding with no helmet and prayed no police would pull me over. As much as I wanted to race down the road, I took the ride with ease. I could not act relentless, the world was not in my favor as of late. 

Coming up on Charming street, I spotted an old Chevy Impala that was tinted dark. It wasn't black, but it appeared that way in the moonlight. The extravagant ride stood out like a sore thumb in a small town like this.

Once he spotted me, as well, he proceeded to turn on his engine. I parked on the opposite side of the road, and his headlights flashed on as mine went out. My eyes scouted the environment, peering over both shoulders, as I unmounted the bike. Even while knowing that this road would be vacant at night, my paranoia was louder than any voice of reason. 

My feet paced quickly for the passenger seat. I pulled on the handle and almost had a slight heart attack to find that it was locked, I pulled it again, yanking it out of temporary distress. Upon closer observation, I noted his car was a deep moss color before finally hearing the click of the lock open. 

"What the hell is this?" I questioned, while plopping into the seat, and swiftly shutting the door. 

"What?" Romero asked, clueless.

"This," I gestured to the vehicle that encased us. He glanced about as if he could not see what I was suggesting. "This car- it's obnoxious!"

The seats were a custom leather, a soft cream color. Personal articles decorated the car’s interior space, novelty items, and religious emblems. "What? Are you infiltrating the cartel?"

Agent Romero stared at me with puzzled eyes, shortly before a chortle erupted from his lungs. He raised his hand at me as if to ask for a minute, while he allowed his giggles to run their course. However, I was not laughing.

"That’s racist,” He pointed out in the midst of his laughter. He leaned forth, stretching his hand to tenderly stroke the skin of his dashboard. "Don't hate the car,"

One would think that I would be more understanding given my choice of lifestyle. Except, for the fact, that my brain was screaming with anxiety and frustration.  

"You couldn't pick something more... appropriate?" I said trying to push my emotions away. Romero shifted the gear into drive, and pulled out of the parking space.

"What? Like a police car?" He joked.

I don’t know if it was just by comparison, but Romero seemed to be in a rather good mood tonight. I, on the other hand, was a panicking mess in the seat beside him. There was little to no tolerance for joy on my side. Any trace of it registered into further panic and uncertainty. It was apparent in the way my leg bounced in place, and it was noticeable enough for it to catch his attention. 

"Try to remain calm," He said in a tone of encouragement. 

I was in no place to accept guidance. The last thing I wanted to hear was the cliche crap that everyone knew how to spill. We were here to do a job, one that risked my life in every possible way. I didn’t want his encouragement, I wanted his understanding. If he was going to use me to his advantage, he needs to know that I had the most to lose. My life was on the line, in more ways than one. 

"Can you at least tell me where we are going?”

As much as I wanted to sit in silence, I had to fill him in on everything that had happened since our meeting this morning. 

"Down Riverside road," I tried to reduce the coldness in my voice. 

I rolled my head against the headrest, squeezing my eyes shut, and attempting to dismiss all of the tension and panic from my consciousness. It was seemingly coming from nowhere and yet, everything stressed me more. 

My entire life, I only ever heard stories of things the club did. They always came from third, outside parties that were biased against them. I told myself a number of things to find reason in the terrible stories I heard. 

Bangtan wasn't full of doctors or lawyers, they were blue-collar guys. The way we saw it, they were out there risking everything to protect our way of life. Everyone knew they cut some corners, sold a few things on the side, and asked for their money in violent ways. It was all to get a few extra bucks and perks. When you lived in a community like that, everything seemed normal, even crime. There were never any outsiders with a different perspective, never.  It used to make me proud to have the kind of father I did. 

Though, now I was the outsider with a new perspective.

I was terrified of what I might see, the corrupt and brutal choices that they could make. I was afraid that Bangtan really had turned into the gang Romero mentioned. Comparing a group of individuals I always admired to some of the foulest scum I’ve learned about would be earth-shattering.

"Do you mind filling me in?" He asked after I failed to, myself. 

My eyes reopened, and found him focused on the road ahead. He held the steering wheel with a single arm at the twelve o'clock position. He was mostly a combination of darkness and a dim outline. The fake lights from inside the car did little to illuminate him.

"After our meeting, I ran into two of the club members," I began to explain, reliving the event like a movie in my mind. "We witnessed a deal go down, and they handled the situation as you would expect."

He wasn't looking in my direction but I could tell he was paying close attention to my words. Not only for information on the club but information on me. 

"What were you doing?" Romero was concerned about my behavior in the field. He had a right to be, but it still bothered me. 

"Babysitting some bimbo who was with us," I muttered annoyed at just the thought. I could have left it there but I knew I couldn't lie to him. "Until, I saw a PB member approaching them..."

He recognized the tone in my voice, and took his eyes off the road for a second to ask,

"What did you do?" He sounded like an angry parent, on the verge of lecturing.

"What was I supposed to do?” I attempted to remain calm. I thought he might see things from my point of view. “I had to interfere, or they could have been hurt." 

"You shot him?" He asked in disbelief and quick anger.

"Not dead!" I clarified, defensively. "I!- I just injured him."

I could see his demeanor change, that good mood I suspected earlier was gone. His fist tightened around the steering wheel, veins popping and outlined by the faint lighting.

"Are you insane?" His voice was rough, bossy, and cold. "You're an unauthorized federal agent and you fired rounds, on the street, in the middle of the day?"

I found myself, once again, being lectured about the same event. I was criticized for saving lives and doing my job. Neither of them were in a place to talk down on me.

"I did what I had to do!" I yelled. "If it wasn't for that- we would have no idea that the PB was cooking meth in Blackburn. We wouldn't have the exact address and time Bangtan was planning their retaliation."

I reminded him of the facts, what actually mattered at this moment. "If you wanted a traditional agent, then you should have gotten one!"

Romero didn't say anything in response. He didn't know what to expect from me. I was raised with a set of beliefs that were different than his own, but that was exactly why he needed me. 

I was here because of my connection and inside knowledge of the club. I knew how they thought and operated, I could speak their tongue. What I did today, established trust between me and them. One that I certainly needed,  after learning about Yoongi's suspicions. If he could doubt me, so could have the rest of them. Bangtan didn’t believe in coincidences and they left no loose ends. I could no longer raise any more suspicions.

"Take the next left," I sighed, after taking a moment to notice our surroundings. 

"Riverside road is still up ahead," He stated as if I didn't know.

"I know that," I said bitterly, wondering why he continued to question me. "This is another way there. If we go down that way, there is a chance we might run into the club."

That was the last thing we needed. The house was in a rural part of town, at the very edge of Blackburn by a lake. Not many people lived by that area, and with a car like this, we would be suspicious for sure.

-

The roads on this side of town were made of only dirt, they were bumpy and uneven. The night fell heavier, with the tension of the forest, it crept on a single side of the path. The lights beams were soft, we couldn't see more than three feet in front of us. Romero worried about the condition of his wheels and took the drive gently. 

"That's got to be it," I muttered, staring out the window. 

Romero drove the car slowly past a driveway that led to the house. It was small, red brick, and cabin-like. It was invisibly ordinary. 

To common folks, there was nothing about this residence that raised eyebrows. To the trained eye, however, a small detail stood out instantly. "Look at that- industrial filters,"

They were large black tanks that were attacked to the side of the home. By the looks of them, they were cooking deadly amounts of meth. 

"Any sign of life?" He asked as he was keeping his eye on the road in front of us. 

"The lights are on, but the blinds are shut," I informed him. There was only a blue pick-up truck beside the house. No other vehicles in sight. "The club will be in a black Nissan NV200." 

It wasn't long before some trees cut my line of sight from the property. I leaned back in my seat and looked at the surrounding area. "Turn into the field right here,"

The car bounced as we went off the trail. The left side of the house was blocked by a few oak trees and bushes. It wasn't dense enough to cover the house, but just enough to set the property boundaries. In the dark, it was the perfect place to hide behind. We were at least twenty yards from away. 

"Now, we wait," Romero muttered to himself with a sigh. 

He shut off the engine, the interior lights went dark, and we were hidden in the night. 

"Do you have the papers?" I said, turning to look at him. The only light source came from the nearly full moon in the sky. It was pale on his tan skin. 

"In the glove compartment," He instructed, keeping his eyes on the house.

I leaned over and popped open the chamber, where a stack of papers and a few CDs, was all I could feel with my hand. The contract was stapled together, but it was difficult to make out the small print in the dark.

"They agree with all your terms. None of the information you give us on the mc can be used against them in a court of law. However, any drug-related crime that may occur with the Camilo Cartel is still our jurisdiction."  

I planned to stop that before it could happen. If it got that far, then I have already failed them. 

"What are their conditions?" I asked, knowing very well that they would have a few. 

"That you don't withhold any information," His voice was skeptical of that happening. He turned my way but looked back forward before I could do the same. "You also can't take part in any illegal activity, or report yourself as a D.E.A agent." 

The D.E.A was very particular about their image, having someone like me on their team, had to be kept confidential. But I didn't care. I wasn't doing this for any kind of recognition on their part. 

"I'll also be administrating you a drug test every week for the remainder of the investigation," When considering my past, it was no wonder why Romero and the higher-ups were cautious. “If any of these rules are broken, the deal goes out the door.”

I was an agent who was never meant to see the light of day in this job. I was a gamble, and they desperately needed the odds to go in their favor. 

I was being observed on either side of this situation. My will had to be strong to voluntarily put myself in this position. Trusted by no one, and yet, needed by everyone- I was the help no one wanted to thank. 

I grabbed the pen that was sticking out of the cup holder between us. Turning to the very last page, where at the bottom, was a line waiting for my signature. 

When I scribbled my name onto that piece of paper, I felt as if I was sighing my own death certificate. 

"(Y/n)..."

His voice had shifted into a low pitch, steady and cautious. I turned to see what had triggered this behavior. I followed his gaze, out his window, to the dirt road we had just stirred out of. There was a black van stalking down the path, with its lights shut off in the middle of the darkness. 

"Oh shit," I whispered. Even from this far away, at night, I could make out Taehyung's familiar head through the passenger window. "What do we do?"

"Nothing." He was firm, eyes glued to the movement of the approaching vehicle. "Absolutely nothing,"

He looked back at me to ensure that what he spoke was understood thoroughly. "No matter what happens- we cannot interfere, (Y/n)."

That meant, even if someone got hurt. 

"Okay," I responded. 

Though, I worried that my emotions were still much out of my control. I wanted to do my job, but I was being asked to stand by and do nothing. 

"They're passing the house," Romero stated. 

It was getting more difficult to see through the thin patch of wilderness that protected us. The road, directly in front of the driveway was almost impossible to see. Especially, with such a dark vehicle and no headlights. 

"They aren't going to park in the driveway," I thought as I spoke. "The van would be right in the line of the crossfire." 

"But if they leave the driveway open, there is a chance for the PB to escape." He contradicted. 

They must have known that, so why would they do it anyway? Were they that confidante that they could take them out? 

Our eyes stared into the darkness of the driveway. The dirt leading up to the house was visible enough to see shapes and shadows the ground. We watched for any sudden movement on either part. I also tried to foresee the plan that Bangtan had in motion.

"Unless they want them to," I suggested.

"What are you talking about?" He wasn't very convinced. "This is supposed to be retaliation for the shooting at your house."

"But killing foot soldiers who run a small lab isn't much of a statement." I know the idea didn’t make any sense, and I didn't know what the right answer was but there was something we were missing. I was sure of it.

"A lab in Blackburn, (Y/n)." He sounded annoyed by my doubts. "That goes against their deal, of course, they are going to kill everyone in that building!"

Romero simply assumed that I was sugar-coating the events that were about to take place. That I didn't want to see Bangtan for the killers they were. But I knew that they were much more than that. 

Brains before bullets. 

That is what hung behind the table of their meeting room. They weren't some unorganized street gang. There was a reason they had made it so far in the arms dealing business. 

I wasn't known for holding my tongue during an argument, however, we both were quick to do so. 

There were four male figures quickly approaching the house. They were dressed from head to toe in black, shielding their face, and wearing ski masks. There was a large gap between where they stood and the red house. 

"Where are the other three?" Romero asked as we continued to watch. I wasn't sure, but I thought I could make out shadows in the bushes at the front of the driveway. 

Based solely on height and posture, I thought I could make out Jimin and Taehyung. The other two could have been Jungkook and Yoongi. Though, that didn't matter for long. The figure I deemed to be Taehyung, looked back to the bushes, where I had seen the shadows. He seemed to be making sure everything was set. 

Then he nodded to the others beside him.

All four figures brought a KG9 below their chests. Their aim was the building right in front of them, and the night seemed so calm before they pulled the trigger.

Fully automatic weapons ripped through the silence, the flashes coming from their muzzles were like the Fourth of July. 

Even this far, the sound surprised me. It illuminated the surrounding ground as if a lightning storm had formed on Earth's surface. The details of their black clothing were visible with every burst of light. I could make out each individual set of eyes glowing in the dark. 

The windows into the house were pierced and shattered by the ammunition. The boys began to step back, slowly, keeping their fingers tight around the trigger. It didn't take long to hear the response of those who were inside. 

The front door was kicked open, out came pouring about five or six PB members. All they had to buy them some time were a few FN-57s while they made a run for it. By that time, the four bodies were seeking cover behind a large stake severed tree trunks. The other three came out as their replacement, returning fire while the others reloaded. 

The PB made it into their truck, two in the front, and three in the exposed back. All of them continued shooting except for the one in the driver's seat; his shadow was frantically attempting to get the engine started. The wheels screeched dirt into the air, almost as loud are the gunshots.

The truck shot down the driveway, threatening to run over anything in its path. Though the blasts remained, I couldn't see any indication of injured bodies. 

"What the hell is this..." I heard Romero say as the scene unfolded right before our eyes. 

All of the seven boys gathered in front of the house. Three of them ran into the open residence, while the rest stayed on the lookout. 

"They aren't going after them," I stated. I felt relieved seeing that the dangerous part had passed. However, the question remained, what were they going to do now?

"This doesn't make any sense," Romero sounded irritated. 

My eyes remained on the outside figures, taking note of the tall man with long legs. The others seemed to be working around him. Namjoon was the only one who ever stood that way, with so much authority.

The other three members came out of the house shortly. It appeared to have exchanged some words as they walked down the porch. They didn't appear to be worried about any other unwanted company. They felt safe enough, that they removed their masks. 

Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook were the three that searched the house. They gathered around the rest of the guys in conversation. 

"What the hell are they doing?" Romero asked me directly. He looked at me as if I had all the answers. 

"I don't know, " I assured him.

In between the group, stood Hoseok, with a black box in the grip of his hand. We watched carefully as he handed the mysterious case to Jimin. Jungkook stood at his side and encouragingly patted his shoulder.

The group disbanded. Everyone began to make their way back down the driveway, their feet racing to the shelter behind the bushes. 

Everyone, except for Jimin. 

He, instead, returned into the house with the case in his hand. I thought about anything and everything in that house that could be valuable. Something that would be worth risking their lives to obtain. The only thing in there, that could be worth anything, was the methamphetamine they were manufacturing. 

"They're taking the drugs," Romero reached the same conclusion I had. But why would they? Bangtan did not need it.

"They're going to sell it themselves," He told me. The tone of his voice was almost positive as if he was happy for me to see them in a bad light.

"No," I replied, even though it wasn't a question. "That can't be it,"

When I looked at Romero, he was watching me with aggravation, my constant denial of all his claims were frustrating him. 

"(Y/n), look at them!" He raised his tone. "They didn't break into a drug lab to leave empty-handed!"

His words fell on deaf ears, there was nothing he could say to change my mind. I knew, in my gut, that it wasn't the case, but I couldn't escape the dreadful feeling beside it. 

"If you can't start to see them for what they are- we're going to have some serious-"

"Wait-" Just then, the idea clicked in my head. My heart began to race, like a drum line marching in my chest. The dread in my stomach was replaced with pure terror. His racing figure was running out the front door. I gasped, 

"Jimin!" 

It was as if daylight had emitted from the house. It was as blinding as the sun and powerful as a volcano. The explosion trembled the atmosphere, the ground rumbled and shook the vehicle. Romero's arm reached over me, instinctively, shielding me from any threatening shock-waves.

The house was set ablaze. It was an empty shell of stone, consumed by smoke and fire. There was so much smoke that it was difficult to see any details on the ground. It was a sight straight from the underworld. 

After the initial fright, a new one consumed me entirely. 

"Oh my god, Jimin..." 

I re-assembled in my seat and directly lunged for the door. My hand wrapped around the handle and it clicked open.

"(Y/n)!" 

Romero surged forward, grasping for the base of the window, and slamming the door shut. "You can't."

"B-but he-" I stuttered with panic.

"He made it out of the house, (Y/n)." He tried to soothe me, spoke to me calmly and reassuringly. 

"What the fuck is he thinking?!" My head spun with a muddle of fright and anger. "Why wouldn't he use a remote detonator?! Is he insane?!"

I yelled as if Romero would care about their well-being. He watched me panic and fear for the safety of Jimin. I continued to search for movement through the cloud of dust and smoke.

"Maybe... there was no time?" He suggested, trying to figure it out for profiling purposes. "This was just decided today."

I understood that they felt the need to act fast, but that didn't mean they had to act recklessly. Putting Jimin's life in danger like that was idiotic. The worst part was that it was probably his idea in the first place. I could imagine him declare that he had it perfectly under control. 

"Look," Romero called.

A strong wind had come toward the property, blowing the smoke toward the back of the home, and leaving the front clear for sight. I made out Taehyung's form running toward the house, where, getting up from the floor was Jimin. 

I sighed a deep relief in my chest that was almost overwhelming. Taehyung ran up to Jimin, placing his hands on his shoulders and checking on him. Once Jimin reassured him that he was alright, Taehyung assisted in getting away from the burning building as fast as possible. 

"Goddamn idiot..." I cursed him for scaring me. I never wanted to so badly hurt, and embrace, someone in the same breath. 

-

After that, the events that followed were rather simple. Bangtan gathered themselves and left the property as soon as Jimin was on his feet. Even in that rush of violence, it was nothing compared to what they could have done. All they left behind was a single drop of the rage that fueled them. That was the warning they were leaving for the PB.

Agent Romero and I didn't speak much on our return to 18th and Charming street. There was tension inside of the vehicle that made the silence appear like the best selection. 

I assumed we were both left with a confusing haze in the back of our heads. Nothing of what we expected had happened tonight. His knowledge of a field agent didn't assist him in this investigation. Neither did my connection with the members of the club. We were left to re-think everything we thought we knew. 

"How did you know?" He asked out of the blue. We were merely two blocks away from my drop-off point. 

My gaze turned away from the deserted stores that drifted away, as we passed them by. His exterior appeared unbothered as if he had continued our streak of silence. 

"Know what?" His question was unclear. 

He remained expressionless and without any new movement. I almost questioned if he said anything at all, but he was only hesitating. 

"How did you know Bangtan wouldn't kill them?" He asked more specifically. He asked as if I had some kind of psychic vision into the future. 

"I- I don't know," I replied, honestly. I could have explained it as some kind of outlaw intuition. "It just didn't feel like they would..."

I knew that wasn't helpful, nor something he wanted to hear. His distrust in me came from the connection I held with the club. Especially now, I've been home after so long. But it was the truth, they weren't as thoughtless as outsiders thought. 

It was easy for Romero to group Bangtan with every other organization he's dealt with before. That would be his downfall, though. Bangtan was different. 

"Why would they wear masks- if they planned on killing everyone?" 

Romero turned his head at my rhetorical question. That detail was the only thing I took notice of. However, I wasn't sure when I precisely figured it out. 

"So, why didn't they kill them?" He asked, actually looking for my opinion this time. "Why would they let everyone go and just blow up the place?"

That was the question we needed to figure out. I understood that it wasn't the typical response for a gang. Especially for Bangtan, who were capable of doing much more damage. 

"If they covered their identities, then it means they don't want the PB to know it was them," I stated the obvious. Romero nodded his head and agreed. 

"Who else could they blame it on?" He continued the train of thought. 

"The Camilo Cartel is the only significant group that is fighting against the PB," I mentioned, as they were the only ones that mattered. Was Bangtan trying to put the blame on them?

"Blowing up a lab and letting people escape in the process, isn't part of the cartel’s MO," Romero pointed out. "They are more 'cut off your limbs' type of organization."

The visual idea gave me chills. "Do you think the club would know that?"

"I don't know, maybe it could have slipped their mind," I thought to myself, recalling back to their brilliant idea of manually detonating the bomb from the inside, instead of having an outside detonator. 

When time had passed after my words, I figured he didn't need any more convincing of my observation. We continued our silent drive.

The street was exactly as we had left it hours ago. No cars in sight and the only light came from the street lamps that lined the sidewalk. His car came to a gentle stop and lazily pulled into the curb. 

"I apologize about before," He said before I made a move to the door. I watched him sigh in the seat. "I just thought that you-"

"I know," He didn't have to explain himself. It was easy to see that his trust in me was delicate. "You aren't the first person to question everything I do." 

I didn't mean for my exit to sound so dramatic, but there was nothing else he could say. I knew how to function under the opposition of those around me, it wouldn't stop me from doing what I had to do. 

I let the passenger door shut behind me. A cool breeze ran up my arms as I stepped onto the empty road. My father's Dyna sat, waiting for me, exactly where I had left it. 

The streetlight above illuminated the bike, like a sentence from God, its metallic structure reflected the luminosity. I mounted the machine, its seat feeling cold under my weight. 

"Hey," Romero had rolled down his window. His face was almost canceled by the shadow that his roof cast. I met his black eyes. 

"Next time, I'll listen to your judgment," He spoke with a bit of shame in his voice. "You did good work today... thank you." 

I rode off feeling satisfied that night.

-

The night had gone by quickly once I returned to the House of Cards. I arrived at the crowded bar but was vacant of any comforting life. There wasn't much left for me to do than to sleep for the night, in hopes, of being a different person in the morning.  

It didn't take long for daybreak to come by the sheer curtains of the two windows. The light illuminated my face, making my body stir within the sea of bed-sheets. I had forgotten the benefits of getting a good night's rest. 

I also underestimated the blessings of a warm hot shower. All the past tension and worries of the past few days were stripped away with the heat. After the events of yesterday, I was expecting today to be more on the ordinary side. I was praying for it. 

It was early in the morning, and the bar wouldn't be open until noon. Which meant I had until then to be alone and collect my settling thoughts. There were so many blurred lines I could not see the edges to, where I stood in certain situations. My job, the club, my worries, the doubts; they all seemed to merge into one. An unhealthy mixture of morals that contradict one another, they fought for the steering wheel that was my life.

When I stepped out of the room, feeling rejuvenated, I thought I would walk into a peaceful, empty space. However, I was met with a quite disturbing sight, instead. 

"Mornin, sweetheart." 

Jaeeun was seated at the edge of the bar. She wore a pair of reading glasses, resting low on the bridge of her nose, and a stack of papers in her hands. Even the terms of endearment that came from her mouth seemed to be demeaning. 

What had I done to deserve such misfortune?

"Morning," I replied shortly after the shock, walking toward the back of the bar, where the coffee machine had become enticing. 

There was a freshly brewed pot already made, the black liquid was threatening hot, and a third of the way full. I found a few empty mugs right beside the machine and poured a cup tentatively. 

"There's some food there," She spoke directly behind me. 

I looked over my shoulder and spotted the plastic bag not far beside her on the bar. The bag held no identifying writing, simply a 'thank you' printed in red. I was wary of accepting food from Jaeeun. I could not see her missing out on a chance to poison me. My suspicious eye was no secret. "Namjoon brought it,"

She rolled her eyes at me as if she would actually bother, but I was sure she would. The possibility of her lying crossed my mind. However, my stomach was rumbling for anything, even if it was poison. I would die happily for whatever smelled that good. 

I took a seat two stools from her, using a napkin as a coaster, and digging into the bag. It was a standard breakfast platter, barely at that point between warm and room temperature. My mouth watered at the sight.

While I stuffed food down my throat, Jaeeun remained silent and inspected her documents, and my mind began to wonder. 

"Namjoon's here?" I tried to remain casual as if Namjoon wasn't one of the topics raging through my mind. Jaeeun saw right through me, of course.

"He was," Her eyes remained glued on the paper. "He mentioned I would find you here,"

The bitter tone in her voice was a clear indication that she was not pleased with my new living arrangement. Hell, if it were up to her, I wouldn't be living at all. 

"I'm not staying here for free," I felt the need to explain myself. 

"Believe me, I don't want to know how you'll be repaying him." She said suggestively. 

Heat rose to my face immediately, as I had trouble swallowing my food at her words. I imagined, in her head, I was doing all I could do to be close to Namjoon. Though it was not completely wrong, it was not for the reason she thought.

"It's not like that," I muttered, embarrassed that the words embarrassed me in the first place. "I'm going to be helping him with the bar."

The scoff from her lips seemed unconvinced by my statement. She simply thought I was lusting to ruin her life. Explaining that it was not all about her would be a mission impossible. Her narcissistic behavior would not allow her to believe anything else, even if it was the truth.

"What are you even still doing here?" She spat, finally blessing me with her piercing eyes. "Do you really have nothing to go back to?"

One would think I would have grown accustomed to Jaeeun’s spiteful words. But there was always something about her that just struck a nerve. It was a never-ending argument with her, and I had even lost my appetite.

"You know, you seem to be spending a lot of energy worrying about my life." I wished I was as composed as her, but my anger was rising to the surface, and she loved to see it. 

"I don't care about your life," Jaeeun smirked and removed her glasses, making sure nothing would distort the resentment emanating from her eyes. "Just the people you dare to touch." 

She settled her feet on the floor underneath, her leather heel boots clicking on the tile surface. Her body followed in walking toward me, wanting me to squirm in my seat, with each step. She granted herself the open seat beside me, giving our conversation the attention I didn't want.

"Namjoon has enough going on," She warned me. "He just lost a father for the second time." 

She pulled out a single cigarette from behind her ear, holding it between her fingers and looked at me like I was nothing. "He already inherited his responsibilities- he doesn't need his burden too." 

Sometimes I underestimated just how terrible she could be. Her lips painted dark stained the foot of the cigarette. A lighter flickered a heat source for her to enjoy her taunting with an extra kick. 

I swallowed my temper and dared to remind her,

"I'm not the one looking for him." 

 She continued to hold her poker face as if she already knew. Her porcelain cheeks hollowed in with a smooth drag, nicotine was like oxygen for her lungs.

"His head is twisted, he doesn't know what he wants." She justified him, smoke escaping passed her lips, unworried. 

"And you do?" I asked her to see the absurdity that I did. "You can't dictate his life forever, Jaeeun."

I was gravely mistaken. Jaeeun believed, wholeheartedly, that she could. Namjoon might not have known but his mother's influence was always there. In her eyes that was not about to change. My very doubt meant challenging her. 

"I’m his mother, and until I am dead and cold, I'm going to do anything I have to do to protect him." Her voice went from taunting to threatening. The words practically hissed out of her mouth, then I remembered what Jimin told me.

"I must really scare you, huh?"

I found a smile sneaking onto my lips at the thought. Jaeeun was much less frightening when she let her emotions seep through, it reminded me that she was human as well. 

"You're a greedy whore," Her black eyes leaned in, her poisonous tongue whispered like an empty threat. "And bad shit happens to greedy whores."

Her aggressiveness only confirmed my suspicions. 

She flicked her young cigarette into my mug of coffee, tainting the drink with its ash, before rising from her spot. While watching her walk back to her stack of papers, I realized I was not left with the same drained feeling that our conversations had in the past.

In the stillness of our talk, I began to see us for what we truly were, just two little girls fighting for the attention of a man. Even with her age, it never stopped being that, and I was going down the same path. 

In a normal relationship, two people entrust each other to respect the love that they share. That meant listening, understanding, and being faithful. That, however, was not the deal when it came to an mc like Bangtan. Women were objects to share, possessions to show off, comfort to lean on when times got hard. If you were able to marry one of them, you got the title of old lady, which just meant you belonged to one specific member. But even as with an old lady, their picking of women did not stop, if anything, it increased. Groupies that hung around the club wanted nothing more than to get that title. The security that a relationship was supposed to give you was nonexistent.

Jaeeun had been the president's old lady, that came with a lot of respect and constant threats. It was a fight for your place, or someone might take it, which is why she was so defensive. I don't think she was ready to give that up just yet.

"How did you handle it?" I was curious about how someone could live like this for so many years. If I had never left, I probably wouldn't have noticed. "This life is intoxicating- it kills you from the inside out while giving you the best high of your life."

Jaeeun didn't respond aggressively to the question. In fact, it appeared to cause a deep stage of nostalgia, taking her back to the struggles that this life brought her. True wisdom conceived by the most painful teacher- experience.

"There are only two ways an old lady makes it in this life," She answered quietly. When her eyes locked with mine, I found a different kind of hate within them. "You tell her nothing or you tell her everything."

I imagined neither option was comfortable to live with. But I knew that if you loved the man, then you learned to love the life. Then there was no truth you couldn't handle. 

"You have no idea what it takes- what it will cost you to be his old lady."

Jaeeun looked at me with pity, with actual pity from a place of true understanding. 

"Old ladies can make or break a club, (Y/n)." She shook her head. When she spoke, it was no longer an attempt to scare me away. For the first time, I felt that she was being sincere, even if it isn't what I wanted to hear. "You'll ruin him."

"You don't know that," But neither did I. 

I had always been so disinterested in love. This way of life dissolved any chance for trust. The choices seemed to be, live as a fool or be doomed to die alone. Jaeeun had made her choice a long time ago.

"I know that you need someone to tell you the truth," She once again approached me. This time, as if she wanted to comfort me from her own words. "Namjoon and you, together, are a recipe for disaster." 

The silence that followed had never been so tormenting, the notion of not even knowing why was alarming. Why? Why when I wasn't even supposed to care? Namjoon represented everything I hated about this life; the secrets, the lies, the sexism, the violence. He was forbidden, just like my rightful place in the club. 

Why did I only want what I could not have?

Then, like the sick joke that was my life, the doors to the bar opened, and his presence came into the room. I didn’t have to even turn around to know, for certain, that it was him. I only ever felt this way when he was around.

"You should get out while you have the chance, sweetheart." Jaeeun whispered as she walked past me.

In a tunnel-like hearing, I could make out Namjoon and her greeting each other. She informed him that she was on her way out. The words they spoke faded in and out as I realized Jaeeun was giving me no time to contemplate. She would be leaving us alone, forcing me to make a decision right here, right now.

The doors closed, and I could feel it was just the two of us now.

Masterlist ≽

[is0gild]

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 2

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 6,462

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

The first thought I had when I woke up was…

 ...who the heck painted my ceiling green?!

Because last I checked, it was a midnight blue… or maybe more of a cobalt blue?  Azure, possibly…?

Whatever it was, it was most definitely not green.

I narrowed my eyes up at it groggily before deciding I didn’t care and rolled over in bed, curling onto my side.  Which led me to my second question…

...where had this frigging baby crib next to my nightstand come from and what the actual frick was it doing in my room?

No… forget the crib… what was the deal with the absolute mountain of Huggies boxes stacked up behind it?

Either this had to be just one of the weirdest, dumbest, not to mention lamest pranks Anna had ever pulled on me or…

...or this wasn’t my room.

I shot up in bed, wide eyes darting about.  Yup, definitely not my room.  Not unless I had decided to do a few home improvements in my sleep and say, I don’t know, move my door to the total opposite wall.  Or how about the entirely different furniture, complete with a giant shelf packed tight with more baby books than a person could possibly ever need in one lifetime?  Then of course there was that heaping pile of toys and stuffed animals stacked in one corner. Did I mention the sheer amount of Huggies? Because dear god, the Huggies…

I was going to have nightmares about drowning in an endless sea of them, mark my word.

It was as I was shuddering at that mental image that it finally all came rushing back to me and I gasped - my wedding! My escape! My shoplifting! My breakdown on Rayne’s doorstep! My-

Wait, wait, go back… Rayne!

...that’s probably where I was.  Still in her apartment.  But… I didn’t remember this room… not walking into it, not even so much as a glimpse of it, just… not at all...

Placing a cool hand to my forehead, I searched my muddled brain some more for the details of what happened last night. Or, seemingly last night anyway, if the early morning light streaming in through the window curtains was any clue.  I remembered… her inviting me in… discovering she was married and expecting, which would somewhat explain the almost disturbing amount of diapers… and then I’d-

Oh dear lord, I had utterly and one hundred percent lost my absolute marbles.  Oh gosh, what must she think of me…

I couldn’t remember much after that. Nothing, in fact. My memories just abruptly stopped. Had I... fainted?

Well I wasn’t going to get any answers if I kept hiding in here. Even less so if I curled up into a ball under the covers and waited for the earth to swallow me and my shame up whole, as lovely and tempting a thought as that sounded.

Sighing, I put one bare foot on the carpet, then the other and reluctantly arose. I spotted my… well... “my” ankle boots tucked neatly next to one of the bedpost legs, prompting me to look down at myself to see that I was still in the, erm… borrowed sundress, now thoroughly wrinkled.  My hair was still in its braid, though calling it that would have been generous as it was now more just one big frazzled knot.  Tossing it back over my shoulder with a sigh, I approached the door, reaching a hand out towards it. My fingers hovered over the knob, hesitating for a split second before twisting it open and stepping out.

A rapid click-clack filled the air as I quietly stepped into the familiar living room from the night before.  It didn’t take long to spot the source. Rayne was seated at the table in the dining space, fingers quickly tapping away at her laptop keys. She looked like she had just gotten out of bed, still in pyjamas and her hair thrown into a loose, messy bun at the nape of her neck.  She had a pencil tucked behind one ear and the light from the screen reflected off the lenses of her black-rimmed glasses, her entire focus trained on her work. 

“Morning, sunshine,” she chirped, not looking up nor putting the brakes on her typing.  “Be with ya in just a sec.”

“Take your time,” I murmured, not wanting to interrupt whatever she was in the middle of. I figured it was the very least I could do after having a total core meltdown in her living room yesterday.

Not quite sure what to do with myself in the meantime, I once more reached for the tangled-mess-formerly-known-as-braid that was my hair, idly toying with it as I glanced around. It didn’t seem like there was much more to the apartment than what I’d already seen.  To my right, there was a short hallway with three more doors, each closed. Presumably one another bedroom where the happy couple slept, one a restroom, which would make the third a…?

Letting my curiosity get the better of me, I stretched a hand out towards the nearest mystery door to take a quick peek.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Rayne sing-songed while otherwise still fully engrossed in her laptop.

I froze, fingertips brushing the doorknob as I turned my head to blink at her.  Then I pursed my lips to one side.  “...closet bursting full of baby diapers?”

Her typing abruptly silenced and she directed an eyebrow quirk my way.  “Actually, yes. How did you know?”

“Wild guess,” I said dryly.  “I’m sorry, did you say you were having a baby or a litter?”

“Shush, you, I’m nesting,” she harrumphed, fingers blurring across the keyboard once more.

For now, maybe it’d be better if I kept my hands to myself. Who knew what other potential death traps Macguyvered out of baby paraphernalia lurked about this place?  Hugging myself, I trudged over to the dining table, took a seat opposite of Rayne and waited.

Hardly another minute ticked by before she gave a satisfied final tap to the laptop.  “Annnnnnd done!” she beamed, clicking the device shut.  She then leaned forward, resting her elbows atop the table and propping her chin on her interlaced fingers as she regarded me.  “So…”

“So…” I fidgeted some more with my frazzled knot, averting my gaze. “...on a scale of one to off-my-rocker, how crazy did I sound last night?”

She closed her eyes with a bright grin.  “Oh, you were batshit, sweetpea.”

I winced.  “That’s... what I thought.  Sorry.”

“Don’t be!” she brushed it off with a flick of her hand.  “It was the most excitement I’ve had in weeks, so actually I’m a little grateful.”

My mouth twisted into a wry grin.  “Well then… you’re welcome, I guess. I’m glad my neurotic episode could brighten an otherwise dull moment in your life.”

“Oh hush, you know I love you.” Crossing her arms, she leaned back in her chair with a sigh.  “Now it was a bit hard to keep up, but let me see if I got the gist here.  You,” she struck up a finger, “were going to get married…”

I hung my head, “Yeah.”

Another digit rose.  “...but realized you didn’t love him…”

My shoulders slouched as I sunk down in my seat, my voice getting smaller as I said, “...yeah.”

Up went the third.  “...that you never loved him…”

Grimacing, I slumped forward, pressing my face into the table, “Uh huh…”

“...and so you dumped him at the altar.”

I groaned, banging my forehead against the hard, wooden surface.  “I am the worst.”

“Aw, sweetheart, no.” The scraping of her chair against the floor could be heard as she scooched around the table closer to me before I felt her hand rubbing light circles against my back.  “You… just got scared is all, and you panicked… I mean, really? You did the right thing.”  I turned my head, resting my cheek against the table now as I gave her a dull stare.  She pressed on hastily, “No, seriously! If you’d had stayed, you wouldn’t have been happy.  He wouldn’t have been happy.  It would have been a terrible marriage, your lives would have been miserable… really, you did him a favor!  I mean, sure, could you have handled the break up a bit better?” Her face scrunched up slightly before she flung her hands up in the air with a shrug.  “...Maybe?”

“Ugh!” I full on faceplanted into table once more.  “The absolute worst! I deserve to be locked in a tiny, cramped box filled with spiders and worms and dung beetles and moldy, rotten eggs and, and anchovies and-”

“Sweetie, sweetie, you’re spiraling again,” she cut me off gently, taking hold of my shoulder and pulling me back to sit up straight once more and look her in the eye.  “The point is, I’m sure he’ll understand.”  My eyelids drooped at her.  “Eventually! I’m sure he’ll understand eventually. Just… give him some time, let this whole thing blow over, then you two can talk. Get some closure. Okay?”

I looked down at my lap with a sigh and just gave a weak, noncommittal shrug.

“Okay then.  Now,” she hesitated, gnawing her lower lip.  “...can I ask… when you made a run for it, why of all places did you come to my apartment?  I’m always, always here for you, you know I am, but it’s been… god, I don’t even know how long… years since we even last spoke. You didn’t have someone else, any other friends or anyone you could have turned to?”

I swallowed hard and slowly shook my head.  “I don’t… have any friends. Not really. It’s… always been hard for me to make them. I’ve just never been good with people. You remember how I was as a child back when we were at summer camp, all nervous and awkward and hardly able to string two words together.”

She gave me a small smile.  “Yeah, and all the other kids didn’t even give you a chance, just figured you were some snooty, rich brat who thought yourself better than them and couldn’t see you were just shy.” Her grin turned a touch wicked. “I pummeled them good though and made them regret ever picking on you.”

One corner of my mouth twitched upward and I nodded. “I was always so thankful for your friendship.  I’m… sorry we drifted apart over the years.”

“S’okay,” she waved a dismissive hand. “We lived so far apart from each other, only seeing each other every summer.  It’s just something that happens sometimes as people grow older, I suppose. But hey… looks like we’re not quite done with each other yet.”

“Guess not,” I chuckled softly before my face sunk into a frown once more. “I never did get any better at making friends.  Everyone I know now… they’re all my parent’s friends… or they're his friends…”

She tipped her head to one side.  “His?”

I gave her a pointed look.  “Him.”

“Oh. The dumpee.  Right.”

“They’re all just… they’re not people I really know, they’re… acquaintances, you know? And they’re all from munny, they’re all from that world, they were all at the wedding, they… none of them would have understood. Except for Anna, but she still lives with Mother and Father, so best she could do was help me escape. But after that?”  I fell silent, shaking my head.

Her brow furrowed.  “What about your home? Couldn’t you have gone there?”

I gave a derisive snort. “With what munny? I fled in my wedding dress, so I didn’t even have my phone on me, much less my wallet, so it’s not exactly like I could've called an Uber. Besides, even if I could have, that’d have been the last place I went.  My parents pay for my condo and after what I’ve done, I can’t face them. Not ever again. I’m never going back… Mother, Father, my old life, all of it... it’s the past now.” My face hardened as I murmured, “The past is in the past.”

She blinked at me a couple times.  “Don’t you think you’re maybe being a bit over dramatic? It’s your parents. They love you, no matter what. I mean, sure, maybe they’ll be a lil pissed, but-”

“No, you don’t understand,” I shook my head with a scowl. “What I’ve done… I did it in front of all their friends, their colleagues, their… I’ve embarrassed them in front of so many important people. And don’t even get me started on how much they spent on the wedding that I didn’t even show up to,” I grimaced, now squeezing the giant knot that was my hair.  “I had a… we had… they had a plan for me, for my whole future, and I just… blew it all up and threw it back in their faces. So no, they won’t just be pissed, they’ll be furious… we’re talking yelling, screaming, we’re talking Hulk smash, we’re talking end of days, wrath raining down from the heavens kind of mad here. They’re going to cut me off and…” I gulped, slumping down further into my chair, eyes downcast as I whispered, “...and disown me.”

Rayne placed a hand on top of one of mine and I glanced up at her again as she said, “You should call them. But maybe… just give them a little time to cool off first?  In the meantime, it’s a good thing you found me again.” She smiled and I couldn’t help a tiny one of my own in return.  With a couple pats to my hand, she added, “What luck you chose my town to get hitched in, huh? Talk about coincidence! What would you have even done if you’d decided to pull your lil disappearing act in a whole other city?”

“Actually, we were deciding between a few venues in different cities to host the ceremony in.”  I frowned thoughtfully.  “But something kept pulling me back to Radiant Garden in Twilight Town. I think… it was because of you. Subconsciously, I was already planning an escape route weeks ago. You were already my way out, my rope made of blankets hanging out a window, it just... took me a while to realize it, I suppose.”

“Well, happy to be your blanket rope any day, boo,” she tapped my nose with a grin.  “A lil warning next time would be nice though, kay? Ya know, just a quick heads up, something like, ‘hey, I’m planning on making like a banana and splitting from my own wedding and need a place to crash’ will do.”

I breathed a short laugh.  “Noted, though I don’t really plan on making a habit of this.”

“Speaking of plans, any ideas what your next step’ll be? What exactly is your plan here?”

“Ugh, don’t get me started,” I rolled my eyes. “Already had this talk with my reflection yesterday and trust me, she was totally useless.”  Rayne stared at me blankly and I cocked my head at her.  “What?”

“...context, sweetie.”

“Oh, right.” I suppose there were still a few dots that I needed to connect for her.  “Well… after Anna helped me escape, I needed a change of clothes. If I kept parading around town in my wedding gown, it probably wouldn’t have been long before my parents tracked me down. Luckily, first store I stumbled across was a used clothing shop. After I changed into this,” I gestured towards the crinkled mess of a sundress I was wearing, “right then and there in the dressing room is when my panic attack went into full swing and I sort of got into a lively debate with the mirror about where my future was heading. That was about as effective as you might imagine,” I grumbled the last part.  “But then I thought of you and asked the person working there for a phone book.”

“Ah.” She looked past me to the coffee table in the living room, where the White Pages had been left, still rumpled but now dried of my tears.  “That explains that, I guess. But… it’s a phone book, why didn’t you just call-” She paused abruptly, eyes lighting up as it clicked.  “...busted phone?”

I nodded. “Busted phone.”

Her eyebrows knit together now, voice quaking with hardly contained laughter as she asked, “So the next logical step to you was to steal the phone book?”

My eyes darted to the left. “...yeah.”

“As opposed to, ya know, borrowing a pencil and jotting down the addresses on a scrap of paper? Like a sane person?”

I huffed out a soft growl, wrenching at my tangled knot once more.  “Hi, have you met me? Not good with people, remember? My brain just shuts down and I get all, I dunno… chicken with its head cut off. And being on the lam after going rogue on my wedding day? Did not help matters when it came to thinking straight, believe me.”

She snerked, ruffling my bangs.  “Oh you poor, sweet, socially inept weirdo you! If it makes you feel any better, you’re in good company. As you might recall, I myself am about as eloquent as a potato.”

“But twice as pretty,” a third voice chimed in and we looked over just as Riku used his foot to shut the front door behind him, smirk in place and bearing a styrofoam cup carrier tray with three steaming drinks in it.

“Rude,” Rayne deadpanned, removing the pencil from behind her ear to flick it at him.

He sidestepped it without breaking stride, lips twitching wider. “Not even. You know how pretty I think potatoes are.”

“Dork,” she shook her head as he came to a stop next to her and planted a kiss atop her forehead, depositing one of the drinks on the table in front of her. 

These two? Actually kind of adorable.

But also… ugh. Love. Gross.

She smiled, bringing the cup up to her nose with a curious sniff. “Mmmmm, pumpkin spice? How did you manage to swing that this time of year?”

“Aqua,” he said, making his way over towards me now but eyes still on his wife. “She’s squirreled away a secret stash in the back just for you.”

“Bless that woman, she’s an absolute angel,” she sighed happily, blowing on the beverage before taking a cautious sip.

He gave the two remaining cups a quick glance before handing one to me with a friendly grin.  “A little birdie told me you’re a fan of peppermint.”

“You remembered,” my eyes crinkled as I looked to Rayne, who merely winked at me. I felt the pleasant warmth from the cup seep into my fingers as I inhaled the aroma deeply. Sure enough, it was some sort of minty mocha blend. I gazed up at Riku, managing a shy, tiny smile.  “Thank you. I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” he brushed off. “By the way, we haven’t officially been introduced yet. I’m-”

“Riku,” I nodded. “That much at least managed to slip past the fog of crazy and reach my brain yesterday… nice to meet you. Looks like you already know me by now,” I held up the drink he’d gifted me, pointing to where Elsa was scrawled in sharpie across it.  Then I grimaced somewhat as I put it down on the table, fingers playing with the coffee sleeve wrapped around the cup.  It had a grinning feline face printed on it with the words Lucky Cat Café printed underneath. “...sorry by the way... about last night.”

“Don’t be. You have nothing to be sorry for. Sounds like you were in a tough spot and needed a friend.” He stood beside Rayne once more, resting a tender hand on her back as she leaned into him a bit.  “And any friend of Ray’s is a friend of mine. Happy to help in whatever way we can.”

“Thanks…” I murmured, still staring hard at my to-go cup.  The side opposite of the logo had a small blurb of a story recanting how before it became a chain, the first Lucky Cat was a humble little shop in San Fransokyo run by a woman and her two nephews. “...you’re both too kind, really…” I paused with a sigh and a shake of my head, “but I’ve imposed on you both too much already. Thank you so much for letting me stay the night, but I couldn’t possibly ask for anything more from either of you. In fact, I should just go.  Just… give me a few minutes to get myself together and then I’ll leave you both in peace again.”

Rayne narrowed her eyes at me. “You will do no such thing!”

I rose from my chair, “No, seriously, it’s okay. You don’t have to worry about me, I’ll be fine. I’ll figure something out.”

What though? Good question. Was still working on that part.

Her eyelids drooped as she set an elbow on the table and leaned forward.  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you still have a bit of a munny problem, as in you don’t have any.”

I gave a weak laugh and shrugged, “Psh, details.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “And just where do you think you’ll sleep while you’re broke off your ass?”

“I have… prospects…”

“...that wouldn’t have anything to do with the box you mentioned yesterday?”

My eyes shifted.  “And Carol, can’t forget about her.”

Somehow, Rayne did not look reassured.  “And Carol would be?”

Boy, were my fingers really getting tangled in my frazzled knot now. “A… a cockroach?”

“A cockroach,” she repeated, voice flat.

“A hypothetical cockroach,” I clarified with a nod.

“That doesn’t make it better,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Look, there’s no way I’m letting my friend live in a box-”

“Not just any box! A Rolex box,” I interjected hastily. The silence stretched and I floundered a bit under her unamused stare. “So… you know, like… a really nice box.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, no. Not happening. You’re staying with us.”

I shook my head, waving my hands back and forth in front of me. “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly! I don’t want to be any more of a burden than I’ve already been and besides, you don’t have any space for me, not with the baby on the way and-”

“The jellybean won’t be here for another six months at least,” she cut in, looking down to place a gentle hand on her belly. “We were going to turn the spare room into a nursery, but we can clear all the baby stuff out for now and you can use it at least until the kiddo arrives. If you need it for longer, well then, we’ll figure it out at that time.”

“But-”

“Oof!” Riku grunted as Rayne shoved him forward with a smack to his rear.  Rubbing his posterior, he looked from her to me.  “We, er… we ask that you-” He hissed in pain as she pinched his arm, narrowing her gaze up at him.  “I mean, we insist,” he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, whispering, “insist, right?” She gave a firm nod. Clearing his throat, he continued, “We insist that you stay with us. We, uh… won’t take no for an answer.”

Well… when one makes such a super sweet and super coerced offer like that, how could I possibly refuse?

Still I hesitated, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth. “I suppose...only if it won’t be too much of a bother… and this’ll of course only be until I can find a more permanent solu-”

“Then it’s settled!” Rayne leapt up from her chair and I staggered as she tackled me in a death-grip hug. “Welcome to your new home, roomie!”

I couldn’t resist a small smile at that. It was fleeting however as the corners of my mouth turned down once more. “That’s only one problem solved though, what about the million others? There’s still my parents, my ex, my- oh gosh, I have an ex now. My first ex. How weird is that? What am I supposed to even do with an ex?! Like what, do I… send him cards now? Like around Christmas? Or is that too impersonal? Maybe this is more of a fruit basket situation... Oh! And munny! I have to figure out what I’m going to do about that now, not to mention my whole life and future and-”

“Stop,” she put a finger to my lips, silencing my babbling. “Breathe. Why do I get the feeling I’m going to be reminding you to do that a lot now?” she huffed softly. “Just… baby steps, okay? I know it all seems like a lot right now, everything is one big fat question mark, but it’ll all get figured out.  You’ve already made a little progress already.”

I blinked.  “...I have?”

“Yes! For starters, you’re not homeless! But also, think about it… you’re already doing better than you were last night. I mean, at least you’re no longer a complete basket case.”

“I suppose that’s true,” I muttered, absently wringing my hands together. Not a complete basket case… now I was only like twelve percent of one.

Okay, fine, more like sixty percent.

“See? It’s still scary, yes, but not as scary and overwhelming as it was yesterday! All you needed was a little space along with a good night’s rest to gain some perspective.”

I slowly eased back down into the chair. “I guess you’re right… things don’t seem as bad today. Still bad, very, very bad, but… not as much as last night. Heh… it’s funny how some distance can make everything seem small.”

“And it’ll just keep getting easier, believe me,” Rayne rubbed my shoulder as she too took a seat once more. “Just look at this as a new beginning.”

My eyebrows knit together. “A new beginning?”

She nodded. “Yeah, like… okay, what was your life like before? Before you flew the coop, before this whole mess when everything was all status quo, what was it like with your parents?”

A low hum escaped me. “Well, I guess I always just did as I was told. I got the grades my parents wanted me to get, socialized with the groups my parents wanted me to socialize with, went to the university my parents wanted me to go to, dated the guy I thought my parents would want me to date… never did any wrong, always followed the rules… I was always just the good girl I felt I had to be. Being their eldest child, I felt I had an image to maintain, that I must always do what was expected of me, that I owed it to Mother, to Father, to the family name.”

“Okay, sure, but now all of that?” She smirked at me. “You can just forget about it! No more right or wrong and you can take those stupid, stuffy rules and just throw them out the window! This is a new start for you. Now you get to decide what you want for yourself, no one else.  You’re free!”

I stiffened at that, blinking a couple times as her words sunk in.

...no right, no wrong… no rules for me?

I’m… free?

That… actually sounded kind of amazing.

But also totally and utterly terrifying.

Where’s a rock to hide under when you need it?

“Earth to Elsa, come in please.” Rayne snapped her fingers in front of my face and I flinched, wide eyes focusing on her once more. “Sorry, I could just already see you drifting off into worrywort mode so figured I had to reel ya back in quick. Look, I get it. Going from life as practically royalty in a gilded cage to being thrust penniless and clueless into the real world would sound scary and daunting to anyone. But you don’t have to do it alone.” She wrapped her arms around her husband’s waist, hugging him close. “You have Riku and me. Just consider us your Real World for Dummies book!”

That… was actually super comforting to hear. I could already feel the anxiety beginning to ebb a bit.  “Thanks, I… that means a lot to me,” I smiled faintly before breathing a small sigh. “Okay then, where should this dummy start?”

“Alright, lesson one,” she struck up a finger. “Everything costs munny. Solution? Get a job.”

One eyebrow shot up my forehead. “A job?”

“Yup! I mean, you’re gonna have to pay for rent somehow!”

My other eyebrow rose to join the first. “R-rent?”

Okay, anxiety back now, and cranked up to a thousand!

“Of course. What, did you think this was gonna be a free ride? Pft, please. I’m your friend, not Mother Teresa. It’s for your own good, you’re going to need to learn how to provide for and take care of yourself. But don’t worry, you won’t owe us anything until you land an actual job.”

“Oh… okay.” That didn’t sound too bad, I suppose.  However… “Just one question: how do I do that?”

Her head tilted to the left. “Do what? You mean… get a job?”

“Yeah,” I nodded vigorously, “that.”

“You’re kidding me, right? Have you never had a job before?” You could almost hear the non-existent crickets as I just stared owlishly back at her. Finally she facepalmed. “What am I saying, of course you’ve never had a job. Why would you? You have enough munny to make Tony Stark look like chump change… er, rather, you had.  Oi, this might be harder than I thought,” she grumbled, rubbing the nape of her neck.

“What were you going to do?” Riku piped up.

I looked up at him with a frown.  “What was I…?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, “You know, as in your career? What were your goals, your ambitions, your plans for the future?”

My fingers were back at it again, getting ensnared in my bedraggled knot. I really needed to see about disentangling the stupid thing.  “Well, I… I guess I never really thought about it…”

“What?!” Rayne’s head rocked back at that.  “How could you not?! Didn’t you say last night you just graduated? What were you going to do now that you were out of school?”

“I was going to get married!”

Were these people even listening to a word I'd said?!

Riku rubbed his chin, “Let’s try a slightly different angle here. What about your major? What were you studying?”

Here I cringed a bit. “Art History.”

Rayne clapped her hands together once, “Well then, there you go! You can apply to a museum or something.”

“But I hated it. Another thing I did only because my parents encouraged me to. I don’t want to work at a museum or sell art or teach it or have anything to do with it!” And once again, I was slumping forward. Hello table, my old friend. Don’t mind me, I’ll just be banging my forehead against you a few times. “Ugh, why did I have to waste four years of my life on that?! Stupid, useless major!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she tugged on my knot, forcing me to sit back up once more. “It’s not that bad, really!”

“Not that bad? I have no skills, no experience, nothing! No one’s going to want to hire me, I’m about as qualified as a frigging kumquat! Scratch that, the kumquat is more qualified because at least it can be made into a smoothie. Can I be made into a smoothie? No! I can't do anything!”

She puffed out a breath, “Calm down, there’s plenty you can do! You’ll definitely figure this out.”

I tucked in my lower lip as I looked down, mulling it over for a second. Then I glanced back up at them hopefully. “...what do you two do for a living? Would either of you maybe be able to get me a job?”

“University professor,” Riku said, jerking a thumb into his chest. “My field is astronomy, not that that helps you one way or another. You said teaching was out.” 

“And I’m a reporter for Meteor Publishing.” Rayne looked away with a low growl, “Though lately I’ve been relegated to online editing work from home because somebody thought it would be a good idea to put me under house arrest ever since we discovered I was pregnant.”

Riku held his hands up in a placating gesture. “Hey now, it wasn’t just me. Vyv agreed with me.”

She scoffed. “Stupid useless boss. In any case, I can’t really be of assistance either, I’m afraid. You kind of need the experience and background to work in journalism. You got anything like that? A course you took for fun in college? Wrote for your high school paper? Anything?”

“I’ve never even so much as kept a personal dairy,” I sighed, eyes downcast once more. “It’s hopeless!”

“No, sweetie, it’s not hopeless! There’s still plenty out there for you! Lot’s of entry-level jobs that’d be willing to train you. It probably won’t be anything glamorous, but you gotta start somewhere! Not gonna lie though, it’ll probably be retail. You know... customer service.”

“Meaning…?”

Looking me dead in the eye, she intoned one single, solitary word that rang out like a funeral toll. “People.”

I blanched.

Okay, this was it.

My nightmare.

She cupped my hands in hers and when she spoke, her voice was gentle. “Sorry, but there’s just no way around it. It’s either that or putting that Art History bachelor’s of yours to work. Pick your poison.”

If you hadn’t gotten the memo by now, me and people? Did not go together. Something about being around them caused my muscles to lock, my heart to freeze to ice, my insides to shrivel, and my soul to exit my body. If it were up to me, I’d have become a hermit a long time ago. But I’d never be able to pull it off... I couldn’t grow that iconic beard that was basically required hermit dress code. Bleh, being a hermit was such a male dominated field, it really wasn’t fair.

All that said, however…

“If I were to go the Art History route,” I began slowly, “it would be kind of like I was still letting my parents dictate my life since they’re the reason I majored in it. No… I want nothing to do with that stupid degree.” My expression hardened. “So, customer service it is then. I’m going to make it on my own, this is just something I have to do.  It… will be good for me.” Despite myself, my tone lost some of its edge as I asked, “...right?”

Rayne grinned big at me. “Absolutely! Besides, it’ll only be temporary, just something to give you time to land on your feet and figure out what you really want to do with your life. And remember, we got your back every step of the way. I can help you with the job search and filling out applications. Riku’s definitely more of the social butterfly, so he can prep you for interviews.”

My back stiffened. “Interviews?”

Riku gave a light snort. “You know, as in the thing that will actually land you a job? Resumes and job forms are great for getting your foot in the door, but they’re not enough on their own. Employers actually want to meet you, see if you’ll be a good fit, get a feel for who you are, stuff like that.”

Oh dear…

Was it too late to backtrack and get married?

Zip it, brain, I don’t want to hear that kind of talk! Stay strong, girl!

“Why don’t you give her a bit of a trial run right now, hun?” Rayne suggested, standing up and offering him her chair. “Give her an idea of some of the questions she might be asked.”

“Alright,” he took a seat across from me, scooting forward slightly and plastering on a blinding smile. “Hi, I’m Riku, I’ll be interviewing you for the position we’re hiring for.” He offered me his hand and I twitched back from it slightly. Blank stare darting back and forth between his outstretched palm and his face a few times, I at last tentatively took it to shake. He cleared his throat, looking at me expectantly. I blinked at him. He sighed, “...and you would be?”

“Oh! Um… Elsa… pleasure, to uh… to make your acquaintance?” I ventured.

“Likewise,” his hands folded in his lap. “Now tell me, why do you want this job?”

I straightened up, “Oh, this one’s easy. For munny.”

Riku spluttered and coughed into his fist. Choking back a laugh, Rayne said, “Tact, sweetheart. Try not to be so blunt.”

“Oh.”

This whole interview thing was sounding harder and harder by the second.

Having regained some composure, Riku tried again. “What would you say is your greatest weakness?”

My gaze shifted to the right as my fingers fiddled with my knot once more. “Oh gosh, I have so many, it’s hard to pick just one.”

He gave me a dull stare. “Maybe consider… honesty is not always the best policy.”

“Also remind me later that we really need to boost that self confidence of yours,” Rayne muttered behind him.

“Alright,” Riku lifted his chin, “Where do you see yourself in five to ten years?”

Was he joking? “I don’t even know where I see myself in five to ten minutes, let alone years!”

He smacked himself in the face, dragging his hand down.  “We… have our work cut out for us.”

And so it went. Riku tried a few more questions on me, but the rest of my answers continued to go about as well as you might expect. As he and Rayne did their best to prepare me for the real thing, I had to keep telling myself that despite my fears and doubts, this was what was best for me. Sure, it was going to be hard but in a way, that was good. My life had been too easy so far, with everyone making decisions for me. Everyone, that is, except for myself. I had been limiting myself and taking the easy way out this whole time, never realizing my full potential. But not anymore. It was time to see what I could do, to test those limits and break through.  This was going to be the new me, not that old fake persona I’d always put on because it was what my parents had wanted. It was time to learn who I really was. And above all, I just needed to keep reminding myself that now…

...I’m free. 

Author’s note: Whew, answered a lotta questions this chapter and we're done with the setup for the most part! Please just bear with me a little longer and I promise things will start to pick up and heat up more by the end of next chapter! You probably noticed a few not so subtle drops both this and last chapter of lyrics from Let It Go sprinkled in. I'm just a dork who's doing her best to parallel the whole running away/Let It Go scene from the movie with Elsa nopedy-noping outta her wedding in this story xD Also, not sure if it sounds weird for Elsa to say "frigging" or "frick" (she's gonna do it semi-regularly-ish) but trust me, there's a reason she does! There's always a method to my madness, I swear! …and sometimes those methods are stupid, but still, what matters is that there IS IN FACT a method xD

Anyway! Next chapter, Elsa gets a job (take a wild stab in the dark as to where, given that the story title, summary, and cover art are NOT subtle), she meets a CERTAIN someone (well, she's gonna be meeting a LOT of new someones, but there's one in particular we've all been waiting for, you know who :3) and at last the true fun, adventure and mayhem can really begin! Thank you so much for reading, and an extra BIG thank you to those of you out there who liked and reblogged last chapter, seeing that always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

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[bellatrixobsessed1]

Wan High Weeping (Part 35)

So my computer is still having issues. It basically nuked itself and so I lost a good portion of my outline for this fic and the entire document that helped me keep track of certain details (such as what professor taught which classes) and what event happened when. Basically I'm going in somewhat blind now. Like I'm relying solely on memory and mine isn't the best. So advanced apologies for any continuity errors, because I lost the documents that helped me prevent those. :/

Katara woke up feeling groggy and weak. She couldn't seem to recall how she had made it into her bed. She was at a party, wasn’t she? She was mad at Sokka, she faintly recalled. She tried to sit up, a wave of dizziness overwhelmed her. It occurred to her that she wasn’t in her bed at all. Everything was white from the walls to the bedspread to the gown she was wearing.

The gown!

She was in a hospital gown.

She closed her eyes, trying to recollect how she had gotten there. She remembered the party. She remembered the irritation. She remembered calling out to Aang and hanging out with TyLee. But it was all so distant.

She looked around the room for anyone who could help explain things to her. Finding no one, she reached for her phone. She checked her texts, all of them were panicked and desperate. Most of them had been sent to Sokka and Suki and then a few to Aang and one to TyLee.

She lifted a hand to her head, it hurt so badly. She wished that she knew how long she had been out for. Scrolling through the messages a picture began painting itself in her head, growing in clarity with each message. Jet had been following her the whole time and at some point she had begun to feel faint.

The rest was a black spot in her mind.

A black spot she could easily fill.

He had done it, he had gotten her.

She didn’t need the memories to push her to tears, the implication was enough. With trembling hands she checked to see if her social media pages had been tampered with, she could see Jet toying with those. But her accounts hadn’t been touched. So she looked at her photo collection.

A decision she grew to regret with a great depth.  

He had used her camera very generously. It was hard to conceptualize what she was seeing. Hard to believe that she was really seeing pictures of her own body strewn out with her shirt pulled up to reveal her bra and a skirt that was pulled just unsettlingly lower.

He had posed her.

He had taken the time to capture her in many different angles.

She didn’t want to know anymore so she set the phone aside and wept. He had done it, he’d gotten her. She was soiled and violated. She gasped out another sob. Why had she gone to that stupid party. She had known that it was a dreadful idea. How could she have let Sokka talk her into it? Why had he tried to do so in the first place?

How could he and Suki have just left her alone when they knew…

She didn’t understand and it was destroying her.

He hadn’t meant her any harm, but lord did he tarnish his reputation as the smart, role model older brother.

It occurred to her that he wasn’t even there.

She needed him so badly and he wasn’t even there.

She wanted to send him a text but the thought of unlocking her phone to see herself so exposed…

She couldn’t stomach the thought of it, let alone actually doing it. She’d have to ask someone else to go through and delete them. But, until she talked to the police, they’d have to remain on her phone.

She curled herself into a ball and sobbed harder.

There was a knock on her door and she heard someone speak. The words never quite computed. She didn’t want company that much. But she found it anyways in the form of Aang and Toph.

For a moment she could forget. “Toph!” She threw her arms around the girl. “Where have you been?”

“Well, I can’t exactly go to school.” Toph muttered. “I guess that’s okay though, because Wan High is basically a mental institution disguised as a high school and from what I’ve heard it’s been nothing but a mess.”

Toph wormed her way out of the embrace and Katara caught sight of her eyes. They had a foggy film over them.

“What happened?”

“So it was pretty crazy, right? I was in my room and suddenly I see this bright beam of light. Next thing I know, I’m lying on a surgical table and these aliens are looming over me. They told me that they were going to give me night vision. I didn’t realize that they meant that I’d only see darkness like it’s always night time.”

Katara sighed, but she was happy to let the tall tale take her away from a brutal reality.

“Anyways, because aliens do unethical things, I am now blind so I’ve been in and out of the hospital a lot. It doesn’t leave much time for school. Actually, I requested the room next to you.”

“Will you be able to see again?”

Toph’s face fell some. “They’re trying, but they’re also starting to suggest some school that work with blind kids. I’m learning to read braille and I might be getting a dog!”

“A dog?”

“I helped her pick him.” Aang remarked. “His name is Appa! He’s really big and I think that he’d be a good match for Toph.”

“I have a feeling that he wasn’t describing any of the other dogs very accurately. But I can’t see for myself, so I have to take Twinkle Toes’ word for it.”

“That sounds really exciting Toph! The dog part, I mean. You said you wanted a dog, right?”

Toph nodded, “I guess that’s one good thing.”

The door opened a second time. Katara expected to see Sokka and Suki standing in the doorway, mirror images of concern. Instead her parents walk in. Her mother’s eyes looked as swollen and red as her own. She hugged her tightly. “Oh God.” She whispered to no one in particular. “I knew that I shouldn’t have let you go to that party! You’re brother, he’s so irresponsible.” She was rubbing her head, looking wholly exhausted. She reminded Katara so much of herself.

“Mom, where is Sokka?”

“Your brother got himself arrested.” Hakoda replied. She couldn’t assess anything from his tone.

“F-for what?” Katara half-whispered.

“For beating up an underage boy.”

“That wasn’t a boy, that was a monster.” Kya grumbled.

“As far as the law sees, he’s an underage boy.” Hakoda replied firmly.

And Katara was teary eyed all over again. “This is all my fault.”

“Oh no. No, no, don’t say that honey.” Her mother’s arms were around her again, this time even tighter.

“But he was defending me.”

“And that’s what you’re going to tell the police when they take you in for questioning.” Hakoda replied.

“I can’t! Not today.” Katara winced.

“No, not today, they’re going to give you some time.” Kya replied.

“But the sooner, the better.”

.oOo.

Sunday was a dream in comparison to the mishap that was Monday. Sunday she got to see Aang and finally got to hear from Toph--good news no less! They hadn’t left her side until their respective families had ushered them home.

Monday showed her no friendly faces. She was faced with a few final tests, mostly concerning what affects the drugs had on her and then she was ushered away for the questioning that had been promised.

The officer, who introduced himself to her as officer Yu-Ron opened up their session with an offering of coffee. To which she shook her head, she wasn’t a big fan of the stuff. That had always been Suki’s thing. She watched him set the cup aside. “Shall we get right into this then?”

Katara nodded, she supposed that it was better to get things over with. The sooner she did, the sooner she could work to put it out of her mind entirely.

“Your friend, TyLee Boyang, she had given me a video of the incident. Do you have any evidence of your own. The video alone is very sturdy, but every bit helps.”

Katara nodded and handed him her phone. “Please delete them after you send them to yourself, I don’t want to have to look at them again.”

He nodded. “Understandable.” He took the phone from her. “Would you mind telling me what you remember of Halloween night?”

“A lot of it is really...fuzzy.” Katara replied. “I think he, Jet, drugged me. I saw him watching me throughout the whole party. Everytime I looked he was there. And then one time I looked, and he wasn’t. And that scared me. After that I started feeling, I don’t know...weird. Or maybe it was a little before that, I really can’t remember.”

“The hospital did find traces of Rohypnol in your system. That would account for the blackout and the memory loss.”

Katara found an ounce of comfort in that Yu-Ron seemed to think things were all adding up. At the very least, her story sounded as real as it was.

“I’m going to ask a favor of you. You do not have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Her tummy knotted.

“Are you willing to watch the video handed to me by Ms. Boyang?”

Katara swallowed. “If it will help get Jet locked up, I-I guess I can.”

“Very well. If you would like to stop at any time, let me know and you don’t have to finish watching it.”

Katara clutched the edge of her chair as he began playing the video. The voice that came through was muffled by static and fuzz, she couldn’t make out what he was saying but his intentions were clear enough. She watched him climb atop her. She could feel herself growing almost numb. The video played on and she watched him tug her shirt off. Somehow it was like watching a movie, it was too surreal. That couldn’t possibly have been her. She swallowed as a tear slipped down her cheek.

“Do you want me to turn it off?”

But the video was almost done, so she let the entire clip roll.

“He got me.” She spoke quietly. “He got what he wanted...he…”

“He didn’t get as far as you think. If it is any comfort, your brother got to him before he could do anything but take your shirt off.”

A weight lifted off of her chest and a lightness settled in. “He didn’t...uh...he didn’t you know…?”

Yu-Ron smiled reassuringly. “No, not quite. But this is still enough to get the boy locked up for a while.”

“What about my brother? He was just trying to help me.”

“I am aware.” Yu-Ron nodded. “We are building a case for that. Ms. Boyang mentioned that a Mr. Chan Haga was present too and that he did a good number on Mr. Akunin.”

It took her a moment to recall that Jet’s last name was Akunin. He had always been Jet to her.

“So you can get Sokka out of jail?”

“I can very well try.”

.oOo.

She still wasn’t up for school the next morning. She wasn’t up for seeing Suki at lunch. Suki who didn’t even bother visiting her at the hospital. She tried to give a little leeway; the father of her baby was in jail. She had to visit him. But, surely, she could have sent a text.

No, Suki was completely silent.

She knew Suki well enough to gauge that the girl knew that Katara was already mad at her. She knew Suki well enough to know that she was trying to give her some space. But this wasn’t a ‘give space’ kind of situation. This was a confrontation kind of situation. No, it was a situation where she very well would have let Suki’s mistake slid, so long as she lent her support.

As well as Suki meant, she was only digging herself in deeper.

As much as she longed for someone to talk to and confide in, she wanted to be angry at Suki. At the perfect person to seek comfort in. But Katara had self-respect. She wasn’t crawling back to Suki without an apology for abandoning her twice over when she needed her the most.

It looked like she would be powering through school alone.

Again.

It chilled her through and through as she dizzily packed her supplies. It didn’t feel right heading off to school as though it were another normal day. It didn’t feel right at all it was jarring and disorienting and she had a feeling her mom would have to listen to her weep the whole way to school.

She knew that, for the first time in their relationship, Kya did not know how to console her.

She didn’t know how to console herself.

She wished she could text Toph. She ended up settling on Aang. It was a shame that those two were not in her lunch hour. She wondered if she would be sitting alone and that doubled her rate of tear fall. God, she was an emotional wreck.

She felt like something half-alive dragging herself to class. She heard the late bell and braced herself for a jolly good time with June. But even she seemed to take pity on Katara’s soul, letting her pass by without a word. She dropped into her seat.

She refused to look up from her paper, it had been an outrage enough to see Chan sitting in the seat behind her unfilled one while Sokka was in jail. She had looked up only once, to catch sight of a very bedraggled Azula. Her hair obscured much of her face, but Katara could swear that she saw some bruising. She ran her fingers through her own decently messy, and dreadfully unwashed hair, she had to be imagining things.

The bell rang and she hustled out before Chan or Chu-Leng could catch her.

.oOo.

She slid into her usual lunch seat, dreading the moment when Suki would plop down next to her and pretend like nothing was wrong. Just when she was beginning to think that Suki wasn’t going to show up, she heard a lunch tray clamor on the table.

Katara made a point of not looking up.

“Hey, Kat.” Suki greeted.

Katara put an extra effort into enjoying her lunch meat.

“I’m gonna sit down, okay?”

She dug around in her lunchbox and fished out a star shaped sandwich and a note from her mother. If she read that, then she wouldn’t have to think about the girl who sat down next to her.

“Are you doing okay?”

Her mother’s note was longer than usual, reminding her that she was brave and strong and that she would get through this one. That the whole family would and that they would come out stronger still. Of course she sprinkled in more mundane commentary about having a nice day at school. She folded the note up and slipped it back into her pocket. Her elbow brushed against Suki. “I wish you stuck this close to me at the party.”

An audible glup let Katara know that Suki was well aware that she was in deep.

Katara almost caved.

“I didn’t mean to…”

“You knew that I needed your help. The only reason I came to that party was to hang out with you and Sokka!” She snapped. “I was wondering why you didn’t just want to hang out at home instead. It’s harder to sneak away from your friend to have sex when it’s just the three of you.”  So maybe it wasn’t the only reason, Aang was a pretty good part of it, but that wouldn’t help guilt Suki.

Suki’s head dipped. “I know, it was stupid.”

“Stupid, yeah. Funny how I got to pay the price for your stupidity this time around.” Katara flinched, she didn’t know where any of that had come from. She had never been this angry before. Not with a friend. She had never said anything like that to a friend before. She knew that she should apologize.

Instead she let an oppressive awkward silence befall them.

One that filled the entirety of the lunch hour.

.oOo.

Her second day back at school was no charmer either. June still didn’t interrogate her for her tardiness, but that didn’t alleviate the red that Chan’s presence put in her vision. His voice roused her temper more, even if his insults weren’t aimed at her.

"That's true, it's a gift that keeps on giving. Honestly, I don't think I've ever seen anyone eat like that! I don't know how you can eat so much at once."

 She couldn’t say why it bothered her so much to hear him say those words, really, Azula would have laughed if he were saying something like that to her. But still, his laughter drove her nearly mad. Perhaps it was because she could imagine him laughing like that knowing that Sokka was being punished for a crime he had a hand in. Katara lingered in the doorway as he added "There's something wrong with you."

 She could see that Azula had murmured something back as she seated herself.

 "Careful, you're going to break it!" Chan remarked, earning himself a high five. Azula mumbled something else and the laughter died away. Maybe it was finally occuring to him that he was an awful excuse of a boy. Katara took her own seat, rubbing at eyes that were so red they might as well be bleeding. She really needed to stop crying. But, lord, was it hard not to. Frankly, she just longged to go home.

She glanced at Azula.

Perhaps she should say something. Despite it all, she was beginning to feel awful for her. The stage of Azula so closely resembled her own, she couldn’t possibly be doing well. She almost did, but she lost her nerve. She didn’t want to risk one more bad thing.

.oOo.

She resigned herself to another lonely lunch. One that would leave her mind wandering. Aang was too much of a teacher’s pet to text in class, not that she wasn’t right there with him on that, but she really could use the conversation.  Toph couldn’t text and TyLee had just sent a text asking for luck with another round of questions with Yu-Ron. The poor girl must be exhausted. Katara knew that she was. The in depth interrogation she was subjected to after school yesterday had been an unpleasant surprise. But, apparently, their talk with Jet led them to question her again.

With Suki sitting at the other end of the table the questions repeated in her mind. She couldn’t even count on her fingers the number of ways they had phrased the same questions. She had an even slimmer ability to count how many different officers and lawyers she was introduced to. It was so completely overwhelming.

She practically begged the universe to slap her with some sort of distraction.

And a cruel genie the universe was.

"I heard about the party." "Heard about it?” Katara couldn’t keep the spite out of her voice. “You were there." "I left early…" Just like that, empathy hit her all over again. She recalled Chan’s remarks, she could see it in Azula’s posture, that they were getting to her. So she tried to sound less cold. "Right." A complete failure. "If it's any solace, he tried feeling me up." Katara didn’t know how to respond so she just let Azula continue. “I was just laying there."

She found herself twice as empathetic. But at the same time she couldn’t help but be a tad jealous. "I wish that, that was all he did to me." "He didn't actually…?" "No, TyLee stopped him." She really didn’t want to talk about this. Especially not with Azula. The girl who had probably the second biggest hand in spreading around the whore rumors. She caught Azula nod. "TyLee can fight when it matters." Katara smirked to herself at the opportunity, Azula had just granted her."Unlike some people." She uttered it just loud enough to coxa a reaction from Suki. She hated the involuntary stab of guilt that came with having said it, so she engages Azula some more.  "Why do you care?" "I don't think that you're a slut." The confession made her want to weep. Out of joy, relief, or something else, she couldn’t quite grasp. But she had to know. She needed an answer to a question that had been on her mind for so long. "Then why did you say it? Over and over again." Really, that one ought to be good.” "I don't know." Azula was speaking much too quietly, it sparked something in Katara. Maybe she should let up a little, the other girl was already having a hard time. But that small voice within reminded her that Azula wouldn’t have cared. A year back she probably would have still been harassing her even knowing her predicament.  "I guess I'm just a bad person." Azula finished. Katara's sighed, how was it that Azula was making it this hard to stay angry with her? Maybe it was simply Katara herself, who was being too forgiving for her own good. Regardless she replied, "you're not a bad person…" She didn’t know if she believed her own words, but she supposed that if Azula was taking the time to give her own version of an apology it had to count for something. She sighed again, she supposed that after everything, it would be hard for the other girl to not change. Before she could address the matter further, Azula diverted the conversation. “I liked your costume, it suited you." To be honest, it was a refreshing subject, one that led her to think about lighter aspects of her life. "thanks, my mom made if for me." A dash of dread crept in. Her costume was just about as kiddish as her silly mermaid backpack. And the fact that her mother had made it for her?

She waited for the mockery. "Is she a seamstress or something?” The question was innocent enough. She shook her head, "no, but Gram Gram was. Sewing is just a hobby." If only she had sewn the threads a little tighter. Maybe added some more straps... Mercifully, Azula cut into her thoughts. "That's one hell of a hobby." "Yeah! It's fun too, sometimes we do some sewing together.” Her gratitude for the interruption comes in the form of a more joyful tone. She hoped that maybe it would comfort Azula some to know that she was cheering Katara up at least a little.  “and mom teaches me about different traditional patterns!" Azula’s own expression seemed to turn, something that looked like it could be relief. Maybe acceptance. There was nothing vicious behind it, but something was intangibly unsettling Katara about it. The sudden shift wasn’t boarding well with her. But she couldn’t say why so instead she carried on the conversation. "Have you ever done any sewing before?" Azula shook her head. She was being much too meek. Much too soft-spoken. She considered that Azula could use something to look forward to. "Maybe, if you want, I can show you how. I could use a distraction." She was almost certain that Azula could take her mind away from Jet. But her reply wasn’t as enthusiastic as Katara had anticipated. "Maybe…" "Uh…yeah…" Katara trailed off. That was kind of a conversation ender. Had the idea really been that unappealing. "I am going to talk to Teo." "Oh, yeah, okay." Katara replied. Something needed addressing but she couldn’t place it. She was torn between asking Azula if she wanted to bring Teo to her table and asking her just what had compelled her to start a conversation anyways. Had this been something she’d planned for awhile and finally had the guts or the motivation to do so?

She didn’t realize that she had actually really hoped for Azula to say yes, until the girl had walk away.

The ominous feeling stuck with her. She chewed her sandwich, this one in the shape of a heart. She had trouble swallowing it, her stomach was doing flip flops. There was something so wrong. She took out her mom’s note. ‘Be strong today. Lots of love. Make me proud.’ It was just the sort of simple thing her mom would say.

She watched Azula walk out of the cafeteria.

Lots of love.

Azula didn’t seem to get much of that.

She drummed her fingers on the table nervously. She wanted to follow Azula out, but the thought of hall monitors made her skin crawl. She didn’t want to make more trouble for herself.

She clutched her mother’s note.

Make me proud.

She stood up.

TyLee had saved her, it was her turn to save someone else. Even if it got her in trouble. Even if Azula wasn’t in any danger at all. She supposed she’d rather look like a paranoid fool then…

Then what? What did she think was going to happen?

In the back of her mind she knew exactly what she was fretting.

She checked the bathroom first, it was empty.

Her next thought was to go to the parking lot. She racked her brain for the image of Azula’s car. It had been a while since the girl had pulled up to give her a ride. She supposed that she would know that car if she saw it.

She scanned the lot, trying to keep her fear from rising. She couldn’t afford to be frantic, lest she overlook the car. At last she spotted it. But she froze up. What if her presence just made things worse. What if Azula didn’t want to see her.

The panic was settling it, she didn’t know how to handle this one. She heard a ruckus and caught sight of Teo. He came to a stop and locked eyes with her. She pointed to the car and watched him wheel to it. She would let him keep Azula company, that was probably the safest route. Her job was to go back inside and get help.

.oOo.

She watched them load them load Azula into the ambulance. Her body was so pale, she didn’t think that Azula had made it. She didn’t know anyone living who had skin that shade.

Her arms were achy from trying to keep Azula from hurting herself further during her spasming.

Katara felt so defeated. She let herself become a victim and she had let Azula die. She should have talked to her sooner. She should have let her spite go when she heard Chan making his ridiculous jokes. She wondered it it would have made a difference if she would have told Azula that Chan was wrong. If she would have told her that she was still a pretty girl. The sort Katara envied. But then, who knew how long Azula had been planning this one.  

She looked at her mother’s note. “I tried, mom. I really, really tried.”

She wasn’t much up for physical contact, but she thought that Teo could use a hug. He was much closer to Azula, this was probably tearing him apart. Principal Roku, ever so stern, broke up the embrace and motioned them back to class.

For awhile they lingered in the hall and she vented to him about Sokka, about her case, and about how everything was just such a general mess."This school is such a disaster.” As Teo had noted.

"It was never like this at my old school."

She wished that she had begun talking to him earlier on.  "I wish I never met Jet." She concluded.

"Tell me about it." He replied, making her yearn even more for a time machine.

.oOo.

The rest of the day dragged by agonizingly slow. She thought about what she was going to tell her mother. Honesetly, she was at her wits end. How much misery could cling to and surround one person. She didn’t know what she had done to deserve this. Save for making one mistake, one simple mistake. Save for being too trusting.

She shut her locker and looked to the one next to hers. Azula’s locker was a mess of printouts and what looked like soda. She picked up one of the sheets and cringed. An Usha trademark that reminded her of Halloween all over again.

She is filled with regret all over again for not trying to help Azula sooner. For letting her spite get the best of her. She groaned to herself, maybe she ought to learn from this one. She whipped out her phone and asked Suki if she wanted to drop by her house in an hour or so. "Are you okay, Katara?" Katara jumped. When she turned around to see TyLee she replied. "I…too much is happening at once." Her voice was growing all weak. "What's going on?" It was hard for her to choke the words out. But finally she got the there. “She killed herself, Ty." And her tears flow, unchecked. It settled in, in full that she could have saved Azula but didn’t because she choose to harbor anger instead. It was just the kind of thing her mother didn’t like her to do.

"Who?"

"Azula." "How do you know!?" TyLee cries. "Teo and I found her." She answered miserably. "I…she talked to me before…" She should have seen it sooner. She really should have. Azula had made it pretty plan a number of times. At the very least, her distress had been obvious. "She talked to me too." TyLee replied softly.  She too had some tears to shed. "I was going to drive home with her today…" Her hiccuping matched Katara’s own.  "Is she really gone?" Katara wrapped her arms around her.  "I'm not sure.” She paused, she really hoped that she was wrong. “It sounded like it, but I don't know. They wouldn't tell me anything." She really didn’t understand why they were keeping her in the dark. She was one of the people who had found Azula! As if things couldn’t be any more miserable, TyLee noted, "I was going to drive home with her, Katara. We were going to go to my house and I was going to show her my new hamster and we were going to catch up…" Apparently, Katara wasn’t the only one with a heap of ‘if only’s’.  "We were going to be friends again…"

She somehow knew the feeling, she thought that she might have been ready to give Azula a chance.

.oOo.

Suki was snoring on the sofa close to her. On a normal day, sleepovers weren’t allowed on school days. But her mother didn’t put up a fight when Suki asked if they could have the extra time to talk things over. Kya had agreed, under the guise that Katara could use the company.

If she were being honest, even with the hours of chatter and discussion, Suki still didn’t give her a satisfactory answer as to why she thought it was a good idea to have her alone time with Sokka. Eventually Katara resigned to accepting, “okay, it was a horrible idea, I was just tipsy and horny.”

A horrible excuse, but at least it was an honest answer.

She was still furious but she didn’t want to leave Suki entirely alone to deal with her pregnancy concerns and the guilt.

Afterall, guilt was eating Katara alive, she wouldn’t ever willfully impose that on someone else. So Suki slept on the sofa in her living room and she took the floor. A bowl of spilled popcorn littered the room for her mom to fuss over.

The baby had Suki sound asleep and she was ready to turn the TV on to drown out mental images of her in only a bra and Azula on a stretcher. She feared that the two events would merge into one horrible scene courtesy of a nightmare, so she refused to sleep.

Her phone sounded. Instinctively she feared the buzz. She reminded herself that Jet was either in the hospital with no phone or in a cell. She picked it up, hoping for maybe Aang. Or better yet a message from Sokka telling her that they had decided to let him go after all.

She had received neither. But she supposed that the message she did recieve was a blessing in its own way. It was a simple, albeit, awkward thank you.

Katara looked at the clock. She wouldn’t be sleeping easy. She hadn’t expected anything of the sort, but she conversed with Azula for a good portion of the night.

[the-gay-cryptid]

Camping Trip

I have never been an outdoorsy person. Not really. Sure, I like walking in the field behind my house. It’s big enough that I’ve gotten lost a couple times and had to consider the possibility that I’d need to call my parents to help me. But I always had my phone in those situations. I had food and water and was never more than an hours walk from civilization. Even so, when i learned of our sophomore retreat, I decided to embrace the wilderness.

For our retreat, we went into the smoky mountains for a few days with our classmates and three teachers. It wasn’t exactly camping, since we were actually sleeping in dorms, but the dorms weren’t nice. The building was freezing cold and the bunk beds didn’t have actual mattresses, just those thin mats we used in kindergarten at naptime. Then there were the ladybugs. Those perfectly harmless and charming little red and black bugs. Signs of good luck. Signs of a lovely spring day. They were everywhere.

One of my closest friends once admitted to me she was terrified of ladybugs after her house had a small infestation. I used to laugh at her. Then I got to Tremont and had to sleep with a towel over my head so the ladybugs didn’t get in my hair or mouth while I slept. In the mornings, i had to shake them out of my hiking boots. It was disgusting, but I could at least appreciate the potential for a story of my classmates shrieking in the night because a lady bug had crawled on her face.

I complain a lot about the dorms, but they really weren’t so bad. Even the communal bathroom wasn’t too bad. And that’s coming from someone who locks the doors for privacy when I’m just brushing my teeth. Would I ever actually choose a communal bathroom? Absolutely not. But I could live with it so long as the next ones didn’t have ladybugs trying to escape the shower water by flying into my hair.

Every morning we rose from our uncomfortable beds that left my shoulders cramped for almost a week and went to breakfast. Breakfast was okay, with it’s bland pancakes and even more bland yogurt. But there was hot tea, and that was all I really needed. Lunch and dinner weren’t much better, but they served brownies after dinner, which were surprisingly good. After breakfast (and lunch) we went on hikes or had rest time. Most people spent rest time in the dorms sleeping or hanging out. I opted for the hikes that our biology teacher took a few girls on.

They were short, easy hikes that usually took us to the river. The water was freezing cold, and we all took advantage of it to rub down our necks and foreheads after we’d been running around the forest. It was so quiet out there. I don’t live in the city, and I do wander around the field, but I can’t ever escape that faint hum of civilization. Of cars. Of shouting children. But out there, standing on a rock dangerously close to the river’s edge, I heard only water and wind. It would’ve been disturbing if it wasn’t so beautiful.

On our last day, we went on the hardest hike of all: The Waterfall. The walkways were narrow and right on the edge of the mountain. We had to walk single file and warn each other of loose leaves and mud. Even so, several of us fell and finished the hike with dirty hands and clothes. Some parts of the trail were so steep, we had to climb on our hands and knees, like we did when we were kids running up stairs. Unlike the stairs, the mountain was uneven and muddy and didn’t just leave us with carpet burn when we slipped.

With the worst of the hike over, we were faced with the next challenge: scaling rocks to get to the actual waterfall. The paths on this hike were all extremely narrow, and as we got closer to the waterfall, the rocks got bigger. Though they’d been worn down a bit over the years of people climbing over them, we still had to boost each other up. Getting down them was much easier, since we could essentially just slide down.

If we had felt like it, we probably could have just walked upriver and bypassed the rocks altogether, but one of our girls had fallen in the river during an activity the day before, and she’d come out bruised and so cold her whole body trembled and her lips took on hinted hues of blue. We’d all given up our spare blankets to warm her when we got back. She was fine after some hot chocolate a good group hug, but walking in the river was still a no go.

Surprisingly, no one got hurt on the rocks. After them, we finally reached our destination. The waterfall wasn’t huge, only a couple stories tall if I had to guess, but it was still pretty. We partook in the Tremont waterfall challenge, (dunking your face in the freezing water beside the waterfall for seven seconds) and painted our faces with mud made from rubbing two river rocks together. I swear that mud was magical, because it cleared my skin by nightfall.

I’d made it through the hike without a problem. I’d shoved my face in cold water. I’d put mud on my face. I’d taunted my teachers with my classmates so they’d stick their faces in the river too. But when I finally injured myself, it was because I was posing for a picture. It wasn’t even a dangerous picture. We were just standing on a rock a little ways into the river. We only had to hop across spaces between the rocks, and the spaces were each no bigger than six inches across. Just like I’d done on every single hike that went by the river.

It was a stupid mistake. I had gotten confident from my lack of injuries throughout the entire trip, and this was our final hike. So my dumb, arrogant self tried to jump to the next rock. Fun fact: river rocks tend to be wet and slippery. As any half wit could tell you, it’s best not to jump on them. Hell, even I knew that when I was jumping. But I assumed my boots had good grip on them. Thing is, my boots were meant to grip dry rock and dirt.

My foot slid from under me and I went down. I didn’t fall in, thank God, but I skinned my hand and knee on the rock. Several people panicked when I fell, since I’d barely caught myself before my head collided with the stone. I’d gotten close enough that the edge of the frame of my glasses got scratched, but my head itself thankfully didn’t hit. I was okay, just a little bloody. I got a bandaid and sat for the picture. I actually still have a small scar on my knee from the fall.

The best hike was not the last one though. The best had occurred on our first full day there. There’d been whispers of it from the moment we saw the whiteboard in the mess hall with our day’s schedule: the night hike. Those words were murmured like rumors of a haunted house among middle schoolers. I thought nothing of it. We were just going to bring our flashlights for a late night hike. No big deal. Then dinner rolled around and we were informed that, no, we would not have flashlights. Then I freaked out a little.

I am perfectly willing to admit that I’m a tad afraid of the dark. I’m not scared of monsters hiding in the dark under my bed or anything, I’m just scared of all the things that can go wrong when you can't see. I have a recurring nightmare of going into the kitchen late at night to get a glass of water, only to drop it and have it shatter around my bare feet, leaving me stranded and bleeding until someone comes to rescue me. That nightmare is the reason I keep a huge plastic water bottle in my room at night. I know I don’t have to be afraid of dropping glass in the forest, but there are other very real things to be scared of.

The forest was overrun with wild boars, for example. Our guides had all warned us how to spot tracks and what to do if we saw one. They even pointed out some of the traps they’d set to capture and relocate the boars since they’d started to over populate in the park. There were also wolves, as our guide told us in a story about how she’d accidentally run into a couple on the verge of a battle one night. There were also owls. We weren’t warned about them, but we could hear them. Owls are too often forgotten to be the vicious predators they really are. They’ve been known to attack people’s heads before, and just the thought of those vicious talons sinking into the back of your head is terrifying.

We walked in a darkness so thick, I couldn’t see my hair when it fell across my glasses. We walked single file, whispering warnings about loose rocks, roots, and steep step downs. We clutched the shoulder of the person in front of us and stayed pressed to the mountain to keep from falling down its side. I tried to map in my head where we were going, recalling that my teacher had mentioned one of the paths we’d taken on an optional hike was used for the night hike, but I quickly realized I was not on that at least vaguely familiar trail. Then I lost my grip on the girl in front of me.

I’ve always had anxiety. It’s gotten worse since I got older, but I learned how to manage it, and it rarely left me unable to think clearly. But then i was in a dark forest with nothing to hold onto. I was acutely aware of how far I was from civilization. Of how close the edge of the trail was. I was alone and lost. I felt a scream in my chest, but it couldn’t get past my constricted throat, and I could only gasp in the fresh air that felt too pure for my emotional state. I imagine i might’ve looked comedic. My eyes wide as I jerked my head around and fumbled with my arms straight out for a tree branch. But i felt absolute terror deep in my chest, like I was already on the verge of death.

I looked up at saw billions of stars. Living somewhere so rural, I’d never known how truly dark the world could be, nor did I have the faintest idea that I could see so much in the sky. So far and many that I knew i was very small and insignificant among them. I’d never seen so many. I’d never seen a sky so black. It was cold and vast and I was small and alone. I did not find fear in that sudden understanding. I found calm. Looking back, my reaction was incredibly melodramatic, but it felt so crystalline and simple at the time. I thought if i’m going to die, then this is a beautiful last thing to see. Then my teacher put her hand on my shoulder and guided me forward till we reached the group again. The group which had only made it a few feet in the brief thirty seconds i’d faced what I imagined to be a very evident demise. Fear certainly turns us into drama queens.

I didn’t lose track of the group again, but I had another moment to admire my insignificance in the universe. We’d separated, going a mere five or six feet from our stopping point, and sat down at the order of our guide. We were told to sit in total silence for five minutes, at which point she’d call us back. I sat on the cold damp river bank and looked straight out. I couldn’t even tell when I’d blinked or stared into the woods. Both were equally void of light.

The bank of the river was made up of cold, damp mud that chilled my hands and legs. Without thinking of all the bugs that might be there, I laid on my back and closed my eyes. It was so calm. So strangely quiet. It was too cold for crickets to even be out and chirping, so the only sound was the river. And something else.

I strained my ears, but kept my eyes closed. The sound was constant and distant, and also extremely familiar. I sat up and opened my eyes, searching the shadows for any movement. It sounded like another group of hikers talking in the distance. Probably just like us. I heard them laugh and heard their changing inflections as they talked. I even thought I could make out a few words. But I couldn’t see anything. They sounded like they were just up the river, but they never got any closer.

A sudden fear began up my spine again. What if it was my group? What if they’d started back and I’d not heard the guide calling us? I felt sure I hadn’t really wandered that far, only a few feet or so. But it was so dark out there really was no way to tell. Oh god, what if I was alone? I could never find my way back, i didn’t even have my flashlight with me. I’d left it in the dorms after we’d been told we wouldn’t be allowed to use them on the hike. I could maybe survive for one night; I’d watched Man vs. Wild plenty of times. But I didn’t have anything useful. Just a journal, a pen, and a lightweight jacket in my bag. You can’t exactly defend yourself from boars or wolves with those.

I began turning side to side rather frantically, searching everywhere for any sign of anyone I knew. My heart pounded so loud in my ears, I couldn’t hear my group in the distance anymore. I turned and sat on my knees, opening my eyes as wide as possible to make them adjust and start to see anything. In one of my panicked turns, I saw something human-ish in shape leaned against the rock. When I squinted, i could make out a small, pointed nose and straight hair.

“Angie?” I said softly, and the head turned. “Oh, just making sure it’s you.”

“It’s me,” she answered. I sighed, knowing instantly she was telling the truth. Even when she was whispering, she still had her distinct Vietnamese accent.

Now that I knew I wasn’t alone, I faced out to the river again. The sound was still there. It was still the same distance away. Who in the hell was out there whispering and giggling, but not actually hiking?

And then, like someone had smacked me upside the head and knocked the obvious explanation into my head, it hit me. The river. It was the river. What I mistook for voices was simply the gurgling water against the rocks. I finally understood why we describe brooks as “babbling”, because even now that I was aware of it, I couldn’t shake the belief that what I heard was people.

I could imagine how people can go crazy getting lost in the woods. The deceptive sounds of nature could lead anyone to believe they weren’t alone in the unbreakable darkness out there. Stories of fae and madness made so much sense now, and firmly set my intention to never go hiking alone or without damn good supplies ever again.

With the misunderstood danger gone, I tilted my head back and looked up. The stars were beautiful, and I was breathless. I decided then and there, I’d spend as much time watching the stars as I could from then on. I’ve always loved space. I love how big and vast and full of potential it is. It’s exciting. Like a gigantic mystery novel waiting to be read. I’d been describing myself as insignificant in comparison to it, but that just wasn’t true. I wasn’t insignificant because I couldn’t be compared to it. I am just a small living thing trying to compare itself the the entirety of the universe. It just wasn’t fair to myself.

Our return hike was silent. No warnings whispered over our shoulders. Just silence as we all returned to the dorms to sleep. I didn’t talk much that night. I called dibs on the first shower, and I told my friends goodnight. I laid in my bunk, towel over my head, and closed my eyes and dreamed beautiful things of a void of stars and whispering creatures living in shadows.

[fromstraykids]

protect

characters: you x felix

summary: in which you unknowingly became infatuated with a mafia member

quote: “i’m new here”

7:34 pm – new apartment

Setting the final piece of furniture into place, you laid on the couch tired from all the work you spent that day moving into your new apartment. Sure, it was a bit of a drive to your university, but at least the apartment was cheap, right?

Your stomach growled loudly as you remembered that you hadn’t eaten since this morning. Deciding to go to the nearby supermarket, you grabbed your wallet and stepped out into the warm night.

The sun was setting down when you entered the supermarket and when you came out, it was completely dark outside with the exception of a few flickering street lights. Walking back to your apartment, you heard light footsteps behind you and turned around–and saw nothing. Turning back around, the footsteps were heard again as you fastened your pace. As they came closer near you, you felt another presence next to you.

“Hey! Long time no see!” a boy in a leather jacket greets you. You look at him confused, who was he? Then he whispers, “Play along, that guy’s been following you the entire time.”

Getting the message, you put on a smile on your face. “Wow, it’s been a while, how have you been?” You didn’t know why, but you decided to trust the boy in front of you. As you walk with him back to your apartment, he finally tells you his name.

“Felix,” he says as he waits for you to enter the building.

“I’m y/n,” you reply as you open the door. “I’ll see you soon? I’m guessing you live by here.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, soon. Bye, y/n.” He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket and walks down the steps.

9:20 pm – garage

Felix enters the parking garage and catches sight of Chan, immediately preparing himself for the scolding about his lateness.

“Where were you?”

“Do you know what time it is?”

“Did you get into a fight?”

“Chan, chill. There was this person–”

“Does Felix have a crush on them or something?” Jisung butts in and takes a seat on the hood of the car.

Felix sighs. “No, they’re new to this neighborhood and a member of W1 was following them, so I walked them back to their apartment,” he explains.

Chan’s face grew expressionless when he hears the name of their rival gang, W1. “Did you catch their face?”

“No.”

“Did they catch your face?”

“I mean, I hope not.” Chan sighs heavily.

“If they did, that person is probably a target now. Considering that W1 just loves to target everyone associated with our group.”

Felix rolls his eyes. “Chill, Chan, I doubt that they saw us don’t worry.” However, Felix begins to feel slightly worried if the person did catch his face. He would just have to walk you back to your apartment every night, then, not that he was complaining about anything.

8:29 pm – apartment

“–and now I have to find another job because I got fired. Again,” you said as Felix falls into step with you.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find one soon, just keep looking,” Felix comforts, his mouth stretching into a reassuring smile.

“Thanks,” you say as you two enter the dimly lit hallway. “You’re probably the only nice person in this whole neighborhood.”

He raises an eyebrow. “What’d you mean?”

“I mean, you’re always walking me back home from the bus stop, even though you’re probably busy with your own life. And not to mention, this neighborhood is just a bit sketchy, you know? There are rumors of mafias here.”

“Mafias?”

“Yeah, mafias. So, having you walk me back at night is probably the nicest thing someone has ever done to me, I just don’t know how to pay you back.”

“You don’t have to, I mean, I like your presence, so don’t think that you’re burdening me,” Felix reassures.

“I know, but I don’t want to think that walking me back is a chore for you, you know–” Felix delicately tilts your chin up, making you look at him. His freckles illuminated in the dim light and you wondered what it was like to kiss his cheeks, maybe you would find out another day.

“Hey, it’s not a chore, you know what a chore is? Having to go out in the middle of the night to buy potato chips because my friends decided to start craving them, now that’s a chore,” he chuckles. You smile slightly. “So, don’t think that I forced to walk you home. I like walking you home, y/n.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Felix’s eyes flicker to your lips briefly before looking back up at you. “Fuck it,” he mutters under his breath and leans down, pressing his soft lips against yours.

Before he pulls away, you ended the kiss and hurriedly entered your apartment, muttering ‘sorry’ as you slam the door in his face. Felix stands before the closed door, shocked, and mutters, “Great job Felix, you fucked up. Like always.”

He walks away with a heavy sigh as you lean against the door, regretting your actions. “I ruined everything,” you sighed as you slid against the door, taking a seat on the wooden floor.

3:29 pm – a few days later

It was a couple days since the kiss and Felix hasn’t walked you back since, leaving you wondering when you would see him again. Sure, you could send him a quick text, but then what? It would be too awkward to talk to him.

Felix decided to go set things straight and walked to your apartment. As he walks, he glances at the cafe he was passing and stops in his tracks. He catches sight of you, but whoever was next to you shocked him even more. Without another thought, he enters the cafe loudly, making you look up at him as he walks over to you.

“Felix–” Before you could say anything else, he takes your wrist and leads you out of the cafe.

He leads you to an alley as you eyed him, curious and shocked. “What was that for?” you questioned.

Felix ruffles his hair. “Why were you with him?”

“He’s my friend,” you state, making the boy in front of you pinch his nose bridge.

“Listen, I’m all up with you having guy friends and all that shit, but stay away from him, he’s bad news, very bad news. Okay?” Felix looks at you with panicked eyes.

You scoffed. “Daehwi? Bad news? I bet you don’t even know the guy, he’s the nicest person ever. He wouldn’t even hurt a fly.”

Felix begins to pace, making you wonder if what he was saying was true. “What do you know? You’ve only been here for four months. That guy, Daehwi? He’s part of the fucking mafia, alright?”

“And how do you know that? How can I believe you?”

“Because I’m in one myself!” he yells, unknowingly revealing his secret to you.

“You’re in...a mafia?” your voice shakes as you ask the question, seeing him in a new light. Now everything made sense, why he was always bruised when he saw you, why he never talked to you about his job, why he was jumpy whenever a police car drove by, everything clicked.

“Now do you believe me?” Felix asks, looking at you once again with expectant eyes.

“No.” You shake your head as you leave his presence and returned back to the cafe. Felix kicks at the wall as he thinks up a plan, knowing that Daehwi would do something to you. Soon.

8:40 pm – end of night class

Exiting the bus, you looked around for Felix. Maybe he would be sitting on the bench, waiting for you with a drink or dessert in his hand. However, the bench was empty. No Felix, which meant you had to walk home alone.

You could do this without Felix, who said that you needed him? Walking onto the sidewalk, the number of people began to decline as you grew nearer towards your apartment building. Entering the dimly lit street, you immediately heard the sound of faint footsteps and began to pick up your pace. You hope that maybe Felix would just so happen to be walking your way, just like the first time you met him.

As you break into a run, a person grabs your hand and pushes you against the brick wall of the alley. “Nice seeing you here, y/n.” In the dim light, you make out the features of the person’s face. Daehwi.

“Daehwi, what are you doing here?” You asked shakily. He donned a black leather jacket and you could make out the stitching of ‘W1’ on the breast pocket. Felix was right.

“You know? I’ve had a hunch that you and loverboy were somewhat connected and today at the cafe just confirmed my suspicions.” He pulls out a small object. A gun. “So tell me, what are you doing for Stray Kids?”

“Nothing.” Your blood grew cold when you felt the cold metal tip touch your temple. Shakily, you say again, “Nothing.”

Daehwi smirks. “Really? Then how come loverboy is always so concerned for you, it like he’s in love with you? I wonder,” he chuckled menacingly, “I wonder what would happen if I killed his little crush.”

“Felix!” you yelled at the top of your lungs, hoping that someone would hear you.

“No one can hear you,” Daehwi states, clicking the gun.

Once again, you yelled, “Felix!”

“Should I hold you captive or should I kill you right here and now, either way, you’ll die.” You begin to fight out of his hold but failed. “Maybe I should just kill yo–”

As he finished his sentence, Daehwi is thrown to the ground. “Go near them again and I’ll kill you,” the person says as he lands a punch on Daehwi’s face. Daehwi stumbles up and runs away, limping ever so slightly.

Felix immediately goes over to check on you. “Are you okay? Sorry, I couldn’t come faster, but I’m here now.” He pulls you into a hug as you felt tears slide onto your cheeks.

“Please, don’t leave me ever again,” you whispered as Felix wipes the tear away with his thumbs.

“I promise.”

3:58 pm – garage, a few weeks later

Walking out of the cold weather and into the warm garage, you immediately felt better. “What’s wrong?” asked Felix.

“I’m a bit cold,” you say as Felix frowns. He takes your hand and entwines it with his, stuffing it into the pocket of his leather jacket. “Better?”

You nod. “Better.”

Walking up to the boys, they stop when they see the two of you and start laughing. “What?” Felix asks, confused.

Jeongin points to the ceiling, a small mistletoe was hanging from a piece of string over the both of you. “Rules are rules, right?” Felix winks as he caresses your cheek and presses a soft kiss on your lips.

Hearing the hooting from the boys, Felix pulls away, a small smile forming on his lips. “I love you,” he confesses.

[taeshabibi]

28 Days - Part 9

Genre: Angst/Fluff/Romance

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: Major Character Death, Mentions of Depression and Suicide.

Summary: You and Jeon Jungkook despise each other and were sworn enemies. But what if Jungkook took his own life? Would you be willing to make a deal with the Devil to relive the past 28 days and prevent Jungkook’s early end?

Read: Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3: Part 4: Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Part 8 : Part 9

Jungkook sits down on his bed and motions his hand for me to sit beside him. I stay frozen in my stance.

"Try again Playboy, I ain't never gon be on your bed," I snap. Jungkook looks at me strangely and bursts out laughing.

     "You have got to relax. I hope you realize you aren't my type at all. And why would I try anything, when you have a boyfriend?” Oh yeah, I forgot Taehyung and I were fake dating.

    "Bro Code are the rules. I'm just here to help. Am I not allowed to be a decent human being?"

    "C'mon Jungkook, when have we been decent human beings to each other?"

     "You make a fairly good point. I just feel so guilty about what happened today. I can't believe Ji Hee could be cruel to you..." he looks down in shame. “And I feel like it's all my fault. God I just want to die." He exhales a deep breath. Instinctively, I Dashi Run Run Run and sit beside him on the bed.

     "No no no! Don't say that. It wasn't in your intentions for Ji Hee to hurt me!" I patted his shoulder to assure him.

     "Yeah, but I'm a bystander sometimes, and it screws all the people around me over..." He then unexpectedly smiles.

     "I thought you said you'd never ever sit down on the bed, next to me, a Playboy?"

    I get up and tried to make up an excuse. "Uh, uh well you said you wanted to die..." I smack my head with my hand. "OH wait that's more of your dark humor?"

"Duh." He clicks his tongue and says "badum tss". "I still don't get it." I shrug my shoulders.

"You don't get a lot of things, y/n. So how about we get started on fixing your face so it doesn't get worse?"

"True..but first..." I get a chair from his desk and place it near the table of supplies which was next to his bed. "I'm using this seat, I'm not sitting on your bed."

"That's pretty pointless, considering you already sat on my bed and the chair you placed is right beside the bed.. but Do You.” He picks up the antibacterial ointment and twists the top off. He motions for me to get closer so he could put it on. Pulling back from him, I say, "I can do it myself, Jungkook, I'm not a baby."

"Are you sure you can? This ointment is fast healing, but it hurts like hell when you put it on."

Snorting, I grab the medicine from his hand. "It can't be that bad." Using my phone's camera as a mirror so I can see my face, I put a blob of ointment on my finger and place it on a cut above my upper lip. "HOLY SHITAKI MUSHROOMS! WHY IS MY FACE BURNING LIKE IT GOT STUNG BY A RADIOACTIVE WASP?" I scream and drop the antibiotic. I pull Jungkook by the collar of his shirt and our faces were so close that our noses were touching.   "WHY DIDN'T YOU WARN ME?" I whined.

    "Yes, this is clearly my fault. I apologize. Wish I gave you a heads up beforehand," he rolled his eyes. "Yes it is your fault. How the heck am I supposed to put this on?" I pondered.

   "I could put it on you, and you could endure the pain-"

    "That's an INGENIOUS IDEA! Why didn't you suggest something like that before?" I yelped.

     Jungkook tousles his hand through his locks and chuckles. "I guess I finally met someone who's even more crazier than me.”  I sit down on the chair so we're across from each other. He squeezes the ointment out of the container and hovers his hand above my upper lip.

"Are you ready?”

     "Hell no, but let's just get this over with." He gently spreads the medicine on my upper lip. I wince, but the whole time, he's looking right into my eyes. Even though it's painful, it isn't as bad as before. His golden brown eyes gazing into my own distracts me from the pain. It's like he's my own personal adrenaline.

"Not that bad right?" he softly murmurs as he places more ointment on my cheek. His fingers are so gentle. He lingers his hand there for a few seconds after spreading the ointment. I felt that he was doing that on purpose but I don't say so.

     Jungkook does the same to my other cheek and chin. Our faces were inches apart and we continuously look into each other's eyes. This wasn't my first time that someone else put cream on my face. My parents and school nurse have done the same. But it felt so intimate when Jungkook does it. Why was my heart beating so fast?

     "Your hair is in front of your forehead, where you have a wound. Is it okay if I move it?" Jungkook asks for permission. I nod and he slowly pushes my hair from my forehead. But the weird part he doesn't stop. He ruffles my hair, with his fingers repetively. It felt oddly calming. He suddenly discontinues and I'm lowkey disappointed.

     "Oh sorry. It's just... your hair is so soft," he apologizes and pulls his hand away. His face turns red like a tomato.

    "Really? Thanks! I use a special shampoo and conditioner that my mom's hair stylist recommended to me. I can tell you the name of it if you want-"

     Jungkook shakes his head. "Nah I'm good." He finally places the last of the ointment on my forehead and neck.

    "Well thanks so much. I guess I'll get going now." I tried to get up but my stomach was hurting so much. But I couldn't fully stand up. Sitting back down, I grunted.

"Y/n are you okay?"

"I'm gonna be honest...no. My stomach is in ridiculous pain. It's getting worse with each second," I look down in embarrassment.

"You don't have to be so ashamed of yourself. Honestly, the fact that you're not even crying or fainted..I'm impressed," he says as he props his chin in his hand.

I perk my head up. "Really?"

"Yeah. You have a lot of pain tolerance in comparison to most guys I know. You're really strong," Jungkook admits.

I grin. "Thanks so much! So what are we gonna do about my stomach pain?"

"I guess we're gonna have to put some rubbing alcohol on it...which means you're gonna have to take your shirt off."

I back away from him. "Oh hell nah."

"Y/n it's really not that big of a deal..."

"It is a big deal to me," I cross my arms. I've never taken my shirt off in front of a guy before. Never even had my first kiss. Yeah, that may be pathetic to most people, but I only want to be intimate with a guy I cared for. And it's not like I didn't have the opportunity to get a boyfriend.  Even though I'm not the most attractive person, a few boys have flirted with me before. I didn't have feelings for them so I refused their advances. And now I have to take off my shirt in front of a boy I despised a few days ago?

"Y/n I won't do anything to you..Oh, I know why you don't want to!" Jungkook chuckles and smiles to himself, knowingly. Oh dear Lord, he knows I'm a virgin.

"You'd feel like you're cheating on Taehyung."

"Hahaha yeah. I care for my boyfriend a lot, you know." I tried my best to sound like I was telling the truth.

"I get it, but you can't put the rubbing alcohol on yourself. And if we don't treat those wounds properly, you can get blood poisoning." He shrugs his shoulders like he tells this to people everyday.

"Blood poisoning?" I screech, with my eyes widening.

"Yeah. Look, you taking your top off won't have any effect on me. If it makes you feel any better, I've seen tons of girls shirtless before, so I'm immune." He covers his mouth and realizes what he just said.

"Damn, Jungkook. Really didn't need that extra not ordinary information," I scrunch my face and look away, disgusted.

     Jungkook begins panicking. "That's not what I meant! The circumstances required it. You see-" I️ put my hand up in front of his face.

    "I'd rather not hear about the situations that led you with being with shirtless girls."

     "I'm sorry y/n for making you uncomfortable.."

     "It's okay, you're human. You shouldn't be ashamed of yourself, Jungkook."

"I know I sound like a major player. I don't want you to think of any lower of me than you already do-"

"I don't think of you any lower," I say with complete honesty. His sex life is his own business.

He sighed in relief. "If it makes you feel any better, I can take my shirt off too. So you're not alone.” He raises the edge of the bottom of his shirt and I immediately shut my eyes.

    "I'd rather you not, you Playboy!" I yell.

Jungkook giggles at my gullibility. "Okay, how about you lift your shirt halfway up? So it's still below your chest and we can take care of the wounds on your stomach. Sounds good?" Hmm, that actually was a decent plan. I wouldn't have to take off my entire shirt and he can take care of the main gashes. The cuts on my chest seemed minor anyways.

"Okay." I️ stand in front of him and slowly lift up my shirt above my abdomen. It was a bit difficult to, because my sweaty sweater stuck to the wounds. He looks down at my body and grimaces.

"It's not that bad right?" I ask hopefully.

"No y/n it's really bad. Your entire stomach is black, blue and red. What did they do to you?!"

"They kicked me with their high stilettos. Oh yeah, one of those annoying jocks also hit me. It was only for about fifteen minutes." I shrugged.

     Jungkook looks like he's about to pass out. "You haven't had any breathing problems or lost of consciousness since then, have you?"

"Nope just exterior pain," I say, trying to not make it sound like a big deal. He calls someone on his phone and they discuss my physical state. The conversation ends and he puts it back in his pocket.

"I just talked to Jin Hyung. You know he's studying to become a doctor right?" I nod. Everyone in our school knew he's  a medical prodigee. He would have skipped grades and graduated college by now, but he stayed in high school to get the normal teenage experience. Apparently, he volunteers at clinics and has saved numerous lives in the emergency room.

"Anyways, I told him your symptoms and he says you don't display signs of internal bleeding. But if you don't improve in a few days and you feel your health deteriorating, you have to let me or Jin know. Okay?" I nod again. I mean what else can I do? Go to the hospital and get my butt whooped by my mom?    She'll make me move to a different school if she sees my condition. I wouldn't be able to continue on with my mission. I had to trust Jungkook whether I liked it or not. Later, I'll check google when I get home to see if I'm dying or not.

"Alright let's clean your tummy now." He obtains a few cotton pads and puts rubbing alcohol on it. This is gonna be just fun. He tenderly presses the cotton pad on my abdomen and I squirm.

"Y/n you gotta be still, or I can't help you." He places his hand on my bare back to hold me still. I was about to sass him, but he just smirks at me.

    "Just go with it." I gulped nervously and he cleans my entire stomach, while his hand held onto my back. It felt strange, but oddly assuring at the same time. This was just like when we were having direct eye contact when he was cleaning my face. He distracted me from my pain. He moves his hand away and pulls down my shirt. "You're done."

"Uhh thanks," I stretch my arms. Is there anything I can say now?

     "By the way, our absence in is covered in class. I got the attendance teacher to cover for us."

     My eyes widen in shock. "You were able to convince Mr. Stein?" Mr. Stein was one of the scariest attendance teachers to ever exist. If a kid skips class, he haunts them by calling his parents immediately and standing outside of their classes waiting for an explanation. If the student doesn't have a believable excuse, he yells at them and sends them into detention for a week. Our school was very strict and barely anyone could get away with unexcused absences.

"Yeah, lets just say I can be very persuasive." He winks at me.

    "Huh? Honestly I don't even want to know." I'm assuming it has to do with the money his family has. But how can he manipulate the system and not feel guilty?

     "I try to attend all my classes in school, but sometimes I gotta help with my dad's job, so I skip. Stein covers for me always, which is nice," he says casually.

    "What's your dad's occupation?"

    His cheery smile becomes a cold stare. "You'd be better off not knowing." Jungkook was scaring me again.

    I sigh. "It's alright, I'll just leave then. But officer I got one question for you... WHAT ARE THOSE?" I point to his Iron Man socks he was wearing indoors.

     Jungkook glares at me, completely unamused. I️ cough awkwardly. "Okay I have a second question then." Jungkook raises his eyebrow. "Depending on what it is, I'll answer it."

"Why did you save me today? You were teasing me all week knowing that I wrote the lie on the board. We've pranked each other since we were kids. What was different about today that made you my savior instead of a villain?"

Jungkook pursed his lips together before finally answering. "I just dislike it when people abuse their power and harm others. It's different when I do it to you."

     "Different how?" I scoffed.

     "First thing, I don't ever have my friends involved in my mischief. It's all from my own resources.”   I open my mouth to argue, but he's right. His shenanigans just involved him. “Second, I don't think I've ever physically hurt you. Have I?"

     I have war flashbacks. No he really hasn't. Emotionally traumatized me? He hasn't done that either. He pissed me off a lot, but he's never crossed the line so far. And I've been equally terrible to him too. "I guess not."

     "But what Ji Hee did...it's unacceptable. Having a bunch of minions gang up on a single girl because of an ingenious prank?" Jungkook frowned.

     "Wait you thought my prank was ingenious? You liked it?"

     "Hell yeah! I wouldn't say it's one of your best, but not gonna lie, I was impressed. Also, Ji Hee's face after realizing the prize wasn't real was so funny. Ahh I haven't been that entertained like that for awhile," he reminisces and then smiles. "But wait how did you know it was me?"

     "I immediately recognized your bubbly handwriting. Surprised no one else did. See, you gotta be able to change up your writing. Major flaw in your pranking technique." I nod, soaking up his advice.

"I just hate people like Ji Hee who attack defenseless people. I mean if she wanted to hit you, she should have at least done a One VS One to be fair. But to be honest, she wouldn't win."

"C'mon Jungkook you know I wouldn't be able to stand a chance. She's on the school's dance team for Pete's sake." I roll my eyes.

"Yeah your body ain't got that muscle, but you have a fighter's spirit. If you actually tried, you could beat anyone," he says with sincerity.I shake my head. "Well I wouldn't be able to beat you. I mean you're a walking brick of muscle," I look down and gesture to his athletic physique.

"Excuse me, y/n did you just check me out?" Jungkook steps closer to me and cocks his eyebrow. "Uh, no, I was looking at your outfit. I love plain black shirts!"

"Sure. Anyways, back to Ji Hee. Yeah you lied. She could cry a river about it. But the fact that she had all these people holding your body, torturing you and you could do nothing to defend yourself. That's not cool." I nod. Someone who gets me.

"And the bruises and cuts...if I didn't come sooner, some parts of your body could have been permanently damaged. She probably knew. But didn't care because she was blinded by her hatred." I nod again. I didn't have anything to say. I didn't know that Jungkook had such a wise, old soul.

"I'm gonna let you on a little secret," Jungkook whispers. He looks around the room as if there were security cameras watching us. I️ inch towards him, eager to know what he was hiding. He gestures over to me, like no one else in the universe could ever know.

"I️ may enjoy destroying your life, but when anyone else attempts to, it hurts me."

[astraldragons]

Chapter 2

HEYYYYYY soooo I finally got around to writing chapter 2 of borrower!Lance fic and I’m still not satisfied but I’m gonna drive myself insane with my nitpicking if I don’t post it so hERE YOU GO. Have some Keith and Lance interaction.

Chapter 1 here!

----

When Lance comes to, everything hurts. His head is pounding enough to leave him dizzy and his arms are aching and burning.

And something... something is touching him.

He doesn't want to open his eyes. His skull is throbbing and it hurts, it hurts so badly, Jesus, did he run into the wall again-

“Huunnnnkkk,” Lance grumbles, “stop touchin’... don't feel good... tryin’a sleep...”

He hears someone gasp. The touching subsides, but he doesn't recognize that gasp. It doesn't sound like Hunk or Pidge, or any of their families. But he swears he’s heard this voice before, somewhere...

“Shit, you can talk?”

Wait.

Oh no.

/No no no./

Lance’s eyes snap open, further sharpening the pain in his head, but.

He has bigger problems at the moment.

A terrified squeak escapes his lips at the sight of a massive hand hovering over him, easily larger than his body. And then he sees the owner of the hand and quite nearly faints again.

It's the short human, the one with long, scruffy, black hair.

‘Short.’ Oh god, this human did not seem short at all, not at this proximity. He’s like a giant, living mountain, taking up the entirety of Lance’s view.

Lance attempts to get to his feet- oh god he needs to run, he needs to get /out of here/- but his vision suddenly swirls and spins, causing him to go crashing to... whatever surface he's on. He thinks it must be a table, but that's the most his terrified and dizzy thoughts can process.

“Hey, hey, shh... I'm not gonna hurt you, okay?”

Lance’s breath hitches as the giant hand grows closer, a panicked whimper escaping his lips as he awkwardly tries to scoot backwards, but his head hurts so badly, he can barely even figure out what's going on-

The hand is touching him again.

Lance makes an anxious noise at the contact, sure that the human is about to pick him up or squeeze him, but... he doesn't. Instead, the hand loosely curls around Lance’s body to keep him steady.

Lance stiffens even more as the human lowers his head so that he's almost at eye level with the borrower huddled up in his hand. However, he doesn't seem malicious, just... curious.

For now, at least.

Lance is gonna have to plot his escape when he's a little steadier on his feet.

“Hey,” the human murmurs. “I heard you talk earlier... can you understand me?”

Lance could just choose not to answer, but he supposes it wouldn't be wise to piss off the human.

“...Yeah?” Lance absently runs his hand through his hair, still watching the human warily.

“I’m- wow. I'm... maybe not crazy, then. You're...” the human frowns. “...What are you?”

“A borrower,” Lance mumbles, eyeing his surroundings. No clear escape route, especially not now, with the human’s hand around him.

“...What’s a borrower?”

Lance is thinking of how exactly to respond to that question without giving out too much information when a sudden wave of nausea causes him to sway and gag.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Lance frowns at that, his eyelids drooping. He doesn't feel very ‘okay’ at all. Everything is ringing and it hurts and his stomach is trying to flop and-

“H...hurts,” he manages.

“Where does it hurt?”

The human’s voice is... surprisingly gentle. Lance swallows thickly before forcing a response. “Head. Stomach. Everything.”

A mildly concerned look crosses the human’s face. “You did fall pretty hard; you might have a concussion.”

“...What’s. What’s a concussion.”

“When your head gets whacked pretty hard.” He chews on his lip, debating, before looking back to Lance. I’m gonna help you, okay?”

Honestly, Lance is too overwhelmed by the entire situation. He feels terrible and there’s a human, and he wants to think of the implications of getting /caught/ by said human, and what’ll happen next, but-

He just wants this over with.

“Mmmmkay,” Lance mumbles.

The human seems appeased with that for now. He very cautiously shifts Lance to lay down on the tabletop before standing- Lance’s head is swimming even more, the human is so /huge/ oh god why can’t he think his thoughts are a jumbled mess- and saying something along the lines of “give me a second”.

He can’t even think of escaping. He feels so sick...

After what feels like forever (but was probably only a few minutes), the human comes towering back into Lance’s line of sight and the glove-covered hand reaches for him again. Lance flinches, but otherwise holds still as he’s gently propped up.

“Here. It’s not a great ice pack, but it should work for now.”

Lance blinks as the human’s free hand offers up a small chip of ice covered in a scrap of paper towel. He takes it uncertainly before looking up, his brow raised in a questioning look.

“You put it against your head,” the human explains. “It’ll numb some of the pain. I’d give you pain medicine or something, but, uh. I don’t want you to overdose on Ibuprofen.”

Lance’s brows furrow, but he hesitantly holds the ice chip to the side of his head. He flinches at how cold it is, but continues to hold it there. “Oh.”

The human goes quiet, staring down at Lance long enough to the point where it /definitely/ makes him uncomfortable, before eventually breaking the silence.

“...Do you have a name?”

Lance frowns. “Uh... yeah? The name’s Lance.”

“Oh- well. My name’s-”

“Keith, right?” Lance interrupts.

Keith blinks. “Wait, how’d you know my name?”

Lance shrugs. “’M a good listener.”

After another pause, Lance shudders and closes his eyes, leaning back into Keith’s hand. “Still don’t feel good. How do I make concussion go away.”

Keith blinks in surprise at Lance’s comment before snorting. “Only way to make a concussion go away is by waiting it out. Sorry.”

Lance groans, slumping further.

The corner of Keith’s lips tugs up into a ghost of a smile, but then he clears his throat. “So, you mentioned being a good listener?”

“Mmmmhm.”

“Do you live here? And if so... how long have you been living here?”

Lance pauses at that, frowning. Although Keith /seems/ decent enough for a human, he absolutely can’t jeopardize the others. He’ll have to tread carefully here.

“I- Um. I’ve lived here for... I dunno, few years, maybe?”

“Where?”

“Where what?”

“Where in here do you live?”

Lance pauses again before cautiously speaking, cracking an eye open. “...Aaaaaround.”

Keith raises an eyebrow. “’Around’, huh?”

“Yyyyyep.”

The human frowns. “How come it took this long for me to see you, if you’ve been around for a few years?”

“Probably ‘cause I didn’t want to be found?”

“What, why?”

Lance blinks before shooting Keith a withering look. “You seriously don’t understand why I’d rather not be seen by a human?”

“...No, why? Shiro and I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Lance rolls his eyes. “I couldn’t know that for sure. And you really think I’d want to take that risk when you’re both freakishly huge and could easily, oh I dunno, /kill/ me?”

Keith pauses, blinking, before awkwardly popping his lip. “...Fair point. But I can assure you that I’m not gonna hurt you, okay?”

Lance shrugs, closing his eyes again. “...Mmmmmkay.”

“You tired?”

“Yeah.”

Keith clicks his tongue, frowning. “Okay, so. The thing with concussions is that you can sleep... but only if someone wakes you up every two hours. So I’ll have to keep an eye on you if you do fall asleep, alright?”

Lance’s cheeks puff out, slightly indignant, as he cracks his eyes open again. “What?”

“Yeah, sorry. I’ll make you a bed, though, if you give me a minute.”

Lance opens his mouth to protest, but merely groans and closes his eyes again. “Alright.”

Well, he hadn’t quite expected for the day to go like this, getting caught by a human and then having said human make him a bed and tend to his injuries.

Needless to say, he’d probably be freaking out more if he wasn’t so dang exhausted.

...He figures Hunk is probably having an aneurism at this point. He’s really hoping Pidge will be able to calm the poor guy down, but...

For now he’ll just have to bide his time and hope that Keith wasn’t lying about not wanting to hurt him.

[himbowelsh]

prompt: dick finding nix on a beach, unconscious after drowning (plus: they dont know each other yet; gold points if nix is a merman who had had an accident underwater and then was unconscious afterward)

Dick doesn’t like living by the sea.He’s willing to admit that his greatest inconvenience is his own prejudice. He has no problem with the locals, who have proven to be even friendlier that the close-knit community he left behind in Pennsylvania. He may feel a bit of homesickness, but the neighbors are welcoming, and his mother and sister call him often enough that it is impossible to really feel like he’s far away. The location isn’t a problem either; the view from his bedroom window is a luxurious beach, bordered by wide sky and endless ocean. Early in the morning, just as the sun is beginning to break through the all-consuming night, it glistens. Dick is convinced that the sight is more beautiful than the gold and jewels in any mythical dragon’s horse.He has every reason to love living here. For all intents and purposes, it seems like the sort of community he’d fit in best — hardworking, pleasant, and peaceful. His new home should be perfect.Except it isn’t.

There’s a part of Dick that would even say he hates it.It is the sense of unease, swirling just beneath his skin, that really turns him off of the idea of living by the ocean. There is something about the vastness of the sea that unnerves him. He cannot explain it; the ocean is not a present threat, reaching out its briny tendrils to drag him from land. Nothing will come out of the sea to hurt him; there are no monsters lurking in the deep that can touch him in the safety of his own home.He cannot say why he’s so unhappy, only that he is. Convincing himself that his dissatisfaction will fade as long as he sticks with his new home is easier said than done. When Dick wakes up every morning to the sound of waves crashing on the sand, he wants to feel joy; instead, he only feels isolated, and a bit paranoid.(Does the ocean have eyes? Can something within it see him the same way he can look out at it? It sounds like a crazy thought, but there are times when he’s not so sure.)Uncomfortable with the ocean as he might be, there are some things that Dick will never abandon. His early morning runs are one of them. He began them along dirt roads and farmland back in Lancaster; if he’ll give the isolated beach any credit, it’s that it makes for an ideal exercise spot. He can run along the shore as the sun rises behind him, allowing the morning breeze to breathe energy back into his tired limbs. The ocean makes him feel alive, if nothing else. This is the one thing he can appreciate about it.The naked man lying face-down in the surf must be less grateful.The ocean has lent him no life at all. Instead, Dick thinks as his stomach slowly sinks to his toes, it seems to have robbed him of all the life he had left.He saw no boats on the shore the previous night; he heard no swimmers in the darkness. The fearsome storm that drove the ocean wild throughout the night, shooting thunder and lightning through Dick’s dreams, would have lent no mercy to any soul foolish enough to venture out. Yet this man, with salt residue crusted along his limbs and dark hair dripping over his face, has clearly come out of the water. It is as if he has been rejected, nature devouring a component that does not belong and spitting it back up once it has already been ravaged.Dick can feel his heart pounding in his chest. Even looking at the body makes him feel sick to his stomach. Still, he manages a step towards it, and then another, until the prone man is at his feet.“Sir?” he forces past a dry mouth, crouching down. “Sir, are you alright?”There’s no reply. The man doesn’t stir.“Can you hear me?”It’s the last thing he wants to do — god, he’d rather run into the ocean himself — but he forces his panicked pulse to slow. As tentative as a baby taking its first steps, he reaches out and lays a hand on the man’s shoulder.His skin is clammy from the salty water, cold as ice. It only takes a few seconds, however, for Dick to feel the man’s shoulder rise and fall beneath his palm.He’s breathing. He’s alive.In an instant, sense returns to him. It’s like being struck by lightning. At once, he remembers how to move; in the next instant he’s on his knees next to the man.

His pulse is slow; his breathing is shallow, but even. Dick takes the liberty of turning the man onto his side, which is enough of a movement to jar him awake. The next second, he’s spitting a rush of sea water back onto the beach.

Startled, Dick draws back; but he keeps a hand on the man’s back until he’s done. The man falls back to the sand and screws his face up with a soft groan. “Oh my god,” he croaks out. “I think the vodka tonics might have been a bad idea.”It takes Dick a few seconds to realize what on earth he’s talking about; then he huffs, not quite a laugh, born more out of relief than amusement. “You might have taken it easy last night.”“Vodka tonics are always a bad idea. I was just inviting my own misery. Didn’t expect it to hurt this much, though,” he mutters. An effort to sit up goes awry quickly. He winds up flat on his back again, looking woozy. His head lolls back against the sand, revealing the long arch of his neck, and that’s when Dick notices something alarming. A long trail of dark liquid courses down the man’s jugular, leading from behind his ear. There is a pool of it beneath his head, drenching his hair. Dick’s eyes widen, and he places an instinctual hand on the man’s shoulder to keep him from trying to move again.“Hang on. Did you hit your head?”A tiny grunt escapes the man. he grimaces as he raises a hand to his wound. “Good question. Sure feels like it.”“You’re bleeding,” Dick says, pointlessly, as the man has already pulled his hand away from the wound. Liquid glistens at his fingertips, dark in the early morning sunlight.

Then again – is it too dark? Dick pauses, narrowing his eyes; it still takes him a moment to realize that the fluid leaking from the man’s laceration is not natural crimson, but black. It is a slick substance that reminds Dick of oil – not at all the blood he’d been expecting.

The stranger’s eyes flicker from Dick to the blood on his hand again. He makes the connection at about the same time as Dick does. His dazed expression turns into one of understanding.

“I’m guessing you haven’t lived here long.”

“Just moved in last week,” Dick replies.

“You like it.”

“It’s alright.”

‘You just haven’t realized how exciting it is around here.”

“No kidding.” The man doesn’t seem alarmed that he’s leaking not-blood, or b his narrow escape from drowning. Dick has no idea what’s going on here, but figures he may as well roll with it. When the man raises an eyebrow at him, he meets his gaze evenly. “I guess you’re a part of that, huh?”

“I wouldn’t call myself interesting, but I can be exciting on occasion.” The man makes an attempt to sit up again; he gets woozy, but manages to stay upright. Dick steadies him with a hand on his shoulder, and the man casts him a look of unfiltered gratitude.

“You know,” Dick says, “I’ve got some bandages and water inside. Maybe you ought to come in.”

“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” replies the man.

It’s not an explanation, but it’s a start; Dick figures that whatever the heck is going on, helping out the genial, half-drowned guy on the beach is the best way to approach it.

As he helps the man up, he politely doesn’t mention the set of gills obvious along the outline of his ribs.

“So, you’re a –” Dick tests out the unfamiliar word on his tongue. “Mer?”

A sun that dawns in the wake of a huge storm is always particularly warm; it casts the stranger named Lewis Nixon’s face into sharp contrast. It lends him a glow that makes the his eyes all the brighter, his smile that much more disarming, and causes the faint scales lining his neck and collar to shimmer. He has borrowed a few pieces of Dick’s clothing, but the undershirt hangs low on his chest. Nixon doesn’t seem to have much care for decency.

He takes a long sip of his tea before setting it down with a sigh, and now the hint of amusement on his face has broken into a full-on smirk. “Last I checked, Dick, yup.”

They exchanged names as easily as they exchanged stories. Lewis Nixon, a creature of the sea, washed up on Dick’s beach -- it would almost be too much to believe. Dick is tempted to disregard his entire story, but he is not a rash man, and to do so would be to cling with desperation to flawed logic. After all, science hasn’t been able to prove that Merpeople don’t exist. There is a man with gills, scales, and black blood sitting in Dick’s living room. Logic doesn’t seem to hold much weight, now.

“And you went out drinking last night... for fun?”

“Humans are fun,” is all Nixon says, waving his hand as if to shoo the topic away. “You’re interesting. Some more than others.” He leaves it at that, and Dick doesn’t press.

“Then when you went back in the water --”

“I was still drunk, the storm knocked me into a pier, I smacked my head... and the rest is history. I can’t drown --” Nixon scratches absently at the gills on his chest. “But I can take a nasty knock on the head.”

“Seems like your skull is hard enough to take it,” Dick replies. He doesn’t mean for it to sound insulting, and only realizes too late; but Nixon’s smirk breaks into a grin.

“That it is.” He takes another sip of his tea. “Hey, you got anything stronger?”

“I don’t drink.”

“I take it back. You’re not interesting at all.”

The wicked spark in his eyes tells Dick he doesn’t mean it. He has the strangest feeling that the Mer is playing with him, like a new fascinating toy he just can’t put down; even odder, he doesn’t mind it. He's just as intrigued by Lewis Nixon, and wouldn’t mind figuring him out for himself.

“You can stop in for tea anytime,” he says, leaning forward in his seat. “I can’t promise to be interesting, but I can hold a decent conversation.”

Nixon’s eyes spark. He seems like he’d enjoy that very much indeed.

“There’s no tea in the ocean,” he replies with a languid shrug. “Guess I’ll have to take you up on that offer.

Dick huffs a laugh and settles back as he meets Nixon’s gaze. He takes it back. Living on the ocean might be different from what he’s used to... but maybe it won’t be so bad after all.

[k-kaspbrough]

Broken Fingered Promises // Chapter One ~ A Stutter With A Cast

Pairings: Kaspbrough // Stozier // Bilverly Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak is hopeless. He begrudgingly denies himself the guilty pleasure of boys, which could be an easy thing to do, pretending to lust for a woman, if it weren’t for his favorite green eyes and those soft-looking lips.  Word Count: 1,084 Important ‘Disclamers’: No actual sex. Mentions of sex/drugs/abuse/self-harm/ect. (Sex mentions mostly from Richie because he’s... well... Richie). 

Eddie

Fingers Clasped.

It's something that I've known forever and just pushed as far back in my brain as physically possible. I even forgot about it a lot of the time.

Sweaty palms, heavy breaths.

That was until just before the summer after our Freshman year in high school.

His hand gripped onto mine like his life depended on it. Well, right now, it probably was life or death.

“Where the hell a-are we go-going!?” Bill yells, out of breath.

“Away from here!”

And we run and run. Somehow, we reach the barracks.

Bill collapses to the gravel, heaving for breath.

“Bill…” I pant, “Your… Your hand…” I kneel before him, using my inhaler. By some strange stroke of luck, I was not having an asthma attack.

Bill looks at the limp hand in his lap.

I reach and try to lift it, but just my fingers brushing his skin caused him to recoil in pain. He lets out a strangled whimper as tears now start to run down his face. It's only then that I realize the situation we're in. Bruises littered his cheeks and his mouth was dripping blood, along with a gash on his forehead that cut through his eyebrow, blood running down into his eye and he didn't even seem to notice. Bill's eye was nearly swollen shut.

“Bill…” I caress his face.

“I'm f-fine.” Blood pours down his chin, his nose starts to drip also.

I frown, I think that he only noticed the blood just then, I think it just set in for him as well, he swallows and promptly starts to gag.

Bill vomits, blood from his mouth pooling out and being spat into the disgusting, barely-digested bile.

I instantly jump back out of instinct, almost letting out a scream as well.

“Are… Are you okay?” I stare, wide-eyed.

“Fine.” He shakes his head.

“You need to get medical help.” I feel my shaking hands in my lap.

“I-I’m fine!” He snaps, causing me to flinch. Bill never really lost his cool. This was an obvious sign that he was panicking.

“Bill, you hand is broken! You're fucking bleeding!” I shout in utter worry.

“Eddie! Stop fucking worrying so much!” Bill yells back at me and it actually, kind of, stings.

“I-... Bill… I-... I'm s-sorry…” I stammer getting that weird feeling in my throat that usually comes when I'm going to cry. I get to my feet, ready to start walking home.

“E-Eddie… I-I’m sorry… I-I didn't me-mean it.” Bill attempts to stumble to his feet as well, obviously dizzy from blood loss and pain, his knees give in and he drops back down, trying to catch himself. This ends with him in heavy tears, gasping and shouting in sheer pain from his destroyed hand.

I was hung over him, his hand was bleeding profusely, just like the rest of him. I pull his head into my lap, gently I caress his cheeks in attempt to comfort him, “It’s okay Bill… It’s okay.” I hush.

“I can't move it! Eddie! I-I can't move m-my hand! My-my f-finger are numb, I-I… Eddie, I can't f-feel them.” He sobs.

“We need to get to a hospital, Bill.” I say for the millionth time and he finally agrees.

|||

I got him to the hospital and stayed up in his room for a while. His parents were not very happy with me, believing that this was my doing, though, it made almost no sense. I was practically two inches tall compared to Bill!

Either way, they kicked me out and Bill was fucking out so he couldn't really help me out.

I left him a note though, telling him I was sorry about leaving and I'd be back in the morning. I felt bad about leaving but I had to and I knew mom was going to flip the fuck out when I got home, it was already pitch black outside and I had to walk home.

When I get to my door I brace myself before pushing it open. The yelling starts as soon as I stepped in, “Edward Kaspbrak!” Mom starts screaming.

“I’m sorry mom!” I frown, “ Bill got hurt and I had to take him to the hospital.” I try to explain.

“The hospital!?” She gasps.

“He got beat up and ended up breaking his hand and stuff.” I tell her, “He wasn’t sick or anything! I swear!” I insist.

Mother crosses her arms angrily at me. I mean, I definitely expected this, “Edward.” She again uses my full first name.

“Mom. He broke his hand!” I snap.

“Doesn’t matter! You could’ve been dead for all I know, Edward!” She scolds.

A huff, “It’s pretty much my fault he got hurt anyway!” I finally confess.

“What!?” Mom panics (As always).

Ah, Shit.

“Well, some assholes were trying to fight me and Bill stood up for me.” I shrug.

“Who tried to beat up my baby!?” She throws her arms around me and holds me awkardly. I choke as I, for some reason, get the thoughts from today, I think of Bill and I feel faint.

“Mom! Let go!” I shove myself from her arms, “I’m fine!” At this point I just wanted to go to my room and sleep.

|||

It took forever to get mom off my case. Don’t get me wrong, I do care about my mom and I… I love my mom… I guess. She is my mother. I have to love her, right? She was better before dad got sick… Before dad died…

In all honesty, I felt so trapped. I am happy! I think that I am at least. Force myself to think I’m okay…

She told me I was sick my entire life, babying me to make me think I really was. She always has made everything, no matter how small, into something so big. I’m not sick. The only thing that was actually real was that I had asthma. Everything I’ve been told had been complete bullshit.

The only thing wrong with me, though, is a complete different story. No amount of medicine can, nor will, ever fix me.

I like boys.

Especially ones with bright green eyes, with blonde hair that was cut in a way that makes it look so soft. I like the boys with warm skin, smooth hands, the ones with plump, pink lips and a sweet voice.

I like the boy with a stutter and a cast on his hand.

And I would never admit it.

Next Chapter: Two ~ Promises