#but SPACE road trip??? sign me UP CHIEF

[fightwing]

the best and most valid(tm) uses of found family: 

-road trip (bonus points if there is bickering and fam vibez) -in sync fighting (throwing a weapon to ur bud at exactly the right moment)

[welcometophu]

The Meaning of Home, Chapter 1

The Meaning of Home Chapter 1

Tags for all Welcome to PHU novels will be available at the PHU tag list on Pillowfort. This list is under construction as of Sept. 5, 2021.

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Even knowing that he’ll see him at the end of the trip, it’s strange for Pawel to be driving to his childhood home without Conor in the car. Usually his son would be requesting music changes, playing videos so loud that Pawel could hear them even with Conor’s headphones in place, or generally talking up a storm. Even after cranking the radio up to fill the silence, Pawel feels alone in a way he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.

He can’t blame it entirely on Conor. Yes, as a single father he hasn’t had much, if any, time to himself in the last nine years. But this past academic year has been chaos to the point where it seems strange not to have one of his students in the car as they head off to save the world.

Students, yes, but he’s not that much older than most of them. Some of them are friends as well.

Rest. Take the summer and rest.

The voice in his mind sounds suspiciously like Mac, and he hears Carolyn’s soft, aggravated huff not long after as she adds, Get normal amounts of sleep. Take a shower. Eat real food.

Spend time with your kid, imaginary Mac adds.

Great. He’s back to being that only child who used to have conversations with invisible friends, except now, as an adult, it’s advice about self-care from real people who aren’t even here.

The thing is, they’re not wrong. He knows he has a tendency to focus intently on the one most important thing at hand and tune out everything else. Since fall semester—for the first time in nine years—that wasn’t Conor, and he still feels guilty about that. He feels the kind of guilty that means there are two brand new games for Conor’s handheld system in a bag on the back seat, along with a cooler holding freshly butchered grass-fed bison steaks as a thank you for his father for helping him out.

Pawel exhales.

Maybe he’s having a little trouble letting go of the chaos. In a way, it felt good to be busy. To fix things.

They saved the world.

Nobody knows it, but it happened. And Pawel knows, so he should be satisfied with a job well-done.

The question is: what can he do now?

Rest.

For all that they’re imaginary, the voices of his students are right, and he knows this. It’s just hard to let it all go, to accept that the chaos has ended and he can do that. But he’s clean-shaven, and his hair is neatly trimmed, even if he didn’t go back to his buzz cut. He looks older in the mirror than he remembers being when the school year began. He might even look his age, which would go a long way to gaining respect from incoming freshmen in the fall.

He just needs something to do with himself while on vacation over the summer.

Maybe his old dojang would let him step into a taekwondo class or two while he’s visiting Dad. It’d be nice to be the student rather than the instructor for once.

You couldn’t let go of control that much.

“Shut up.” He says it as if imaginary Mac would even listen.

One song ends, and for a second, the silence in the car echoes before the next song begins.

This isn’t working.

He reaches out to touch the button on his radio dash for the phone, then presses Mac’s number from his contact list.

“Aren’t you with your family?” She starts speaking without bothering to greet him.

He adjusts the volume so that her voice isn’t quite so loud. “Hello to you, too. I’m almost there now. It’s quiet in the car. No Conor. Not even any grouchy almost adults grumbling about saving the world, or muttering about sparring.”

Mac snorts softly. “I’m only a few years younger than you, Pawel. And out of us all, Rory’s probably got the oldest soul. I take it you’re bored?”

“A little,” he admits. “Pels’s family moved into the house on Friday, then left for Burlington. As far as I know, everything’s gone well up there; they weren’t back before I left the house today. Anita’s got my number in case she needs anything for the house while they’re renting it out this summer. Traffic’s been decent, so I’m maybe fifteen minutes from my Dad’s house now, and the silence is killing me. How’s your summer break going?”

There’s a delay before Mac replies, and her voice sounds determinedly cheerful when she does. “It’s a break. I’m thinking about my research, and the fact that my advisor is in Italy until the end of June and told me I can’t work without him there. Which means Mom thought I should come home for a while, and right now things are… awkward… with me and Dad. So. There’s that.”

When Mac says it, Dad means Senator Delwin Palmer. Pawel knows what that meant to Mac as a part of a secret government training program for Talented children, before she came to PHU. He knows that everything they learned about the government involvement in the creation of the soul-destroying Shadows has only made her relationship with her stepfather more difficult.

He makes a small noise. “Are you going back to PHU soon?”

“Mid June, so I’ll be here about three weeks. I’m going to take my brother to the festival when Rory and Thorne are in DC in a couple of weeks, and I’m spending most of my time in the museums and libraries in DC until then.” She exhales. “I’ve thought about going to see my father, but I think that’ll be the weekend that I drive back up to PHU. I’ll just stop in to visit him in the city while he’s got some time off work.” Mac hesitates, her words more forceful when she asks, “How long are you planning on staying with your dad?”

Fine, Pawel will accept the change of topic, changing conversational directions at the same time as he takes the exit into town that will lead to his childhood home.

Sort of. It’s not the same house he grew up in, but it’s close to the same neighborhood.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I’m on leave for the summer. It’s not a sabbatical—they don’t do that for less than a year, and right now they won’t let me go for a whole year until the department has more experienced faculty. But it’s a paid leave and I’m supposedly researching my next book. The thing is, Dad doesn’t have a lot of space since he moved into the retirement community. I’m going to be crashing on his couch. Conor’s got the bed in the guest room.”

“Sounds great for your back.” Mac laughs. “You’ll probably still sleep better than you did for most of the spring.”

“Probably,” Pawel agrees. “I think—” He stops abruptly, because that makes it sound like he has a plan in place. “I’m going to play it by ear. Conor’s made friends there, although he’s clearly missing Alan and home, too. Everyone keeps telling me that I need to just stop trying to fix things and take a break. Including a voice in my head that sounds suspiciously like you.”

“Good to know my voice has infected your brain, like the way I hear yours saying ‘commit to the kick’ whenever I’m sparring and going for that head kick against a much taller opponent,” Mac says dryly.

“They’re all taller than you.” Pawel takes a series of turns, remembering to turn left instead of right at the critical intersection. He slows down; there’s no one else on the road behind him to annoy, and he’s not quite ready to arrive yet.

Mac sputters. “Rude.”

“True.”

“Fine. True,” she agrees. “Taekwondo is a sport for tall people. I’m just a good jumper, and before you say it, no, I’m not teleporting to get there. Most of the time.”

He rolls down the road towards a four-way stop. There’s a sign across the way proclaiming the entrance to Hart Acres. If he turned left, he could make his way to the police station where his dad works, and right would loop him back behind his old neighborhood.

Straight takes him into his dad’s new life in a retirement village where half the people who live there aren’t actually retired. His dad’s been living there for a year, and Pawel’s not sure when he’ll finally step down as Police Chief. He likes his work far too much to give it up.

Dad says it’s easier to keep working when he doesn’t have to worry about the little things like mowing the lawn. Hart Acres takes care of that for him.

Pawel’s pretty sure Dad’s going to work until he has both feet in the grave, and then he might just keep going.

“Hey.” Mac’s voice is low. “Did I lose you?”

Right. He was having a conversation.

“I’m just about there,” Pawel admits. “There’s an old lady walking her fluffy dog down the street. I guess I should hang up. Focus on finding the place and not hitting the two people that are in the middle of the road having a conversation.”

No exaggeration. Now that he’s pulled into Hart Acres and is following the first traffic circle he encounters around to the second exit, there are small knots of people gathered everywhere. Including two smack dab in the middle of one of the side streets.

They see him looking and lift their hands in cheerful synchronized waves.

“I am really not ready to see my dad as the kind of guy who needs to be surrounded by old people looking for a social life,” Pawel mutters. He makes a disgruntled noise when Mac snickers.

He’s in front of the house before he can say anything else.

“Go,” Mac says. “Hug Conor for me, and tell him to work hard. He’s still in school, right?”

“Another three weeks, yeah,” Pawel says. “I might take him out for a day on Friday to head up to Buffalo for Rory and Thorne’s tour, though. It’s a holiday weekend, so maybe the school has the day off—they do weird things with snow days sometimes. Although the weather was strange this winter and they might not have the extra days.”

“Nikki would apologize if you need her to,” Mac says. She’s quiet for a moment. “Hey. You really should take the time to rest. Let your dad be the parent for a little while. Enjoy being home, and with your family. You don’t have anything you need to save right now. The world isn’t ending. Just have fun for the summer.”

“Only if you promise me that you’ll rest, too,” he responds. He wants to say that he understands that it’s not that easy. He understands that talking to Delwin Palmer is going to be complicated, and that putting herself back in that environment only brings the PTSD out in full force. “You can always call me if you need someone to talk to.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m back in the area,” she says. “Maybe we can get together and spar. I’m taking a break from organized classes while I’m home.”

Her old dojang isn’t full of happy memories like Pawel’s is.

“Sure, we can do that.” He catches movement out of the corner of his eye; the door to his father’s unit nudges open. “Conor’s coming out. I need to go.”

“Bye, Pawel. Rest.”

“I will,” he promises.

The music blares for a moment after she hangs up; he turns the key and silences it. He manages to get out of the car as Conor races around it and slams into him, hugging him hard. Pawel wraps his arms around him, and exhales as he feels the familiar crackle of Conor’s magic around him.

“I missed you,” Pawel murmurs. His hand is between Conor’s shoulder-blades, and it feels higher than it used to rest in this same position. “Did you grow in the last two months?”

“An inch since he arrived.” Dad stands on the lawn next to a girl about Conor’s age that Pawel doesn’t recognize. Her mouth is pinched and her brows furrowed. She has her arms crossed tight across her chest as she leans forward, a myriad of braids falling forward across her shoulders and down her back. Dad puts a hand on her shoulder, and she straightens up, shoulders relaxing. “I started a growth door for him here. We’ll need to get a mark on it for you so he can see what he’s aiming for.”

There was a piece of trim in Pawel’s childhood house that had marks for every few months of his age, from toddlerhood to adulthood. He wonders if the new owners painted over the careful notes made in his mother’s hand, and the messier ones his father wrote after she passed away.

“I had Dziadziu put Emma on the door, too.” Conor slips from Pawel’s hold and grabs his hand, dragging him towards Dad and the girl who still watches warily. “This is Emma. She’s in my class, and she’s a Weather Witch, and she’s my friend. We’re both new here. She’s talked to Alan with me.”

“I know they’re married,” Emma says with a heavy sigh and an eyeroll. “Conor’s not my boyfriend. I don’t want a boyfriend.”

“You say that like people have been trying to tell you that you can’t be friends because you’re a boy and a girl.” Pawel stops in front of her and holds out his hand solemnly. “Hello, Emma. I’m Pawel. And don’t worry, I understand that most people are full of shit. Right now my best friend is a girl and I can assure you I have no romantic intentions towards her whatsoever. And if I did, she might kick me in the balls.”

Dad makes a strangled sound.

Emma tilts her head, brow still furrowed. “I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t say that people are full of shit.” She takes his hand and looks at their joined hands in some confusion, then drops it again. “But you’re right. They are. Come on, Conor.”

“I think you’d like Mac,” Conor says as he walks by Emma’s side and they disappear into the house. “She’s small but fierce. She used to be a gymnast and now she kicks ass.”

Pawel should say something, but he did just tell them that people are full of shit, so maybe he can cut him some slack for language this time.

“I did say that someday you’d be lucky enough to have a kid just like you,” Dad observes. “That said, Conor’s been a good kid while he’s been here. Getting good grades, getting his work done. He and Emma bonded straight off—her parents disappeared not long before you did, so they had something in common. Except, of course, you’re back and they’re not. She’s living with a foster family here.”

There are a dozen potential things wrong with everything Dad’s just said. Pawel rolls the thoughts around in his mind as he heads back to his car, opening the doors so that he and Dad can both take several things into the house. “Do they know she’s Talented?” he asks.

“You know where the guest room is.” Dad points through the living room and kitchenette to the small hall beyond. “Right at the end there. Just take Conor’s stuff down. We’ll put your things to the side in the living room for now.”

Conor pops his head out of his room just as Pawel arrives. “What do you mean for now? Aren’t we staying all summer? I thought we’d stay here all summer, Dad. Dziadziu said we could.”

There are times when Pawel wonders what their family looks like from the outside: three generations having three separate conversations in tangled instances, answering questions in random order. He can see where Emma sits on the bed, Conor’s tablet in her hands. She doesn’t seem concerned.

“I’m sleeping on the couch, Conor. We’ll stay in town, but we might need to get a hotel room. I’m going to need a bed eventually,” Pawel points out.

“I’ll move in with Emma. Her dads wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t think they’d even notice,” Emma says dryly. “I like Conor better than Matt.”

“She has four foster siblings,” Conor stage whispers.

Emma looks up, gaze pinning him. “They aren’t my siblings. I’m an only child. We’re all just fosters in the same house, except Nevaeh and Jennie. I think they’re almost as good as adopted. Jennie doesn’t even remember her parents.”

For once, Pawel is the one getting whiplash from the swift turns in conversation.

“Is everyone Talented?” It’s the same question, asked a different way, and this time he throws it out there for anyone to answer. He drops the bag of Conor’s summer clothes on the bed, next to where Emma sits.

“Her dads are both Talented!” Conor bounces up onto the bed, almost knocking the suitcase off. “One’s Clan and one’s—”

“They aren’t my dads,” Emma snaps. She drops Conor’s tablet on the bed and stands up, her body shivering so hard that her braids shake. “My mom and dad are coming back. They aren’t my dads at all. I’m just staying there until—”

“My dad can find them.”

Emma’s mouth is slightly open, her voice a small squeak. “What?”

“My dad is really good at everything about Talented people. He’s an expert.” Conor nods quickly. “He’s so much an expert that he teaches people not to be stupid—uninformed,” he corrects himself, “about what it means to be Talented. He knows everything.”

“Not everything,” Pawel tries to stay, but Conor steamrolls over him.

“He just saved the world, and he’s friends with Clan and with Mages, and we know this entire commune of Mages up in Burlington and if anyone can find your parents, he can,” Conor says firmly. “You’ll do it, Dad, right?”

“I think I’d need a little more information before I can promise that,” Pawel says slowly.

“Your father is supposed to be resting.” Dad stands behind him, and Pawel doesn’t need to turn to know the look Dad gives Conor. He was on the receiving end of that look himself many times as a child. Dad continues, “The last time your father got involved in something, he disappeared and you came here.”

Conor’s mouth snaps shut, lips pressed and his cheeks flushed. “He came back,” he mutters. “He always comes back.”

Emma pats the bed and when Conor sits, she puts her arms around him and holds on. “Maybe mine will come back, just like yours did. Then your dad won’t have to go find them.” Her whisper is too loud to be entirely secret. “I don’t want your dad to disappear again.”

“Me neither,” Conor admits.

“Emma.” 

“Dziadziu!” Conor interrupts him. “Did you ask Emma’s dads—”

“They’re not my dads.”

“—if she can stay over tonight?” The sadness is gone from Conor’s expression as he bounces on the bed. “She’s got stuff in a drawer from the last time she stayed. She can get on the bus with me in the morning, and we can play games with Alan online later.” His gaze skates to Pawel. “If you say it’s okay, of course.”

It’s only been a couple of months, and Conor has somehow built himself a routine here. Pawel isn’t entirely sure how he fits into it.

It’s strange thinking about Conor growing up and growing apart from Pawel when his son is only nine years old.

“I talked to them,” Dad assures them. “But that means sleep tonight. It’s a school night, and I’ll be checking. No magic after dark. No surprise storms. No more rain indoors.”

“That was once!” Conor protests.

“Lights out by half past eight, and I want you asleep by nine,” Dad says in a tone that brooks no argument. “You’ve got plenty of time before then; we haven’t even had dinner yet. You might even be sick of each other by then.”

“Never!” Conor and Emma chorus.

Pawel has to wait for Dad to move before they can both slip out of the room, leaving the door cracked. “I’m glad he’s made friends here,” Pawel says quietly. “He and Alan are—well, I’d almost call them codependent sometimes. I was worried. But they both seem to be doing well.”

“Conor’s fallen on his feet, that’s for sure. He’s a lot like another child I once knew: just starts talking until he finds his spot to fit in. Might even have a bit of a savior complex.”

Pawel gives his father a dark look. “I do not have a savior complex. If I did, I’d have followed you into law enforcement, rather than going into academia.”

Dad smiles. “You’re still saving people. You just go about it in a different way on a daily basis. But it seems to me like you didn’t even hesitate when you found out your students needed your help. You can’t resist a puzzle.”

“Apple didn’t fall far from the tree, I get it,” Pawel mutters. “Fine, fine. We’re all peas in a pod, and a hundred other trite descriptive phrases. The Szczek men have similar traits.”

“Mm.” Dad leads the way outside, so they can retrieve the last few things from Pawel’s car. “Some of us have learned how to ask for help,” he says quietly. “Conor’s made himself at home in Emma’s foster house. He’s spent more than a few nights there, and yes, before you ask, I trust her foster fathers completely. One of them works with me. But that’s something you might want to think about this summer, Pawel.”

Pawel shoulders the backpack with his computer in it, and closes the door to his car. “What’s that, Dad?”

“You don’t have to do everything on your own,” Dad reminds him. “For the summer, you’ve got me. Think about what to do when you get home. The fate of the world doesn’t need to rest on your shoulders alone.”

It seems like everyone’s got something to say about his bad habits. The thing is, Pawel’s got help at home. He’s a single father; he knows he needs assistance sometimes. He’s got Alan’s family next door. Emily’s always willing to help out with Conor. But he’s also got… a lot of responsibility. He’s a professor, and a dean, and he leads Coven and the taekwondo team. 

Who the hell else is he going to rely on? Pawel does the things no one else is available to do.

“Don’t worry, Dad,” he says, because he knows it’s what Dad needs to hear. “I’m not going to overwork myself again. I’ll make sure I’ve got help.”

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[owlswing]

SO I’M A TERRIBLE PERSON...

Hahaha! Guess who dropped off the face of the earth AGAIN? This guy! Well, anyways: Here is my contribution to the 2020 ROTBTD gift exchange! I swore I wouldn’t get on tumblr again until it was finished, but then life went insane.

@siodymph I am so sorry that it’s taken so long, and that this is so short, but I really hope you like it! Your very, VERY late Secret Santa!

Seashells

Rapunzel bit her bottom lip, squinting at her latest painting. It wasn't that she hated it or anything, but it just seemed off. No matter how hard she tried there was just that little nagging thought in the back of her mind slowly driving her insane the longer she looked at it.

"What do you think?" She asked without looking at the others who were standing there with her, staring at the painting with tilted heads.

"Rapunzel... It's white." Jack said.

"But it's not the Right white!" Rapunzel threw her arms up in the air, turning away from the painting so she could pace across her room. "I promised Eugene's dad that I would make the perfect flag for the Moon Kingdom in honor of their reconstruction and the treaty with Corona, but it won't be perfect if I can't even use the right colors!"

"What's the difference? It's white!" Merida questioned, looking between Rapunzel and the painted canvas.

"No! This is cotton white! I need pearl white! The flowers just don't look right without it!" Rapunzel huffed, looking through all of her paints and art supplies to see if by some miracle she still had some hidden somewhere. "Moon Flowers are the designated symbol of the Moon Kingdom, and if this flag is going to fly above their castle for the next few centuries, the least I can do is make it the right shade of white! But of course I don't have anymore and I've already been to three different shops in the city; No one has it!"

"Well, you know how to make all your paints, don't you? Why don't we just get the ingredients and you can make it yourself." Hiccup suggested, and Rapunzel sighed.

"It's not that simple! This paint is made from special seashells found on a specific beach three days away from here. Gothel only ever got them for me once! Okay, well, twice! But the second time is when I asked her to go get them so I could leave the tower and I never actually got the shells so I never got to make the paint! Not to mention to boil it down and make the paint would take at least a full day . Already that's a whole week and we have to leave for the Moon Kingdom in five days!" Rapunzel stressed, part of her brain told her that if she kept biting her lip like that she was going to split it.

"That's an easy fix! With Toothless it should only take a day to get there. We'll spend the night and be back with plenty of time for you to make the paints." Hiccup said, looked over at Toothless who looked up from where he was napping at the foot of Rapunzel's bed upon hearing his name.

"Sweet! Flying Trip!" Jack pumped his fist into the air.

"It has been a while since we went adventuring." Merida grinned.

"I don't know," Rapunzel hesitated. "Normally when we try to do something like this, something happens and then we end up in some kind of trouble. Remember last time? When Hiccup had a cold?"

"It was not my fault!" Merida snapped to attention, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Never again." Jack muttered, shivering.

"I don't remember much from that one, but even if it does take a little longer than it's supposed to, Toothless and I can fly you to the Moon Kingdom to make up for time. Just tell your dad it's super important, I'm sure he'll understand." Hiccup shrugged.

"Or, don't tell him anything and if he comes looking, we stall for as long as we need." Jack offered, leaning against his staff with a playful smirk.

They all looked at each other for a few minutes, considering their options...

~*~*~

"WHOOHOO!" Rapunzel shouted, her hands up in the air as Toothless and Hiccup angled along an air-current, gliding across the sky in a smooth swoop.

Jack popped up next to them, floating along on his staff with his arms behind his head as her reclined backwards. Merida rode on the back of Toothless's saddle, reading the map as best she could while it flapped in the wind.

"We're almost there now!" Merida announced, glancing down below at landmarks and pathways. "There's a town just a few miles from the beach coming up. If we're lucky, they might already have the paint made there."

"We should take a rest. Toothless isn't used to carrying so many people, and it's usually better to go in on foot then to land a dragon in the middle of town." Hiccup reminded them with a wry smile, peering over the Night Fury's shoulder to look for a good landing place.

"Oh, so we're not going to strike fear into the hearts of innocent villagers today. Good to know." Jack chuckled, flipping around and grabbing his staff in one hand to look down at the earth.

"We've never tried to scare people, Jack!" Rapunzel argued.

"Speak for yourself!" He quipped and Hiccup snorted, trying to hold in a laugh. Toothless didn't bother hiding his dragon-chuckle.

"Anyways," Merida cut in, sticking her tongue out at Jack, who was rolling his eyes at her. "There's a forest down there. Plenty of space for Toothless while we go into town!"

"Sounds like a plan. Let's go, bud!" Hiccup grinned patting Toothless's shoulder.

The two moved in sync as they tilted to one side and began their descent towards the earth. Air rushed up around them, and Rapunzel's heart fluttered in her chest at the exhilaration from it all.

Within the hour, Toothless was settled by a nice rock formation that offered him a decent enough hiding place and a small clearing to stretch his limbs while the Four made their way towards the town. The town had a port, so there was more activity than in most with ships sailing in and out, goods coming and going, people traveling. Though it was small and less visited than the larger ports like Corona itself, the town was still thriving and teeming with excitement.

The crossroads before the town had a tall picket with road signs nailed into it. One way led into the town, another path led to the beach, and a third path led out to the pasture land where sheep and cattle with grazing. Right below the picket was a fairly new-looking sign in red paint: Unauthorized Collecting of Seashells is strictly Prohibited! Violators will be Arrested!

"Now what's that about?" Merida demanded, her fists on her hips.

"Looks like we need to come back tonight with Hiccup in a wig." Jack said.

"I am not going to be the distraction! You like being the center of attention so much, you go and do it!" Hiccup grumbled.

"Okay, fine! How about plan B?" Jack asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Plan B only works if we get caught! The whole point of this is to not get caught!" Hiccup exclaimed.

"We are not breaking the law!" Rapunzel told them. "I'm sure it's just regulation to keep people from over-harvesting the seashells. Let's go into town and see if we can find a vendor who knows more."

"Okay, but remember we can always just tell Bunny that some guy in town said the Easter Bunny's a total wuss, and that'll be plenty of distraction!" Jack grinned.

"This is why the Yeti's don't let you go anywhere in the Pole unsupervised." Merida told him as they walked towards the town.

The fast-paced bustle of the town was even more intense when one was right in the middle of it, but Rapunzel had gotten used to crowded environments from living in Corona and exploring the city, and also with her traveling with her friends. Haggling though, was a skill that she just couldn't seem to get the hang of, so when they reached the market and began looking at the different vendors and shops, Rapunzel and Jack took a step back and followed after Merida and Hiccup.

Merida had the attitude of a pauper and, much to her mother's chagrin, had spent a good portion of her childhood haggling with townspeople and sailors whether on her own or alongside her father. Hiccup, by comparison, was simply a Viking. Trading and Haggling was one of many occupational necessities and also something he was especially trained in as future Chief.

Ambling up to the different booths and extracting goods for reasonable prices, or even just information with little trouble, was something the pair had down pat. So it wasn't surprising when fifteen minutes after entering the market district, Merida returned to the group with information on where to find the Seashell vendor.

"Guy was pretty tight-lipped about it, and he said the old hag's a bit crazy, but I told him we've dealt with worse. Anyways, he said she'll be down the road, 'round the corner from the tavern." Merida explained.

"Great! Let's go see her, then!" Jack jumped up from the fountain ledge he and Rapunzel had been seated on, pulling Rapunzel to her feet beside him.

Again the Four were off to their next destination, finding themselves walking deeper into the town. The closer they got to the large storehouses by the docks, the more dreary things became. No one was about on the street, and those who were looked on with watchful, skittish eyes. Rats ran about underfoot and the seagulls perched on lamp posts looked slightly deranged.

"Are we sure this is the place?" Hiccup asked, his eyes moving over to the tavern as a man stumbled out and barfed into the gutter.

"That's what the shop handler said, but it wouldn't be a surprise if he'd lied. He was a bit seedy looking." Merida shrugged.

"Merida! I'm sure he was a very nice man! We haven't even seen the inside yet! I'm sure as soon as we cross through that door, we'll see the Seashell vendor!" Rapunzel smiled confidently, turning towards the door and tapping out a cheery tune with her fist.

The door swung open very slowly with a low creak and they all tilted their heads to see inside the crack the door caused. It was dark inside.

"Well, that's creepy." Hiccup muttered.

"Come on, guys! It's not that bad..." Rapunzel tried, tiptoing closer as she gently poked the door open with her index finger. The door gave a louder creak as it swung open further, and Rapunzel's voice wavered a bit at the sight of more dark shadows. She gave a nervous chuckle. "Okay... Well, I'm sure it'll look better from the inside."

"I'd rather not get jumped in a dark room in the back of an alley today, thank you." Hiccup said, holding his hands up in a defensive gesture.

"I might have to agree with Hicc on this one." Jack glanced between Rapunzel and Merida, looking rather hesitant.

"Oh, honestly!" Merida huffed, stomping passed them and up to the door. "Here, I've got a flare in my bag."

"Why do you have a flare?" Jack wanted to know.

"In case I have to see inside creepy dark rooms, or get lost in the woods, or want to have a party with explosives." Merida said with a smile. "But also my brothers bought some off of a foreign trader last week. I promised not to tell mom as long as they gave me a couple."

"I love your brothers!" Jack grinned.

Merida pulled out the flare and struck it against the stone wall of the building. A bright flame sparked to life and Merida held it up as she and Rapunzel stepped further into the room together. The boys quickly followed in behind, and the Four shuffled forward quietly and slowly. The flare threw strange, flickering shadows across the room, and the four friends pressed closer together as they stared at all of the figures of fanged and clawed creatures.

"Are these... Bears?!" Merida exclaimed.

"What are they made of?" Hiccup asked, squinting at the closest figurine.

There were sculptures, cutouts, carved plank art, toys, moving trinkets, clocks, plant holders, and so much more. Everything had Bears. Small bears, big bears, slim bears, big round bears. There were so many bears made out of little white...

"These are shells." Jack said.

"And this whole thing seems very famil- AHH!" Merida screamed jumping back and slamming into the other three. They all stumbled, and Rapunzel fell against a shelf, rattling everything on it, but the tall sculpture on the very top tipped over and fell to the floor, shattering with a loud clattering of a hundred different shells.

"What is going on in here?!" A new voice shouted. There were two claps, and suddenly the blinds were thrown on the curtains and several candles were lit, filling the whole room into light.

The Four looked up from where they were piled on the ground, finding themselves in the middle of a shop filled to the brim with bear-themed shell-crafts. At the very center of it all, stood a woman that had Merida's jaw dropping open.

"You!" Merida shouted, throwing a finger towards the old woman standing before her.

"Oh! Hello there, dearie! So good to see you again! I hear that spell worked out pretty well for you, hmmm?" The old Bear Witch beamed at her, with her wide eyes that blinked slightly out of sync, the same ragged-looking crow looming on her shoulder.

"YOU?!" All four of the young adventurers shouted, recognizing the old witch almost immediately from their first major calamity of a quest in Scotland.

"What are You doing here?!" Merida demanded, stomping to her feet with her arms stuck straight by her sides and her hands clenched into fists.

"Oh, oh, oh! Well, Dearie, after you bought all of my carvings, I had to set up shop elsewhere! Getting wood out in these parts isn't so easy, though. But they've got plenty of these nifty little shells laying around!" She cackled, gesturing to all her art pieces. "Course I had a bit of trouble getting around those pesky bandits who decided they owned the beach! A few cakes seemed to do the trick just fine!"

She snapped her fingers and several larger pieces flew to the sides, revealing a cage with two bears inside wearing scrappy-looking vests and hats. One of them had a gold tooth. Merida stared at them before looking back at her friends, but they seemed as speechless as her.

"Well, anyways, what can I do you for? A paper weight? A planter box? Oh! How about this lovely little wall piece I finished just the other day!" She beamed, holding up a rather tacky sea-shell image of two bears reaching for one another.

"Oh, hehehe, we, um," Rapunzel coughed a little to clear her throat and then twirled her fingers around each other as she continued. "We just came here to collect some loose shells to make some paint. We thought maybe we would have to speak with the beach owners, but I guess that's not too much of an issue now."

"Oh, not at all dearie! There's a pile in the back! Help yourself! I need to get this cage ready! I've got a circus leader coming to pick these boys up in just a few hours!" The old witch grinned and then let out a shrieking cackle.

She turned and hobbled towards the back of the shop as Merida took a large, decisive step backwards to rejoin her friends.

"Should we do something?" She whispered to them.

"I really don't want to get turned into bears." Hiccup replied.

"But it can't be right to just leave those guys as bears... Is it?" Merida nodded at the two bears that... well, they didn't look unhappy with their forms. One was napping, and the other was licking himself.

"I mean, they're bandits. Let's be honest. If we'd gotten here first, we would've argued over how it's not right for them to claim ownership of the beach, they would've disagreed, then we would've fought them, eventually win and turn them over to the police. They'd spent the better part of the rest of their lives in jail. At least like this they can spend their time in the circus. That sounds pretty fun, right?" Jack offered, his tone wavering back and forth as he tried to make it sound less terrible.

"Jack, that's terrible!" Rapunzel said.

"What? I'm just saying; she gets to enjoy her creepy witch powers, they don't go to jail, we don't get tied up in something that will lead to Another lecture from your parents and North and Eugene. This seems like a win-win situation all around." Jack tried to be reasonable.

"He does have a point! I mean, we generally do good things, but that doesn't mean our moral codes have to be perfect." Hiccup remarked, and Jack nudged Hiccup's arm with a grin.

"That's not funny!" Rapunzel retorted.

"It's a little funny. But you two have definitely spent way too much time with Snotlout and the twins." Merida amended. Rapunzel snorted and turned towards the witch, much to her friends' horror.

"Um, excuse me? Miss... Miss Witch-Carver?" Rapunzel said as politely as possible.

"Yes, dearie? Find something you like?" The witch turned, grinning enthusiastically at the thought a possible sale.

"Ahem, not exactly... I was just wondering; those two aren't going to be like that Forever... Are they?" Rapunzel cringed at the way her voice squeaked even in her own ears, and the witch raised one large eyebrow at her before cackling and waving her off.

"Oh, no! Of course not! This spell is only temporary! The circus leader owes me a pretty penny for a marvelous piece I gave to him two weeks ago. He promised to send the payment, but never did. I'm going to change these two back into blundering buffoons right before show time! That'll show that slimy circus man!" The witch grinned, and Rapunzel's arms hung at her sides. She had no idea how to respond to the old woman.

"So, what I'm hearing is, you already caught the bad guys trying to own the beach and we can go collect our own shells without the risk of becoming bears or being subject to strange witchy-revenge later down the line." Jack stated, looking back at Hiccup and Merida, who both nodded frantically.

"Aren't you a bit worried about what all of them will do after you cause such a big fiasco?" Rapunzel wondered.

"I'm a witch, dearie, not one of them is going to come around here again if they know what's good for them!" She said, whacking the cage bars with a broom to emphasize her point.

Rapunzel opened her mouth to continue, but Merida grabbed her arm and started pulling her out of the small shop as the bears growled and roared while the Witch shouted back at them angrily. Jack held the door open, and Hiccup gave a small wave.

"We'll just be going now. Thanks for all your help." He forced out a grin, but there was a grimace in his tone, and then the four quickly filed out of the shop onto the front porch, letting the door slam shut behind them.

They stood side by side there for a few moments, processing, until Jack finally broke the silence.

"Pretend that never happened?" He suggested.

"Agreed." The others immediately nodded and they hurried back up the street they had come from.

Collecting the shells from the beach and returning to a napping Toothless was a quick and easy affair. They arrived back at the castle with plenty of time for Rapunzel to make her paint and finish the flag for the Moon Kingdom, and she even convinced Eugene to talk his father into extending her invitation to include Jack, Merida, Hiccup, and Toothless. Though, that was only under the agreement that they remain with the group at all times and agree to have Cass and Varian watching them the whole time.

Rapunzel knew it was a bit of a stretch to promise that nothing happen, so she simply agreed that they wouldn't try to cause, or go looking for, any kind of trouble. Jack, Merida, and Hiccup had all agreed with varying degrees of less-than-enthusiastic, but were happy to be attending.

Later that week, when the festivities were coming to an end and Rapunzel had finally found a quiet moment alone with Eugene, he asked about what they'd gotten up to while he was away helping his father.

"I mean, knowing the four of you, I probably shouldn't be asking, but also I'm concerned because I wasn't there and Cass and Varian haven't taken a single one of my warnings seriously because they haven't Seen the sort of stuff you four get into!" Eugene was rambling a bit, and Rapunzel chuckled nervously as she rubbed her arm.

"Well... No one got arrested this time." Rapunzel offered.

"What kind of a response is that?!" Eugene blurted out, fear washing over his face.

"I mean, we may have come across a gang war between a witch and some bandits who tried taking over a small beach town and a circus leader, but we all agreed to walk away before things got weirder!" Rapunzel explained. "I think it was mostly because Hiccup and Jack didn't want to get turned into bears, and you know Merida's had her fair share of bear stories."

"Most people don't have Bear Stories." Eugene informed her with a rather dry look.

"I like to think that we're special." Rapunzel smiled, and Eugene sighed rubbing a hand down his face.

"You most definitely are." Eugene chuckled, smiling back at her. "And I'm going to go with my first instinct of 'I don't want to know'."

"That's probably for the best," Rapunzel said. "It wasn't the most eventful trip we've had anyways."

"Oh, yeah, sounds like it." Eugene agreed easily, and Rapunzel made a face at him for the sarcasm. They both laughed, but were cut off by a loud crashing noise from another room.

"IT WASN'T ME!" Jack's shout came after a few seconds of silence and Eugene sighed heavily, trudging off to find the others with Rapunzel close on his heels.

[jenovahh]

The Honey Pot - Ch. 28 - Sting Operation

The universe must hate you.

To make you see the monstrous form of Varis bear down upon his equally monstrous son, eyes wide as they turn to you in shock. To make you feel the vibrations of the monster's roars as his facility burns and falls around him. To have you hear the sound of Elidibus whisking you away from your love, of dark magic engulfing you, rendering you unable to leap from his arms to let you be buried with him.

Even as you feel Elidibus’ form real and whole and warm against you, you have never felt so cold.

Wondering if there was anything you could have done differently.

Wondering where it all went wrong…

Your heart beats malms a minute in your chest. There was no calming it down it seemed, drumming away furiously to its own beat as you watched Hien’s mercenaries shuffle around Cid’s compound as if they’ve been here before. Armed to the teeth, they were obviously top of the line, trained in the Doman art of the ninja, not one bit of skin exposed saved for openings in their helms to see through.

In truth, you couldn’t help but feel a little out of place. Watching everyone suit up definitely gave you feelings of nostalgia, of being in the academy each morning, baby faced and ready to take on the world. Even though there were a handful of them given that this was to be a small and hopefully quiet operation, you were no less impressed by the obvious skill that rolled off them in waves.

You couldn’t help but wonder at why you weren’t getting suited up with them, granted you had never needed any special armor. Maybe they thought you didn’t really need to, given that you proved nearly invincible against the average man.

Dressed from head to toe in black, you've forgone your usual pantsuit for something a bit more ergonomic. Black leggings engineered by Ironworks, the material has metal fibers woven within, making it hard to rip or tear. Your long sleeved shirt is made of a similar material, rounding out your entirely practical look. Deciding to pack light, your toolbelt only has a small handgun sitting in its holster.

Weaving through the busy space, you step into the connecting room where Cid sits before a wall of screens, several birds eye shots of the Aetherochemical Research Facility lined up as his hands type furiously at the keyboard. Merlwyb stands at his back with her arm resting upon the back of his chair, looking at the monitors with great interest. “We’re positive that Varis is holed up in there, right now?” She asks, fist clenching and unclenching in a show of nerves.

“For the last time, Merlwyb, yes.” Cid sounds as if he barely restrained himself from groaning, still typing at keys. “I have confirmed that he has not left the facility since exactly 21:08 this evening and shows no signs of leaving any time soon. Though I must warn you, Ilberd arrived at about 21:30. I assume they are meeting for whatever reason as the election nears.” he grumbles, dropping his focus for a moment. Swiveling in his chair, he faces the two of you, clearly worried, but ready for the fight to come.

“I will be supporting you with as much intel as possible.” Looking to Merlwyb, he continues, “As we already discussed, I’ve already got it set up to record anything your body suit sees to store back here at the base for us to compile for evidence later. This goes for all of Yugiri’s men as well.” Looking to you, he cannot hide his concern. “Honey…”

“Cid, don’t even think of trying to dissuade me.” You warn, trying your hardest to not give into his distressed expression.

“I know, it’s just,” he growls in frustration, “Are you sure you want to do this? You’re pregnant for Nymeia’s sake--”

“I will avoid combat, as promised. I’m only there to start the shut down sequence, and get out. It should be an easy job now that you’ve figured out where the base is right?” You urge, trying to change the subject.

He sees right through you, but takes your bait anyway. “Yes. With Zenos pinpointing the exact location, it took some overnight crunching, but I was able to work past Varis’ walls and get a rough map of the place using my own seismic sensors. It’s downloaded onto your phone.” Running a hand through his hair, you watch as he stands to his feet and yanks you into a fierce hug, his biceps flexing with the force of how he crushes himself to you.

“Please come back.” he whispers, just for you. In it you can hear the fear of losing another loved one.

You hold him just as tight.

“You know I will.”

Giving one last squeeze, he briskly wipes at tears in the corners of his eyes before sitting back down in his chair. “Best to get started. We don’t want him to get away from us.”

Nodding, you and Merlwyb leave Cid to begin overseeing the logistics of the operation, heading back into the room where all of the ninja are seemingly ready to go. A small auri woman leads them, Yugiri you remember, giving a slight bow to Merlwyb as the two of you come to a stop before her. “We are ready to leave when you are, Chief Merlwyb.”

“Lord Hien is in hiding?” Merlwyb asks, reaching for her pistol, Annihilator, and putting it in her holster.

“Indeed he is. Already we have noticed that what spies Varis uses to keep monitor our lord have begun to realize they cannot find him. No doubt they will let Varis know he has disappeared.” Yugiri continues as she brings her own mask over her face. Nodding, Merlwyb gives one last look around the room, taking a steadying breath.

“Then we move.”

The night only gets darker, and to your luck it is also cloudy. It’s a little uncomfortable due to how muggy it feels outside, summer in full swing and not helping with the humidity at all.

The cars you had taken had been left a great distance away from the facility, the rest of the trip spent trekking on foot, doing your best to not draw any unnecessary attention to yourselves. With Cid’s technology, you remained as cloaked as the facility itself once did.

The ninja didn’t make a single sound as they moved through the forest. Not a single twig breaking, or accidentally having a branch snagged on their clothes. You felt like an amateur in their presence, especially when you finally reached the outside of the compound.

Yugiri uses a series of symbols to dispatch her men, all of them seeming to fade into mist as they disappeared into the shadows. You had heard of Doman legends of the art of the ninja, thinking them only myth and fairy tales, but had no idea it was an art that was still passed down. Granted, after being a literal descendant of ancient beings, you supposed there was nothing that was impossible.

The sounds of the ninjas taking out the guards is silent as they come, not even hearing the guards’ bodies collapse to the ground. Just faintly do you make out the ninja carrying them deeper into the forest surrounding the facility, Yugiri able to communicate orders with nothing more than her hands. You couldn’t deny that you felt in awe at seeing them work, even as Yugiri seemed to materialize beside you.

“The guards around the outer perimeter have been disposed of.” She informs you and Merlwyb, who nods sharply before turning her gaze to the front gate where the remaining security check stands.

“So far, so good.” Merlwyb breathes, losing some of her tension. “Are your men prepared?” She asks, reaching for the gun in her holster.

“More than ready, Chief Bloefhiswyn.” Yugiri responds, vanishing into shadow.

“And you, rookie. Are you ready?” she asks, giving you one last look, almost as if she is hoping you’ll be ready to back out.

“I was born ready, Chief.” you nod, anticipation coursing through your veins. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

With that the ninja quickly take out the security at the main gate, doing away with the guards and taking them to be hidden with the others. As you run toward the entrance, you hear Cid’s voice crackle in your ear piece that he’s got control of the cameras, and to any security inside, nothing looks out of place.

The gate rolls open along the rocky gravel, allowing you and Merlwyb to make a run for it as you are joined by Yugiri and her ninja. Reaching inside your shirt, you begin to pull out the card Zenos had given you, praying that Varis was a little too caught up in his campaign mess to remember to deactivate it. You had no clue if Zenos had tried to speak to his father at all since he had rescued you, or how Varis took his son’s betrayal for that matter. Whispering a silent prayer, you nearly slam the card against the security device against the door, your heart beat stilling in the split second it takes for the device to scan.

A small chirp sounds along with the clicking of the lock. It works.

Breathing an audible sigh of relief, you wrench the door open, once again thankful that Varis really believed a little too much in his own hype. Varis most likely bet on his son not having the gall to try and take him down, and perhaps thought you would want to keep yourself off the front lines.

But there was no way you would not take that asshole down yourself.

The ninja quickly silence the guards at the booth, undoing the lock that opens the door that leads into the facility. You all shuffle inside, whipping out your phone to take a look at your maps. “Cid, we’re inside.”

“Good, good. I’ve got eyes on you all still. They still haven’t noticed you all yet.” comes his voice through your earpiece. “If you can get to the control room, I can get a more detailed map to get a look at every room in the facility. I only have scans from underground sensors I used, but getting access to the mainframe will allow me more detail.” Even through the earpiece you can hear him typing away at the keyboard. “I’ll take control of each camera as you pass by as not to arouse suspicion. From my scans, my guess is the control room for these vats might be nearly two floors down from the main entrance.”

“Thanks, Cid. We’ll keep you posted.” Looking to the rest of the team, you make sure they heard the same thing as you and begin your journey to find the control room. On the surface, the facility does seem to only be two floors deep, and from your one trip here that was all you got to see. As you snuck along the perimeter you could sure enough see cameras blink on and off as you dove past them, Cid keeping you out of sight just long enough to try and make your way to the control room. There were thankfully few guards or even employees around, most likely having gone home for the day leaving only the overnight crew.

Reaching a pair of double doors against the far wall, you press your keycard up to the security device, happy as it still seems to work and allows you all inside. Yugiri quickly silences the two employees working within, two quick chops to the neck knocking them unconscious. Heading over to the array of buttons you pull out a small disc-like object from your pocket, slamming it onto the control board, watching as small, robotic legs sprout from its sides, embedding itself into the board. The Ironworks logo flashes on its top, and you can hear Cid’s laugh in your ear. “Excellent work, Honey. I’m in.”

The relief in the room is palpable, even as Yugiri is shoving the two guards into a broom closet. “Give me a few minutes to find you guys the fastest route to where you need to go.”

“Thanks Cid, just keep us posted,”

Yugiri’s eyes widen as she turns toward the door. “Someone comes this way!”

Just then the doors fly open, the sound of guns cocking freezing you in place. “One traitor helping another...why should I be surprised?”

Turning around, the small high is broken as you turn to the door, finding Livia and Rhitahtyn blocking the way. Dressed in their usual suits, they look upon you scornfully as they point their guns directly at you. “I knew I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.” Livia hisses, her flaming red hair neatly pulled into a bun.

Scoffing, you can’t help but laugh. “Kill me? Wasn’t it Zenos who told you that you didn’t have hopes of beating me, even on your best day?”

Livia’s face twists angrily as she hisses. “I wouldn’t have had to do it honorably. I could’ve easily stabbed you in your sleep.”

Your own face shifts into an angry snarl while you try not to make any sudden moves as you turn to face her fully. “Not surprised a Garlean bitch couldn’t beat me in a fair fight.” You spit back, flexing your knuckles. You were hoping things didn’t have to get dirty. You promised you’d avoid conflict if at all possible. “Listen. I don’t know what you came here hoping to do. I’m guessing you saw us sneak our way in here when we weren’t looking. I know you two have got your heads pretty far up Varis’ ass, but surely even you can see that murdering innocent civilians to help his campaign trail is going too far.”

Both of their faces pinch in confusion, causing you to look back at them in shock. Stupefied, you can’t help but ask them, “...he didn’t tell you?”

“What on earth are you talking about you little liar?” Livia hisses, cocking her gun. “Lord Varis would not murder civilians! It was a failed assassination attempt on Lord Hien by another gang! He couldn’t uphold security at his own rally and got the chief of police killed for it!”

Your guard lowers at the sheer absurdity of the situation. “Are you really going to believe such a fucking, blatant lie?” You nearly shriek, glancing at both of them in disbelief. “Varis slaughtered innocent civilians! Blew up part of a district just so he could smear Lord Hien’s name! There were women and children there!”

“My lord would do no such thing!” Rhitahtyn bellows, reaching for his own gun. “We have no reason to listen to the lies of a traitor, the one who turned even my lord’s own son against him.”

“I didn’t do anything to Zenos. As you can see, he’s not even here!” You genuinely couldn’t believe what you were hearing. At this point if Varis somehow revealed to you that he had secretly hypnotized half of his closest staff, you’d believe him. There was no way that two of his favorite bodyguards were this ignorant of his wrong doings.

Or was Varis worried that even he couldn’t manipulate their moral compass?

You think back to the look on Gaius’ face when he had burst in when Varis was about to force himself on you. From what you knew of Gaius, no one believed in Varis more than he. He genuinely believed that everything Varis was doing was for the better of Kugane.

But even you could see the disbelief on his face when he saw your tear stained face, body pinned beneath Varis. You knew he had heard your screams from down the hall. You could remember the hesitation, the doubt on his face as he saw the true side of his lord, even as he barked orders at him to take you away.

Varis had not gotten away with things as long as he had solely because he was smart.

He was a master manipulator.

And when you refused to be manipulated by his schemes, he forced his will upon you.

“He’s using you.” You laugh bitterly. “He’s using you two. Can’t you see that? Do you really think this is all so he can make Kugane better? Do you really think he’s got any special plans for you? That you’re not disposable to him just like the rest?”

Hesitation shines in their eyes for just a moment, the two of them looking to each other momentarily. Facing you once again, you watch as Livia slowly lowers her gun, letting you release a breath you hadn’t known you were holding.

You think she’s ready to listen until she reaches for her phone, yelling into its speaker. “Intruders! Intruders! Lock down the facility! Alert Lord Varis!”

The fluorescent lights turn a deathly red as alarms blare throughout the whole facility. You can hear doors slamming shut from outside of the control room, the shuffling of feet as surely more security guards are being summoned. Merlwyb curses under her breath behind you, and you fix Livia with a piercing glare. “You idiot.” you seethe, raising your fists to fight.

Just as Livia raises her gun ready to fire, two of Yugiri’s ninjas pounce on her and Rhitahtyn, the two of them barely able to fend them off as they burst through the doors back onto the factory floor. Panic ensues as the lights continue to flash, biting down harshly on your lip as you follow everyone back out the control room.

“Whole place is going on lock down, Honey--” Cid’s voice crackles in your ear, “We’re gonna have to pray that Zenos’ card still works even in lockdown. It’ll take me some time to begin decrypting the code to get access to the facility again.”

“We’ll find a way, Cid.” Merlwyb pipes up, loading her gun as she grabs you by the hand. More security guards burst through the doors, guns raised. Yugiri is on them in a heartbeat, knives drawn as she takes them out one by one while her own ninja deal with Livia and Rhitahtyn. The entire scene is chaotic as Merlwyb fires with the accuracy that landed gave her gun its name.

Disoriented, you barely get to get both feet on the ground long enough as Merlwyb forcibly drags you along. “Chief,”

“No confrontation out of you, remember?” She growls, pushing through an opening through the fighting to a door that leads to the lower levels of the facility. “You made a promise and I’m making sure you’re keeping it. You understand me?” Tugging on the card roughly even though it’s still looped on the chain around your neck, she gets you close enough to unlock the door and shove you through, making sure it slams shut behind you.

“But Yugiri,”

“Is a trained killer, if you haven’t noticed. She understands her role and we have ours to play.” She urges, tugging you along. “Cid, we’re in trouble.”

“I can see that.”

“Got any quick routes down to the bottom of this dump?!” You both duck as you hear gunshots whizz past your heads, breaking into a run as you run down the hall a little faster.

“I’m trying, I’m trying--” his voice sounds as panicked as you feel. “Make a left. You’ll need the keycard again, but there should be a spiral stairwell. It goes down nearly fifteen floors, but if you’ve got some decent balance, you may be able to gain some ground if you slide down the rails.”

“Roger.”

Following his instructions, you make an immediate left, your keycard ready this time as you quickly press it to the device and Merlwyb uses her weight to push the door open, releasing your hand as she once again puts her gun away. “I’m not fond of heights but we need to gain some ground.” She grumbles, swinging one long leg over the rail. “How on earth did they see us? Shouldn’t they have been guarding Varis?”

“No...I’m so stupid.” you mumble, following suit as you swing one leg over the rail, lying on your front and clutching the rail with both hands. “Cid had said Ilberd had arrived at the facility, and Varis trusts Ilberd enough to protect him. They were probably in another part of the upper levels.”

“Pretty sloppy of us,” Merlwyb sighs, but says nothing else.You watch as she finally lets gravity take hold, controlling her descent as best as possible right as the door you had come through bursts open. Wasting no more time you loosen your grip and begin to slide down the rail, wincing as more bullets fly haphazardly past you. Reaching for your own gun, you fire a few rounds back at the guards to help deter them from following you down the stairwell.

“Honey, watch out!”

Before you can turn to Merlwyb, she’s already tossed a live grenade back up the stairwell, the Ironworks logo shining brightly as it clinks upon landing above you. Loosening your grip more, you hasten your descent just as it detonates, cutting off the pursuit of the guards if only for a little while.

Your hands burn from how fast you’re moving, but you’re putting distance between you and your assailants just as you hoped. While outwardly you seem as calm as can be, your heart is thumping in your chest as if it’s trying to free itself from its cage. As usual, thinking on your feet has never been your strong suit and with so much at stake, you can’t help but feel like the walls are closing in on you bit by bit.

“You should slow down, you’ll reach a safe floor soon.” Cid calls in your ear, so you start to slow your descent as the facility grows noticeably cooler now that you’re deeper underground. You have no idea how you’re going to get out of here when you’re several malms below sea level, but even if you’re buried alive, it’ll have been from doing the right thing.

Hands stinging, you and Merlwyb dismount from your makeshift elevator, stepping quietly to the door. She peeks through the single window carefully, checking the hallway to see if the coast is clear. “You’ve still got about two more floors to go down before you reach the main reactor. That’s what Zenos must’ve been talking about. It’s powering the whole facility off aether itself.” Cid speaks again, not sounding any less clearer despite how far underground you are. “If you can turn them off, look at them long enough for me to get some pictures, you guys can get out of there. It seems like the guards haven’t pegged your location yet. There’s a hidden elevator that will take you straight back to the top. Get in, and get out of there.”

Nodding to one another, Merlwyb quietly pushes the door open, gun drawn as she checks both sides of the hallway for any would-be guards. Seeing no one, she motions for you to follow and you stick close behind her, heels clacking against the metal floors as you run past several doors. The halls are cold and unfeeling, and you idly wonder if this was the same place where Zenos was experimented on. If this is where you were held before he came to rescue you.

All the doors are bolted shut, but you have no time to peek inside anyway. Zenos’ words of the horrors of his father’s experiments haunt you, stilling your hand from thinking to unlock one of them for fear of what you might find inside.

“Look, another stairwell.” Merlwyb calls, pressing up against the wall as she checks the corners, once again motioning for you to follow her lead. “We’re almost there, Honey. We’re about to have the bust of the century.”

Racing down the stairs, energy seems to hit you square in the chest, the feel of something otherworldly setting your hairs on edge as the stairwell begins to open wide. Merlwyb seems otherwise unaffected, but you know you’re not crazy.

At the bottom lies a single closed door, bright light cutting through the otherwise dark and dank facility. The air goes from cool to warm in seconds, and the sound of many machines whirring and spinning reach your ears. Swallowing, you hold up the card to the door, relieved as it chirps once more, granting you entrance to the next room.

The energy in the air feels as if it smacks you in the chest, surrounding your very being. A giant reactor that looks as if it were out of a Sci-Fi movie shines brightly with glowing, blue aether, spinning and churning with enough force to be a heat source unto itself. Another walkway surrounds the perimeter, with stairs leading to the floor of the reactor. It all looks so very surreal, that you and Merlwyb can do nothing but stare in awe for a few moments.

“Are you seeing this, Cid?” Merlwyb finally asks, beginning to take steps around the walkway.

“Crystal fucking clear.” He chimes in, resent coating his voice. “My father’s research, powering this hellhole. What I would give to see it burn to the ground.”

You silently examine the swirling aether, something deep within you calling to the mass of energy you see before you. Something about the sight fills you with a deep sadness, of a loss you know you have yet to experience, but feel all the same. Almost against your will, you begin to make your way to the closest staircase, feet carrying you to the mass of energy. Your very soul feels drawn to it, disturbed by how you feel a turbulence within, matching the chaotic flow of aether within the reactor.

Free us…

Gasping, you clap a hand over your mouth as tears spring to your eyes.

“Honey! Get down!”

Turning around, you just barely miss a bullet meant for you, spotting a familiar face by the doorway you had come in. Your eyes narrow into slits as they land on Ilberd, smirking as if he’s got you right where he wants you. “Honey...strange seein’ ya here.” he laughs with a sleazy grin, cocking the gun to load another shot. “Thought to save Lord Varis the trouble of findin’ ya, eh? Awfully considerate of ya.”

“You wouldn’t mind telling me where the old bastard is, would you? I’ve got a bone to pick wit’ him.” You taunt back, turning to slowly face him.

“He’s occupied with other business at the moment,” Ilberd growls, aiming the gun directly for your heart. “Told me to come get you under control so he and you could have a nice chat later.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Merlwyb move the slightest bit. “I’m afraid I can’t stay too long.” you huff, making sure to hold his attention. Flipping your hair, you cross your arms across your chest you can see him become visibly angrier at how you’re not intimidated by him at all, which is all the distraction you need.

Quick as a whip, Merlwyb fires a round at Ilberd, managing to hit him square in the shoulder. His gun misfires near your feet and you spring into action, quickly climbing back up to the main level of the walkway and catching up with Merlwyb.

“The elevator is just around the bend of the walkway on the wall. Hurry!” Cid yells, in your ear, your legs carrying you as fast as possible along the path. You duck as another shot barely misses you and Merlwyb, Ilberd growling far behind you as the two of you round the bend. Drawing your own gun you fire a few rounds back at him to try and slow him down. You can see the doors housing the elevator straight ahead, yanking the card from your neck ready to throw it at the security device ahead of time if it means the doors will open sooner.

“Get back here!” Ilberd roars behind you, firing another shot.

“Honey, hurry!” Merlwyb yells as you skid to a stop, slamming the card against the security device. The elevator slides open and Merlwyb rushes inside.

Free us…

Before you can enter, you find yourself looking back to that reactor of swirling energy, unable to resist the pull of the aether before you. Of whatever is in there crying out to you for salvation.

Turning to Merlwyb, you purse your lips and step from the elevator.

“Honey?”

Reaching inside, you quickly hit the button that will send her to the top floor.

“Honey!” Giving her one good shove to throw her off balance, you keep her from dragging you back in with her, giving her a grim smile as the doors close.

“See you top side, Chief.” you wave, listening for the elevator to begin its ascent back toward the surface. You take your earpiece out before her or Cid can begin to scream in your ear. Dropping it to the floor, you crush it beneath your heel, turning to face Ilberd as he finally catches up with you, gun still raised.

“Goin’ the noble route, eh? Or have ya changed yer mind about seein’ Lord Varis?” Ilberd questions, gun still in hand.

“I’m staying behind to burn this place to the ground.” Gesturing to the reactor, you let your rage fill you. “As soon as I walked in here, I felt such sorrow. I felt so incredibly disturbed. I could hear people crying out to me,” you nearly choke up, but press forward. “I can feel them. The souls of all those experimented on...of the ancient that gave birth to Zenos. Their souls are not at peace, and neither will mine be if I don’t set this place on fire!”

“Hearin’ voices?” Ilberd balks, edging into a chuckle. “Goin’ mad, huh? I swear you descendants--” he’s not even given the chance to finish the sentence as you deck him in the face, sending him skidding across the walkway. You throw yourself atop him, wrenching his gun from his hand and tossing it elsewhere to where he won’t find it any time soon. “Get off me you bitch!”

“Not until you pay for killing Raubahn!” You snap, socking him in the jaw one more time before he manages to throw you off him, your back slamming into the rails of the walkway. Your own gun flies from your hand from the force of your fall, slipping out of sight. Grunting, you quickly get your feet to dodge his kick for your head, bringing your fists up to guard as he begins to fight.

Ilberd was clearly trained, giving you very few openings to land another hit. With the walkway being narrow, it left you little room to try and get a different angle on him, adding to your mounting frustration. While he was not as big as Zenos, he was still bulky, but made up for it by being insanely quick.

“I don’t have time to do this forever, little girl.” He seethes, throwing another punch toward your head but you block him easily enough. “Shoulda killed you when I had the chance. You still owe me quite a few men.”

Brows furrowed in confusion, you find yourself too curious to ignore his bait. “What are you talking about?”

“You tellin’ me you don’t remember years ago, how you murdered a ton of men in cold blood?” He asks incredulously. “We got wind of a lil’ ancient girl hiding out in some shitty apartment. Lord Varis gave me the clear to try and sniff her out.” Throwing a hard punch, you nearly miss the chance to block it, skidding back on your feet from the force. “Sent some of my best men to ensure they nabbed ya. Only to find that little blonde girl went and hid you somewhere my men couldn’t find.”

“One of ‘em was smart enough to try and not leave empty handed, and took the blonde girl as consolation for Lord Varis. But then you…” he growls, giving you a nasty kick to your stomach, sending you rolling to the floor. “You leapt out your hiding spot and murdered all my men, screaming like a banshee. Every police report said you killed every single one of those men without mercy.”

You dodge his foot as he tries to stomp on your head, rolling under the railing and dropping to the floor below, tucking into a roll so you don’t break your legs. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for men who came with the intent to kidnap me and hand me to their crazy ass boss?! “I was doing the world a favor by killing those men.” You roar as you watch him leap down to the same level as you, his sclera going black, irises going red.

The Resonant.

“You’re gonna regret sayin’ that.” He whispers.

Just like Zenos, he’s insanely fast, too fast for normal eyes to keep up with. However, he’s still slower, lacking Zenos’ incredible speed. For what he lacks in speed, he makes up for in sheer power, blocking one punch of his making you cry out in pain. Backing away from him you clutch your hand, praying that none of the bones within are broken. I’m in trouble, you think. So much for no confrontation.

“You better hope there’s something of you left for me to even give Lord Varis.” Ilberd threatens, cracking his knuckles with a smirk.

“Bullshit,” you scoff, shaking the pain from your hand. You can still feel everything. That’s a good sign at least. “Much as he hates my guts he wouldn’t suffer to lose such good research material...not when I have his lovely grandson growing inside me right now.” You can’t help but taunt. It’s a huge gamble, but you’re hoping he buys it.

“Still holdin’ on to the bastard, are ya?” Ilberd grins, cracking the joints in his neck. “An easy fix. One good punch and it’s good as dead. Then Varis can give Zenos a little brother--”

Snagging him by the hair, you bring his face to your knee, uncaring of the bloody mess of his nose breaking on your shin. Your tattoo glows brightly on the back of your neck as you slam Ilberd into the floor, hard enough to feel the vibrations in your feet. You move to crush his head beneath your foot but he rolls out the way, brushing blood from his face, eyes redder than before.

“I’d rather die than let that monster put his hands on me again.” You snarl, feeling the power of the Echo rush through your veins as you pursue Ilberd, putting yourself on even ground with him at last. You’re both blurs to anyone who would watch with normal eyes, chest heaving as you fight to live, fight for both of you to live.

Even with the Echo’s help, Ilberd is not going down easy. Whatever the Resonant has done to him has made him not just stronger and faster, but somehow extremely resilient. It feels like hitting stone, hurting your hands and wearing you down much faster than intended. Ilberd seems to notice your frustration, grinning as he manages to slam you into the ground. “Thought your lil’ ‘gift’ was gonna give you the upper hand, huh?” He cackles, kicking you roughly in the ribs.

You can feel something crack, whimpering in pain as you try to will the strength in your limbs to stand. “Bet you only fought Zenos’ Resonant, huh?” Ilberd continues, taking measured steps toward you. “Betcha didn’t think Lord Varis could improve on it, didya? That he could make someone stronger, faster, and tougher.” Crouching down, he snags you by the hair, ignoring your cry of pain as he drags you up to his face. “Why, I feel invincible.” He laughs, spitting in your face for good measure.

Dropping you again, he moves to kick your stomach, but you quickly flip to your side, arms protecting your abdomen. You cry out in agony, praying that he won’t follow through on that threat he made earlier. “Makes you wonder, huh? I sure as hell wasn’t a descendant from an ancient, yet through pure science Varis made me stronger than his own son.” he boasts, pausing his abuse of you to run a hand through his hair. “Doesn’t mean we can’t experiment on ya anyway. We learned so much from Zenos’ mother, no reason we can’t do the same to you.”

You don’t dare mask the absolute loathing you feel in this very moment, this complete disregard for life that this monster before you spews. “You’re sick.” you spit, groaning with the effort to even speak.

“Says who?” He laughs, giving you a nudge with his boot.

Fight.

“Says me.” you cough out, eyes falling closed. Would this really be how it ended?

Fight.

“You’re lucky Lord Varis needs ya alive, bitch.” Ilberd growls, shoving you roughly with his boot to roll you onto your stomach. “Let me take care of business, and we’ll get ya on back to the lab.”

Why do you not fight?!

You would not let it end here.

You did not come this far to let pain stop you. Not when so many people were depending on you.

You would fight.

Strength renewed, your tattoo pulses brightly as the pain becomes an afterthought, Echo induced adrenaline coursing through your body as you leap to your feet and deliver a spinning kick to Ilberd, throwing him off balance. Catching him by the collar before he can fall, you hit him with an uppercut, feeling his teeth clack together from the force of your blow, finishing him off a solid right hook.

With a growl he frees himself from your grip and socks you in the jaw, smirking as he does so, fading as he realizes you haven’t even recoiled in pain. Whatever pain receptors you have are blocked off as you give him a sadistic smirk, eyes crazed as you don’t even bother to peel his fist off your face. Using his shock against him, you grab him by the collar again and flip him over your shoulder, taking great satisfaction in the way his body slams into the ground.

You pursue him like a woman possessed, nimbly dodging his punches and fearlessly blocking his kicks, feeling no pain no matter how hard he kicks. Though Ilberd doesn’t give up, he’s clearly unnerved by your reaction to pain, or rather your lack of reaction. His eyes go wide with fear at your manic smile-- when had you started smiling?

“Cat got your tongue, Ilberd?” you giggle even as you throw him into the ground face first, stomping hard on his arm, grinning like a cat as he cries out in pain as you hear the bone break. “I gotta say, you get to have some really fun battles when you can’t feel pain...not that you’d know that.” You stamp down on his leg, hearing that break too, enjoying his cries of pain far more than you should.

“A friend of mine said I should go to therapy, you know. I should’ve listened. Because I’m getting far too much enjoyment out of this than is healthy.” You titter, stepping over his body, picking up an unbroken arm and wrenching it backward. “What do ya say I break a bone in your body for every year you robbed Raubahn of, huh?”

“S-Spare me…” Ilberd begs, even as you twist his arm painfully.

“Why should I?” You hiss, wrenching his arm from its socket. “You took everything from me.”

“On the contrary…”

You don’t turn in time to dodge a dart landing itself in your arm, blue liquid draining into your bloodstream before you can yank it out. Your eyes land on Varis who drops a small dart gun from his hand, a smirk plastered on his ugly face. “I believe I took everything from you.”

You try to fight against it but you collapse to the ground, the destabilizer making quick work of dumping you on the floor.

Once he’s sure you won’t be going anywhere anytime soon, Varis begins his descent down the stairs to the main floor where you and Ilberd lay immobile. “I have to say, you had me worried for a moment, Honey. Your little ragtag group of misfits almost undid years worth of planning in one day.” He muses, complete with a slow clap. “Hiding the assistant chief of police, managing to convince Garlond to have some backbone, even swiping an access card off my son to let you roam the facility like the wild animal you are…” he sighs, coming to a stop at the base of the stairs. “Why, it's something right out of a commoner movie.”

“My lord,” Ilberd coughs, sounding relieved, “you’ve come.”

“Yes…” Varis drones, beginning his walk toward the two of you again. You watch as he reaches inside his suit jacket and pulls out of a syringe of sickly green fluid, something that makes Ilberd go rigid.

“M-My lord,” he stammers, trying to will strength into his limbs. “P-Please,”

“You had served me well up until this point, Ilberd. And from what I observed, the Resonant has shown significant improvement,” Varis praises, though his expression remains disappointed. “...unfortunately, you also know how I feel about failure.” You watch as Varis kneels slightly and sticks Ilberd with the syringe, injecting him with the unknown fluid. “Believe me when I say it’s not personal, Ilberd.” Varis huffs.

“M-My lord,” Ilberd stutters, but his speech grows slurred. Your eyes widen as you realize just what it was he injected him with. “I can still--”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as his body goes deathly still.

Varis continues to look down his nose at Ilberd’s now lifeless body before finally sliding his gaze to you. Surprisingly, he doesn’t look angry or hateful. In fact, he looks rather pleased. “How does it feel, Honey? To have gone through all this trouble only to land yourself in my hands, yet again.”

“Fuck you.” you spit, trying to find the strength to stand up.

Seeing your struggle, he gives a deep laugh, giving you a nudge with his foot. “I’ve learned my lesson this time, my dear. I made sure to make an extra special strain of destabilizer to keep on my person just in case you decided to pay any traitorous visits.”

Stepping around you, he nudges your body once again. “At least you are mostly intact...once your comrades all expelled from my research facility and put on trial to be killed in my new society, I believe I’ll be returning for you and we can pick up where we left off last time.” he grins darkly, kneeling down to brush hair from your face.

“Get away from me!” You scream, tears streaming down your face. He couldn’t win. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Everything had been going so well--

“It’s too late for that now, Honey.” Varis growls, yanking hard on your hair. “Far too late,”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence as he cries out in pain, clutching his shoulder as he staggers back in pain. Blood leaks from the wound, his eyes searching out whoever landed the shot. “Who’s there?!”

“Your son.”

Zenos steps from the shadow, holding the gun Ilberd had been toting earlier. Unlike his father, he lets loose his rage, blue eyes staring his father down. Tossing the gun to the ground, he continues making his way toward you. He’s dressed as if his father had sent him on a hit, sword strapped to his side. “I’d have shot another for good measure, but unfortunately there was only one round left.”

Somehow that statement only makes Varis smirk, backing away as his son advances. “Oh? And you wasted your one round not making a killing shot?” he cackles. “Because you know your place, my son.”

At that, Zenos visibly hesitates.

You’ve never seen this kind of hesitation in Zenos before. Never heard this tone from Varis before. The tone of a parent disappointed with their child. The hesitation of a child who knows they’ve upset their parents.

“Really, my son, I give you the world as you wished it and this is how you repay me?” Varis grunts, barely able to keep himself upright. “You take the side of this savage? When I had given you life, given you a home...anything you asked for, I gave it. And you repay me like this? Do you want to let me down, my beautiful child? Do you want me to hate you?”

Zenos falters a bit more at that, no longer able to meet his father’s gaze, and suddenly it all becomes crystal clear.

“Don’t listen to him, Zenos.” you wheeze, begging silently for him to meet your eyes. “Look at me. Do not listen to him.”

“Silence, wench!” Varis hisses, gaining enough strength to press his foot to your neck.

“Your father is a master manipulator, Zenos,” you continue, staring hard into his blue eyes. “Anytime you told me you never cared for what he did, that you wanted nothing to do with him...you were lying. He had manipulated you into wanting his approval. His love.”

“I said be quiet!” Varis snarls, pressing his foot down harder. You can see the conflict in Zenos’ eyes, looking between you and his father.

“That’s why you let him experiment on you. Why you killed for him. He lied to you didn’t he? He told you that if you did those things for him, he’d love you, didn’t he?” You press on, voice rising with each question.

You whimper as Varis kneels to grab you by the hair, ugly face twisted in a scowl. “Be quiet! Do not listen to her, Zenos!”

“He never loved you!” You roar, ignoring how Varis’ hands wrap around your throat. “You were always just a tool to him! But I love you, Zenos! I’ve always loved you--” You can’t finish as Varis’ grip on your windpipe begins to constrict, unable to even bring your hands up to pry them off. “Zenos...I...love,”

The pressure on your neck is released as Zenos pries his father off you, your lungs dragging in air desperately as Zenos drags you away from Varis. Pulling the dart from your shoulder he tosses it elsewhere, shifting to hold you in his arms. An immediate sense of safety washes over you as he cradles you close, hesitating for one moment longer, but turning his back on his father.

“Zenos. Zenos!” Varis roars at the retreating back of his son. “I will not allow you to disgrace me this way! I am your father!”

“That may be so,” Zenos calls over his shoulder, still moving forward. “But I have someone who actually loves me, now.”

Varis yells in his rage, forcing himself to stand to his feet. “Z-Zenos,” you murmur, watching as Varis reaches into his suit. “Zenos, we need to run,” you try to urge, watching as his father pulls out a shiny, vial full of red liquid. Zenos turns just in time to see Varis jab the vial into his arm, everything going still for a moment until Varis’ eyes bleed black the two of you watching in horror as Varis stands to his feet with renewed strength. Red pupils laser in on the two of you as Varis laughs madly while his sclera grows black.

“I won’t allow you to leave--” he clutches his throat, all in the room confused into stillness at how warped his voice sounds, watching as he tries to clear his throat. Your eyes widen as his hand begins to bulge and become deformed, growing larger and larger until the phenomena begins to travel up the rest of his arm. “What’s happening--”

Whatever is happening seems to cause a chain reaction, Varis’ body bulging all over the place as he transforms into a hideous monster. His skin turns red as he continues to grow in size, black wings sprouting from his back as huge fangs grow from his teeth. His hand transforms into claws large enough to hold your entire body in their grip, his mouth now big enough to swallow you whole as he finishes his transformation.

“Zenos, we need to leave,” you advise quietly as possible, Zenos nodding as he begins to make a break for the exit.

“No!” Varis’ voice booms, shaking the entire room. Before Zenos can even run a few steps, the shadow of Varis’ arm looms over you, Zenos just barely able to stop his momentum before getting crushed by Varis’ fist. “I will not allow you to leave!” his atrocious voice booms, fist curling to try and strike again.

You shriek as Zenos’ eyes glow red as he activates the Resonant, using his enhanced speed to dodge another blow. With you in his arms it’s still hard to maneuver, Zenos clutching you tight as he tries to make it to the exit.

“I’ll kill you!” Varis roars, slamming a fist against the ground, the shockwave jolting the two of you hard enough that Zenos loses his grip on you and you fall from his arms. “I will not allow you to destroy my life’s work!”

It hurts when you land on the metal floor, praying you don’t have a concussion while you’re at it. Everything still feels intact, but gods if you don’t hurt something fierce. You couldn’t move if you wanted and Varis seems to know it, trying to make a dive for you but stopped by his son who’s finally drawn his sword. Zenos slices a deep gash in the monster, your ears ringing as it lets loose a squeal of pain. “You traitor! After I’ve given you everything!”

“You’ve given me nothing!” Zenos snaps back, dodging a swipe of his father’s spiked tail. “You took everything from me! My bodyguards! My mother!” His golden hair flies behind him, whipping wildly with every movement as he lands on the monster’s back, preparing to run him through until he gets shaken off. You cry out as Varis manages to get ahold of Zenos long enough to slam him into the floor, but a quick swipe of his blade at one of the claws crushing him has Varis reeling back again, right into--

“Zenos, watch out!” You scream, but it’s too late to do anything. You can do nothing but watch as Varis’ horrid body slams into the reactor, causing it to become unstable due to his size. The alarms blare louder before as the glass breaks, the aether trapped within bursting out in all directions. You can feel it rush over your skin, sensitive to it as the energy is returned to the life stream. Even as the alarms grow louder and an automated voice warns of impending meltdown, you feel a sense of peace.

“NO!” Varis bellows, picking up shards of his former reactor in his hands. “My life’s work! My dreams!”

Using this window of distraction, Zenos quickly bounds over to you and scoops you up again, though not as easily as before, visibly exhausted. Making a break for the stairs, you shudder as Varis continues to roar in outrage, finally pulling himself out of his mourning long enough to realize you’re on the move. “I will not allow you to escape!” His voice thunders, warped and mangled and no longer his own.

With a single blow, he destroys the stairs, sending the two of you falling back to the ground. Zenos winces as he lands back on the floor, violet eyes still frantically searching for an exit.

“I will see the both of you dead!” Varis booms, swinging his arms wildly throughout the room, tearing at the ceiling and walls. “I will bury you alive and emerge victorious!”

Zenos gives you one last glance before he grits his teeth and puts you down again, drawing his sword as he faces his father. “I’ll get us out of here.” he whispers, even as the world falls down around you. Before you can get a word in edgewise he’s launched himself at Varis, making a clean slice of his blade across Varis’ arm.

Fight!

You cry as you watch Zenos face off against his father, and for once, this is the first time you’ve seen him in a fight where he doesn’t smile.

Fight!

It couldn’t end here.

Why do you not fight?!

“It won’t end here.”

Gasping, a familiar figure in a white robe trimmed in gold appears before you. Fluffy, lavender hair spills over their shoulders, red mask in place with only their lips visible. Turning, Elidibus faces you, quickly picking you up in his arms before turning back to the hellish scene before him. “Young Zenos!” he calls, red eyes flicking to him immediately. “We must leave!”

“Elidibus?” Varis snarls, moving to punch at you but Eldiibus dodges out of the way, brows visibly furrowed even beneath his mask. “You were an Ancient? All along?”

“What I am does not matter to you, vermin.” Elidibus bristles, fluffy hair standing on edge as he dodges another blow. The facility groans and shakes, threatening to fall apart at any second. “Young Zenos,” Elidibus begins again, dodging another of Varis’ punches, “we must hurry--”

“Get Honey out of here.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Like hell I’m leaving without you!” you shriek as Elidibus dodges another swipe, Zenos quickly gaining his father’s attention by cutting off a chunk of his tail. Varis’ shrill scream rattles the facility, turning his attention back to trying to kill his son.

“Young Zenos,” Elidibus tries again, avoiding bits of falling debris. You had to leave, now.

“Get out of here, Elidibus,” Zenos calls, after giving Varis another stab with his blade. “I need to hold him off so you can escape.” He grunts, pulling his blade free from the beast. “So that my love can escape.”

No.

No, no, no.

Pursing his lips, you feel Elidibus grip you tight as dark magic begins to encircle you. “Elidibus!” You screech, screaming like a mad woman. “Zenos, don’t do this! I love you, please--”

“I could not think of a better way to die, Honey, other than by your hand,” Zenos breathes, giving you one last smile, “but I suppose fighting to save you will suffice.” Through speaking he launches himself at Varis once more, a genuine smile upon his face.

“You idiot!” You yell, wishing you had any strength left. “I need you! Your child needs you!”

The last you see of him is Zenos’ red eyes turning to you in shock before Elidibus whisks you away. Dark magic enfolds you and pulls you from the facility, sending you back to the surface.

“Elidibus! Elidibus! You have to go back,” you beg as Elidibus arrives at the surface, face pinched in regret even if it's only his jaw you can see. “Put me down and save him. Go back in there,”

“Honey!” you hear Merlwyb call, as the facility burns from the outside. Yugiri and her soldiers begin to run over to see what the fuss is about as Merlwyb continues to yell at you. “Gods woman, you scared me,”

“Put me down Elidibus, go save him,”

Just as Elidibus seems to consider it, you see his violet eyes widen from beneath his mask. Shoving you into Merlwyb’s arms, he quickly turns and faces the research facility, arms upraised as blue magic spreads from his fingers, erecting a barrier. “Everyone get down!”

The facility explodes, a shockwave bursting from below all the way up to the surface, sending debris flying. You can feel the heat of fire nearly hot enough to burn on your skin, hear the sound of groaning metal as the structure collapses in on itself.

Everyone shields their eyes as a wellspring of aether bursts forth out of control, sweeping over everything in the vicinity. Uncovering your eyes, you watch as Elidibus marches forward and calms the flow, teeth gnashed together as he tries to redirect the aether back underground. The earth begins to ward as strange shards of aether begin to form, the ground quaking beneath your feet as cracks begin to form. “Not again,” he grunts, hair whipping wildly about his face as his power calms the spring. “These shards will not pay for our mistakes!” he roars, giving one last push to quiet the stream of aether, restoring peace to the area.

The barrier falls, having protected you from the bulk of the explosion, everyone looking around in a mix of awe and shock at what they had seen. Already you hear sirens in the distance. You’re distantly aware of Merlwyb questioning you, on how you could possibly do some thing so wreckless and so stupid.

But you don’t hear her.

“He’s gone.”

Merlwyb stops her tirade long enough to register just what it was you had said. “He? You mean Varis?”

“Yes,” Elidibus cuts in, moving to take you into his arms, “Varis is slain. But only because young Zenos sacrificed himself to allow us to escape.” he whispers, burying his face into your hair in an attempt to comfort you or perhaps needing comfort himself. “The aether that Varis had consumed had warped his body beyond recognition; his toll for messing with things he did not fully understand. Things that we did not fully understand…”

“He’s gone…” you whimper over and over, staining Elidibus’ robes with your tears. Zenos’ shocked expression is imprinted on your mind, and you keep opening and closing your eyes as if you’ll finally wake up from this nightmare. Each time you do, Elidibus is still there holding you tightly, and Merlwyb is rattling off orders through tears at seeing how broken and defeated you look.

Elidibus carries you in his arms as he changes his appearance back to normal as the emergency services show up, denying all questioning until you are properly seen to. He sticks to your side as a silent protector, regret shining in how tightly he clenches his jaw.

Cid arrives in a rush, practically falling over himself to get to you, having heard the worst, ready to give Elidibus a piece of his mind until Merlwyb cuts in and explains all that had occurred in the final moments of the Aetherochemical Research Facility. News vans arrive in record time, Cid and Merlwyb quickly garnering their attention as Elidibus carries you to the closest ambulance.

Kugane is safe.

Varis zos Galvus is no more.

But what does it matter?

Zenos is gone.

[dreamyjoons]

00-Beginning-Shift // knj

⇢ being stuck in the sleepy town on the edge of a forest is the last thing you need after your grandma’s passing. But a forest ranger, stormy nights and deep amber eyes that sit deep in the woods mean that nothing is sleepy for long. 

genre/warnings: smut, angst! Werewolf!Namjoon x reader. Werewolf fighting, minor injury and blood, swearing, two v different smut scenes, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), fingering, impreg kink, knotting, biting + marking, creampie + lots of it, slight cumplay, some rough smut and some soft, dirty talk. yeah.

words: 21k

A/N: FINALLY i have finished this damn fic. And just in time for Halloween! I hope you all enjoy. Header by Lucy, my shining light. Thanks ho!

Now, you may notice a few faces pop up in this, a question or two left unanswered. This is a little taste of the land that lies in The Tangier Wilds, home to all sorts of beings. You should probably keep an eye out in the next couple months - right, @underthejinfluence? We have a lot ahead, and the shift at the Tangier Wilds is just beginning.

The thing no one talks about with small town is silence.

Sure, there’s always something going on, everyone knows everyone and life always bubbles on. But it’s the moments in between, the suffocating quiet that can take hold of you.

As you stand out on the old wrap-around veranda, eyes transfixed by the huge forest ahead of you, the silence stretches.

Maybe it was because you were standing on the decking of your grandma’s favourite place - where she wanted to spend every last second until the end. Or maybe it was the fact that you had to be the one to pack up and sell on everything of hers. Either way, noise would’ve been very welcome.

The deck creaks behind you, and against your leg brushes something warm. You flinch at the contact, only to peer down and see your grandma’s faithful companion: an elderly mastiff named Luna.

You bend down and stroke the top of her head, smiling as she leans into your hand. Dragging your eyes back up to the forest that looks past the reaches of the open garden, you heave a heavy sigh. Even in the daylight it looked dark and creepy. But it was just trees, you knew that.

You’d only been in town a few hours. But you’d been stopped by at least three locals who knew who you were on sight. After they all offered you kind words about the passing of your grandma, each of them told you to be wary of the woods.

Turning back to the house, you grabbed the keys to the pick-up your gran left you and turn to lock up the house. Luna scurries past you, jumping up into the truck bed and wagging her tail excitedly at you.

"Come on, girl." You sigh, hand sitting on your hip.

The dog merely lets out a soft 'boof' at you as she plonks her butt down, wiggling as she wags her tail. Sighing, you turn and lock up the house before climbing into the driving seat.

You slide open the window to the truck bed, and Luna slowly clambers her way through, wiggling her little legs through as she shuffles into the seat beside you. You give her a little scratch behind the ear as you turn on the engine, pulling the vehicle slowly up the winding drive and out to the small twisting road that leads to town.

Rolling hills settle on one side of you, whilst the forest lines the road on the other. You could barely see past the few rows of trees, a swirling fog rolling across the expanse of dark green.

The low crackle of the radio is the only noise that follows you, the white noise settling eerily on the landscape that surrounds you. Luna sits patiently beside you, eyes fixed on the treeline as you make the half an hour journey into town.

Eventually, you arrive at the nearby town - more of a high street than anything, local shops and boutiques lining the old road. It was a textbook old town, with a little diner on the outskirts and no chain stores; save for the supermarket whos neon sign sits glaringly bold against the sleepy bricks of the town.

You pull into a space along the street as the rain starts to descend. It's more of a fog than rain, but it clings to you as soon as you step out of the truck.

"Sorry girl, I don't think they allow dogs in the store."

You crank the window down despite the chill in the air and shut the door. Luna whines a little, but you wave at her.

"I'll be quick!"

You turn from the truck and jog the distance to the store, the rain permeating through your thin clothes. Cursing the weather of the small town, you grab a basket and begin gathering the essentials.

Your Grandma passing left little in the way of edible foods. Anything in the fridge had gone off, and you weren't particularly interested in the incredible amount of tinned plums and corn soups she had stored away.

A quick ten minutes and two full bags of provisions later, you hovered at the door, watching as the sky poured heavily onto the streets. Steeling yourself, you shoulder through the door and begin to run the distance to your car. The rain flattens your damp hair to your face, your jeans sticking awkwardly to your legs as you push forward.

It would have been an easy task, had you not managed to trip over your feet. You never hit the ground, but a loaf of bread falls from your bags and some apples begin to run away from you. The rain falls hard on you, and you know that if you're not quick, the bags in your arms were going to disintegrate.

Swearing under your breath and feeling the rain seeping through your clothes and chilling you, you stoop awkwardly to pick everything up.

The rain suddenly stops pounding on you, the relief and cold immediately settling in. Noticing the rain still falling just ahead, you spin behind you to see a man in a deep green ranger's uniform standing over you with a large umbrella held over you both.

"Uh... hello?" You say dumbly at the man, flicking your head to get your wet hair out of your face.

"Hello ma'am, need some help?" He smiles down at you, dimples riveting on his cheeks as his eyes gently take in your damp appearance.

"God yes, please."

A breathy laugh passes his lips as he watches you stand, sliding an arm around one of your bags and taking it from you. After quickly rounding up your escapes groceries, he lets you lead him to where the truck sat. Once you'd got the door open and the shopping shoved safely in the dry, you turn to him.

He stands close so that you both fit under the umbrella, hand reaching out to stroke Luna through the cracked window. With him distracted you cast a quick glance over him, your heart thumping wildly in your chest.

He was hot. And not in an obnoxious way - he was wholesome. And hot.

His honey hair was pushed back from his face, his uniform pressed over his obviously in-shape body, and a ranger’s badge with one above it saying ‘chief’ sat pinned to his chest.  His little dimples draw your eyes as he grins at Luna, ringed fingers stroking behind her ears.  You make a subconscious mental note that there as no ring on his wedding finger - before promptly scolding yourself.

"Well, thank you officer." you croak. He looks back at you and you almost squeak at how tender he looks.

"Namjoon, please. We're not that kind of place."

"Namjoon, cute. I'm Y/N."

"Yes, I know." He smiles, a little redness cropping across his cheeks. You're floored, watching in delight as it spreads.

"Your gran, she talked about you a lot."

A small smile picks up on your lips. Of course your grandma did - she couldn't be contained. You realise Namjoon was still there, waiting. You meet his gentle eyes and smile.

"That sounds about right."

"You staying at her place now?"

"Yeah, packing up all her stuff so it'll sell. I'm trying to work with the solicitor here in town but he's a little..."

"He's an asshole." Joon smirks, and a laugh burst from you, relief flooding you.

"Yeah, he's an asshole. Mr Min's not the easiest to deal with."

"I know. But I'm friends with his son, Yoongi, and I can promise they're not all like that."

The conversation lulls, and a comfortable silence settles upon you. The rain hammers against his umbrella, the breeze drifting through the gaps between you. Noticing the shiver that consumes you, he clears his throat awkwardly.

"You better go before you catch something nasty. The sicknesses that go around here aren't to be tested."

He pulls open your door and moves the umbrella so that you can get in the car dryly. Heat creeping across your face, you jump in, slamming the door shut beside you and rolling the window down.

"Well, thanks again." You smile as you lean against the door, your eyes meeting his.

He smiles back at you, but it slips off his face as he presses against the side of your truck, his eyebrows creased as he looks at you.

"Y/N, do me a favour."

His sudden change in demeanour slides over you, cutting deeper than the chill settling into your bones. You nod slowly, wrapping your arms around yourself.

"Don't go into the woods."

"Why does everyone keep telling me that? What's so bad about it?"

"Just... bad things happen in the woods. People go in and often don't come out. I don't want that to happen with you."

You sit your hands on top of the wheel, eyes locked into an intense stare. You wanted to know what the big deal was. But you were an outsider in this small town. There wasn't going to be a lot that you would be told - you were gonna have to find out for yourself.

You let your eyes drop to his soft lips, the little dimple that sits on his cheek, and back to the warm eyes that now had a sharp edge to them.

"Okay, fine."

At your words he deflates a little, pressing away from the car and an easy smile slipping onto his face. He taps the hood lightly, offers Luna and then you a small wave and then turns, walking down the street with the umbrella propped against his shoulder.

you watch him walk away, eyes lightly flicking down to his tightly-clad trousers before setting on the top of your wheel.

Blowing out a sigh, and cranking the heating up in the truck to max, you turn on the engine and pet Luna on the head. You pull out of the rainy town, starting the windy journey back to your grandma's.

-- --

Once the groceries were stowed away and the heating was thumping through the house, you settle yourself on the couch, eyes stuck on the forest sitting just beyond the window.

All the comments about the forest had gotten your back up, but for the ‘chief’ forest ranger to personally warn you was another matter. So alone you sat, all doors and windows locked, Luna curled up at your side, baseball bat sat tightly in your hands.

Not that you were expecting anything - but you weren't going to risk it.

You sat quietly as the light drained from the sky, darkness and chill settling over the house and seeping into the forest. You thought about dragging yourself off to the nice four-poster bed that sat upstairs with fresh sheets on it, but you wanted to see what was wrong with the woods just short of actually venturing inside.

The hours whittled away, the light gone as you sat in the blackness, eyes scanning the treeline. Your day had been long -nearing twenty-nine hours at this point- but you were determined to see it through. Luna was completely unphased, twitching in her sleep against your thigh.

This was stupid, you knew it is. But if there was something wrong with the woods, you needed to be able to live alongside it for the time being.

Your surroundings grew hazy quite often, and it was hard to keep your eyes focused when your body so desperately needed sleep. But you struggled on, bat sitting against your calf. You prop your head upon your hand, eyes loosely focusing on the near full moon before finally going dark.

Luna's aggressive barking wakes you up, and with a start, you sit bolt upright on the chair. The baseball bat clatters to the floor, and you groggily rub your eyes as you take in your surroundings.

The sun was low already, and you realised you must have slept the day away. A light chill drifted through the air, but at least the rain had stopped.

Luna's next round of barking started, and you realise that she was barking at the front door. Another rattled knock echoes through the house, wearily bringing you to your feet. Your body cries out stiffly, your need to sleep in a bed absolute.

You stagger to the door and calm Luna before unbolting and opening to reveal Namjoon. A frown slips onto your face, but you feel a little giddy as he smiles at you.

"Hey, officer."

"Y/N, good evening. How was your first night?"

"It was good. You wanna come in?"

"No, no. I was just on patrol and thought I'd stop by to see how you settled… and also, to give you this."

He pulls his hand round from beside him, presenting you an umbrella - identical to the one he sheltered you with yesterday.

"This is a rainy-ass town. You're gonna need one of these and I have at least a dozen, so here."

He extends the umbrella further and you take it from him, fingers brushing against his as you slide it from his grip. You roll it over in your hands, genuinely touched at his gesture.

"Thank you offi- Namjoon. Thank you Namjoon." You smile, holding it tightly to your chest.

He grins at you, tucking his head into his chest before looking back up at you. His radio attached to his shoulder crackles into life, and with a short sigh and a roll of his eyes, he backs away. He waves at Luna and you laugh, and he turns an easy smirk onto you before turning and jogging to the department truck that sits at the end of the drive.

With a final wave to each other he pulls away, heading in the direction of the setting sun and further away from you. You step back inside the house and close the door before leaning back against it. You pull the umbrella from your chest and give it a once over, a soft heat creeping across your face.

Luna lets out a light rumble of a bark from beside you, snapping you out of your daze. You push off the door and give her a quick scratch on the ear, laying the umbrella next to where your coat hung.

The next night and day pass without a blip.

Your grandma’s house was almost entirely packed save for the essentials, and the solicitor had been over with a realtor to take photos and assess the process.

In all, you hadn’t been able to stop, the forest that lingers on the outside of the house pushed to the furthest reaches of your mind. The days exhausted you, and the nights were spent completely flat out, exhaustion pulling you to sleep in minutes.

It was shaping up to be another of those days. You made the rounds, locking the doors and shutting the curtains. The glow of the full moon was especially bright, illuminating you through the dark and blustery night as rain pounded down on the windows.

You’d barely pulled the final curtain shut when Luna starts barking frantically. You find the old girl running crazily around the living room, occasionally stopping to scratch at the back door. Confused you stop just behind her. She turns and barks at you before sitting in front of the door, growling. Something doesn't settle in your stomach but you can’t place it.

You gotta pee?” You ask softly, unease clear in your voice.

You move to open the door, but you decided to take precautions, the words of the town’s people ringing in your head. Stooping to grab the baseball bat that now sat by the back door, you unlatch the door and swing it open, heart in your throat.

You raise the bat and jump into view and prepared to fight, only to find nothing there. The porch is empty, and there’s nothing sitting between you and the forest-

Apart from Luna.

The old dog moves like you’ve never seen, charging full speed into the forest, disappearing into the treeline.

“LUNA!” You bellow, but she doesn’t reemerge. You call her again but she doesn’t return, the only answer you get was a heavy rustle of the treeline as you stare helplessly into it.

You swear under your breath, all the warnings of the forest charging unchecked through your mind. You didn’t want to go in -that was the last thing you wanted- but you weren't going to let Luna get lost in that creepy-ass forest.

You run to the hallway and throw on your coat, lace on your boots as tight as you can and dash into the kitchen. You rip open one of the draws to find the large flashlight you knew your grandma had kept - bright red, dotted with dinosaur stickers. You had ‘decorated’ it for her when she was younger, and she had kept it ever since.

Flicking it on to ensure it still worked, you threw yourself out of the house, through the now howling wind and ran full speed into the forest.

You felt your steps falter as you finally stepped within the treeline. You tried to remind yourself that there was nothing to fear, but with the way the trees lumbered as far as you can see and the wind rustling through the gnarled branches, you found your resolve getting weaker.

You wanted to call out for Luna, but you could feel your voice dying in your throat each time you tried. Instead you strained your ears, searching for anything that could reveal the old girl’s location.

A fair bark ripples off slightly to the left, and you forcefully ignore the fact that it’ll drag you deeper into the forest. Aiming your torch down to the mulchy forest floor, you push on. The floor is slippery and you often lose your footing but you press on, determined not to lose Luna. Your grandma would surely come back to haunt you if anything happened to her.

A low growl soon turns into a yelp and you slam to a halt. It was unmistakably Luna, but the sound bounces off the trees making it impossible to pinpoint her.

Your heart thuds stupidly in your chest, an eery feeling of the forest creeping along your body making the hairs stand on end. You needed Luna, and you needed to get the fuck out of here before you get hurt, lost or something much worse.

“LU-”

You’re cut off by a movement over a large gnarled tree root in the distance. The wind rattles again, sending a chill straight to your bones, but you shake yourself loose of its hold, forcing yourself to put one foot in front of the other.

You bolt in the direction of the movement, pleading with whatever divine power there may be that it was Luna, and you’re not chasing some kind of angry forest animal. You crash over the tree roots and slide down the small drift into a tiny clearing.

Picking yourself blearily up out of the mud, you finally spot Luna: cowering against the trunk of a huge spruce tree, her fur filthy and soaked.

Pushing to your feet you stagger over, dropping to your knees in front of her and holding her face in your hands.

“Are you okay girl?” You whisper, brushing forest debris away from her face.

She pulls her face away from your hands and balls into your stomach, making herself as small as possible. Panic running wild through your mind, you get to your feet and stroke her, hoping you remembered the way back.

A large crack echoes from behind you, and you cautiously turn towards the sound, against your better judgement. Your mind screams at you to run, begging and pleading. But your body doesn’t respond.

Slowly you turn. But there’s nothing behind you.

You let out a soft sigh, shifting the flashlight in your hands.

“Okay Luna, let’s go-”

Another crack, and you spin - only to meet a pair of huge amber eyes staring at you from between the trees ahead.

You think you just imagine it -your brain was playing tricks on you- but then it blinks, continuously watching you.

Ice runs cold through your veins, your heart pounding it’s way desperately through your chest. You fiddle with the torch in your hand, trying to turn the damn thing off but you know it’s too late.

The eyes move towards you, the mass moving from between the trees towards your frozen figure. It stoops above you, despite stopping feet away. The wind blusters your hair into your face, the fur on whatever the creature was rustles wildly. It reared back on two feet, covering any light that filtered in through the trees above.

It appeared to be sniffing but you daren’t move. It was as big as a bear but it was lither, and infinitely more terrifying despite being only a ghostly silhouette with deep amber eyes.

You feel yourself rooted to the spot, the cold and wet that seeps into you a distant memory as you remain petrified. Was it going to attack you? Attack Luna? What was it waiting for?

Luna whines, and the beast shifts it’s eyes towards her, and you know this is the only chance. As quickly but with as little movement as you can, you flick on the torch and launch it through the trees, away from you and Luna.

It makes a loud crash as it bounces off a tree, and the creature whips around to the sound, charging off in the direction of the noise. It moves fast, vanishing like smoke in the wind as it charges in the direction of the torch.

Freedom burns at your senses, and you know this is your only shot. Ignoring how heavy she was, you scoop Luna up in your arms and sprint as fast as you can in the direction you thought the house sat.

You didn’t stop, despite the pain in your back and arms, and the short burning breaths that squeezed out of your lungs as you ran. You didn’t stop until the edge of the forest was visible.

You daren’t look back, staggering on until you finally hit the deck of your grandma’s porch, bursting through to drop Luna on the couch before slamming the door shut behind you, throwing shut every lock and bolt it had.

You sank down as you leant against the door, your entire body throbbing. You were covered in mud and twigs, your skin burning at finally being in the warmth. But your brain wouldn’t slow, and neither would your heart.

Luna sprints to you, crawling into your lap with her head pressed against your chest. You cradle the dog to you, ignoring the grime that sticks to you both.

You stay there. You don’t know how long for. Hours, definitely. Neither of you moving. Luna had fallen asleep against you, and though your body had gotten stiff and sore you didn't dare move nor close your eyes.

It wasn’t until the light was strong and glaring through your windows that you actually felt your body relax slightly.

Luna had finally felt brave enough to peel herself from you, taking a deep drink of water from her bowl before curling up in a warmer spot on the couch. You hadn’t moved though, your hands now sitting in your lap, nervously twitching.

The shape of it, you couldn’t shake from your mind. It was something that transitioned from being on all four legs to standing, huge and furry. You couldn't make out any more defining features in the darkness, but you remembered the eyes. Those huge amber orbs, staring right at you.

Why didn’t it attack you straight away? It was going to at some point, you were sure of it. But why did it take its time?

You didn’t know what it was. Not you could even begin to process it fully, but you knew for certain that you didn't know of such a creature. You had to know more - especially if you were going to be living there for the time being.

A quick knock on your door makes your heart race, the noise making you almost jump out of your skin. You get up and stiffly walk to the window, sliding the curtain back just enough so that you could see who it was. The person wasn’t visible, but the ranger jeep sitting just a little behind your truck let you know who it was.

You let out a relieved sigh as you shuffle into the hallway. You caught sight of yourself in the mirror and froze, your hair twisted and matted from being in the rain, your eyes tired and wild. You ripped off the coat you still wore that was covered in mud and forest debris, and you kicked off your mud-caked boots, nudging them out of sight. With a quick comb of your hair with your fingers you unlocked the door, opening it and smiling weakly at ranger Namjoon. It’s a smile he doesn’t return.

“Hey.” You smile, voice thick with lack of use, and from the panting you had been doing that night. You clear your throat as he offers you a stiff nod.

“Morning, Y/N.”

“Morning, How can I help you?” You ask, eyes taking in the dark circles under his eyes, and the way his jaw sits tightly. You narrow your eyes at him, searching for your answer.

His reply is cut off by a feral bark, and you both spin to see Luna finally awake, barking at Namjoon with such a ferocity all you can do for a moment is stare dumbly. She jumps up at him and barks aggressively in his face, leaving him to stagger back, stunned.

You grab her collar and pull her away as gently as you can, ushering her still howling into the next room and closing the door on her.

You turn back to him, worried that he’d hate you for Luna’s actions. You don’t know why you cared so much.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry. She got… spooked by something last night and I think she’s feeling a little protective.” You say softly, holding back from reaching out and placing a hand on his arm.

He swallows thickly, eyes examining your face.

“I’m alright. What spooked her?” He asks a little too quickly, and you pause, running through the options in your head.

It was only a couple days ago that he and half the damn town had warned you not to go beyond the trees. And you said that you wouldn’t - but that was before Luna had taken off. And she was your priority, an ode to your grandma. Besides, maybe you could get some information out of him about just what the hell you saw. Why would he warm you if he didn’t know what was there?

“Luna got lost in the forest last night. I went in after her, and found her very afraid in the woods.” You say each word carefully, measuring the weight of it as you watch the information sink in.

His jaw drops slightly and his eyebrows cross, and you immediately know he wasn’t happy.

“You did what?!” He bellows, his volume making you jump and triggering Luna to begin howling on the other side of the door.

“Was I just supposed to let her run in and stay there Namjoon? No way in hell.”

“I told you not to go!” He shouts, finger pointing at you. You can see the anger clear on his face but there was concern there too, you were sure of it. That didn’t mean your blood wasn’t boiling, though.

“You’re not my parent! I don’t take orders.”

“I’m not being an ass Y/N! It’s not safe, that was a stupid thing to do.”

Why isn’t it safe, huh? Tell me, officer.” You spit, watching him recoil at the ice in your words. He exhales hard, his eyes set firmly on you.

“I don’t have to tell you anything. If you’re gonna be that careless I don’t want you in my town.”

“Namjoon-”

“Don’t go in again.”

With those harsh words passing his lips, he gives you a critical once over before turning, shaking his head as he trudges back up your drive to his car. You watch him go, blood pumping angrily through your body but a pang of hurt settles in your chest.

You slam the door and opening the one beside you to release Luna. Confusion rattles around your brain as you stalk back into your living room, and throw yourself down on the couch. You chew your lip, his words floating around in your head.

‘If you’re gonna be that careless I don’t want you in my town’. It hurt, prickling at you whilst you replayed the conversation in your head.

Luna jumps up next to you and sniffs wildly in you face before plonking herself down next to you, head in your lap and big eyes peering up at you. You sigh, bringing your hands to gently rest between her ears, stroking her gently, letting your anger ebb away.

That interaction with Namjoon had left a bad taste in your mouth. You didn't know what could have provoked him so, but you weren't going to be stopped. His defiance concreted that fact.  You were going to find out what was going on in the woods.

You let your eyes flick to the still curtained window, hyper-aware of what laid beyond the trees. You forced yourself to breathe evenly, grim determination settling itself within you. You were going to find out what was in the woods, and not even the infuriating and impossibly cute Namjoon was going to stop you.

The next morning found you up bright and early in the town library, rifling through what had to be at least two centuries worth of local newspapers. Your laptop sits near you, whirring away with freshly typed notes, and your third to-go cup of tea sat cooling nearby.

So far you'd found barely a page's worth of information, and even that was a stretch.

The articles that did highlight anything were vague, and often oddly so. Important issues raised about missing people who wandered into the woods or strange shapes spotted through the treeline were never mentioned again until something similar pops up months or years later. And then the process would repeat.

But you did strike a little amount of gold.

A shape had been spotted in the forest consistently for at least one hundred years, big and dark, not quite a bear but not small and definitely not human. There were a few articles from paranormal investigators and cryptid hunters that it was a humanoid who could turn, or it was the amalgamation of negative energy metamorphosing into a beastly shape. Only a few of these were ever published, and with a quick glance at the mail section of the newspaper, you could see that people didn't want that kind of rubbish in the town paper.

There had even been mention that there was more than one shape that rustled beyond the trees, though you had only found mention of it only four or five times.

And despite what Namjoon had said about people going missing in the forest, the missing person’s segments were empty and there were no articles about anyone going missing within the last decade.

A chill runs through you as the creature seeps back into your mind. You forcefully push it aside and try to stifle a yawn - you hadn’t slept well that night. How could you?

With your body slowly going numb from your prolonged period sat on your ass, you get up and stretch before moving to put away the papers. You tuck away your laptop and throw your empty cups in the bin as you emerge onto the sleepy rainy street.

Despite having been in town for barely a week, you hadn’t seen a single day without drizzle. Not that you minded - it make the smell of the forest drift everywhere, fresh and clean. You root around in your bag for the umbrella Namjoon had left you - although it still stung to think about him, the little black umbrella had been very appreciated.

So entrenched in your searching, you blindly stepped onto the sidewalks; only to crash into someone. You stumble slightly, but they shoot out a steadying hand, their gentle grip righting you back onto your two feet.

“Oh, Y/N, I’m sorry!”

You turn to face Namjoon, his slightly longer hair ruffled and wet from the rain, his ranger uniform shrouded by a puffy black winter coat. The delight you want to feel at seeing him softly smile down at you, dimples looking divine, is tinged with the hurt that you still feel from the day before.

Sensing your apprehension he hangs his head, nodding. You wait, hitching your bag higher and waiting expectantly for him to say something. He rubs his arm awkwardly, and you could practically see the thought whirring in his head.

"Bye, Namjoon," You sigh, turning to walk away but his hand encompasses your elbow, stopping you.

"Wait- Y/N, I'm sorry I was an ass yesterday. I was just worried."

"Worried? Why?"

His thumb begins idly stroking your inner arm, and despite the blush that creeps across his face you don't think he realises he's doing it. His forehead was creased as he looks at you, his warm eyes surrounded by dark bags. You realise he looks like hell, tired and a little drained.

"People really do go missing in those woods. And it's my job to find them. Sometimes I'm not always lucky." His voice lowers, the weight of his words hitting you square in the face. You don't think he's lying - no, you know he isn't - but it wasn't adding up.

"Who is going into the woods?" You ask, your mind reeling back to all the papers you had just spend hours pouring over.

"Out of towners, mostly. Hikers, teens, the usual. The people of this town learnt long ago not to go into the woods, especially after dark..."

He lets his sentence linger, finally letting his hand drop from you.

You knew all about what loitered in the trees after dark. The memory of those amber eyes root you to the spot, the cold settling deep inside you.

You blow out a harsh breath, eyes examining his face.

"Do you wanna grab some coffee?" You blurt, immediately sucking your bottom lip into your mouth and chewing on it.

"What?" Namjoon's eyes are wide as he stares at you, wiping away a particularly fat dribble of rain way from his temple. You watch his fingers brush the drip away and swallow thickly.

"Coffee."

"Yeah I know what you said, I mean why?"

"Fresh start? Look, I want to know more, and you look like you haven't slept in about three days. It's mutually beneficial." You shrug, but you desperately wanted him to say yes.

He meets your eyes, and after a second he smiles softly, nodding and extending his elbow for you. You draw your eyebrows but smile at his gesture, slipping your hand into the crook of his arm.

"Only if you let me pay. As a way to apologise."

"That sounds fair, Namjoon."

He looks down at the mention of his name, a hint of a chuckle falling from his lips. You look away from him, heat building across your face as he gently steers you to a small chain coffee shop that sits on the corner of an intersection.

"Not quite quaint and small-townlike." You smirk, walking through the door behind him, letting your hand drop from him.

"No, but it is twenty-four hour, so I'm not gonna complain."

Drinks ordered and picked up, you both stow yourselves away by the windows, clouded from the heat that presses against the cold glass. The rain is falling a little heavier, the sounds seeping soothingly into your bones as you pull the cup to your lips, eyes finding Namjoon across the table.

His eyes find you, watching you blow the steam from the top of your mug. Suddenly aware of him watching you, you hide behind the mug. He splutters at having been caught before he laughs awkwardly.

"So, you don't fancy staying here in your Grandmother's house?" He asks after sipping his own drink, pink speckled across his cheeks.

"Oh, no. There's nothing for me here, not really." You sigh, placing the mug down.

He nods, fingers circling the handle of his mug. It's your turn to watch, slender fingers tracing the edges of the porcelain. He brings an elbow to the table and rests his head in his hand, eyes finding yours.

"That's a shame. It'd be nice to have a new face in this town, especially yours."

"Oh really?" You ask, eyebrows raised.

"No! I mean, yes of course, but, I uh-"

"Thank you, Namjoon."

He stops his rambling to look at you, wide-eyed and frantic. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, and you can't help but laugh at his expressions. He blows out a shaky laugh, eyes meeting yours.

"Sorry."

"No don't be sorry. It's... cute." You smile, eyes darting down to your hands around the coffee cup.

"No, you're-" His words are cut off by the crackle of his radio pinned to his chest. you can't make out the words, but he stops to roll his eyes and tips back his coffee, swallowing it in two big gulps.

"Sorry, I have to run."

"It's okay, I have a meeting with Mr. Min soon anyway."

"Oh, really? well, I might see you later, then." He gives you a wide smile as he gets to his feet, shuffling around you awkwardly.

He gives you a final wave and shouts a quick goodbye to the shop staff before he pushes out of the coffee shop and out into the drizzle before jogging down the street, out of your view.

You hide your smile in your mug, pressing it to your lips and taking a deep sip, eyes raking over where Namjoon had once sat.

You may not be fully sure of the big man's intentions, but he was impossible not to like.

-----

You barge out of Mr Min's solicitor's office with a scowl on your face and a fire still roaring in your stomach.

Not only had he snottily decided that he didn't want to deal with the realtors any more -meaning you had to manage the whole move now- but he had also kept you waiting for an hour so that he could let his food ‘digest in peace’.

You shut your eyes as the rain gently fell, letting it cool you down. It had settled down, turning from a rainy onslaught to a soft haze that rolled through on the breeze.

"Y/N!"

you snap open your eyes to see Namjoon leaning out of his truck window, waving at you. Confusion written across your face, you check the coast is clear before jogging across the road and stopping just outside his window.

"What are you doing here? I thought you got called away."

"Oh, yeah, well my deputy was handling it in the end, and I was nearby. I remembered you saying that you were here, and you know, I was just passing by..."

"Ah, I see." You murmur, unsure of where he was heading to but endlessly endeared by it.

"Do you, uh, don't worry." He whispers, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Do I what?"

"Do you wanna come on patrol with me?" He asks quickly, his eyes darting away and fixing on his steering wheel.

"Can... can I do that?" You ask, eyes flicking over his profile. He looks back at you with a glimmer of excitement on his face, and he grins.

“What’s the point of being the chief ranger in the area and not taking advantage of it?”

You smile at him, a lightness filling the angry void that dealing with Mr Min had left.

He takes your smile as a confirmation as he leans away from you and opens the passenger door for you. You run to it and jump in, slamming the door behind you as you let yourself thaw out in the warm truck.

He looks over to you and grins, dimple taking pride and place on his face. You sigh, basking in the warmth of his smile. But the warmth of the truck mostly, you tell yourself.

He pulls off, taking you both through the drizzly town and out towards the outskirts. You trace the edges of the forest, following the windy roads that lead around the town and the surrounding areas.

It’s quiet, inside and outside the car. But it’s comfortable, soaking in each other’s presence as you watch the wet world pass by.

But when it’s not quiet, you talk. About everything and nothing. You talk about he only recently got his driving licence so he could do his job, how he has to keep a spare uniform in the car because he drops his coffee on himself on a daily basis. You talk about your gran and the way she would force Namjoon to stay for a cup of something hot and a story from her childhood.

“And you. She talked about you a lot.” He smiles as he looks over at you, gentleness creeping into every inch of him.

You’re pulled to the side of the road in a small gap between the trees, watching as cars zip by. Namjooon said this was his favourite spot to stop and you could see why.

Just over the other side of the road was quite a sheer drop, but beyond it laid the forest, reaching as far as you could see in the foggy afternoon. The fog filtered over the treetops as it began it’s slow crawl towards the town, shrouding everything in its way. The road that lay ahead of you was empty, but from your spot between the trees you can see it weaving around the trees and inclines for miles.

You drag your eyes away from the surroundings to smile at him, letting his words sink below your skin.

He feels so close to you suddenly, only a foot away in the seat of his truck, the warmth from the heating and the heat radiating off his body fogging up the windows. His hair sticks out awkwardly from under his hat, one hand perched awkwardly on top of the wheel despite the engine having been shut off a while ago.

He seems to notice this to as he slides it off and moves to put it on the seat between you, but lands his hand on yours instead.  He jumps at the contact, grinning sheepishly at you, cheeks turning a bright pink. You watch him in complete fascination as the blush on his cheeks spread down his neck and how he plonks his hands awkwardly in his lap.

“So was that a part of your job description? Having tea with my grandma?” You ask, a small smirk slipping to your lips. He huffs out a light laugh, finally lets himself relax a little.

”No, but your grandmother never gave me a choice. Not that I minded.” He smiles, shuffling around in his seat to face you.

The warmth of his truck finally seeps into your bones, and it strikes you how comfortable it is, sitting in there with Namjoon. Condensation begins coating the window and soon you can’t see out. It’s warm, and the closeness to him makes your head spin.

You take the time to look at him, really look at him. The softness of his hair that sits clunkily under his hat, the small freckles that dot his face. One sits under his lip that you’re extremely fascinated by, and when he smiles it disappears, but then you see his dimples and your heart flips.

He watches you too, his dark eyes flickering over your face, stopping on your lips before darting up to meet your eyes.

“How much longer will you be in town for?” His voice is barely above a gravelly whisper, and you lean in closer to try and hear.  

“I… don’t know.” You whisper truthfully, your eyes lingering on his full lips.

He sighs, and you can feel his hot breath roll down over your face and neck. You smile sadly at him; you don’t want to leave the town too soon, you realise. It would be like leaving a piece of your grandma behind, a piece of you. And a whole Namjoon would be here too.

You bite your lip in thought, dragging Namjoon’s eyes to watch the movement. His tongue shoots out to wet his lips before your eyes meet again.

The warm air is electric, and like some unstoppable force, you and Namjoon slowly ease closer. His chest rises and falls against his tight green shirt, one of his big warm hands finds a place on your leg, heat spreading from his touch. Your eyes flutter shut, and you can feel him so close, your lips just a brush away from colliding-

A loud knock on the door makes you both jump, sending you back into your seat with a jolt. Namjoon’s eyebrows crease together as he roughly cranks the window down, red hot blush burning on his face.

You take a second to suck in a deep breath, realisation hitting you in the stomach.  You were about to kiss Namjoon. Chief ranger Kim Namjoon, sitting in the car with his bright eyes, big dimples and bigger hands. And if you were honest, despite the churn of your stomach, you were gutted that the kiss didn’t happen-

Outside stands a man in a similar ranger uniform to Namjoon, but with less badges and patches. His chocolate hair rolls back from his forehead, and when he sees Namjoon, his bright smile lights up his whole face.

“Hey Joon! What’s- oh, hello there.” His eyes sweep across to you, and he raises a hand to give you a tiny wave. You feel heat burning furiously across your face but you wave back.

“What do you want, Hoseok?”

“You’ve been radio silent long past check-in. Just wanted to check everything was good so I detoured to your routes. But I can see you were doing just fine…”

“Well… thanks.” Namjoon grumbles, flashing Hoseok a quick smile. “I better take Y/N home soon. I’ll see you back at the office, deputy.”

Hoseok flashes you both a cheeky smile before stepping back and retreating to his truck sitting just down the road.

He takes a moment to let the windows clear as he switches on the engine, the vehicle slowly rumbling into life as the world outside faintly comes back into focus.

Finally he pulls out into the road, the silence in the vehicle thick and engulfing. Your heart still thumps quickly in your chest, your eyes flicking between everything that isn’t Namjoon.

The world flies past as you head back to town, every inch of your skin prickled. You couldn’t explain why you were so drawn to him, why every nerve felt so attached to every move he made and why he was on your mind.

He has answers, you tell yourself. That creature that was in the woods was something that you were sure wasn’t natural. And though you know Namjoon was a good man -you could feel it- he still knew more than he was letting on. You had to find the answers -  even if the truth if it scares you.

You feel yourself slow to a stop, and you look around and realise that Namjoon’s pulled to a stop just beside your truck. You had made it back to town in lightning speed, and a quick glance to Namjoon and his whitening knuckles that gripped the wheel made your stomach churn. You reach for the door when his gravelly voice catches you.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

“Namjoon-

“I mean it Y/N, it was wrong of me-“

“No stop, Namjoon, it’s fine. I wasn’t going to stop you.” You say, the latter part in a softer voice. But he catches it and whips his head around to you, shock growing on his face.

You jump out of his truck and shut the door before he can say anything else, letting the cold evening air cool your burning face. You hurry away from his truck and stop outside of your car door, your heart thudding stupidly in your chest.

You rummage around in your pockets for your keys when you hear the door to Namjoon’s truck. You sigh, worry flitting through you that he might not feel the same, that he had overstepped and as a result, you’d have to leave town. You spin, watching as the big man steps quickly towards you.

“Namjoon, I-“

He takes hold of your face in his hands and pulls you gently to him before he crashes his lips on yours. Small drops of rain splash against your hot skin but you ignore them as you sink into his kiss. You press your hands under his coat as you press yourself into him, your fingers bunching into his green uniform.

His lips move hotly against yours, taking control of the kiss as he swipes his tongue delicately across your lower lip.

He finally pulls back, both of you left panting, hot plumes of breath visible in the cold atmosphere. Your face is still cupped in his hands, his thumb gently tracing across your cheekbone.

“I don’t know what it is about you, but you’re always on my mind.” He breathes, his dark eyes entranced with yours. You nod, your heart fluttering in your chest.

“I-I feel the same. It’s like you’re under my skin.”

“Look, I have to go back to the station, but I want to talk to you. I’ll stop by tomorrow, okay?” He whispers and you nod again, letting your face lean into his touch.

He presses a final soft kiss to your lips before stepping back, letting your fall from his touch. He gives you an awkward wave, but drags his lip between his teeth as he takes one last look at you.

When he finally turns away from you you feel yourself deflate, warmth coursing through you despite the icy rain that starts to beat down heavier on your skin and through your clothes.

You’re still standing there when he pulls away, and only when the first round of shivers run through you do you finally move, finally gripping your keys and opening the vehicle. You slide in, a grin wide on your face as you blast the heating. Once your limbs are thawed out you begin the journey back, the touch of Namjoon still lingering.

------

A hot dinner and a hotter shower later, night had fully fallen. Mercifully it had stopped raining, but all that remained was silence. Luna had curled up in your bed, the covers fluffed over her head as she nuzzles deeper, a contented whine leaving her.

You smile as you towel dry your hair, drawing the curtains against the night.

You launch the towel at the overflowing laundry hamper, making a mental note to do some washing at some point soon. You prepare to climb into bed and shift Luna over slightly when something faint drifts to your ears. You snap up and crane your head, trying to decipher the noise.

Luna doesn’t stir, the noise not affecting her the way it was you, but you were sure you weren’t imagining it.

It was high pitched and melodious, and grabbing the bat that never strayed too far from you, you stepped out of your bedroom and began your slow descent downstairs.

The sound definitely wasn’t coming from inside the house, and the more you listened, the surer you were that it was coming from the edge of the forest. Peering between your curtains out towards the tree line reveals nothing, much to your discomfort.

It was singing.

Once you realised, there was nothing else it could be. It was melodious, and as the sound sunk below your skin, you felt yourself inexplicably drawn to it. You needed to find the source, your soul needed it.

You find yourself drifting towards the back door, and were halfway through unlocking it when you suddenly stumbled back to your senses.

With an aggressive shake of your head, you stagger to your grandma’s dusty landline and dialled one of the numbers that sat scribbled on the small address book next to it.

You anxiously tangle your fingers in the phone wire, praying the number hadn’t changed. Finally it clicked, telling you that he had picked up.

“Namjoon?” You blurt.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?”

“I don't know. There’s someone... singing.” You say, trailing off when you realise how stupid it sounds.

“Singing? Is it coming from the forest?” His voice is serious, and you feel the tension drop from your body.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful... but it’s- you know, weird. Oh, it-it’s stopped.” You stammer, eyes shifting to the back door.

“Y/N, listen to me. Stay inside, drown it out, do not go out towards it. I will sort it but please, keep you and Luna shut up inside.”

“Namjoon-“

“Please just trust me. I’m on my way.”

He hangs up before you can reply. Your stow the handset back on the side, quickly relock the door and bolt back upstairs with the bat.

You rummage around in your suitcase for your portable speaker and play the first song that shows up, cranking the sound as high as you can to down out the singing before it starts again. The volume makes you wince, but you didn’t dare turn it too low.  Luna jolts awake, displeasure clear on her face as she searches for the source of the noise.

You pace the room, curtain thrown open so that you can see when Namjoon finally arrives.

The time seemed to stretch as you waited, the strain of the blaring music starting to get to you as you paced in antsy circles.

Finally you spot him, two solitary beams of headlights stopping close to the edge of the forest. You watch as the lights flicker off, before the beam or his torch moves from his truck and disappears between the trees.

You pace, your mind racing as you subconsciously move to turn your music down. Luna lets out a groan of relief, sagging back under your covers.

You chew your lip, mind wandering to the voice from the woods. Who would be singing in the treeline by your house late at night? Was it some kind of prank?

The voice begins to sing again, but it starts so quiet that you don’t hear it, oblivious to it until the voice is carrying loudly across the open space between the house and the forest. It catches you off guard, and you find yourself being carried towards it. It’s soft, a gentle melody that hits you deep in your core, making you feel almost dreamlike. You barely pull your boots on properly before you’re down the stairs with the door unbolted.

You stumble towards the trees, the wind rustling through your tee and sweatpants, the long blades of grass leaving wet smears across your ankles. The wind whips your hair harshly across your face, but you barely register it.

The singing grows louder as you stumble onwards, and it only takes you a few minutes to find the cause of the heavenly sound.

Leant casually against a gnarled tree stands a man unlike any other that you had seen. His silver hair is swept back from his face, plump lips perched in a delicate ‘o’ shape as a soft sound leaves him. He stands facing away from you with a simple tee tucked into trousers, the cold not phasing him, seemingly rolling off him.

You finally stop, watching him through hazy eyes - although you could definitely make out the peachy shape of his ass, that was crystal clear. He finished his note before lazily turning to face you.

A smirk sits on his lips as he looks you over, his eyes trailing across your body. He pushes off the tree and saunters towards you, a slight lilt in his step as he stops before you. He lifts a hand and lets a finger trail across your cheek, making you shiver under his touch.

“So nice to finally meet you, Y/N.”

“You- you’ve been waiting for me?” You ask dreamily, each word a lot of effort to say.

“Of course, I tend to make a habit of knowing people in the town, especially when they’re pretty.”

You feel your heart flutter as you watch him, his lips perking as he begins to knot his fingers in your hair.

You need to kiss him. It was the only thing you could think about through your haze. And if this beautiful man wanted to kiss you, then who are you to deny him?

The pull to him was roaring through your body, the only thing visible through your fog was him. He begins to move closer to you, and the shiver that runs through you is intense.

With a final smirk he moves towards you, and you realise you're finally, finally going to kiss.

Your eyes had barely fluttered shut before he’s ripped away from you, tugging sharply on your hair as he’s pulled away.

Your eyes fly open as you watch Namjoon drag Jimin by his collar and slam him against the nearest tree. You slam a hand over your mouth as you gasp, but your body feels too heavy to move.

“What are you doing, Jimin?” He barks, anger thick in his voice.

“Just checking out the new face, Joonie-“

“I told you to stay away from her. If I catch you again I swear I'm gonna-“

“No threats needed, dog. I hear you loud and clear.” Jimin puts his hands up in a surrender motion, but a smug chuckle passes his pretty lips.

“I’ll see you around, doll.”

“No, you won’t.” Namjoon growls, but Jimin simply laughs as Namjoon releases him. He pauses to wink at you before he saunters away, heading casually through the trees and finally out of sight.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, a heaviness settles on your bones. The cold finally rattles it’s way deep into you, and you wrap your shivering arms around yourself as you take in your surroundings properly. You felt groggy - it was like a hangover, but instead of a headache you were bone tired, and your hormones were raging against you.

“Namjoon?”

You see him clearly, unclouded - and you had never seen him so angry. The torch that he’d thrown lit up his face from the ground, and you watched as he ground his teeth, his narrowed eyes focused on you.

“What are you doing here?” He snaps, and you step back, affronted.

“I-I don’t know. One minute I was waiting for you to show up, and the next… you had that man pinned against the tree.” You murmur, but you could feel annoyance bubbling under your skin.

“I told you not to leave the house.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose! And even so, you can’t just tell me what to do.”

“This is for your own protection, Y/N!”

“Protection from what Namjoon?” Your sentence is perforated by shivers, the night air settling on your goosebumped skin.

You watch his words die in his throat as you shake. He blows out a harsh breath, before he shuffles the thick black jacket from his shoulders. He steps up to you and wraps it around your shoulders, holding it tightly against your chest, the bottom of it grazing your knees. It smells of the rain, the pines that surround you and faintly of some kind of organic soap - it was heady and impossibly him.

His eyes meet yours as you sink into the warmth of the jacket, the heat rolling off him despite not being wrapped up any more. You can see his little freckles, the ridges of his golden skin, the soft brown, almost amber glint to his eyes.

Your breath catches, but he finally steps back, stooping to pick up the torch. Placing a gentle hand on your shoulder he nods behind you.

“Let’s get you home.”

You’re reluctant to move, your feet barely able to put one in front of the other as your mind reels but he leads you forward.

His hand never leaves you as you steer up towards the house. It isn’t until you reach the treeline that he hesitates, his large hands slipping from you. You turn to him, only for him to be mere inches from you.

If what you had felt like that Jimin before was a dream, the air that crackled between you and Namjoon was palpable, tangible and utterly undeniable. He lets his hand move to your face, cupping your cheek in his hand. Your eyes flutter shut at his touch, and only open again once you hear a sigh rumble past his lips.  

“Y/N…” he whispers, but his voice cracks.

“What is happening, Namjoon? What is going on with this damn forest?” Your words sink in, and he lets his hand slip from you as he looks away from you, face dropped slightly.  

He sighs, shifting the torch between his hands. You look down at it in his hands, but you feel your blood run cold when you see it.

It was red, dotted in a ridiculous amount of dinosaur stickers.

You snap your head up at him, face contorted in horror. His softened features harden again, eyebrows creased as he tries to read your face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Where did you get that torch?” Your voice is ice, and he almost recoils from you.

“What?”

“The torch Namjoon. I threw it at- I left it in the forest the other night. How did you get this?”

The blunt edge to your voice has him stepping back from you, and you can tell he’s floundering. His eyes dart over your face and his mouth flaps slightly.

“I found it-“

“No you didn’t, you went into the forest with a torch. There’s the one in your hand, and the pockets of this coat is fresh out of torches. So I'll ask again. How did you get it?”

“It’s not what you think.”

“I will find out what’s going on here.”

“And I will throw you in a cell if you keep pushing me.” He sets his jaw at you and you splutter, but when he doesn’t relent you scrunch your face, anger coursing fully through you. Could he even do that as a ranger?

“Fine.”

“I- what?”

You step forward, letting the coat fall from your shoulders as you hold your wrists out to him, eyes fixed on his.

“Lock me up.”

“You cannot be serious.”

“Are you? Gonna throw me in a cell, Namjoon?” You snap, and his mouth flaps.

“Of course not!”

“Then start explaining.”

“Y/N, I can’t-“

He stops mid-sentence, and his head snaps to face inside the forest. The confused anger that had seized you freezes in your veins as you follow his eyes, but you can see nothing in the dark.

“Nam-“

He holds up a hand to silence you, and although it infuriates you, something was obviously very wrong.

“Get inside. Lock the doors, do not leave.”

He looks back to you, swipes the coat off the floor and wraps it around you again. He must have noticed the concern in your face as he softens only for a second, his eyes searching yours.

“Please.” He whispers, desperation thick in his voice.

“... Okay.” You nod, stepping out of his grip.

With a nod he turns to the forest, and you watch as he heaves a heavy breath before pushing through the treeline.

Once you couldn't see him anymore, you turn and run as hard as you can, throwing yourself inside the door and throwing every bolt on it.

You begin to pace once again, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. Luna plods down the stairs, sleepily watching you make tracks on the floor. After a few minutes she gives up watching, resolving to settle on the couch and doze off.

You were still annoyed with him, and your argument wasn’t over, but something had him rattled.

After half an hour of pacing you finally relent, moving to sit with Luna. She relishes finally receiving your attention and stretches across your lap, but your stomach churned still. You let your fingers stroke her head as your other hand sinks subconsciously into the pocket of Namjoon’s coat that still hung over your shoulders.

Your hand hits something cold and you pull it out, only to realise that it was his phone. Panic ripples through you as you wonder what would happen if he needs help. You place the phone on the coffee table in front of you, infinite possibilities running through your brain.

You tried to push them from your mind - he wasn’t the chief ranger in the area for no reason. He would be fine, you knew it. You had to believe it.

Time ticket on, and the worry that laces your stomach was threatening to seize your heart too. You weren’t sure of how long it had been since you had seen Namjoon. An hour, definitely. Two, possibly.

You were debating on another round of pacing when Luna bolts up from you, growling and barking at the back door.

You jump to your feet, your gut telling you that it was about Namjoon. You shrug his coat on properly and pull the hood up ad you run to the back door and unlock it frantically.

Manoeuvring a still aggressively barking Luna away from the door you slip through, close it carefully behind you and begin running towards the trees.

The rain had stopped, but the air was still icy, and it was no better despite you pushing further into the trees.

Soon you begin to slow, doubt forming in your mind. What were you running to? You had no direction, no plan. No definite proof that you were running towards Namjoon at all, even if your gut was screaming at you to continue.

You slow to a stop, a small sweat beading on your brow but all of the hairs on your arms begin to rise. There’s something nearby, you know it.

You spin, straining your eyes in the darkness for signs of Namjoon, for anything.

A rustle of a bush nearby startles you, and you snap your eyes to it, your heart in your throat. The wind settles and the rustling stops, and you sigh harshly. You walk back slowly, realising that you shouldn’t have come, and turn to run. You only get about five feet before you see it.

Hunched over beside a tree sits the creature.

You gasp, but smack your hands over your mouth to stop the sound escaping, and you can feel the terror creeping through your system.

You can’t see what it’s doing, but it’s not looking at you. You could see its ears twitching on its head, and you realise you have a chance to escape. No matter what your suspicions may be, you don’t want to risk your life to be right.

You step back slowly, determined to keep it in your sight for as long as possible.

But the forest floor has other plans, and a well-placed root sends you flying to the floor, a sharp cry bursting from you at the impact.

The creature is on you in a second, towering over and you watching with sharp teeth bared, and finally you get a clear look at what had been terrorising you.

Despite all logic and reason, one word screamed at you. Werewolf. Your blood felt like ice in your veins as it glared down at you.

It stood on its hind legs, towering to at least eight feet. Its fur was so dark it was almost jet black, rippling over thick shoulders and arms. Its teeth were as long as your index finger, bared as a low growl rumbled from within. But the eyes were amber, deep, bright, and searching.

“If you’re gonna kill me just do it.” You whimper, your voice shaking.

The wolf eases back slightly, but it doesn't stop its low growl.

“Or are you not gonna kill me?” You ask, sitting up to look at the creature above you.

“Namjoon?”

It lets out a horrifying howl, loud enough to shake your heart and pierce your eardrums. You squeeze your eyes shut and cover your ears, the sound echoing off the trees.

“Do not look at me.”

Your eyes fly open and you stare at the forest floor. The voice was Namjoon’s, no doubt about it, but it also wasn’t deep and dark, and with an echo as if there were five people talking. You obey the voice, the blood roaring in your ears as you let your hands fall away.

“Okay.”

Your head snaps up to see Namjoon, filthy and completely naked with his hands are covering his front.

You stagger to your feet and stare at him. His eyes are still amber, his muscles rippling beneath his skin.

“What the fuck…” you mutter, your voice croaky and low.

His face is contorted, fear, anger and guilt all playing across his features. He moves to step forward but stops, a shiver rippling through him.

Without thinking you pull the coat off yourself and give it to him, averting your eyes so that he can put it on. You ignore the freezing night air that ruffles your tee, raising goosebumps over your skin.

“Thank you.” He says finally, the coat barely grazing his mid thigh. At last, you snap.

“What the fuck, Namjoon? What the actual fu-“

“I’m sorry, Y/N. You can see why I couldn’t tell you anything.”

“You’re a werewolf? Like that’s actually a thing and not some stupid Twilight bullshit?” Namjoon recoils at your words, his face dripping with rage.

“Please don’t mention that, those films are a gross misrepresentation!”

“Not the point!”

“It’s an actual thing, yes. The gene has been in my family for generations, we use it to protect the forest and town from other beings. These woods act as a border between this place and the next.”

“Other beings?”

“Jimin, for example.”

“Jimin? That would explain how- No! Not the point, Namjoon! It was you in the forest with me and Luna. It’s you that keeps sending her crazy!”

“I’m sorry. I never meant to scare you both. Sometimes I have to change - full moons. But during the rest of the moon cycle I have a little more control on whether I can change or not.”

“... Does it hurt?”

A small sad smile passes his lips, and he takes a tentative step forward.

“It can, if I'm not ready for it.”

“What are you protecting the town from?”

“Things a lot scarier than me.”

“Namjoon, tell me!”

“No. I’ve already failed to keep you safe so far! I’m not putting you in any more danger - especially as you constantly go looking for trouble.”

“Why are you trying so hard to keep me safe? I can look after myself.” You stare defiantly, taking an angry step towards him. His grip holding the cost together tightens and he angrily moves forward, sweat beading on his brow.

“Will you stop pushing it, Y/N? I care for you, okay?”

“Why?”

“Y/N, I can’t drag you into this!” He shouts, closing the distance between you but neither of you notice, too wrapped up in shouting at each other.

“I’m not a child, Namjoon. You can’t make decisions for me!”

“I’m not trying to! But there are things out of my control here and I am not risking you!” He shouts, moving his hands from the coat to gesture around you. “I need you to be safe!”

“Why me?” You shout, forehead creased as you stare up at him, his angry warmth spreading through you at the contact.

“Because I like you!”

Your mouth hangs open, and you finally realise you’re both pressed together, his coat hanging open and his crotch pressing into you - and you could feel everything.

“Namjoon...” you whisper, eyes meeting his.

The amber in his eyes glow, ragged breaths making his chest heave as he glares down at you. There's something animalistic about him, the way he watches you like you’re his prey. You swallow thickly, your heart beating wickedly in your chest. You could feel how worked up he was, the annoyance rolling off him in waves as he stares.

His hands are on you in a second, gripping your ass and lower back as he pulls you tight against him, crashing his lips to your own.

You gasp at the impact, but melt into his as he kisses you, angry, fiery and hot all at once. You sink your hands into his hair, rolling your hips against his cock that you could feel hardening against you. It felt big - bigger than anything you’d encountered.

He keeps a hand on your ass as he moved the other in between you, hand sliding under your sweats and panties, fingers immediately flying over your clit. Your eyes practically roll back at the friction, the angry speed Namjoon was setting making you sag against him. When your hips had barely begun to roll into his hands, he moves his finger down to press at your entrance. His speed makes you gasp against him, his mouth stealing kisses from your parted lips. The sound of his fingers in your wet slit was audible over the breeze that rustles through the trees, and despite the heat that burns over your face, it’s endlessly hot and judging by the groans from Namjoon’s lips, he agreed.

“Namjoon…”

“So wet for me, baby. All this for the big bad wolf, huh? I bet you taste sinful.”

He presses his fingers in slowly and you groan into him. He moves his mouth from yours and begins to kiss and suck his way down your neck, steadily increasing the speed of his fingers.

“Gotta prep you, gotta have you ready to take all of me.” He grunts, and you moan at his words and he growls them into your neck.

Two fingers pump into you as you lean against him for support, your hips rolling with every pump of his fingers. Satisfied with how easily his finger could move into you, he breaks away, amber eyes glowing in the dark as if he were bewitched. He slides the two fingers that were inside you into his mouth, and you hear a low growl rumbles from him. Heat creeps across your face as you watch him. He pulls his fingers out with a pop, his eyes transfixed on you, a fresh sheen of sweat dribbling down his brow.

“On your knees.”

You don’t think twice about it, sinking to your knees on the damp forest floor. He stands in front of you and you see just how big he is - thick with a plump head, fully erect and straight. A flicker of panic passes through you.

He grips your chin and tilts your head up to meet his face.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks. His voice is low and coarse, as if he was holding back. You nod in his hand, feeling your wetness soaking through your panties to trickle down your leg. Without a doubt, you did.

He’s on his knees behind you in an instant, fingers in your waistband and tugging your sweats and panties down as far as he can. His hand snakes up under your shit to grab at your breast, rolling the soft flesh beneath his fingers.

His breath is hot by your ear as your back is flat against his chest, his pants making your mind spin. You feel his cock teasing around your entrance, and slowly he begins to push in.

He’s big, and no amount of fingers could have prepared you for the burn as he pushes inside.

“Look at you taking my cock baby, so good, so tight. Gonna fill you so good you’ll scream for me.”

Your fingers grip onto his arm that lays across your breasts, nails digging into his skin hard enough to draw blood. He hisses into your ear before sinking his teeth into your neck, clamping down as he finally bottoms out inside you.

You can feel your pussy throbbing around him, his tip barely grazing your cervix. It was dizzying, Namjoon sitting fully inside you as you both kneel on the filthy forest floor.

“Move.” You whisper.

As if opening the floodgates, Namjoon reel back and slams into you - no gentle pace, no softness.

He whines into your neck as he hips slam against you, alternating between sucking and biting your neck. You faintly realise your neck is gonna be covered with marks from him, and as you hiss from the sensations that he blankets on your body, you know that you want more. You want whatever he can give you.

“You like me filling you up like this, huh? Want me to fill you more? Want to take all my cum inside, too?”

You cry out at his words as he angles you both down so that you’re on your hands and knees. You grip the ground for any kind of hold as he fucks hard into you, his stomach pressed against you and an arm propped beside you as his mouth hovers by your ear. Hot breath rolls across your throat as he bites down on you again, groans falling from him.

“Namjoon..” you wail as you shiver at his words, and he barks a strained laugh by your ear.

“Oh you like that idea? Want me to fill you and mark you as mine?”

“Yes yes, cum in me Namjoon. Give me everything.”

He growls into your ear, his thrusts hard and fast against your battered core. Your pussy squeezes down on him, and both of you let out a symphony of groans.

“Everything baby? What if I fill you, make you swell up with pups for me, huh?” He groans, his hips stuttering as he fucks you.

The image of him cumming deep inside where no one had ever reached, plump, carrying and heavy just for him wasn’t one you’d ever thought you’d be into. But as his cock grazes over your g-spot with each thrust, and the thought of him filling and breeding you like his play thing was all you could think about.

“God Y/N, so hot all swollen for me. All mine.”

“Joon…” is all you can manage.

Your fingers scrunch into the dirt below you, mud coming up under your fingernails as he fucks into you. He free hands circles around your throat, holding on as he rocks you both roughly. He doesn’t squeeze down hard enough to choke you properly, but just enough to let you know he’s in charge. And he was - you’d do whatever he wanted in that moment.

“Show me how much you want that, baby. I want you to cum on my cock before I breed you. Can you do that for me?”

The softness of his filthy words whispered in your ear coupled with the obscene sounds your pussy makes as he thrusts into your tight hole is almost too much. You whine but nod your head, swallowing a thick gulp under his hand that hangs around your throat.

You lift a hand from the floor and slide it down your body, moving it down towards your sore centre. Ragged breaths pass your lips as you begin to circle your clit, the feeling of Namjoon slapping against you and inside you sends eyes rolling.

“Close…” you whimper, gasping as you feel the tips of his fingers press into your throat.

The thick drag of his cock inside of you, the sharpness of the marks he was leaving on your throat and collarbone, the heady pleasure that spiralled from your touch on your clit, it was all too much.

“Cum baby, let me feel you. Clench down on my cock, show me how good I feel in you.”

With a final harsh thrust you scream out his name, your body jerking and rolling underneath him. Your orgasms crashes through you as your hand flies to grasp at his arm sitting on your throat, nails digging in as you ride through your orgasm. Whimpers and cries pass through you, and Namjoon lets it roll through you until your juddering stops.

“That’s my girl, taking my cock so good.” He whispers by your ear, his heat radiating through you.

His hips begin to move again, pounding at your weak pussy as he begins to chase his own high. Your sensitive core was still being stretched by the size of him, but it still felt good to have him pushing inside.

His hips became stuttery as he fucked into you, his hot breaths jagged by your ear.

“Gonna cum baby, will you let me knot in you? Give you all my cum and make you mine?”

“Yes, fuck. Yes Joon!” You squark, another orgasm building inside of you already.

Your hand flies down to play with your clit again, faster and harder than before leaving you whining and panting. As soon as you start clenching he lets out an almighty growl, and you knew he was about to blow.

Your orgasm is forgotten when his knot begins to expand inside you.

Gasping at the stretch, Namjoon moves his hands from your throat to card through your hair, letting his fingers tangle there as he growls into you.  His thrusts slow as his knot swells, and you whimper, your walls stretching almost uncomfortably around him.

“So good for me baby, taking my whole knot. Gonna pump you so full baby, wanna make you swell for me and carry my pups. You want that, Y/N? Want to be mine? So good to me.”

His rambling continues, getting breathier and breathier as hot cum shoots out of his cock and coats your insides. His head drops to your shoulder as his hips twitch, ropes and ropes of cum spurting inside you. His hips twitch as he pumps his last into you, and you had never felt so full, practically fit to bursting. You could feel his cum leaking out past his slowly softening knot, and feel yourself begin to drip out past his cock and down your legs.

The feeling of him pulling out of you and the cum flowing out of you is obscene, but the soreness and the blush across your face grounded you.

Namjoon sits back on his knees, pulling you with him, your back flush against his chest. He plants soothing kisses over the bites on your neck and shoulder, the tip of his tongue tracing the deeper bites.

“So good, Y/N, fuck.” He whispers, lips placing soft kisses below your ear.

He slides one of his big hands to your inner thigh, and pulls it up to see a string of cum stretching across his fingers. He sighs, the breath rolling down your neck.

“We can’t have this escaping, can we?” He groans.

Tangling one of your hands in your hair, he slides the other back to your core, gathering up the cum still leaking from you on his fingers.

Slowly he presses two fingers back inside you, curling them inside you as he pushes his cum back into you. You gasp, and with his fingers in his hair he turns your head to look at him, watching you get worked up on his fingers.

“You look so good with me filling you up. I’m gonna need you to ride me next time so I can see your face.” The smirk spreads across his face as you stare at him, your vision hazy as his fingers begin to piston inside of you.

“Next time?” You strangle out, meeting his gentle amber-brown eyes.

The squelching sounds of his fingers inside you are outrageous, a blush spreading across your face. Namjoon watches in delight as it spreads down your throat, a small laugh bursting from him. He lets his thumb flick out across your clit, and soon you’re seeing stars. Unable to keep your eyes open they slam shut, your body rolling back against him, his fingers still tight in your hair.

“If you’ll let me.”

“Y-yes, always. Fuck, there!”

With a final few pumps of his fingers and a flick over your clit your hips roll into his hand, your orgasm riding through you as you buck. Namjoon lets his fingers still, plugging you so that no more cum leaks from your sore and sensitive core. He pushes the leaking cum back in you a few more times before he slides them out of you.

You open your eyes groggily to find him staring down at you softly. He moves his hand up, and you look at it to see his fingers dripping with both of your juices.

You grab his wrist and manoeuvre his fingers into your mouth, eyes shooting up to meet his as you suck them clean. You let your tongue swirl around them as you swallow down the salty substance, eyes never leaving his stricken expression.

A low growl resonates in his throat, his eyes greedily watching your mouth.

“Fuck, be mine, Y/N.”

You pull his fingers from your mouth with a pop, smiling sheepishly up at him. There was no trace of amber in his eyes, just the deep chocolate you had grown fond of.

“Are you asking me out?”

His face suddenly drops all hints of smugness, his cheeks bursting with red as he looks away from you briefly, holding you tight against his warm stomach. Shy, despite the lewd things he was just whispering in your ear and how he fucked you on the soggy forest floor.

“Yeah, I mean, if you’ll have me.” He mumbles, and a laugh ripples through you.

“Yes Namjoon, I’d love to. Though I didn’t expect you to ask like this…” you say, gesturing to you both kneeling almost fully naked on the mulchy floor.

“Oh! Right.”

With a final few pecks across your tender neck, he pulls both of you to your feet. He finally releases you and the cold latches onto you. You shimmy your sweats back on, ignoring how they stick to the insides of your legs.

Your arms raise in goosebumps as you finally reacquaint with your surroundings and the lack of Namjoon's super warm body heat to keep you cosy.  

He shucks the coat back onto his shoulders but moves forward and wraps his arm and the coat around you, and slowly begins to steer you back up to where you imagine the house to be.

“We should probably chat when we have a minute. I know you have a lot of questions.” His fingers clench a little on your shoulder, but you run a hand up and lace your fingers with his.

“I do. But I’m not going to be scared off.” He smiles down at your words, pressing a light kiss to your lips.

The walk back is slow, but you don’t mind. Namjoon was like a walking radiator, and you relished in it on the way back. Your mind begins to race with all of the questions you could finally get answers for once you were back inside your house, but Namjoon stops dead.

“Joon?” You whisper. You don’t know why, but something felt very wrong.

You look up at him, but his eyes are transfixed on the trees beside him. He untangles himself from you, turning his body away and pulling you against his back. You try and peer over his shoulder at what he was focused on, but your human eyes could make out nothing.

“What are you doing in this part of the forest? You’re not supposed to be here.” Namjoon bellowed, his voice deep and angry.

Spurred on by his words, out from the trees creep three looming figures.

You strain your eyes, watching as they emerge - only to be faced with three werewolves.

Namjoon tenses in front of you, and you watch in horror as the three of them fan out. Your blood runs cold as they watch you both, snarls thick and loud over the growing wind that howls through the forest.

Three werewolves. The biggest stood in the middle, a mottled grey and black creature with a crooked nose and wild eyes. The second smallest was an ash grey, it’s teeth bared and feral, stood panting, coiled, looking ready to spring. The smallest -but still standing much taller than you- was a dingy brown, it’s low growl almost as feral as a hyena’s.

“Namjoon. I knew you would be lurking around but I didn’t expect you to look like… this.” The biggest wolf rears to two feet to watch you, it’s voice a distant echo and a nearby nightmare all at once.

“What are you doing here?” Namjoon barks. If he was afraid, he showed no sign of it.

“Forest’s not safe any more. Something dark… it doesn't matter. Who's your friend?” The biggest wolf leans back on his haunches to glare over Namjoon’s shoulder, peering down into your face.

You tried to stand your ground and glare back, despite the terror that seizes in your chest.

“Is this your mate?”

“Mate?” You mumble, but Namjoon doesn’t respond.

“You do know how to pick ‘em.” The biggest snarls.

Namjoon reaches his hand behind himself to knot his fingers in your shirt, keeping you by him.

“You have one chance. Get out of my forest, or face the consequences.” Namjoon stands his ground, chest puffed as he glares down the huge creatures.

“We told you-“ the small dingy one growls.

“We can’t go back, young wolf. There’s something in the forest… we’re not risking our lives. So get out of our way, or you and your mate won’t see tomorrow.”

A snarl rumbles from behind you, and you spin out of Namjoon’s grip to come face-to-face with the middle wolf. You hadn’t realised that he has snuck from the group, but as his rancid breath rolled across your face and spittle drooled from his mouth, you could tell what his intentions were.

You could feel Namjoon moving behind you, letting out a sharp cry of anguish that deepened as you felt him grow behind you.

You wanted to turn, to see him change, to warn him away from a battle with these creatures, but you couldn’t move. The wolf that was in front of you pressed closer into you so that he leered down at you, the tips of his fur brushing your arms.

“Get back.” You growl out, but your voice wavers, fear thick in your throat.

The wolf above you simply glowers, and you swallow hard as he begins to press you in. It raises a meaty paw, dragging back to swipe at you, but in a flash the wolf is sent careening back, it’s body slamming into a tree ten feet away.

You spin, shock flushing hotly through you. You turn to see Namjoon standing behind you, fully transformed and wolf-like. His broad chest heaves from exertion, casting you a quick glance before he turns back to the other wolves.

Growls echo off the trees, the dark air rippling with an aura dark enough to feel tangible. Retaliation was imminent, and you don’t know if Namjoon is able to take on two feral creatures.

They waste no time, the two wolves jumping at Namjoon. You stagger out of the way, a mass of growls and bodies flying at each other. You watch helplessly as the wolves snap at Namjoon where they can reach: neck, ankles, limbs, whatever they could tear at.

He gives as good as he gets, slamming into them with all his might. Namjoon was broad, holding a lot of power in each swing. But he was outnumbered, and you could see how desperate they were by how scrappily they were attacking. You realised that if Namjoon was going to win this fight, he wouldn’t come out of it whole. He needed help.

You keep casting paranoid glances back at the wolf that still sat slumped against the tree behind the carnage. Dropping to the floor and scrabbling around in the mulch, you find a fist-size stone and launch it into the tussle. It slams into the smaller wolf’s back, making him yelp at the impact.

It whips its head back to you, a blood-curling howl falling from its lips as it tries to break free from the fight and head straight to you. You scuffle back up over tree roots and craggy rock outcrops, your blood running cold as it’s beady yellow eyes follow your movements.

It speeds up, charging at you full tilt when it crashes to the floor beside you, Namjoon’s body pinning it down. You cry out as you slip to your feet on the muddy floor, his face level with yours.

“Y/N, get Hoseok!”

You barely registered his deep voice as the big wolf throws himself at Namjoon, pulling at his long ears awkwardly to pull him off the other wolf. Namjoon lets out a deafening cry. Without thinking you jump to your feet and slam your boot into the creature’s eye, sending the heel straight into his eye. It releases Namjoon just long enough for him to get to his feet and wrestle both the wolves underneath him, into his grip.

“Why?!”

“Get Hoseok!”

“I can’t just leave you!” You wail, watching as he fights to keep control as the two wolves bite viciously at his grip.

“Y/N, please!” He almost screams, the desperation in his voice thick despite how un-Namjoon- like he sounded.

You stagger back and watch, fear tearing at you as you watch him struggle. His reactions were getting slower, and patches of blood grew thicker along his body.

Nodding dumbly, you ignore the tears that prickled at your eyes, staggering uphill to where you desperately hope your house sat sleepily despite the chaos that sat outside its warm wooden walls.

“Namjoon, stay alive or I’m going to be really fucking angry!” You scream over your shoulder, desperate for him to heed your words.

The cacophony of growls, whines and howls of pain soon drifted away until all that surrounded you was suffocating silence as bone-chilling cold. But you ignored it like you ignored the bile that wanted to rise in your throat, the same way you ignored the way your heart was beating so erratically that you feel like it would burst from your chest.

You pushed the pain that burned in your legs to the back of the mind as finally, the edge of the treeline was visible. You let out a grateful sob as you stager out from between the trees, throwing yourself up the veranda steps and stumbling inside.

Luna jumps up off the sofa with a bark, and upon seeing you, runs at you, tail wagging excitedly. You absently pat her head as you carefully sidestep her and run to your grandma’s landline, stumped as you stare at the number pad.

Hoseok. How the hell were you gonna get hold of him?

As if a light flickered in your head, you drop the handset and jump over the sofa to get the coffee table, snatching up Namjoon’s phone and unlocking it. Thankfully it didn’t have a passcode and you began scrolling through the numbers, stopping on Hoseok’s name and slamming dial. Your skin prickled as you warmed inside the house, you sodden tee and sweats holding the cold against you.

He picks up after the second ring, and you could tell he was anxious.

“Joon, where are you?”

“Hoseok, it’s Y/N-”

“Y/N? Is he with you?”

“He’s in the forest by Grandma’s there’s wolves- he’s fighting- he’s not gonna last Hoseok!” You bellow down the phone, your eyes slammed shut to keep back panicked tears.

“I’m on my wa-” He doesn’t finish his sentence before he hangs up.

You know you need to wait, to get Hoseok and show him where Namjoon was. He obviously knows about Namjoon’s shifting as he didn’t refute a word you said. Was he one too? Or was he trusted?

Either way, you weren’t going to wait. You couldn’t.

You run to the back door, telling Luna to stay put - but you stoop to grab the baseball bat. You fly from the house once you had safely shut the dog inside, storming out into the night and heading through the same patch of trees that you emerged from.

Panic gnawed at your gut as you stumble over roots and broken branches. You put all your faith in your gut, hoping you manage to stumble into Namjoon once again. But you were stumbling wildly around, the only gut feeling you had was a sensation to just run.

You don’t make it much further as you’re slammed into the ground, the bat rolling from your hands and out of reach. A heavy weight sits on your back pressing your body painfully into the sharp and craggy ground.

You struggle round and try to gasp in breath, only come face-to-face with the wolf Namjoon had knocked out earlier. You try and recoil as it presses your face to yours, it’s beady yellow eyes glaring into you.

“Hello again, Namjoon’s mate.”

“Mate?” You reply dumbly.

The wolf throws its head back to laugh, and you take the chance to look for the baseball bat. It’s still nearby - near enough for you to reach. You just needed to survive long enough to grab it.

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy eating you, human.”

“Aren’t you a human too?”

“What?”

“You’re a werewolf too, right? So aren’t you a human too? Isn’t that cannibalism?” Your voice comes out light; very light considering you had a seven-foot wolf crushing your body into the forest floor.

The wolf tilts its head as it looks at you, a line of drool escaping from its mouth and pooling on your shoulder. You hold back a cry, carefully walking your fingers out across the wet floor as you begin to subtly reach for the bat.

“I was human, long ago.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t tell my food my life story. Do you?”

You choke on your words, the wind picking up and rustling through the forest. The wolf’s fur billows, and you use the volume of the wind to carefully smack your hand around. You graze the smooth wood of the handle, and you gasp before you can help yourself.

The wolf reads your face and scans around you, only to see the bat millimetres from your fingertips. It stares back at you and growls, and the fear that shreds through you is almost crippling.

You force your body against the weight pressing down on you, and with all your might, throw yourself towards the bat. You wrap your fingers around the base and swinging it up as hard as you can, aiming for wherever you could hit the wolf.

A huge blust of wind -bigger than anything you had felt- blasts through the woods, sending the wolf flying away from you, slamming against the forest floor with a sickening crunch. You watch in confused horror as it slowly begins to stagger to its feet when another rush of powerful wind blows through, pulling up roots from the floor and wrapping themselves around the dazed wolf.

You stare around confused, only to see Hoseok stepping through the trees, hands gently cupped and pointing at the wolf.

“Y-you?” you stammer, watching with wide eyes and even wider mouth as Hoseok drops his hands. The wind drops immediately, resuming the softer breeze that had been there all night.

“Are you okay?” He asks, reaching out a hand to pull you up. You eye him cautiously before you take his hand and get to shaky feet.

You wobble to the baseball bat and pick it up, gripping the cold wood tightly.

“I nearly had it!” You blurt, waving the bat at him.

“We don’t have time for nearly. Where are they?”

You let the bat drop by your side as you pause, letting your gut take over. You knew he was nearby, and you didn’t have any time left to waste.

“This way.”

Hoseok barely has time to register your words before you’re careening through the trees. He’s hot on your heels as you begin to sprint, as soon enough, howls could be heard echoing through the trees.

You slow as the sound bounces, unable to pinpoint where it is coming from. Hoseok doesn’t slow, barrelling past you and through the trees. You do your best to keep up, the heavy reverberations of your feet hitting the floor coursing ache through your body.

Finally you see them - a flurry of fur and red.

Hoseok sweeps into the areas and throws his open hands out at the wolves, sending them flying in different directions.

Namjoon stumbles to his feet, dark drips falling from his body. He casts a quick eye over you and Hoseok before zeroing in on the wolves across from him. He rolls his neck and hunkers down, ready to go again. The other wolves aren’t in a better state - though the bigger of the two seemed to be held together by pure malice. His eyes were locked on Namjoon, and Namjoon alone.

After that, it was a free-for-all.

Namjoon staggers wearily to his feet, only to charge at the biggest, tackling him and wrestling him to the floor. Hoseok charges at the other, lifting debris from around him and hurling it towards the limping wolf.

All you could do was watch.

The smaller wolf manages to break from Hoseok’s storm and makes a run for it, vanishing between the gnarled roots that littered the frost floor.

“I’m going after him!” He bellows before darting after the wolf.

You spin back to Namjoon, hesitantly watching as he fights back the remaining werewolf, holding it back from snapping at his neck. He lands a heavy punch, sending the wolf staggering back. It looked positively feral, it’s orange eyes narrowed slits and it’s mouth practically frothing. It had its sights set on Namjoon, and it wasn’t going to stop until one or both of them were dead. And it looked like it wouldn’t take much.

In the time that you had been gone, Namjoon was soaked - sweat or blood, you couldn’t tell. It was matted into his jet black fur, and with the way he heaved breaths in and wobbled on the spot, you knew it wouldn’t be long.

The wolf gets under Namjoon, taking his feet out from below him and slamming him onto his back. You hold in a gasp as you watch on in horror. The wolf presses one foot onto Namjoon’s chest and the other across his throat, pressing down hard.

Namjoon flounders undeath the wolf, arms flailing to get a good purchase. The growls that ha once clouded the area had stopped, the only noise gargling from Namjoon’s constricted throat.

“You should have let me through, little wolf.” The big wolf snarls glaring down at Namjoon.

It opens its mouth wide, heading for Najoon’s throat, and you finally find yourself able to move, no longer willing to stay petrified in fear.

You run forward and scream bloody murder. The wolf swings round to look at you, only to be smashed across the face with the bat. A high-pitched wail flies from it and it crashes to the floor, eyes rolling to the back of its head.

Once you were sure it wasn’t going to get back up any time soon, you spring to Namjoon’s side and cautiously kneel down beside him.

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he catches his breath, his eyes screwed shut.

Finally he looks at you and you want to flinch from his intense amber gaze but you gold your ground. He moves a big hand to cup your face, the paw almost as big as your head.

“Hoseok?” He croaks, and you nod in the direction he ran off into.

“I’ll watch the wolf. Go.”

Namjoon nods once at you before staggering to his feet and limping after Hoseok. You stand too, moving to hover over the big wolf, baseball bat levelled at its head in case it dared move.

It didn’t, but the minutes ticked on silently.  

You tried not to look at the unconscious creature at your feet too much, careful not to get sucked into your fears and worries. It’s teeth were huge, it’s jaw wide, and it’s claws deadly. How was Namjoon still able to stand after facing off with two at once?

Shuffling can be heard, branches snapping and a low murmur. You spin to the sound, bat reared and ready to swing. But through the trees stumbles Hoseok dragging an unconscious wolf. You scan behind him, ice running through you as you fail to see Namjoon. You wait, rolling onto your toes to peer between the trees.

Finally, mercifully, you see a messy head of honey hair appear between the trees, and a once-again naked Namjoon staggers into view.

You throw the bat as you run, launching yourself at him and wrapping yourself tightly around him. He sways under your grip, and you pull back with damp eyes and take in his appearance.

Your hands cup his face, slightly swollen on the left but not too bad. The rest of his body though… he was littered in bites and scratches, blood and sweat slowly drying on his weakened body.

Hoseok pulls off his coat and throws it to you, and you shout your thanks as you help Namjoon pull it on his body. He winces as he moves his arms back, and grunts as the weight of the coat presses down on his injuries.

Sliding under his him, you sling his arm across your shoulders and take some of his weight, walking him slowly towards the house.

“I’ll take Namjoon back to mine and patch him up. Will you be okay?” You shout to Hoseok, watching as he dumps the werewolf he was dragging by the other.

“I’ve already made a call. I’ll have some help in just a minute. Look after him.” Hoseok nods, a wide knowing smile stretching across his face.

Namjoon offers him a weak wave as you both move towards the house.

He leans more and more weight on you, but you struggle on.

“Joon? Stay with me, stay awake.”

“Joon?”

“Oh, I guess it’s kinda stuck.” You laugh, heat cropping on your cheeks.

“I like you saying it.” He slurs slightly, and you tighten your grip.

“So Hoseok… what is he?”

“That's- ah, that hurts. That’s for him to say.” You shift your grip slightly and sigh, but catch him grinning at you.

“You’re no fun.”

Mercifully the house soon comes into view between the trees, and with a huge amount of your remaining energy, you manage to get him up the steps and swing open your door.

Luna is already on her feet and waiting, and as soon as she sees you both she begins howling. She runs and licks at you both, tail wagging so hard her butt shakes.

“Hey girl, sorry I scared you the other night.” Namjoon smiles weakly, slipping from your grip to scratch at Luna’s head.

“Come on, bathroom.” You say, grabbing his free hand and gently tugging him up the stairs.

He’s slow, but he makes it. Once inside you shut the door and throw on the light making both of you groan at the brightness. Having been outside all night was really starting to play with your senses.

You push him to sit on the closed toilet whilst you gather things to clean and patch him up with. He watches you run around, eyes half closed and dreamy.

You kneel down in front of him, damp towel in hand. He smiles tiredly at you, dimples proudly on show and eyes heavy-lidded. You could feel your heart almost stop. You could look at him like that forever.

Forcing yourself to move, you shuffle between his legs and help him push off the coat on his shoulders, biting your lip with each wince he gives. Naked once again, you begin to dab the towel over the areas of dried blood and sweat that pools on him. All you needed was for him to stay awake - you weren’t sure you could drag his heavy limp body anywhere.

“So, does this make me a furry?”

He chokes out a laugh, eyes examining your face as you slowly clean him. You make light work across his stomach, slowly working your way up his broad chest and to his shoulders.

“Only if you want me when I’m a wolf. You should see my dick then-“

“Namjoon!”

“What? I thought we were trying to work out if you’re a furry!”

“Don’t talk about your wolfie weenie-“

“My what?!” He laughs, leaning back against the wall.

You have to kneel up and lean in between his thighs to reach his shoulders, your head level with his chin.

You look up at him, your towel stilling on his chest as you meet eyes. He smiles softly at you before he leans down and captures your lips with his. His kiss is gentle and slow, like a reawakening.

Placing your other hand firmly on his chest you push him away, trying to appear stern.

“No, not now. I can't have you bleeding over my grandma’s bathroom.”

“Okay, not now. But there’s a chance for more kisses later?” He asks, eyebrow raised. You laugh and shake your head, rinsing off the towel and bringing it back to his body.

“You’re ridiculous. You want kisses when not long ago I didn’t know if you were even gonna…” you trail off, not willing to vocalise your fears about losing him. You couldn’t.

“Shh, hey, come here.”

His hands cup your face, bringing you level. He dots kisses over all the skin that he can reach, thumbs rubbing soothingly across your cheeks.

“I’m not leaving you, Y/N. I only just got you.”

You nod in his hands, pressing forward to kiss him again. You’re careful when you press your body flat against him, not applying too much pressure but touching as much of him as you could.

He kisses you back, the heat between your growing. You let your hands knot into his hair, fingers tugging through the wind-tangled strands.

It’s not long before you feel him growing hard against you, and you pull back from the kiss to glare at him.

“You’re getting hard? Now, seriously?”

“I can’t help it! You’re hot and I'm turned on. If anything, it's your fault.” He smirks, shrugging his shoulders at you.

“I’m not touching anything until you’re patched up, Joon. And even then! You need to rest.”

You force yourself to get to your feet, slipping out of his warm touch. You throw back the shower curtain and turn on the taps, hot water shooting out of the showerhead and collecting in the bathtub, slowly draining away. You crack open a window as steam fills the room, making your filthy clothes stick tighter to your skin.

You hold out a hand to him which he begrudgingly takes, letting you help him to his feet and climb carefully into the shower.

He practically melts under the warm spray, the water cascading down his golden skin. You watch in awe as the water dances across his chest, washing away all the excess grime that clings to his skin.

You turn him gently, dabbing at his back and gently scrubbing away the dried blood and dirt.

He practically moans at your touch, and you bite your lip so you don’t get sucked in. He was injured and he needed to be cleaned, you couldn’t go further than that.

But he grabs hold of your arm, tugging you softly to the tub.

“Come on, Y/N. I know what is still sitting between your legs. Are you still dripping for me?”

“Namjoon!” You squeak, but you let him pull you up into the tub, just shy of the shower’s stream.

“What? Am I wrong? It’s not like we had a chance to get clean.”

You slap his shoulder, and the smirk on his face turns to a wince. You gasp and step towards him to comfort him, dousing your clothes.

“Now you’re gonna have to take those filthy clothes off. I promise, no funny business.” He holds up his hands in a surrender motion, before reaching out and beginning to tug on your shirt.

He begins to try and lift it over your head, but he drops the shirt, hissing as his sore skin pulls tight. You sigh, brushing his hands from you and removing your sodden clothes and throwing them into the sink. The warmth that was sinking below your skin was heavenly, a feeling that you had almost forgotten.

Finally fully bare in front of his eyes, you want to hide. But he takes you by the hand, a soft smile on his face as he drags you under the stream and presses your bodies together, his eyes swimming with stars as he looks at you.

You kiss again, safe and warm under the hot water. You break apart and begin to splash water over yourself, and soon enough the grime was scrubbed away. Turning Namjoon around, you drop a chunk of shampoo in your hands and work it into his scalp, combing away all the knots with your fingers until it was soft and clean. You tapped him back under the water and massaged it out, delight trickling through you as he shivers under your touch.

You turn from him and let the water run down your back, your temperature finally warm enough to let your body relax fully. You finally get to wash away the stickiness that had begun to dry between your legs, the memories of Namjoon making heat burst across your face.

Namjoon’s hands snake over your hips, pulling you flat against his chest. He lets his hands wander down to cup your slit. You gasp at the touch, grabbing hold of his arms.

“I thought you said no funny business?” You lean back into him and whisper.

“I’m just making sure you’re clean, baby.” His breath is hot on your ear and you shiver at the pet name, rolling your body against him.

He lets his finger run over your slit, water cascading over you both. He dips in, letting his finger run up you until he hits your clit. Swiping small circles there, he presses a kiss against the shell of your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth and tugging softly.

“All these marks… all mine…”

You turn your head as Namjoon trails kisses down your shoulders, bite marks and soft bruises welling over your skin.

“Sorry if it was too rough. Some of these look a little fierce.”

“Mmm, it’s fine.” You sigh, hips rolling as his fingers press a little harder on your clit.

His head lulls heavily on your shoulder, and you reluctantly pull his hand away from your body as you turn to face him.

“Sit, Namjoon.”

“Is this a dog thing?”

“Sit on the edge of the bath, you moron!”

You push gently on his shoulder as he sits on the rim of the bath, leaning back against the wall. He slumps, relief washing over him as he gets off his feet. You kneel between his legs, concern written across your face as you look up at him.

“I’m fine, honestly. My body is tired but my mind… it’s all you.” He smiles, fingers reaching out to tangle in your hair.

You surge up to kiss him, his fully hard length pressing into your stomach.

“I guess I need to find a way to keep your body awake then…” you smirk against his lips.

You let your hand trail to his cock, taking the thick member in your hands and slowly starting to pump him.

His face knots as he stares down at you, eyes meeting yours. You smile as you move your head down, licking a fat strip up the underside of him.

He groans and throws his head back against the wall. You smirk as you move to sink your mouth over his tip, but stop, worry bubbling in your mind.

“Erm, if you get close enough to cum, will you, you know, knot in my throat?” You ask, eyes wide with worry as you stare up at him.

For a minute you think he’ll laugh at you but he doesn’t. He simply runs a hand through your hair and smiles down at you, that dimple you’ve come to adore popping out at you.

“No. I only did early because I was still pumped up from adrenaline and changed back to this form very quickly.”

You nod, letting him tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. Flashing him a smile, you lean down, hovering over his lip and giving it a small kitten lick across his slit. When he’s fully leant back against the wall, you flash him a grin and sink your mouth over him, taking him as far as you can go.  

He releases a string of curses as you hold him in your mouth and slowly start to pull off him, thick cock making the corners of your mouth sore already. You flutter your eyes up to him and wag an eyebrow, and he shakes his head.

“God, what are you doing to me?” He groans, fingers tight in your hair.

“Just checking you’re still awake.” You smirk as you pull off his length.

His next words are cut off as you slide your mouth over his tip, swirling your tongue over any skin you could reach. You pump a hand over the rest of his length, letting his moans hit your ears.

You pull off him with a pop and pump vigorously, watching as his mouth falls open at your work. His eyes are heavy, flicking between your hands and your face.

“Y/N…” your name falls from his lips like a prayer, louder and louder as you work him higher.

You bring your mouth back down, running your tongue along his tip. His hips roll slightly, utterly helpless under your hands and making you soak.

You reach down a hand between your legs and begin to rub at your clit, the water from the shower warm as it hits your back and cascades down.

“So hot…” he groans, watching as you grind on your hand whilst your other picks up pace.

You moan onto him, the vibrations causing him to suck air thickly through his teeth. Soon he’s practically bucking off the side of the tub, unable to take any more.

“Y/N, ride me.” He moans, fingers tugging softly in your hair. You pull off him and look at him with your eyebrows drawn.

“I don’t know, Namjoon. You’re not strong enough for that kind of thing…”

“Y/N, please, I need it.” He whines, and you roll your eyes.

“Sit in the bath. If you so much as move, I’ll leave you so high and dry you’ll forget your own name.” You command, your hands slipping away from your bodies as you kneel back.

“God, yes ma’am.” He sighs dreamily, carefully lowering himself into the bathtub.

The shower continues to pour as Namjoon sits on his ass, the stream just hitting in front of him. You move through the stream to straddle him, pushing wet hair out of your face.

“If you’re in any pain, tell me and I’ll stop-“

“I’d rather die-“

“Namjoon-“

“I wanna be inside you, baby, please.” You clench at his words, a groan falling from your lips.

You line him up, pressing him against your entrance as you brace yourself against his shoulders.

Slowly you begin to lower yourself, his thickness causing you to hiss. He places his hands on your hips, guiding you down without any pressure.

The drag inside you is pure pleasure and pain, a tight squeeze until he’s fully seated inside of you. You let out a breath and lean your forehead against his, getting used to how thick he is inside of you.

“That’s it baby, you take me so well.” He whispers, his eyes fluttering closed as he revels in you.

“Never had you pegged as a talker, Joon.” You mutter.

“There’s a lot you’re gonna learn about me- oh fuck!”

You cut him off with an experimental roll of your hips, pulling away from him to watch his eyes roll. Placing a hand behind his head on the edge of the tub you start your slow ascent, sliding almost fully off his girthy length before rolling back down, bottoming out once again.

“God, you fill me so good.” You mumble, setting a slow pace as you begin to ride him. He drags a lip between his teeth as he watches himself disappear in and out of you.

“Tell me baby, I wanna know how good I make you feel.”

“Want me to inflate that ego, huh?”

“Please baby, I’m injured.” He smirks at you, his eyes wide.

“Puppy dog eyes won’t work on me, Namjoon.” You clench down on him, and his fingers dig into your hips. “You’re not exactly a puppy.”

“Y/N, don’t make me beg-“

“Like a dog-“

I’m being serious! God how are you arguing when I'm sitting so deep inside of you?”

You chuckle as you roll your hips, picking up your speed. His hands move to your chest, rolling your nipples between his large fingers.

Your head rolls back at his touch, and a broken groan escapes you as he sits forward a little, taking a nipple into his mouth.

He swirls the bud with his tongue, and you knot your free hand in his hair, holding him steady as you ride him. His slides a hand to grab at your ass whilst the other tugs on your free nipple, a torrent of sensations that send you hurtling to the edge.

“Joon-“ you gasp, tugging him gently off your nipple to pepper his faces with soft kisses.

He slides his hands down from you other breast to brush teasingly over your clit. He doesn’t apply enough pressure, and no matter how many times you clench on his dick as you ride him, he doesn’t pick up his pace.

“Please Namjoon!” You whine, feeling every inch of him press teasingly against your g-spot.

“Tell me how good I make you feel.”

“Come on-“

“It’ll make me feel better baby.” He pouts, letting his fingers rub briefly across your clit, making you see stars.

“You make me feel so good, Joon.” You say a little awkwardly, but he moans, dotting kisses up your throat and jaw.

“So thick inside me. Want to cum all over your cock.”

“Mm, me too-“

“Want you to cum in me again, want you to fill my pussy up.”

He practically growls, seizing your lips with his as he bucks up into you, crashing his lips against your own. You kiss him back, leafing your hands through his soft locks as he pounds up into you. His fingers finally giving what you want and rubbing over your throbbing clit.

With a strangled cry of his name against his lips you come undone, bucking on him as pleasure rolls through you. Your walls clench down on him too, dragging his orgasm out of him. You feel him pulse inside of you, hot ropes of cum shooting out from him.

Both of you stay there for a moment, Namjoon firmly seated inside you as you kiss, slowly, sloppily.

He finally breaks away from your kiss to pull his softening length from you, and a trail of cum leaks from your sore pussy. Running a finger up your thigh, he grins sheepishly at you.

You sit forward and seize his hand, sticking the finger between your lips and licking it clean. He watches you with an open mouth, and once you pull him out with a pop, he sits forward and kisses you, tasting himself on your tongue.

“I could watch you do that forever. You’re incredible.” He sighs as he sits back against the tub, pulling you to lean on him.

You laugh, pecking lightly at his lips.

You sit carding a hand through his damp hair, eyes locked in a gentle embrace. He lets his hands sit on you back, rubbing small circles in your skin.  

Luna can be heard shuffling outside the door, yapping like a puppy. You smile, letting your head nestle into his neck.

“We should probably get out of the shower and let you rest properly.” You sigh, letting your breath fan over his chest.

“Yeah.” He says softly, but makes no effort to move. Luna begins yapping again, and you smile.

“Can you tell her we’re coming out?” You ask, and Namjoon chuckles, shaking you.

“I don’t know what she’s saying.”

“But you’re also a mutt-“

“Hey, that’s speciest.”

“Sorry, big bad wolf, I take it back.” You laugh, pulling back to smile at him.

“Hey Joon, what’s a mate?” You ask, and delight in watching his eyes blown wide.

“Erm… kinda like a girlfriend, I guess? But more, I dunno… Fated.”

“And everyone seems to think I’m your mate.” You say carefully.

“Yeah… I think it’s a smell thing.” He shrugs, but you could see the blush stretching across his face.

“I don’t mind, you know.” You smile.

“You- you don’t?” He stammers.

“No - but I think you need to take me on a date first, before we start talking semantics.” You smirk, leaning forward to press your lips back against his.

“Yes ma’am.” He grins, holding you tight against him.

“Good boy-“

“Hey!”

[ineverhaveanynormalfans]

Sacrifice

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Warnings: Angst, canon compliant trauma, mentions of rape Pairing/s: Emily Prentiss x OFC, Spencer Reid x OFC

Authors Note: I originally wanted to rewrite the end of season 13 episode 1, the wheels up speech Emily gives in it felt all wrong but Olivias narritive kept dragging me back a few episodes so here we are. This is total indulgence of my OC but I hope you enjoy it.

Word count: 4725 AO3

When Emily called to let you know she wouldn’t be home tonight you could hear the worry in her voice loud and clear. Grabbing your satchel and car keys you made your way to Quantico, stopping for a round of coffees for the team who you knew would be beside Emily in pulling an all-nighter. You wouldn’t have gotten any sleep at home anyway, the only time you seemed to rest was when Em slept in your arms and even that was broken and irregular. Unlike some of the others, you had personal experience with prisons, and you knew just how dangerous gen pop was for any member of law enforcement. Fury simmered not far below your surface that Spencer had ever been put in this position, a fury that was fuelled by the constant defeat of the teams' efforts to ensure the safety that should have been given to him as an FBI agent awaiting trial.

It didn’t help that the lawyer fighting for Spencer was shamelessly flirting with your wife at every opportunity. You’d caught her cosied up to Em on more than one occasion under the guise of discussing Spencer’s case. Realistically all Fiona Duncan was doing was speculating, and not very well considering how inept she had been in arguing for Spencer’s rights. A small part of you had smirked delightedly when Emily told you of her plan to go behind Fiona's back to a judge to try and do what Fiona should have done since day one. You weren’t proud of that part of you by any means and normally you weren’t the jealous type but Fiona rubbed you the wrong way and either couldn’t take a hint or was deliberately ignoring your attempts to get her to back off.

The rest of the day was a blur of coffee orders and food collection. They were making progress but time seemed to be speeding up and you all knew you wouldn’t get there before Emily had to meet the judge. Penelope was damn good and the prints you needed to prove Lindsay Vaughn had been in that hotel room in Mexico were almost within reach as you kissed your wife goodbye and begged her not to punch out what was sure to be an infuriating lawyer arguing against her in the judges' chambers. With the prints sourced and en route to the courthouse none of you could stay still and you found yourself in an SUV with Luke JJ and Penelope heading to the correctional facility Spencer was in, ready to act once the judge made her decision. Penelope had insisted you come, both Luke and JJ had access to the prison but she did not and was too wound up to be left alone for however long it would take her teammates to get him out of there.

The FBI plates ensured you a parking spot right outside the pedestrian gate to the prison and you sat in anxious silence awaiting Emily’s call and trying not to think about what might be happening to Spencer inside the walls of the building next to you. The news that the judge had agreed to his release came via a text to JJ that simply read ‘Green’. A gasp of relief was echoed in each of you, Luke and JJ springing from the car immediately and disappearing within the gates. Penelope was sobbing with relief and you had one hand in hers, squeezing and rubbing your thumb over her fingers while your other hand was clamped over your own face in an attempt to stem your own tears. Tissues were producers by both of you and you laughed as you helped each other dry your eyes and fix your make up. There was still so much to do to get Diana back, but the sweet relief had you on a cloud as you sat back in your seat, watching the prison for any signs of movement.

You still weren’t sure why you decided to tell Garcia about the kiss you’d shared with Spencer a few nights before he’d gone on that ill-fated trip to Mexico. You had been watching the doors intently as she worked on her laptop, no conversation was needed but it was almost like the approaching reunion demanded that at least one other person understood the context. You’d been writing to him daily, not wanting to take a visitation slot away from the team meant you’d seen him only twice since he’d been in there and neither time had allowed you anything near the proximity you’d shared that night. You’d brought him over take out from his favourite Thai place, taking the few hours between his mom going to sleep and his eventual submission to his own tiredness as a space for the two of you to explore the spark there was between you.

So far only Spencer and JJ knew of yours and Emily’s open relationship, and you didn’t think even JJ knew of the blossoming connection between her best friend and her other best friends wife. It was delicate, new and as precarious as a lit candle outdoors but you’d felt it the moment you’d met him and that last night you’d spent together he confessed he’d felt it too. You’d been hugging him goodnight just inside the door of his apartment, his face buried against the spot where your neck met your shoulder. For someone so averse to human contact he was holding on to the embrace a long time and you weren’t about to break it either. You had those butterflies that happen when something new, something good is forming and time seemed to stop as Spencer loosened his hold on you so he could cup your face and draw your lips to his. You had melted into the kiss, his lips moulding to your own as he walked you backwards until you were pressed up against the door. You’d moaned softly into the kiss then and he had responded with equal enthusiasm, his long fingers in your hair and at your waist. You had just run your own hands into his soft brown curls when his mom coughed in her sleep and sent you both springing apart like teenagers caught making out after curfew. Stifling your laughter behind a hand you’d waved goodbye to him as you walked down the stairs and out of his building.

Movement inside the gates caught your attention and you placed a hand on Penelope’s arm to alert her to the development. Climbing from the SUV you could see the three agents through the wire fence, matching looks of exhausted relief on their faces but none more so than on Spencer’s. You stood back as the final gate opened and he embraced Penelope. Spotting you hanging back beside the car but not wanting to let Penelope go just yet he held out a hand to you and the three of you merged into a strangely comforting side hug. Spencer pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and released you both so you could all pile into the large black SUV and head back to Quantico to find a way to rescue Spencer’s mom.

With JJ and Spencer gone back to his apartment to look for clues and the rest of the team en route to Lindsays location you sat nervously at the back of the bat cave and waited for news. Realising Mr Scratch wasn’t involved was a source of relief but as Cat Adams was explained to you by Garcia and you helped her set up the video link you found yourself praying that Spencer would be strong enough to get through being behind bars with the psycho bitch. You sat and watched nervously as the team worked and Spencer played Cats twisted game, Penelope periodically reaching for your hand when things got particularly dark. Twin lines of tears ran down your cheeks when she told him how Lindsay had dosed and raped him in Mexico and despite knowing that it didn’t fit the timeline of events he had remembered and was therefore unlikely to be true you still clung to Garcia and cried. And then suddenly it was just you and the technical analyst again, the team chasing down Lindsay and exposing Cat for the manipulative obsessed psycho she was. Tears of sorrow merged with those of joy when Diana was found safely and Spencer told Cat to watch him take his life back. You watched their reunion from a desk in the bullpen, the team needed their space, you’d have all the time in the world to hold Spencer later when this was all settled down.

You were all set to take a nap on Emily’s surprisingly comfortable office couch when an agent escorted Derek Morgan in, matching looks of confusion on your faces at the other's presence in the BAU unit chiefs office. You were laughing at a story about a bet involving your wife and tequila when she appeared at the door. ‘Derek Morgan, oh my god.’ The old friends embraced, and he ribbed her gently about upgrading both her job and her partner without telling him. He was filling Em in on a text he received from Garcia that sounded like a trap and set you all back on edge again. Heading back down to the break room you put on yet another pot of coffee and dreamed of the moment you could finally fall into bed with your wife and get some much-needed sleep.

Dishing out the coffee to the tired team who needed it a hell of a lot more than you did you retired back to Emily’s couch. Going home seemed like a rookie mistake, with the way this case was going you knew you’d end up back here for something so until you were leaving with Emily you were going to stay and make coffee and help. You had just closed your eyes when you were being shaken awake by a panicked Penelope and it took you both a few attempts to get on the same page. Something had happened to the SUVs the BAU was travelling in, none of them could be reached, none of them had called in in over 10 minutes now. You were fully set to run out of there and drive after them when she told you reinforcements in the form of Matt Simmons from the IRT were on the way. He knew the Scratch case, and even with four kids you were willing to bed he’d had more sleep than you and Penelope combined in the past week.

Scanning the dark road ahead for signs of anything out of the ordinary you let Garcia’s pleas for backup float over you as the SUV sped along the route the team had been travelling. You spotted the spikes first, and Matt slammed on the breaks, coming to a stop in front of them, looking further up the road you spotted two vehicles identical to the one you were in at odd angles and obviously damaged. There was one thing going through your exhausted brain as you flung yourself from the back of the SUV and ran towards the cars, ‘find Emily, find Emily.’ You passed Rossi who you could hear speaking to Garcia and Matt behind you as you frantically searched the first car for any sign of your wife. Luke was helping a blood-soaked JJ from the second car and you dashed past them to check it. She wasn’t there but Stephen Walker was, his neck at an unnatural angle. You knew him well, having been in the same field of work, albeit in different parts of the world. Emily had great respect for him and he’d been making progress with the case. You didn’t even notice the tears now sliding down your face as you tore your eyes from his lifeless body and continued looking for Emily. She wasn’t there and you were starting to panic.

Running down the road a ways you took in the scene lit by the headlights of your SUV and the arriving ambulances and police cars. She wouldn’t have been thrown from one of the cars, there was no sign of that, the crash looked to have been a relatively slow pace collision. You noticed something glimmer on the ground and leant down, turning on the torch on your phone for a better look. It was blood, fresh and there were a few more drops as you turned away from the crash site. They vanished in the middle of the road and it became crystal clear to you that Emily had left the scene in another vehicle and considering the state of the rest of the team and the presence of blood all the way back here you highly doubted it was by her own free will. Numbly you walked back into the melee of injured agents just as Rossi realised Emily was missing. Your head was spinning and the tears were soaking into your shirt. ‘She’s gone.’ You choked out, your voice cracking from emotion as well as exhaustion.

Pointing out the spot where you’d found blood to Matt and the police officers you took a moment letting all your grief, anger, fear and pain from the past 24 hours seep out of you in a wracking sob. When a paramedic tried to get you to sit down you composed yourself, agreeing to ride into the hospital with Rossi and the others and get checked out. Emily needed you at your best and right now you felt like you were like a phone down to its final 5%, liable to shut down at any moment. With Tara being rushed to the hospital and into surgery and Rossi having been knocked out by the crash you had no one to question about what had happened in their SUV in the moments after. ‘We’ll get her back kiddo, Emily’s made of strong stuff.’ You nodded along to Rossi’s words, knowing they were true but between the limited sleep of the past few days and the stress of recent events you just hoped she wasn’t going to crack under Scratches methods.

Spencer arrived at the hospital just as the ambulances did and he rushed to your side. ‘He’s got Emily, and we’ve no idea how hurt she is.’ You whispered as he held you tightly. You waited for him to break the hug, unwilling to deprive him after so many weeks locked up but when he did you sent him into JJ, she seemed rattled and needed him more than you did right now. You took a few breaths to try to calm the pounding of your heart and waved off the medic who approached you. You weren’t lying, you hadn’t been in the crash and even though you felt close to collapse you knew it would take too long to pick yourself back up again if you did. Spotting a vending machine you grabbed an energy drink and some off-brand health snack and forced yourself to finish both before going to find the others. Luke passed you, looking for Spencer and told you to go into Rossi who was alone in a room and obviously in pain. ‘You need to be treated Dave, where are the doctors?’ ‘No, wait, I need Luke and the kid first.’ They rushed in behind you and Rossi began giving them directions that were neither urgent nor making any kind of sense to any of you. Spencer muttered to Luke that they must have given Rossi something in the ambulance and was about to turn and go for a doctor but you stepped up between them and put a hand on each mans arm to stop them. You knew a coded message when you heard one, and you knew Rossi hadn’t been given anything yet. He nodded to you and you nodded back indicating you understood not to clarify verbally. You swallowed a laugh when he called them a pair of assclowns and the three of you walked out of the ER, all wondering what the hell you’d find in Rossi’s office.

You were relieved to see Spencer drove an older model car and hadn’t come in a Bureau SUV and after you climbed into the back you started riffling through your satchel, extracting a metal box from within the book you always kept in there. Luke and Spencer had begun to talk and you couldn’t risk that, not now. Opening the box you threw your phone in and thrust it forward between the two men, tapping their shoulders to get their attention. You took the earwig from Luke’s ear and crudely signed asking if they had more than one phone. When both men shook their heads you sealed the box and put it back in your bag, before turning back to their questioning faces. ‘The box blocks phone signal.’ Spencer caught on first and nodded but Luke was a harder sell. ‘Look I know you’re married to our unit chief and you worked with Emily in London but the only people I’ve ever known to carry a portable Faraday cage and homeland security and CIA. So which are you, Olivia?’ ‘You told me you were UK based, MI5?’ Spencer asked softly. Disclosing your previous status in British Intelligence went against a ton of guidelines and a very specific NDA you’d signed, only Emily as your spouse knew the full extent of your role there but you nodded to Spencer. ‘I was a liaison with Interpol, I’m technically still on their books and paranoia doesn’t vanish when you leave that kind of job. It’s like the military.’ Luke cut you off with a nod as Spencer pulled back out of the parking space and took off towards Quantico. ‘You never really leave.’ Luke said as he caught your eye and nodded.

Penelope was impressed with your Faraday cage, she had been ready to take your phones into one she’d gifted Rossi before you began delving into the locked drawer. Files upon files on Peter Lewis, Stephen really had been making progress, and you grabbed an armful along with the four others and went to find a free desk. When Spencer found the AH text and took off to the round table room you stayed close on his heels. He was right, Emily would never have let Hotch expose himself to help trap Scratch and from what you knew of Hotch through her you agreed that he never would have signed a text AH. Your brain glanced on a snippet of conversation you’d had with her about messaging apps and when Matt made the conclusion that Stephen, with a background in counterintelligence, could have constructed the entire text chain it burst into your brain fully formed. You’d used a similar breadcrumb trail to corner a suspected homegrown terrorist back in the UK sprinkling in one or two extra lures along with the main attraction. You were reading the messages through again and one word stood out. ‘What’s B-CAP?’ You asked and they turned in surprise, seemingly having forgotten you were sitting behind them. You weren’t offended, intelligence work was rarely done by bouncing theories off each other verbally, not outside a secure facility anyway and you’d been keeping quiet out of habit.

Spencer was obviously frustrated but when he hustled Matt and Penelope out to let him work on it you stayed put and the look in your eyes told him not to even attempt moving you. You’d stay quiet but you were not leaving, Emily needed you on this too and he wasn’t the only genius in town. He paced and spoke to himself as he worked on it and you let him. It was as obvious to you as it had been to Luke that he was experiencing post-traumatic stress symptoms, it looked different in everyone you’d seen with it but there were enough common indicators to make the deduction safely. Finding some blank paper you started working through the why of this message. What did he need, where had he been, profiling was going to crack this, you cling to that and pushed the thought of what Scratch might be doing to Em aside.

The book slamming against the window startled you as well as Matt and Penelope. ‘Sorry, I’m sorry, I should have seen it sooner.’ Spencer said to you and he dragged one of your pages of notes over and started circling words under the how column, drawing lines across your work, trying to keep up with his own brain. B-CAP was a hallucinogenic, your list on how Scratch did what he did and ‘WHY HONDURAS??’ scrawled along a margin had sparked the memory of iowaska tea and peyote. If Scratch was running out of ingredients for his mist it made sense that he’d be in Central America searching out alternatives. While Penelope and Matt took off to track down the churches that used iowaska you stayed back with Spence who was pacing Emily’s office much in the way you’d been doing while he was in prison. Closing the door behind you you sat down on the couch and motioned for him to come sit with you, your eyes pleading with him in a way you knew words wouldn’t convey even if you had the brainpower to summon them.

He needed to relax, even a little so when you wrapped your arms around him and drew him into a slouchy cuddle hug you ignored the look on his face that was questioning if this was the time, stroking his hair as you held him. ‘If I catch him I’ll kill him for this, I know I will.’ He mumbled into your chest as he laid his weary head against your shoulder and surrendered to the scalp massage. You felt similarly if you were honest, you wanted to put this bastard somewhere he couldn’t hurt any of you anymore and a grave seemed like the only place that would ensure that. His phone pinging from the table where he’d set it after Garcia and Simmons left, breaking the moment you’d managed to create. Spence read the text and his hazel eyes, so large in his prison thinned face met your tired green gaze.‘They’ve got his location.’

You hadn’t let him object, you weren’t even sure if he was going to and you slid into the passenger seat of the SUV as Spencer got behind the wheel and sped out of Quantico. You weren’t armed, you had no licence to carry in the States so your focus was on trying to ensure Spence and Emily got out of here alive. Bike rose in your throat as your mind drifted back to what Scratch was doing to her. Tara had seen her dosed with his chemicals, he’d suggested she was badly injured. If this went the way of typical torture strategies he would try to induce a near-death experience to get Em to give up Hotches location. Everyone agreed this might be what broke his hold on her. Emily hadn’t had the typical white light experience when she had almost died fighting Ian Doyle and the dissonance of a classic warm white light suggestion with her lived experience would give her the edge she needed to rip apart whatever fantasy Scratch had led her into believing. It was what happened after that that made you feel sick. What would Mr Scratch do when his drugs no longer worked.

The SUV tired screamed as you slid to a stop between the abandoned warehouses and Spence left the keys in the ignition, instructing you to stay with the car and send in backup when it arrived. Fear and exhaustion immobilised you and he was gone before you could delay him. Occupying yourself by keeping your ears and eyes open and mentally penning a letter to the FBI armoury about gas masks and nervously waited for more of the team to show up. Gunshots from inside the building did not help your resolve to stay put, but flashing lights and two more SUVs appeared just as you’d opened the door to get out. You shouted the situation to them and watched as Matt and Luke disappears through the door Spencer had gone in. Another shot ringing out sent you running for the door and you hugged the wall as you crept inside.

Footsteps were moving above you and you slowly made your way through the building. Movement around a corner had you recoiling and waiting for an indication of who it was. You really didn’t need to get shot right now, and you were considering how you’d signal to the team it was you and not Scratch when you heard Emily’s voice pleading with Spencer to stay with her. You’d whispered her name aloud without realising it and came face to face with the business end of Spencer’s gun before he realised it was you and quickly dropped it. You gripped his arm tightly as Emily fell into your embrace, pulling him in so she could hang on to him too. They were safe, they were both safe and here and you clung to them, scarcely daring to breathe in case the moment dissolved. Luke’s voice over the radio confirming that Scratch was down made you loosen your hold on the two agents, sliding an arm around Emily’s waist you helped Spencer get her outside.

Peter Lewis looked small lying dead on the concrete. Alvez was hunkered down at his feet when you approached with the others. ‘He fell trying to escape.’ Alvez explained. There was nothing else to say but you leant down and pressed your fingers to the exposed pulse point on his neck just to be sure. Em shook her head but gave you a small smile as you stood and returned to her side, she was well used to your paranoia. It was over, finally. One of the scariest people the BAU had gone up against was dead. Sirens in the background indicated the now redundant backup arriving and you took Emily’s outstretched hand and walked with them back to the vehicles.

Stephen Walker's funeral came a few days later. The entire team had been put on mandatory leave for 6 weeks and nobody felt like celebrating but a family dinner wasn’t always a celebration. You’d compromised with Rossi, it would be at his house but you were doing all the organising. It was a subdued affair, everyone was tired and clad in black and conversations weren’t the raucous joy-filled kind you’d come to expect from the team who were more family than colleagues. You’d never come across a team like them before, their strength and resilience astounded you and though you’d only known them a few months you felt as much a part of the family as anyone. It was the reaction to a late guest that showed just how close this group was. Spencer had been teaching Henry a similar card trick and you’d been laughing at Penelope trying to eavesdrop on the secret to the trick when Rossi reappeared from the house with a fresh bottle of red wine and accompanied by Derek Morgan and two faces you knew only from photographs, Aaron and Jack Hotchner.

Surprised and excited cries came from both the adults and children present, embraces and introductions were exchanged and chairs drawn up. Hotch wasn’t coming back to the team despite the threat from Mr Scratch being neutralised. He loved being a full-time dad and as you watched Henry and Jack excitedly catching up you understood, perhaps more than many of the others around you. You’d given up MI5 to move here with Emily. Spies and spooks didn’t just pick up with a new agency when they relocated, you’d known this was the end of that career but she meant more to you than the job. That had become crystal clear for you over the past week with the team, you’d utilised the skills working in intelligence had given you but you felt no desire to step back into that world. The warm hand in yours and the affectionate hazel gaze from across the table felt right and you were excited to see where this new chapter and this new family would take you.

[iambuckyrogers]

3 Nights... (Chapter 1/7)

Summary: After your friend bails on your trip to Australia a week before you were due to fly out, your best friend Steve swoops in and saves the day. Unbeknown to you, he’s harbouring the biggest crush on you, but will it get in the way of your holiday?

Word Count: 1325

Chapter Warnings: a few swear words

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Authors Note: Like 95% of my other stories, this has ties to my life and a holiday I went on recently with a friend from high school. It's VERY loosely based on a couple events that transpired and gave me inspiration for my first (published) series :) hope that you enjoy it, if you wish to be tagged in future parts send me an ask/dm and I’ll add you! Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated <3

*****

Steve took the stairs to your apartment 2 at a time, pressing the buzzer when he reached the top.

“2 seconds,” your voice floated over the intercom. Steve leant back against the wall and folded his arms. Crazy to think it had been just a week since you had rung him in tears, your best friend had bailed from your trip to Australia and left you all alone.

“I’m not letting you run off to the other side of the world by yourself,” he had said and offered to accompany you.

“Steven, I’m a grown woman I’ll be fine,” you argued though your voice betrayed you.

“No, you won’t. I worry about you,” he had admitted, heart clenching the moment he said the words. You had known each other for a couple of years, meeting through a mutual friend at a college party one night and ever since then, Steve had been completely smitten. Eventually, he had convinced you to let him go with you but, it wasn’t until after he hung up that he realised what a huge mistake he had just made. Now, he was stood outside your, apartment shifting from foot to foot as he waited for you. Not long later the door opened to reveal you struggling with 2 huge suitcases, a handbag and a smaller suitcase.

“Oh my god,” Steve sighed as he lunged forward to grab the door before it slammed on you.

“Well, I didn’t know what I might need,” you explained, your lips curling into a smirk. Steve simply shook his head, helping you to carry your numerous bags to the cab. The trip to the airport wasn’t long, checking in and clearing customs was surprisingly quick, so in no time you were stood at the gate waiting to board the plane.

“Thank you for coming,” you whispered, looking up to Steve.

“It’s my pleasure,” he replied, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, “besides, who will make sure you don’t do anything stupid if I’m not there.”

“Ha ha,” you mocked. The line began to move as tickets were scanned and people boarded the plane.

“Here we go!” you squeaked, eyes crinkling as you scrunched your face in excitement.

*****

After a stopover in Dubai, you were on your way again, en route to Brisbane, Australia. Steve was just drifting off to sleep when the plane shuddered and his stomach dropped. You grabbed his forearm, nails digging into his skin.

“I hate turbulence,” you whispered looking up at him, your eyes wide.

“It’s alright,” he soothed, prying his arm from your death grip and slipping it behind your shoulders, pulling you into his side. The plane bumped and jolted again and he could feel your heart beating erratically.

“Did I ever tell you about the time Bucky convinced me to ride the Cyclone at Coney Island?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well…” Steve told you about his childhood, all the stories that you hadn’t heard before in the hopes of taking your mind off of the turbulence. Sure enough, it worked, halfway through reciting his various childhood allergies he looked down at you and you were fast asleep. Carefully, he reclaimed his arm and settled into his own chair. He couldn’t sleep, just in case you needed him, but that was fine by him.

The rest of the flight was surprisingly smooth and you landed in Brisbane right on time. After collecting your bags from the carousel you made your way to the bus station to meet your connection to Byron Bay, a small coastal town a few hours south of Brisbane. The bus was pretty empty, there were a few other international travellers as well as Australians from other states. Despite there being plenty of seats you sat next to Steve, not a breath of space between you due to the closeness of the seats and Steves board frame, but he certainly didn’t have an issue. The bus grumbled down the road, unfamiliar scenery speeding past the windows but Steve didn’t take any notice, he was too entranced by the look in your eye as you took it all in. Like a kid in a candy shop, you looked out the window, your mouth agape in wonder. The bus entered a long tunnel, seemingly going on forever until finally, Steve could see daylight. You emerged and the city of Brisbane grew around you, buildings rising from the ground, certainly not as expansive as New York but impressive in its own, foreign way. You were still enthralled with the world around you, watching as the urban sprawl gave way to forests of greenery, lush tropical trees dotting the side of the road. After about an hour you roused Steve from a light sleep, tapping him frantically on the shoulder.

“Stevie look! We’re crossing the border-“ you paused for a moment, “now!” Sure enough, there was a small sign reading ‘STATE BOARDER. NEW SOUTH WALES” that flew past the window as the bus drove along. The unbridled joy in your face was enough to get Steve excited.

It was another half an hour before the bus pulled into the bus station.

“Welcome to Byron Bay!” the driver announced. You practically launched yourself out of your chair the moment the bus came to a stop. The first step outside the air-conditioned bus was suffocating, moist air enveloping you in a stuffy embrace. Every pore in Steve’s body simultaneously screaming for him to get back into the bus. He pushed on, collecting your luggage from the bus and meeting you under a nearby tree.

“Alright, so we’re here,” he stated.

“No shit Sherlock,” you laughed brushing a sweaty strand of hair behind your ear.

“What’s the plan, chief?”

“We walk,’ you grinned. You hadn’t organised to a hire car because Byron was so small, you were convinced you could walk everywhere so you opted to save some money.

“It’s only like a mile and a half to the accommodation,” you argued.

Not even halfway there, a wheel on Steve’s suitcase hit the edge of a curb and snapped off its axel, leaving him with one functional wheel and a whole lot of anger.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” He yelled, kicking his suitcase along the ground.

“You tell it Steve!” you jeered, earning a look of pure hatred from Steve. He forged on, half dragging the broken suitcase behind him, grumbling profanities. After trudging up and down a couple more hills you finally arrived at your accommodation, with all of your suitcases intact and an enraged Steve bringing up the rear. You took a moment to take in the sight before you. Atop a hill, nestled between tall palms and native shrubbery sat a small white cottage. A set of wooden stairs led to a veranda which wrapped around the front porch. A wrought iron daybed took centre stage, covered in floral patterned pillows it looked good enough to sleep on.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed out and Steve couldn’t agree more, it truly was as picturesque as it was described in the ad.

“Shall we take a closer look?” he gestured for you to lead the way. The inside was just as beautiful as the exterior. Painted in muted pastels of green and yellow, the topical vibe could well and truly be felt. Pictures of rich tropical forests adorned the wall and, like outside, floral pillows decorated the bed.

“Wait, there’s only one bed?” Steve noted, looking to you quizzically.

“Oh, I probably should have mentioned that me and Y/F/N were just going to share. Is that ok? I can always use the pillows to make a bed on the floor if yo-“ he cut you off quickly.

“No no I could never ask you to do that! We’ll make it work,” he assured you, while on the inside he was having a full blown panic attack. This was going to be a lot harder than he first thought.

NEXT CHAPTER

[riderdrauggrim]

In which my sheer ignorance brings in to question complicated security.

Story time!

So. My career is somewhere in the bracket of "Theatre Technician". That's live theatre, not film house theatre. With that said, the same union governs hands for stage, concerts, television, and film sets. You ever sit all the way through the movie credits and see a sort of five armed star with letters in the arms? IATSE, that's us.

So in the wide field of our abilities and skills, often we're hired as workers to set up and tear down concerts. Sometimes it's a global tour, sometimes it's a festival one-off. I had a call of the latter type on the morning of the 31st. The job was taking apart a set that had been constructed for a ball room Halloween event at one of the nearby casinos in Niagara Falls. Show up, knock it down, bin the garbage, shove the keepers in a transport truck, call it a day.

Reminder I'm a motorcyclist.

Now, I'd never taken a gig at this particular venue before, and that's what initiated the amusing chain of events. Typically I'll show up somewhere and scout around for employee parking or bike racks or a security guard to ask, and 95% of the time people point me to an alcove or some bike racks or beside a dumpster. "Just tuck it over there," they say, "it's so small we don't mind." Saves me the hassle of walking twenty blocks in my space suit at two in the morning, which is both exhausting and stressful.

I left early to give myself plenty of time to find out where I could park. I showed up at the building, and it is huge. Not just a casino, but a hotel, a food court, a mall, multiple stages, huge. So instantly I know there HAS to be employee parking for the several hundred staff that keep something of that size working... I just had to find it.

So I pull in the main drive and see "park yourself 5$" and "valet park 10$". Perfect, I'll just ask a valet attendant. Except it's 7:30am and there's no one around. Shoot. Okay.

So I double back and drive down the curving ramp to "Park Yourself". And this was where it got fun.

Unless you're a rider, or know a rider who has bitched about this, you might not be aware that typically the sensors that have to do with gate arms at things like parking lots are not sensitive enough to detect motorcycles. That "No bikes or pedestrians" sign is basically because the technology isn't good enough to tell there's a rider there, and it's cheaper to put up an elitist sign than update your system. (The same is true for intersections at 3am, Glendale Ave and 406 South exit ramp I'm looking at YOU.) We don't trigger the weight/mass/metal or whatever the hell is needed to alert the system to change. So if you ever pull up to a stop light with a forlorn biker who starts beckoning you to drive forward, they're trying to get you to trip the light detector so you can both go.

Back to parking! So things like this are one of the many reasons it's easier NOT to "Just go to the lot like the rest of us" on a motorcycle. So there I was, pulled up to the parking entrance gate, and the automated ticket dispenser is having none of my shit. It won't even turn on. I poke the big green HELP button and nothing happens.

Now I'm stuck, because option one is turning around and drive back UP the curving IN ramp and hoping there isn't a car coming, or option two, which any good biker hooligan would resort to - driving around the gate.

So I drive around the gate.

Now I'm inside the underground parking with no pass and still have no idea where to park. So I head for the exit before security comes screaming after me for cheating their gate system. The exit has a staffed booth! Perfect!

I pull up to the attendant and explain "Hello, I've never been here before, I'm supposed to be doing a set tear down for (company) in (room name) and I'm not sure where to put my bike. I couldn't trigger the gate arm so I don't have the parking pass." The attendant nodded sagely, replying "yah, bikes don't, I have to manually hold the gate open for them to leave. Let me make a call."

So the attendant scoops up a phone and buzzes someone and repeats my story. Biker here to work, where should they go. Person on the other side of the phone says "ask valet". Attendant calls valet. Biker here to work, where should they go. Person on the other side of the phone says "come back around to the front and someone will show them". Perfect! They hold the gate so I can leave and I exit and loop around the block back to where I started.

Except there's no one there. A limo. Some taxis. No staff... Oh wait there's a person standing at the curb with a red staff shirt. I putter over and say "Hello! Were you the one waiting for me?" His confusion was evident. I continued "I was just at the underground parking attendant, I'm here for a work call and trying to find out where I can park my bike." His confusion deepened. "Why didn't you park it there," he asked, perplexed. "The sensor arm doesn't let bikes in," I calmly responded. The gears turned, and rather observantly he asked "wait so then how did you get to the attendant?" "Oh. I jumped the curb," I responded matter-of-factly, because I am a motorcycle, and do things like that. This stymies him for a moment, but he looks around and asks "How long are you gonna be?" "The call said until one," I answered; It did, but that ended up being a dirty lie on the part of the company and we all almost missed Halloween. He waved down the laneway ahead of us. "See that sedan? Just leave it in front of that, as close to the fence as you can."

This is exactly what I'd hoped for. I thank him for his time and scoot over to the indicated location, mindful not to block the "No parking or you'll be towed" sign affixed to the fence. First hurdle complete.

Strolling in through the front doors I scan the lobby for some indication of where I needed to be. None of the signage indicated my destination, and that's when I spotted security at the inner doors to the casino proper. Taking a moment to remove my full face helmet to look a TINY bit less like a hired thug from a Mission Impossible movie here to pull a heist, I approached the guard and presented my story. "Here to do a tear down in (room), never been here before, where go." He amiably points to another hall, directing me down to the end, take a left.

I wandered off through the mall concourse, down to the food court, and there on the left was the signage I needed. Down another, much posher hallway until I found the room full of road cases and scissor lifts, took my gear off, met the crew chief, proceeded to work.

Some hours later...

I jokingly mention my ordeal in the parking lot to one of the other members on the call with me. "Why didn't you just go to the contractor's parking?" they asked me, confused. "The what now?" I respond, equally confused. "Contractor parking. It's around back. And it's free." Well here's the thing. I didn't park in the 'contractor's parking' because none of the three separate employees (Not counting the two more over the phone from the lot attendant) told me 'just go to the contractor's parking.' Five people who all presumably knew the building and its features and no one said "workers park around back" when I said "I'm here to work." But that's fine, because everyone was lovely and helped me and parking beside a fence is free too.

"Well then how did you get in?" my brother member inquired. "Through the front door?" I responded hesitantly, because that seemed a sensible answer. "Did you stop by security?" he continued. "No?" I answered, feeling a nagging unease. "Then how did you get your access lanyard?" he asked.

At this point I start looking around and realize that every other person there has a white plastic permit on a lanyard around their neck.

"I didn't?" I stated flatly. Because I didn't know I was supposed to. Because none of the employees told me. Because none of my coworkers told me. Shit.

"Oh man, well, they'll chase you down later. This is a Casino. Security is really tight here. You aren't allowed in this part without a lanyard."

Except I very much was. In that part. Without a lanyard. Oh well. At that point I wasn't about to wander off from tearing the set down to get lost in the labyrinthine underbelly of access hallways, nor was I going to waste another crew members time making them show me where to go. I'd just fess up when security finally got around to chasing me down. I'd go fill out the paperwork. I'd trade my drivers license for a work permit, and continue with the call.

Another few hours into the gig and two security guards walk up to me. 'This is it,' I think to myself. 'They're going to scold me for not having a lanyard.' One guard points to me. Or rather, the flat beside me. "Hey, we were wondering. If that's getting thrown out, can we have it?" My brain skips a gear as it tries to readjust. It was being saved for the company since it was a 'good' 4x8 flat with no damage. "Shoot. Any idea where we can get something like that?" They were referring to the brick texture later afixed to the front of the flat. I confessed I didn't personally know (I asked the crew head, apparently lumber supply stores). They thanked me for my time and wandered off. And there I stood. Lanyardless. But hey it wasn't so bad because I was obviously working, in this one room, with other workers.

And then we started taking materials to the loading dock, which meant winding through the access hallways, bland beige concrete and motivational posters on cork boards and warehouses of alcohol and kitchen supplies. Surely. SURELY NOW. Passing by facility workers and supervisors and maintenance staff. Surely someone will point at me and glare and say "You can't be down here without a pass!" And I'll flail and blurt out "I'm sorry! I didn't know!"

But no one did.

Not by 1pm. Not by 6:30pm when the damn miserable call finally ended. Not after the call when I put on all my gear, including my helmet, and walked back up through the concourse, just to test my luck, as people shot furtive glances at what must be a terrorist come to rob their winnings. Not when I wandered back through the front doors and got on my bike parked beside the 'No Parking' sign next to high-roller shuttles and executive limos.

And that's how my sheer lack of knowledge of facility protocol basically invalidated everyone else's strict adherence to the system.

Because if I could just wander in and wander around. Couldn't anyone? What good is everyone turning in their photo ID to keep the building locked down if one person -doesn't-. Not maliciously, mind you. A bit experimentally, perhaps. Wondering how long I could pull it off.

It just goes to prove the old adage that if you look like you belong where you are, most people won't question you, but in today's high tension, terrorism alert climate, I'm not certain that's a good thing.

And next time I'll park in the contractor parking.

*Locations have been intentionally omitted because I don't want to get anyone in trouble.

[demon-snacks]

Family Secrets Ch 2

Summary: You travel back to the bunker with Sam, revealing who you are on the way. Once you arrive it’s a bumpy introduction to his brother.

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Reader, Readers mother

Word count: 2,569

Warnings: Angst, mention of torture, a tiny bit of fluff

A/N: This was a pretty emotional chapter to write, ngl. It reveals the main details about the readers past, and it’s a rough one. The first chapter was rushed because I was anxious to just get it out there, but I took a little more time with this one. Improvement with progress, or something, right? Anyway, this one should be a little better (hopefully). Anything in italics that aren’t in quotes are the internal thoughts of the reader. Oh, and that one line where Dean calls the reader by a name is a reference to a popular  tv/movie/comic character. Also there’s no smut in this one. Hope y’all like a slow burn… I’m not sorry. 

Tags are open! If I follow you and your blog description says it’s cool to tag you in fics consider yourself in the mix

Unbeta’d Sorry for any mistakes.

Gimme that sweet, sweet feedback

Chapter 1 in case you need to catch up

Masterlist

25 years ago

“Momma, what’s happening?!” you pleaded with your mother to answer you, frightened by what’s going on around you.

Just moments ago you were sitting by the window, listening to the frogs sing their song from the swamp across the way. The night sky was cloudy, but you could still see some stars peaking through in random spots. You loved nights like this, when a slow breeze blows through the window, carrying the scent of warm summer flowers and damp moss. The flickering of lights shook you out of your imaginary thoughts. Hopping down from the chair you were nestled in, you walk the few short steps to the windowsill and peer out. The shutters suddenly crashed shut, causing you to jump back. Everything started happening at once. The shutters on the rest of the windows slammed shut, the walls began to shake, and you could hear the old house groan in defiance.

Your mother was suddenly by your side, taking your arm firmly as she pulled you away from the windows. “It’s alright sweetie, everything is going to be alright.” she tried to console you, but her actions and tone gave her away. Something was terribly wrong. You watched, stiff with fear, as your mother rushed to the old trunk against the far wall and began rummaging through it. Her movements were frantic, throwing its contents aside until she found what she was digging for. Pulling out an old blanket that had been embroidered with symbols, she rushed back to your side. “Keep this around you, it’s very important that you don’t take this blanket off, do you hear me (Y/N)?” she said as she wrapped the cool fabric around your shoulders. It was easily twice the size of your small frame, and pooled around your feet.

“I’m scared..” you choked out.

“I know sweetheart, but I need you to be brave. I know you’re brave, I know you can do this for me.” The words came quickly as she was pulling the blanket tightly around you, pushing the edges into your small hands. The next thing you knew she was pulling the carpet up to reveal the trap door underneath. Pulling the door up and open she hurriedly gestured for you to come over to her. “I need you to hide under here in our safe place like we talked about. You keep that blanket covering you, pull it over your head and don’t you come out no matter what you hear. Don’t make any sounds (Y/N), I mean it.” she said, gripping your shoulders tightly. You nodded, silent. “Auntie Maura will be here to get you in the morning, I promise.” she breathed. You could see tears beginning to spill down her cheeks. There was a banging at the door, as if somebody were trying to break it down. Your mother was suddenly crushing you into a brief hug. “I love you so much,(Y/N).” she whispered. Pressing a kiss to your forehead she quickly ushered you into the crawl space beneath the floorboards, closing the door and leaving you in darkness.

Present day

“I had to listen to them torture her. They took their time, savored it. They could have done it quick, slit her throat or something. Instead they dragged it out, draining her blood slowly. They wanted her to scream, wanted her to beg and plead, but she wouldn’t. She never did scream..” your voice trailed off as you watched the pastures blur by out the passenger side window. Sams hand moved to cover your own in the space between you.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N)..” his voice was soft. He hadn’t uttered a word since you began telling him about your past.

“I was four, Sam. Four years old and I had to listen to my mother be tortured and killed.” you say flatly. His hand squeezed tighter around yours, the warmth from him slowly seeping into your skin.

“My mother was killed by a demon when I was a baby.” he admitted after a minute of silence had passed, staring out the windshield as he spoke. “The only memory I have of her is watching her burn on the ceiling above my crib. It was…” he trailed off, not finding the words. “I know it’s not the same, and I can’t imagine going through what you did, but I do understand that kind of pain.”

You both sat in silence for the next few miles. Not realizing how lost you were in your bad memories, your breathing became shallow. Sams thumb would occasionally rub the skin of your hand beneath his, causing you to come back to the present and take a deep breath.

“So… witches blood huh?” he broke the silence.

“Yeah, apparently demons can do a lot of powerful stuff with it.” you reply, shaking your head to clear your thoughts.

“And you’re a hereditary witch?” he asked, wanting to get things right.

“Born from a long line. My aunt taught me most of what I know growing up. The rest I learned on my own, in the thick of things. She showed me how to protect myself, how to hide well, and how to fight some. ‘The longer the line, the stronger the blood, the more they’ll want you’ she used to tell me.”

“And how far back does your bloodline go?“ 

"Far enough.” you respond, not wanting to give up everything about yourself. You may have built a friendship with Sam, felt comfortable around him, but you still didn’t want to trust him with every detail. Not yet.

The hours passed by as day slipped into night. You made idle conversation throughout the trip, flipping through the stations as you changed states, trying to find something good to listen to. You talked about the places you’d been throughout the years, laughing when you had some in common. He told you about the bunker, about how they were still discovering rooms it was so big. When he had said bunker you imagined a small, underground safe house with maybe two or three rooms. Never would you have thought it would be this grand structure filled with all the lore you could ever want to read. He briefly touched on the subject of his brother, and how he lived there too.

Glancing over, you noticed Sam yawning and shaking his head, trying to shake the sleep off. You had been on the road for over 14 hours now, and you could tell he was fading fast.

“Hey, I can drive for a bit while you rest.” you offer, hoping he’ll agree and you won’t have to persist. He ran a hand over his face and deliberated for a moment, before agreeing. Pulling the car to the side of the road, you both get out and switch places. Climbing in the drivers seat you reach your leg out only to find that your foot doesn’t even graze the gas pedal. Sam watched you struggle to scoot the seat up far enough, snickering under his breath, and you shoot him a dangerous look.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you aren’t as tall as I am.” He stated, hands in the air defensively.

Mumbling something about giants under your breath you finally get situated. You shift the car out of park and into drive, pulling back onto the road.

“Stay on the highway. Wake me up when you start seeing signs for Kansas.” he tells you, getting comfortable in the passenger seat and leaning his head against the window.

“You got it chief.” you respond, gazing out the windshield at the dark expanse of road ahead.

The sound of boots echo around you as you descend the metal staircase. That’s when it hit you, the beautifully musty, vanilla scent that has always brought you comfort. Books. Lots of them. Taking a deep breath you begin to notice another scent. Is that leather and.. nutmeg?

“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in.” The gruff voice came from below. Looking down you see a man dressed in jeans and a plain black shirt with plaid over top. His arms were folded across his wide chest as he leaned back against the table in the center of the room. His hair was short, lighter than Sams, and stuck up at an odd angle. This man was different from his brother, that much was apparent. Your throat tightened when you saw the hard expression on his face. He wasn’t exactly happy to see Sam. “You enjoy your little vacation?” he asked rhetorically. As you reached the bottom of the stairs he leaned to the side, bringing you into his view. “Who’s the (Y/H/C)?”

“Dean, this is (Y/N), (Y/N) this is my brother, Dean.” Sam introduced, neither of you thrilled to be meeting one another. A few moments of silence pass before Sam lets out a frustrated sigh, causing Dean to raise an eyebrow at him. Stepping forward, Sam runs his hand through his hair nervously. “C'mon, we need to talk.” he says, gesturing to one of the rooms off to the side.

“You’re damn right we do.” Dean proclaimed, pushing himself off the table and following his brother.

Your eyes follow them until they turn the corner. His brother seems like a dick, but damn if he doesn’t have a nice ass. Left alone, you drop your bag on the large table and take in your surroundings. It was as if you had stepped back in time. Everything seemed to be from the 1930’s. The architecture of the railings, the light fixtures, even the monstrosity of a control panel on the wall across from you. As you continue to survey the room your eyes land on the archway across from you. Stepping closer, you peer through to the adjacent room and your mouth opens in wonder. This was the library, walls stacked high with books. It was truly a sight out of your dreams. Your fingers trailed along one of the tables situated down the center of the room, feeling the smoothness of the cold, hard wood as you strolled by. This is amazing.. Turning, you enter an alcove and find yourself surrounded by shelves of books. Tomes, encyclopedias, grimoires, folklore, you name it and it was here. The information in the room was palpable, thrumming through the air. You can’t help but reach out to gently skim your fingers across the old leather bindings.

The brothers voices carried through the empty rooms. You could tell they were arguing, but could only make out a few words here and there. Dean wasn’t happy about you being here. Sam must be telling him about you, about what you are. His brother didn’t trust you. To be honest you couldn’t blame him for that. After all, you didn’t trust him either.

“(Y/N)?” you hear Sam call from the room you had just come from. Stepping out from the alcove, you make your way over to him. His jaw was set, but his eyes were soft. He had won the argument. “I’m sorry about that,” he began, “my brother can be kind of a jerk sometimes.”

“It’s fine.” you respond, your tone flat.

“He’ll come around, it just takes him a while to warm up. Once he gets to know you..”

“It’s fine Sam, really.” you cut him off. “It doesn’t matter anyway, I don’t plan on sticking around that long.” Glancing up, you see his face fall. The movement was slight, but you knew his mannerisms well. He reached out and place a hand on your shoulder.

“You’re welcome here as long as you want (Y/N).” he replied. Just then his brother came out of the kitchen, beer in hand.

“I’m keeping my eye on you, Sabrina.” said Dean as he stomped past you and down the hall to your left.

“C'mon, I’ll show you your room. You can take your pick, actually.” Sam said, with a full smile this time. You grab your bag off the table and follow him down the hallway Dean had just taken.

There were doors lining both sides of the hall, each one with a number situated below the same symbol. Sam had told you that the bunker used to belong to a secret organization that was wiped out years ago, but it was just him and his brother who lived there now. The entire place to themselves. As you turned the corner, your lips curled into a small smile as you thought of how epic hide and seek would be in this place.

“Here we are. I’m in room 21, right over there,” he told, pointing  two doors down from where you were standing, “and Dean is in room 11, down the other hallway. You can choose any room besides those two.” he explains.

Your face falls as soon as you hear where Dean’s room is. Once you saw the rooms were numbered you knew which one you would be staying in. 9 had always been a lucky number for you. When you were a child your aunt had told you what a powerful and protective number it was, and it had never failed you. Unfortunately, this meant that you would be staying across the hall from Sams older, angry brother. It’s just until you figure out where to go next, you can deal with this (Y/N).

“I’ll be staying in room 9.” you mutter

Nodding in acknowledgement, Sam runs his hand through his hair. He’s nervous. “So, umm..” he starts.

“Where’s the bathroom? I’d love to take a shower.” you quickly say, not feeling up for any more conversations tonight.

“Oh, yeah sure, of course. It’s just down the first hall, third door on your right.” he gestures the way you had just come.

“Thanks.” you reply, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. A moment passes as you stare at the floor. Then Sam reaches out and snakes an arm around your shoulders, placing his other hand on your hair and pulling your head to his chest. His hug was tight, and warm. Slowly, your muscles began to relax.

“You’re safe now.” he breathes into your hair. Maybe it was because you hadn’t been hugged like this in a long time, but you actually did feel safer. As he pulled away you couldn’t help but feel thankful for him.

“Goodnight, Sam.” your voice was softer than it had been since you entered the bunker. Turning, you made your way down the hall to your new room, leaving him standing in front of his own.

When you reached your door you stood there for a moment, staring at the brass number before turning the knob and stepping through. The room was just like the rest of the bunker, straight out of another time. Crossing the dimly lit room, you toss your bag on the bed and threw yourself down next to it. These blankets smell weird, but at least they’re soft. Groaning, you sit up and begin rummaging through your bag for something to change into after your shower. Eventually you pull out a black tank top and shorts. Tossing them over your shoulder you stand and stretch your body upward, feeling your back and shoulders pop. A long sigh passes your lips as you stroll across the room and out the door, thinking about how good it’s going to feel to wash the past two days off of you. 

@kdfrqqg @lucifer-in-leather 

[iandakin-blog]

The first day working at Loungers Ltd went well. I met Warren Lewis and Milly Jones, my bosses in the Look and Feel section of the New Builds department of the company. We have a chat about my duties and what they want to see from me.

The projects I’ll be working on are a series of boutique hotel bedrooms above a lounge in Bedford and the ongoing improvement of the exterior spaces in all the lounge portfolio.

We had a meeting at 10am with Plantcare, a Bristol based national company that is responsible for the supply and maintenance of the plants and planters in all the Lounge cafe/bars. The topics of discussion were based around the quality of service received.

Afterwards Milly set me up with payroll, requested an internal email address and a work laptop for me, and I was given the title ‘small projects designer’. Now it’s starting to feel real.

After lunch I went upstairs to the contracts department and met Matt Saunders the manager there, he gave me my work contract to sign.

I drove home at 4pm. It was a good day, the head office staff made me feel at home. I’m sure I can do the job so it should be ok, I just hope I can manage work and college simultaneously.

11/10/18

Todays mission is to drive to Manchester and back. I’ve been asked to survey the exterior spaces of 3 lounge sites there, with the goal of renovating these spaces. Berretto in Stockport, Molino in Oldham and Racconto in Bury are fairly new lounges, only about a year old. Lounges ltd started trading in 2002, but it was in 2012 when they received large financial investment that they grew to over 100 sites.

I’ve arranged to meet Jenny Arnott the Area manager at Berretto lounge at 1pm, so I set off early. Road trip!

The drive was ok, and the meeting goes well. Jenny helps me understand what they’ve had before at the sites and what she thinks they need to improve.

Loungers are keen to use faux planting in these sites to reduce the cost of maintaining them. They are situated in newly developed shopping areas, so it should be fine to use faux planting.

I get home at about 8pm, after a long day I take myself off to the pub for a pint to relax.

25/10/18

Today I travel to Reading to meet Graham Thomas the sales director at AEL Ltd. AEL specialise in commercial exterior spaces and have clients such as Pizza express, Costa coffee and Pret A Manger. They have a range of options that could be applicable for the sites in Manchester.

Graham gives me the full tour of their operation. There’s a large warehouse with a sales and demonstration area and offices above. Across the road they have a workshop where they build anything required by their clients. It’s an impressive company.

We go through the options in faux planting, cafe barriers and outdoor furniture. I leave the site with a far clearer idea of what’s available to me so I can develop a solution. I pop into the office on the way back for a few hours to start getting the options together in digital format.

13/11/18

We had a site meeting in Albero lounge in Bedford today. I set off very early as I had to be there by 11am and it’s a three and a half hour drive.

I was met at site by Alex Reilley the company chairman, Warren Lewis the Chief Development Officer, Ben Wood a contract manager for Lounges and two representatives from Mobius the contractor involved in the renovation of the rooms.

[written-within-the-stars]

Taking a Walk on the Wild side - Solo

“Good Morning Sunshine" Both Kenzie and I scream into Jenna’s ear, jumping up and down on top of her as she lay there moaning from the pain. 'Stop, please stop' Kenzie kisses Jenna’s cheek giggling and I jump on top of her again. 'There is no way we are going to stop after the scare you gave us last night Missy.' Kenzie giggles and sings out loud in Jenna’s ear.] "And.." I add] "This 'road trip' is your idea, so there is no way I will let you sleep in and miss the amazing Sun rises and sunsets we planned to see from the top of that cliff place you picked out on our way here. It’s the reason we stopped off, right?" Jenna tries hard to hide under the covers, but gives up when she realized that we are not going to stop. Once we got her out of bed it didn’t take her long to shower and dress. 'You still look like Hell Jenna.' Kenzie says as we leave the room in search for some food. 'Cheers Kenzie, remind me not to come to ask for help when I want to kill myself, ok?' I smiled watching the two of them pushing and shoving one another down the street until I notice a diner. 'Come on you two, I think this place will do for today.' Kenzie linked her arms around me and Jenna and the three of us crossed the road and pushed our way into the diner. It was small and you could tell it needed some TLC, but it was clean and people filled the booths and tables. "Always a good sign, if the locals eat here." I mutter to the girls as we are seated. Jenna falls into her space and curls up, closing her eyes. Kenzie starts to look over the menu. Me however, I start to look around at the people in this place. I like people watching, it tells me a lot about the town and how the people interact with one another. Every time someone new walked into this diner they are greeted with a smile and a personal greeting by the lady behind the counter. Followed by “Do you want your usual?”, so these people where all friends, or at least they know one another well. We three were the only new faces in this place by the way people gave us a second glance as they walk past our table. 'Now here are some fresh faces.' Our waitress smiles filling three cups with hot coffee, before taking out her note pad. 'So, what brings you here?' She asks and as Jenna is trying to sleep and Kenzie’s lost in the menu I’m left to answer. "We are just passing by on a girl’s road trip, we saw the cliffs you have here and stopped for a night or two so we could take in a hike.” I smile as a tall man in a uniform, steps up trying to walk around our waitress, but he stops hearing what I’m saying. 'Don’t go too far into the woods girls and follow the path without straying off too far.' Our waitress smiles at him 'That’s good advice Chief Swan, take a seat and I’ll bring you your breakfast over.' It was good advice and I knew the others wouldn’t be listening, so I make a note in my mind to get the number to the police station before we leave. "Thank you" I say to the man as he sits down on the table across from us. 'So, what can I get you young ladies' Jenna makes a sound, so Kenzie orders her some eggs and toast to help with the hangover, she asks for Pancakes and eggs for herself and I go for Pancakes and Bacon. "As we are going to be working it all off tracking today, why not go mad." The rest of the morning is fun, teasing Jenna and her hangover, reminding her of what she was saying and doing the night before, and taking in the fresh air and the sights. It is cold in the woods, and I keep the girls on the path just as Chief Swan had told us too. 'It’s so beautiful around here.' Kenzie says walking a few steps ahead now, we keep Jenna in the middle of us so she does not stray at all. And I walk in the back looking over my shoulders. "Do you both get the feeling we are being watched at all?" I finally ask aloud, I have been feeling it for the last hour or so and I know I’m not going mad. 'Don’t be silly Harper, you are imagining it.' Jenna says before she trips on something and tumbles back onto me. We both giggle and laugh as does Kenzie helping us to our feet

again. 'You are just being overprotective Harps' Kenzie winks and I try to brush it off. "If you say so." But I can’t help looking over my shoulders as we keep walking.

[tips16]

Education Helps Hadija And Mustafa To Look To The Future

Education helps Hadija and Mustafa to look to the future. Children receive peer education as part of psychosocial support provided by vulnerable, unknown and isolated partners affected by the crisis in Northeast Nigeria by UNICEF, the Nigerian government and other partners. Mustafa loves to meet his friends, as he now calls him home. After his home was destroyed by Boko Haram militants, his grandfather and later his father killed his mother and brothers when he returned from his store to save things. When Mustafa, who is now 12 years old, arrived at the camp, he had nightmares. A strange mixture of dreams of his father chasing him and trying to kill him, a clear sign of the trauma he has suffered. The school has provided an outlet for Mustafa and his young friends, who have experienced terrible violence at the hands of Boko Haram. But the conflict in northeast Nigeria is a complication that is a traditional response to the needs of displaced people, especially children like Mustafa. Who do not work. A child stands in front of a construction; Ding, looking at the camera. Mustafa's mother says that if she wants to do something in this world, she needs an education. Displaced children need more than reading and writing. Since the beginning of the conflict in 2009, Boko Haram insurgents have committed horrific incidents of violence. More than 2.3 million people have been displaced from their homes, most of them children. Aside from the everyday threats of conflict, children are highly vulnerable to the recruitment and use of the armed forces and are suffering the most brutal effects of violent tactics. This shows how difficult it is to protect the children in this area and help them with rehabilitation after they have managed to escape. Hadija's mother is one of the parents who tries to protect her children in case of such violence. She is forced to flee with her daughter after Boko Haram invades her home and kills her husband. After the attack, they managed to reach Muna Garage, a camp for people displaced by the conflict. We had a peaceful life before Boko Haram. One day they turned around and started killing people. We were in trouble, I didn't like seeing my daughter outside of school. Boko Haram attacked her Hadija village and her mother escaped to the Muna Garage camp. Where Hadija was finally able to return to school. Boko Haram attacked her Hadija village and her mother fled to Muna Garage camp. Finally, Hadija was reunited. Once they got to the camp and recovered from the immediate trauma of her orgy, Hadija's mother went straight to have her daughter admitted to the school. School has become a fundamental force in her life and Hadija is a star student. I'm so proud when I see him put on his uniform in the morning, her mother says, smiling. "Her At night she sits next to me and she does her homework. Getting children like Mustafa and Hadija back to school means that they can become part of the fabric and safety of their lives. In addition to daily classes, their dedicated teachers use games and craft activities to help them understand what has happened and allow them to think ahead. Hadija dreams of becoming a doctor and leaving the trauma of her experience behind. Mustafa's approach to her is more philosophical: she believes that education will be a means to bring peace to Nigeria. Patrick Rose is a crisis communications specialist with UNICEF's West and Central Africa Regional Office, covering emergencies in the region, including the Lake Chad basin. As the scorching heat of the desert sun begins to subside, children of all ages gather to lose themselves in the drums of the beautiful game. For a few hours, almost everyone forgets. As the black and white ball swirls in a small cloud of dust across the cold sand. For a moment, the sheer reality of these children is that they were persecuted, as they were taken from their homes in Nigeria by the armed group Boko Haram. Who lifted them off their shoulders. For many, their family and friends have been killed before their eyes. Some people have lost their parents in the chaos and are now alone in this refugee camp. A child-friendly place supported by UNICEF is where I met Peter, a 15-year-old boy who is small for his age, but with a great personality. They call me Neymar, he says smiling, and then he gestures to the boy next to him and says happily: And this is my friend Mohammed, they call him Messi. This must be true, as he is wearing what is arguably the most popular shirt in Africa. A maroon and blue Barcelona jersey with Messi's jersey on the back. Mohammed and Peter are more than good friends; They are like brothers, indivisible. They live in the same store, go to school together, bring water together, cook together, and most importantly, play soccer together. They are also here without their families. In the chaos of Boko Haram's attacks on their villages, the two were separated from their parents and siblings. There are 126 other children separated and missing in the camp. Peter disapproves of his fateful trip to Nigeria and does so almost in a disconnected way: in January, he went fishing with a family friend while the rest of his family members were in the city of Maiduguri. Around 4:00 pm, he woke up with gunfire and fled with his neighbors, while Boko Haram killed them. They ran towards Baga hoping to be safe, but only found themselves fleeing again with Boko Haram. From Baga, they fled to the Duero, where they boarded a ship that eventually brought them to Nagouba, which a few weeks later would become the scene of the first Boko Haram attack on Chadian soil. Many children who come here show signs of trauma because they witness violence. They don't eat or sleep, and some don't talk about it, said UNICEF Chief of the Field Office, Dr Baga Sola. Claude Nababu says. Through the Child Friendly Space, community activists begin mentoring children and providing them with a safe place to talk about their experiences. They play board games and sports like soccer and volleyball. Community activists help children reconnect with their families. Through this program, Peter's family was traced to Maiduguri, in northeastern Nigeria. I called them. They are very happy that I am here in Dar es Salaam, because they did not kill me. Peter now talks regularly with his family and hopes to meet them soon. I miss them and I'm not happy right now, he says. By the grace of God, I will come back and see you. But the continuing violence and insecurity in the lake region means this meeting will have to wait. Meanwhile, Peter attends the newly opened temporary teaching space at the camp. He is one of the few students to have received any form of formal education, despite a sporadic five years of schooling. Most of the students have attended Korean school only or have never entered the school class. Schools and health clinics are few and far between in the Lake Chad region, and roads are almost non-existent. Even at the age of 15, Peter is very clear about his life options and explains to me that, although he wants to go see his family. He also wants to finish school here, due to the violence that it makes it easier. no more poverty. Peter and Mohammed start preparing their dinner as the sun begins to set. "I can cook," he says proudly, showing each of the ingredients that he would mix over a small heat in a pot: rice, flour, a few pieces of red onion, a little oil and a cube of Maggi broth. We fall asleep after dinner, then we get up and go to school," says Peter. "That's it." For this aspiring soccer star, that she beat the odds and made it to safety through the most violent experience, a boy whose childhood is gone forever, but still wakes up and attends school and his remarkable journey will end here. So I choose not to believe it. Halima * has had ten hours of work. Her contractions are regular and increasing. She is in great pain, but does not make a sound; Only her face shows the problems she's going through. Her husband was shot dead when the armed group known as 'Boko Haram'. Halima, who was already pregnant, was held captive for seven months. She was sheltered in the Dalori IDP camp after the Nigerian Armed Forces rescued her two months ago, along with more than 15,000 people uprooted by the conflict in northeast Nigeria. People from a community of UNICEF volunteers who went from store to store persuaded Halima to come to the clinic, where she sought medical advice. She then she returned for regular prenatal checkups. She headed to the clinic as soon as she started labor. Halima was immediately cared for by a midwife, a traditional midwife and a nurse, Ruth. Now Ruth examines her and she's ready. After a few more contractions, Halima gives birth to a beautiful baby girl, who weighs 3 kg. The child cries something and immediately begins to suck his thumb. There is joy in the room and Halima smiles. She and her baby are cleaned and breastfeeding begins. Ruth would later say that she was concerned that Halima's last delivery might be high risk. Despite the difficulties associated with displaced camps. The baby has a good chance of survival thanks to her care. She will soon be undergoing her regular vaccinations. While Halima continues to receive care until she recovers. Halima has just given birth to the twenty-seventh child born at this clinic in the Dalori displacement camp. With nearly 300,000 people displaced since February, more than 1.3 million people have been forced to flee their homes as a result of the conflict in northeast Nigeria. Many of those displaced from areas liberated after months of Boko Haram control suffer from malnutrition, dehydration and exhaustion, especially women and children. In less than two months, 73 deaths have been reported, of which 33 percent of children under 5 years of age are involved. In an effort to reduce infant mortality among displaced populations. UNICEF immediately deployed a team of health professionals through the state's Primary Health Care Development Agency to improve integrated health care services provided in the camp. Three clinics were established in Dalori camp, in collaboration with UNICEF and the Government of Japan, where Halima and the child were treated. Health workers participated in the installation and were trained to provide 24-hour services. The team is made up of three midwives, three doctors and 50 community volunteers. Baby Baby Fatima faces the future Halima says, "I don't know what would have happened if they hadn't saved me and brought me to this camp." The girl, dressed in a white cloth, is temporarily named Fatima by her mother. After seven days, she will receive her official name, according to local traditions. Overwhelmed by her work, Halima inspects the people around her, the health professionals. She has never sent her children to school, but she is imagining the opportunities an education can bring to the newest child. "That's what I want for my daughter," she says. Since I came to this camp, I realized that everyone who helped here had access to Western education. I will allow my daughter to go to school, she continues with a vision of determination. Halima will work hard; Her daughter will have access to education. Meanwhile, her eldest son is attending a UNICEF-supported school in the camp. Read the full article

[mymelodyheart]

Starting Over Chapter 4 ~The Road Trip~

Jamie retreated to his own private thoughts as they drove further away. He must have surmised she needed the space and Claire appreciated the gesture. Looking out of her window, she watched the world move in a blur of green, blue and white, the hiss of the tyres lost under the pounding bass of music blasting from the speakers. Perhaps, though being left with her own ruminations wasn't the best of ideas as the full horror of what of she'd done sank in, the festering guilt making her want to throw up.

Better to talk about it, Claire. Too much thinking is bad for ye,  Geillis would have said with a soft cluck of disapproval. How many times had her friend said that leading to her wedding day when she'd been caught staring into space more often than not? She'd withdrawn to herself more and more and had snapped at people for noticing when she should have been a picture of happiness. Not one to beat around the bush, Joe had simply gone straight to the point and had asked her if she was having any second thoughts about marrying Frank. Of course, Claire had brushed off the insinuation as ridiculous, excusing her mood for fatigue from work and wedding jitters. Looking back, she must admit her friends were more perceptive than she gave them credit for. The signs must have been quite obvious, but it was only now she realised she had been living in denial, believing Frank was the love of her life. Not that it mattered anymore as there had been no love lost between her friends and Frank.

Chalking up the acid taste of guilt, she stole a glance at Jamie. Although she couldn't see his eyes hidden behind the dark sunglasses, his body language screamed confidence, forearm muscles flexing as he worked the steering wheel. He was clean-shaven today, revealing a well-defined jaw and angular cheekbone. Taking advantage of his full attention on the road, she allowed her eyes to drift, and it wasn't until when he hit the brake did she realised she was staring at his mouth like a charmed snake stares at a pocket watch. Mortified at nearly being caught, she snapped her head forward, mentally cursing herself for behaving like a lovesick loon. 

Oh, how Joe and Geillis would laugh when they find out her getaway sidekick was James Fraser of all people. She remembered how they used to tease her mercilessly about her infatuation with Jamie. Regardless of the attraction, she'd declined Joe's offer of an introduction, that practical side of her knowing already he was far out of reach. But, it hadn't stopped her from admiring him from afar. She'd loved his brilliance and skill on the rugby pitch and his enthusiasm for the game. She could only envision his countless hours of training, perfecting the craft, every manoeuvre from the opponent covered, every detail examined and re-examined. His fans had loved him, and so did the media. He oozed an effortless charm, whenever he'd spoken about his passion for the game, holding the audience's and interviewer's rapt attention. It was an impossibility not to admire him, cockiness and arrogance notwithstanding.

Unwittingly, the memory of their kiss slithered in, and she was unprepared for the rush of conflicting emotions it evoked. One would think that at her age of twenty-eight years, she would know all there is to know about kissing. Not that she had kissed many in her life. The first time had been with a co-student while she was in the university, but the onion-smelling kiss had made her gag and given her a cold sore days later. The unpleasant encounter almost put her off kissing forever, well at least for a few years.

Then Frank came along. He'd taught and guided her in the art of love. There had been the odd spark here and there, but it never entirely lit the fire. Whereas Frank's lips tasted of liquorice and old wine and felt loose and spongy, she had been surprised to find Jamie's lips sweet as honey with a hint of whisky, firm yet soft and his breath warm as pie. And when he'd kissed her back, it was like the whole world opened up, and she'd fallen inside. He appeared to have enjoyed it at that time, but she wasn't born yesterday. Inexperienced as she might be, she knew a kiss like that took a lot of practice to perfect. Knowing he'd never been short of women's attention, she wondered how many he'd kissed like that. A betting woman in her would presume, a thousand perhaps?

Oh for heaven's sake, why am I even contemplating about that kiss? It probably didn't mean anything to him.  Annoyed with herself for getting distracted at a time like this, she reined in her lascivious thoughts. She hadn't even figured out yet where she was laying her head tonight. Unfortunately, his presence buzzed around her like a fly that she could never swat, making her flustered with his every word, movement and breath.  Damn him for looking so good!  

She forced her focus on Frank and wondered how he was. They've only been on the road for forty-five minutes, and she was sure that by now, all their wedding guests already knew that she'd absconded. They were hardly going to think she was kidnapped when they find her engagement ring on the table and the window to her freedom open. 

"Are ye hungry?" Jamie asked as he pulled the car into the Mark and Spencers parking lot.

"Oh ..." So deep she was in her thoughts, she hadn't realised they'd left the motorway. "I haven't really thought about food to be honest." In fact, she hadn't even thought about any plans either. All of her belongings had been moved to Frank's apartment the other day. She had no money, except for a pricey Vera Wang wedding dress she was wearing that Frank had insisted on buying, despite her protest at such extravagance. "But I'd like some water please."

"Okay. What's yer shoe size?"

"Size six," she replied, too mentally exhausted to asked what he was up to.

"Stay here and keep the doors lock. I shan't be long."

Claire nodded and watched him walked into the store. He was oblivious to the stares that followed him, mostly from women admiring his tall and muscled physique and maybe a few fans who'd recognised him. 

She wondered why Jamie was helping her, and what he thought of her running away from her own wedding. Maybe he felt guilty for his behaviour at his nephew's party. Or perhaps he felt responsible because he had been the one to catch her when she fell from the window. 

One thing was certain, though, no matter what other people thought, she didn't regret fleeing, but she did feel self-reproach for leaving Frank at the altar. But why oh why did she have to take that moment of all moments to decide to leave him? She could have saved him the humiliation if she'd listened to her guts. But then again, wasn't it Frank who dampened that trait from her? Frank despised impulse and decisions based on emotions, and he'd drummed into her time and time again to make judgements base on rational thinking. But of course, knowing her luck, this had to be the day she chose to reassert her independence and reclaim her intuitive reasoning. She thought about her job in the surgical unit at the Royal Infirmary, where her entire career was carved out, and Frank was the Chief Consultant.  Oh, good, God! How is that going to even pan out when I return?

She pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to soothe the headache that was beginning to bloom as more thoughts and images flooded in her head like a raging tsunami threatening to drown her.  What a bloody mess!

Moments passed, the door to her side opened, and Jamie thrust a bottle of mineral water at her. "Here, Sassenach, drink this first. Ye look like ye're about to pass out."

Grateful, she took the bottle from him and drank greedily. When she had her fill, she watched him load several plastic bags into the backseat. "May I borrow your phone? I need to call my friends. I'm worried about my uncle, and I-I left my phone at the church."

"I spoke to Joe already," he replied. Pushing his sunglasses on top of his head, he gingerly reached behind her and started to tug open the pearl buttons that ran down her back.

Startled, she slapped his wrist. "Wot in heaven's name do you think are you doing?" 

He jerked his chin toward the back seat. "I bought ye some clothes and shoes. I think ye'd be more comfortable in something less bulky." 

"Oh! Sorry ..." 

He nodded and gave her a tight smile. Up close, Claire studied his features and was surprised at how tensed he looked, as he resumed the task of unbuttoning her dress. This veritable ladies' man was trying hard not to look at her exposed shoulders but was failing miserably. Surely, she imagined it.

"So you spoke to Joe?" she asked, bringing her attention back to more crucial matters. Worry reared back up and nipped at her nerves as she waited for his answer.

"Aye. I told Joe everything that happened. He was baffled though when I told him ye were with me. So expect plenty of questions later," he answered, standing up and taking a step back once her dress was unfastened. 

"Did he mention my uncle?" Not bothering to go out through the door, she clambered between the front seats and wriggled her way to the back. "How is he?" She peered into the plastic bags and started rummaging through them. There were shirts, denim shorts, a pair of jeans, undergarments, slip-on trainers, and sandals. And snacks and beverages!  Wot the hell!

"Yer uncle Lamb, aye. He left the church immediately after he was informed that ye ran away. Apparently to celebrate at the pub. So yer uncle didnae approve of Frank?"

She couldn't help but smile despite the muddle that she was in. Her uncle Lamb thought Frank was too controlling and over-bearing.  Pompous ass,  he'd called him. "Well, my uncle didn't like him." Not wanting to speak ill of Frank, she instantly changed the subject. "And how about the guests and the press?" Clumsily, she tugged off her dress and quickly scrambled into jeans and t-shirt, yanking off price tags. The clothes were slightly too big, but definitely way better than walking around in a Vera Wang wedding dress.

"The guests were in shock as to be expected. But as soon as the press smelled blood, they stormed into the church. We were lucky to get out when we did." The thought of being photographed while running away from her wedding sent a shiver down her spine. "But dinna fash. Geillis is helping manage the guests and cancellations. It sounded like yer friends are happy to sort everything out for ye."

Relief coasted down her back, loosening her muscles. Finding a packet of makeup wipes in one the plastic bags, she scrubbed her face clean as if she was scrubbing the residue of that day's event. "And Frank?"   She squeezed her eyes shut and gulped a lungful of air. "Is Frank alright? Did Joe mention him?"

"Nae idea how he is. Joe said he disappeared into a room and haven't come out. I dinna think yer friends were that fussed about him. They were more worried about ye. Joe threatened to snip my bollocks off if I didnae treat ye right and Geillis shouted she would feed it to the stray dogs."

Typical Joe and Geillis!   "Joe is your mate, right? So why would he say such a thing?" Sifting through her hair, she worked out each of the pins that held her wild curls, and dug a small package of hair ties and scooped her tresses into a ponytail. Satisfied, she got out of the car.

A crease formed between his brows as he surveyed her. "Weel, it's a standing joke - I kinda have a reputation where the opposite sex is concerned. Maybe I've earned it."

"Don't believe everything you read in the newspaper about Jamie. Most are just tabloid nonsense."  She remembered Joe saying long ago.

Claire saw a flash of resignation on his face and something else, but it was quickly gone before she could decipher it. "I don't think Joe meant it that way, Jamie," she said softly.

"Aye? Ye think so?" 

"I know so. Joe had never spoken badly about you. Plus, you're not a joke. If it makes you feel better, I think I feel safe with you," she said, even though he looked like he wanted to spear-tackle someone to the ground. 

His lips quirked. "I can assure ye, ye're a hundred per cent safe with me, Dr Beauchamp." 

"Ah, so Joe told you I'm a doctor."

"He might have mentioned it." His face turned into a much deeper frown.

Looking down, she rubbed the palms of her hands along the sides of her jeans.  Maybe he's worried he bought the wrong size.  "Don't worry about them being too big. I wear a lot of baggy clothes all the time."

He shook his head and took a step forward, tilting her chin up. "Frank ... he didnae hurt ye, did he?"

The warm air suddenly turned cold, and her heart faltered. She understood what the question implied. "Jamie. I appreciate everything that you're doing here. Truly, I do. But now's not the time. I'd rather not talk about Frank." 

Jamie remained silent and didn't budge, clearly he was waiting for an answer. She certainly didn't owe him one, but he didn't look like he was about to give up that easily. Sighing and too exhausted to argue, she threw her hands up in the air. "Look it didn't work out between us. And I was too much of a coward to tell him. But he didn't hurt me physically, alright?" 

He didn't look convinced, but she wasn't in the mood to explain. Turning away from his deepening scowl, she made a move towards the front seat. But  Jamie's hand appeared above her head and smacked down to stop her from getting in. "Hang on a minute, Sassenach. We're not done yet."

Claire spun around to find him standing too close. "Wot?"

His cheek twitched twice, and he licked his lips. "Listen. About the other day in Lallybroch, I'd like to apologise. As my younger brother said, I acted like a self-entitled prick waving that hundred-pound note in yer face." The sincerity in his eyes captured her still. "I'm verra sorry."

Bewilderment slipped in. "You don't need to apologise, Jamie. You've redeemed yourself a thousandfold. Those things you bought for me and calling my friends and checking up on uncle Lamb...you thought of everything. I don't think I could have managed on my own. Not to mention, you saved my life."

Jamie stood back and crossed his arms, a vein popping out at the side of his neck. "But I'm not sorry that the kiss happened."

Caught unaware by Jamie's admission, Claire didn't know where to adjust her focus. One minute he was thoughtful and attentive, and then self-effacing and apologetic the next. And now of all times, when life was not making sense, he just had to mention the kiss.  Damn him!  She felt her temper simmer on the surface, but with not much battery life left in her brain, she bit her tongue. As a doctor, she knew, that a certain level of tiredness could equate to momentary insanity and having a meltdown now in a public car park would only draw unwanted attention. 

"I think we should go," she said hoarsely. It took a mammoth effort to turn away from Jamie's scrutiny, but she managed to get into her seat without any more further hindrances. 

Suddenly conscious of time and place, he cleared his throat and headed for the driver's seat. "Aye. It's getting late."

"Where are we going?" she asked, as soon as he got in.

"Cullen. It's a village in Moray on the northeast coast. My godfather, Murtagh, has a cottage on a clifftop by the seaside. He's in France at the moment. We'll stay there until the news dies down and you figure out what you want to do next," he replied, as he reversed the car from the parking lot.

She closed her eyes and surrendered to that moment. She was too worn and empty. With a sigh, she resigned herself to letting Jamie take care of things, for now. Tomorrow, with a clearer head, she'd make decisions and clean up the mess she made.

Once on the road, they drove in silence for the rest of the way, as they headed further north, eating up the miles. She was asleep by the time they reached their destination.

Too groggy to appreciate her surroundings, she allowed Jamie to guide her to the cottage and into her room. He muttered something about going to the shop and getting some rest before leaving her on her own. 

Once she was alone, she walked into the bathroom and turned on the light. She stared at the mirror and what she saw, shocked her. Her usual vivid amber eyes were vacant. The spark had died, and only a dull light reflected back at her.  How did this happen?  She'd always been driven and goal-oriented but basically happy. It's true, she worked long hours and took on a lot of responsibilities, always wanting to help, to heal and to comfort. She'd never stopped craving for knowledge beyond her profession, pushing to educate herself further. But over the past year, all she experienced was paralysing fear. The fear of knowing she wasn't good enough. Not good enough for Frank. Not for the world. Not even for herself.

Painful memories of Frank's words seeped into her heart and reverberated in her head.

Claire, must you wear those clothes? You look pudgy around the hips in it.

Aw, darling, I know you try your best, but this is just beyond your understanding. Here, let me handle things for you.

Sweetheart, you're a doctor now. Pick a hobby that isn't remotely childish.

Claire, stop cussing. You're embarrassing me in front of my friends.

Listen, dear. We're attending an important charity event here and not a circus. Please do something about those wayward curls.

Sweetheart, if you really love me, you'll suck my dick. No ...not like that, dear. A little bit more teeth.

Are you sure you want that dessert, darling?

You call this a steak? I'd be too embarrassed to serve this to a dog. Maybe you should attend a culinary school. 

A single tear slipped down her cheek, and then she turned away from the mirror. Turning off the light, Claire went to bed.

[desktopgargoyle]

the road trip series - chapter 4

AN: I’m sorry this has taken me so long to upload! Trust me to pick the Worst Possible Time to start writing a multi-chapter fic...whoops. I’m really sorry I can’t promise a regular update schedule, but I’m trying my best to write content that I’m happy with and that I hope you will be happy with; I’d rather focus on the quality of the chapters rather than how quickly they’re published, you know what I mean? Anyway, that’s enough rambling from me. Here’s Chapter 4, hope you guys enjoy it! - Danielle

ff.net version | the road trip series

Chapter 4

At Alya’s suggestion, they decide to make a few scenic stops along the way to Marseille. She figures that this way they’ll get to see a little more of the non-Paris edition of France as well as have time to relax and break from the intense driving. Or at least Alya needs a break, especially after the last tortuous forty-five minutes.

The traffic had, thankfully, dissipated and they were finally on the move again driving at just over 100km/h. It was great; they were more energised, they were blasting The Lion King soundtrack, Nino and Adrien were scream-shouting a load of nonsense that only vaguely resembled the actual lyrics, and Marinette had control of the camera, collecting footage for Alya’s blog.

“Smile, Nino!” Marinette giggles, zooming in ridiculously close to Nino’s face. He grins, crossing his eyes and holding up a peace sign as he and Adrien continue to dramatically re-enact the entire Circle of Life scene from The Lion King as best they can in the somewhat cramped backseat of the car.

Marinette turns the camera to Adrien next and he sticks his tongue out at her. Marinette huffs. In true Adrien fashion, he still manages to look abso-fucking-lutely perfect. Curse that flawless face of his. Curse that gorgeous hair of his. Curse – actually no, scratch that. He’s too beautiful to be cursed. Marinette sighs audibly, oblivious to Alya’s slight snickering from the driver’s seat.

“You okay there, Mari?” Adrien’s question snaps her out of her little space out and she promptly turns red, for perhaps the umpteenth time today alone.

“Me? Yes of course! You’re great! I mean – you’re fine! NO. That is to say, I’m fine. Not to say that you’re not fine because of course you are, right? You’re a model! Um…but of course you already know that…why wouldn’t you know that….ha.”

Adrien glances at Nino, eyebrows raised questioningly. Nino simply shrugs in return.

“How about we pretend I never opened my stupid mouth, okay?” Marinette laughs nervously, swiftly turning around in her seat to face the front. “Kill me.” She mouths to Alya before she buries her flushed face in her hands.

In a valiant effort to change the subject, Nino decides that now is the perfect time for a playlist brainstorming session. “So Maribro. I was thinking that we add a new playlist to our repertoire.”

Marinette swivels around again in her chair (making a great effort to avoid making eye contact with Adrien as she does so) to face Nino. “As much as I’d love to, I’m pretty sure you have violated the Playlist Rules, specifically rule number one, on more than one occasion.”

Nino gulps audibly.

“As a result of this disregard for the sacred rules,” Marinette continues. “I, as sole rule-abiding Playlist Executive, do henceforth revoke your Playlist Executive licence until further notice.” She grins smuggle and winks at him before spinning back around again in her chair.

“But that makes it a playlist dictatorship! I will not stand for this kind of oppression! Liberté, égalité, fraternité! Vive la France!” Nino presses his fist to his heart in what is supposed to be a patriotic manner. In fact, he gets a little too enthusiastic and winds up punching himself in the process.

Marinette retorts back that if Nino was so in favour of democracy then he would abide by the agreed rules. The argument (that is, if it can be called an argument) goes on for another couple minutes before Alya decides that it’s time to intervene. Honestly, if she had known that she would end up playing peacemaker between two apparent five-year-olds, she would not have signed up for this job.

In her sharp ‘I-am-in-charge-and-you-will-not-question-my-authority’ tone (which the past ten years of babysitting her sisters has allowed her to perfect), Alya declares that Nino is on Playlist Time-Out indefinitely, Marinette is Chief Playlist Commander, and Adrien is Assistant Playlist Consultant. She herself refuses to be part of this playlist nonsense because, frankly, there is nothing wrong with just hitting shuffle and seeing where they end up. The highly specific playlist names fiasco is just ridiculous, in Alya’s humble opinion.

Nino protests, claiming that the rules specifically ban Adrien from any playlist-related activities, to which Marinette points out that Nino cannot hold such a gross double standard concerning rule breaking, and Alya feels her eyes roll so hard that she’s pretty sure she will soon be able to see the inside of her skull.

“Everyone shut the hell up or so help me god I will turn this car right around and we will all go straight home!” Alya yells. She figures that this trick still works on her younger sisters, even though they’re now teenagers, so it’s worth a try.

The car falls silent and, surprisingly, it remains like that for the better part of fifteen minutes.

Alya breathes deeply and smiles serenely. “See? Was that so difficult? All you have to do is keep calm, breathe, and- FUCKING HELL, YOU MORON! WATCH WHERE THE HELL YOU’RE DRIVING, ASSHOLE! USE YOUR FREAKING TURN SIGNAL! I SWEAR TO GOD I CAN’T CATCH TWO MINUTES OF PEACE! OH, YOU WANNA FLIP YOUR MIDDLE FINGER AT ME?! TWO CAN PLAY AT THAT GAME, BUDDY!”

Marinette and Nino exchange knowing looks and Marinette slams the play button on the ‘we-need-to-distract-alya-otherwise-she-will-get-into-a-fight’ playlist. All the while Adrien looks a little terrified in his corner of the car. He really shouldn’t be surprised at Alya’s outbursts, but he’s always slightly shocked that so small a person can house all of that tension. Sometimes he can practically see the steam coming out of her ears as if she was a cartoon character.

Alya scowls at the idiot who is now driving in front of her and grips the steering wheel until her knuckles turn white. If there’s one thing she cannot stand, it’s reckless drivers. People make mistakes every now and again when they drive, that’s just natural – Alya gets that. But this idiot was just blatantly ignoring all driving etiquette. Nothing pisses her off more than that.

“Hey, we’re coming up to Saint-Étienne, how about we take a break?” She suggests. Everyone is only too happy to comply.

Saint-Étienne is quite pretty, Marinette decides. They grab some pastries at a local café and make their way to the public gardens in the centre of the town, looking out at the architectural bandstand structure, taking in the calm atmosphere, and revelling in its stark contrasts to the hustle and bustle of Paris. Nino and Alya decide to take a walk around the gardens, leaving Adrien and Marinette alone on the bench.

“Can you imagine how awesome it would be to see an actual band playing on the stand?” Adrien grins. Marinette nods in agreement; it really would be a sight. “I can see it so clearly in my head,” Adrien continues. “Either a jazz-swing-blues band or an orchestra, I haven’t quite decided yet, and fairy lights – actually no, lanterns – strung up everywhere, people dancing around. It would be great.”

Marinette rests her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. “Sounds like quite the visual you’ve thought up there,” she smiles. “It sounds really nice.” She does her very best to not imagine that very image in the context of their wedding. Reel it in, Mari. Don’t do this again.

Adrien stretches his arms out. There’s a little voice in his head telling him to pull the cliché fake-yawn move so that he can rest his arm around Marinette’s shoulder but he tells this voice to shut up and folds his arms behind his head instead.

“I feel like Alya needs a break from driving.” Marinette says, between bites of her pain-au-chocolat. “I think she’s hit her limit.”

Adrien nods, sipping his coffee. He winces as he feels his taste buds disappear and is hit with a sudden wave of nostalgia. “Hey, Mari, remember that school trip we took to London?” That trip will always remain one of his favourite memories. It was the first time his father had actually willingly trusted him with some independence, encouraged it, actually.

“Yeah, that was a great trip.” Play it cool, Mari. Cool, collected, no squealing.

“I just got hit with some major déjà vu,” he laughs. Marinette loves his laugh; his eyes go all sparkly and they crinkle at the edges. She still doesn’t hear him laugh enough, but she’s glad that it’s becoming a more frequent occurrence. “Remember being stuck with me the whole train ride there and back?”

“Oh my gosh, how could I forget? You practically force-fed be overpriced snacks and wouldn’t let me pay you back!” Marinette pokes him in the shoulder accusingly in mock outrage.

“Well I wasn’t going to let you starve, was I? And besides, from what I remember you declared that you were ‘willing and ready to just marry this popcorn already’.” He pokes her right back.

“Don’t use my own words against me!” Marinette huffs, folding her arms across her chest and sinking slightly into the bench. Adrien simply smirks at her and holy frick he should not be allowed to be that hot. Granted, he is a model and she is fully aware of that but, nevertheless, he should not look that fricking hot. In a strange moment of self-control, she does not blush and instead opts for sticking her tongue out at him like the mature adult she is.

Adrien is somewhat taken aback by Marinette’s sudden ability to stay cool and flirt back (yes, he will allow himself to believe that she is flirting) with him. He watches as she quirks her eyebrow before sticking her tongue out at him (her nose scrunches up in this really cute way) and he is struck with the realisation that Marinette manages to look both freaking adorable and actually kind of hot at the same time. He gulps slightly, turning slightly red when Marinette looks at him questioningly, and silently berates himself. The tables have really turned this time.

In an attempt to distract herself from the fact that she not only flirted shamelessly with Adrien Agreste but succeeded in making him bush, Marinette looks up at the sky. Adrien watches her as she squints at a cloud and chews her lip slightly and he finds himself having to also look up at the sky before his imagination runs away with him.

“Is it just me or does that cloud look like a duck wearing high-heels?” Marinette wonders aloud.

For a second Adrien simply stares at Marinette incredulously. The thought is so abstract and outright weird that he then bursts out laughing. “What?” he manages to spit out in between wheezes of laughter. “A duck wearing – how?”

“I’m being totally serious, Agreste.” Marinette deadpans. “Look, if you tilt your head that way and then quint your eyes very, very slightly.” Adrien does as she says and actually, it does kind of look like a duck wearing high-heels. He’ll give her that one, even if it is bizarre.

Seemingly out of nowhere, a ball flies towards them. A small girl, maybe about six or seven, stands a little way away, calling out an apology and running towards them although unable to outrun the ball.

“Adrien, watch your head!” Marinette exclaims, skilfully volleying the ball in the direction of the girl from where she’s awkwardly sitting, half-twisted to face the girl, on the bench. The girl runs closer to catch the ball and thank Marinette.

“Thanks! That was really cool!” The girl gushes to Marinette, tucking the ball under her arm and brushing her messy bangs from her eyes. She grins widely and Marinette chuckles at the fact that she’s missing a tooth. “Hey, aren’t you the guy who’s on the front of all those magazines? My sister Alma has all those magazines and posters and I’m pretty sure she’s in love with you. I’m Jaqueline, by the way. I guess I’ll tell Alma that she’s out of luck because your girlfriend is way prettier than she is and she just saved your life, and your face too, I guess. My sister’s over there by the way, I should probably get back. Do you think you could teach me how to do that? Alma is too busy writing her essay. I don’t get why she would come outside just to write an essay, she said it was something about ‘changing her environment’ or something.”

Marinette flushes red for a second but quickly recovers. She’s always amazed by how much kids can just talk and talk and talk. She’s also a little startled by how fearless this kid is; didn’t anyone teach her about stranger danger?

“Okay, Jaqueline,” Marinette begins. “How about you run back to your sister and bring her over here?” Marinette suggests. She leans in to whisper conspiratorially to the child. “That way, Alma can meet my friend Adrien over here, who’s not my boyfriend, and I can teach you to volley. Sound like a plan?” She grins as Jaqueline nods in affirmation and skips back to where her sister sits.

A short while later, after a particularly shrill shriek from where Jaqueline and Alma are, Adrien is looking slightly uncomfortable but more or less calm as Alma squeals and talks and then squeals some more. He’s used to the fangirl culture, but it’s been a while since he’s had to listen to a star-struck seventeen-year-old tell him facts about…well…himself. For the most part, Alma is nice though. He glances over to where Marinette is teaching Jaqueline to volley. He didn’t know she was so good with kids, he’s really in awe of her, to be completely honest.

Marinette catches Adrien’s glance and smiles, shrugging her shoulders slightly. She turns her attention back to Jaqueline, who stands a few feet away. “You want to make sure that your hands are firmly interlocked when you volley. If your stance is strong, your volley will be strong. If you don’t have that control, you won’t be able to get the ball as high as you want. Got it?”

“Got it.” Jaqueline sticks her tongue out in concentration, readying herself as Marinette gently volleys the ball towards her. The first couple attempts are disastrous and Adrien finds himself ducking a great deal, except for one unfortunate occasion on which the ball hits him square in the face. Marinette laughs. A lot.

After about twenty minutes, Alma, somewhat mournfully, decides that it’s time for them to go. Marinette and Adrien bid the two girls goodbye, agreeing to take a picture with them before they leave, before settling on the grass to continue cloud watching.

Across the gardens, Alya and Nino sit on the edge of the fountain, hands intertwined and Alya’s head resting on Nino’s shoulder. Nino smiles fondly down at her and his heartbeat speeds up ever so slightly. Even after five years of dating he’s still as lovestruck as he was as a teenager, maybe even more so.

He wants to do something special for Alya this year, especially seeing as last year their anniversary celebration consisted of ordering an extra-large pizza and watching reruns of I Love Lucy. He has nothing against I Love Lucy, per se; after all, it was helping Alya with her English fluency for her internship, but it wasn’t necessarily how he imagined their anniversary would be spent. He’s thinking something a little fancier this year, something a little more meaningful.

Sometimes he’s not sure how he got so lucky but he figures it’s best not to question it. If this is what the Universe wants for him he’ll happily take it.

“You’re quiet, everything okay?” Alya nudges him and lifts her head off his shoulder to look at him.

“Yeah, I’m great, babe,” Nino presses a kiss to her temple. “Just contemplating whether or not I can successfully push you into this fountain without getting dragged in myself.”

Alya snorts and swats him away. She knows Nino too well at this point; when he gets quiet like that it means he’s thinking about something serious. Lord knows he can’t keep his mouth shut for more than two minutes under normal circumstances. Her eyes rest on some squirrels chasing each other around, scrambling up and down tree trunks and darting in between the fence and she wishes that, for even just a couple moments, her life could be that carefree.

“I feel like that would be us if we were animals,” Nino muses. Alya hums, she’s not sure if squirrels are really how she’d describe them but she’ll go with it. “Squirrels? What squirr- oh. No, I was looking at those two pigeons over there. They’re fighting over bread.” Nino says seriously, pointing at the birds a little behind the squirrels. Alya gives him the most disbelieving look she can.

“You’re impossible.”

“Excuse you, I thought it was incredibly romantic!”

“Remind me why I haven’t broken up with you yet?” Alya stands and begins walking back around the fountain in the direction of the bench they left Marinette and Adrien sitting at, removing her glasses to wipe them clear from where the fountain spray spattered them and muttering about how if the anniversary goes anything like this the relationship it over.

“Al, you love me.” Nino jogs to catch up with her, grabbing her hand and swinging their arms back and forth.

Alya snatches her hand back and shoots him a pointed look. “You called me a pigeon.”

“Yes, but I also called myself a pigeon. Haven’t you seen The Notebook? If you’re a bird, I’m a bird?”

Alya’s jaw drops. “You just – what – Nino…” For the first time in a long time, Alya is left speechless. (She will admit that she is a little impressed that he just quoted The Noteboook at her, but she is not impressed enough to get off her high horse).

She storms her way all the way back to the bench, huffing very audibly. Marinette and Adrien look up from where they are now lying on the grass, completely absorbed in their cloud watching. Alya’s eyes instantly focus on where their hands are resting on the ground, mere millimetres apart from brushing, before zoning back in to their upper body language. Adrien’s left arm is bent at the elbow and his head rests on his hand. His body is ever so slightly turned towards Marinette and hers to him, her right hand resting lightly on her stomach. They have absolutely no idea how cute they look; to a stranger they could be just any other couple sharing a romantic afternoon looking up at the sky. Alya makes a solemn vow that she will get them together, even if she dies trying. (Okay, that might be a little dramatic but, then again, when is it ever not dramatic with these two?)

“So, uh, how was the walk?” Adrien asks, shifting slightly so that he is facing Alya a little more.

“It was…interesting,” she responds as she sits on the grass beside them. “Nino compared me to a pigeon.”

Marinette blinks at Alya a couple times, not really sure how to respond to this. Adrien turns his head to look at Marinette seemingly trying to find out how he should react to this information. Upon seeing Marinette’s confused look, Adrien is satisfied that he is also allowed to look appropriately confused.

“I also quoted The Notebook, Al. Don’t forget that bit.” Nino sinks down to the ground and wraps an arm around Alya’s shoulder, placing an over-exaggerated kiss on her cheek with a loud smack.

“Really, Nino? Nicholas Sparks? No wonder she stormed over here with a literal black cloud over her head.” Marinette scoffs as she props herself up on one elbow. From beside her Adrien gulps slightly and hopes to God that she didn’t hear him.

“Yeah, whatever, Mari. At least I tried, don’t I get points for effort?”

“Not this time, bro.” Marinette rolls onto her back with a smirk.

“Dammit.”

“We left you some snacks,” Adrien decides that changing the subject might be a good idea. “I had to physically restrain Mari from eating them all.”

Marinette rolls her eyes. Yes, in theory he had physically restrained her, but she wasn’t going to eat them all per se. Even then, his version of ‘physically restrain’ was in fact ‘snatch pastry out of Marinette’s hands and keep box far away from her’.

Alya and Nino stretch out on the grass beside Marinette and Adrien, munching on the leftover pastries. Nino muses aloud that this is almost like a double-date, which results in much coughing and blushing from Marinette and Adrien, and Alya responds in kind, lamenting the fact that this is not a double-date.

Double-date or not, the four of them spend the next hour pointing out particularly strangely shaped clouds, laughing their way into the early evening. They’ve had a little drama along the way, but Alya reckons that this road trip is definitely starting to look up. She curls into Nino’s side as the air begins to cool. He may have called her a pigeon and quoted the cheesiest film on earth to her, but she loves him.

Also he’s warm.

[gehayi]

Fandom Snowflake Challenge--Day 3

Day 3 In your own space, post recs for at least three fanworks that you did not create. For this, I thought I would rec all the stories that I have bookmarked that I thought need more love. All of them are complete (no WIPs, though I do wish some would continue). I made notes on some when I bookmarked them, so where those occur, they're included.

Also, this is LONG. You have been warned.

14th CENTURY CE RPF Hallowmas, Or Shortest Of Day by skazka Isabella, future girl-queen of England, receives a visit from a predecessor. Commentary: Melancholy and sweet, with wee Isabella as an adorable seven-year-old who's very much at sea and Anne of Bohemia as the gentlest and kindest of ghosts. It's A Terrible Reign by angevin2 A dying John of Gaunt, with the aid of his long-dead brother, walks the road not taken. Commentary: Wickedly deflates the "It's a Wonderful Life" premise simply by having John of Gaunt be himself--confident, convinced that what he wants is surely for the best, and blunt enough to point out that most of the awful stuff that could have happened DID happen anyway. Also, Gaunt and the Black Prince are both believable and hysterical as brothers. Jesu dulcis memoria by angevin2 Master Ladislaus's only regret is that his greatest masterpiece--the Wilton Diptych--is one born of grief. Commentary: Brief, sorrowful and stunningly beautiful. I had a lump in my throat when I finished reading it. Remembrance of a Weeping Queen by angevin2 Anne of Bohemia contemplates her purpose in life. Commentary: It’s not easy dealing with public crises while coping with private grief. If you like royal ladies who make a difference in their world and who smile sweetly and gently despite heartbreak, this is for you. *** A STUDY IN EMERALD - NEIL GAIMAN: R'Iyeh Is Not An Empty House by Trobadora It all began because of the woman. *** ARTHURIAN MYTHOLOGY Wheels Within Wheels by Philipa_Moss “Have you heard?” Linet asked. “She’s back.” *** AUSTIN & MURRY-O'KEEFE FAMILIES - MADELEINE L'ENGLE Galois Theory by primeideal Five times everything fell into place. That Unexpected Fateful Hour, Once Again at Hand by ElegantPi Charles Wallace is assigned two new classmates and a task, just before his winter holiday. Wordless by CG (NYCScribbler) Three times Calvin O'Keefe hasn't known what to say. *** BENJAMIN JANUARY MYSTERIES - BARBARA HAMBLY Escargots by Nary Rose was not one to offer platitudes for a man she hadn't known, to a man who hadn't cared about him. "What killed him?" she asked instead, for she couldn't think of any reason why Shaw would be telling her about this if it had been a natural death. "Poison's our best guess." He paused, as if considering how to most gently say what was coming next. "He took his final meal at the Hotel Iberville last night. So as you might imagine, I got a pressin' need to speak with your nephew, Gabriel Corbier." Commentary: This story belongs to the women, and deservedly so. Rose January/Janvier is brilliant and shrewd and a fantastic scientific detective in 1830s New Orleans, while her sister-in-law Olympe Corbier solves half the mystery by deducing what posion was used. It's sharp, smoothly written and as thoroughly researched as any of the books. Honestly, you could drop this into Barbara Hambly's Good Man Friday (the book in which Benjamin January goes off to Washington DC, a trip which Rose mentions in passing) and it would fit in seamlessly. I'm honestly not sure that the person who wrote this for me isn't Barbara Hambly. If you love historical mysteries, stories featuring characters of color, or both, then read this story. Five moments in the life of Augustus Mayerling by sevenofspade Becoming Augustus Mayerling is a process. Commentary: The details of how Augustus Mayerling became Augustus Mayerling. Detailed, sharp and utterly right. Headcanon accepted. Magnificat in New Orleans by Taabe On the eve of Benjamin and Rose Vitrac January's first Christmas in their new home, at the end of a Reveillón, Ben and Hannibal have a run-in with a less peaceful holiday tradition, and they and Rose take a in young stranger in more need of help than even they realize. Commentary: Dazzlingly beautiful, brilliantly researched, and powerful enough to make your heart ache. A magnificent Magnificat. *** BISCLAVRET - MARIE DE FRANCE J'ai Vu le Loup by Gileonnen The hunt collapses the distance between man and beast. Commentary: A canonical medieval gay werewolf. I love it. *** CADFAEL CHRONICLES - ELLIS PETERS A Flourish of Gold by thelittlestbird When a murder disrupts the peace conference that might end the Anarchy, Brother Cadfael must solve one last mystery. Fortunately, he has some very competent people to help him. *** CANTERBURY TALES - GEOFFREY CHAUCER Mordre, She Wroot by sistermagpie At least one pilgrim will not make it to Canterbury. *** CHRONICLES OF NARNIA - C.S.LEWIS Clipsie the Mariner by Transposable_Element The episode of the Dufflepuds and the Magician's book, from the point of view of the Chief's daughter, Clipsie. Dark and Deep by the_rck Tumnus delivers Lucy to the White Witch, and Aslan never comes. All four children end up in Jadis's hands, and she decides to see what she can mold them into. *** CROSSOVERS Chronicles of Narnia/Harry Potter And Bide the Danger by MiraMira Susan Pevensie: former Unspeakable, legendary beauty, possible Dark witch. A young Amelia Bones, eager to make her mark on MLE, has just been assigned to track her down. But the further Amelia proceeds with her investigation, the more questions she uncovers - especially once she meets Susan herself. Dark Tower/The Stand On the Plains of the Crimson King by magistera Eight years after Randall Flagg was defeated, life goes on in the much-reduced circumstances of post-Trips America. But when Fran and Stu's son begins to have disturbing (and all-too-familiar) dreams, it's a sign of change to come. Commentary: This ties together the stories of The Stand and The Dark Tower, blending the worlds and explaining why Flagg saw Fran Goldsmith's baby as so much of a threat. The tone and the characterization are spot-on, and there's one action scene early on that chilled me. And despite all the supernatural occurrences, which are handled beautifully, this world is solidly grounded. It feels real. Honest to God, if I didn't know better, I'd think that Stephen King fanficced himself. Doctor Who/Mrs. Pollifax - Dorothy Gilman Mrs. Pollifax and the Christmas Party by Emiline “Since you mention it, there was something else,” she admitted. “I’d like you both to come to my Christmas party this year.” With gate-crashing by the unstoppable Jack Harkness. Doctor Who/Wicked Voice - Vernon Lee The Sapphire of Rassilon by zopyrus All Grace Holloway wanted was an ordinary night at the San Francisco Opera. But when the Doctor shows up unexpectedly (again), Grace finds herself travelling back to 18th-century Venice—with a stop along the way to pick up the forgotten Victorian author, Vernon Lee. Murdered composers, lesbian drama, opera singers, and more! Commentary: A gorgeous crossover with the Eighth Doctor and a canon called A Wicked Voice, set mostly in Venice of the 1700s and 1800s. It's a gorgeous story--vivid and colorful, and capable of making you see the Venice of both time periods. This is a story to get lost it. Read it. You'll be glad that you did. Dresden Files - Jim Butcher/Tale of the Five Series - Diane Duane Fire Working by melannen Herewiss goes through a Door that is probably not the Door into Starlight, and meets a man who uses the Fire. Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare/Midsummer Night's Dream - Shakespeare/Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie Perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps. by fresne Perhaps, the story went this way. Perhaps, it went that way. Perhaps. *** DRESDEN FILES - JIM BUTCHER Johnny's Little Secret by shiplizard A mafia errand boy worries about his junior partner. Slash implied, friendship explicit. Rated Teen for language. *** EAGLES ARE TURNING PEOPLE INTO HORSES: THE MOVIE (2009) Eagles are Turning People Into Horses: The Movie: II: The Horses That Used To Be People But Were Turned Into Horses By Eagles Strike Back: The Revengening by KiaraSayre "This is real life, Brian. There's no ignoring the fact that eagles are turning people into horses. We just have to learn to live with it." Commentary: Glorious crackfic. Every line made me smile, grin or laugh. Quintessentially Yuletide. *** ELIZABETHAN AND JACOBEAN THEATRE & LITERATURE RPF Sad Stories of the Death of Kings by angevin It's 1593, and Kit Marlowe is trying out a new genre. Commentary: If you're intimidated by the canon's title, don't be. Kit Marlowe and Will Shakespeare are playwrights and rivals, each criticizing each other's work while writing plays that are strongly influenced by the same. Marlowe is gloriously OTT, as he was in real life, and Shakespeare is the ultimate fanboy who can't quite tell if his idol is flirting or not. This made me smile. A lot. *** EVERY HEART A DOORWAY - SEANAN McGUIRE The Mirror Cracked From Side to Side by Amazing_E_Ko Nancy has left her old life behind, but when Jack comes tumbling through a portal bearing news of an apocalypse, her sister speaking prophecy from beyond death, Nancy is pulled back into the world of living, breathing things. With the help of Kade and Christopher they must unravel the mystery of the disappearing worlds, and uncover the truth behind all their journeys. Post-canon. Commentary: Absolute magic. I am not entirely certain that the writer isn't really Seanan McGuire. And I am so very grateful that I found this story. *** FAIRY TALES AND FOLKLORE Der Rattenfänger von Hameln | The Pied Piper of Hamelin (Fairy Tale) If I Miss You Call the Tune by lalalalalawhy It is 100 light years since our children left. Commentary: A fairy tale retelling in space. Heartwrenching and so, so good. Sneedronningen | The Snow Queen - Hans Christian Andersen The Enchanted Hawk by Alona In which the robber girl encounters a dysfunctional royal family and makes the most of it. Commentary: The robber girl--no longer so little--is beautifully sly, cunning and practical, defying conventions both in her world and in ours. She doesn't assume that enchanted animals are necessarily truthful, she takes the time to scout out a situation, and she knows what she wants and goes after it cheerfully and unashamedly. I'd love to read more about her and her adventures. *** FALLEN LONDON (FORMERLY ECHO BAZAAR) Fortune, Fate, Freedom by escritoireazul Are we the sum of our choices, or are we our fate? Commentary: A Choose Your Own Adventure tale about the Cheesemonger, the finest of all spies. Hard To Find by Kastaka As if the Comtessa would let a little thing like social ostracism stand in her way. Commentary: When this was first published, it was the first Echo Bazaar fic I'd ever seen, and it continues the story of the subject character--the Missing Comtessa--smashingly, not to mention capturing the atmosphere of the twisted world of Fallen London so well. If you know the game of Echo Bazaar, you'll love it. If you don't know the game, you'll STILL love it, plus the story may inspire interest in the game. Either way, you win! or leave it by anstaar A tough shares their story. *** FIREFLY Can’t Take The Sky by Glinda Serenity does not understand grief; Serenity understands grief all too well. Inundation by lilacsigil When knowledge is power, it's important to keep knowledge controlled. Shepherd Book is here to help. *** GREEK AND ROMAN MYTHOLOGY Medusa's Tale by Area51Fugitive Ah. You've come. I knew you would. Commentary: The very best retelling of the Medusa myth I've ever read, and the only one that ever made me cry. *** HARRY POTTER - J.K. ROWLING Poseidon's Prisoner by esteoflorien Young Cassiopeia Black sets off in search of her brother - and receives assistance from an unlikely person, making her reconsider the way she previously viewed her world. *** HIGHLANDER: THE SERIES Mnemosyne by Medie Wounds of the flesh heal easily for Immortals, the ones of the soul, less so. Commentary: A sympathetic and angry Cassandra, after the Horsemen Arc. *** HIS DARK MATERIALS - PHILIP PULLMAN Valleys of the Shadows by finch (afinch) This is not a happy story. This is the story of three girls who find themselves in the middle of a new African war. There are witches' revolts, daring escapes, the killing of the bears, echoes of freedom, the lack of mercy of the pirates, chains stronger than any steel, and three deaths, one by one by one. This is not a happy story, there are no happy endings, no miracles, no subtle knife, and no angels. This is the story of three girls, a slave, an unwilling pawn, and a refugee. This is story of three girls and three dæmons. *** INVISIBLE LIBRARY: FANWORKS BASED ON IMAGINARY WORKS MENTIONED IN FICTION Miserable Les, Les Misérables - All Media Types, Discworld - Terry Pratchett Truth! Justice! Freedom! Reasonably-priced love! And a black coffee! by greenet Wherein everybody is protesting, drinking a whole lot of coffee, and falling in and out of love. Nina Lightfingers learns to appreciate the elegance of a lady’s fan wielded with murderous intent, Petiterre is over-caffeinated, Evgeni is banned from reading self-help books, and Brusher is over-protective. Among other things. Commentary: If Terry Pratchett had written an in-universe musical about the events of Night Watch, it would have been this story. That is to say, it would have been perfect. P.S. Miserable Les is mentioned as a possible opera in Maskerade. *** JOHN LEWIS CHRISTMAS ADVERTS Please, please, please... by AdaptationDecay Lewis knows exactly what he wants for Christmas. Commentary: This is a stealth crossover, but I'm not going to mention what it's crossed with. That would spoil the impact of the reveal. *** MARY POPPINS (1964) Pictures in the Pavement and Magic in the Rain by El Staplador (elstaplador) Time moves on, and when the wind changes, things happen. Usually Mary Poppins is there, somewhere. *** NCIS No Such Thing by circ_bamboo There's no such thing as zombies. (Or: People should have realized that, sooner or later, pouring the liquefied remnants of corpses in the municipal water supply was going to lead to zombies.) Commentary: Absolutely the best and the funniest zombie story I've ever read! The NCIS team is spot-on as a bad situation snowballs gloriously. Also, I will never think of cedar shavings, sodium intake or tiki torches the same way again! P.S. Here are more sources about resomation: http://www.bbc.com/news/science-environment-14114555 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alkaline_hydrolysis_(body_disposal) https://funeralbooker.com/blog/everything-need-know-resomation/ *** ONCE UPON A TIME (TV) Staying Found by misscam “I will always find you,” they say. And they did. Now they just have to get used to having been found again, together again, a relationship again, all the little things again. [Snow/Charming + minor Emma, Henry, Belle] *** PETER PAN - J.M. BARRIE The Art of Becoming by LostWendy1 “Every child is affected thus the first time he is treated unfairly. All he thinks he has a right to when he comes to you to be yours is fairness. After you have been unfair to him he will love you again, but will never afterwards be the same boy. No one ever gets over the first unfairness; no one except Peter. He often met it, but he always forgot it. I suppose that was the real difference between him and all the rest.” (Peter Pan, Barrie) Commentary: The story of Mr. Darling--and the origins of Captain Hook. *** PRINCELESS There's No Such Thing As Elegators by psocoptera Sparky, Adrienne, and Bedelia have an encounter in the grasslands. Commentary: You don't often hear stories from the dragon's point of view. *** REBECCA - DAPHNE DU MAURIER A Thousand Words, Or Simply Three by Skogkatt Danny, faced with a new mistress of vastly inferior rank, ruminates on the past. *** RUBYQUEST Rubyquest II: The Island by AdaptationDecay In your inventory, you have two walkie-talkies and an empty champagne bottle. Time to save the world... *** SHAKESPEARE King Lear - Shakespeare 'Tis Strange by lorata Lear Enterprises' CEO prepares to divide his company's controlling shares between his daughters and their subsidiaries. Edmund, non-powered and disaffected son in a superhero family, plots to turn villain. Regan and Goneril abandon their father to the zombies after he endangers their safehouses one too many times. Gloucester scours open space for the former commander of the star system, set adrift in a malfunctioning lifepod. Cordelia and her dragon prepare to take on her sisters with the help of the French aerial dragon corps. Some stories aren't just universal, they're multiversal. The tale of King Lear, from eleven different worlds. When She Was Bad by lorata LEAR: Then let them anatomize Regan. See what breeds about her heart. Is there any cause in nature that makes these hard hearts? Act 3, Scene 6 SERVANT: If she live long, And in the end meet the old course of death, Women will all turn monsters. Act 3, Scene 7 Even the sweetest pup will bite if handled roughly, and Regan is no innocent. The making of a girl who embraced her demons and turned them to her purpose. Richard II - Shakespeare A Signet On Thine Arm by skazka Kisse he me with the cos of his mouth. For thi tetis ben betere than wyn, and yyuen odour with beste oynementis. Richard and Anne make out in the bath. Privilege by angevin2 Richard kissed a girl and he liked it. And then things got really complicated. Six Variations on Loyalty by angevin2 The King's party (for it is, in fact, still the King's party) has not even left Flint Castle for London before Henry of Hereford, now styling himself Henry of Lancaster, begins trying to seduce Edward of Aumerle. Thy Rebuke Hath Broken His Heart by Aris Merquoni (ArisTGD) Soulbonds between men and women are the most romantic form of marriage in the known world. Soulbonds between men and men make bards and poets salivate with the prospect of terrible, epic tragedy. Richard and Henry think that bards and poets are assholes. Romeo and Juliet - Shakespeare Starling by loathlylady Rosaline in the hot sun. *** STORIES BASED ON ARTWORKS La fiancée hésitante | The Hesitant Betrothed - Auguste Toulmouche Les Femmes Acharnées by Violsva Blanche has a plan, Céleste has a plan - really, everyone has a plan. Commentary: An excellent story of marriage, murder and female friendship. *** SWAN LAKE (BALLET) Juno's Swans by La Reine Noire (lareinenoire) And wheresoever we went, like Juno's swans, / Still we went coupled and inseparable. *** THE GOBLIN EMPEROR - KATHERINE ADDISON Passage by bigsunglasses Released from his role as Prince by the birth of a son to the Emperor and Empress, Idra is allowed to attend university. But he can't escape his past so easily, or perhaps at all, particularly not when he meets someone who walks under a similar shadow ... Three years post-canon. *** THE SANDMAN The First Conversation with Death by evilhippo What happens when someone is no longer an aspect of the Endless? (An imagined epilogue to The Wake.) *** THOMAS OF WOODSTOCK (PLAY) like brambles to the cedars by angevin2 Queen Anne isn't used to English customs. It doesn't help that her husband and his uncles can't agree on what they are. Commentary: This is the story of a gentle young woman adjusting to life far from home and adjusting to political currents she doesn’t quite understand. If you like sweet and feminine Sansa Stark singing songs or sewing expertly, you’ll love this. *** THURSDAY'S CHILDREN - RUMER GODDEN A Bitter God to Follow by Bakcheia In which everybody is in love with ballet dancer Yuri Koszorz, including Yuri. Commentary: A story of seductive charm and self-absorption. Yuri is a likable young man, even as he heedlessly captivates everyone around him, not caring whether anyone gets hurt. *** WATERSHIP DOWN - RICHARD ADAMS The Story of Hrayatha and the Rabbit Who Left No Tracks by Luzula Pipkin listens to a story. Post-canon. *** WENDY TRILOGY - S.J. TUCKER (SONG CYCLE) Always keep your head by LeaperSonata So Wendy'd got herself a crew of ruthless men and brave and they'd terrorize the Lost Boys each and every Saturday. One day Wendy says to Peter, "I'd like more girls on my crew." So Peter goes a-hunting Lost Girls and brings back Green-eyed Sue. Commentary: You don't have to know S.J. Tucker's songs--specifically, the Wendy Trilogy--to understand this story about the time when Wendy Darling became a pirate called Red-Handed Jill. This story is about Green-Eyed Sue, Jill's first mate, but more than that, it's about finding the place where you belong. Most of all, it's about identity and love and being honest with yourself. Highly recommended. Journey's End by eris_kyrall (kereia) The decision to go back home had not come easily to Wendy Darling, and the hardest part of it was saying goodbye. Commentary: This story deals with Wendy's departure from Neverland, but it treats her decision to leave as right and natural, as if Wendy were a potted plant that had outgrown its container. At the same time, it shows that those who didn't follow Wendy home were also right. Also, I love the female friendship in this story. Bittersweet.

[bigyack-com]

How Many Hotel Brands Is Enough?

How many hotel brands is enough? Hilton and Choice Hotels International are putting that question to the test, with two new lodging brands focused on helping travelers maintain their healthy eating, sleeping and fitness habits on the road. The new entries join already-robust portfolios — Hilton’s Tempo will be the company’s 18th nameplate and Everhome Suites will be Choice Hotels’ 13th.They aren’t the only lodging companies to take the more-is-better approach. Marriott manages 30 brands and Hyatt has 20. Despite the crowded marketplace, hotel companies believe there is an opportunity and even an imperative to present an array of options.A variety of accommodation types and prices lets hotel companies present themselves as a one-stop shop for the varying needs of customers. A solo business traveler to big cities may also take her family on a beach vacation, plan a multigenerational trip or book a romantic getaway. Hotels want to offer choices for each of those needs and more, “because if they don’t have it, the customer will spend their travel dollars elsewhere,” said Bonnie Knutson, a professor in the School of Hospitality Business at Michigan State University.Tying more brands together with loyalty programs also helps the hotels lock in travelers. “The more opportunities a hotel company can offer to travelers to earn free stays, the harder it is to leave the brand,” Dr. Knutson said.Additionally, offering a complete portfolio within one hotel family website is a defensive move against Airbnb, Expedia and other online booking sites that offer hundreds or thousands of lodging choices. Sites like Expedia’s have “blurred the distinction between brands and created price wars,” according to Alina Wheeler, author of the comprehensive guide, Designing Brand Identity.Phil Cordell, the global head of new brand development at Hilton, said to create a new brand, a hotel needs to decide what it’s going to stand for, how it will be different from what’s already out there and if there are enough customers who fit the target market.In a news release announcing Tempo, Hilton described it as “an approachable lifestyle brand curated to serve a growing segment of ‘modern achievers.’” Translation: It’s aimed at shorter-stay travelers who want to maintain their food, fitness and emotional wellness routines while they are away from home, said Mr. Cordell. Forty percent of guest rooms’ square footage is devoted to a “get ready zone,” apart from the sleeping area. Videos to help guests meditate, relax or fall asleep are available on the TV. “It’s more than three pillow choices or a couple of healthy options on the menu,” he said.Everhome Suites from Choice, whose flagship brand Comfort Hotels has over 2,100 hotels worldwide, will offer apartment-style rooms that can be customized by the guest, with open shelving, large bathroom and kitchen counters and a rolling workstation that can be raised to become a standup desk or lowered for dining. The idea is to let guests create a “me-space,” said Pat Pacious, the chief executive of Choice Hotels International. Mr. Pacious said that 20 percent of all room nights sold in the United States are rooms that are booked for seven nights or more, but only nine percent of rooms are designed for extended stays.Hotel brand proliferation is made possible, at least in part, by the changing financial structure of the hotel industry. The largest lodging companies have moved to an “asset light” model over the last 10 to 15 years, meaning they don’t own many of the hotels that bear their names. Instead, they franchise them, offering the owners the name, services and sometimes management. It takes significant investment to design, market and maintain each brand, but with less cash tied up in physical properties, the hotel company can spread its investments and efforts across more brands.But with brand proliferation comes the challenge of differentiating one brand from another. That hotel in Moses Lake, Wash., offering free breakfast, parking and WiFi, and an indoor pool, for around $100 per night — is it the Ramada by Wyndham or the Wingate by Wyndham? Brands within the same family can also end up competing for the same customer, driving prices lower.There is a “a bewildering array of choices,” said Ms. Wheeler.In a crowded marketplace, companies have to look even harder for ways to make themselves memorable and connect with customers, said Ms. Wheeler. The best brands amplify their competitive differences, and seize every opportunity to assure customers they have made the right choice, she said.Communicating those differences can be challenging. Hyatt groups some of its brands into a “timeless portfolio” of “classic brands” like Park Hyatt and Grand Hyatt, and a “boundless portfolio” of so-called “lifestyle brands” like Hyatt Centric and Andaz. Categories on Marriott’s website include “Premium” hotels like Marriott and Sheraton that offer “sophisticated and thoughtful amenities and services,” and “Select” hotels like Courtyard by Marriott and Aloft Hotels offering “smart and easy amenities and services.”Tempo properties will be located in and around cities, including New York, Dallas, Washington and Lexington, Ky. The first will open in mid 2021. The first Everhome Suites is expected to open in 2021 in Corona, Calif., with others to follow in the Los Angeles and Austin areas.52 PLACES AND MUCH, MUCH MORE Discover where you should go in 2020, and find more Travel coverage by following us on Twitter and Facebook. And sign up for our Travel Dispatch newsletter: Each week you’ll receive tips on traveling smarter, stories on hot destinations and access to photos from all over the world. Read the full article