#and she started banging on the window to startle him and then he took off but. uh. wtf

[angelsdean]

umm. something not so chill just happened.

[pucksandpower]

Hail to the Chief

Lando Norris x First Daughter of the US!Reader

Summary: in which Lando doesn’t realize exactly who he took back to his hotel room after the Miami Grand Prix (and almost causes an international incident in the process)

You stir awake, blinking slowly while you take in the unfamiliar surroundings. The sheets rustle as you stretch, a pleased smile spreading across your face. Strong arms tighten around your waist, and you glance over your shoulder to see Lando gazing at you with warm eyes.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss your bare shoulder.

You hum in contentment, snuggling back against his muscular chest. The sunlight streams in through the curtains, casting the hotel room in a cozy glow. Clothes are strewn across the floor, reminders of your passionate night together after meeting at the club.

Lando’s hand trails up your side, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. You shiver as his lips find the sensitive spot behind your ear, his breath hot.

“Ready for round two?” He whispers, his voice husky.

You twist in his arms to face him, locking your legs with his beneath the sheets. “I thought you’d never ask,” you purr, capturing his mouth in a deep kiss.

Just as things start heating up, loud banging erupts from the suite’s door. You break apart, startled. Lando frowns.

“Housekeeping?” You ask in confusion. More pounding follows, furious and insistent.

“I don’t think so,” Lando says warily.

Before either of you can react, the door crashes open, wood splintering. Men in dark suits pour into the suite, eyes hidden behind sunglasses. You yelp, grabbing the sheet to your chest. Lando scrambles upright, shock written across his handsome face.

“What the hell?” He exclaims.

The men converge on the bed in a swarm. Two sequester you, gently steering you away. The others tackle Lando, shoving him to the floor.

“Don’t fight it,” one orders as Lando struggles. He pins Lando’s arms behind his back.

“Get off me!” Lando shouts, face smushed into the carpet. “What is this?”

You know exactly what this is. Your security detail, come to collect you after last night’s escape. Panic rises in your throat.

“Please, don’t hurt him,” you beg the agents holding you.

Their grips remain firm but nonviolent. One talks rapidly into his earpiece, confirming the situation is handled. The apparent leader of the group stands over Lando, who glares up at him defiantly.

“Apologies for the intrusion,” the man states gruffly. “But you’re coming with us.”

Two agents haul Lando to his feet. He stands there in only his boxers, completely perplexed. You bite your lip, shot through with guilt. This is all because of you.

The agent in charge approaches you next, his gaze softening slightly. “Time to go home, ma’am. Your father is waiting.”

Lando’s head whips toward you so fast it must give him whiplash. “Ma’am? Your father?” His face goes ashen with dawning comprehension that there’s more to you than meets the eye. You wince, knowing there’s no way out of this now.

The agents begin herding you and Lando at a brisk pace through the ravaged hotel room door. Lando cranes his neck, trying to look at you.

“Y/N, what the hell is going on?” He hisses, stumbling along in the grip of two agents. “Who are you?”

You open your mouth, an apology on your lips. Before you can speak, the lead agent interjects sharply.

“She’s the First Daughter of the United States, son. And you’re in deep shit.”

Lando pales. “The President’s-”

“That’s right,” the man confirms. “And he’s mighty unhappy you took certain liberties with his little girl.”

Lando gulps audibly. Your heart twists with regret, seeing him so distraught. But the agents allow no further discussion, marching you both through the hotel’s back corridors. In minutes, you’re bundled into a black SUV with tinted windows. Tires screech as your motorcade peels away, sirens blaring.

You reach for Lando’s hand, relief flooding you when he doesn’t pull away. “I’m so sorry,” you whisper earnestly. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

He searches your face, brow furrowed. But his fingers tighten around yours. “It’s okay. Just tell me what’s going on. Please.”

You nod, knowing you owe him an explanation. But before you can speak, the SUV rolls to a stop on an empty airport tarmac. A sleek private plane awaits, engines rumbling. The agents hurry you both up the stairs into the lavish cabin.

Once settled inside, the lead agent fixes Lando with a solemn look. “We’re taking you straight to DC. The President wants to have a word with you both.”

Lando gulps again. You squeeze his hand, offering a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry. My dad’s just a little … overprotective sometimes.”

You nestle close to Lando as the jet taxis down the runway, hoping to provide some comfort. But he sits rigidly, face pale.

“Hey,” you say softly, “It’s going to be okay.”

Lando turns to you with wide, frightened eyes. “Okay? Your dad is the President! And I … I ...” He gestures helplessly at you, at a loss for words.

“Deflowered his only daughter?” You supply with a teasing grin.

Lando gulps loudly. “Oh god. He’s going to kill me, isn’t he? I’m a dead man. They’ll waterboard me or worse.”

You have to laugh at his flustered expression. “Relax, it won’t be that bad.”

“Easy for you to say,” Lando grumbles. “You’re not the one who’s gonna get shipped off to some CIA black site never to be heard from again.”

“Oh come on, he won’t go that far.”

Lando turns to you with wide, frightened eyes. “Are you sure? I’ve heard stories about shady government stuff. Secret torture chambers under the White House. Experimental poisons. Attack eagles trained to go for the jugular.”

You stare at him blankly for a moment before stating in a deadpan voice, “The eagles prefer to go for the liver actually. More tender that way.”

Lando lets out a whimper, his face draining of color. “Oh god, you’re serious?” He squeaks. “I knew it, I’m never getting out of this alive!”

You can’t keep a straight face any longer and burst out laughing. “Lando, relax! I’m just messing with you. There are no attack eagles or secret torture chambers.”

You take his hand and kiss his cheek reassuringly. “It’s going to be fine, I promise. My dad will probably just want to have a talk with you. That’s all.”

Lando still looks uncertain, but manages a shaky nod. “If you say so. But I think I’ll say a prayer or two just in case. Please tell me your old man doesn’t have a shotgun.”

“No shotguns,” you confirm, patting Lando’s knee. “But the Secret Service on the other hand ...”

Lando’s eyes widen in renewed fear. He clasps his hands together dramatically and looks upward. “Dear spirit of Ayrton Senna, please protect me from the wrath of the President and his highly trained special agents. I know not what awaits me in Washington, but I beg you to guard me from grievous bodily harm ...”

***

The plane touches down at Andrews Air Force Base, and you and Lando are swiftly escorted from the plane into an armored SUV. Lando fidgets nervously in his seat during the short drive through the capital, hands clasped tightly in his lap.

“It’s going to be okay,” you murmur, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. He attempts a weak smile in return.

All too soon, the SUV pulls up to the White House. You and Lando are ushered quickly inside by Secret Service agents, bypassing security checks. As you walk briskly through the historic halls, Lando gapes at the lavish architecture and priceless artwork adorning the walls.

“This is unreal,” he whispers. You give his hand an encouraging squeeze.

At last you arrive outside the Oval Office. The agents pause, stone-faced, before opening the tall wooden doors. Your stomach flip-flops with nerves as you enter behind them.

There, seated at the Resolute Desk, is your father — the President of the United States. He rises as you approach, his face impassive. You offer a timid smile.

“Hi, Daddy.”

Your father’s stern expression instantly melts. He circles the desk and pulls you into a warm embrace.

“There’s my little girl,” he murmurs, kissing the top of your head. “You had me so worried.”

Guilt gnaws at you. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t you worry about that now. I’m just glad you’re safe.” He pauses, then adds, “Though if you really wanted an F1 driver, why couldn’t it have been that nice American boy Logan Sargeant? Now there’s an upstanding young patriot.”

Your father holds you by the shoulders, surveying you with concern. Seeing that you’re unharmed, his gaze shifts to Lando hovering awkwardly behind you. Your father’s eyes harden, his jaw setting. Lando audibly gulps.

Stepping between them, you take a deep breath. “Daddy, this is Lando. The man I was with last night.”

You lace your fingers through Lando’s in a show of solidarity. Your father’s piercing stare makes him fidget.

“Lando Norris,” your father states coldly. “Formula 1 driver. British national. Born and raised in Bristol, England. Competes for McLaren Racing. Net worth of $30 million USD. Had unauthorized relations with my daughter approximately ...” He glances at his watch, “ ... twelve hours ago.”

Lando pales under your father’s recitation of his biography and recent activities. You shoot your dad a pleading look.

“Go easy on him, okay?”

Your father’s face softens slightly at your words. He beckons for Lando to step forward.

“Son, you have exactly one minute to explain yourself before I set the full force of the United States government on you for defiling my princess. And believe me when I say there are dark places in this world where no one will ever find you again.”

Lando looks ready to pass out. He glances at you in panic, mouth opening and closing soundlessly. You give his hand an encouraging squeeze, signaling for him to speak.

“I-I’m so sorry, Mr. President,” Lando stammers. “Obviously I didn’t know who Y/N was when we met last night. But I care about her a lot, truly, and I would never intentionally do anything to hurt her. I have nothing but respect for her and for you, sir.”

He straightens his shoulders, gaining confidence. “I understand I made a mistake, and I take full responsibility. But I promise, my intentions are honorable. If you’ll permit it, I’d like to properly court Y/N with your blessing.”

Your father studies Lando for a long moment, face unreadable. The tension in the room is stifling. Finally, he cracks a wry smile.

“Very well. You’ve got spunk, kid, I’ll give you that. And clearly my daughter sees something in you worth all this trouble. But understand this—” Your father leans in, eyes flashing. “You’ve got one shot to prove yourself worthy of her. Mess it up, and you’ll be scrubbing toilets in Guantanamo Bay for the rest of your short, miserable life. Are we clear?”

Lando audibly gulps again. “C-crystal clear, sir.”

“Good.” Your father claps Lando on the shoulder firmly enough to make him wince. Then he turns to you, expression softening.

“I’m not happy you were out all night without security, young lady. You’ll be grounded for two weeks. No cell phone, no social media, and no racing events.” You open your mouth to protest, but your father silences you with a raised hand. “However, in light of the circumstances, we’ll reduce it to one week. Consider yourself lucky.”

You sigh but don’t argue. Your father pulls you in for one more hug. “I’m glad you’re alright, sweetpea. Now run along back to the residence while I have a few more words with your new suitor here.”

You give Lando an encouraging smile as you exit the Oval Office. The last thing you see before the door shuts is your father clapping a hand on Lando’s shoulder again, steering him toward the Roosevelt Desk. “Have a seat, son. We’ve got lots to discuss ...”

Lando perches anxiously on the edge of the chair across from your father at the Roosevelt Desk.

“First things first,” your dad begins. “I expect you to treat my daughter with the utmost respect. No staying out all night and no unsavory activities. You will be a gentleman at all times. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Lando says quickly.

“Second, you are not to distract her from her studies. Y/N is on track to graduate top of her class at Georgetown and I won’t have anyone jeopardizing that.”

Lando nods. “Of course not, her education comes first.”

“Good,” your father says gruffly. “Third rule: you will check in with me weekly to provide updates on where you are taking her and what you are doing. And know that my security team will be monitoring your activities closely as well.”

Gulping, Lando agrees to the terms. Your father continues laying down the law for several more minutes, covering everything from curfews to social media posts to PDA.

“And if at any point I decide you are no longer an appropriate suitor for my daughter, you will end the relationship immediately and without argument. Is that clear?”

“Crystal clear, Mr. President,” Lando says quickly. “You have my word I intend to do right by Y/N.”

Your father studies him a moment longer before cracking a wry smile. “Well, you’ve got guts at least, son. Most boys your age would’ve wet themselves by now. I suppose I can give you a chance. But remember, one toe out of line and ...”

He makes a slicing motion across his throat. Lando audibly gulps.

“Yes sir! I understand completely.”

“Good man,” your father says, standing to clap Lando on the back. “Now let’s get you out of here before you really do pass out ...”

***

After the whirlwind events of the day, Lando is given a plush guest suite in the White House residence to spend the night. He collapses onto the king-sized four poster bed, emotionally exhausted.

Just this morning he woke up with the President’s daughter in his arms. Now he’s been threatened within an inch of his life by the leader of the free world. What a wild rollercoaster of a day.

A soft knock at the door makes Lando jump. Before he can respond, you slip inside, closing the door quietly behind you.

“Y/N!” Lando exclaims in a loud whisper. “What are you doing here?”

You smile mischievously, walking over to sit beside him on the bed. “What does it look like? I missed you.”

Lando’s eyes dart around the room, half expecting your father to burst out of the closet. “Are you crazy? If we get caught together your dad will annihilate me!”

You wave a hand dismissively. “Oh relax, no one patrols the residential wing’s hallways at night. We’re completely alone.” Leaning in, you brush your lips teasingly along his jaw. “Now where were we this morning before we were so rudely interrupted?”

Lando can’t restrain a small groan of desire, but retains the presence of mind to gently halt your roaming hands. “Y/N, we can’t. You heard your father’s rules.”

You make a face. “Come on, live a little! He won’t know as long as we’re discreet.”

Biting his lip, Lando wavers. Having you here, so warm and willing in his arms, is incredibly tempting. And technically the President had only forbidden unauthorized nighttime activities outside of the White House ...

Sensing his hesitation, you straddle his lap and cup his face in your hands. “I want this, Lando,” you murmur sincerely before kissing him deeply.

That does it. Lando kisses you back hungrily, pulling you flush against him. You let out a delighted hum, fingers spearing into his curls. Within moments you’re both stripped down to your underwear, hands greedily exploring.

But as things heat up, Lando abruptly breaks the kiss, eyes wide. “Did you hear that?” He whispers.

You still, listening closely. “Hear what?”

“I thought I heard something in the hall.”

You grin teasingly. “You’re being paranoid.” But you indulge him and climb off so he can check, wrapping yourself in a sheet.

Lando cracks the door open slowly, peering out. Seeing nothing, he lets out a breath and returns to the bed.

“Okay, false alarm. Now, where were-”

His words cut off with a yelp as you pounce, pinning him beneath you. Laughing, you silence any further protest with your lips. Soon Lando is kissing you fiercely once more, hands roaming your body.

Just as he’s unclasping your bra, Lando breaks the kiss again. “Wait, did you lock the door?”

You huff in feigned annoyance. “Of course I did!”

But Lando is already slithering out from under you to double check. You flop back against the pillows with a sigh.

“Lando, would you relax? No one is coming.” You give him your best pleading look. “Now come back to bed and finish what you started, handsome.”

That seems to do the trick. With one final glance at the locked door, Lando grins and rejoins you. His warm hands and mouth resume their sensual exploration.

You’re both completely lost in each other when suddenly the door handle rattles.

“Someone’s coming!” Lando whispers in alarm.

He hurriedly gathers up the sheets around you just as the door swings open to reveal a Secret Service agent.

“Oh, uh, hello?” Lando says, trying to sound casual despite being shirtless and flushed.

You hold perfectly still under the sheet, heart hammering.

The agent surveys the room suspiciously. “Thought I heard voices. Everything alright in here, Mr. Norris?”

“Yep, all good!” Lando says with forced cheer. “Just chatting on the phone. With my … mum. In England. Time zones, you know.”

The agent clearly doesn’t seem convinced, his gaze raking over the disheveled bed. But after a long pause he simply says “Very well. Have a good night, sir.”

Lando sighs in relief as the door shuts. After a moment, you peek your head out from under the sheet.

“That was close!”

Lando flops back onto the bed, laughing. “No kidding! I thought we were busted for sure.”

Tilting his chin up, you give Lando a slow, sensual kiss. “Now then, I believe you still have some unfinished business to attend to, Mr. Norris ...”

Lando searches your face then grins sheepishly, pulling you into his arms. “You’re absolutely incorrigible. Come here.”

***

For your first official date night, Lando takes you out for dinner in The Inn at Little Washington. You emerge from your room in a stunning silky dress, hair and makeup impeccable.

Lando’s eyes widen and he lets out an appreciative whistle. “Wow. You look incredible.”

He pulls you in for a quick kiss, careful not to smudge your lipstick. Just then, your Secret Service detail emerges, dressed in their standard crisp black suits and sunglasses.

The lead agent addresses Lando gruffly. “Alright, here’s the deal. We’ll be accompanying you tonight, but our goal is to stay invisible. Don’t acknowledge us, don’t make eye contact, just pretend we’re not there.”

Lando nods, looking uncertain. With their massive builds and conspicuous attire, ignoring the agents doesn’t seem likely. But he decides to just go with it.

At the restaurant, the hostess seats you and Lando at a cozy table for two. As promised, your detail blends into the background, taking up positions around the dining room. Lando tries his best not to glance nervously at the two imposing figures lurking near the entrance.

After you order, Lando reaches across the table to take your hand. “You really do look stunning tonight,” he says softly. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

You blush prettily. “Smooth talker. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Lando grins. Just then, the sommelier arrives to present the wine list. As he’s rattling off descriptions of merlots and cabernets, you notice Lando’s gaze drift over the sommelier’s shoulder to where two of your agents are posted nearby. You squeeze Lando’s hand to get his attention back.

“Uh, sorry, what was that last one?” Lando asks, snapping his focus back to the confused sommelier.

Once you’ve ordered wine and appetizers, the conversation flows smoothly. Lando has almost forgotten about your not-so-invisible security until the entrees arrive. The waiter sets down your plates with a flourish.

As he pivots to leave, he collides directly with the broad chest of one of your agents, nearly upending the tray of food.

“Oh! Pardon me, sir,” the waiter stammers. The agent, true to his training, ignores the flustered waiter and remains statue-still.

Lando has to fake a coughing fit to disguise his laugh. You cover your mouth delicately, eyes sparkling with amusement. So much for blending seamlessly into the environment.

As dinner progresses, Lando finds his gaze drawn again and again to your hulking shadows scattered around the restaurant. He watches one agent accidentally block a busboy trying to clear a nearby table. Another nearly takes out a hovering food runner as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. It’s like seeing massive, well-dressed bulls in a china shop.

When the check comes, Lando signs quickly then leans toward you conspiratorially. “Have I mentioned how incredibly normal this dinner has been? Just two totally regular people on a date without armed guards watching our every move.”

You have to smother your giggles behind your hand. “Oh yes, completely low-key. I forgot the agents were even here!”

As you exit the restaurant hand-in-hand, Lando murmurs under his breath, “Nothing to see here, just a guy and his girlfriend trailed by four gigantic men in black ...”

You dissolve into laughter, drawing confused looks from passersby. Lando grins and pulls you close. Invisible security or not, it was a perfect first official date. And as your convoy of not-so-covert agents escorts you safely home, he’s already planning many more to come.

***

A few months later, you join Lando at Circuit of the Americas in Austin for the United States Grand Prix. As you walk hand-in-hand through the paddock, Lando smiles and waves at the fans calling his name from behind the fences.

Up ahead, a large group of people round the corner. Their eyes light up when they see you both.

“Here we go,” Lando murmurs, dropping your hand to sign autographs and pose for selfies.

But as the group draws near, you realize they aren’t fans — it’s the Governor of Texas and his entourage.

“Y/N!” the Governor booms jovially, arms open wide. Behind him are several legislators, donors, and a gaggle of reporters. “What a wonderful surprise!”

He engulfs you in a bear hug before holding you at arm’s length. “Don’t you look lovely! How’s your father doing? I just spoke to him last week about the education bill.”

Lando stands by awkwardly as you’re enveloped into the group. You glance at him apologetically while greeting each person.

“Daddy’s doing well, thanks for asking! Keeping busy as always.”

“I’ll bet!” the Governor chuckles. He turns to holler at one of his aides. “Hey Jim, tell the White House we said hello to his beautiful daughter, would ya?”

The reporters surge forward eagerly, microphones extended. “Y/N, what brings you to Austin this weekend?”

You gesture to Lando. “I’m here supporting my boyfriend, Lando. He’s racing for McLaren.”

All eyes turn to Lando curiously. Flashing cameras make him squint. The Governor grabs his hand in an enthusiastic shake.

“Lando, eh? Good to meet you!” Without waiting for a response, he turns back to you. “Y/N, your father briefed me on the proposals to increase Pell Grant funding. Seems like an excellent plan ...”

As the Governor launches into policy discussion, Lando shifts awkwardly on his feet. You keep one eye on him while politely engaging with each person. More politicians approach to lobby you about your dad’s agenda.

“Your father’s infrastructure bill was brilliant!” One praises. “Make sure to tell him he’s got my full support.”

You smile. “I’ll let him know. I know he appreciates your vote.”

One donor pipes up excitedly. “I’ll be holding a high-dollar fundraiser next month in Dallas. Your attendance would mean so much ...”

You tactfully deflect, making no commitments. The reporters pepper you with questions about your studies at Georgetown and future political aspirations. You give diplomatic answers about focusing on the present while the Governor boasts of your potential.

“Y/N here is gonna be President herself one day!” He winks conspiratorially. “I’m calling it now, folks.”

Mercifully, an aide reminds the Governor he’s late for a meeting. As the group prepares to move on, he pumps your hand enthusiastically.

“It was fantastic to see you, Y/N. Tell your old man I said hello! Keep up the good work in school.” He spares a departing nod at Lando. “Nice meeting you, son.”

And with that, the entourage sweeps away. You let out a breath, turning to Lando. “I’m so sorry about that. I didn’t expect the Governor to be here.”

But Lando just stares after the departing politicians, looking slightly stunned. “I mean … I knew your dad was the President. But I guess it didn’t totally sink in until just now ...”

He runs a hand through his curls. “It’s like you’re royalty or something. Paparazzi, donors, governors … you’re a big deal, Y/N.”

You bite your lip. “Not by choice. I know the attention is weird, but I promise I’m still just me.” You take his hand, gazing at him earnestly. “None of those people determine our relationship. Only we do.”

Lando searches your face, then smiles. “You’re right. It’s just … surreal sometimes. But it doesn’t change how I feel or that I want to make this work.”

He squeezes your hand. You grin, feeling a rush of affection. Standing on tiptoe, you give him a lingering kiss. Around you, cameras flash as photographers snap the moment.

Lando chuckles as you break apart. “I’d better get used to that too, huh?”

“Comes with the territory,” you laugh. Taking his arm, you continue through the paddock. “Now come on. Let’s go watch qualifying before more politicians ambush us!”

***

The cheers of the crowd are deafening as Lando crosses the finish line in first place, finally claiming his first ever Formula 1 victory. You’re jumping up and down in the McLaren garage, absolutely elated for your boyfriend.

In the frenzy of celebrations after the race, you and Lando manage to slip away from the crowds and teams back to his hotel suite to continue the festivities in private. As soon as the door shuts behind you, Lando whoops and sweeps you up in his arms, spinning you around.

“I did it, baby! I finally did it!”

You grin, happiness bubbling up inside you. “I’m so proud of you! I knew this day would come.”

Setting you down, Lando crashes his lips to yours in a fierce, passionate kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, feeling like you might burst from joy.

Eventually you break apart, both flushed and beaming. Lando brushes his thumb over your cheek tenderly.

“I couldn’t have done this without your support, Y/N. You being here to share this means everything to me.”

You place your hand over his heart. “Wild horses couldn’t have kept me away. I’ll always be your biggest fan.”

Lando’s eyes darken and he pulls you in for another searing kiss. Your heartbeat quickens as his hands trail down your back, fumbling for the zipper on your dress. Blindly you shuffle toward the bed, leaving a trail of clothes behind you.

Things are just starting to really heat up when suddenly the hotel room door bursts open. Your Secret Service detail comes pouring in, guns drawn.

“HANDS IN THE AIR!” An agent bellows. “Ma’am, are you alright?”

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Lando yelps, grabbing frantically for a sheet to cover you both. “She’s fine! We’re just … celebrating!”

The agents quickly assess the situation. Their leader clears his throat, lowering his weapon.

“Apologies for the intrusion. Your smart watch alerted us to an elevated heart rate indicating potential distress. We believed you were in danger.”

You close your eyes, mortified heat flooding your cheeks. “Oh my god. It’s fine, everything’s fine! You all can go now.”

The agents shuffle out, mumbling apologies. Lando collapses back on the bed, absolutely hysterical with laughter. You smack his shoulder, which only makes him laugh harder.

“It’s not funny!” You exclaim, covering your flaming face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Lando gasps through his giggles. “It’s just — their faces! And then when they saw us ...” He dissolves into another fit.

Despite your embarrassment, his laughter proves contagious. Soon you’re both wiping away tears, sides aching.

Finally calming down, Lando strokes your hair back from your face affectionately. “Well, that’s one way to kill the mood.”

You groan, rolling your eyes. “No kidding. We desperately need to tweak the sensitivity on this watch.”

“Maybe we could take it off temporarily?” Lando suggests with a playful waggle of his eyebrows.

You shake your head. “I wish, but this watch has saved my life before. I can’t take it off.”

Lando’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Really? What happened?”

You absently toy with the watch on your wrist. “About two years ago I was out shopping and some guys tried to grab me. If I hadn’t been wearing this watch with its location tracker, my detail might not have found me in time.”

You shudder at the memory. Lando takes your hand, face filled with concern.

“That’s awful, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

You offer a reassuring smile. “It worked out okay. So as annoying as it can be, it’s staying on 24/7 for my safety.”

Lando nods seriously. “Of course. I would never want to jeopardize your security just for some fun.” He kisses your temple. “I guess we’ll just have to get creative when it comes to celebrating in private from now on.”

You grin mischievously. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

***

“So Lando, I gotta ask — how are things going with Y/N?” Max Fewtrell asks with a smirk through the webcam.

You feel your cheeks flush from where you’re sitting on the couch off-camera as Lando grins sheepishly. “Things are going great, thanks for asking.”

The chat explodes with messages.

Is she there?

We want to meet her!

Max chuckles at the chat’s reaction. “Sounds like the fans want you to bring Y/N on stream, what do you think?”

Lando looks over at you. “I mean, if you’re up for it they’d love to meet you.”

You hesitate, suddenly feeling shy at the thought of going on Lando’s stream. But the encouraging look on his face gives you courage. “I guess I can say a quick hello,” you say, walking over.

As you enter the frame, Max suddenly starts blasting “Hail to the Chief,” causing you to jump.

“Oh my god Max, really?” You groan, though you can’t help but laugh.

“I had to!” Max cackles. “The First Daughter deserves a proper entrance.”

Lando playfully rolls his eyes and pulls you into his lap. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the memes.”

You smile, leaning into Lando as you glance at the rapidly moving chat. Most of the messages are incredibly positive — welcoming you and talking about what a cute couple you and Lando are.

“Hi everyone!” You say with a small wave. “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you all.”

“She’s just a normal girl who happens to have the most powerful man in the world wrapped around her finger,” Lando jokes, kissing your temple.

You grin up at him then turn back to the webcam. “I guess our relationship can look pretty weird from the outside. But Lando makes me really happy, and I hope we have your support.”

The chat floods with heart emotes and messages gushing about young love.

Max smiles. “You two are adorable. But inquiring minds want to know — how did you meet?”

You and Lando share a knowing look. “Well...” he draws out. “We actually met in Miami during the Grand Prix last year.”

“Oooh an international romance!” Max teases.

You poke Lando playfully in the side. “What he’s leaving out is that we met at a club. I was there on a rare night out and he came over to ask me to dance.”

“Is that so?” Max grins.

“Hey now, no need for the details,” Lando says, tickling your sides as you squirm and laugh.

The chat is begging for the full story, so you decide to give it to them. “Okay, okay! So we danced all night and really hit it off. Then the next morning ...”

You trail off, trying not to giggle as Lando shakes his head. “Do we really need to tell them about the next morning?”

Yes! The chat unanimously agrees.

You pat Lando’s cheek. “It’s okay honey, I’ll protect you from the memes this time.”

Clearing your throat, you continue. “So the next morning, after a night of … fun, my secret service detail may have burst into Lando’s hotel room to bring me back home.”

Max bursts out laughing. “No way! Lando, you absolute madman.”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Lando exclaims, though he’s laughing too. “How was I supposed to know who she was?”

Max snorts. “I mean, who doesn’t recognize America’s Sweetheart?”

Lando smirks. “I’m British! And I was a bit distracted by her other, uh, assets.”

“Lando!” You swat his chest playfully as he cracks up, the chat going crazy over his flirtatious teasing.

“Anyway,” you go on. “I had to explain to my security team that I was fine and we were just hanging out. But of course they still dragged both of us back to the White House so Lando could meet my father.”

Max is wheezing. “No way, they took you to meet the President after an one night stand?”

Lando covers his reddening face. “It was mortifying. I was stumbling around half asleep still in last night’s clothes, reeking of vodka and bad decisions.”

You kiss his cheek, patting his leg consolingly. “Aww babe, you did great. My dad said he admired your composure given the circumstances.”

Lando peeks out from behind his hands. “Really?”

“Really,” you confirm. “He could tell how much you cared about me and that you weren’t just fooling around. And obviously he was right, since here we are a year later and happier than ever.”

Lando smiles softly, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. “Yeah, here we are.”

The chat has switched to mostly heart eye and aww emojis, gushing about you two being relationship goals.

You turn back to the camera a bit bashfully. “So yeah, that’s the story of how we met. Not exactly a fairytale beginning but ...”

You trail off as Lando reaches out to tilt your chin towards him, looking into your eyes earnestly. “It was the start of my fairytale,” he says softly.

Your heart flutters at his words. You lean in and kiss him tenderly. For a moment, it feels like you and Lando are the only two people in the world.

When you finally break apart, you rest your forehead against his. “You’re my fairytale too,” you whisper.

Lando’s eyes are full of love and wonder, as if he can’t believe how lucky he is to have found you.

“Awww!” Max interrupts your intimate moment. “You two are just too cute. The chat is loving this!”

You glance over to see the chat flooded with positive messages about your relationship. Smiling shyly, you take Lando’s hand and lace your fingers together.

“I’d say this turned out to be a pretty good stream, wouldn’t you?” Lando asks, grinning.

You laugh, giving his hand a squeeze. “Definitely one of your best.”

[wzrd-wheezes]

Not Half Bad - Marauders x Reader

AN - I'm a few minutes early but happy valentine's day, my loves. I wanted to post something that wasn't crazy romantic because I know today can be pretty lonely. So, enjoy some platonic marauders x reader fluff. This is my first time writing anything like this so please let me know what you think. 1.7k words.

Y/N startled awake, her head throbbing and her eyes swollen from tears. She groaned softly, feeling the weight of exhaustion as she rubbed her face, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. Then, the unmistakable sound echoed through her apartment again.

Bang, bang, bang. 

With a resigned sigh, Y/N muttered curses under her breath before she shuffled towards the front door. The harsh hallway light made her squint as she opened the door, taking a moment to register the trio standing before her. 

“Come on, you. Out of the way, we’ve got some serious work to do!” James declared, gently nudging Y/N aside to enter her apartment, with Remus and Sirius following close behind. 

“What the hell are you doing? It’s practically the crack of dawn!” She exclaimed; her voice still thick with sleep. 

“Oh, yeah? And you’d know what time of day it was, would you?” Sirius teased, theatrically throwing open her curtains, allowing light to flood into the room for the first time in days. 

“We’re on damage control. Y’know, since we haven’t heard from you in almost a week.” Remus explained, heading straight into the kitchen and flicking the kettle on. 

Y/N sighed heavily, feeling a pang of guilt for having shut off herself off from her friends after her recent break up. The end of her relationship had hit her harder than she had ever anticipated, leaving her feeling raw and vulnerable. She hadn’t felt up to facing her friends properly. She had shot them a quick message briefly explaining the situation before shutting off her phone and finding solace in her own company as she grappled with the emotional fallout.  

Remus busied himself in the kitchen while he waited for the kettle to boil. He had a tea towel swung over his shoulder as he started washing the dishes that had been piling up in the sink. James was getting the living room straight, opening windows, clearing up the endless piles of scrunched up tissues and fluffing up the sofa cushions.  

“You don’t have to do all this – I'm fine!” Y/N protested. 

“Stop fussing and just let us help you,” Sirius chimed in, poking his head around the doorway from where he was in the bathroom, “Now, get in here because I’ve just run you a bath.”  

Y/N’s protests died on her lips as she relented, allowing herself to be guided into the bathroom by Sirius’s firm but caring insistence. The soothing scent of lavender filled the air as she stepped into the room. Sirius shut the door behind her, allowing some privacy. He had set her some fresh towels and clean clothes on the side, even going as far as to light a few candles. Y/N let out a sigh as she sank into the tub, the warm water washing over her tired body. 

After a while, Y/N emerged from the bathroom feeling a bit lighter. She smiled at the three boys, appreciating their practical gestures of support. They had practically cleaned her whole apartment while she was in the bath. It had taken a bit of a hit in the week that she had been moping around. Remus had set her a steaming mug of tea on the coffee table, and she took it into her hands eagerly. 

“Feeling better?” he asked, patting the spot on the sofa next to him. 

“Much better. Thanks for the rescue” she smiled at each of them, “I owe you guys one.” 

“Nonsense.” James dismissed with a wave of his hand, “That’s what friends are for. Plus, I’ve been dying to bring out my superhero cape.” 

Remus snorted into his tea, “Superhero cape? More like a tea towel tied around your neck, mate.” 

“Hey, it’s all about the dramatic effect, Moony. You should try it some time.” James mock-glared at him. 

“I’d pay good money to see that.” Y/N laughed. 

“You nearly did!” Sirius remarked, “I literally had to pry it from around his neck before you got out of the bath.” 

Y/N burst into laughter at the mental image, shaking her head in amusement, “I can only imagine the heroic struggle.” She said, grinning at James, who rolled his eyes with a good natured sigh. 

“Yeah, well, it was a valiant effort on his part,” James admitted, earning a playful elbow jab from Sirius.  

It was the first time in a good week or so, that Y/N had laughed properly. She felt her spirits lift with each passing moment, the heaviness that had weighed in her heart for the last week beginning to fade. Their light-hearted banter and playful antics had a way of lifting her spirits, offering a welcomed distraction from her recent troubles. It was only when the boys stood up to leave that the empty feeling in the pit of her stomach started to return.  

Sirius noticed her face fall when they started getting ready to leave, each of them shrugging on their coats and slipping into their shoes.  

“Don’t worry, we’re coming back.” Sirius reassured her. 

“Yeah, you didn’t think that you could get rid of us that easily, did you?” Remus chuckled. 

“We’ve just got to nip out to get some stuff but then we’ll be back.” James promised. 

“What stuff?” she questioned.  

“Ask us no questions and we’ll tell you no lies.” James quipped, playfully tapping her on the nose before swiftly exiting.  

A bemused smile played on her lips as she watched her friends disappear. Although they had only been around at her flat for a few hours, it felt eerily empty now that they had gone. Collapsing onto the sofa, she reached for her phone, hesitating before finally switching it on after days of deliberate avoidance. There was the expected flurry of messages from her friends and family checking in on her and she made a mental note to reply to them later on. She quickly deleted a particularly nasty text from her ex before she gave herself chance to read it properly. As the screen blinked back up at her, the date glared back with unexpected significance.  

Valentine’s Day. 

The realisation hit her and stirred up memories and emotions that she had been trying to suppress. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of loneliness as she thought back to past Valentine’s Day spent with her now ex-partner. For a moment, she regretted even switching on her phone; ignorance might have been bliss on a day like today. Tears prickled in her eyes and she bit down on her lip in a futile attempt to hold back the flood of emotions.  

Just as she had been earlier that morning, she was brought back to reality by the door of her apartment swinging open and James, Remus and Sirius bustling back inside.  

“Told you we wouldn’t be long!” James said brightly, though the look soon dropped from his face the second his eyes fell on Y/N. 

“Oh, no! What’s happened? Everything okay?” Sirius rushed over and crouched in front of her, so his face was level to where she was slumped on the sofa. 

“It’s silly,” she sniffled, “I turned on my phone because obviously I’ve been avoiding it for ages and I saw the date. It’s just... overwhelming.” 

Remus moved to sit beside her, his presence a comforting anchor as he place a hand on her shoulder. 

“It’s not silly at all, Y/N. Valentine’s Day can be shit. Especially after everything you’ve been through.” he said softly, offering her a sympathetic smile. 

James signed, rubbing the back of his neck as he stepped closer, “We came over today because... well we didn’t want you to spend Valentine’s Day alone. We didn’t realise that you didn't even know what day it was. We’ve kind of fucked up really, haven’t we?”  

“Don’t be daft.” Y/N wiped the tears away with her sleeve, “You’ve already cheered me up so much just by being here.” 

“Let’s not stop now then, eh?” Sirius said, patting her affectionately on the head as he stood up, “We’ve got plenty more planned for this evening. Why don’t you go get yourself freshened up while we get set up in here?” 

Y/N smiled gratefully and obliged, making her way to the bathroom. She splashed her face with cool water, letting it wash away the remnants of tears that clung to her skin. As she caught sight of herself in the mirror, she forced a smile onto her face in an attempt to make herself feel better. She quickly ran her hands through her hair and smoothed out the wrinkles in her clothes. 

In the other room, the boys had sprung to action. James rummaged through the bags of shopping, his brows furrowed in concentration as he set about preparing dinner. Remus, ever the organiser, rearranged the furniture to create a cosier and more comfortable set up for them. Sirius, with his flair for the dramatic, set about lighting candles and pulled an assortment of decorations from his bag to add a festive touch to the occasion. 

As Y/N stepped out of the bathroom, her eyes widened in surprise at the transformation that had taken place in the living room. The warm glow of candlelight danced across the walls, casting soft shadows across the room. Tears of gratitude welled in her eyes and with a shaky breath she made her way to join them. 

“Speechless, huh?” Sirius joked gently, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. 

Y/N managed a watery smile, “I don’t even know what to say.” 

“Nothing needs to be said.” James stepped in from the kitchen, floral apron tied around his waist.  

“Just know that we’ve got your back always, yeah?” Remus chimed in.  

With a grateful nod, Y/N settled into her seat at the table, feeling a sense of peace wash over her.  

“Nice apron, James.” Y/N teased, unable to contain her laughter.  

“What can I say? Real men wear floral.” he quipped, setting down plates of food in front of each of them.  

“Ah! I almost forgot!” Sirius stood up quickly from the table and disappeared into the other room.  

He returned a few moments later, holding a bouquet of flowers. He presented them to her with a flourish. Y/N gasped in response. 

“You really didn’t have to!” she protested, her voice filled with gratitude, “You’ve already done so much for me today!” 

“We wanted to.” Remus smiled. 

“Besides, we’d be pretty crappy mates if we let you go a whole Valentine’s Day without flowers.” Sirius chuckled. 

“Yeah, it’s practically a cardinal sin to neglect such an important tradition.” Remus nodded in agreement.  

“See? We’re not completely useless, are we?” James nudged her, grinning. 

“Nah, you’re not half bad.” she beamed back at them, “I might even go as far as to say that you’re the best.” 

[piss-pumpkin]

🕷️restless nights🌑

Douce amere chapter 14, (older)Dipper pines x reader, ~4.1k words Prev Masterlist

Quick tw- gets a little angsty at the end. But like y’all probably knew that was coming.

Sleeping at the mystery shack seemed to be the only cure. Each night spent outside of its walls yielded a worse nightmare than the last. Shadows that swallowed and ate you, creatures out of creepypasta stalking you, your friends dying, your brain had it all. 

It only took twice more for you to crack, text dipper in the night and go sleep at the shack, much to Mabel’s annoyance when you woke her up getting in. The nightmares always seemed to fade in the attic, next to Dipper. So how could you mind? It was an excuse to stay over there more. Aunt Susan didn’t mind. It’d seemed like you found a refuge.

And how could you complain? You spent night after night burning through mystery thrillers with Dipper under the blankets, always smiling when he was able to guess the ending. 

On the second night in a row you stayed there, you both finished the book you started with him, the mystery story with the two brothers, and their detective partner. And it broke broke both of your hearts when, just after the partner and the brother got together, the partner betrayed him. Ending in the death of Dippers favourite character. 

You and Dipper gasped together when you read those lines, waking Mabel up, much to her annoyance. In truth you were mostly shocked that the page turning, quiet comments, and flashlight weren’t enough to do it. 

As she complained, Dipper mumbled, “hey, we’re grieving here!” To her across the room. 

It didn’t take much for her to grumble and roll over, quickly falling back asleep. 

You made a dramatic show of leaning your head on Dippers shoulder. “I hate that you were right,” you sighed. 

“I wish I wasn’t,” he responded hollowly. Guess he was really into it too. “I don’t think this was necessary.”

You slithered and squinted around, filled with restless energy, properly woken up by the tragic ending. “I guess it’ll be just him and the other brother at each others throats in the next one, huh?”

Dipper nodded, “It won’t be as good without my favourite.” 

You gently patted his back, nodding along.

”Y/n, he was my boy,” he complained, nearly whining. He leaned his head back to bang it against the headboard, earning another groan from Mabel. 

“Dip,” you sighed, “I know. It’s a grieving time.”

”For the love of fuck, please grieve quieter,” Mabel shot. 

Dipper groaned, and you sighed yet again. “Fine, fine,” you whisper-yelled across the room. You lightly grabbed Dippers arm, and shook it a little. “Come on, kitchen,” you said simply, rolling out of the bed.

He looked up at you bitterly where you stood, refusing to move, and crossing his arms. The book was discarded on the sheets beside him now. He was almost pouting. 

You sighed, raising your brow and offering a hand. Wordlessly, you gestured with you head towards the door, and then with your eyes at Mabel. 

Not without grumbling, he accepted your hand, clasping you at the forearm. 

You smirked. With one fatal motion, you heaved him off the bed, sending him tumbling forward, feet hitting the ground running. One of the blankets came falling after him. 

He let out a startled yelp, and Mabel quietly snickered. You could faintly hear her murmur a small ‘deserved’ under her breath as she rolled over under the covers again. 

You released Dippers arm and slithered your hand down to lace your fingers together as you led him out of the room. His hand quickly squeezed yours in response. 

You shut the door behind you as you left. When you were alone in the attic foyer, Dipper lightly head butted you. His forehead landed between your shoulder blades. “You’re just salting my wounds, Y/n,” he muttered.

You smiled softly at the floor, and turned around. Your hands easily found their way to his waist, even in the dim light of the moon through window. Now it was your turn to rest your forehead on him, leaning on his chest. “We deserve snacks after an emotional ordeal such as this, Dip.”

”Ugh, when are you ever wrong,” he muttered, resting his chin on your head. 

“I can still hear you fucks!” You heard fairly from the bedroom. 

You snickered. Dipper giggled. And you pulled apart to go down the stairs. 

The kitchen wasn’t amazingly stocked. Mostly ingredients, less snacks. And the shelves were half full of Stan’s apocalypse prep meat, which Dipper advised to avoid at any cost. 

Scrounging around in the back cupboards yielded a half empty bag of chips and a box of graham crackers. Good enough, you supposed. You sat on the counter beside the stove, tearing into a pack of the crackers. “I just can’t believe his partner would do that to him. His boyfriend, at that.”

Dipper stood beside you, leaning in the counter with his elbows. “What I can’t believe is that the authors would just kill off a main character like that in the first book!” He said, whisper yelling. He angrily crunched a chip. 

“Bold move, bold move,” you nodded, eating a cracker of your own. Then a chip. Trades. As you reached into his bag, he reached into yours. 

“I hope the next books aren’t boring without him,” Dipper whined. 

“I’m willing to hear the authors out on this one,” you mused, kicking your feet back and forth. “It could be good character development, and it definitely raises the stakes.”

”But at what cost,” Dipper said, looking over at you dramatically. 

                                             …

On another, similar night, You, Dipper and Mabel were cramped together on the couch, watching the worst Gravity Falls horror movies on the ‘used to be about history channel’. It always seemed to play absolute trash at one in the morning. You were in the centre, with the twins on either side, and doing your best to annoy both by man spreading incessantly. 

“Hey, do you guys think Pacifica likes girls?” Mabel asked out of the blue, stealing your attention away from ‘Evil Vampire Clowns.’ You and Dipper turned your heads towards her in unison, brows raised.  

You pursed your lips, thinking back to her old crush on Dipper. “I mean, she’s never said anything about a girl,” you, said, nodding your head back and forth to try and shake out a thought. 

“Yeah, I don’t know,” Dipper said, adding nothing. 

You crossed your legs, and leaned back on Dipper to fully face Mabel. “Why,” you asked, suppressing a smirk  and shooting her the gay hand gesture. 

She giggled, “you know,” and did the gesture right back. 

A grainy scream from the tv cut through the room as you snickered, and Dipper laughed, “since when?”

She shrugged, “Well, now I guess,” she said, flipping her phone around to show you. It was open to Pacificas Instagram. She had just posted a few pictures of her posed with her pony. You snickered as you saw, thinking of all the complaining she did about having only one pony. And at her horse girl antics. Mabel smiled, retracting her phone, “I mean, she’s kinda cute… I guess I’ve been thinking about her more lately,” Mabel mused.

Dipper shifted slightly behind you, also turning away from the tv, putting his back to the armrest. “Have you asked her yet?” He put and arm around you as he moved, trying to better himself as your pillow. 

Mabel suppressed a small nervous smile, “No, not yet,” she said, waving her head side to side. “I don’t know if I wanna come on too strongly right now,” she admitted. 

You raised your brow, “That doesn’t sound like you.”

She winced, and then her face softened as she looked at the floor. “You’re not wrong…” she pursed her lips, and smiled slightly, voice brimming with optimism, “I kinda wanna scope it out.”

”You should,” Dipper shrugged.

”We should,” you snickered, idly taking Dippers hand in yours as it rested over your shoulder. “I think together, with our expert deduction skills, could figure it out.” It seemed like you knew more than them… but maybe you didn’t know everything. You leaned your head back onto Dippers chest further, squeezing his hand. Good chance, even. 

Mabel smiled, and kicked her feet out to annoy the both of you, resting on both your laps. “You might be onto something there…” she said deviously, clasping her hands together. “It may be time to do some, investigating, sussing, if you will.”

You could practically feel Dippers brow furrow. “Are you scheming?” He asked tentatively. “You’re not just gonna ask?”

Mabel blew a few stray hairs out of her face, “Bro, you’re one to talk,” she sighed. 

He did his best to kick her, but it was difficult, considering where he was on the couch. His foot ended up lightly tapping her on the shin. 

Your phone was somewhere in your pocket, and after a minute or so of fishing, you managed to get it out. “Okay,” you said, unlocking the screen. “Scheme or no scheme, let’s make some plans.”

You started to text Pacifica, pursing your lips as you thought, “What if we go shopping?” you said, idly typing it in, waiting for them to confirm or deny. 

Mabel clapped her hands, grinning, “Oh! Yes!” 

You knew Dipper opinion on shopping days was far lower than Mabel’s, but he didn’t object, instead shrugging his shoulders behind you. Probably as good as you’ll get. “Then it is done,” you said, sending the text. 

Mabel grinned, “based.” 

You phone vibrated right away as she replied. “Damn, that was fast,” you muttered. Your eyes skimmed the message, squinting from the blue light. “Okay, she’s free on Saturday,” you said, pleasantly surprised. “Looks like we’re set.”

                                           …

And that Saturday eventually came, believe it or not. And lucky you, Stan let you take his car. Even luckier, there weren’t any cops on the road to pull you over for driving without a license. 

When you stepped out of the shack, and into the driveway, the sunlight seemed blinding. You shielded your eyes, trying to fight your rapidly growing headache. Sunglasses. You dug around for them in the car before you started driving.

Finally some fresh fucking air.

It was true that you had spent most of your time in the shack. And it was very nice outside, you as to admit. 

Dipper was in the passenger seat, and Mabel in the back, told to lay down if there were any sirens, or suspicious looking cars on the side of the road. You adjusted the seat, plugged in your phone for music, and turned the keys. To the Gravity Falls mall. 

“You guys really need to get your licenses,” you sighed, pulling out of the driveway. 

Dipper turned to you, brow furrowed, “you don’t even have yours,” he deadpanned.

“Yeah,” you exaggerated, “If y’all had yours I wouldn’t have to be driving you around illegally.”

Mable chimed in from the back, “But then who’d be your little passenger princess?” She asked, punctuating herself by kicking the back of Dippers seat. 

You rolled your eyes, grinning as you looked over to Dipper, “I could be the princess for once,” you beamed, pointing at him with a free hand.

He looked horrified. “Y/n, I’m begging you, please look at the road,” he utter quickly. 

You laughed, swerving slightly as you looked back in front of you. “Will do, princess.”

You saw her when you drove into the parking lot, Pacifica was waiting at the mall. She stood outside, leaning against the walls and scrolling on her phone, ever punctual. You tried to park near her, grinning as you shut the car door and locked up as Mabel waved at her. 

Shooting star always comes off a little desperate.

What? You scrunched your face as you and Dipper caught up to Mabel, who was already chatting up Pacifica. You grumbled, zipping the keys up in your bag. That was a weird thought. 

Your confusion broke when Dipper nudged you. He leaned over slightly to whisper as you drew closer to Mabel and Pacifica. “Dude, you look like you’re thinking up a scheme,” he said. Half asked.

You shook your head, staring at the concrete beneath your feet as you walked. “No, not that…” you mused. “I dunno.”

Dippers brow raised, but he didn’t say anything. You’d caught up with the girls, it was too late for any plots, plans, or any such schemes as he thought. You bit the inside of your cheek. Let him think that. 

                                            …

It had been an hour and a half at the mall, and you were starting to break. Between the dull and persisting headache, and Mabel’s increasingly unsubtle ways of trying to sleuth out if Pacifica would date her, you were nearing the limit.

Drastic measures were necessary. Or at least seeming like the better option. So eventually, you shot Dipper a knowing look, redirected Mabel’s attention to a knitting supply store, and walked off with Pacifica.

And fortunately for you, there was a cute candy store with a shelf of plushies, immediately stealing your attention away from the task at hand.

“So like, what’s up with her?” Pacifica asked dryly, coming up behind you as you looked through the shelf. 

You sucked a breath in through your teeth, picking up one stuffed animal, then another, then a third, cycling between putting down and picking up. Too many choices. “Yeah, I suppose you would’ve noticed, huh.”

“Yeah,” she snickered. “Hard not too. So do feel free to let me know what’s going on.”

You sighed, putting a plush down back on the shelf. “Do you, per chance, like girls?” You asked optimistically. 

Her lips parted, brow raised. “Why?” She asked cooly, brow raised. 

You rolled your eyes, “take a wild guess,” you laughed. You picked up a different stuffed animal, a little frog this time. ”I know a girl that likes you, but…” you started, looking over and squeezing the frog. “I guess she doesn’t know about your kinda-sorta crush on Dipper?” 

Pacifica sighed, and pointed a finger gun at the shelf. “Just pick one, if you’re really that cheap I’ll just buy it for you, daddy’s money and all.”

You grinned, eyes racing back to the shelf to find the cutest little guy.

Pacifica snickered, but then sighed again. “I dunno,” she shrugged while you touched every last one of the plushies. Trying to find the softest. One of these guys could cure any headache, probably. “I mean, I do, actually-“

You turned to look at her, mouth wide open in surprise.

”-but,” she continued, “my parents don’t really like that kind of stuff, so I don’t think about it much.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

”Oh,” you couldn’t help. “That’s not good.”

Pacifica snickered, “yeah. I mean, it hasn’t been a big issue.” She crossed her arms, brow raised. “Since I liked Dipshit for a while.”

You hummed, finally deciding on a plushy, and holding it close to your chest.

“I’m pretty much over that, though,” she shrugged, starting towards the till. “So, I guess the question is relevant again.”

You nodded, “So… what should I tell the girl who likes you?”

Pacifica paused, presumably to think, as she stood in front of the cashier, and pulled out her card. She declined when they asked her if she wanted the receipt. As you walked, putting your new little stuffed friend into your bag, Pacifica sighed. “Do I know who she is?”

You looked around, checking the coast was clear. “Maybe,” you relented. “I mean, your free to guess.”

”After the events of today, I think I do have my suspicions,” Pacifica said, pursing her lips and looking at the floor.

Ah. “Well, then I feel less bad about hinting,” you said. 

“Please,” she chuckled. “Subtle isn’t in that girls vocabulary.”

You looked around for signs leading to the food court, eventually finding one far off to the right. You pointed it out to Pacifica, and started in that direction to regroup. “She actually was trying to be, today, I think,” you said.

I guess she always fails! 

You shook your head. That’s mean. 

Pacifica smiled, “yeah, oddly enough I did get that impression.” She sighed as the food court came into view, and you both started to scan the crowd for the twins. “Okay, here’s what to tell her,” she started, hands in the air in declaration. “I do like girls, but right now what I need is…” she pursed her lips, “time to think,” she finally said. “I’ve never thought of her like that, and I still kinda-sorta have my other feelings…” she looked over at you, and smiled, “so the verdict is; I need a little time, I don’t know.”

You nodded, “a respectable position, I’ll pass on the message.”

She grinned, “perfect. Come with me to get sushi,” she said, pointing at one of the restaurants. 

You got the sushi. And sat with the twins. And rested your forehead in your hand to try and ease your head. And Dipper raised his brow at you in questioning from across the table. And you smiled at him, nodding as if to say, I’m fine.

You sure are! 

Pacifica ate her sushi. Mabel had fries. And Pacifica shot you a look of optimism and understanding before she left with Mabel to check out some expensive chocolate store. Good for them. 

If there was one thing you never had to buy, it was sweaters, because Mabel was an absolute beast. So when you and Dipper went to a clothing store, both of you skipped right past the wooly section and into the summer. 

I honestly don’t know how she does that. Super weird. 

You nodded along with yourself as you carefully skimmed each hanger for shirts. 

“Y/n, yes or no?” Dipper asked, holding a pair of baggy jeans. You nodded yes, wincing as your head moved. What was up with your head today? 

Nothing!

Yeah, probably that. Dipper seemed happy with your answer, turning around to start towards the fitting rooms. “Hey,” you called, before he could go. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to the washrooms.”

He nodded, and when his back was turned, you felt your forehead. Maybe splashing some water on your face would do it. Either way it was a breather. You traced your hands along the clothing racks as you made your way out into the halls. Soft under your fingers. 

Heh.

The mall wasn’t crowded today, lucky enough for you. And the people of Gravity walls were more then notorious for noticing little. You felt okay sighing and groaning on your way, knowing nobody would pay any mind.

Heheh. 

In a blink, your dull ache of a head pain started to throb. 

Wow! You’re dumb!

 What? You shook your head. This was dumb. This fight you were having with your thoughts lately. You punched the bridge of your nose, and tilted your head back, trying to get back on track.

No, no no. You gave me the perfect opportunity. We’re on my track now. 

You stopped, like deer in headlights, your blood ran cold. What? You stood in front of the bathroom entrance, locked in a battle with yourself. What. Was happening.

You know, for such a fighter, you really are an idiot. 

You had to fight to turn around, somehow. This… you needed to find Dipper.

What, you think pine tree can save you? You make me laugh! No, you’re not making it back to him. You really shouldn’t have left.

You scowled, even as your thoughts screamed at you.  Fuck you. Yes I am. You took a step. A single, shaky step, but it was a full foot closer to the clothing store than you were a second ago. Maybe if you were lucky, you’ll be able to make another one. 

Even still! You’re still going! You humans are crazy! 

You were sweating. And took a few more steps until you got dizzy, your vision blurring and spotting at the edges, and sending you sideways to lean on the wall for any support. It was cold under your fingers. The ambient voices of the mall seemed to fade away as your ears started to ring. Dipper would probably know what to do. He was good with… weird stuff. 

He sure is. Ha, maybe that’s why he likes you! You’re not getting there though, Y/n. As much as I respect how much effort you’ve put in, you’re done now. You couldn’t stay in that shack forever. 

Stay in the shack? You groaned, leaning your head against the wall as you blinked, and the world with your eyes closed looked too similar to when they were open. Ugh. What did you do? 

I’m shocked you haven’t realized. But glad! I didn’t think I’d be back so soon.

Realized what? You winced, you headache throbbing. Okay. This situation is workable. You trailed down the wall to the ground, sitting. This had to be workable. 

Not this time. 

You stood up. 

I need to find Dipper. That’s the win condition. Once I find him, this is a winnable situation. 

“Not anymore,” you said, grinning. 

What? You tried to look around, but nothing happened. You tried to move at all, but nothing happened. 

But you were moving. You were digging around in your backpack, you were clutching it close to your chest. Your finger finally landed on a pair of sunglasses, the ones you kept in case it got too bright while driving. The ones you wore on the way in.

“Nice,” you said. Your voice. Not your words. “You make it too easy for me.”

What’s going on? 

You could feel yourself smirk. “It’s my body now,” you laughed. “Not yours.”

What are you?

”Smarter than you?” You put the sunglasses on, and suddenly your vision was darker. Your head fell slightly as you laughed under your breath, and you whispered, practically to the floor. But you heard. “It’s Bill,” he said. With your voice. “As in Cipher? That guy your boyfriend hates?” you said sarcastically.

Oh. Fuck. 

“Yeeeeahhh,” you nodded. “They’re finally getting it.”

You stood up. Or… he did. And you were a passenger. And he started to walk. And you stared aimless in front of you. And you were glad you couldn’t hear his thoughts like he seemed to be able to hear yours. Even if knowing could help you. Or save them. Knowing what somebody like him was thinking might drive you over the edge. If you had any control over it, you’d probably be crying. 

“I’m gonna find him,” you said. He said. Not you. He shook your head, “yes, it’s me, not you. Glad you’ve caught on.” He walked, a bounce and strut in his step as he found his way back to the store you left Dipper in. “I’m going to torture your pine tree, I think,” he said under your breath. 

Please don’t. Your thoughts were growing all the more desolate. Desperate. Defeated. 

You got to the edge of the store, a wide grin plastered on your lips. Then you saw him. And so did Bill. And he started walking towards him, your feet, your legs, your arms swinging at your sides. His sides now. Until you were so close to Dipper.

”Hey Dip,” Bill greeted happily. You pointed at the glasses, “you fuck with the shades?” You laughed.

They were heart shaped. Your silly shades, if you will. Dipper smiled, brow raised, “eh,” he said, tilting his hands side to side. 

Bill rolled your eyes, “Whatever, man, your one to talk when it comes to style.”

Dipper put his hand on his heart, feigning hurt. He quickly recovered from his heartache though, as he stepped closer to ask, “Are you good? You seemed a little,” he paused, giving you a so-so gesture with his hand. 

Bill nodded, “Yeah, I think I was just dehydrated,” he said, waving your hand in dismissal. “I was drinking bathroom sink water, and now I feel great.”

Dipper grimaced, “That feeling great shocks me.”

“Suit yourself, but you’ll never find more… quenching..  water,” Bill smiled playfully. “You think we should rendezvous with them,” he tilted your head side to side, smirking. “See if anything crazy happened?” 

Dipper chuckled, “Think Mabel’s asked her out yet?”

Dipper. Please notice. It’s not me. I love you.

Bill stifled a laugh, covering your lips. “I’d say it’s fifty-fifty, despite my advice.”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “I’d take those odds,” he said. “Let’s go.”

He has pretty eyes. While Bill spoke, you stared at Dipper. He seemed so normal. The same. He had hot girl eyelashes, somehow. 

“Awesome,” Bill smirked. “Let’s.”

Next

Yeah. We’re in this part of the story now. Pray for me. I need it. For everything. Finals are next week and I’m sitting here doing this.

Taglist: @cipheress-to-k-pop @dead-esque (oops I forgot to add this when I first posted)

[magnolia-among-the-stars]

fat funny friend (jake seresin pt 8/?)

PART OF MY “WHATEVER THIS IS” SERIES WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE

PAIRING: JAKE ‘HANGMAN’ SERESIN x Female Plus Size Bartender!Reader

NICKNAME: Sunshine

Warning: A bit of self-body shaming

It goes without saying but I do not give permission for anyone to use my work or copy it somewhere else.

PLOT: Penny Benjamin’s niece works at The Hard Deck, saving the money she earns to get out of the west coast and put herself through Graduate School. What happens when a pretty boy pilot ends up as her fake boyfriend?

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR / PART FIVE / PART SIX / PART SEVEN / PART EIGHT / PART NINE / PART TEN / PART ELEVEN / FINAL PART

Two weeks. It had been two weeks and the pain of Jake’s absence took a heavier toll on you than you had previously expected, and you weren’t sure how much more you could handle it. Your home had become a hollow and messy disaster of a landing zone, blankets everywhere along with half eaten containers of take-out food. You hadn’t showered in a few days, your hair now only spun up into lackadaisical buns as you wiped your mouth on your sleep shirt and closed your eyes to the sound of the next rerun of Law & Order: SVU.

In the days immediately following Halloween, you were sure he was going to call, apologize for his lack of communication. You had tricked yourself into thinking perhaps he had a horrifying call to action and had been on an aircraft carrier before dawn.

But days later, you ran into Phantom and Rooster while they were out for coffee. Bradley looked at you confused, a wash of a smile etching on his face. It told you he knew, somehow and that smile made all these fantasies crumble out of your head and sent you into a spiral of pain and rejection in a way you never thought possible.

You’d let Jake in, all the way. Something you had vowed to yourself that you wouldn’t do again without great sacrifice. Instead, you were met with resistance and insecurity that bubbled through your chest and burned your esophagus raw as you wept and screamed out into the abyss of your lonely apartment. You took a few days off work, Penny texting back with a knowing ‘Take your time.’ You felt sick, throwing up in hopes that the weight in your tummy would dissipate but to no avail.

            A knock on your door startled you awake out of a groggy fog, a numb vibration coming over you from your spot on the couch. You groan a little, turning away from the door to rest your face against the fabric with a heavy sigh. The loud banging continues on, and you grunt again, turning back to roll off the couch. You mosey over to the front door and check the window, only to pull the door open. “Nat, now isn’t a good time.”

            “What the hell happened?” she demands, stepping inside and past you without hesitation. Her harsh tone takes you by surprise and your shoulders push back as you find energy for the first time in weeks.

“What the hell happened?” you repeat with an almost mocking tone. “Well, let’s see,” you cackle with a bitter wave rushing through your body. “What happened is that Bagman did what Bagman does best. He hung me out to dry.”

“What?” the word falls out of Nat’s mouth in a way she can’t help. “That’s impossible.”

“Well, if you’ve come here to mock me Nat, you can fuckin’ go because I've had it with Naval Aviators fucking destroying my subconscious so,” you pace over to the front door and swing it open. You stare expectedly at her as her stance deflats suddenly, her gaze downcast as she starts to swallow down what you’ve just blurted out.

“No Y/N, I’m not trying to,” she takes a slow and heavy breath before glancing back up at you. “Hangman is miserable. He’s a hollow shell of himself...I figured you’d stomped all over his heart because I’ve never seen him like this before.”

The mention of Jake’s state should tug at your heart strings. It should make your heart flutter that he’s so lost without you, and he’s so desperately broken that the absence of your presence was the clear notion to Nat that something must’ve happened. But you’re too bitter. Too broken to even have the slightest bit of sympathy for the piece of shit. A heartless, venomous cackle bubbles out of you in a way you’ve never experienced before. This is what he’s done...look what he’s turned you into.

“That’s hilarious. He’s a fucking wreck? Serves him right,” you slam the door shut and walk past her to the kitchen to get a bottle of water, your mouth going dry.

It’s the first time that Nat is finally taking in your figure, taking in the state of you as you move to the kitchen and tug the fridge door open. You’re less round than she remembers seeing you at the Halloween party weeks prior. You’ve got dark circles beneath your bottom lash lip and your stomach isn’t poking out as much as it used to. It worries her. “Y/N,” she tries again, her tone much softer this time as she approaches you. “What happened?”

You chug down the entire water bottle, letting the flush wash away any of the burning hunger in your stomach. Avoiding her gaze, you lean against the counter for support and take slow and steady breaths. Underneath all the feminine rage and anger, there’s insecurity ripping through your veins and cursing every inch of your body. You wish it into submission of a quiet hum as you glance up at her, wet lashes distracting her from the sniffle you make.

“What do you think?” Your sour tone isn’t directly for her; Nat knows that now as she steps closer.

Her arms are slowly approaching you as she tries to gently collect you into her embrace as your knees wobble, so shaky that you crumble to the ground as your mouth quivers and the dam breaks. She’s cooing as your ass meets the tile of the kitchen, your loud wails filling the quaint kitchen as she tries to hold you tight enough that the pieces of your soul don’t shatter.

“He left Nat,” you whimper, “He left me after we slept together for the first time. It took me so long to let someone in and,” you inhale the wet snot dripping from your nose. “I feel so embarrassed and so ashamed.” Your voice came out in slow, aching weeps as you looked down at your thighs.

All the body positivity, all the confidence in who you were faltering at the loss of a man who you weren’t even in a real relationship with. You were angry at yourself for even letting the thoughts to climb into your mind and rot your empowerment. “The man saw my body and then left…it really can shatter a person’s self-esteem if they aren’t careful,” you admitted and suddenly, Nat sees red. Nat sees this beautiful and vibrant person withering away in her arms and she can’t handle that. She won’t allow it when she’s grown so close with you.

So, she calls for re-enforcements, hatching a plan for the next evening to re-introduce you to bar life and get your mojo back. At 6:30 PM promptly the next day, she shows up as promised with Gemini and Aries in tow. Bags are tossed over their shoulders, and they’ve got bottles of Patron in hand as they grin lovingly. “Let’s ruin the fucker’s birthday,” Aries smirks as she places her bag down on the couch.

            Hours later, Nat leads the way as you approach the porch of the Hard Deck and friendly, familiar faces greet you in excitement. “God damn Sunshine,” a kind firefighter from town hollers, eyeing your short black top and daisy dukes. Your toes are freshly painted, and legs moisturized, you’d felt like a real person for the first time since that night on Halloween. And now, three weeks later – you had just begun to smile.

            “Thank you so much Benson,” you tuck a loose curl behind your ear and keep moving, the momentum bringing you through the door and into the Hard Deck. It’s in full swing when you glance around, slightly hoping that you don’t even notice him for the night. There’s a knot, continuing to twist and wind itself up and you find it a bit hard to breath just as you get to the bar top.

            “There’s my girl,” Penny calls out, rushing around the opening to wrap you in the tightest hug she can muster up.

            “Hi Pen,” you mumble back, enjoying the warmth of her embrace and pulling back to smile genuinely at her.

            “Nat told me the gist of everything,” she pursed her lips with a nod to your friend, a mischievous glaze to her wise eyes. “You give me the look and I will ruin that man’s whole life, starting with his wallet.”

            “That won’t be necessary Pen,” you squeeze her arms and pull back, “But I’ll take a tequila sunrise instead.” She nods with a wink, returning behind the bar to mix up the cocktails for you. You slide into one of the stools beside Aries when you hear it. The hoot of a Texan man gone wild. Him. You take a heavy breath, letting your gaze wander to his usual spot. Scratch that…your usual spot. And you wished you hadn’t because there he was with the men of the squadron, arm draped lazily over some skinny brunette’s shoulders as he pressed up against her ear.

            “He looks real torn up Nat,” you seethe, turning back to your friend and pushing off your stool when she pushes you down.

            “He only found the girl after he found out we were coming tonight,” Nat promises, taking a sip of her beer. “It’s sickening but I’ve got something to keep your mind off him,” she nods in the direction of the booth again. The weight of your purse burns against your hip when you square your shoulders and ready yourself to vomit when you turn back to the table. But your view is blocked by the frame of another man walking toward you, bright pearly whites gleaming as he approaches with an innocent smile.

            “Just play along and watch the magic of a fury,” Nat’s voice trails off as you sit up a bit straighter and tilt your head.

            “Hey Fanboy,” you greet the man a bit louder than your typical tone and he picks up the pace until he’s in front of you. He doesn’t stop his momentum though, not in the slightest as he leans forward and collects your cheeks in his hands to tug your mouth to his. His lips are silky smooth against yours, fresh minty breath refreshing as you breath him in. You cup the back of his head, nails scrapping against his scalp as he situates himself between your thighs.

            Slowly, ever so slowly, he’s leaning back as he rests his hands on either side of you, caging you in. You’re left trying to catch your breath as you smile widely, enjoying the sensation of his mouth over the expanse of your neck. This is a show, and you are a reoccurring main character. You’ve played this game before and now more than ever, you need believability. So, you wrap your hands around his slender waist and giggle slightly as his teeth drag along the column of flesh. “Fanboy, stop mauling my niece,” your aunt quips playfully, in on the gag as you slot your hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

            “Sorry Penny,” he pulls back, gazing at you lovingly. “She’s just irresistible.”

            “Well, take your asses away from my counter. You’ll scare off customers,” Penny calls, her voice carrying easily over to the table in the back where there is a booth tucked away from the patrons. Your booth. Your booth that is now occupied.

            “Want to take this party out to the bonfire?” Fanboy’s voice is low in your ear, causing you to shiver slightly and nod, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Eat your heart out Jake Seresin.

            “Are you fuckin’ serious?” Speak of the devil. You peer around Fanboy’s shoulder to see the blond seething, fists balled up at his sides. His jaw is clenched so tight you though the muscle there would snap from any further tension.

            “Can we help you?” you ask slowly, blinking at the man you had hopelessly fallen in love with. The man who slowly gained your trust and then ripped everything you knew out from under you. Fuck him.

            “You serious Sunshine?”

            “Don’t call me that,” you snap, eerily sharp. Your tone forces him back, hitting him square in the chest and a small flash of hurt creeps through his green eyes. Fuck him. “You don’t get to call me that…are you fucking serious?”

            Anger ripples over Jake again and suddenly, Nat’s shoulder to shoulder beside you while Fanboy still hovers to your front. You feel their strength building inside of you as you stare at Jake’s strong and broad chest. “It’s my birthday.”

            “And?”

            Jake scoffs at you, his hands sliding over his sharp hipbones. His fingers flex and it takes every ounce of will power to not think about how they felt against your cunt. “And you are making out with Fanboy right in front of my face. On my birthday,” his hand goes up in emphasis as if it isn’t perfectly clear what the two of you had been doing.

            “You’ve got some nerve.”

            “Me?” he sounds shocked.

You scoff, “Yes, fucking you Bagman.” You’re shaking now. How dare he. How dare he show up to your side of the bar months ago and be charming. How dare he flirt hard enough and still be so sweet and unassuming that you let him take you on a terrible date and then save you from your horrible ex. How dare he take you to your favorite bookstore, let you share all your favorite tropes and stories with him while he just hummed along and happily held your selections until you reached the counter. How dare he told you about his home life, about his sisters. About his mom, about his tough relationship with his father and the vulnerability they’d earned from each other over the years. About his fears of flying in a tin can in the sky at trillions of miles an hour. How dare he let you down when you tried so hard not to let him in.

You slide of your stool, suddenly exhausted. Suddenly deflated and with no burning fire in you to fight back. You felt small again and you hated feeling small, especially here in public. You were tired of hiding, tired of pretending.

Maybe that was what got you here in the first place. And he sees it and he’s got this burning in his chest that feels like acid reflux but worse. He watches as you slowly dig through your purse, saddling up until you were right in front of him. You tug your hand free of the contents within the bag to reveal a small box, black leather smooth to the touch.

“I hate that I did this but I know how much you said you would only get a new one if it was the exact one,” your words are so gentle, he’s not sure you said anything really…not sure if he imagined it. You couldn’t be this gentle with him, not after what Jake had done. “I hate that you make me feel this way…and I hate that I still don’t hate you,” you confess, pushing the box into his hands with a mumbled Happy Birthday.

And then he no longer feels your warmth in his space, feeling vulnerable and insecure all over again. But this time, he’s in front of an entire bar of people who definitely prefer you to him and he’s feeling self-conscious, so he rushes to the bathroom, out of the view of patrons. His hands fiddle with the box, unsure if he should even open it. That burning in his chest is getting worse and he’s pretty sure it would be better if he just cut out his throat to save himself.

But curiosity is a killer and Jake Seresin is weak, so he pries the box open only to immediately let out a whimper at the contents inside. Nestled between the velvet material is a 1942 Hamilton WWII wristwatch, just like his grandfather’s that he lost on his last tour. The very watch he cried about the first time the two of you drank a bottle of red wine on his porch, wrapped up on the swing under a blanket. Fuck.

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[happyk44]

i started writing this in my drafts weeks ago but didn't continue much farther than the first sentence - probably put it down to do something else and then passed out lmao. anyway after scrolling past last night wanted to continue it but can't be effed to scroll through my drafts rn (i save everything to my drafts to tag and queue later and my drafts ar like over 250+ rn)

anyway percy who becomes obsessed with finding this grim reaper he saw the night his mom killed his step-dad. he was an abusive asshole and percy helped his mom stage the scene to look like someone gabe owed money to came knocking. they don't have much in terms of expensive shit - just the TV and playstation. it's an old old model that one of percy's classmates was going to throw out as he wasn't into the games he had with it anymore and was getting the latest version for christmas.

it was nice that he gave it to percy with only a fraction of the cost in hand and a promise to give him the rest over time. percy paid him off every monday. it took sally weeks to pay it off, percy chipping in by donating cans and glass bottles he found lying around. the games were old and a little childish, but it was the only entertainment percy had aside from sally's old and crappy laptop that gabe hogged with online poker games.

so it sucked to watch sally dump it into an empty trash bag. it's small, she'd said. the tv would be too big to carry out without causing suspicion, even in mind-your-business new york city, but the playstation, her shitty laptop, and gabe's cell and wallet were things that could be dumped into a bag with no one giving a second look. percy crawls out the fire-escape grateful their shitty apartment building doesn't have cameras. he has to use a couple boxes to really rise himself enough to stuff the bag under the other bags. sally walks out the front door and they go have a late dinner at a nearby cafe.

then go home an hour later and scream in surprise at gabe's dead body in the bedroom, still warm from the heater in the corner boiling up the room that sally promptly unplugs.

percy doesn't think much about WHY his mom was so specific about how to clean his blood off the kitchen floor, about how to stage the scene, about moving gabe's body into the bedroom, about pulling him like he had been then letting him fall flat. heating up the room to keep him warm and fresh, while keeping the window cracked open so the heat doesn't stay by the time the police arrive.

he writes it away as her being a reader, a writer. maybe murder mysteries had been on her mind lately. maybe she watched too many cop shows. maybe she'd thought about this so many times she perfected it. his mom was not a repeat killer. gabe was her first time. her only time. and it was fine.

he sucked.

it's sitting in the chair, feigning distress but not too much, talking to a cop about the scene while he stares off into the air when he sees him. the boy is young, dark-haired and pale-skinned. he's startled by the presence, cutting off in his explanation about how people often came banging on the door for money gabe owed them. how he kept his poker winnings in the now open and empty safe in the bedroom. he wants to draw attention to the boy, but no one else seems to notice him.

he watches idly as gabe is carried out the front door in a body bag. then disappears towards the bedroom.

percy stands and mutters something about wanting to see his mom. the cop guides him to where she's sat on the bed crying thick tears. the boy is there. no one else cares that he's there. the boy reaches out and gabe's body shimmers into view. he's a visage of how he'd looked right before he died - the wide-eyed shock, tensing of his shoulders, mouth open wide because he'd been shouting at percy, threatening him.

he didn't realize how much like his mom he was until gabe fell flat with a knife sticking out of his throat. his mom standing behind him breathing hard. she'd squatted beside his head, pulled out the knife. stared at it. then stabbed stabbed stabbed until gabe's chokes turned to wispy gasps and his wispy gasps disappeared.

"four stab marks," his mom had said. "hopefully that won't look like overkill. but make sure to mention how many times people came screaming at the door just in case."

gabe's white glowing form dissipates into a ball in the boy's hands. he pulls out a baggie from his shoulder bag, then dumps gabe into it with a grimace.

he does suck, percy thinks. be annoyed.

the boy steps away. his eyes catch percy's. percy's arm tightens around his mom's shoulders as he looks into the endless void that is the other boy's eyes. flashes of his own death catch his mind. lying flat on the ground, weakly asking for help, and a dark-skinned man with black angel wings standing above him whispering, i'm sorry, but it's time to go.

then the boy looks away and disappears into a shadow.

grover believes him when he tells him about it. that's the thing percy loves about grover. the mystical and paranormal are easily believed. grover's parents are hippie-like green witches. percy doesn't really get it but has surmised from grover and visiting their house it means they really, really like plants.

"grim reaper," grover calls him. "or a psychopomp. collectors of the dead."

he lists a bunch of names from various cultures until percy cuts him off. "are any young boys?"

grover shrugs. "i mean life is bigger than what the stories tell. there's more people, more humanity. atheists even. where do they go? who collects them? there's definitely more gods and spirits than we think these days. it's not like they all stopped fucking just because the stories ended. there are definitely more gods than we think."

percy doesn't know what to do with that. grover asks him a lot of questions about the boy. but it's hard to answer them. they can't find a culture he could belong to, a way to summon someone without a name. the kid was young, dressed normal in black clothes with a normal black messenger bag. there were no signs of culture, religion, belonging.

he could've blended into a primary school playground easily.

"maybe you need to kill someone," annabeth suggests. the conversation arises a year or so after they first met and befriended her - a new addition halfway through the school year, a few months after gabe's unfortunate death. following a CPS check, her biological mother decided to take charge of her. annabeth spent a lot of time grumbling about her family in california while also missing california ("it's familiar, new york is not, i don't miss my step-mom, i miss the comfort of routine") and bitching about her bio mom's obsession with her grades and extracurriculars.

it takes some campaigning but the three of them manage to create an afterschool club in the new school year for her to find some time to chill and relax and get school work done. it took a lot longer to convince her mom to let her join their "magics and mystics club" - some nonsense about how it'll make her stand-out in college applications.

percy highly doubts any college is looking too closely at middle school extracurriculars, but what does he know? he's either lasting until graduation with grover and annabeth, or getting his GED and dropping out to immediately book it to the first basic entry-level job he can find. school already sucks ass, but his barely medicated ADHD and severely dyslexic ass already twaddles the line of a C average. What's the use of hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt that's only growing frantically from interest and a degree he barely achieved with the lowest grades required to shake the hand of someone he's never interacted with?

annabeth spends most of her time in the club doing her homework, while percy gets reeducated on grover's witchy stuff. their club advisor is the drama teacher who only checked in at the beginning of that first meeting then dipped for the drama club. grover's putting together a presentation on the history of mysticism while percy glues pictures to poster board. annabeth will present their stuff. the three of them doubt anyone will care if they did anything productive with their club, but annabeth's mom will so they do their best to make it fancy as fuck.

she already doesn't like either of them.

in the spare times that annabeth isn't doing homework or studying for another class, they talk about the spiritual and paranormal, magic and whatnot. so percy mentions his experience with the reaper.

and annabeth's first suggestion is murder. it's hilarious. grover knows the truth but annabeth only knows the lie. percy makes a note of it in his head. maybe he'll hint around the truth. they're close, but there's still time needed between the two of them. the worst she's told him is about the spiders in her bedroom. but nothing about what kickstarted a CPS investigation and her subsequent arrival into his life.

"maybe he's a murder reaper," she says. she's intellectual, doesn't believe in the mystic magic stuff but tolerates it for grover. "so he only comes around when there's been a murder."

"i don't think reapers are split up by types of death," grover argues. "and even if they were, why would a little kid be sent to deal with murders?"

annabeth crosses her arms. "maybe he's not a kid. maybe he just chooses to look like that."

they get into a weird half-argument, half-civil discussion. to her credit, annabeth doesn't bring science into it. they both descend to the computers and the books grover brought in from his house to search through to prove whatever point they've landed on.

percy is too busy cutting out paper to glue to poster board. and thinking about the murder aspect. he doubts that murder matters. he's pretty sure grover's right, but he likes keeping his balls so he doesn't say. annabeth is probably right too. magical beings are always capable of changing form. maybe little kid is just easy. who would be afraid of going somewhere with a little kid. or a dog.

but death is needed to see the reaper again. percy doesn't live with anyone dying. and he's too young to volunteer at the hospital. besides death is random isn't it? everyone was convinced that their classmate who got diagnosed with stage four cancer was going to die but she returned a year and a half later missing a leg but recovering. and the gym teacher who ran marathons and was known for his obsessively healthy eating habits died of a heart attack over the summer.

and even if he hovered around people on the verge of death, it didn't mean he was going to be there when they died.

but murder? definitely. he'd be right there because it would be his fault.

at that, he dashes the thought away. murder is wrong. he can't kill people just to see a reaper he saw but never spoke to. it's not like he has any questions about his death. he'll die when he dies. dying isn't scary to him. what's scary is dying before his mom and leaving her childless and mourning. but death itself? he's unafraid.

but inside burns a deep need to see the reaper again. not even to talk to him. just to lay his eyes on that night sky hair and porcelain skin. then he'd be satisfied and the need would go away.

maybe.

probably.

hopefully.

it's on his sixteenth birthday that he sees another reaper. it's not the boy he's looking for. he's disappointed. he shouldn't be. he should be more concerned with the dead man lying in front of him.

the letter opener is sticking out just below luke's left armpit. it hadn't killed him. it was too delicate for that, and the spot wasn't vital enough. but it had shocked him enough for annabeth to shove him away in disgust. he fell back, tripping over annabeth's shoes, and smashed into the glass coffee table.

"shit," annabeth breathes. she doesn't notice the reaper - a slender arabic man appear from the darkness and pull luke's soul of his chest with thin hands. he pushes his hands together and the soul vanishes. then he turns into a dog, or... something like a dog, and disappears back into the shadows.

it's take a few minutes to figure out how to stage the scene. they get rid of the letter opener and shove a piece of broken glass into the spot. this time he doesn't escape through the window. just walks out of the room, calm and detached, and sits in his mom's car. when the police arrive, annabeth, crying thick tears, tells them that he had fallen over while she was getting her things ready after percy came to pick her up.

it's not technically a lie. the police wish him a happy birthday when he says he came by to pick annabeth up from her study session because they were going to do laser tag for his birthday that afternoon. when they don't arrest him in the weeks that follow, he relaxes. and considers his options. he googles arab dogs which is an odd search term but brings up jackals and anubis. cool, he thinks. he tells them both about it afterwards. despite the death, grover is excited. annabeth is less impressed.

"i would've noticed, i was there too," she huffs.

"maybe they don't like you because you're a nonbeliever," grover fires back.

is percy a believer? he's not sure. he knows that what he sees is real. if he was suffering from delusions or hallucinations, surely he'd be seeing them a lot more than twice over the course of four years.

"what if i asked them?" he suggests. "to make themselves visible to you?"

"planning on being around another newly dead guy soon?" annabeth asks with a laugh. grover snorts. but percy remains silent and serious so their amusement shifts to concern

grover leans in close. "percy-"

"just bad people," he cuts in with a solemn whisper.

"you can't be judge, jury and executioner," annabeth hisses. "what you think is bad is not always universal? think about jim crow laws or slavery-"

"annabeth," he cuts in before she can go on an historical tangent. "i was hoping you'd help actually."

it doesn't take long for her to click together what he wants out of her. she glares at him. "percy," she snarls through clenched teeth. "i'm not swishing my ass to entice seedy men for you to murder so you can maybe have a hallucination to process death."

"okay, okay." conceding, he raises his hands. "it was dumb, i'm sorry. i just... really wanna see this kid again. sorry."

annabeth watches him carefully the rest of the day. grover doesn't. he knows what percy is, even if he doesn't agree. so it's not too surprising to start seeing grover scrolling through the newspaper on his phone. he startles every time percy spooks him when he's reading. then laughs it off, swats at percy, and keeps reading. it's the obituaries that percy sees the most, but sometimes articles about a death.

whatever he's looking for, some kind of proof it's percy, he must not find because he doesn't say anything. but it's grover, percy's soulmate. so he's sure the slow side-eye that he gets some mornings are a knowing side-eye.

percy doesn't look at the newspapers. if he's gonna get caught, he'd rather be surprised about it other than worrying and getting sloppy.

it's hard to find truly shitty people from first glance. he doesn't have the patience to observe. just slight insomnia that keeps him up until one in the morning prowling the streets. he hovers around in his old neighborhood, where the cameras are for show and shitty people live. it's still difficult. he doesn't want to go around hurting innocent people. less so because he cares, but more because it would disappoint grover and annabeth and his mom. he can't disappoint them.

he does see reapers, including the one who will one day take him, but never the boy. percy tries to envision him older, but even then none of them match. he does try to speak to them, but they ignore him. he wonders if it's some kind of weird curse. he can see them but they can't. sometimes the ignorance seems intentional, but he can't really tell so other than a few short sentences that always go ignored, he gives up and heads home.

some days he wakes up and is certain the police will come for him. but they never do and so he gives it a few days or a couple weeks and head back out again. they're opportunity kills. random and haphazard. he keeps mittens on, which looks normal in the fall and winter, but sketchy over the summer. to counteract his want to see that reaper, he signs up to be a counselor for a summer camp. grover joins him. annabeth is dragged off to university summer classes by her mom. her emails are miserable. percy wonders aloud to grover if annabeth would be happier if her mom was dead. grover eyes him flatly and says he doubts it.

percy gets assigned to the little kids who tell him all kinds of family secrets. some are funny. some are not.

it's not that hard to get into the camp's directory and write down in poor handwriting and with tons of struggle the names and addresses of these secrets. it's not a lot, which is great. but it's more than it should be and come summer's end, he has his start for the fall.

it's clear grover knows what percy's planning. he was there after all when a little secret got whispered too loudly. but all he says is, "sometimes kids get things wrong." the newspaper on his phone comes back into play after summer ends. but he still says nothing, even when glances at percy from the corner of his eyes.

it's two years of scattered kills before he sees him again. the kid is older now. he looks about fourteen, maybe fifteen. but percy knows it's him. he's the only one who makes eye contact. this time percy doesn't see his death. but he sees the endless void.

purgatory, he thinks, before he blurts out, "i've been looking for you." the teen tilts his head and smiles, small, gentle. the sight of it slams hard into percy's ribcage and sinks messy into his heart. "what's your name?"

"what's yours?" the teen fires back, turning away from percy and collecting the pulsing orb into a little baggie like before. his voice is enchanting, smooth and crystalline. there's an edge of an italian accent in it.

"percy," he says without hesitation. "jackon. percy jackson." he shakes his head. "perseus, actually, but everyone calls me percy."

the teen laughs gently. the sound is haunting. somewhere in percy's subconscious he knows the sound should scare him. but instead he just craves it more. "well, perseus jackson, my name is nico."

nico, percy thinks. in his head, the name is surrounded by hearts like a schoolgirl writing out the name of their crush in a movie. "that's really pretty," he says aloud. mentally he slaps himself. that's really pretty? that's stupid.

but nico just laughs again. "thank you." he steps over the dead body and touches percy's face. "perseus was a quite the soul when he was collected." his fingertip ghosts down percy's cheek, leaving light phantom tingles behind. "will you be?"

then he dissipates into shadows, leaving percy with a heavy craving for his ghostly touch and hauntingly enchanted voice.

[id0what1want]

Wisteria Lake

I have thoughts. So, I am finally throwing my whole hat into the Dipplinshipping ring.

(This occurs during the Teal Mask)

Kieran awoke to a knocking on his window. He groggily sat up, rubbing his eyes as he stifled a yawn. He blearily caught sight of Cereza's face through the glass. The slight shock managed to drag him out of sleep as he drew closer to the window, opening it. "What are you doin', it's like- I dunno, late. Plus-" Kieran started, picking at his bangs a bit to get them to lay right. "I know I know, just-" Cereza was out of breath and it looked like stars sparkled deep in the burgundy pools of her irises, her eyes wide and practically rippling with excitement. It seemed wherever she was, she ran to get Kieran as fast as she could. She grasped onto his windowpane but didn't enter save for her face leaning close to his. "You've gotta see this." "What is it?" A touch of pink dusted Kieran's face as Cereza's excitement was infectious and spurred on his curiosity, making him completely forget the hour. Cereza only grinned, one corner of her lip quirking up more than the other to make her smile endearingly lopsided. "It's a surprise. I'll meet you out front, get shoes on." And with that she hopped down from his window, disappearing into the night. Kieran took a second to process the situation before rushing to get socks and shoes on, grabbing his bag and trying his best to keep the rustling to a minimum. His steps were nimble as they dodged the floorboards he knew were loud. He muffled the sound of the sliding door as much as he could as not to alert anyone.

Cereza was waiting out front as promised. She held out an arm and her Corvisquire, Charon, descended seemingly from the night itself to perch on her arm. "Are they still there?" She asked the ruby eyed corvid. It let out a chirp and a nod, earning a smile and a scratching on the neck from Cereza. Kieran stepped forward and Cereza turned to him. It might have just been a trick of the low light, but Kieran swore her eyes must have brightened. Charon left Cereza's arm as she rushed to meet Kieran. "Kieran! I found something in the Wistful Fields, you HAVE to come see!" She took hold of his wrist, tugging him in the direction. "How are you even up at this hour?" His eyes widened slightly as her hand gripped his wrist. They were surprisingly weathered for a girl their age, likely from adventures like the one Kieran was being dragged into currently. Not that he minded. "Me and sleep have a strained relationship, you could say. It's not my fault that the world wakes up at night." Cereza shrugs as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Kieran's brows raise. "'The world wakes up at night'?" He echoes. Cereza turns, walking backwards so she can face him and talk at the same time. She cups her hands behind her ears. "Mhm, hear all the Pokemon? Lots of species are strictly nocturnal or just more active at night. I guess I've always been more of a night owl myself, nighttime is just... better." Cereza smiled. Kieran considered her words. "Wowzers... I've always been kinda curious about the Pokemon I can hear at night but..." Kieran's words trailed off as he listened closer. "It's a lot easier to hear 'em now that the Yanma have stopped flyin' around." Cereza guided him through the apple fields, cutting through them and trailing off the path. "C'mon, this way is faster!" She started to run without warning, startling Kieran. "Come on Kiki, keep up!" Cereza's laugh joined the chords of the night, mixing with the various Pokemon cries as Kieran rushed to catch her, a smile etched onto his own face. "I wouldn't have to keep up if you slowed down!" He called after her as she disappeared into the trees. He could still hear her laugh slipping through the branches, giving away her location. "I bet you can't catch me!" She challenged, igniting a fire of competition in Kieran's chest. The chase had begun, and Cereza burst from the thicket of trees first, now faced by hills of path, grass, and small cliffs of gravel. Kieran was hot on her heels. Cereza heard him exit the trees behind her and took the chance to slide down the steep incline, her shoes scraping against rock as she expertly used a hand to steady her descent. Kieran screeched to a halt at the edge of the incline, hesitant. Cereza turned around to check on him after realizing he hadn't followed her yet. Before she could open her mouth, Kieran slid down the hill in pursuit of her, albeit with less practiced experience than Cereza.

When he approached the bottom, his balance got a little squirreling and his landing was more of a stumble than stable. Cereza ran towards him in an attempt to catch him but was surprised to find Kieran pushing ahead of her and stealing the lead while she was distracted. She scoffed, amusement thick in her tone. "You jerk! You don't even know where we're headed!" She called after him, running across the grass as fast as her legs could carry her. The two felt the wind across their faces, a midnight breeze as they passed various Pokemon minding their own business, alarmed by the sudden disturbance of two kid trainers sprinting through the tall grass. Cereza vaulted over stumps, stones, and hills, though she wasn't raised in Kitakami, she adapted to the land well. But Kieran knew these fields, he had a hometown advantage, he knew every rough patch to guide her through, every pitfall to dodge to trip her up. The thrill of the chase caused an adrenaline rush almost like a Pokemon battle. A smile of elation tugged at Kieran's lips as he felt like he was almost flying through the fields. He didn't expect another stab of adrenaline to his heart however when a Hoothoot took flight right in front of Kieran's path of choice, bringing him to a startled, screeching stop. Cereza unfortunately didn't register Kieran stopping in time and couldn't slow her momentum down enough to avoid crashing into him. She reflexively threw her arms around his waist, holding on tight as they both collapsed into the grass. Her arms loosened as he wriggled from her grip, turning into a slight playful tussling match as the 'chase' continued. Cereza pounced with the likeness to a Skitty, Kieran returning the same mannerisms as the rolled in the grass, fits of giggles and yelps escaping the two. Cereza managed to pin him down for a moment, panting. "Caught you-!" She yelped as Kieran lunged forward, knocking her off him and him onto her, a triumphant smile on his face. His face was flushed from all the running. "No... I caught you." He panted. Cereza wriggled out of his grip as they both took a breather. Charon, with perfect timing, flew down and perched on Cereza's head. He voiced his annoyance with an irritated squawk.

"We're coming, you impatient bird!" She teasingly shooed him off of her head, returning him to his ball. At the sound of Charon's squawk, something rustled in Cereza's bag. Alerted to the movement, she started to unzip it. Before she even finished unzipping the bag, a little lizard-like Pokemon wriggled free from her bag from the smallest possible crevice Cereza had opened. A Dreepy chirped with delight at being free, nuzzling into Cereza's hair as a greeting. Cereza laughed at its antics. "Hello, Deadeye." Cereza greeted. Kieran watched the little Pokemon curiously, he hadn't met this one yet. Deadeye noticed Kieran and approached, getting close to his face and sniffing him as if judging his character. Kieran leaned away reflexively at first before staying still and letting Deadeye assess him. Deadeye let out a trill of approval before gently bonking his head against Kieran's and returning to Cereza's side. "This is Deadeye, I caught him back in Paldea." She introduced. Kieran looked at Cereza as she ran her fingers down Deadeye's spine. She makes a similar clicking trill, almost like a cooing noise as Deadeye does a satisfied full body shimmy. "He's a Dreepy, right? We don't have any of 'em in Kitakami, I've never met one before." Kieran thinks out loud. Cereza gets up and stretches. She helps Kieran up, the grass rustling around them. Though the two trainers halted their chase, it seemed that the wind was still in pursuit of its own target. The breeze blew around them, tousling their hair. "Well, this surprise is partially for him too. Come on, I can see Wisteria Lake from here."

As they approached the lake, Cereza grabbed onto Kieran's hand. Before he could register what was happening, Cereza tugged him down into a crouch with her. He opened his mouth to speak but Cereza placed her free hand over it to muffle him. She made sure the wisteria trees concealed their position next to the lake. "Look." She whispered, pointing to the section of the lake bathed in moonlight. There, a pod of Dragonair and Dratini swam in the water, no doubt roosting. Their scales glistened, bathed by the rays of the moon and sparkling with the freshwater of the lake. Their movements were graceful and mesmerizing, unlike anything the two had ever seen in real life. It was captivating. Kieran's eyes widened and Cereza dropped her hand from his mouth. His eyes practically sparkled as his jaw dropped, his mouth forming an ovoid 'o'. He could see why Cereza was so excited. Cereza pulled herself up into the branches of the wisteria tree next to them, helping Kieran up into the spot next to her. This wisteria tree was old and sturdy, barely creaking under their combined weight. "I've never... I thought... Dratini don't live in this lake." Kieran managed to finally find the words to reply quietly. He hoisted himself up to be fully next to Cereza. She watched the dragons intently, unable to tear her eyes away. "They're migrating and roosting in this lake before the next rain, which is due tomorrow." Cereza explained in a hushed tone. "Because Dragonair control the weather." Kieran finished her thought for her. "Bingo." Cereza grinned. She gazed at the creatures, taking in every minute flick of their tails, every sound to escape their voice boxes. "Aren't they beautiful?" Kieran turned to look at Cereza. He had never heard her voice sound like that, enchanted by awe. Enamored, even. Her expression was captivated by a similar awe, her burgundy eyes focused on the dragons with a glimmer of wonder. While Cereza took in the sight of the Dratini and Dragonair, Kieran similarly gazed at her. The wisteria blooms framed her, bathing her in an almost lavender glow from the moonlight filtering through the petals. The light illuminated the upturned corners of her lips, highlighting every feature of her face. "Yeah. They are." He smiled; his eyes locked on her in the same way she couldn't tear her eyes away from the Dragonair. The moment was interrupted by Deadeye emerging from under Cereza's bag once again, his ghostlike tail wagging as he watched the Dratini play in the water. He nipped Cereza's cheek playfully to get her attention. She winced and held her cheek, narrowing her eyes at Deadeye with a lighthearted smile. "Little squirt." She teased. Deadeye made the Dreepy equivalent of a giggle before starting to float towards the Dratini. Cereza tugged on his tail gently, concern flitting in her chest for a moment. "Slow, don't spook them." She advised gently. She tentatively let go of his tail. She held her breath as she watched Deadeye approach the nearest Dratini. Her grip on the branches tightened. Kieran noticed Cereza tense and shakily put a hand over hers. She meets his eyes, and they share a look. Cereza turns her attention back to Deadeye, exhaling slowly.

Deadeye chirps at the Dratini, catching its attention. The Dratini tilts its head and Deadeye tilts his in turn. They circle one another, assessing each other carefully. The Dratini sniffs Deadeye and Deadeye wiggles as if it tickles him, trilling in amusement. The Dratini seems satisfied, diving into the water. Deadeye tilts his head in confusion. The Dratini surfaces with similar confusion, making a noise that seems like the equivalent to 'are you coming?'. Deadeye realizes what it meant and makes a happy cry, diving into the water after the Dratini and letting it give way to underwater chase. Cereza sighs in relief, chuckling at Deadeye's mannerisms. Kieran laughs with her. The Dratini gets caught by Deadeye and Deadeye does a little victory lap. The Dratini chitters and gestures for Deadeye to come meet the Dragonair presumably watching over the flock. Deadeye approaches the Dragonair and catches its attention, but Deadeye gets an idea and rushes off before they can properly meet each other. Deadeye darts over to Cereza who picks up on this and descends from the tree, her feet landing on the grass with a thump. She makes sure to crouch as a sign of respect and submission in case the Dragonair is watching. "What are you doing?" Kieran hisses, alarm filling his senses as he looks between the group of (undoubtedly powerful) dragon pokemon and his friend that just entered its line of sight. "Just watch." She replies quietly. Deadeye bites her sleeve and tries to tug her along but struggles because of his small size. Cereza stands a little taller, gazing up at the Dragonair that was now swimming over. The Dragonair lowers itself to Cereza's level, narrowing its eyes at her. The Dratini that were playing moments ago have gathered behind the Dragonair, curious about the newcomer. A sound forms in the back of its throat, sounding melodious like birdsong yet clicks like the call of a Lapras. Deadeye makes a similar clicking trill in response, shimmying with its little body. He smiled as if introducing Cereza. The Dragonair stared down Cereza, as if it dared for her to break eye contact. Kieran's worry compounded and he dropped down from the tree soundlessly, frozen as he witnessed Cereza interact with the dragon. Cereza stood her ground, approaching closer to the Dragonair and leaning down more. She made a similar noise to the trill she soothed Deadeye with, again like a mix between the purr of a Purrloin and the coo of a Pidove making something that sounded like the reptilian clicks of the dragon types she was familiar with. She held out a flat hand with her palm facing up, so the Dragonair knew it was okay to approach and assess her. She kept herself loose and relaxed as not to spook it. Cereza remained still as the Dragonair sniffed her hand, only turning her hand over so the creature could smell both sides thoroughly. The Dragonair snorted and turned away, diving in the water without haste or concern.

The Dratini came closer and took their turn to sniff and assess her, though the little ones were much more invasive than their elder. Little mouths nipped at skin and clothing, eliciting giggles from Cereza. She turns back to Kieran, eyes brightened and rushes over to him. A few Dratini trail behind her as she takes his hands, a wide grin on her face. "Come on, come meet them!" Kieran's eyes widened. "Woah, wait-" He started as Cereza dragged him toward the edge of the water where Deadeye and the rest of the Dratini were playing, even some of the Dragonair were humoring the little ones. She let go of his hand and took off her socks and shoes, setting them safely by the water before stepping in. She smiled, turning to Kieran. "It's not cold!" She took something out of her pocket, they were what looked to be Leppa berries she had picked with Kieran the day before in the orchard. She knelt into the water, holding her cupped hands out for the Dratini to eat from. The Dratini were delighted and flocked to Cereza, making her laugh even more with delight. Kieran took his shoes off, rushing after her without really thinking. He tapped on her shoulder to get her attention. "Uh, Cereza?" Before she could turn around and address his question, a curious Dratini noticed Kieran and got close to his face, looking him over. "Oh! Hello!" His eyebrows rose as the Dratini chirped at him, the other Dratini starting to become curious about him as well. Cereza took notice and stood up to be next to him. She took his hands and handed him a few Leppa berries to feed them. "What just happened between you an' that Dragonair?" Kieran asked while Cereza filled his hands with berries. "That Dragonair is the head of the pack, it was just checking to make sure I was safe to interact with." Cereza hummed. She stepped back so the Dratini had room to approach him. The curious little serpents were delighted to find berries in his hands too and pecked and nibbled at the berries. Kieran giggled, the giggles bubbling up into laughter. "Haha, stop! That tickles!" A few Dratini nipped at his clothes like they did to Cereza and Cereza laughed with Kieran as they feed the dragonlings.

Cereza tossed a berry to Deadeye and he caught it without trouble, swallowing it whole. The Dratini witnessed this and immediately darted over to Cereza, wanting in on the game. "Woah, woah, one at a time!" She laughed. She faked throwing a berry to the far side of the lake and all the Dratini fell for it, diving under the water to reach the other side faster. Kieran and Cereza chuckled as they watched Deadeye catch up to his new friends, racing after them and starting another, larger game of chase. One of the younger Dragonair approached Kieran and Cereza and Kieran stiffened at the presence of the serpent. Cereza made the dragon call she did before as a greeting, waving with a smile. "Hello, feeling left out on the berry train?" Cereza giggled as the Dragonair sniffed all of her clothes in search of the berries, nudging at her pocket in pursuit of them. The Dragonair sung a short, high note as if in affirmation. Cereza made her dragon call back, adding a whistle arpeggio at the end (one that sounds like she learned it from Charon). Kieran actually approached this time, walking through the water to stand close to Cereza, amazed as she holds up the berry for the Dragonair to eat from her hands. The Dragonair gently picked up the berry with its jaws, taking care not to make contact with Cereza. The Dragonair sung another note of thanks and Cereza cooed a note of her own back.

"How do you do that?" Kieran looked at Cereza in amazement. Cereza shrugged. "Lots of trial and error with Deadeye. I can try and teach you if you want. Can you roll your Rs and whistle?" Cereza started. Kieran nodded. "It's just a combo of those two, like a happy medium between them." Cereza demonstrated how to do it and Kieran listened and watched intently. After a moment, he nods. "I think I've got it." Kieran took a deep breath and gave it his best shot... and the sound that came out is somewhat strangled and definitely incorrect. Cereza snorted and there's a moment of suspense before the two burst into fits of laughter. It's the kind of laughter that they try to stifle but starts up again the moment they make eye contact. Kieran attempted the noise again, worse this time because of how hard he was laughing. The Dragonair gave the two weird looks as Cereza clutched her stomach doubled over in a fit of giggles. She mimicked the sound Kieran made and Kieran splashed some water on her in playful mock offense. "Shut up!" He managed to get out between laughs. Cereza stuck her tongue out at him. "Come over here and make me, Kiki." She challenged. She's immediately met with another splash to the face, soaking her clothes. There was a moment of pause while Kieran waited for a reaction, Cereza pushing her wet bangs from her face. She grins deviously before splashing him back, revenge-soaking his clothes and forcing him to push his own bangs back from his face. It didn't take long for it to turn into a full-scale water fight, Deadeye and one of the initial Dratini even join in, the two dragonlings giggling at the silliness. Kieran waded into deeper water to escape, the point where he couldn't touch the bottom. He treaded water as he looked back at Cereza, only to find her gone. His head whipped around, looking for her. Out of nowhere, he suddenly felt arms wrap around his waist, dragging him down underwater. His yelp was cut off by the mouthful of water he soon ingested, dragged under by his assailant. Kieran struggled free with a push to where he assumed the mischievous attacker's face was. The two surfaced with a gasp and Cereza barely caught her breath before laughing as Kieran coughed out the water he swallowed. "Point, Cereza!" She announced triumphantly, shivering slightly from being soaked to the bone. "Nuh uh, that's gotta be cheating!" Kieran protested, but he couldn't fight the smile on his face as he snorted at the whole situation. "You're just a sore loser, Kieran!" Cereza splashed water at him. She started to tread back to the shallower end but didn't expect Kieran to chase after her and drag her back. She yelped in alarm as held her in a vice grip. "Hey, what gives?" "Well since the move is fair..." He dropped Cereza then dunked her under, already laughing when she came up for air with a gasp, coughing up the water she swallowed. "Are you okay?" He asked with a smile as his laughter died down. Cereza huffed in mock offense. "Wouldn't you like to know?" She mocked Carmine's sharp tone with a partial falsetto, earning another snort from Kieran. "Seriously, we should go dry off though." "Aw man, you're right, how are we gonna dry off?" Kieran realized, going back to the shallow end with Cereza. Cereza grinned. "I've got an idea." When the two got back to shore, they wrung out their clothes to the best of their ability before trying out Cereza's 'idea'.

Cereza brought out Charon from his pokeball and Kieran immediately caught on. "This is a terrible idea." He stated. Cereza lightly punches his shoulder. "It'll be fine. Charon, kick up a gust for us, would ya?" She calls out to her avian friend. Charon caws in affirmation before blowing a strong wind at Kieran and Cereza, each powerful wingbeat aimed to dry away the water that clung to their clothes. After a minute, Cereza called over the rushing whistle of the wind. "Alright Charon, that's good!" The wind died down and Charon rested on a wisteria branch as Cereza and Kieran checked their clothes. Cereza looked at Kieran and snorted, holding back a snicker. He looked at her, eyes wide. "W-what's so funny?" His hair was thoroughly tousled and messy, Cereza's was no doubt the same. Wisteria petals were caught and tangled in his half-dried hair, matching the purple underlayer. "Hold on, you've got-" Cereza laughed lightly, leaning closer. "You've got something in your hair." She picked the petals out of the black and mauve locks, scattering them on the ground where they belonged when she was done. Kieran froze, not moving a muscle as Cereza meticulously raked her hands through his hair for a final check. "Yep, all good now." She leaned back then picked a petal from her own hair, going to where she set down her bag and shoes and bringing them to a spot under the wisteria tree to rest. Kieran followed close behind her after putting his own socks and shoes back on. She whistled for Deadeye's attention, and it was immediately caught. Deadeye chirped his goodbyes to his friends to which a chorus of little Dratini voices and richer Dragonair tones rang out in farewell. He darted back to shore where Cereza sat, trying to wrestle its way into her bag again. "Oh no you don't, you're sopping!" She grabbed the wriggling little Dreepy with one hand, holding him away from the bag as she pulled out a towel from her bag. Kieran's jaw dropped. "You had a towel this whole time?!" He asked in shock, his mouth forming another 'o' shape. Cereza realized her mistake. "Whoops." She shrugged, laughing as Kieran sighs, his shoulders slumped as he shook his head. She dried off Deadeye, wrapping the little dragon into a toweled burrito and setting him down. He was thoroughly bound so he couldn't move while he dried. She then pulled out two towels, one for her and one for Kieran. She tossed the towel at Kieran's head, laughing when it landed on his face in such a way that it covered it entirely, making him look like a ghost. "How many towels can you fit in that tiny bag?" He asked, baffled by the infinite inventory of the backpack. "Don't worry about it." Cereza waved it off. She leaned against the tree, relaxing as she watched the Dragonair once again. She took out a brush and untied her low twin tail braids, brushing out her hair with her fingers first before going in with the brush. Her hair was even paler blonde than the color of a Mimikyu's rag, the muted, pale color light enough to be mistaken for white in certain lighting and brown/gray in others. Her hair was normally twisted and a touch wild, probably the reason why she tied them back in low twin tails all the time. Now that it was down, Kieran could see that her hair was thick and wavy, like a hex maniac's. Deadeye managed to break free of his towel prison and he settled himself in Cereza's lap. Cereza focused on brushing her hair while it was still slightly wet, not wasting the chance.

Kieran heard a shift in the grass and his head snapped in the direction of the sound. He caught a glimpse of a blue tail fleeing behind a tree. Kieran tilted his head, trying to get a better look. A Dratini cowered by the tree, likely curious about Cereza and Kieran but too shy to get close. Kieran knelt down, thinking of how Cereza would approach the small dragonling. The small serpent hid its face behind its tail, trembling. He cleared his throat, taking another stab at the cooing dragon call. He was surprised to hear it half decent. Definitely not as polished as Cereza's, but recognizable. "I won't hurt you, we're friendly, I promise." He offered his hand gently to the Dratini, his voice gentle. The Dratini lifted its tail slightly to peek up at Kieran with one eye. Its stomach rumbled and it cowered again. Kieran took note of this and stood up, startling the Dratini. "Hold on, I'll be right back!" He rushed over to Cereza. "Cereza, do you have any more berries?" His voice was determined, earnest. Cereza raised her eyebrows. "Yeah, a few oran berries. Need some?" Kieran nodded and Cereza got out the berries, handing them to him. "What are they for-" "Thanks, bye!" He quickly went back to the Dratini and Cereza sat there slightly confused before going back to what she was doing. Kieran slowly held out an oran berry with a cupped hand. "C'mon little guy, I know you're hungry..." The Dratini tentatively approached, picking up the berry from his hand carefully and setting it down on the ground. As soon as the oran berry hit the grass, the Dratini started scarfing it down. Kieran raised his eyebrows then smiled. He got up to go sit by Cereza again, leaving the Dratini to eat its food in peace. The Dratini gulped down the last of its food then looked at Kieran walking away. It stayed where it was for a moment, as if considering. The Dratini cautiously slithered behind Kieran, trying its best to be sneaky. Kieran sat back down beside Cereza who at this point had moved on from brushing her hair to braiding it back to the twin tails they were used to. "What was that about?" She turned to greet him, scooting over a little so they sat a little closer together. Before Kieran could open his mouth, Cereza noticed a little white snout peeking out from behind the trunk of the wisteria tree they were sitting under. "I see you made a friend." "Huh?" Kieran blinked, confused. He turned to where Cereza was looking and spotted the Dratini that shied away at his gaze. "Oh! Come back for more berries?" He offered an empty hand like how Cereza did to the Dragonair. After a few seconds of suspense, the Dratini sniffed Kieran's hand flinching away a bit when Kieran turned it over so the Dratini could examine it fully. The Dratini licked his hand Kieran smiling at the gentle gesture. "Wow, he either really likes you or is licking the oran berry residue off your hand." Cereza stated. "Oh." Kieran replied awkwardly. He stifled a yawn, not wanting Cereza to think he was getting sleepy, or worse, bored. Cereza caught the way he started to yawn then conspicuously cleared his throat, however. "Alright then, I'll start packing up. We have a busy day tomorrow and I can imagine that Carmine is hell to deal with in the morning." Cereza had already folded all the towels, placing them in her weirdly infinite bag and zipping it up. Deadeye was nodding off, his head drooping then perking up, drooping then perking up. "I'm not tired-" Kieran started to protest only to be met with a hand over his mouth. "S h u t." Cereza said simply. She turned to her dozing dragonling, taking out his ball. "Alright Deadeye. Home time." Deadeye made a half-awake sound of protest. He attempted to nudge away the ball but in his sleepy daze he accidentally nudged the button in the process, returning him to his ball regardless. Cereza chuckled and shook her head.

"Are you gonna say goodbye to your little friend there?" Cereza put Deadeye's ball in the pokeball section of her bag. Kieran turned to the little Dratini. It had now become comfortable, resting its head on his wrist. He gently removed the small serpent from his arm, patting its head. "Travel safe 'lil guy." The Dratini chirped and bumped its head against Kieran's hand like a skitty. Kieran chuckled before standing and waving goodbye. Cereza turned, having already started on the way home. "You coming?" She called back. Kieran nodded, glancing one last time at the lake before running after Cereza.

Epilogue: (after the Ogerpon fight) Kieran finished tying up his hair. He looked in the mirror. It was strange to see his face in so much detail. Well, he was going to have to get used to it from now on. "Kiki? Our bus is leaving soon. I'm gonna head over, don't be a Slowpoke like last time, alright?" Carmine knocked on the door before calling through it. Pretty courteous by her standards. Her footsteps and the creaking of the floorboards suggested her exit. Kieran slung his bag over his shoulder. He had already packed. He had a lot of time since he was holed up in his room since the evening of the night before. He kept the goodbyes with his grandparents brief. His grandfather noticed Kieran's change in demeanor but decided to let him be. There was no use trying to convince a Rhyhorn to budge after all.

Kieran opened the door and took one step out the door before being interrupted by a Pokemon's call at his feet. The door slid shut behind him as he looked around for the source, eventually looked down. A blue tail, a rounded white snout, and a pair of fin-like ears that were perked up and alert. It was a Dratini- no, the Dratini from that night at Wisteria Lake. "If you came lookin' for more berries, you're barking up a Sudowoodo." Kieran dismissed, trying to step around the serpent. The Dratini became annoyed and blocked his path, making a noise of protest. "I don't have food for you, shoo!" Kieran stepped over the Pokemon, continuing on his way to the bus stop and trying to ignore the Dratini. The Dratini and the tightness in his chest. He shoved down the memories of wisteria petals and moonlit lakes. His train of thought was interrupted by a bump he felt on his ankle. He looked down to find the Dratini pushing a pokeball against his ankle with its snout. He had to give the creature points for its tenacity. Kieran's eyebrows raised. He leaned down on one knee, picking up the Pokeball. "How did you...?" His thoughts escaped his lips. The Dratini puffed up its chest, though a slight tremble gave away its nervousness. Kieran considered it. Dragonite are strong, he needed strength if he was going to surpass her. "Hm. Well, only cuz you're stubborn. I better see this enthusiasm in training, got it?" He held the pokeball down to the Dratini's level, allowing it to press the button with its snout. The ball shook once then made a nodding motion, a satisfying click signifying Kieran's successful catch. Kieran stood, pocketing the ball. "We're flying to the top, Dratini." He mused under his breath as he continued on to the bus stop, the sky gray and tense with the threat of a storm. ... THIS TOOK ME THREE DAYS TO WRITE HOLY BINGLE Me, clueless: I'll just write this cute little thing lol, it should take me like 20 minutes 5,663 words and three whole days later: Anyway, first formal blurb, I'm totally not nervous what are you talking about. Special thanks to my beta reader, I love you forever pookie :} I always want to hear your thoughts and questions, my askbox is but a humble Munchlax starved of berries!! (I'm in a Pokemon metaphor mood rn lmao)

✨Do whatever you want forever✨

~ Cytoplasm

[whump-card]

This Death That I Chose: Chapter 12

1922 words

CW: implied noncon, forced to listen, gun violence, bombings

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~~~

Tao woke suddenly, blinking up at the underside of a bed. The only thing he could think about was the pain in his leg. The kind of pain that made his brain go holy shit holy shit holy shit are we dying?

Until he remembered how it happened.

He rolled his eyes around. He lay on the lower of a pair of bunk beds, in a tiny cinderblock room with a toilet-sink combo in the back corner. The door was metal, with a small safety-glass window.

He pushed himself up on his elbows with a grunt, and took stock of his knee. It was covered by loose orange pants – he wore a shirt that matched – but when he reached down to feel it, it seemed to be immobilized by some sort of slim-fitting cast underneath that stretched from mid-thigh to mid-shin.

Exhausted by even that small amount of movement, Tao dropped back onto the threadbare pillow with a sigh. The bunk above him shifted.

“Tao? You awake?”

Vic dropped down from the upper bunk, and crouched at Tao’s side.

“Hey,” he said when he saw Tao’s open eyes, “How’re you feeling?”

Tao took a breath and turned his face away.

“I’m glad you’re alive, Vic,” he said slowly, “But fuck you.”

“Woah, what?” Vic laughed nervously.

“I know about you and Lark,” Tao hissed.

“…Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh!’” Tao looked back at Vic, suddenly filled with rage. “Why the fuck would you do that?!”

Vic sat back on his heels, the guilt clear on his face.

“He begged me to, Josh,” he said quietly, “I didn’t understand what… I just didn’t understand.”

Tao fumed in silence for a minute.

“If it weren’t for my leg,” he said eventually, “I’d kick your ass, right now.”

“Yeah, that – that’s fair,” Vic yielded.

“And now Lark is… fuck!” Tao pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to push away the visions of Lark, lying like a broken doll on the stone stage. But it wasn’t just Lark – it was all the rebels who had died that night. Tao’s friends, his comrades. And who knew how many more had fought to the death rather than be captured. The sense of loss threatened to overwhelm Tao, clawing at the inside of his chest and stealing his breath.

“I’m so sorry, Tao,” said Vic, his voice hollow with unshed tears, “I’m so sorry.”

Tao didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what would happen to them. He didn’t know what would happen to what once was the United States, now that the Commander was dead.

Somehow, he felt that it would be bad.

~~~

Marina was inconsolable when they reached the rendezvous point and Karlo and Tao weren’t there.

Faye had revealed a rare human side, and held her tightly as she screamed and cried.

They set up camp in the penultimate level of a parking garage, the only structure left of an otherwise leveled town. It gave them good visibility of the surrounding area, and a long radio reach.

They listened to coms chatter all night. The news that the Commander was dead was met with solemn silence – as was the announcement that a group of captured rebels were being taken to the Capital prison.

Marina started looking at maps.

In the weak light of early morning, Marina approached Becca.

“Is it possible to make bombs out of car batteries?”

Becca didn’t reply. But when Hannah said, “Oh hell yeah you can!” Becca didn’t exactly say no, either.

~~~

Being trapped in the prison cell was torture. Tao was provided no pain medication, so he sweated, and groaned, and writhed. The lights never turned off, so he slept in fits and starts, daydreams seeping into nightmares spilling into daydreams. The axe coming down. The deathmasks of his friends. A car in flames.

Food was delivered to them through a slot in the door at odd hours and in inconsistent portions, as if to keep them confused. Or perhaps, with the Commander gone, his systems were falling apart. Who knew.

It felt like days before their monotony was finally interrupted by the door flinging open with a bang, startling Tao and Vic out of their restless dozing.

General Gordon stood in the doorway, a wild smile on his face.

“Tao, right?”

Tao kept his mouth shut, watching the General warily, but Gordon shrugged.

“Don’t bother lying, Lark told us everything.”

“He’s alive?” gasped Tao, pushing himself upright.

“Of course he’s alive, why would I waste an ass like that?”

Tao gritted his teeth. “What do you want?”

Gordon’s eyes glinted above his smug grin.

“I want to make a trade.” He stepped further into the cell, and a soldier moved to take his place in the doorway. The soldier held a pair of crutches.

“You get these,” the General proposed, “As long as you listen very nicely, very politely, to this recording that I have.” He pulled a small device out of his pocket.

It would be nice to not need Vic’s help to use the toilet, Tao thought, but there was no way this was that simple.

Gordon didn’t wait for an answer, however. He continued on.

“Yes, Lark’s been a very good boy for us. After we patched him up, I decided the boys in the barracks deserved a treat. They’ve been so loyal. I stop by every once in a while, and Lark makes… just the prettiest noises.”

He hit a button on the recorder. Wordless, rhythmic, painful cries, high and plaintive, came through tinny and small from the recorder’s meager speaker.

Tao felt every muscle in his body tense. The pain in his leg pulsed as his heart rate picked up. Horror and rage flooded his system.

“What the fuck?” he hissed.

“Ah-ah-ah!” Gordon scolded him cheerfully, “You have to listen quietly if you want-”

“Fuck your crutches!” With nothing else at hand, Tao threw his pillow at the General. It hit him in the face, and when it fell harmlessly away he was no longer smiling.

“Fine.” He clicked the recording off, just as a voice was asking, “You like that, don’t you, you dirty-” “Have it your way.” Clearly pissed that his mind-games hadn’t gone according to plan, he turned on his heel to leave. But as he was passing through the doorway the whole building shook with an unholy, cacophonous crash. It sent Gordon stumbling, and reverberated through Tao’s bones.

“What the hell is that?” the General shouted over the continuing rumbles, then, seeing something off to the side exclaimed, “Oh shit!” He took off, slamming the cell door behind him.

Vic jumped down from the upper bunk and pressed his face to the little window in the door.

“Oh shit indeed!” he echoed the General, “Tao, you’re never going to believe this!” He grinned over his shoulder.

“What?” Tao demanded, his hopes rising.

“It’s the Watch, they blew the fucking wall open! And…” Vic took a step back and tried the door. It opened. “Yes!”

Tao, grunting with pain, heaved his injured leg off the bed to rest on the floor. “Come help me!”

“Hang on!” Vic ducked through the door out of sight for a moment before returning, bearing the crutches. “They left something behind!”

He helped Tao to his feet and situated the crutches under his arms. Outside their cell, the building continued to rumble and shouts echoed as orange-suited prisoners ran past their door. Tao followed Vic out of their cell into the chaos.

The prison block, Tao could now see, was a two-story structure of cells encircling an empty, open space in a U-shape. The side with no cells, to their left, was blown open, with clouds of dust yet to settle over scattered rubble. Through the hole in the wall was another chamber, but it obviously reach the exterior somewhere beyond that – the prisoners, who had all at this point realized this was their chance at freedom, were making a collective mad dash for the open wound in the building. Standing within the tide, but letting them through, was a group of Watchmen; kitted out with stolen and scavenged weapons and tactical gear, blacked out with spraypaint. One of them held two prison guards on their knees at gunpoint off the to side; looking around, Tao couldn’t see any other guards.

“Let’s go!” Vic started across the atrium towards the Watch, waving an arm, “Over here!”

“Wait!” Tao shouted, “Where did that rat-fuck General go? He knows where Lark is!”

Two of the Watchmen had spotted them and run over. It was Hannah with a rifle, and someone else with a pistol, who shouted, “Where’s Karlo!”

Tao did a double take. “Marina?!”

Indeed, it was Marina’s face peeking out from under an oversized helmet. Her angrily determined expression was a familiar comfort.

“Where’s Karlo? Is he here with you?” she demanded.

“No, but a man was just here…” Tao scanned the room, and almost dropped a crutch when he pointed, “There!” A face flashed in one of the cell door windows before ducking down. “He knows where Lark is!”

Hannah unslung an extra rifle from her shoulder and handed it to Vic. “Let’s get the bastard!”

They charged towards the cell where General Gordon was hiding, Tao taking a second to figure it out before finding he could swing himself along fairly fast on the crutches.

“How the hell’d you get here?” he asked as they moved.

“It’s fuckin’ wild out there, boss!” Hannah replied, “Everything’s falling apart now that the Commander’s dead, soldiers are abandoning the Capital or holing themselves up in barracks, Capital civilians are rioting, this prison was being run by a skeleton crew!” They reached the cell door. “Once we started blowing shit up, motherfuckers ran.”

Vic looked into the cell through the little window.

“There are more of us than there are of you!” he shouted, “Drop your weapons, now!” There was a pause, then he looked over his shoulder with a grin. “Fuckin’ cowards!” He flung open the door and lifted his rifle. Inside stood Gordon and the soldier who had been carrying the crutches, their arms raised and their pistols on the floor. Gordon’s face was a twist of fear attempting to hide behind rage.

“Kick ‘em to me!” Vic ordered, and they had no choice but to scuff their guns across the floor to the rebels. Hannah scooped them up, sticking one in her own belt and handing the other to Tao. Tao tucked it into his waistband, and stepped forward.

“You’re going to take us to Lark now,” he said, “You got that?”

Gordon was breathing hard, trying to sneer but failing as his chest heaved and his hands shook.

“Fine,” he hissed.

Vic gestured with his gun for the General to walk forward. Then he swung his weapon towards the soldier.

“Eh. We don’t need you.” He aimed down and shot the soldier in the foot.

“Vic!” someone shouted over the solder’s scream, “Geneva convention!”

Tao turned to see Becca and the rest of the Watch had joined them, along with the surviving captured rebels and what looked like a few new volunteers, in their orange prison uniforms.

Vic beamed at her. “Sue me later?”

“Quit fucking around!” Tao shouted, and turned on Gordon, “Take us to Lark, now!”

Gordon slowly walked forward, keeping his arms raised. He was doing less to hide his fear, now, and watched them all warily.

Becca stepped aside to let him through.

“Lead the way, fucker.”

~~~

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[ourlittlevampire]

Imagine Early Sunsets Over Monroeville but it's Mikey getting turned into a zombie. There's no way Gerard would be able to bring himself to kill Mikey, even when he's in that state. He lets him live, trapping him in his basement room so he can't hurt him. For weeks he stays in their childhood home slowly running out of food. Gerard is also slowly losing his mind. He's used to being alone and not going outside, that's not the problem. The problem is that Mikey won't shut up. His little brother is constantly growling, moaning and banging around down there at all hours of the day. He can't sleep with that sound. He can't sleep because he's starving. He wishes Mikey would just shut up. He doesn't know why he's making that much noise. He wasn't like that a couple weeks ago, when he had first turned.

Starving, Gerard realised. Mikey is starving, just like him. He knew what those shambling things outside ate. Watched them attempt to do that with his beloved brother. It made him shudder just to think about. But what if Mikey didn't eat? He couldn't claim to know the first thing about. He didn't know if they could starve to death. What he did know was that the zombies he saw outside seemed to be less now. Maybe they had just moved on from New Jersey... or maybe they had eaten all the humans they could and starved to death.

Coming out of his thoughts, Gerard suddenly realised that the house was quiet. Quiet for the first time since his brother had first turned. He had an overwhelming feeling that something was wrong. Against his better judgment, he unbarricaded the door to the basement. It was so dark in there. All of his stuff was thrown around, his precious comic books torn to pieces. He would be furious, if he wasn't more focused on his little brother sprawled out on top of those shredded comics.

"Mikey?" He called out, concern rising in his voice. At the sound of his voice, the zombified man lifted his head. It looked like it took all of his strength to do so. He growled weakly, a hand barely twitching toward him.

This wasn't good. When he'd gotten Mikey into this room, he had had to beat him off with a broom. His little brother had been strong, almost stronger than him. Now he couldn't even get up. His little brother had always been skinny, but his body underneath the shreds of his t-shirt looked positively emaciated.

Mikey was starving to death. He knew that now. But what could he do? Feed himself to Mikey?

That thought played inside his mind for an uncomfortable amount of time. He was only pulled out of it when he heard screaming. Human screams. In the early days of the infection, it hadn't been uncommon to hear suffering. Now, though, it was something startling. He rushed upstairs and looked outside.

A woman, a relatively young one, was on the street outside of his house. She was covered in blood and holding a hand to her side. She was screaming for help as she limped down the lane. He didn't know what had happened to her, but she was probably bit. He already had one zombie to deal with, he didn't need another. Gerard moved from the window, content to be a bystander. Then, he rethought.

Gerard opened the front door. He cautiously peeked out. Surprisingly, no zombies around.

"Hey!" He called out. "Are you bit?" He asked.

The woman whorled around to look at him. Relief washed over her face. She started coming towards him.

"No!" She replied. "I cut myself climbing through a window." She moved her hand to show a giant gash in her tank top. He couldn't really see the wound, but all that blood did not look promising. "Do you have any medical supplies?" She asked.

"Yes.... They're down in the basement." He replied.

-

The screams had been horrible. It was worth it, though, to ensure his little brother would stay alive. He could hear him banging around down in his former room once more. He just hoped Mikey wouldn't get hungry again any time soon.

[august-donovan]

August’s 34th birthday was one for the books. Since his incarceration at seventeen, birthdays had become a day like any other for a decade. And then he was released and birthdays were something that he had to readjust to. To this day it is still hard for the man to openly accept gifts or recognition. He hated being in the center of attention. Addie asked him early on how he wanted to spend his birthday, she was always accommodating of his introverted self. It was something about her that he absolutely loved. Naturally, August requested a lowkey day with just them, his son, and their combined dogs. And that’s what she gave him. 

His day started off with a bang, quite literally. Ares was jumping up and down on his father’s bed, pounding on the bottom of a cooking pot with a wooden spoon as he sang Happy Birthday off key. It was loud and disorienting from the jumping but August loved every moment of it and he would have this as his morning alarm every day for the rest of his life if he could. August sat up in bed, laughing as he watched his young son finish his rendition of the song. Once he had, August clapped proudly for his son before he opened his arms to catch the child as he leapt towards him. “Happy birthday, daddy!” Ares said, his blue eyes shimmering up at him. 

Adaline made her presence known now—she had been standing in the doorway, silently laughing—now she approached the bed, a breakfast tray in her hand. Tied to one of the handles was a balloon that read “happy birthday” in a curvy font. Ares was bouncing up and down on his dad and then crawled beside him so he could see the food. “Look what we did!” Addie said cheerfully, showing August the pancake that was covered in candles, it looked more than 34 to August; he had a feeling Ares had too much fun adding the candles so he kept going until there was no more. 

— — — — —

The next morning, August was the first one up. With Addie and Ares still sleeping, he took it upon himself to make them breakfast after they had spoiled him so much the previous day. He was standing in front of the kitchen island, rapping along to Phora that was coming from the speaker on the other end of the counterspace. In front of him, he was slicing up strawberries, bananas, and apples. When he saw Addie coming into the room, he couldn’t help but smile at her. She was so beautiful. He felt his heart racing at the sight of her. As soon as she was in his arms, this explosion of love only intensified. His hands slid down her waist to pull her closer—bam! The loud knock at the door startled them both, sending Addie and August a few inches apart. 

August slid his hand along Addie’s jaw in an attempt to lull away the concern in her eyes. “Stay here,” he whispered and started for the door. Every footstep he took grew heavier and heavier the further away from Addie he went. August had no idea who was on the other side of the door, but he knew whatever was the reason was bad—the urgency in the knock revealed this. Slowly, August peeked through the side window and saw several officers standing, one with his gun tight in his hand but aimed towards the ground. 

His breathing intensified immediately. It was happening and there was nothing he could do about this. He thought about his son sleeping upstairs. He could hear the dogs barking loudly, still secured behind the bedroom door thankfully. His thoughts went to Addie and how scared she must be in the kitchen wondering who was banging on his door this early in the morning. August wanted to run to her, to try and explain this away, but how could he? Another loud bang came from the barrier in front of him and August jumped again. He didn’t want to open the door but he had to. He wanted to be strong but bravery ran out the back door the moment he peeked out the window and saw the officers. 

“August Donovan, we know you’re in there, open up now. This is your last chance to go willingly!” came the booming voice of an officer. 

August gripped the doorknob now but still he couldn’t open it. He felt his eyes burning with fear, his heart was hammering against his chest, and he wondered if his heavy breathing was turning into a panic attack. “Open it,” he muttered to himself, swallowing hard, and then he yanked it open as fast as he could and raised his hands up to show the cops he meant them no harm. 

The largest of the bunch grabbed August by the scruff of his neck and slammed him into the wall, pulling his hands behind his back so swiftly and aggressively that he felt his muscles pulling in his shoulders. August didn’t resist. He didn’t react. He didn’t speak. He was compliant. His mind was already trying to pull him back in time to those terrible days in prison. Having guards slam him into walls just because, being frisked for no damn reason, being attacked, degraded. It wouldn’t have surprised him if one of the men had taken a jab at him right now. He could hear someone reading him his rights but he wasn’t listening. All he could think about was Addie and Ares, they were here. She was right there, just twenty feet away in the other room. He tried to keep his composure, even as they tightened the handcuffs too much on his wrists. He didn’t react. He stayed calm. And then she was there. 

Addie ran towards him as they started pulling him out of the home. She pulled at his arm and August wanted to curl up into her warmth and light, breathe her in and calm his anxiety that was festering. She pleaded with the men. She was so adamant that this was a mistake. She had so much faith in August. It was gut wrenching to see her cry and plead without being able to wrap her in his arms. He pulled against the grip of the officers and leaned into her now, needing to inhale her aroma to keep with him now. 

Officer Logan was demanding that she let him go. Don’t let go, he wanted to scream at her but he knew better. The cop walked towards Addie now and August felt rage. If one of them laid their hands on her, August would go ballistic and then this would really be a shitshow. “Baby, you gotta let go,” he whispered against her face when Addie held onto him tighter. “Baby, let go,” he said more sternly and now he was trying to pull himself away from her so the cops didn’t touch her. They didn’t deserve to touch an angel, even just to move her away. August stared at Addie for a moment and then he was being roughly turned the opposite direction to head out of the house. 

He tried to look back once but the cop slammed his head forward and he had to swallow his embarrassment. No…this was humiliation. He was dragged out of his house in front of his girlfriend. 

— — — — —

August was dragged into an interrogation room and left to stew for what felt like days. So much time had passed that his stomach started to grumble from hunger. He was cold, his feet still bare. He didn’t even have a damn shirt on. He tried to sit back in the metal chair, but the handcuffs restricted him and kept him slouched over the cold table that they were connected to. He knew they were watching him behind the glass and because of this August tried to remain as stoic as possible but his mind was a different problem. 

He kept slipping back to his former life behind bars. Everything about the cold interrogation room reminded him of his endless nights in lockup. He could almost hear cell doors slamming in the distance and he told himself it was just in his mind…but it felt so real. 

Another stretch of time went on before finally the door opened and a beefy detective came into the room, huffing as he sat at the table. He laid a folder on top of the table between them and looked at August. “Well, Mr. Donovan, you’re in a lot of shit,” he said, tapping the manilla folder and wheezed. “With your record, we could put you back in prison for the rest of your life. So, let’s just make this easy on you, yeah? Tell us where your brother and former CO Warren Cold are and we’ll let you go.” 

August stared blankly at the detective but said nothing as he had since he was first taken in for questioning though he wasn’t sure if they had something to charge him with. 

“So, that’s how it’s gonna be?” said the large detective, pointing a stubby finger at August. “How about a night in the tank then?” he barked, “seeing as you don’t wanna stay in this room.” He grabbed the folder off the table and walked out of the room. 

A few moments later, Officer Logan appeared. He unhooked August from the table before twisting his arms to handcuff them behind his back as he led him out of the interrogation room and to inmate take in. He was handed off to another officer who was instructed to send him to the tank and made note that he was “uncooperative.” After August was forced to undress for a cavity search and then issued a state jumpsuit and shoes, he was taken to the “back of the house” as one cop put it. 

This was the dirtiest part of the jailhouse. The lighting was dim and faulty, there was no air conditioning, the floor had a film of grime on it, and the cells were rusted, walls drenched in various stains that August didn’t want to investigate. The officer opened the door to one of the cells and shoved August inside of it before closing the door. Before August could even turn around to have his handcuffs removed, the cop was gone. 

“Asshole,” August whispered and sat on the bench that was built against the wall, it shuffled under his weight, it was wobbly. He tried to loosen the handcuffs on his wrists that were beginning to rub raw. 

He was exhausted and hungry. Over the next hours —or maybe just minutes— he would catch himself drifting off to sleep and would wake up just as his back was beginning to droop against the nasty wall. This conflict continued until his exhaustion was too much to handle and he fell asleep. He drifted off into an uneasy sleep. 

The cell door opened unexpectedly and the deafening noise of three hundred inmates cheering arrived. August stepped out of his cell, his cellmate at his side. Below them a riot had broken out. The COs tried to get a handle on the situation, but there were too many inmates. August stepped back into the cell, leaning against his cot. “Yo, we gotta go out there Gus. If we don’t, that’s picking a side and we’ll be marked.” Craft started out of the cell, taking a left hook from a rival gang almost immediately. The large man bolstered his shoulders to make him appear larger to August, but this didn’t scare him off. In fact, it gave August the courage he needed and he stepped up, punched the giant in the nose and sent him tumbling over the rails to the lower deck. August helped his cellmate up before they ran down the staircase to find anyone affiliated with the Hilltop gang. 

While Craft squared up with a CO who attempted to apprehend him, August was ambushed by Juan and Pedro, two of Carlos’ men who had recently been incarcerated. “What’s up, bitch?” said Pedro, walking towards August, Juan moving in to keep him pinned in. “Carlos said we’d find you here. He told us to give you a message.” 

Fire pierced through August’s side and soon he was seeing white spots. He felt faint and flush, staggering backward which was when he saw Manny, a third gang member who had snuck up behind him and plunged a homemade shank into his lower back. 

August gasped as he woke up from the memory nightmare. He felt fire expelling from the scar of the wound, he tried grabbing at his side (with difficulty due to the handcuffs) wondering if he had been stabbed again—did one of the guards slip in while he was sleeping? He slumped down on the floor, his chest was tight and he was having difficulty breathing. How could he go back to prison? The thought of being locked up away from his family, his son, Addie…it made him want to die. The man curled up in a ball in the corner of the dank and drafty cell and he felt the dark cloud shrouding him.

[littlebunnygold]

Meet Me At Our Spot (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Pt. Two 

Pt One

summary: one week after the accident, Kiara drags you to a party. 

warnings: swearing, talk of abuse, underage drinking

word count: 2.6k

sorry this took so long to get out, I lost inspiration for the longest time, and I don't even really like this but I really wanted to get it out lol. hope you enjoy!!

~1 week later~

You hadn't spoken to any of your friends for a week, minus the one time you texted Kie to let her know you were okay. However, you not answering didn’t stop JJ from calling you and texting you a million times. He even showed up at your front door, but you couldn’t bring yourself to open it. You had never been scared of him before, not once in your life. You’ve known him since the third grade for crying out loud! He never exploded on you like that before, much less became physical.

It felt like the longest week of your life, not doing anything except laying in your bed and watching reruns of Friends. You could still barely wrap your head around the whole situation. Was it your fault? Did you push him too far? He did tell you to leave him alone so many times... but still that's not justification for pushing and slapping you. He’d pissed you off countless times before and you’ve never acted that way towards him. 

You were ripped from your thoughts by the sound of banging on your window. Startled by the noise, you jumped, then slowly made your way towards the window, slightly expecting to see JJ there. To your surprise, Kie was standing in front of you with a takeout container and beer. You opened your window and ushered her inside, “Hey you” the girl said, putting her things down and leaning in to hug you. You happily accepted her hug and held her tight, “Hey” you said back, taking in the moment. 

You really missed her. 

She pulled away from you and looked at your face, slightly grimacing when she saw the lightly coloured green and yellow bruise on your cheekbone, “How are you? We’ve all been so worried, nobody's heard from you since..” Kie said as she trailed off, not knowing if it was okay to bring up the events that went down a mere week ago. 

You sighed and sat down on your bed, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m fine, I just needed some space for a bit” you said biting your lip. You looked up at Kie and gave her a small smile, “I missed you though. Life is boring without seeing my best friend everyday” you said and Kie made her way to your bed, taking a seat beside you. “Have you spoken to him at all?” Kie asked while you fiddled with your fingers, “No. He’s called me seven thousand times though.. I want to talk to him, I just don’t know what to say” you said, meeting Kiara’s gaze. 

It was true, you missed the shit out of JJ, he was your other half and you were convinced he’s your soulmate. You just didn’t know what you would say to him when you saw him, so you avoided it, “He’s been a complete mess, Y/n. He hasn’t left his room since you left the Chateau, won’t talk to any of us. He won’t even go surfing” Kie said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “Which is obviously not an excuse, he should have never put his hands on you, and believe me when I say Pope, John B and I reminded him of that for the past week. I still can’t believe he did that, we were all so shocked. After you left he started sobbing, I’ve never seen him like that before, like, ever” she continued.

You let out a shaky breath, thinking about how JJ felt about this hadn’t really crossed your mind. Even though he felt like shit about hurting you, you felt like shit because he felt like shit. What the hell is that about? You stood up and made your way to the beer and takeout box that Kie brought with her, “What’s this for?” you asked, changing the subject. Kie took the hint, and grinned at you, “Oh, you know, I’m only the best friend in the entire world and brought you dinner” she said and you giggled, “And the beer?” you asked with a raised eyebrow. Kie stood up and started walking towards you, “There’s a kegger tonight, I thought we could go to get your mind off things and get you out of this room” she said, grabbing a beer and opening it. You went to protest, but Kie quickly put her hands up in defense, “And before you say no, I thought this kegger could be a girl's only thing. Just you and me, getting drunk and dancing our problems away” and to that, you could only smile.

Maybe it would be nice just to let go of everything for a night and have fun with your best friend. You grabbed a beer and opened it, “Okay, okay fine. I’m in” you said as you both took swigs of your beer, “Just let me change, I haven’t taken these clothes off for a week” you said, and began heading to the bathroom, “Yeah, I can smell” Kie replied as you both began giggling. 

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad...

You finished getting ready and looked at yourself in the mirror. You had on a white cropped tank top and denim shorts on. Your hair was down and messy like you liked it. You finished your look by adding your green hightop converse. Once you were satisfied, you came back into your room to find Kie on her phone. You grabbed another beer and challenged Kie to a shotgun race. 

After about four of those, it was safe to say you were both feeling pretty tipsy, “Alright, let’s go get wasted!” you cheered walking out of your house, Kie right behind you smiling. 

The walk to the kegger was fun, you and Kie laughed about all of the dumb shit you guys used to do, it felt nice to think about something other than JJ, even if it’s only for a little while. 

When the two of you got to the beach, there had to be at least a thousand people there. Pogues, Kooks and Tourons combined, everybody was hammered and having a blast. You looked over at Kie and grinned, “This is gonna be fun!” you exclaimed, causing her to laugh. 

She grabbed your hand and dragged you to the closest speaker, clearing space for the two of you to dance to the pop song loudly playing for all to hear. You took turns twirling each other around, giggling when Kie tripped over her own foot, almost knocking both of you to the sand. 

After a couple songs played, and a couple beers were drank, Kie decided to go to the keg and grab some more, “I’ll be right back!” she drunkenly yelled over the music, to which you nodded your head back in response. 

As you watched her walk away, you continued to dance, until you heard a deep voice yell, “Fuck you, Kook!” from across the bonfire. You could recognize that voice from anywhere, it was the voice that had you crying in your room for the past week, the voice that you were drinking to try and forget. 

It was the voice of your boyfriend. 

Within seconds, you saw a fight break out between a couple of the boys, quickly making your way over, you could see it was JJ, John B and Pope fighting Topper, Kelce and Rafe. You had no idea what the fight was about, but it didn’t really matter, all you could see was JJ beating Rafe so badly he was bloody and on the ground.

 When the fighting from John B and Pope subsided, JJ was still hitting Rafe while he was down, and you were watching in horror. You knew there had always been tension between the two, and not to say that Rafe didn’t deserve it, but it was still troubling to watch someone bleed so much. 

After a few more seconds, you averted your gaze from JJ only to meet eyes with Pope who looked surprised to see you when his eyes widened. He nudged John B who quickly looked over at you, the same look on his face as Pope.

“JJ, come on man, quit it he’s already down!” Topper yelled, grabbing JJ’s arm so he would stop swinging at Rafe. JJ shrugged off his hand and stood up, breathing heavily and wiping blood from his nose. He looked around at the crowd that had gathered and scoffed, “Y’all can go back to drinking now, the shows fucking over!” he yelled at everybody, flailing his arms as he spoke.  

You watched him walk towards John B and Pope, “JJ…” Pope said, gesturing towards where you were standing, “Yeah, I know I took it too far, could we just not talk-” JJ replied but was swiftly cut off by John B, “JJ! Y/N’s here” he said.JJ stopped in his tracks, jaw dropping slightly and eyes barely blinking. John B nodded his head towards you, making JJ spin around to meet your stare. You were standing 20 feet apart but you could feel everything he was saying with his eyes. You could only imagine what your face looked like.

 Looking at him made your heart skip a beat. Although it’s only been a week, he was a sight for sore eyes, busted lip and all. You felt like one of those cheesy cartoons where your eyes turn into hearts and pop out of your head. All you wanted to do was run to him and feel his hands on you, his lips on your neck and arms around your body. But you couldn’t get your feet to move. 

You still couldn’t forget what happened between the two of you. The reason you haven’t seen him in a week, the reason you were at this party, and most likely the reason JJ picked a fight with the Kooks. The memory rested in the back of your head, preventing you from taking the first step towards him.

Then, suddenly, when you looked at him, all you felt was anger. Anger for how he treated you, anger towards him for making you feel like it was your fault, for giving you a bruise on your face, for shutting out your friends for a week because you couldn’t bear to see the looks on their faces when they saw you. 

The change in emotion was enough to get your feet moving away from JJ. 

You dropped your gaze from him, grabbing a beer out of some dude's hand and walking in the other direction of the boy as fast as you could. If you knew your boyfriend, you knew it would only be a matter of time until he found you, because he knew exactly where you would go.

For as long as you had known JJ, the two of you had a special spot on the beach, hidden away by sand dunes and some trees, you could go to that spot and feel safe. Whether it was something to do with his dad, or just needing a break from the world, you and JJ went to this spot together and were able to breathe out all the cruelness of OBX. It was your spot. 

You slowly, and messily, made your way to your spot, the beers you and Kie shared still in your system. The whole walk here, all you could think about was JJ. How much you loved him, how much you needed him, and how you couldn’t imagine living life on this island without him. Then you think back to last week, and the discolored bruise on your cheek. Everything just feels so complicated now.. You look out at the ocean watching the waves crash and fall against the moonlight, the silence surrounding you was deafening. That is, until you heard a thump coming from behind you. You turned your head, noticing a beer bottle in the sand just a few inches from your feet.

Cocking your head to the side in confusion, you pick the bottle up and look at it, noticing it’s JJ’s favorite beer. Your spot was just over this small sand dune, and as you got closer you could hear sniffling. Determined to figure this out, you marched quickly around the dune to your spot, heart nearly falling out of your butt as you do. With his knees tucked into his chest, and his head in his hands, you knew it was JJ's blonde mop that was huddled up.  

As soon as you laid your eyes on him, you could tell he was crying. You could tell he's been crying. He looked up at you, mouth opening slightly as he aggressively wiped his tears away and stood up, keeping a reasonable distance between you. You could tell he was eyeing the bruise on your cheek by the way his chest tightened, “You should’ve seen it a few days ago, it was nasty” you said quietly, offering a small smile to try and ease the tension, but JJ didn’t move a muscle. He just kept staring at you, eyes bloodshot and a look on his face you couldn’t really understand. 

After a few moments, JJ took in a sharp breath and shook his head, “I don’t even know what to say.. I’ve been practicing this whole speech I would say when I finally saw you again, had it all written out and now I’m just- just blanking. Listen, y/n, I am so so fucking sorry for what I did” he began, rambling a little and fiddling with his hands. You took a step closer, getting a better look at his pale complexion, normally golden and glowing, and his bloody nose from fighting with Rafe. Needless to say, he looked like a mess. 

“JJ, you don't have-” you started but he interrupted you, putting his hands up, “Yes I do baby, you deserve an apology. Hell, you deserve a lot more than I can give you, but I want to tell you that this will never happen again. I promise you, okay? Whether you take me back or not, and I don’t blame you if you don’t, I just couldn't get my dad out of my head, he was riding me already about the boat and then he started talking about you and the Pogues, and you were there and I was so angry, but I moved in with John B, so I wont be around him anymore and I promise you I-I.. I just-” he stopped rambling and started tearing up again, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anybody, y/n, and-and I can’t imagine losing you.. But I understand-” he was blubbering at this point, and you were crying too. You quickly closed the gap between you and interrupted him with a kiss, placing your hands on his cheeks, holding his head in place while his arms snaked around your waist, squeezing lovingly. 

You didn’t know what came over you, but suddenly being scared of JJ went to the back of your mind. You knew his words were true, and he would never do this again. You could see it in his teary, regretful, beautiful blue eyes. 

You pulled away and rested your forehead against his, closing your eyes, “I love you so much J” you whispered to him, “I know we have a lot more to talk about, but for right now can we just.. Sit?” you looked up at him, both of your eyes glistening wet with tears. He sighed with relief, giving you a small smile and nodding his head, sitting down in the sand with you between his lap. You rested your head against his chest while his arms wrapped around your body, his fingers playing with the hem of your shorts. 

You knew you had more things to discuss with JJ before things were back to normal, and he knew that too. But for now, you were just enjoying each other's company, surrounded by the moonlight and the subtle sound of waves crashing. You loved JJ more than you ever thought was possible, nothing was ever going to change that. 

[spnhunter4life]

So Long Version 2 Chapter 6

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: If you haven't picked up the hints of it yet, I think my feelings on John are made pretty clear in this chapter. This one is angsty, but we get to see Dean and Jenna taking care of each other which is always nice.

Warnings: character death, canon typical violence

Series Masterlist

Ages 20 and 22 May 18, 2001

We unlocked the door to the abandoned factory and took off in different directions, moving quietly, guns at the ready. After searching the entire manufacturing floor, we met at the bottom of the stairs leading to the office area. Dad started up the stairs first and I followed closely. The first office we checked was empty. The second too.

The third is where we found it. Peeking through a window, we saw the wraith standing above a man who had been tied to a chair. The wraith let the spike slide free from her wrist and moved to stand behind the man. He was struggling, trying desperately to free himself as she placed the tip behind his ear. Dad kicked the door in.

There was nothing I could do but watch in horror as the wraith, startled by the noise, shoved its spike deep into the man’s brain, killing him instantly. I knew I was dreaming. This was the third time I’d seen his death tonight, my mind processing the disastrous events of the day the only way it knew how. By making me relive it in excruciating detail. 

Dad fired three times in quick succession, each silver bullet finding a home in the wraith’s chest. I ran over to the man, desperately checking for a heartbeat even though I knew I wouldn’t find one.

“Let’s take care of this,” Dad said gruffly, already dragging the body of the wraith to the middle of the room.

And then we were at the factory door again, starting the whole nightmare over. We had just met up at the bottom of the stairs when I was woken up by a fist banging on the door. I groaned and turned on the lamp on the nightstand before getting out of bed and drowsily making my way to the door. Dad had gone out to drink. He never handled it well when we weren’t able to save somebody. He’d probably forgotten or lost his key, not for the first time.

I opened the door, ready to be faced with the sight of my dad drunk out of his mind and needing help getting to bed. My breath caught at what I saw instead.

“Dean? What’s wrong?” I asked, alarmed at the sight of him.

He was there, red eyed and miserable, looking completely lost. It concerned me more than it would have if he came here covered in blood.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he admitted, voice cracking. A tear rolled down his cheek.

“What’s wrong?” I asked again as I let him into the room, trying to remain calm despite the panic flaring in my chest. 

After shutting and locking the door, I began to look him over for any sign of injury. He looked ok apart from a mostly healed scratch on his right temple.

“Sorry to barge in on you like this,” he apologized as he wiped away another tear. He stood in the middle of the room, seeming unsure what to do with himself. “It’s just… well, like I said. I didn’t know where else to go.”

I’d only ever known him to be confident, unbreakable, ready to take on the world. I was one of the only people who ever got to see his more sensitive side, but even in his most vulnerable moments I’d never seen him this… broken. It scared me.

I grabbed his hand and pulled him with me to the couch. Seeing that he was ok physically, the next conclusion I came to was that something must be wrong with Sam or John. It couldn’t be anything too serious. If there was something really bad happening he would have told me right away so that we could fix it. He probably wouldn’t have even come to me, he would have found a closer source of help. On the other hand, if it wasn’t serious, why was he here, looking like his world was collapsing?

I’d talked to him three days ago. It was our monthly phone call, a tradition we’d kept going. Everything seemed fine then. He seemed happy enough. They were between cases, keeping their eyes out for something new. They had been in Indiana. Dad and I were in Pennsylvania, so we’d even talked about meeting somewhere in the middle once we finished our hunt. What had happened between then and now?

“If you’re not ready to talk about it, that’s fine,” I assured him even though I felt like I’d go crazy if I didn’t find out what happened. “Just at least tell me that Sam and John are ok.”

He laughed bitterly.

“That depends on how you define ‘ok.’”

My heart skipped a beat. Had I been wrong? Were things more serious than I anticipated? Were Sam and John laid up comatose in a hospital somewhere or something equally bad? I’d never been a big fan of John. I cared for him only because Sam and Dean did. I would mourn his loss only for their sake. But Sam… if something happened to him I didn’t know if I could handle it.

“What happened?” I asked again, a little more demanding this time. Dean seemed to notice the room for the first time, looking around as if searching for something.

“Where’s Ben?” he asked, noticing his absence. 

“Out. Drinking. Dean-” I tried again to get some answers, but he cut me off.

“Rough hunt?” He knew my dad wasn’t usually one to spend the night getting drunk. He only did when things went wrong.

“The guy didn’t make it,” was all I said. “What’s going on?” 

He ignored me again.

“How are you doing?” He asked, avoiding the conversation I was trying to start. Worrying about someone else was Dean’s go-to way of avoiding his own problems.

“I’m fine,” I told him, giving up on my questioning. He would talk when he was ready. He looked me over doubtfully.

“You don’t look fine,” he said.

“Gee, thanks,” I muttered, self consciously trying to smooth down my hair and noting my very wrinkled pajamas. “I see you haven’t lost your ability to flatter the ladies.”

“I just mean you look tired,” he clarified.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when someone knocks on your door at,” I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “3 in the morning and wakes you up,” I deflected. There was no reason for him to know about the nightmare that had been playing on a loop. He couldn’t do anything about it anyway and he clearly had enough on his mind.

“Sorry,” he winced. “I shouldn’t have come. Or at the very least I should have waited until morning.”

“No, don’t apologize,” I quickly backtracked. “You can always come to me when you need to. You know that. It doesn’t matter what time it is.”

He nodded in understanding.

“Seriously, Dean. No matter the time, no matter the reason. I’m always happy to see you,” I told him, wanting to be sure he knew I meant it.

He sighed, ran a hand over his face, and turned to face me, tears shining in his eyes, threatening to spill over.

“Sam’s gone,” he said. “He left us.”

“What?” I gasped out, shocked.

“He’s going to college. Says he’s done with hunting,” he continued. I hugged him, wanting to comfort him and not knowing what else to do. He hugged me back immediately and buried his face in my shoulder.

“I can’t believe he actually did that,” I said, feeling more hurt than I had any right to. I’d barely seen Sam in the last three years. It’s not like he’d abandoned me. Somehow it still felt like he had. And I knew how unbelievably painful this would be for Dean. His appearance and behavior suddenly made sense.

“What do you mean? You knew he was planning this?” Dean asked, pulling away from me, sounding betrayed.

“No!” I assured him. “I mean, he always talked about wanting to go to college, but I thought that’s all it was. Talk. I didn’t know he was ever actually considering it.”

“Well apparently he was. Thanks for the heads up,” he snapped, standing up and starting to pace.

“Dean, I’ve barely talked to him in the last year. How was I supposed to know?” I snapped back. “Plus, you were there for all of our conversations, so you know it’s not like I was secretly planning with him.”

“You’re right,” he sighed, sitting back down. “You couldn’t have known. But he’s never in his whole life said a word to me about college. I didn’t realize that’s something he wanted. Why didn’t you tell me back then?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I figured you knew. Besides, I thought it was just a dream. I didn’t think he’d ever actually go for it,” I explained.

“Looks like neither of us know him as well as we thought we did, then,” he said, putting his head in his hands. I put my hand on his shoulder and rubbed my thumb back and forth.

“Why did he leave already?” I asked. “It’s only May. He just graduated. Literally days ago.”

“From what I could get out of him, he wasn’t planning on sticking around much longer anyway. He just… announced it, out of nowhere. That he was leaving us. And he seemed relieved.” he told me resentfully. He looked up at me then and I moved my hand away.

“I know he’s never loved hunting or the way we were raised. I know he’s always wished we were normal. But how could he leave us like that? How can he care so little about our family that he would tear it apart? Things weren’t perfect, but they weren’t that bad were they?”

“No,” I agreed. “It wasn’t bad.” 

It broke my heart to see Dean hurting this way. I desperately wanted to make it better. But I knew I couldn’t.

“What did your dad say?” I asked. Dean let out another bitter laugh.

“If you think you’ve seen my dad mad before, think again. My ears are still ringing from all the shouting. From both of them.” He paused as if remembering the argument. “He told Sam if he walked out that door he’d better never come back,” he said.

I let out a breath. I didn’t want there to be any more tension between them than there was likely to be already from the fallout with Sam. John would undoubtedly take his anger out on Dean.

“And he was ok with you coming here?” I asked. Dean straightened.

“If he’s got a problem with it, it’s his own damn fault,” he fumed. “He took off as soon as he and Sam were done screaming at each other. I waited for hours, but he never came back and wouldn’t answer my calls. He left me too.

“So I got in the car and just started driving. I didn’t even know where I was going until I was halfway here. I guess I must have known subconsciously where I wanted to go.” He took a deep, uneven breath before continuing. 

“Sometimes I feel like I care about my family more than they care about me. That I need them more than they need me,” he confided. “And it must be true. Otherwise they wouldn’t have left me.”

“Dean, no,” I told him firmly. “Don’t you ever think that. Of course they care about you and of course they need you. I don’t think they realize how much. They’re too stupid and stubborn to see how much they rely on you. Don’t let them make you feel bad about yourself. They don’t see how important you are to them. They don’t see how you’ve held your family together. But you know what I see?” I asked him, making sure he was paying attention.

“I see a man who puts the needs of his family above his own, who has done so his entire life. I see a man who cares so deeply about his family that he’d do anything for them. I see a man whose family really doesn’t deserve him.”

He was looking at me intently, face full of gratitude and pain.

“Don’t leave me,” he pleaded. “I couldn’t bear it if I lost you too.”

“John didn’t leave you,” I told him. This much I knew. John was a grade A ass, but he hadn’t left Dean for good. “He just needs a day or two to calm down. I can’t believe he was selfish enough to not even answer the phone though,” I grumbled.

“Please,” was all he said. My heart broke for him again.

“I would never leave you Dean. Never. I promise. You can stay here with me for as long as you want, and then you’re always welcome to come back. Anytime. You won’t lose me. You can’t lose me. Even if you try,” I told him with a small smile.

He smiled back before collapsing back against the couch.

“I should let you get back to sleep,” he said.

“I’m happy to stay up and talk. Or just hang out,” I told him.

“I know. But I’m actually pretty exhausted myself. I’ve been driving since yesterday afternoon,” he said.

“Okay,” I agreed. “You might as well take my dad’s bed,” I told him. “Who knows when he’ll stumble back in. And he can take the couch.”

“I’m fine on the couch,” he answered, standing up. “I’m just gonna grab my stuff out of the car.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Positive,” he said. He pulled me in for a quick hug and I felt him relax a little. He gently nudged me in the direction of my bed and left the room. 

I sat on the edge of my bed, waiting for him to come back. I relaxed when I didn’t hear the Impala’s engine roar to life. He came back in a minute later with his duffel and a small blanket I remembered being left in the car for nights they slept in there.

I laid down, getting comfortable as I watched Dean take off his layers of jackets and unlacing and taking off his boots. He laid down on the couch and sighed.

“Goodnight Jenna,” I heard him say.

“Goodnight.”

~~~~~

Apparently I wasn’t meant to be getting much sleep tonight. It took about an hour for me to settle down again and I was just on the edge of sleep when my dad stumbled through the door. Thankfully he didn’t wake Dean up – the slow, even breathing I could hear coming from the couch assured me of that – but the disturbance left me once again wide awake. 

I rolled over to look at the clock. 4:30. I sighed and restarted the process of getting to sleep, resigning myself to being very tired in the morning. I would need a lot of coffee.

~~~~~

Despite the rough night I had, I was still the first one up at 8. I wasn’t surprised my dad was still out. After the night he had, he’d probably sleep for at least a couple more hours. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised about Dean either. He’d had an emotionally exhausting couple of days. That took a lot out of a person. Coupled with his twelve hour drive here, he would need as much sleep as he could get.

As quietly as I could, I got dressed, threw my hair into a messy ponytail, and slipped out the door. I walked four blocks to a little coffee shop and bought coffee and donuts for everyone. Drink carrier and plastic bag full of donuts in hand, I slowly made my way back to the motel, enjoying the morning air.

I quietly opened the door and a quick scan of the room confirmed that both men were still sleeping. I set our breakfast on the table and sat down. As I waited for them to wake up, I sipped on my coffee and started a book I’d been wanting to read for a while. I’d barely started the second chapter when I heard Dean moving.

“Hey,” he said in a sleep-roughened voice. I looked over and saw him sitting up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Hey,” I greeted, bookmarking my place. “How’d you sleep?”

“Not bad,” he said as he got up and stretched. “You?”

“Not bad,” I echoed. “I got breakfast,” I told him.

“Aww, thanks sweetheart. You really know how to take care of a guy, don’t you?” He teased, protective humor fully in place this morning.

“Well you’re not particularly difficult to take care of,” I informed him. He laughed and headed to the bathroom. 

I opened the noisy plastic bag and took out one of the donuts while I waited for him. I wasn’t really worried about being quiet now that Dean was up. Drunk as I knew he was last night, I figured Dad would sleep through a bomb going off.

“What did you get?” Dean asked when he emerged from the bathroom and sat across from me. I just pushed the bag in his direction in response, letting him look through the variety of donuts I’d chosen. 

He picked a powdered sugar one, looked me right in the eye, and took a big bite, getting the sugar all over his mouth. I just shook my head in amusement.

“You’re like a three-year-old,” I informed him. 

“Nah. A three-year-old doesn’t know that this stuff,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee, “is where it’s at.”

I chuckled and took another bite of my own donut. We spent the rest of the morning talking, filling in details of things we didn’t have enough time to talk about over a phone call. My dad woke up around 11. I’d ended up drinking his coffee a couple hours ago, needing the caffeine boost and knowing it would be cold by the time he got to it anyway. 

He gave Dean a cursory greeting, not even bothering to ask about the surprise visit. After taking a quick shower, he left to do who knows what. He didn’t give an explanation.

I was still sad about the news Dean had brought last night. I couldn’t imagine how hard he must be trying to cover his pain right now. But I was also happy, so incredibly happy, to have Dean here with me. In the same room. It happened so rarely these days that I never failed to appreciate it in the moment. I secretly dreamed about a day when we could be together every day again.

For now I’d content myself with the time I did get with him. I wondered how long it would be this time.

~~~~~

Turns out, it wasn’t very long. Dean and I had gone out for lunch, reminiscing about some of the sketchy looking places we’d eaten in over the years. We were just getting back to the motel when John called. And he was mad.

From across the room I could hear the angry tone of voice coming through the phone speaker. I could only hear Dean’s side of the conversation, but it was enough to piece together what was going on. John had finally gotten over his fit of anger and come back to the motel to find Dean gone. Dean mostly stood there and took the verbal beating. Only once did he try to defend his actions.

“You left. You just took off. And you wouldn’t answer the phone.”

I couldn’t hear John’s response, but I could take a pretty good guess as to what it was. He would say something about how Dean should have known better than to take off. He should have stayed put and waited for John to get back. Like a dog, sitting at home, waiting for its master’s next command.

Dean’s posture changed, any thoughts about arguing gone. He was back to being that good little soldier, ‘Yes sir,’ or ‘No, sir,’ the only words escaping his mouth.

There were few things in this world that made me as mad as John’s treatment of his eldest son. I wanted to snatch the phone from Dean’s hands and yell at John for throwing a temper tantrum. For abandoning Dean in that heartbreaking moment and leaving him behind, the exact same thing he was mad at Sam for doing to him. I wanted to tell him if he was going to behave like a child and treat Dean like a broken toy, then he didn’t deserve to get him back. 

I didn’t say any of this though. I clenched my hands into fists at my side, gritted my teeth together, and kept my mouth shut. 

Dean hung up the phone and immediately went to grab his bag.

“You’re leaving?” I asked, unwilling to let him go so soon. Not wanting to let him go at all.

“I have to. Dad needs me.”

I scoffed.

“Don’t start with that Jenna,” he said tersely. “You wouldn’t abandon your dad. Why would you expect me to abandon mine?”

“Yeah, well my dad wouldn’t abandon me. Tell me again what John did just a couple days ago.”

“He didn’t abandon me. He just needed to cool off. Like you said. And I’m sorry, but where exactly is your dad right now?” He snapped.

“That’s not even close to the same thing and you know it.”

“How is it any different?” He asked.

“First of all, my dad didn’t just up and leave me behind because he was angry. He’s out trying to deal with what happened last night.”

“And my dad wasn’t trying to deal?” He challenged.

“Your dad left you behind!” I shouted. I was mad at John, not him, but I was also frustrated that he couldn’t see how terribly John treated him.

“My dad would pick up the phone if I called him right now. And he wouldn’t have left at all, except you’re here and he’s trying to give us some time alone.” I told him.

Dean opened the door and stepped into the parking lot, walking around to the trunk of his car.

“Dean, stop.”

“I have to go, Jenna. It doesn’t matter if you don’t agree because it’s not your decision,” he said as he threw his duffel in.

“I know,” I said placatingly. “But can you just stop for a minute?”

He closed the trunk and looked at me expectantly.

“I don’t want to fight,” I told him.

I saw the anger leave him. That quickly. And I realized his anger hadn’t been at me either. He was probably just overwhelmed.

“Neither do I,” he agreed. He sighed and wrapped me in a hug.

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” I said sadly. 

“I know. I’m sorry,” he said, squeezing me once before letting me go. Then I thought about the reason he was even here.

“You want me to drive to Cali and whoop Sam for you?” I asked teasingly, hoping that making it into a joke was the right call. 

“Thanks, but no. All I ever wanted was to protect him. And when we were kids I wished so badly that he could have a normal life. That he didn’t have to be caught up in all this hunting crap.” He smiled ruefully. “Be careful what you wish for, I guess.”

I didn’t know what to say in response. I’d undoubtedly come up with a good reply later and kick myself for not thinking of it now. So I settled for the best thing I could think of.

“Call me when you get there.”

“I will,” he assured me. Then he climbed into the passenger seat and drove away.

Ages 21 and 22 December 29, 2001

Dad and I were currently in Chicago, working a case we suspected to be ghouls. Three different mausoleums had been disturbed in two different cemeteries. Whoever had broken into these places hadn’t stolen any of the valuable items inside, but had opened up the caskets. And then the bodies. And they’d eaten them.

It was late afternoon and we were going over the information we’d gathered over the past few days, working on narrowing down the location these things might be hiding in when I heard the rumble of a familiar engine. My focus, which had been tenuous at best at the anticipation of this moment, flew out the window.

John was taking a few ‘personal days,’ whatever that meant, so Dean was coming to stay with us for a few days. I wished we weren’t working so we could just spend time together, but I was excited to see him either way.

I jumped out of my chair so quickly it would have fallen over if my dad hadn’t caught it. I stood at the door, waiting for him to knock before opening it. I didn’t want to seem too eager or like I’d been watching for his arrival. Which I hadn’t been, despite how much I wanted to. The curtains had remained closed in order to discourage looking out the window and not focusing on the case. It’s not my fault his car was so loud.

The thirty seconds or so it undoubtedly took for him to grab his bag and walk to the door felt like an eternity. Finally, there was a knock. I quickly unlocked the door and threw it open, huge smile on my face as I hugged him.

Dean seemed a little startled at how quickly I threw myself at him – so much for not seeming eager – but didn’t hesitate to hug me back.

“Hey, sweetheart. I missed you too,” he mumbled so only I could hear.

“Alright, give the man some room to breathe,” my dad teased.

I wasn’t even close to ready to be done hugging him. We hadn’t seen each other since the night he told me about Sam going to college, and I missed him so much. Not that that was a feeling I was unfamiliar with, but being away from him was getting harder. I let him go and took a step back, giving him space.

“How’re you doing, son?” My dad asked him, placing an affectionate hand on his shoulder.

“I’m good, Ben. Thanks for letting me crash with you,” Dean said, moving to the couch to set his bag down.

“Of course. We’re always happy to see you,” he assured Dean. “We’re still working on a case right now. You’re welcome to join in if you want, but if you’d rather take a few days off, that’s no problem.”

“I’m happy to help, sir,” Dean said, unsurprisingly. 

“Great!” Dad said, smiling warmly at the younger man. “We’re trying to track down some ghouls. We were just working on figuring out where they might be hiding,” he said, walking to the table. Dean followed.

“So far, we’ve narrowed it down to-” My dad’s phone rang, cutting him off. He fished it out of his pocket.

“Hello?” He answered, business voice in place.

“Where?” He asked. Then, after a brief pause, “I’ll be right there.” 

He put the phone back in his pocket and looked at me and Dean.

“They just found another grave that’s been opened up. I’m going to go check it out. You two keep working here,” he instructed.

“Where was this one at?” I asked.

“Same cemetery as the last one,” he said as he shrugged his coat on.

“So that makes two at each cemetery,” I commented. 

“Right. So let’s get on top of this before there’s another one,” he said, closing the door behind him. I heard his truck’s engine sputter to life, and then it was just me and Dean.

“Which two cemeteries have been hit?” Dean asked, in full hunter mode. I fondly rolled my eyes at him, but answered his question. The sooner we finished this hunt, the sooner we could just relax together. I listed the two cemeteries, pointing to their locations on the map we had rolled out on the table.

“They’re probably hiding out somewhere in between the two,” Dean said.

“Yeah, that was our thought too. We were just working on narrowing down the most likely locations,” I told him. 

Working with Dean was comfortable. We easily fell back into our old rhythm of working together as we analyzed and theorized. When Dad came back an hour later we were feeling pretty confident that we’d found the two most likely places.

“Good work,” he praised when we told him what we’d come up with. ���Let’s go grab something to eat and then we’ll go check them both out.”

“We can go check them out first,” I suggested, wanting to finish this case as soon as possible.

“Food first,” Dad said. “There’s no reason to be hunting on an empty stomach when we’ve got time. Based on their pattern, they won’t hit another grave for a few more days, and they won’t leave their little nest until then.”

We piled into my dad’s little truck, me squished in the middle seat between the two men, and drove to a nearby diner.

We chatted as we ate. Dad mostly listened, letting Dean and me do most of the talking, but joining in every now and then with a comment or question. It was nice. It was the happiest I’d been in a long time. I looked forward to the next few days of this.

~~~~~

We were back at the motel, readying weapons and just about to drive to the first location Dean and I suspected of being their hide out when Dad’s phone rang.

“Hello?” He said. He listened to the voice on the other line, frown growing on his face. “I’m on my way,” he said, hanging up the phone. 

“Change of plans,” he told us. “Jenna, I guess you were right. We shouldn’t have stopped to eat first. That was the groundskeeper at the second cemetery.”

“There was another one?” I asked. “Already?”

“Apparently,” he said, climbing into his truck. “I’m going to go check it out, see if I can catch a trail. You two go check out that abandoned church like we planned. Be careful,” he warned.

“And Dean?” He added, almost as an afterthought. “Take care of my girl.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean answered without hesitation. Satisfied with his response, Dad backed out of the parking lot and drove away. 

Dean put his shotgun in the trunk of his car and I threw mine in alongside it. He closed the trunk and slid into the driver’s seat as I got into the passenger side.

“It’s weird that they’re breaking pattern like this,” Dean mused as we pulled up to the old church. There was a crypt below it. The perfect place for a monster that fed on the dead to hole up.

“Yeah, I thought so too. Let’s just hope that it gives us another lead if neither of these places end up being right,” I said.

We made our way into the crypt, Dean going first. It didn’t take long to realize we were in the right place. The remains of chewed on corpses littered the ground. Coffins that were decades old had been opened to make room for the bones of bodies the ghouls had dragged back here to feed on. I wrinkled my nose at the smell.

We made our way through the place carefully, guns at the ready. In a small room in the back we found three old mattresses laid out beside each other. 

I heard a noise behind me and spun around just in time for one of the ghouls to reach me and knock the gun out of my hand. Before he could do anything more, I punched him in the nose. I used the half second it took him to recover to aim a kick straight at his stomach, sending him stumbling back a few steps.

“Get down!” I heard Dean call from behind me. I dropped to the floor and heard the gunshot behind me. The ghoul went down, head blown to pieces. I quickly grabbed my gun off the floor and stood beside Dean, aiming at the doorway, ready for the other two to come.

“Where are they?” Dean hissed after a couple of minutes. 

“Maybe they haven’t gotten back yet,” I said. 

“What?” he asked, agitated at not knowing where the threat was.

“Maybe the other two went out to the cemetery and this one was left behind to guard the place or something. They might be on their way right now. Maybe we should find some place to hide and wait for them to get back. Ambush them,” I suggested.

Dean considered the idea, weighing our options. Then he stiffened. 

“We need to go. Right now,” he said as he hurried from the room.

“What? Why?” I asked as I followed him.

“Why would they leave one behind to guard the place? They shouldn’t have any reason to worry about someone stumbling in. And even if someone did, they wouldn’t find anything they’d consider suspicious,” he said.

“So they knew we were onto them and left one behind to kill us if we found them. It was a trap,” I concluded, catching onto his thought.

“No Jenna,” Dean said. We made it out of the church and ran for the car. “There’s strength in numbers. Why would they send two out to a place they would be long gone from by the time we heard about them and leave one behind to take on a group of hunters alone? It was a trap. But the trap wasn’t for us.”

“It was for my dad,” I said in horror. We reached the car and Dean had the Impala screeching away the second the doors were closed.

“They found out about you guys somehow, so they dug up another body, probably somewhere they knew it would be found quickly, and then sat back and waited,” he continued piecing things together. He hit the steering wheel in frustration. “I knew something was up when they changed their pattern,” he seethed.

I got my phone out of my pocket and dialed my dad’s number. He didn’t pick up.

“Drive faster,” I urged, the dread I was feeling building.

When we made it to the cemetery we jumped out and split up. Dean had wanted to stay together, but I argued that we’d cover ground faster apart. My dad’s life was in danger, and I wasn’t going to waste time.

I ran through the cemetery, keeping my eyes open for any recently dug up graves – they would be particularly easy to spot with the layer of snow on the ground – or open mausoleums. I was about halfway through when I noticed one of them had a door cracked open. I made my way over as quickly and quietly as I could. 

I probably should have taken my time, assessed the situation and gathered as much information about what I was about to walk into as I could. I should have. But I didn’t. I kicked the door open the rest of the way and took in the details as quickly as I could.

There were two people in the middle of the room, standing over a dead body. It was fresh, partially eaten. It was the cemetery groundskeeper. And his face was staring back at me from one of the two men above him. The ghouls. They both lunged for me. I had my gun already aimed and fired at the closer one. His headless body collapsed to the ground.

“Jenna!” I heard Dean call, alerted by the gunshot.

Realizing he was outnumbered, the third one bolted out of the building. I was about to go after him when I noticed the other person, sitting against the wall across from the dead body. Dad.

“Jenna!” Dean called again when I didn’t answer him. His voice was much closer now.

“I’m fine, Dean!” I yelled back, willing it to be true. Willing my dad to be ok. “Go get him!” 

I rushed over to Dad, gasping at what I saw and choking back tears. 

“Dad!” I cried out. There was a knife in his chest. And he was in a pool of blood, not so much sitting as being held up by the wall.

“Jenna,” he rasped out. I grabbed his arm and put it around my shoulder, trying to help him stand. He gasped in pain and sagged against me. I let him go, not wanting to make things worse.

“It’s ok. It’s going to be ok,” I said through my tears, trying to assure myself more than him. “We’re going to get you out of here. As soon as Dean gets here we’ll get you in the car and to a hospital.”

“Stay with Dean,” he said.

“Dean’s fine. He’ll take care of the last one. I’m not leaving you,” I told him.

“Stay with him,” he repeated, reaching for me. I grabbed his hand. “You’ve been… so sad without him,” he breathed. I could tell talking was difficult for him.

“Shh,” I ordered. “It’s ok.”

“No, listen,” he said. “You shouldn’t have to live… without him. You should… be with your soulmate.” I gasped at his statement.

“You knew?” I asked.

“I’ve suspected for a long time,” he confessed. “Since before you even turned 16. He’s… a good man. And I want you to know… for what it’s worth… that I would be proud to have him… as a son.” There was blood coming out of the corner of his mouth now.

Hurry up Dean! I mentally urged.

“That doesn’t matter,” I told him, trying to get back on track. “We’ll get you help. Everything will go back to normal.” I heard the gunshot then.

“I love you Jenna,” he told me. “Be happy.”

“Dean!” I screamed, and then in a quieter voice, “Dean’s coming now Dad. Just hold on.” His breathing was getting more strained.

Dean came crashing through the door then, gun held at the ready. His eyes zeroed in on us and he lowered his gun, coming to my side.

“Help me get him to the car,” I told him.

“No,” Dad protested.

“I’m not just going to leave you here to die, Ben,” Dean said as he bent to grab him under the shoulders. “Grab his legs,” he instructed me. With the knife buried in Dad’s chest, Dean wasn’t able to swing him over his shoulder.

“Stop!” Dad gritted out, gasping in pain as our attempts to move him jostled the knife.

“What do we do?!” I wailed as we reluctantly set him back down.

“There’s nothing you can do,” Dad breathed out. “Remember… what I told you,” he said to me. “Be happy.” Then he turned to Dean. 

“Take care of my girl,” he said to Dean for the second time tonight. Only this time his meaning was very different.

“I will,” Dean assured him, realizing we were running out of time. I realized too.

“I love you,” I sobbed out as I hugged him as tightly as I could. I felt his hand smoothing over my hair once. Twice. Then it fell to the floor beside him.

~~~~~

I didn’t know how long it had taken him to convince me to leave the cemetery that night. He’d sat with me for a long while before he left to take care of the bodies of the two ghouls. 

“Jenna,” he said gently a few hours later. “I know you don’t want to hear this, and I don’t want to be the one to say it. But we have to get out of here. We have to…”

“We have to burn his body,” I said numbly, finishing his trailed off sentence.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said. I knew he was right though.

Dean carefully carried my dad’s body over to the Impala, laying him on a blanket in the backseat.

“Are you ok to drive?” he asked me. “We’re going to need to get your dad’s truck out of here too.”

“No,” I said.

“Ok, no problem. I’ll take care of it later then,” he assured me.

“No, I mean I don’t want it,” I told him. “We have to burn the body anyway, right?” I asked rhetorically. “So let’s just do it in the truck. That way at least we don’t have to spend the rest of the night building a pyre.”

Dean hesitated a little before answering. 

“Are you sure, Jenna?” 

“I’m sure,” I told him. I didn’t want to keep that truck. I didn’t ever want to see it again. It would just be a constant reminder of what I’d lost tonight.

We drove to an open field a few miles outside the city, Dean in the Impala, me in my dad’s truck. I watched stone-faced, all cried out for now, as Dean transferred Dad’s body from the Impala to the truck and then covered them in gasoline and salt. I watched as he lit the match. And I said goodbye to my dad for the last time.

~~~~~

I’d spent the last three days laying in bed, crying until I couldn’t anymore. Dean stayed with me the whole time, sitting beside me, holding me, his presence a silent comfort. One that I couldn’t appreciate right now. I felt hollow inside.

He did his best to encourage me to eat and drink. I made myself drink a little each day, but I couldn’t eat. 

John called Dean on the fourth day, wanting Dean to meet him in Arizona. Dean told him no. He said he wasn’t going to leave me alone and that John could do the job alone or find someone else to help. It was only the second time I’d ever heard Dean openly defy John. And that’s when I realized how concerned he was. So I decided it was time to move on. 

I started eating again and made an effort to talk and make jokes. He seemed relieved to see me doing better. 

On the fifth day, I told him he needed to go back to John.

“I’m not leaving you alone. I’m going to stay with you as long as you need. Dad will be fine on his own for a while. We’ll meet up with him when you’re ready,” he told me.

“I need some time, Dean. I don’t know how much. But I’m not going to ask you to leave your dad on his own. I’ll go stay with Bobby for a while. I’ll be fine,” I said.

Dean wasn’t thrilled about the idea, but after a little bit of convincing, he finally agreed.

“Let me know if you need anything,” he said when he pulled up at Bobby’s, reluctant to leave me. “I promised your dad I would take care of you. I intend to keep that promise,” he told me.

I just smiled as I grabbed my bag from the back seat. 

“Thanks for everything Dean. I’ll see you later,” I told him. Then I walked to the house, not giving him a chance to answer. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep from crying if I had to watch him drive away.

As I climbed the porch stairs, I remembered my dad’s last words to me. Be happy. Maybe I’d see about meeting up with Dean and John soon. Once I’d had time to process and was ready to start hunting again.

Chapter 7

[babygirlgarrus7]

Scars

Shepard wakes up to bright lights and pain. Garrus sits next to her for days as she slowly begins to function speech and movement.

Warnings: blood, mention of violance, angst, swearing, fluff

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Masterlist

Rewrite the Stars

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Garrus sat next to the white bed that covered his commander, his lover. Machines and tubes running in and out of her, beeping of the heart rate. It was chaos when he first arrived at the hospital they threw her in.

Her mother of course was the first to see her. It took hours before she came out with a sour look on her face. Garrus knew that face, even though Turian and Humans don’t have similar facial structure, they have similar expressions. He seen it when the doctor came to tell his family about his mother’s disease.

Garrus could feel his whole body start to shut down when the words left her mouth about how she still is in critical. How there is still a chance of her not surviving. Liara placed a hand on his shoulder. After all the visits and Admirl Shepard had to go meet with the council, it was just him, the machines, and his Shepard.

He would sleep on the uncomfortable chair, having the nightmares of the Reapers taking over instead of winning. Watching Mila be killed over and over again. Or his family. Garrus couldn’t sleep, let alone, nap. Joker came by about a day ago making sure she wasn’t awake yet, he was going to be gone for a couple of weeks to find his sister.

Garrus laid back as he ate the dexto food that was brought to him by the nurse that takes care of Mila. She was kind enough to ask what he particularly likes. Drink and food wise. He would watch her bathe Mila by putting a rag in a bin full of water and wash around the wounds as another would do the same.

The nurse even taught him how to change bandages (like he has never done them before.) As time went by the more and more hope had left, he felt like the coma would never leave her, that she would stay in this state. He brought her flowers that would eventually die and be thrown out but he would get new ones. So when she would wake up she would see new lively flowers.

It was night at this point, outside were commotion of vehicles taking out the rubble that the war caused. Humans to Salarian a like helping to rebuild London. A large bang echoed throughout the street, startling Garrus. He got up and looked out the window watching a Korgan getting yelled at by a tiny human woman. It was a scene to be unfold.

Garrus watched until he heard a choking gurgling sound. He snapped his over to the noise to see Mila’s eyes frantic and trying to rip the tube from her throat. Garrus ran to her and pressed the button to get the nurses to pile in.

“Shepard it’s alright,” Garrus said trying to soothe her. She was frantically trying to breathe but the tube. He held her hands down. “I know I know they are coming.”

Nurses casually pushed him out so they could get what needed out. He waited and waited until one of the nurses came out. “Mr. Vakarian,” She asked cautiously, he leaned off the wall and nodded. “She is ready for you.”

Without a pause he walked in watching her breathe little heavy. One eye closed shut, as the other piled out. Garrus waited for a moment for Mila to look over. “Vakarian,” Her voice was quiet hoarse, her hand reached out for him. He grabbed it as soon as he reached her, placing it on his lips to give small kisses. “Did we win?”

Garrus chuckled. “Yes Shepard, we won. We kicked ass.”

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Mila was starting to get frustrated, she has been awake for 2 months now. However her motor skills are improving slower than she wanted to. She had therapy that would help her get her to walk better, nurses helping her walk around. Her speech is equivalent to a 5th grader. She knew she could do better but the healing process was having her go backwards.

Her mother would reassure her that it is normal especially from what she has been through. Mila however, doesn’t remember how or even what happened after the small child. She didn’t know either though, if was a dream or it actually happened.

Garrus was always there, no matter what was happening. Which to her knowledge he was always like that. There were even memories or people she had a hard time remembering, she would go with it not wanting the concern to come from anyone. Brain damage works like that, somethings are there and some not.

After the appointment of walking in the water she sat out of breathe. “I’m sick of this,” She mumbled as Garrus handed her a bottle of water. “I do…” She paused trying to make the word, she knew what the word is but her brain froze.

Garrus waited for a moment. “You don’t like it.” He finished quietly looking away knowing she didn’t want him to look at her.

Lately when she had a hard time speaking she would get embarrassed, Garrus could feel it. Mila knew that. “Yeah.” She whispered taking a sip of her water bottle.

They sat there for a moment before Garrus sighed. “I have a spot for you,” He asked standing up to grab the small walker. “Care for an adventure?”

Mila looked at Garrus up and down before smirking. “Breaking me out Vakarian?”

“Well you know,” He helped her place her hands on the sides and grabbed her chin carefully. “Archangel never follows rules.”

Mila chuckled lightly as they walked out of the room, carefully Garrus found a wheelchair to snatch before placing her on. “How much I love to see you waddle Shepard. I think this would be a faster get away car.”

“Good thinking Garrus.” Mila said smiling.

“They should be on break as of now.” Garrus mumbled looking down the hallway. Mila looked up at him arching her brow. “Don’t look at me like that.” He chuckled his mandibles moving from amusement.

Slowly he moved the wheelchair up and checked around corners until it was clear and sprinted down the hall. Shepard giggled placing her hand over her mouth. Both Garrus and Mila started to laugh as the elevator went down.

Once leaving the hospital he wheeled her down a side street. It wasn’t a far walk, for what it was worth, Mila thought that it would be a while but it had to be at most a couple blocks away. Mila looked around, it was sunny today, no clouds in sight. The typical machines and construction happening around them from the war but there was still birds and animals coming out of places.

“I’m…surprised,” Mila paused collecting her words. “There are birds.”

Garrus nodded. “Yeah, they just showed up two days ago.”

Mila sighed as she closed her eyes hearing the sounds around her. She felt a small breeze hit her skin, it felt nice to actually feel fresh air than the air in the hospital. Just being out of there helped.

Mila felt the chair come to a slow halt. “We are here Mi.” Garrus said whispering in her ear.

Mila opened her eyes to be on a small hilltop on a street, it overlooked the sea and a small meadow. It was beautiful. There wasn’t destruction as the other places around. The sun hitting the water just right to make it feel like a painting. She sighed out and smiled up at Garrus, she reached out as he lowered his head so her hand met his cheek.

The scar that he had on the side of his face made her happy every time. Any scars that was on him, she would tell him over and over again how beautiful they were. He hummed, closing his eyes, as Mila swiped over his scar.

“I missed you.” Garrus whispered opening them back up.

Mila smiled. “Me too.”

They both sat there as he rubbed his hands on her thighs, going over the scars she has now.

[elizapreg]

Tale of Alora- Chapter 16: Sowing Seeds

CHAPTER 16: SOWING SEEDS Snapped from his sleepless gaze at the ceiling by some sort of loud banging, Ben walked over to the door to see what the commotion was about.  Alora and Nelia were still sound asleep despite the sun coming through the window. Opening the door, Ben was met with Beth, a hard scowl on her face. As she was about to open her mouth to scold him, Ben motioned at the sleeping girls, stepping out into the hallway and closing the door behind him. “Alright, what's up?” Ben asked dryly, exhausted after the events of the last few days. Beth sighed, leading Ben down the hall to her office.  She closed the door behind him.  Ben peered around, having mostly only met Beth at the front desk.  Her office was fairly well kept, things in neat but numerous piles that looked disorganized but whose contents were likely known to the letter by Beth herself.  On top of each pile and crowding the windowsill were potted plants, one in the corner having grown so tall it looked like it was trying to escape through the ceiling.  Ben tore himself from staring at it by Beth offering him a seat. 

“Well, I’ve spent most of the night dealing with the aftermath of the trial. Seems the town is on your side for the most part, no thanks to Alora’s outburst.” She explained taking a sip of coffee. “There are some who want you gone of course, but we are lucky they are the minority here. I’ve convinced Jandyce it's for the best, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she is still scheming something or other.” Ben scratched his head. “Yeah, yeah, Thanks for that. We are still coming to terms with things ourselves to be honest. Nelia is obviously very broken up about all this.” Beth chuckled nervously “Well regardless, we obviously need to start to prepare. Mac left town this morning to talk with the surrounding cities about lending aid. And he put Vearil in charge while he’s gone… and well, he has already gone a bit overboard on preparations…” “Vearil?” Ben asked, “have I met him?” “Haha, no… no I would assume not. If you had you’d know how annoying this is going to be.” Beth stood and walked to the window. “I’m sure you’ve noticed the handful of western Elves who have made their home here? Though I’m sure given your association with Alora they’ve avoided you for the most part. She’s from The Silver City isn’t she?” Ben nodded. “She doesn’t speak too highly of her home, I honestly assumed all Elves were from there one way or another.” “No, the idiots who run my home are fairly picky about who is allowed to live there.” Aloras voice came, startling Ben enough he was no longer as drowsy. Alora wandered in, leaning against the wall with her hands resting on her bump, her hair a total mess. “After the War, a large fraction of the few surviving elves wanted to help the other races to rebuild. They intermingled and married in and  mixed with the world becoming less pure and, according to the morons with the power, unfit to live in our ancestral home.” Alora explained rolling her eyes. “Old fools.”

Beth took another sip of her coffee. “That’s what I hear. They are a large part of the faction of townsfolk that want you gone. They don’t even care about Nelia’s situation, they resent Alora and her people enough already.” “And this, Vearil?” Ben asked, “I assume he is their leader?” “More or less,” Beth replied “To be totally fair he is probably the best warrior we have besides Mac, so he has done much to earn the town's respect. His band of elves have done much for Delyrim.” Alora gazed out the window as well. “Well I’m no fan of the Elders by any means, I’m sure we can find common ground for now.” She turned back towards the door, “I’ll go get dressed, we can go make our introductions to these West Elves.” 

Ben stood up, reaching out his hand towards Beth and shaking it. “Thanks for the heads up, and we really do owe you for last night.” Beth shrugged, “It gave me an excuse to tell Jandyce off, that’s thanks enough for me.” She chuckled. “Now I have some work to do, I’ll talk to you later.” She adds with a wink. Back in their room, Alora had taken a bath, now getting herself done up as Nelia laid in bed, having finally woken up from one of the best sleeps she ever had. Ben walked back in, taking a seat across the demon girl. “How are you doing this morning?” He asked. “About as good as I could be. I slept pretty well all things considered.” Nelia explained, putting her hands on her bump. “Baby stayed calm enough haha.” “Well that's good.” Ben said. “You know what you could really do to help?” Nelia asked with a smirk. 

“We got you a bunch of jerky already!” Ben retorted. “I know I know, go grab it for me, I don’t wanna get up.” Nelia requested, with a mock pout. “And if it's not too much, could you rub my belly while I have a piece?” Ben raised an eyebrow. “You want a belly rub from me? Why?” Nelia blushed a bit. “Well… it is relaxing…” She said as he handed her the bag of meat. Ben shrugged, “Fine, but just this once. I don’t want to have to do this all the time.” He added,  reaching out and putting a hand on her bare bump, rubbing in small soft circles, his eyes sparing a glance toward the door to the bathroom. Nelia smiled ear to ear, taking a bit of the dried meat. “Now this is the life. Almost makes me forget the dire situation we are in.” She joked. “Speaking of, Alora and I are going to go out and meet up with some of the townsfolk to try and sway them to our side. Do you want to come or do you wanna lay low?” Nelia thought for a moment, “No, I’ll come. I’m sure getting to know some of these people could help hate me at least a little less.” The demon laughed, standing up and pulling on her overalls as her elven friend came out of the other room. “Are you coming along?” Alora asked the demon, who nodded in response.

Standing up and grabbing his staff, Ben led the way. As the trio walked through the streets of the town, most everyone they passed had a sort of somber but determined look on their face. From time to time one would glare or turn away from Nelia, with plenty just staring stunned at the Demon casually walking down the road.  While this chilly reception wasn’t exactly what Nelia was hoping for, and she still wasn’t entirely sure they weren’t going to suddenly cast a net over her, she looked past the brief pangs of fear to enjoy the sunlight.  This time she had her friends with her, after all. The west side of town was a bit different from the rest.  Alora quickly recognized the parts of its structures that were made by elves…yet they weren’t exactly right.  They lacked the silver sheen of her home city, which was understandable, but even beyond that, the usual curved eaves weren’t curved at quite the right angle, and the door frames that usually favored the left side now favored the right.  Ben or Nelia wouldn’t have picked up on it, but these things were done on purpose…to defy the traditions of elven architecture.  Maybe it was meant to be a warning for anyone who knew what to look for.

“Where is everyone?” Alora called out, looking down the alleyways and into shops, seeing some vaguely familiar styles in their windows.  The clothes and furniture they stocked were the same way. Seeing firelight coming from a building on the corner, Alora hurried over and knocked on the door.  “Hello? We are looking for Vearil, is anyone around?” A moment later, the door suddenly swung open, a gust of wind blowing Alora’s hair, smoke billowing out as a large figure, its face shrouded in a blackened metal mask strutted out into the street. Pulling the metal mask up over their soot stained face, Nelia was quick to notice the long ears jutting from under a messy mop of blue hair. “Yo! Are you Vearil?” The demoness called out. “Hahahaha, no… no… he’s out leading a ‘mandatory training mission’ or something like that. I’m his sister!” The elf explained, sticking her gloved hand towards Alora. “My name is Enya! You must be Alora.” A bit shocked at the friendly greeting, Alora reached out and shook Enya’s hand. “Y..Yeah..” “Ahhh yeah! I knew it. Lucky guess.” Enya chuckled, gesturing at Alora’s belly. “Something about you gave it away.  Probably the dress.” Ben couldn’t help but laugh as he walked up to Enya. “Well, It's good to meet you. I was worried you wouldn’t even want to talk to us.”

“Hey, I like talkin!”  Enya laughed.  “You don’t have horns or ears and you’re a guy so that must mean you’re the elf-banger!  Congrats papa you’ve got great taste in-”

“He is NOT an elf-banger!”  Alora erupted.  “He IS a very, VERY bad mage!  This thing in me was the result of a spell so don’t go assuming I-”

“Hey now, that’s my mistake!”  Enya put her gloved hands up.  “That’s a hell of a screw-up though.  How did you get yours?”  Enya eyed Nelia.

Nelia’s ears drooped and her tail wrapped around her legs.  She sighed and opened her mouth.

“Nah nah, I get it,” Enya cut her off, “none of my beeswax, I’m just a gal that likes to hear about all the new stuff that comes my way.  This town’s great but it DOES get a little boring.  Not every day I get to see a trio like you guys.” Enya smirked, waving her hand for the trio to follow her to the shack next to the building. “You’re actually lucky my brother isn’t here, he would be quite cross with me for daring to talk to *that uppity high elf traitor* or something like that.  You’d think after a few decades of me talking to literally everyone, he’d be used to it.” Alora rolled her eyes. “Oh he shouldn’t call me that. I’m not uppity at all.  And I’m not the one that did the betraying either, so he’s got a lot to learn about me.  I bet I hate the elders more than he does.” “It's true! I’ve heard her call them %*@&#, and  @#&$*@)(#@#, and even *()&!#^#!.” Nelia said boldly, Alora blushing bright red. Enya burst out laughing, pounding her strong fist on the table. “HAAHA… Yeah…. Yeah, well even still, he’ll take some convincing, but I don’t buy into all his hate. You seem like a perfectly nice girl.” The leather clad elf leaned over and nodded to Nelia. “You too demon girl!  You’ve got a mouth and you just let it rip, dont’cha? I’m on your side!” “That’s great and all…” Alora said, rubbing her belly a bit impatiently, “but we came here to try and get everyone on the same page about the upcoming attack and all.” Enya nodded, holding a finger up. “Yeah! I can’t help much with Vearil, I don’t rank too high on his list of people he takes advice from, but he does need my skills, so I’ll do what I can in my own way.” Nelia raised an eyebrow. “What kinda skills?” Smirking, Enya rose from her seat, walking over to the side of the room “WEAPONS!” she exclaimed, opening the door to a vast armory.  “I’m the only elven smithy outside the shiny city who studied under one of the masters.” Walking over Ben looked at the weaponry. “Holy… what… Why didn’t Mac tell me about you?” Enya shrugged and pointed at Ben’s staff. “Seems you already got a weapon.” Ben facepalmed, and walked back to his seat, longingly eyeing a sword in the armory that looked cool. “But what about you girls? You’ll probably need some arms?” Alora looked at the blacksmith wide eyed. “You… you can’t be serious…” Nelia, on the other hand, had jumped out of her seat at the thought, running into the armory room. “OOOHHHH, what about this one?” She asked, picking up a large mace from a rack.

“Oh shi-” THUNK!  

Nelia found herself squatting, certain her belly had hit the ground, but fortunately she was able to stop herself before it did.  That mace may have been the only thing that weighed more than her roundness.

“I uh…can’t get back up,”  Nelia blushed, looking over her shoulder.  “Help please?” Enya laughed, walking in and putting her arm over the demon's shoulders, escorting her back to her seat. “Now, now, young woman, why would you use any of those? Those were made for others, what you both need is something made for YOU.” She explained, pointing at the two girls. “Clearly.  Give me a week or so, and I’ll have something real special ready for you both. I already have some ideas from this conversation, and while I’m at it I'll work on softening up my brother.  It was good of you to come, but if he were here, the mouthing-off would have been terrible and annoying.  Don’t come around again for a bit- I’ll send for you when I’ve got something for you one way or the other!” Ben reached out for a handshake, nodding at Enya. “Well we appreciate it. Thanks for hearing us out.” “Yes thank you. We owe you” Alora added. “Hell yeah you do!” Enya replied with a chuckle. “But I’m sure you’ll make it up to me by defending our town. We kinda like it here, you know!  There’s way less snooty ancient people!“ As they made their way back to the inn from Enya’s shop, Alora couldn’t help but laugh. Turning to look at her, Ben asked “What’s… so funny?” Almost doubled over from laughing so hard, Alora reached out, balancing herself on Nelia. “I’m… I’m relieved… hahaha…. I was so worried about coming across as a bitch and being exactly like those idiots back home.” Ben and Nelia looked at each other a bit confused, still just walking along. 

“Really?” Nelia asked.  “I was more worried about them coming across like the bitches back home.  Oh, I mean, back in your home.  Not-” “Well Alora, there’s one thing the elders really hammered into you-” Ben added. Taking a quick step to the right to avoid Alora’s swinging fist. “LET ME FINISH,” He retorted “I’m just trying to say that they really got into your head, if you think you’re anything like them. You shouldn’t keep holding onto the perception they were right about anything. You’ve done nothing but prove them wrong time and time again.  They would never guess you were out here making allies with humans and other elves like we are now.  You’re doing so much better than they thought possible.” Nelia nodded, putting her hand on Alora’s belly. “From what you say, I’ll bet they spend so much time being mad about this that they barely sleep. I’d call that a win. Even now you are screwing them over.” Alora kept chuckling, putting her hand on Nelia’s. “You know? That’s a good point. They ruined enough of my life. It’s only fair that I keep ruining theirs.”

Stopping for some shopping, they picked up a few things for dinner, went back to the inn, and cooked up a nice dinner. Beth joined them and listened as they recounted the meeting with Enya. 

“Well, it's good to know we have at least one of them on our side, and I hate to bring the mood down, but something about this thing is bothering me.” Beth explained sternly as they ate their meal. “What's the problem?” Nelia asked, her mouth full of food. “I didn’t know she was making weapons, and I wonder if Mac didn’t either. We’ve only known about this coming demon invasion since the trial, right? And you said that she had created an armory worth of weapons?” Beth continued. “So why have they been building a stockpile of weapons in secret? What does Vearil know that we don’t?”

[jonesy-and-max]

Jonesy & Max: Opening Day

part 2: Commute

The screen door banged against the house as Jonesy pushed her way out into the world. She was flustered and her face was still warm from her quality family time. She put on her headphones and cranked the volume up on her Walkman. Why did Gina have to turn into such an asshole, she thought. I miss Karl. Not only was her older brother fun to be around and would always stand up for her, but he also put the whole house in a good mood when he was around. Sure, her mom and dad completely ignored her and lavished all their attention on Karl, but it was a nice break from their bullshit. They were so laser focused on him, that she could get away with just about anything. That’s not to say Karl enjoyed the spotlight. He would find any reason to get out of the house and he would charitably bring his sisters in tow. They’d get a burger or go to the movies, sometimes he’d take them to the ice rink and they’d just hang out skating all day, playing in the arcade, and eating cheese fries. It was the only time Gina would become bearable to be around for more than five minutes. I just don’t fucking get it. What the fuck did I ever do to her? She started to feel the familiar sting of tears before taking a deep, cleansing breath and losing herself in the intoxicating vocals of Dolores O'Riordan.

A dirty white van with a navy blue, unpainted door rumbled behind her and slowed down to meet her pace. The window creaked open and from the dark interior smoke drifted into the sky, a raspy voice called to her from within.

“Hey there little girl, you wanna suck on my Blow Pop?”

Startled, Jonesy turned to see the stranger and promptly rolled her eyes. 

“Dickface! You freaked me out for a second!” She smiled and laughed, pulling her headphones down around her neck. She threw a gum wrapper from her pocket at Max, who had an elbow hanging out the window, taking a drag from his cigarette. 

“I really do have candy though,” He stops the van, letting Jonesy jump into the passenger side seat. She took the cigarette from his mouth between two fingers and took a drag, unwrapping a Lemonhead in the process. 

She passed the butt back to Max and put her feet up on the dash, Max glanced at her from the corner of his eye. 

“Hey, Jonesy. You good?”

Jonesy flipped down the mirror, checking her makeup, teeth, and eyebrows in an effort to avoid the question and any eye-contact that might give her away.

“Yeah, Max. Sure. You know, whatever. Just Dad this morning, won’t shut up about college. And of course Gina’s just a massive fucking asshole. So, you know, just another Jones family breakfast.”

“I thought you didn’t care about college.” Max raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t!” She popped the mouthpiece off of her inhaler, revealing it to be a secret pipe. Reaching into her backpack she found the small, ornate change purse that carried her weed, “It’s a waste of time. I fucking hate school, and sports, and all that bullshit. But Dad’s like, ‘I just want you to explore all your options Twizzlebug.” She mocked him with a pretty dead-on Droopy Dog impression, then proceeded to take a long hit from her makeshift bowl.

Max laughed, pointing at Jonesy, “Bwaaaahahahahaha Twizzlebug, you fuckin’ chode.”

“Your mom’s a chode,” Jonesy said through the smoke escaping from her lips, flipped Max off and threw the Lemonhead wrapper at him.

Max chomped at the air, pretending to try and catch the wrapper in his mouth. Smirking at his pal, Max held his pointer finger up. “Ok. Number one: fuck those fuckin’ dildos, dude. Numero dos: You an’ me are forgin’ our own path out in the world! School and shit was never our thing and it fuckin’ sucked dick anyway. Fact-o number-o three-o: Gina has some kind of personality disorder or something, so she can suck a huge fuck. You are the raddest motherfucker alive and she is clearly just jealous of you. And number C: We’ve got all we could ask for: workin’ at Popcorn Video rules ass, we got roofs over our heads, we got a rad as fuck band, and today is a fucking legendary day!!”

“Hell, yeah, dude!” said Jonesy, bright eyed and feeling the vibes again. 

“Chain-Slaughter 6! FOREVER GORE!” They growled in unison. Max punched the ceiling of the van, Jonesy drumming the dashboard with her fists.

No matter how shitty her family made her feel, being with Max just made everything feel right again. 

--

Jonesy and Max had known each other since Kindergarten, more specifically, since recess of Kindergarten. It had only been a couple weeks in, but Max had gained a reputation for being a feral little monster. He was a Tasmanian devil, always dressed in either overalls or a brown jumpsuit, a whirling dervish of destruction and mayhem. They eventually had to make him wear a note that said “I Bite.” It was out on the playground that Jonesy, though not yet “Jonesy,” wearing her Strawberry Shortcake hat and oversized sweater, made her approach. She had watched him, fascinated, since the first day of school. One time she had seen a raccoon eating a half eaten peanut butter and jelly in their garbage can in the middle of the night. She watched it eat that sandwich and scrounge around for more tasty treats for almost an hour. She didn’t know how to express it, but she got the same feeling watching this little boy. That morning she had asked her mom to make her an extra pb&j to take to school, telling her it was for “making a friend.” She took the sandwich from under her sweater and cautiously moved closer to the little boy. He was digging a hole with his hands in an out of sight area on the playground and didn’t want to startle him. She softly said “hello” and took the sandwich from the zip lock baggie. The boy turned and growled, he had one fang-like tooth that only charmed Jonesy more, as she held the pb&j out towards him. He leaned forward to sniff the sandwich, keeping his eyes on the little girl the entire time. He snatched the sandwich and sat in the hole he had made. 

“My name’s-”

“Jones!” He pointed at her. “Jones girl. You live by the lot. I seen you.” His mouth full of sandwich.

He was right, she lived by the vacant lot where kids liked to play baseball, or have fights, or smash stuff, it was kind of a catch all location for unsupervised kid events. She was more surprised he could talk than she was that he knew stuff about her. He hadn’t spoken in class at all except for growls, barks, and an occasional howl.

“Yeah! You’re Max, right?” She watched him eat the sandwich, and couldn’t believe how much he resembled that raccoon. She sat on the ground, “Why’re ya diggin’ a hole?”

“Holes are cool!” He shrugged. He licked the peanut butter and jelly on his hands. He grinned and suddenly planted his sticky hand right in the middle of Jonesy’s face. She fell back and Max’s face turned from mad glee to concern. He knew he did something stupid, again. A little chuckle, and then a full laugh burst from the little girl.

“Eww! Hahaha!” She laughed, a pb&j handprint smack dab in the middle of her face.

Max’s face went from confusion, then spread to a big smile, he smacked his own face with his gooey hands, making Jonesy crack up all over again. The two of them laughed until the teacher noticed them, a feeling of dread came over her.

--

“So, do we have a plan?” Jonesy asked between a couple coughs.

Max smiled and raised an eyebrow in Jonesy’s direction, “Of course we have a plan! When we get out of work we head directly to Snap-Mart, grab supplies, and then jet over to the theater and get in line by five thirty.”

“Five thirty’s a little late…”

“I know I know I know, but we have to stop for food, plus Azrael’s working tonight, so he’ll definitely let us get some beers.”

“Barf, Azrael’s gonna be there?”

“What’s wrong with Azrael? Yeah, I mean, he’s a goth, but we’ve never held that against him.”

“I’m just getting...puppy vibes from him lately.”

“Bwahaha!”

“It’s not funny! Ever since I saved him from that rampaging troll, it’s like a switch got flipped and now I get the gaga eyes every time we hang out with him.” Jonesy flicked her BIC and took a final drag.

“The troll? Oh man, DnD doesn’t get better than that moment, dude. Nah, I get it.”

“Oh, gag!” She coughed out a large cloud in horror.

“I mean, he’s a big fucking nerd, and you’re a bad ass motherfucker. I’m just saying, I’m not surprised. Not to mention you’re a girl that acknowledges his existence. Plus, you know…it’s not like you’ve let anybody else in on your little secret.”

Jonesy punched Max’s arm.

“I’m just saying, it would actually be less of a rejection if you were just like, ‘dude, I like chicks!”

“Good to know! I always forget I can pull that one out of my back pocket whenever I need to get a weird nerd off my back.” She rolled down the window and tapped the refuse out of the pipe, snapping it back on the rest of the inhaler.

“I’m just sayin’ is all!”

Max pulled his van into the parking lot of the strip mall where Popcorn Video resided, taking a spot near the parking lot light across from the store. Jonesy hopped out and spit.

“Max, your van stinks.”

“Yeah, you were just smoking in there, duh-doy.”

“No, dillweed, like you use Eau de Onion as an airfreshner. You’d be lucky if the smell of my bud could eliminate the ghosts of farts past that haunt that shit machine.”

“Uh sorry to shatter your world, muchacho, but you actually stink. You brought it in with you, and you carry it through life.”

“The van stinks because you stink your van up. I don’t sleep in a nest of my crusty undies.”

“Have you smelled you today?”

“Have you taken a whiff of your person today, good sir?”

“No actually I have not, smart-ass.”

“Well, neither have I.”

They both furrowed their brows and considered the moment. Max sniffed his armpits. Jonesy pulled the neck of her shirt forward and sniffed into it.

“...I’m beginning to think, like, we, as a pair? We might not smell great.”

Max raised an eyebrow and nodded, grabbing an air freshener from his glove box and rubbing it on his pits.

Jonesy adjusted the crotch of her acid wash, black skinny jeans, “We’ll circle back to that at a later date.”

Max nodded emptily and rifled through his jacket pocket for the key to the video store.

[orangevtae]

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy [S.Harrington x Henderson!Reader]

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A/N: JUST ONE DAY FOR SEASON 4 TO FINALLY COME OUT! I'm so excited that i don't think i can express it enough my contentment, i plan to stay at least a week long just watching Stranger Things, i sware 😭😭 what about you guys? Thank you for who has been reading Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy so far, i'm finishing writing so i think it will have at least 20 chapters and i plan to write for S3 too and (maybe) S4, so wait for me <3

Chapter 6: Save Me

After spending the whole afternoon getting to Dustin's plan and had fallen asleep, the next day you and Dustin started the first part of your plan that it was take mom to get away from home just so you could get Dart out of the house.

That's why you were pretending to be busy with a toast with strawberry jam while Dustin was in the phone with the made up Mr.McCorkle and you separated a few things that you would need without getting your mom to be suspicious.

"Yes, thank you so much Mr.McCorkle, we gonna be just after her, thank you again" and he "turned off" and returned smiling at your mom "Good news! It looks like she was found wandering around Lache Nora..."

You cutted out the conversation Dustin was having with your mother as you listed all the things you gonna need and do, and you remembered that lost under your bed, you had a beiseball bat, maybe it could be useful if Dart tried to get on you guys and you could defend yourself with it if things got out of control.

"Why don't you go look for her at there and give us news if you find her?"

"Ok, sure, sounds nice"

"We can find her" Dustin said and your mother turned to you

"We can find her mom, don't worry" you smiled at her

"Love you mom!" you said in unison

"We can find her, yes" she said while grabbing what she needed and headed to the door "I love you both!"

She then slammed the door and went to her car, you and Dustin fastly moved to the window and when you saw that she was far enough, car out of sign, you rushed to get everything done, while Dustin was starting to put some "protection", you went to get the beiseball bat and when you got back, Dustin was already dropping some food to make a way to the basement, that it was where you would lock Dart.

When he got back, you were waiting at his door, bat in hand, just so he could unlock it.

You and him were hidding and looking by the little frests the cabin had.

"Ok Dart, Breakfast time! I know you're hungry!" He unlocked his door and opened a little bit and you both made a rush to the small cabin your family had outside of your house, Dustin shouting collectives "shits" as you got into the cabin.

"Do you think his gonna buy it?"

"I don't know, let's keep looking" you said

And just as you said that, Dart rushed out of the house, eating up the trail of food that Dustin had put there for him. But as if on clue that he was being watched, Dart turned it's head fastly on your direction, you and Dustin quickly hiding from his eye sight.

"Shit!" Dustin exclaimed

When you turned to look again, it looked as if Dart got more close to the cabin sensing you guys there, you took a deep breath by how nervous you got and suddenly Dustin just ran outside, startling not only you but Dart itself as Dustin hit him with his rocket ice bat and you fastly behind him, hitting Dart and throwing him on the basement, which Dustin was fast enough to lock him before he runned to the top to get out and hitted it's head on the door, a loud bang sound ressonating "I'm sorry buddy, but you eated my cat"

After you buried Mews and sniffled a little at the loss of your cat, you and Dustin started to clean his room, getting all the shattered glass and you were doing a hard work trying to rub the blood on the carpet that it looked like it didn't wanted to be cleaned by how much you were rubbing, Dustin pacing to one place to another trying to contact someone on the walkie-talkie.

"Come on, let's get everything cleaned up and see if we can reach someone" You said grabbing his shoulder and heading inside to go get everything you would need to clean Dustin's room and make Mews a decent funeral.

"Seriously guys, this is a code red situation! I repeat, a code red situation! Do you copy?" nothing "Guys this is Dustin, again! I have a code-"

"Erica? Erica, is Lucas there? Do you know where he is?"

"Can you please shut up?!" A strident feminine voice was heard on the other side of the line and you exchanged a surprise look with Dustin.

"No, i don't know and i don't care"

"Is he with Mike?" he tried again

"Like i said: don't know, don't care"

"Please if you find him, tell him that it's super important, say to him that i have a code-"

"Code red?" she says mockling

"Yes, a code red, exactly"

"Where you going?"

"Well, i have a code for you, it's called shut-your-mouth! " And the line went off, you sighed loudly and turned to keep scrubing the floor when Dustin suddenly picked up his backpack and put the strap over his shoulder.

"To Mike's house, to see if they there" you nodded

"Be careful alright? I'll be with my walkie-talkie in hands and trying to clean the carpet"

"Okay"

You don't know how much time you lost on the floor to get the blood out but you had quite the progress and when you were satisfied enough, you finally got up and let out a cry because of the pain on your back caused by all your lost afternoon cleaning it.

"Don't come home too late!" You shouted to him after he leaved the bedroom and turned back to try and clean the floor.

You gattered everything up and went to put it on their respectives places and threw the trash out, the chilly air outside the house making you tremble a little and pushing the cardigan you picked up more close to your body, and when you were about to head inside again, you listened a car arriving. It couldn't be your mom, she called a few minutes ago saying that she would still look for Mews a bit more and would be late.

"Oh, hi Y/N" Steve said as he got out of the car

To say that you were surprised and puzzled at the same time to see that the car belonged to Steve Harrington and that Dustin was inside of it with Steve himself, was enough to make you more confused and you went their way "Hey..."

"Hi Steve, what are you doing here?"

"He came to help" Dustin said getting out of the car, Steve following after him and they went to the back of the car, Steve getting his spiked bat

"You told him?!"

"Well, Mike and Lucas weren't there and he had shown up, i really had no other choice" you sighed at this

"Okay then, come on" you let Dustin go first

"Okay, should i really believe him?" Steve whispered to you

"Yes, you should, if it was just him i think it was ok to doubt a little, but i'm here as a witness so, yeah, you should believe it" you said to Steve as you got inside and closed the door

"Are you okay?" he asked after you winced at the pain on your back

He got worried when he took a look at you when you were outside, noticing some scraps on your knees and now you were complaining about your back hurting, he noticed a little of the mess that was on Dustin's room and he could only think of what had happened there that caused to the Henderson's to ask for his help, and he sensed that something was obviously off.

"No, far from that, i'm exhausted and my back hurts, i need to lay down." You then made a bee line right to the back of the house where Dustin was just waiting for you, Steve right behind.

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