#but in the end everything became “soapy” anyway
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xrabell · 1 year ago
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So… It took a lot longer to draw than I thought.
This is a test comic to understand my mistakes and remember… some points. I have a lot of ideas, but I guess I need to change my skills better first.
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simpjaes · 11 months ago
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dilf!jay and babysitter!reader 🫣
- 💗
this has been sitting in my inbox for a while and i think about it consistently.
like, single dad jay hiring the hottest girl he can find on purpose? getting turned on by the way you clean up after your messes in the short moments he sees you? Loving the way you mother his child in a way a wife would? In the way a mother would? dilf jay, fisting his cock in the middle of the night despite him needing to be up at 6am for work, thinking about the way your shirt looked when he came in from work just the night before, soapy suds soaking through the fabric on your chest? dilf jay, wanting a completed family so bad that his thoughts are centered around you, the college girl who is just trying to make a bit of extra cash to pay for her books....what happens if he just buys those books for you on top of your pay? What happens when he buys you a new car so you can stop worrying about your old junker breaking down? what happens when he asks you to spend the weekend with him and his child on vacation?
who knows? all you know is that Jay is hot, and his child is not only manageable, but an absolute angel most days.
of course you don't think twice when the two of you are sipping wine on said vacation, and his hand strays. of course, you spread your legs for him when he slides his hand down, whispering words of "you ever thought of being a mother?" and "i would take such good care of you, baby, think about it for me, yeah?" and he did take care of you at the end of the day. with the college expenses, gas for your new car, spending money, a house stocked with food and hobbies you could pick up if you wanted to. That little babysitting job became almost a full time job outside of classes, with a boss too willing to make it worth the time. Were you a baby sitter at this point, or just a paid wife to roleplay with him? was it really even roleplaying even? When you find yourself in your dorm room wishing you were in his bed again? Wishing that you could wake up to that nice fucking kitchen, with the nice fucking big screen television, and the nice fucking cock he's always willing to get wet for you? Always sliding in nice and easy, cooing in your ear about everything you could have if you stay? is it really roleplay at this point? what's so wrong with being a wife so young anyway? After all, his kiddo already begs for you when you're not there, he's told you that much. plus, the idea of some other girl coming in and babysitting turns your stomach to knots. Jay is yours, and the darling child of his? You love them far too much to let go at this point too. You're locked in, and you don't mind it a single bit.
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gothsoyl · 22 days ago
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I think Soapy would be the sweetest, cutest girlfriend...I mean, she seems like a sweet, cute person.
I want to be her actress girlfriend😭
Imagine having met her at the time she was recording Prospect with Pedro Pascal, because you knew Pedro from a previous project and were in the same city as them at the time of the recordings, so he introduced you <3 you both became colleagues at the time, nothing really very close or deep but you exchanged social networks.
When the cast of Yellowjackets started being cast it was a surprise for both of you that you had been cast for characters that later on in the story would become a couple (Travis and Nat didn't happen in this scenario), anyway, this ends up really bringing you both closer together and you become great friends this time, always hanging out and spending time together outside of the scenes.
Whether it's having lunch together, resting, going to a café or a bar/karaoke at night, it doesn't matter because they're always together. With the success of the first season, they're both starting to be shipped a lot by fans, especially with all the photos and behind-the-scenes content they have together😭
Fast forward to now, I imagine fans going crazy over everything about season 3 and every little bit of both behind the scenes or outside🤭🤭 they would both have fun with the edits and fan posts about them.
I also think that the friendship would slowly start to progress into something more, like a slow burn and they would both have a first slightly drunken kiss after a night of karaoke😩😩😩 a slow and laughing kiss when leaving the bar, which MAYBE takes them both to the hotel room... the rest is up to you
But in a scenario where both of them start dating, things would probably progress slowly but comfortably until it actually becomes a relationship, where both of them go out alone more and more frequently and on small, sweet dates, lots of slow, soft kisses, with both of them just exploring and getting to know this new intimacy.
Can you make a short fic and bot about this?
-🙄
"Accident" sophie thatcher x reader note: sorry it took so long!!! aaaggghh character.ai and janitor.ai
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you haven't even noticed at what point sophie becomes an important part of your life.
you met completely by chance. or almost by accident. pedro introduced you after you visited him on the set in washington while he was acting in prospect. you were passing through there, just decided to visit friends and initially meeting with pedro wasn’t in the plans.
but you can’t complain, can you?
“this is sophie,” he nods at the girl next to him and you immediately smile, extending your hand to her. she looks at you intently, as if trying to study you, but still shakes your hand.
“I like your style,” you chuckle, feeling as awkward as possible next to her. for some reason, it was so weird to get to know someone, especially in this way. It's like you're imposing your communication... and what to do next?
“thanks, this is my favorite outfit actually,” her lips stretch in a smile and she glances at the astronaut costume she just wore for the movie scene.
and what was the moment you thought that she has a beautiful smile. 
***
“are we going to rehearse our kiss or is it too cliche?” you flinch when you feel someone's hand on your shoulder, but immediately a smirk escapes your lips when you realize that it's sophie.
you just read the script for the first season of the yellowjackets... or rather, you were distracted all the time to look at sophie, who was sitting next to you and also looked at you with a slight smile. 
and what was your surprise when you realized that you would have to play a couple. you've always felt uncomfortable with such scenes, but for some reason now you felt a strange pleasure. there wasn't that weird tension about the thought of having to kiss someone on set. 
maybe sophie was just very likeable.
“are you so impatient to kiss me?” you laugh smugly, meeting the girl's gaze, to which she just rolls her eyes theatrically. 
“I think about it all the time,” she nudges you a little in the side and starts walking towards the exit.
you're a little slow, but you're still in a hurry to follow her. for some reason, you like how easy Sophie is around you and it makes you feel better.
***
when the first season of the yellowjackets finally came out, the only thing you did on a daily basis was watch a bunch of edits and arts with you and sophie. you were always put in a stupor when fans tried to ship you with someone from the cast, even if your characters had a relationship. after all, that's the whole point of your job, that you and your character are not the same thing. 
but it was different with sophie.
you were excited by silly pinterest memes with your characters and you sincerely smiled when you saw edits on tiktok to one of taylor swift's songs. at some point, you accidentally sent one of the shipping posts to sophie and already thought about burying yourself alive from the shame that immediately piled on you, but only smiled stupidly when you saw her short message “us fr!!".
***
“you appear together so often that you look like a couple,” the interviewer says one day, and you immediately feel the corners of your lips lift, but you try to restrain yourself from grinning.
“we just got in touch,” sophie says and gives you a knowing look. she crosses her legs and shrugs, “she's an amazing friend.”
“you forgot to add 'girl' in front of a ‘friend’,“ you immediately playfully remark, realizing that all your attempts to restrain yourself are flying to the bottom, but do you really care?
the interviewer immediately laughs, and sophie, without wasting time, gently puts her hand on your knee and looks at you through slightly lowered eyelashes.
“baby, let's talk about this at home.”
and why are you blushing so much at this moment?
***
“wait a minute!” you laugh and try to catch up with sophie, but she just jumps from puddle to puddle, spraying rainwater even harder.
you just wanted to spend an hour in a restaurant, as you often did. at some point, it became a routine where you often just arranged an evening together: went to coffee shops and decided where the coffee was better, making a personal map of your favorite places, visited markets where sophie didn’t miss a chance to point at some strange and old picture with a dog and say “it’s you’ and just spent all your free time together.
you liked it. you didn't even really pay attention to the fact that your friendship was becoming less and less like friendship. there was more to it than that, but you were so involved with sophie and relaxed that you didn't even think about it. you just enjoyed every second with a girl, which makes you smile until your cheekbones hurt.
you just wanted to spend an hour in a restaurant, but it's two o'clock in the morning and you've just left the karaoke club. perhaps in the morning you will be ashamed of the way you screamed at the top of your voice another lady gaga’s song (although lady gaga makes everything much better), but now you don't care about that – you’re happily running after sophie, who douses you with water from puddles. 
you feel raindrops falling on your head, but you can’t focus on them. more important is the way sophie wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you to her house, where you've been a hundred times.
you don't try to pull away, on the contrary, you reach closer to her, run your fingers through her tangled wet hair and whisper that you both can get sick. but sophie doesn't seem to care about this – she just presses her forehead against yours and her hot breath scorches your lips, and your head starts to spin from adrenaline and alcohol in your blood.
you kiss her awkwardly and completely foolishly, and sophie snuggles closer to you, digging her fingers into your skin.
you don't care if anyone sees you.
and she doesn't give a damn about it either.
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maethegay · 7 months ago
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Make up
A/n: I am no good at skincare, make up or fashion but I tried gang please forgive also this is way longer than I thought it was gonna be oops.
I grew up with two parents in the army and my two older brothers. We moved around a lot I never really made friends moving every few months or even years made it hard.
I was also incredibly socially awkward so that didn’t help when it came to making friends. I had my brothers and basketball to me that was enough.
I was six when my dad got me my first basketball. He taught me a few things and I became obsessed. Every day after school I’d go to the court near my house and spend hours dribbling and shooting. Some times my brothers came but they had their own things.
Caleb my oldest brother made friends super easy he always managed to have a group of people around him. And Adam my younger brother liked soccer. He tried to teach me to play but it was not for me.
Anyway due to the fact I struggled to make friends and the only people I talked to where my parents and brothers I never learned how to do anything with make up or fashion.
Not that I didn’t try. Whenever I did I ended up looking like a little boy. I did prefer a more masculine dress but I could never find an outfit that fit me. I am ashamed to admit but I do have more than one Nike tech outfit in my closet.
When Geno recruited me from UConn it was like a dream. I first got to the team and I was so awkward but Nika helped. She sat down right next to me and started talking.
She was my first friend and she helped me make friends on the team. And in class and on campus.
Now I was in my last year of college. Me and Nika had been dating for over two years and I had more friends than I thought possible.
My head rested on her chest, her hand gently tangling through my hair. My hand rested on her stomach drawing shapes against her soft skin.
Everything was perfect except one thing. I never really felt pretty. I wanted to do make up and dress how I would think looks good. But whenever I try I just get turned around and confused.
Nika was good at fashion and makeup she always looked good. I had thought about asking her so many times to help me. But it was something I never really knew how to bring up.
Another part of me never bringing it up was pressure from past relationships. When I had tried to do this stuff with past relationships and I had been told no cause ‘Mascs shouldn’t care about that stuff’.
Obviously now being with Nika I know those relationships were toxic but I still couldn’t get rid of the thoughts.But Nika was different I knew she wouldn’t get upset.
“Ni?” I murmur pulling away slightly to look at her. She smiled softly and brushed my hair from my face. “Can you help me with like fashion and stuff. I know I don’t really act like I care but I wanna feel pretty sometimes to ya know.”
Nika gave me a giddy smile cupping my face in her hand. She had asked to do my makeup and skincare before but as you know internalized hate from my exs made me to scared.
“Of course. Tomorrow 8am I’m taking you on a shopping spree and for tonight baby we’re doing skincare.”
I smiled and took her hand dragging her to the bathroom. I jumped up onto the counter and looked at her as she grabbed a bunch of stuff and put it on the counter.
“Frog head band or shark,” she said showing me two fluffy head bands.
“Shark obviously.” I say snatching the head band from her left hand. She smiled and put on the other.
“Now this is definitely not something to do every night. But it is fun once every now and then.” I nod an watch her grab the first bottle turn out this first bottle was like one of a million things we would be doing.
After like 7 other steps she put a face mask on me. I made the horrible mistake of licking my lips.
“Ew Nika this tastes horrible.” I say as I spit in the sink which did not make the horrible soapy taste leave my mouth. Nika laughed and kissed my lips.
“You’re not supposed to get in your mouth.” She laughed and she pulled off the mask. She used a washcloth and rubbed of the extra residue.
There were a few more steps and I was practically falling asleep by the time Nika was done. I smiled leaning my head against her shoulder. I still sat on the counter, Nikas hand scratched my back and she kissed my head.
“Come on baby. Big day tomorrow.” She said, her hands slid under my thighs and lifted me off the counter. I wrapped my arms around her neck.
Nika always made me feel safe and comfortable. She helped me break down my shell and let me feel like I could be well a girl.
She carried me over to the bed and laid me down pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“I love you Nika,” I mumble as I close my eyes pulling our blanket up to cover my face.
“I love you too. I’m glad you feel safe with me.” She said laying behind me. Her hand grabbed my hip and pulled me into her my back colliding with her front.
“Mhm,” I mumble as Nika’s hands dipped under my shirt to trace more shapes on my torso. It’s something she had always done and something I had always loved.
I woke up before Nika she slept comfortably I smiled and pulled her close to me. I held her close to me. My hand gently scratching her back.
I leaned back and looked at the clock it was only 6:30 and I decided I’d let her sleep in awhile longer. I was comfortable and the feeling of the brunette’s body against mine was perfect.
I still struggled to believe she was mine. The Croatian who laid in front of me was simply unfathomable to my mind.
She was actual perfection. She was beautiful, her silky brown hair and big brown doe eyes. She was hilarious without even trying. She so was determined I’ve never seen someone work so hard.
I heard a whine come softly from her mouth, that was how I knew she was walking up. I kissed her head and looked down her big eyes looking at me.
Nika was not a morning person she whines and shut her eyes slamming her head into my chest. I laughed tangling my hand in her hair holding her head against my chest.
“We gotta go shopping baby. Pretty me up and shit,” I whisper, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. She looked up and me glaring slightly.
“You’re already pretty. You just dress like a 10 year old boy.” She said her voice strong with her accent. I smiled and laughed with her. “I’m going to call my parents and then love we’re going shopping.”
“Ok baby,” I say leaning back in the pillows as Nika got up and walked to the bathroom. She always got ready while she talked to her parents.
I laid in bed staring at the ceiling, eventually I fell back asleep. I didn’t even know until I heard Nika laughing her ass off. I peeled my eyes opened and glared at her.
“What is so funny,” I said my voice cracking since I had just woke up again. She laughed and turned her phone to me.
It was a picture of me. Not only was I knocked out asleep, but my mouth was wide open and had hair all over the place.
“Nika Muhl you better delete that,” I say reaching for her phone she turned away pulling it to her chest.
“But you’re so cute,” she said sticking out her bottom lip in a pout. She leans down and kisses my lips.
“You better not show no one that,” I mutter as I stumble to the bathroom. I promptly get ready, brushing my hair and teeth and pulling on some baggy jeans and a white tee. “I’m ready to go shopping,” I say jumping out of the bathroom and looking at Nika who laid on our now made bed.
She looked up from her phone and smiled at me. I walked over and leaned slightly forward again for bed frame.
“I’m so excited. And I ordered Starbucks for while we shop so we need to pick it up.” She tells me grabbing her purse from the night stand. I push myself up and take her hand in mine
We had decided to take Nika’s car since it was better on gas and much smaller than my truck so leaving after shopping at that mall which would be almost certainly packed since it was Saturday would be easier.
I insisted on driving even though she had volunteered. Nika wants to drive most of the time and I’m not complaining but I felt useless if I didn’t. She was planning the whole day to help me the least I could do was drive.
We made a quick stop at the Starbucks just off campus and I ran inside to grab me and Nika’s drinks. She got a matcha of some sort and she had order my favorite drink for me.
The drive to the mall we had decided to go to, well Nika decided we go to was about an hour away from campus. Hence us waking up early to go. We left around 9 so we’d get there just as the shops open.
I’m not one for crowds so going when it’s first opening when there are less people is for the better.
The whole drive Nika’s hand rested on my thigh. We talked now and again about school, and she told me how her family was doing back in Croatian. We spoke about my oldest brothers wedding which was coming up in about 2 months and how we still needed to get Nika a dress.
We reached the mall, the parking lot was slowly filling up but not full enough to where we couldn’t find a spot.
“Where to first?” I ask, usually I only went to a store or two. Most of what I wore was the same plain shirt is 2 dozen colors, sweat pants and jeans.
“Well I made a pin board while we drove. It’s just some things I think look good and we could see what you like or don’t like.” She leaned over showing me her phone which somehow had 100 pins.
I nodded and told her which things I liked and didn’t like. I didn’t care for the shoulderless shirts, or the random flannels or extra unbuttoned shirts that were different color.
Nika didn’t seem offended when I said things she just nodded, removed the pin and moved on asking if I liked the next outfit.
I found I liked the baggier pants, and jorts especially with baggy shirts. Which I also helped me find I liked graphic tees and when they had long sleeves under.
Nika told me I liked streetwise aesthetic which i didn’t really get but I nodded along anyway.
Nika lead me into like 7 different stores where I managed to try on 20 different things every time. I didn’t like everything some shirts were to boxy and some of the pants drooped to low for my liking.
There were some things I loved though and after the first few stores of the day my arms were full of bags.
I was happy but damn was I tired. I flopped down on a bench and rested my head on Nika’s stomach as she stood in front of me. She laughed and ran her hand up and down my back.
“How are you feeling,” she asked as I looked up at her.
“Girl I am so tired,” I groan “How do people do this for fun?” I ask leaning my head back. A laugh fell from Nika’s lips.
I loved when she laughed. Sometimes I just talked about dumb stuff because I knew Nika would laugh. It was so perfect every time. I think it was one of the first things I fell in love with about her.
“Admit it you were having funny when you were trying things on.” She said as she set a few of my bags down on the ground next to us. I smiled and looked back at her.
“Yeah I guess it was kinda fun playing dress up.” I smile and kiss her temple. “Where to next?” I ask picking up the bags.
“Let’s go drop these off at the car. And the take a quick trip to Sephora and maybe Ulta.” she said, I nodded and followed behind her to the car. We loaded everything in the trunk and a few bags in the back seat.
Nika took my hand and lead me into the store. This was what I was most nervous about. At least I kinda understood clothes makeup did not make sense. Sure I have watched Nika do her make up hundreds of times but none of it made sense.
“I don’t think we’re gonna get foundation I know you don’t like having to much on your face.” She said as she pulled me towards the concealer.
“You’re right. I would feel like I’m wearing face paint all the time.” I agree as I follow behind her. Her eyes looked between the seemingly dozens of different concealers.
She would look at me and the back and the concealer. She would grab one then look at me again and grab another one. She had about six different shades after a few minutes. If you asked me it was excessive but than again I’m not a makeup person.
“Give me your wrist.” Nika said with an outstretched hand. I reached out my arm so she could test the concealer. She did a swatch and then would tell me about how it was too orange or too light.
To be honest I zoned out and just thought about how cute her voice was and how concentrated she looked as she compared the different colors to my skin. God she’s cute.
“I think this one will be good. Don’t you love?” She said pointing to the fifth swatch on my arm. I looked down and sure enough it blended into my skin quite well.
“Oh that’s nice.” My eyes trailed the rest of my arm “I kinda look like a zebra.” I say twisting my arm in the light, she laughs softly and puts the concealers away minus the one I was getting of course.
“Let’s get some blush, mascara, eyelash curler, eye brow gel and a brush. And ooo primer. We can just get you the kind I like. And then you already have a collection of summer Fridays so we’re good there.”
90% of what Nika has just said didn’t make sense to me. Summer Fridays did though. For some reason I tried Nika’s one time and fell in love with it. I had every flavor minus the mint one. I don’t like mint.
We bought the rest of the stuff and holy shit was make up expensive. Nika also explained to me I can’t just get make up wipes I should use micellar water so make up doesn’t get in my pores.
We drove home. Nika drove this time while I slept in the passenger seat for some reason I could play an entire basketball game running up and down the court but shopping wore me out like a bitch.
Eventually we got home and I ended up sitting on the counter again Nika standing between my legs.
“Can’t we do this tomorrow?” I groan laying my head on her shoulder. It was 4pm there was really no point of putting on makeup. She smiled and wrapped her arms around me.
“I suppose so… but make up is so fun. Trust me baby.” I nod and think it over for a moment.
“Alright. Pretty me up pretty girl.” I say leaning back and resting on my hands.
“Ok this is primer. It makes it easy for makeup to be applied basically.” She says, as she puts a few drops on my face. She gently rubs it into my face.
“It feels sticky,” I murmur.
“Then concealer. You put this over discoloration eye bags really anything you want to cover up. Here.” She hands it to me and i but small swatch’s under my eyes and a a few other places.
Nika takes one of the brushes we bought and blended in into my skin, blush filler next, then she did my eyes brows an eye lashes.
Fun fact you’re not supposed to close your eyes when you curl your eye lashes. The more you know know I guess.
I hoped off the counter and looked in the mirror. I smiled, I felt pretty. Nikas stood behind me arms wrapped around my waist her head resting on my shoulder.
“You look beautiful my love. Not because of the make up, there’s just this energy radiating off of you.” She says as she kisses my cheek.
“Thank you Nika. For everything.”
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lordoffiction · 4 years ago
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Two Souls, One Fate: chapter one.
☞: After spending two days trying to post this, here it is! Hooray!
I really hope you all enjoy this whilst I finish writing the fifth chapter for T.L, because god knows I spent too much time on this. I haven’t wrote in a few months, so please excuse any mistakes I made in this and if it’s shitty! It’ll get better, promise. 
Please give me feedback and let me know if you would like to get tagged in this series! 
Anyways, enjoy! 
WORD COUNT: 5,069
WARNINGS: swearing, mild violence, mentions of suicide.
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gif isn’t mine, all credits to the owner. 
                              —————————
Your fingers combed through your hair, bundling it up into an untidy ponytail, pulling the long strands to make sure it was secure and tight enough. You had had long hair for around ten years, it's your pride and joy.
Growing up in an all-male family had made you that way, you grew up a tomboy with your five older brothers and always saw yourself as one of them.
But then that magical moment came when you were ripped from your carefree childhood and brutally slammed into the harsh society and expectations of women, you had begun to hate the idea of acting like a boy. People told you to act more like a “lady”. So you had put away the mud pies, the sword fights, and the wrestling. You began doing make-up, having long hair, and wearing pretty clothes.
But throughout everything, no matter what anyone said, society and snotty people couldn’t take this one thing from you.
Archery.
Your father had taught you from a young age, a sport that made you better even on your worst days. Something that not even the most powerful being in existence could take from you. The thrill of letting go of that arrow, watching it glide through the air before striking its target. It was something you would never get bored of.
You dressed in your normal sportswear, sliding on protective gloves made specially to stop your hands from getting sores as you held the arrow.
Where you lived was a small village, everybody knew everybody. News and gossip spread like wildfire here, so you only imagine that half the village had already heard about your date later tonight.
Reaching over to your bow and your arrow hanging pot, slinging it over your shoulder, you left your small apartment and headed towards the forest. You had a set up shooting range for archery at the corner of it, your dad would make targets for you and set you challenges every day when you were younger. Like swinging targets or shooting whilst you're running.
“G’ morning, dear. Going out to the woods again?”  
Your eyes turned to see your elderly neighbour smiling at you, her eyes crinkled at the corners. Her walking stick barely keeping her up properly and her woven hat kept the sunlight out of her eyes.
“Mrs. Genkins,” You smiled at her small frame. Such a fragile woman. “Don’t I spend all my time in those damn woods?”
“Just you be careful, you wouldn’t want to hurt yourself before your date tonight.” Mrs. Genkins waved her walking stick at you slightly in a teasing manner, barely putting it back in time before she loses her balance.
The comment made your eyes roll internally. Of course, people already knew about your date tonight.
“I see news hasn’t lost its way around this place.” Your hand automatically reaching out to her in case she falls, which she brushed away with her wrinkled hands. Though she may be pushing ninety, she sure is one tough little lady when it comes to receiving any help.
“You know people around here, other people's lives are their entertainment. Just make sure this one can handle you, you can’t be single forever, you know?” Mrs. Genkins squinted her eyes at you teasing you from the last man you had dated that went sour once he had realized how unfeminine you are.
“Is he really worth my time is he can’t handle a tough girl like me?” You teased back, giving her a small wink as she cackled at your comment.
“Well, I better be going if I want to miss the morning rush at the morning market. You be safe, dear. And be careful.”
You nodded at her, smiling as you waved her down the road and out of sight. You let your head fall back slightly, closing your eyes with an exasperating sigh. You really need to move somewhere where there isn’t anyone you know or where no-one knows you.
You set off towards the woods, it wasn’t a far walk, only about five minutes from your apartment complex.
You dug your earphones out from your pocket, plugging them into your phone, and playing your latest playlist you had made for when you go do your archery. You began stretching your arms on the way, hooking one arm around the other, and pulling on it to receive a satisfying 'pop'.
Just as you entered the woods, you began to hear faint drumming noises. You brushed it off, perhaps it was something for the song you were listening to, though you never remembered this when you last listened to it yesterday.
Your brows knotted together in confusion as the drumming began to get louder and louder as you went deeper into the forest. The noise became so loud that you ripped your earphones out of your ears, your eyes widening. It wasn’t coming from the music.
It was coming from around you.  
As soon as you realised, a small chanting sound echoed with the drumming, syncing with the beat of it.
A cult? You thought.
Your E/C hues quickly began searching around you to see who was doing it but found no one else in the woods with you.
Your fight or flight reflex suddenly kicked in, making you break out into a full-blown sprint into the woods, you tried to fumble with your bow, reaching for one of your arrows in it’s hanging pot behind your back, panting as your fingertips brushed the tip of it.
“C’mon!” You yelled at yourself in frustration.
Suddenly, you began to fall sideways, your ankle giving way beneath you in a twisted mess. The world began to spiral around you as you rolled into the ditch near the pathway you were once walking on.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
You felt yourself being thrashed around for a few seconds downhill before finally landing on the flat ground again. You gasped for air, the collision causing you to land onto your back, knocking all the air out of your lungs.
You laid there for a minute, breathing in deeply. Did you really just fucking fall?
Rolling onto your side and going onto your hands and knees once you regained your breath, you looked up at the large hill you just fell from, realising the only way you can get back to the track is if you climb back up again.
“Shit.” You grumbled under your breath, using the nearest tree to pull yourself up to your feet again. Your arrows were scattered around you from the fall, leaning down to pick them up one by one and placing them back in your hanging pot.
As you reached for the last one, but your eyes were caught on a small box under the root of a large tree, surely the largest tree you had seen in these woods before and in your entire life.
It must have been thousands of years old, you could wrap yourself around it at least six or seven times.
“Oh, my...” You gawked the tree up and down, taking it all in before looking back to the box that was intertwined with its roots.
“What’s this?” You wondered aloud, going onto your knees and tracing your fingers on the corners of the box that you could touch. It was covered in dirt and moss but your curiosity ate you alive, reaching for one of your arrows, you began to jab at the root to loosen it with the end of your arrow.
After a few moments of trying, you finally loosened the root enough to yank the box out from it with a hard tug, causing you to fall backward.
You brushed it with your fingers but the dirt and grime were so thickly coated on it for god knows how long.
“Curious cat, aren’t you?” You spoke to yourself, standing up again and forgetting completely about your training. “This could be a murder weapon or something and you want to take it home with you.” You tusked, tucking the box into your hanging pot.
The journey back home was filled with many emotions, the main one being self-pity for yourself on how you fell down the hill. The second was about the drums that caused you to fall.
                                 —————————
You ringed your hair out as you stepped out of the shower, letting it fall down your back, the water droplets dripping down your skin, and pooling around your feet.
You dried yourself off as you danced to the music playing from your speaker in your small apartment, grabbing the clothes you planned to wear to your date tonight.
What a weird day, huh. You thought back to the drumming and chanting.
You had chosen a pair of black jeans and a cute black top you had recently bought as a treat, the neckline dripping to show your cleavage. The outfit suited your figure beautifully, staring at yourself in the mirror as you tugged on your black, leather heeled Chelsea boots.
You’d only done concealer and mascara for your make-up. Nothing too fancy for a little date.
“Not bad, Y/N. Not bad at all.” You smiled at yourself. You had curled your long hair, tucking one side behind your ear.
You looked behind you, seeing the small box you discovered sitting on your kitchen counter. You glanced at the clock on the wall, seeing you still had some time to kill before your date got here.
After a few minutes of running around your apartment and gathering things like a toothbrush, washing up liquid, a small paintbrush, and paper towels; you set up your little workspace on the counter to clean the box.
You dipped the toothbrush in the soapy water, gently scrubbing the dirt from the box, using the paintbrush to brush any specks of dirt off it.
Some time had passed, and you could finally see the beauty beneath the dirt.
“What are these?” You mumbled to yourself, looking at the strange engraved marks on the box. The box looked silver, but you couldn’t be sure.
Carefully prying the box open with your fingertips, you revealed inside a stranger kind of necklace.
Your head tilted to the side and your brows furrowed together as the small spiral pendant looked almost familiar. Like you had owned one before but forgot about it. A very distant memory.
It was silver, in the shape of an upside-down hammer. The leather cord that was with it had deteriorated, falling apart as soon as you picked up the pendant.
You cleaned off the pendant in the soapy water, patting it dry with a paper towel. Quickly going back to your room and grabbing one of your necklaces, you took the chain from it. Going back to the kitchen where you carefully hooped the pendant onto the silver chain.
Should I...
You pondered for a moment, staring at the pendant in your hand. You raised the chain around your neck, clasping it together at the hooks as it hung on your chest. You stilled for a moment, almost expecting something to happen when you put it on.
“Idiot,” You laughed at yourself, going over to where a mirror was to see how it looked on. But as soon as you took a step forwards, it felt like you began falling. You could hear the chants again from the woods, the drums pounding around you, almost deafeningly loud. Your eyes widened in terror as you couldn’t move your body as you fell back, the floor of your apartment swallowing you in a rabbit hole.
Lights surrounded you in all different colors, seeing silhouettes in the corner of your eye. Were they the ones chanting?
Oh god, oh fuck, oh shit.
Your breathing became labored, struggling to get air as you tried desperately to move your limbs.
The drumming and chanting only growing louder the deeper you fell into this rabbit hole.
Silence.
Suddenly the chanting and drums stopped, looking up to see the disfigured sky. You attempted to move your limbs again, gasping when you found you could move.
You kicked your way up to the sky, gasping for air once you broke through.
The sound of lapping waves and squalling seagulls invaded your ears, a sudden chill going over your body.
You looked around you with wide eyes, astonished by your surroundings. You were in the fucking ocean.
“What the fuck?!” You shrieked out, panic set over you as you tried to stay afloat, legs kicking under the water furiously.
“You’re dreaming. You must have gotten a concussion,” you repeated to yourself. “Yeah, yeah. You’re concussed.”
“You there!”
You snapped your head to see a wooden boat sailing towards you, numerous men aboard it as they all peered down at you. One man, in particular, stood at the arch of the boat, big and with a long braided bear. He was bald, tattoos around his head in strange patterns.
“Did you get lost, woman?” He belly laughed, the other men joining in. You were too much in shock to try and even say anything back. “Frode, throw the poor woman a rope.”
One of the men, skinner than the one barking orders, threw a thick rope towards you, splashing into the water in front of you, the water spraying on your face.
You grabbed the rope, unsure whether or not being on a boat with strangers or being in the ocean alone was better. The men heaved you up to the boat, letting your body hit the deck of it like a wet fish.
You panted slightly, trying to calm your thundering heart before it jumped out your throat.
You weren’t facing the men, your eyes locked onto your hands that dug into the wooden deck, trying to desperately grasp onto some kind of reality.
“Holy fuck.” You gasped out.
“Someone get her something to cover herself with!” The bald, bearded man ordered. Someone came over and wrapped some kind of cloak on you, you quickly tied it on your neck, trying to get warm.
“What kind of clothing is she wearing?” Another man spoke.
“A whore, perhaps?” Another replied.
“Whore!?” You repeated, turning to look at the men for the first time. “Who do you think you're calling a whore?”
The expressions on the men’s faces changed as soon as you looked up at them. The sudden change in mood made you want to cower away. Are these cosplayers? Re-enactors? Why did they dress that way?
“Freyja.” The bald one spoke, barely a whisper.
“Freyja?” You repeated. Who?
You’d never heard such a name before, were they calling you that? The men exchanged a look, communicating with their eyes before turning back to you.
“What’s your name?” The bald one asks, his tone in voice changing.
“Y/N,” you reply, beginning to stand up. “Where is this? Where are we right now?”
“Kattegat.” Someone spoke, earning a quick shove by the person next to him.
Your brows frowned together. Kattegat? Maybe you should have paid more attention in geography class when you were in school.
“Tie her up. We must show the Princes, this is an imposter of Freyja.” The bald one spoke again before walking away, his face unreadable.
“Wait!” You exclaimed, looking around as the men closed in on you, starting to grab you. “Get your fucking hands off of me!”
You elbowed the man who grabbed your from behind, hearing a grunt from him as he doubled over, making you flick your long hair out of your face.
“If anyone touches me, I’ll rip your fucking limbs off.” You warned, getting into a fighting stance with your balled fists in the air. You were outnumbered, by many. Before you could even say another word, one of the men quickly backhanded you across the face, knocking you down to the floor where they all cornered you.
—————————
The bald man, whose name you had learned was Magnus, threw you onto the ground with force, causing you to land on your shoulder. A groan left your lips as pain tingled down your arm.
“Don’t fucking throw me, you bald bastard!” You shouted at him, your hands restrained behind your back and your ankles tied together also, restraining you of trying to run off. Your hair had fallen across your face, limiting your view of your surroundings.  
The whole hall of people turned to look at you, hearing small whispers about your clothing. The music had stopped playing and the cheers.
Who the fuck were these people?
You could barely make out four men sitting at a large table in front of you, maybe a few feet away, two with fair hair and two with dark.
“What’s the meaning of this, Magnus?” You heard one of them say, his accent making your ears perk up. “Did any of you ask for a thrall for the night?” He directed his question to the men beside him.
“My apologies, Prince Ubbe, but...” The bald man suddenly seemed nervous, unsure of what exactly to say. It made you scoff. A big guy like him was scared of these guys? “We found her in the sea--”
“Spit it out, before I rip your tongue out.” Another man at the table spoke, the threat taking you off guard. His accent was the same.
“We believe she’s an imposter and a volva.”
“An imposter and a volva?” another one of the men at the table snickered. “Sound’s interesting, Ubbe.”
“Who are you calling an imposter?” You sneered at the men. “I don’t even know you.”
“Watch your mouth, whore!” You heard, gasping as one of the men who tied you kicked you in your side.
“Enough.” You heard the first man say, hearing the chair he was sitting in move across the floor. “I asked you what the meaning of this was? You’re spoiling our celebration.”
The bald man grabbed the back of your head, gripping onto your hair as he roughly pulled you onto your knees, making you wince. Your hair moved from your face in the process and you could finally see around you. At the table sat the four men, the Princes, you had gathered.
All handsome— wait. Not the right time.
Their faces were twisted in an expression you had never seen before on someone as soon as they looked at you. The whole of the hall went deathly quiet as eyes were on you.
One of the men at the table stood up abruptly, his hands on the table. He had four twisted braids in his dark hair, his eyes a piercing blue as they stared at you. They were the bluest eyes you had ever seen.
Those eyes. You’d seen them before.
“Freyja.” He said to you. Again with the name.
Your head was tugged back, knocking you out of your trance and filling your chest with rage. Ripping your eye contact from him, you turned your attention to the man behind you.
“Get your hands off me before I break them.” You growled out.
Whispers broke out around you, you scowled at them all. What were they all wearing? Are these Vikings?
Your E/C eyes find their way to the blue ones again, he seemed to tense when you looked at him, his breath catching in his throat. It was like he was a statue.
The one with long brown hair with two braids going into one and green eyes stood up.
“Everybody leave.” Was all he said for everyone to leave the room. “You men can also leave. Get out.”
The men behind you began to leave, Magnus let your hair suddenly go from his grip, letting you land onto your face.
“Fuck.” You whimpered out, a tingling pain going up your nose. The only people left in the large hall were you and the four strange men, you strangely began to feel small.
The blonde man who was at the head of the table began to make his way towards you, his footsteps stopping once in front of you. Was this the one they called Ubbe?
“You,” He kneeled on one knee as he grabbed your jaw with his index finger and thumb. “What is your name?”
You hold your tongue, refusing to tell him. But this only made his grip on your jaw tighten.
“If you want to keep your tongue, I suggest you answer when spoken to.” He said lowly, his eyes just as blue as the man behind him. Were they brothers?
You stare into his eyes, trying to stare him down like a dog but his eyes never faltered. His stare was incredibly intimidating.
You gave an exasperating huff of breath, rolling your eyes to yourself.
“Y/N. My name is Y/N Y/L/N.”
He kept staring at you, his eyes studying your face. His eyes looked sad as if pained as he looked at you. His jaw clenched and unclenched before he spoke again. “Why were you in the sea?”
“I don’t know, one moment I was in my home and the next I was in the water.” You knew this had to do with the necklace and the drumming in the woods. It all has to link up somehow. You went to reach up to grab it but remembered your hands were tied.
His eyes moved from yours as he removed his hand from your jaw, turning to the other men at the table. Your eyes followed. Both the one with blue eyes and the blonde one with fluffy hair were frozen in place still. It’s like they’ve seen a ghost.
The one kneeling in front of you raised his eyebrows at the one with the braids as if asking him what to do. He walked over to the both of you, gawking down at you with his green eyes.
“It’s as if she’d risen from the dead, but how can that be? We saw her body that day.” He said, staring down at you.
“Can someone just explain to me what’s going on?” You pipped up. A loud bang caused you to jump, looking towards the cause of the noise. The blue-eyed man had gotten up, his chair fallen behind him and his hands pressed against the surface of the table. His chest was heaving under his leather armor. His face was twisted with anger and hurt, barely looking at you as he grabbed his crutch.
“I don’t care what you do with her," he looked over to you with eyes so intense, your lips parted as your breath hitched in your throat. You felt your heart dip into your stomach.
Holy shit. Those eyes... Where have you seen them before?
"She's not Freyja." He walked out the hall and passed you, his crutch stabbing into the wood beneath him in anger, he looked as if he was almost snarling as he walked through the doors.
“Ivar--” The one with the green eyes called after him, going to walk after him but the one who was knelt suddenly stood up, holding a hand against his chest.
“Leave him, this must be a shocking sight for him. He needs time.”
“Can you untie me so I can leave?” You cut in, the rope irritating the skin off your wrists. The men ignored you, the blonde fluffy-haired one finally speaking up after this whole time.
“You can’t let her leave.”
—————————
You sat awkwardly in the chair, fiddling with your fingers on your lap as the three men stared at you. The fluffy-haired one had untied you but sat you in the chair at the large table, the green-eyed one threatening that if you tried anything then you’d regret it.
Scary.
They spoke as if you weren’t even there too.
“What kind of clothes is she wearing? She's dressed like a prostitute.” The one with the two braids spoke, cutting an apple slowly with a knife before placing it in his mouth.
Your gaze turned to him, anger rising in your chest. What was with these guys? Do they have no respect?
“Say that again,” You pointed your finger towards him. “and I’ll spoon your eyes out. How can you say anything about what I'm wearing when you’re dressed like a rodent in all those furs?”
The man stared at you for a moment before smirking. Who are you smiling at, you bastard--
“With a mouth like hers, she certainly isn’t Freyja. She wouldn’t dare speak like that.” He said. "Even if she is identical to her."
“That’s because I’m not Freyja. And you do know that this is kidnapping, right? You can get put into jail because of this.”
The brothers exchanged a look.
“And where would you find one of those?” Asked the one with the long braid, Ubbe, you remembered. “We’re the sons of Ragnar, nobody can tell us what we can or cannot do.”
Your eyebrows frowned, looking at them sideways at you felt dumbfounded.
Who is Ragnar?
“As if I know, or care, who Ragnar is. Let me go.” You huffed, folding your arms over your chest. Shit, it was cold here. Even this cloak did nothing to help with your soaking clothes.
Their expressions only looked more confused, as if they were more confused than you are and couldn't understand how you didn't know who Ragnar is.
“Where are you from?” The one eating asked.
“Tell me your names and then I’ll tell you what you want to know.” You cocked an eyebrow at them. If they were stupid enough, they’d tell you so you can report them to the police once you find a way out of here.
God, the air here smells like constant shit. You want to go home already, to your scented candles to cleanse your nose of this stench.
“Curious thing, aren’t you? I’m Hvitserk,” Hvitserk pointed to the other men with the end of his knife. “these are my brothers, Ubbe and Sigurd.”
Ubbe smiled at you as Sigurd only stood still, unsure of what to say to you.
“And the blue-eyed one who walked out?” You asked.
“That was Ivar, our youngest brother.”
“What was his problem?” You quizzed again. Shut up, Y/N. This curiosity is the reason why you’re here in the first place.
Ubbe and Hvitserk looked at you before exchanging a look between them, Sigurd shifting on his feet as he cleared his throat. You noticed his jaw clench and his fists tighten at his sides.
“Well?” You repeated, waiting for an answer from one of them.
“The woman you resemble—” Ubbe began, getting cut off by a nudge from Hvitserk.
“Is it wise to tell her?” He asked his brother lowly, his green eyes looking at you.
“You do not think she deserves to know?”
“She could be deceiving us, a volva like the men said,” Hvitserk warned his brother.
You could only roll your eyes at them as you shifted in the chair, crossing your legs over.
“I don’t know what that is, but I can assure you I'm not deceiving you. I just want to know what’s going on.” You sighed, tucking your hair behind your ears.
“You resemble a woman called ‘Freyja’,” Sigurd spoke suddenly, looking into the bright flame that burned in the hall. His brothers turned to look at him with you. “No, you don’t resemble her. You are her.”
“Who is Freyja?” You asked.
“She was my first love.” He turned to look at you. “And Ivar's.”
Hvitserk and Ubbe sat back in the chairs, staying deadly quiet as their brother spoke to you. Their first love?
“What happened to her?” The question made your heart sink, taking you off guard. Why do you care?
“She died protecting us all. She was the most beautiful and loved woman in Kattegat, every man wanted her hand in marriage. Including all of us,” Sigurd suggested to his brothers, making Ubbe take a sip out of his cup and Hvitserk turn his gaze.
“A king came one day, wanting to trade. But once his eyes set on Freyja, demanding to marry her or risk causing a war between us. We all agreed to go to war, prepared, made an army. She refused to cause a war over her, Freyja had always hated violence.”
Sigurd took a shaky breath, his hands trembling in the light of the fire. The sight was enough to let you know how much he was affected by this.
“She... she was in love with Ivar. The thought of either losing him in battle or by marrying herself off was too much for her to ever bare. The day of the battle, Freyja stood between armies, in the middle of the battle field,” His eyes looked at yours, something flashing over them. “She drove a sword through herself in front of everyone. She did it for her love.”
The words made your breath hitch in your throat.
She killed herself... for him?
Your eyes tore away from Sigurd’s figure, looking anywhere but at the brothers.
No wonder Ivar left, you thought. Imagine seeing the woman you loved kill herself in front of you and then seeing her alive again...
“I’m sorry.” You said quietly, staring at your lap. “But I just want to go home. I have a family there, friends. They’re probably searching for me.”
“It’s dark out now,” Ubbe spoke, clearing his throat as he stood. “You should rest here for the night and begin searching for your way back in the morning. We'll help you.”
You nodded a 'thank you', standing from your chair. Hvitserk looked at your soaking clothes, turning to Sigurd.
"Tell one of the thralls to prepare some clothes for Y/N. She can't sleep in those."
Sigurd nodded, walking down a passageway and out of sight. You could see a grateful look on his face towards his brother for getting him out the room.
"You still haven't told me where you're from." Hvitserk turned his attention to you, leaning back against the table.
"Honestly, I don't think any of you will know where I'm from. But I can tell you I'm not from here. I come from a different time." You uttered, holding the necklace under your cloak, your thumb grazing the lines in it. "Someone or something brought me here, I want to know why."
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noonachronicles · 5 years ago
Text
The End of the F**king World Pt. 2
Byun Baekhyun X Reader
Word Count: 12k
Warnings: Language. Character death. Smut(ish) - Masturbation/descriptive sexual fantasy. 
Genre: Apocalyptic/Alien Invasion AU. Slow Burn (ish?). One pining pup and one idiot in denial to eventual lovers.
A/N: This is a lot. I went through this about a hundred times but guaranteed I missed something that needs to be edited anyway. So sorry about that but enjoy regardless!
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During the first few days after Chanyeol and Baekhyun found Cordially the five of you spent your daylight hours securing the premises before taking up residency. In what you found to be a startling turn of character for you, you were one of the more fearless members of the family and were quick to take on Lurkers. With Irene still shook up and Seulgi having to take care of her, it ended up being you and the boys that killed any unwanted residents and cleared out the building. After that it was you and Baekhyun who took on the roles of scavengers. You searched nearby buildings for supplies that you needed for survival like food, water, and weapons. You also looked for items on a list that Chanyeol had curated for a special project he wanted to work on.
Seulgi and Irene stayed in the building at first. They really cleanied things up. They found and barricaded all of the exits except for the front door and also created a list of needs. It was all things they needed in order to really turn Cordially into a home. They hung curtains so that everyone had a private area to themselves, made beds out of cushions. Irene even set up the bathroom so that it felt nicer, and attached a showerhead to the sink faucet so getting clean didn’t have to mean having to shove your soapy head under the faucet.  
With both lists constantly growing you realized pretty quickly you’d have to expand your search area. Even if the idea was a little scary considering that you had no idea what was out there. Back then there were still plenty of unsavory people hanging around the city on top of the even less savory creatures. There had been a few groups of people, truly lawless men, that you’d run into who seemed to feel entitled to more of you than you wanted to give them. It was situations like that where Baekhyun really stepped up and you felt lucky to have his protection. There were a couple of times that things could have been much worse than they were if it weren’t for him. It was also because of those situations that he was always on high alert and overly cautious when it came to strangers. Especially strangers that showed any extra interest in you.
He almost took off Taemin’s head when the two of you found each other. It had been nearly three weeks since that last morning together. He had sped towards you out of nowhere, not much more than a blur, before crashing into you. The hug you’d gotten from him wasn’t one you’d ever forget. As you tried to assure a panicked Baekhyun that you were fine and that you knew him, Taemin cried into your shoulder. He kept saying how he thought he lost you and how grateful he was that you were alive. It reached right to your chest and squeezed your heart. Of course you were friends but you hadn’t realized that you were so important to him, he’d never told you before. That afternoon Taemin officially introduced you to Jongin and also to Hyunwoo who they’d met by chance.
The more you got out of your comfort zone the better things ended up getting. It was only then that you met Sehun, Baekho, and Seungcheol. Sehun had been a weapons specialist with the army. He’d come to the city with his squad on the first day of the invasion but things went south fast. Within the first week he’d watched each and everyone of his fellow soldiers get torn to shreds. If it wasn’t for him it would have taken you much longer to figure out the Lurkers weak spots. Before he told you where they were you, Baekhyun, and Chanyeol had just been beating them relentlessly and hoping for the best.
On the day you’d met, Sehun had found you using a baseball bat as a weapon. He’d said it was fine but only useful in close proximity. Seeing as close proximity combat was not ideal, he spent a few hours everyday teaching you how to throw knives until he’d decided you had sufficient accuracy. He taught Baekhyun proper sword techniques and how to throw axes. Every new survivor that he met got a lesson from Sehun in weapons and self defense.  
Baekho had been a personal fitness instructor and wellness coach which proved to be invaluable to the Community. Once all of the Family’s began working together he was in charge of managing the food supply that others scavenged and planning meals that would not only make the food last the longest amount but that would keep everyone from becoming too malnourished. And Seungcheol had been a medical school student before the invasion. He did what he could, while still learning himself, to teach at least one member of each family first aid and some basic medical skills so that no one was ever too far away from help. For your family it was Seulgi that ended up taking quickly to that role.
As time passed everyone learned how to do something. Everyone in the community had a role to play, a valuable skill set. All the members of the Community knew that working together would be the only way to survive. Anyone who didn’t want to contribute was welcome to leave the city, try their luck and make it on their own somewhere else. It seemed harsh at first, pushing people out, but everyone’s lives were already balanced on such a slippery slope that you couldn’t afford the disruption of a member that only thought of themselves. There had been a few in the beginning whose selfishness had gotten good people killed. Making rules and banishment necessary.  
Ultimately working together so closely meant that everyone became close. Partially because after three years there were so few of you. Partially because you all shared a major common interest in survival, the great equalizer. Every time someone died or disappeared it only strengthened that bond and your need to protect one another grew stronger. There wasn’t a single person in the Community that you didn’t care for or enjoy being around but your family always came first. And that was a fact that seemed true for everyone.
A week had already passed since your birthday and you were mostly grateful to have things fall back to normal fairly quickly. In just a few days there was the trip to the Farm and everyone seemed to be getting ready for that. It wasn’t a huge deal, not anymore at least, but it did take some preparations. Once again Chanyeol chose Baekhyun and Irene to be the two people from your family to go.
The last time you’d taken the trip out to the Farm there’d been an accident. It was a simple misstep. Anyone could have made the mistake but not just anyone had. You did, and it left you stranded alone just outside of the city in the middle of the night with a sprained wrist and possible concussion. You made it back home by the next morning, you never once thought you wouldn’t. Humble enough to never say it to anyone's face, you knew if anyone could come back from that, it was going to be you. Regardless, after that trip Chanyeol never asked you to go again.
It seemed silly and you weren’t sure how or why it happened, but after the invasion Chanyeol had become an important figure in your life. You respected him more than anyone, which meant that his approval had become your goal in almost everything you did. When he was proud of you, you were proud of yourself, and he almost always was. So when he didn’t choose you to go on trips or missions it made you feel like he didn’t think you were capable and it crushed your ego every time.
That morning, after finding out once again that you wouldn’t be going, you were pretty frustrated. You didn’t even bother saying goodbye to anyone before heading outside. You’d left so quickly you even had to stop just across the street to sit on the curb to tie your boots the rest of the way before going out on your scavenge. It shouldn’t have upset you so much, it was such a petty, insignificant thing to be bothered by but the more you thought about it the more it riled you up. Almost finished lacing up, you didn’t say anything when you saw Baekhyun walk out of Cordially, you weren’t really in the mood for chatting. You thought maybe he hadn’t seen you because he started to walk down the sidewalk in the opposite direction but before he got too far he stopped and turned around, hurrying over to where you were sitting.
“Hey,” he said quickly, “I wasn’t going to say anything…”
“So don’t.”
He grinned down at you, “You seemed really upset about the Farm, just checking to see if you’re good.”
“I’m fine.” You sighed and pushed yourself up to your feet.
“I was just thinking, if you want, we could go out together. We haven’t done that in awhile.”
“Honestly. I’d just rather be alone right now.”
“Look, I get that. It’s just�� when people go out and they’re upset mistakes happen.” He shrugged, “You’re looking pretty tense. I want to make sure you’re okay.”
You scoffed, “I said I was fine but clearly you think I’m incapable of taking care of myself too. Nice.”
“You’re the best we have in the whole community. You’re fearless. No one thinks you can’t take care of yourself.”
“Really? Is that why Chanyeol refuses to trust me with the simplest of tasks?” You asked, feeling the heat rise up your neck. “I fucked up once. Now he doesn’t even trust me enough to sit in the back of a truck for a couple of hours without killing myself.”
Baekhyun shook his head. “That’s not why he doesn’t let you go on Farm runs.”
“What other possible reason could there be?”
“You weren’t here that night.” He sighed, “Seulgi was inconsolable when you didn’t show up before lockdown. She sat by the door for hours just crying and praying you’d show up. She had Yeol on the walkies with the other leaders all night trying to figure out what happened to you. It was a disaster. When you came back she made him swear he’d never put you in a situation like that again.”
“She what?” You were a little uncertain how to feel.
Part of you was furious that she would do that, treat you like a child. The rest was crushed that your friend had been so worried and never told you. When you arrived home the next day she had barely even reacted. She had only helped you get your wrist bandaged up and told you to rest because she was concerned about your head. At most you remembered her telling you she was happy you were okay but beyond that she said nothing.
“They don’t know I know she asked him for that.” He admitted, “But bedrooms with walls made out of sheets aren’t great for a lot of privacy.”
“Whatever.” You shrugged, grabbing your walkman out of your backpack before throwing the strap over your shoulder. “I’m fine, Baek. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“I’m not trying to be, I swear. I honestly just want to make sure you’re okay out there.”
“Listen,” you said as kindly as you could. “I can take care of myself. I do it all the time. Trust me.”
“Okay.” He nodded, “If you need me, you know how to find me.”
“Thanks.”
You put your headphones in and pressed play on before heading off down the empty street. Baekhyun wasn’t wrong. You were tense and annoyed which kept you off guard. He was only trying to be nice, but you also knew what you could do to relax and it didn’t require him. In fact spending the day with him probably would have only made it worse. You headed down the street to where you knew you could be alone.
Baekhyun might have agreed to trust you, but that didn’t keep him from worrying. People got themselves hurt going out on scavenge on good days. Going out when your head wasn’t totally in the game was a bad idea. He wasn’t going to willingly let you go off and get yourself killed. He’d rather you catch him following you and be pissed off at him than have you hurt. So that’s exactly what he did.
Around the corner and down a couple blocks, around another corner and down another block. He had no idea where you were headed. He wasn’t even sure what quadrant you were in anymore. As he followed you he wondered how you’d ever know what was going on around you with your headphones in all the time. It was now surprising to him that you ever made it home alive with how easy it was to follow you. God forbid you were ever in a building, deaf to the sounds of the Lurkers.
Finally after about twenty minutes of twists and turns you ducked inside a building that used to be a high rise bank building. It had been about sixty floors tall, but now it sat around twelve. A crashing plane wing had sliced through one side of the building. The top of the building had toppled over crushing several other buildings in its wake. He thought it was a little weird that you’d scavenge over here, as most the buildings were completely destroyed and didn’t offer much as far as supplies. Still he followed you inside.
Once in the building he caught sight of you disappearing through a stairwell. As he inched his way up the stairs quietly he was still confused about what you were doing in this abandoned building. You were meant to be scavenging but as he passed several floors he only confirmed to himself you’d have no use for a place like this. Unless maybe you were hoarding supply’s somewhere you thought no one would ever look. He nearly laughed out loud at the idea that you were capable of that kind of betrayal.
Just before the last few steps he hesitated. What if you were here to meet someone privately? He felt heartbroken already, it would devastate him to see you meeting with someone else. Especially considering he knew everyone you knew and they all knew how he felt about you. He scolded himself at the thought. He didn’t own you, you weren’t his. Just because he was in love with you didn’t mean you had to be in love with him. He guessed, if whoever you were with made you happy, he could be okay with it. Even if it hurt.
Being the bigger man about it or not, he still had to know or it would drive him crazy. He was just going to see who it was, that’s it, and then he’d leave. He took the last steps and looked around. This floor had been completely destroyed. It acted as more of a roof with just a few beams still standing and a handful of walls that hadn’t completely crumbled to dust. Even still he didn’t see you right away and he didn’t understand how he could have possibly lost you. There was nothing up there. He’d searched for a bit and about given up. Thinking about heading back downstairs was when he finally thought he heard you. Boots crunching over gravel, glass, and other debris. Moving quickly he rounded one of the walls and paused.
When he found you, you were climbing on top of a large cement platform that overlooked the city. You dropped your bag, put your tape player on top of it and pulled your jacket off. Your legs swung side to side as you looked out over the other buildings. After a few minutes he realized you probably weren’t there to meet anyone. He was just about to call out to you, say something so you would know he was there. Before he could think of something witty or clever to say you did something that froze him in his place.
Closing your eyes, you lifted your hand up your stomach and underneath your bra to massage your breast. It had taken you a few minutes to decide what you were going to fantasize about but when you came up with it you were pretty certain it would work. Arching your back slightly you pressed further into your palm and pictured your perfect fantasy scenario.
Shirtless Hyunwoo, a little sweaty, in all of his golden glory, like maybe you’d already fucked once or twice already. Rough hand feeding you pieces of chocolate. Gently sucking the melted chocolate from his fingertips. Soft warm skin covering his hard muscular body. Softer kisses from his smiling lips. The crinkled smile that made it look like there’s no possible way he could see anything. Moving your hand back down your stomach you quickly unbuttoned your jeans.
Back in your fantasy the chocolate was gone, it was just the two of you together in a soft clean bed. You were pretty certain the mattress you’d imagined would be enough to get you off, it had been so long since you’d slept in a nice bed. Hyunwoo’s hand was rubbing your inner thigh. Your hand, in real time, was already in your panties. Fantasy Hyunwoo was being stubborn. He would not move his hand beyond your thigh, despite your best imaginative efforts, you couldn’t get him where you needed him the most. It was just a glitchy loop of his hand massaging your thigh and kisses on your neck. This wasn’t working, Hyungwoo apparently wasn’t meant to be the man of your dreams today. Opening your eyes you tore your hand from your pants.
“Damn it!” you cried out of frustration. You hopped off the platform into some rubble and picked up a chunk of cement debri, throwing it hard against one of the few still standing walls.
On top of already being upset about this morning it had been months since the last time you were able to get yourself off. It was agonizing. You were so tense you could feel it constantly in your neck and back, it was driving you crazy. After a deep sigh of defeat you moved your hands to button up your jeans once again and then paused. Before grabbing your bag and giving up completely you thought there might be someone else that might work. The same person who had worked for you the last time. With a semi reluctant groan you leaned back against the platform.
When you closed your eyes you were back at the Cordially in the second floor women’s room. It was candlelit and there were flowers everywhere like they had been last week for your birthday. Your back pressed against the cold wall, a mosaic of diamond shaped mirrored tiles. Hand between your thighs, fingers tightly gripping a handful of thick hair. Slick, wet tongue brushing against your sex.
Still gripping his hair roughly, fantasy you pulled Baekhyun up until he was standing in front of you. Both of you were completely naked and wet. In his hand was the showerhead. His other hand was pushing his wet hair back off of his face, his tongue brushed over his swollen lips. Both you in real life and you in the fantasy gulped. This was going to work just fine.
His skin was slippery and warm as you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. Your lips were mashed together in a kiss. He pulled away and you let out a noise like a complaint. As he kissed along your jaw he brought the showerhead between your thighs.
Lips against your earlobe you could hear his voice perfectly in your head, “Tell me how much you want me.”
Real you let out a whimper at the thought and your thighs were trembling around your wrist already. You had to sink down to your knees amongst the debri or risk collapsing with jello legs. Fantasy you and real you gasped out to fantasy Baekhyun, to the empty roof, to the whole city. “God. I want you so bad. Please, I need you.”
You leaned your head back and fantasy Baekhyun latched his mouth to your throat. A heady moan escaped your lips as he kept the showerhead pulsing against you.
“You taste so good, baby.” he muttered after removing his mouth from your neck with a pop. “I wanna know how you feel.”
Real life you knew that all you had to do was keep hard and fast against your wildly sensitive clit and this could all be over in a minute, but instead you needed it to last longer. You wanted more. Leaning back and spreading your knees you slipped two fingers knuckle deep
You let out a barely audible, “Baekhyun.”
In your fantasy one of his hands gripped your hip and the other one lifted your leg up to his waist. Your wet bodies slipped together so easy and soon he was pumping into you relentlessly. Just you and him in the soft glow of the candles. Water from his soaked hair dripping down his face as he absolutely devoured you with starving eyes. He was so beautiful.
“Y/n...you feel amazing.” He gasped against your mouth before dipping his tongue between your lips, the pink muscle swirling around yours.
“Oh, god!” You moaned louder than you expected to, “I’m gonna come.”
In real life you flew forward on your knees and held yourself up by one hand. The palm of your one hand was pressed hard into sharp pieces of cement debri as you fucked yourself with the other.
“Oh fuck! That’s it! God! Yes! Yes...” You cried out as your orgasm hit hard.
Face flush you collapsed down onto your elbows to catch your breath. After a couple minutes you sat up and sucked your fingers clean, wanting to rid yourself of the sticky residue your orgasm left. Getting back on your feet you pulled your pants back up to your hips. With a satisfied sigh you grabbed your backpack and jacket from where they were laying on the platform. You pulled out your water bottle and rinsed your hands. After a handful of deep breaths and a quick drink of water from your bottle you pulled the straps of your bag over your shoulders. There was a renewed pep in your step as you made your way across the rooftop and back down the stairs.
Baekhyun stood with his back flat against the one wall left standing near the stairs. With an obvious erection bulging in his pants he held his breath as you passed. After he watched you skip down the stairs with a light whistle he finally let himself breathe. He hadn’t meant to stay, he really didn’t. He knew it was wrong and about ninety-nine percent of him felt horribly guilty and disgusting for staying, but he’d never felt so completely paralyzed in his life. All he could do was stand there with his eyes wide open and his mouth catching flies.
When he realized what you were doing his brain screamed RUN! but his feet were planted firmly to the ground. He just stood there and stared, mesmerized by the way you brought yourself to orgasm. It was a vision he’d fantasized about countless times, but truthfully never actually expected to see for himself. He only wished he could have heard what you’d been saying but he hadn’t dared to move any closer than he already was. It wasn’t until you’d sucked your fingers clean that he’d been able to throw himself behind the wall, praying you hadn’t seen him. So weighed down he didn’t think he’d ever be able to move from that spot. It was as if in that moment you’d transferred every ounce of your stress and tension directly onto his shoulders.
-  
Before the invasion Taemin had worked at a second hand, designer clothes boutique downtown. The shop was down a street that locals lovingly referred to as Vintage Alley. It had been called that because every store on that street, for several blocks, offered only used goods and goods from a different time.
Used Only was a used bookstore that didn’t offer a single book that hadn’t been well loved already. Coco’s Closet, where Taemin worked, offered high quality pre-owned designer clothes and accessories. There wasn’t a coffee house or a frozen yogurt shop to be seen. There was, however, Greasers which was a diner that offered the best burger and fries combo you’d ever had. And there was a soda shop across the street where you could get ice cream after if you hadn’t already eaten a slice of pie. There was even Biff’s Bowling Alley and a movie theater that only played movies from decades ago.
It had been perfect for a completely themed date night. A quirky little part of the city that locals loved just as much as tourists. Your favorite shop on the whole street was Around Again. It was a record shop that had been around since the 1930’s. It still had booths in the back where customers could listen to the records before they bought them. The whole store was lined from wall to wall with old vinyls. There weren’t CDs and they didn’t sell iPods. Except for an old cardboard box you’d found in the back that had a bunch of cassette tapes and a single, silver Walkman, it was strictly vinyl.
Later in your day, after you’d checked a couple buildings for supplies, you rounded a corner about a block away from the record store. Tears for Fears had been playing through your headphones and you felt on top of the world. That corner you rounded brought you from Quad Nine, which was where your family resided, to Quad Eight. As soon as you turned the corner you were less than surprised to see Taemin, Jongin, and Hyunwoo since Eight was theirs. There was also a hodge podge collection of other Community members from Six and Seven hanging around, there typically was.
Taemin perked up when he saw you arrive, he’d been lounging on the top of an Army tank that had been left in the middle of the road. “Trespasser! You must pay the toll!”
You shook your head as you made your way to the tank, pulling your backpack around to the front to drop your tape player in and grab your payment. Reaching the tank Taemin dropped his hand down to you and you offered him a sucker.
“Ah yes,” he smiled, accepting the sweet, “Thank you, my beautiful candy dealer.”  
Jongin popped his head over the side of the tank as well with big, bright and hopeful brown eyes, “Do you have any of those Jolly Ranchers left?”
“I think so.” you hummed as you dug through the pocket of your pack. “Just a few, is that okay?”
You reached your hand up, offering  him the candy and his smile burned brighter “Perfect. Thank you, y/n.”
“How about you?” You asked, looking over at Hyunwoo who was sitting under the shade of a tree. “Craving anything sweet today?”
“The only sweet thing he’s craving is you.” Taemin laughed.
Hyunwoo shook his head trying to ignore the comment, “No thank you, y/n. Maybe next time.”
“Hey, speaking of next time. What are you going to do when the scavengers get pushed to look outside of the city?” Jongin asked as he popped a candy into his mouth. “You’ll never have time to visit the record store anymore.”
“Yeah, what are you gonna do? How am I supposed to survive not seeing you nearly every day?” Taemin whined.
You hadn’t actually thought about it,  “I don’t know. It’s going to suck, but you know me, I’ll find a way.”
Jongin shrugged, “You could always join our family.”
“Oh my god!” Taemin nearly shrieked with excitement. “Yes! Join our family! You can be the mom!”
“Tae, you’re a grown ass man.” You scowled.
“Tae’s a baby.” Jongin laughed. Taemin only nodded cutely, looking especially childlike with the sucker hanging out of his mouth.
“You could, you know?” Hyunwoo said thoughtfully. “You could always come stay with us. We have plenty of space at the church. I promise you don’t have to be anyone’s mom.”
“And we’re not gross like most boys.” Taemin added as extra incentive.
Your face flushed, “Oh. I mean… I love you guys. I’d love to stay there with you. If I did that though one of you would have to fist fight Seulgi for me, and I don’t think any of you are prepared for that.”
Hyunwoo just smiled, “Someday.”
“Yeah, maybe.” You sighed nervously, “Well, if I don’t pass you guys on my way back, I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Same place, same time.” Jongin grinned. “Try and find more Jolly Ranchers. “
“Bye mom!” Taemin called out to you as you continued your way down the street.
It wasn’t until almost six months after the invasion that you remembered the record shop existed. You’d snuck into the eighth quadrant during a scavenge to see if it was still standing and that’s when you’d found your beloved tape player. When Hyungwoo found out that you’d been moping around the record store trying to figure out how you were going to listen to music without electricity he set up a gas run generator he’d found and told you to use it until it ran out of juice. After that you could play records whenever you wanted. He’d claimed he thought it was a really good idea to have it available for the Community, that the music would be a good mood booster for anyone that needed it. While a lot of people would come around every once in a while to spend a little time in one of the booths, for the most part the record store was yours.
A faded maroon awning hung out over the windows in front of the building which had been blown out, probably during that first blast. The door had stayed intact. You found that even though the awning was shredded to bits in some parts it kept the shade well enough, but the sun would blast through the glass of the door and into the booths so you’d plastered newspaper scraps over it. There were never any Lurkers in the shadows at the back of the shop and you weren’t sure if it was because they just never went inside the building or if Hyunwoo or one of the others cleared them out everyday before you arrived. Either way you weren’t exactly going to complain.  
Stepping through the open window frame you already knew what you were looking for. You’d seen it the last time you were there and had been thinking about it ever since. It was an old album by The Supremes that usually put you in a pretty good mood, and since you were feeling chipper as it was you thought it would be a good pick. You were quick to grab the record before moving into your favorite booth right in front. Tossing your bag on the table you put the record on the player and took a seat in the cushy leather chair. As the record began to play, you opened your bag to pull out your collection of nail care products. Sometimes you’d look into your bag and laugh. Candy, nail polish, cassette tapes, a flashlight, a liter bottle of water, a couple of homemade granola bars, and a second set of knives. Only the most important essentials, of course.
As the record played you bent over the table and painted your nails. When the needle reached the end of the first record you flipped through the pile in the booth to see what the others had been listening to and tried out a couple of their most recent picks. Then suddenly you only had about an hour or so left before you’d have to swing by the old corner shop to pick up some food, you were pretty sure you’d seen some canned raviolis the last time you were there, before heading back home.
You put on the last record of the day, a collection of love songs from the fifties. As the needle hit the vinyl and started the pleasant piano tune for Tonight You Belong to Me you stood up for a stretch. You hummed along with the almost sickly sweet sound of Patience & Prudence while you shuffled through the tape box to pick which new ones you’d take with you for the week. You pulled several from their pocket in your backpack and replaced them with a couple of others.
From where you were standing you had a clear view out of the sound booths thick glass window. You could see all the way through the front of the store to the street. That’s how, as you were eyeing the contents of the tape box you noticed in your peripheral the movement outside. When you first looked up you saw Taemin sprint passed the window and a few seconds later Jongin did the same. They were followed quickly by Hongjoon and Jihyo who you had seen hanging out earlier.
Turning down the record player you could hear muffled yelling. You quickly made your way out of the booth to the front of the store. Looking out you could see the others in a serious sprint down the street, nearly an entire block away already. Something didn’t sit right with you in a way that it hadn’t the day of the invasion. On first instinct you looked up to the sky but it was clear.
Hesitantly you stepped through the window and out onto the sidewalk. The air was quiet and calm now but goosebumps rose on your arms and legs from the erriness of the silence. You stood for a moment trying to understand what you were feeling. Then you realized it was panic.
You knew it was stupid to go towards an area people were running from, it wasn’t like you’d never seen a movie in your entire life, but your feet took control. It was like your body was being drawn around the corner. You had to know what it was they were running from. Plus you hadn’t seen Hyunwoo or the rest of the group. Down the main street you could see the commotion in the center of the road. Two men were scrapping. One of them was definitely Hyunwoo. From as far as you were you couldn’t tell who the second was.
You moved forward cautiously, ducking behind stripped car frames and trash cans as you made your way down the road. Halfway down the block you noticed a movement across the street. Taeyong was in an alleyway across from you, arms waving frantically to get your attention. He was trying to mouth something to you but you couldn’t understand him. You watched confused until Yeri ran up the alleyway behind him. She looked like she was sobbing. She grabbed at his sleeve until he finally had to give up and left with her.
More confused and curious than ever you continued pushing forward until you’d almost reached the intersection. The fighting had somewhat settled even if the tension in the air was thick. Hyunwoo was on his hands and knees as the other man stood above him. You were about to stand up, to go to him and stop whatever this was when he lifted his face, and caught sight of you. You didn’t know why but something about the look in his eyes stopped you in your place. Blood was smeared over his forehead, and dripping from his lips. He looked terrified which was an emotion you’d thought he was incapable of. If he was scared you knew that couldn’t mean anything good for you. He looked like you were the absolute last person he wanted to see at this moment.
The man he was with noticed Hyunwoos attention elsewhere and turned his head to look over his shoulder in your direction. You were ducked pretty low behind an abandoned car, sure that Hyunwoo only saw you because he was down at your level. The man couldn’t see you but you saw him, and it took everything you had not to scream.
Chanyeol was a tech genius. You always knew he was a pretty smart guy, but you didn’t realize until after the invasion that he was an actual, bonafide genius. How could you have known, he worked an entry level position at a big box tech company. It would be like if Karl Lagerfield had worked retail at an H&M. He’d even been recruited by the government when he was in high school but shrugged off the opportunity after his first week of training because it “didn’t really feel like his thing” and he missed gaming after school with Baekhyun.
After Cordially had been deemed a suitable home Chanyeol gave you a list of things he needed to get to work on what he called his ‘communications project’. He set up solar powered electricity first. A few scavenged panels on the roof that juiced up a few car batteries which he hooked up to a generator. At first he tried to power the whole building but it became clear that it was unsafe to have the lights and buzzing noises running so heavily during the evening hours. Then after the first long dark winter he also realized you’d have to be more sparing with it just in case. Those two reasons were why the basement was the only place that had power. Within the first year he had every family set up with solar power.
Once he had electricity to work with he made quick work of connecting to the internet. It was low grade. Sloth slow and low quality but he’d connected with other tech nerds from around the globe who’d done the same and they were able to share what they knew. People shared security camera quality videos of where they were and exchanged tips and tricks on surviving. Mostly tips to use against Lurkers, which were also called Esqueleto, Akuma, and Étranger among other things. People also shared survival techniques in general. The benefit of the network he'd created was incalculable to the Community.
Originally, after the invasion, everyone thought the Lurkers were the ‘invaders’. You’d all thought it was just them. They were the creatures that came from somewhere unknown, brought their ships, and decided to attack. Through the network and the gathered information you realized it was not the case at all.
A hacker from Spain sent the first video. It looked like cellphone footage of what seemed to be an ordinary man. The video followed the man around for nearly twenty minutes. It was clear the person taking the video was taking extra precautions to keep hidden from view. Then the man had gotten to a clearing that seemed deserted. You’d never forget the video, the way his hand began to glow. An orb of light materializing out of nowhere. The man threw the orb like a bowling ball into a truck that had been tipped over. As the mass of metal exploded you watched as a group of people scattered out from behind it. Then you watched as he attacked them with what could only be described as bolts of lightning.
After that more and more videos of men with the same power started arriving from all over the world. They all shared an ability to harness light into a weapon. Worst of all, as other videos showed, they all had a perplexing control over the Lurkers. You’d watched as they directed entire hoards of them with a wave of their hands. They could keep them from moving at all or command them to attack. The Lurkers weren’t the invaders, they were simply minions. It was still unclear what the men wanted or why they’d come. Of the cities they’d been observed in, very few survivors were ever left over but they were never cleared out completely.
Chanyeol started charting out where the videos were coming from and when. He had been hoping to find a pattern, something that would tell him when they might be headed to your city. What he realized was in some ways even more disturbing. There weren’t multiple alien leaders. There was only one and he was moving from one city to the next. What made it so unsettling was that he never looked the same in any of the videos or photographs. It always looked like a different man, a few times it had even been a woman.
Once Chanyeol came to his conclusion he confirmed it by going back through old footage. To prove his theory he tracked several videos and found all of the people that this thing had become in the backgrounds of the videos from previous cities. It wasn’t clear if this leader figure was some sort of shapeshifter or a body snatcher. It was clear that before he left a city he would take the form of one of that city's residents. The only indicator all of the forms shared, other than it’s occupants powers, was a sheer veil that he wore across the bottom half of his face.
Nobody who had seen him up close was sure why he wore the veil, saying that there didn’t seem to be anything that needed hiding beneath it. They only knew that he was a ruthless killer that enjoyed playing with his prey and some sort of energy vampire that sucked the light from everything around him. At first Chanyeol called him the Final Boss, but everyone agreed that sounded too gloomy and gave him more power than he already had. Instead, in hopes of giving light to the situation, you all decided to call him Big Baddie.
Frozen to the spot you looked up at the veiled man before you. He didn’t look like he had in the last transmission but that didn’t surprise you. What surprised you most was that, just standing there in his presence, you could feel an almost charming energy. He didn’t seem angry. There wasn’t rage or disgust. He was simply amused. You could see the smile in his dark eyes before he turned back to Hyunwoo.
“Looks like all your friends are gone.”
“Good.” Hyunwoo gasped, looking Baddie directly in his eyes. The fear you’d seen before was gone.
“You think I won’t find them?” Baddie asked with a huff of amusement. “You think sacrificing yourself, dueling me as a distraction so they could escape, you think that really did something. You think you saved them, don’t you?”
“I didn’t need to save anyone. They’re going to save themselves.”
“Is that so?” He laughed genuinely. “Are you so deluded that you think they’re coming back in time to save you then?”
Hyunwoo shook his head. “No. I’ll die, but now you no longer have the element of surprise and they’ll win.”
“The best part is that you truly believe that.”
Your mouth fell open as you watched Baddie’s palm start to glow white, the orb of bright white light begin to manifest. Seeing it in person was actually stunning. It seemed so magical and you even thought it looked beautiful.
“Any last words?”
“Just one.” Hyunwoo got to his feet. His shoulders were back and his head was held high. Even though he wasn’t looking at you, you knew it was for you when he said, “Run.”
Baddie chuckled, maybe assuming it was a threat to him and not a command to you. Then Baddie pulled his arm back and even though you had no idea what you had intended on doing you stood up as he slammed his palm forward into Hyunwoo. If you hadn’t known what had happened and what the sight meant you might have thought there was an explosion of star dust. However, you did know and it no longer held the beauty it had seconds before.
You were screaming but you didn’t even realize it until Baddie dropped his hand to his side and turned his head to look over his shoulder. It silenced you. His eyes were dark black and when he locked his gaze with yours you felt even more paralyzed than before. You could just barely see his mouth beneath the sheer veil that covered his face but you knew he was sneering as he eyed you. Something about the look in his eye made you feel sick.
“And what’s your name?” he called out to you.
You didn’t answer. You weren’t even sure what your chances of survival were but without a second thought you turned and ran as fast as you could. You didn’t dare look back as you booked it back down the block and around the corner. Almost out of breath and unsure of where to go you jumped back through the window of the record shop. You skidded to a stop before dropping to your knees in the shattered glass and dust that covered the floor. As fast as you could you crawled to the narrow bit of solid wall between the broken window and the newspaper plastered door.
You pushed your back against the wall and tried to steady your breathing. Tears were streaming down your face as you tucked your knees into your chest. It was hard to tell how quiet you were actually being with your brain going haywire, and heart pounding in your chest. You weren’t sure how long you sat there, it didn’t seem like long. Only so long that you were able to calm yourself enough to realize your hands were bleeding from bits of broken glass. You couldn’t even feel the pain through the terror that shook you.
For just a brief second you allowed yourself to think that maybe he hadn’t followed you. That he’d made a wrong turn or just decided to go somewhere else. However, once you’d had the thought, the sound of whistling echoed softly down the empty street outside. With every second that passed it became clearer and then you heard the heavy crunch of boots over debris. You froze.
A dark shadow came into view on the floor in front of the paper covered door. Your fingers trembled at your thigh, hovering just over your blade. He moved past the door but his shadow didn’t move immediately into the window like it should have. If it weren’t for the eerie whistling, you’d have even thought he left. Then there was a hefty crunch of glass just outside of the window over your other shoulder. You held your breath in your throat as he continued to whistle his song. Fingers gripping your blade you turned your head up towards the window. You couldn’t see much, just the tip of his nose beneath its veil. All he had to do was look down and you were as good as dead. He stayed there for a while just whistling his song before finally turning and walking away. The whistling faded down the street.
You didn’t move for what felt like a whole hour, too afraid that he was still there just waiting for you to come out. The moment you’d witnessed kept replaying in your head over and over until it was burned into your memory forever. You tried to think of other things but it only made it worse because all you could think of was moments with Hyunwoo. His kind face during quiet conversations, the way he laughed, watching him eat at community dinners, the way he cared for Taemin and Jongin. When you were sure you couldn’t cry anymore you sat in silence and tried to remind your numbed body that the sun wouldn’t be in the sky forever and you had people to warn.
A sudden realization hit you then. You knew the song he was whistling. He’d been whistling the song you were listening to in the sound booth. Tonight You Belong to Me. He knew you were there. He knew you were there before you ever even knew he was in the city. He knew you were there when he killed Hyunwoo. He had just been tormenting you. He was probably going to torture every last one of you. You turned to the side as you threw up the contents of your stomach and continued to gag until you were just dry heaving. You couldn’t get yourself to breathe so you just choked on nothing until finally you were able to gasp in a lungful of air.
Still shaking you repeated your new mantra. There are people to warn. Pushing yourself up to your feet you snatched your backpack out of the sound booth and jumped out of the window. Your legs shook like jelly as you made your way cautiously back around the corner and down the block. You paused for just a moment and looked over to the intersection where it happened. You couldn’t start crying again, there wasn’t time. There are people to warn. So you started to run again.
You sprinted all the way back to Cordially, by the time you got there you were wheezing and it felt like you’d torn something at your side. The bar only had two shot glasses that were flipped over. Not even bothering to flip your own you kept moving. Running down the stairs you nearly snapped your ankle slipping off the bottom step.
Baekhyun stared at you wide eyed from the spot he’d taken up on the couch. He’d been paranoid all morning long after what happened. Worried that you’d seen him on the roof, that you’d tell the others and you’d get him exiled from the Community for being a pervert. He didn’t even finish his whole route before coming home. He couldn’t focus and almost got attacked by a Lurker he hadn’t been paying enough attention to.
Your brain was a slushy, panicked soup as you tried to figure out who was there and who was missing. You gasped out your breaths as you looked at Baekhyun and cried out, “Yeol?!”
“Wait!” Baekhyun jumped up off the couch, “Y/n, please! It was a mistake, I shouldn’t have been there. Let’s just talk about this.”
You’d doubled over, still bleeding hands on your knees as you gasped for air. Looking up at him your forehead creased in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“What? What are you talking about?” he asked back, realizing that maybe you weren’t here for what he thought you were here for.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Chanyeol asked, ducking out from behind his sheets.
“Where’s Seul? Irene...where?” you gasped. “Get them back! Get them back here now!”
“Woah, Y/n, calm down.” Chanyeol said growing concerned, “Just breathe, what’s going on? Are you bleeding?”
“Get them!” you screamed. “He’s here. Baddie. He’s here!”
“What?” Baekhyun’s eyes blew wide, “Are you serious?”
“Why would she fucking lie?” Chanyeol asked moving quickly to the desk to find the walkie talkie. There was a second of static and then he called out, “Hello, this is Chanyeol, is anyone there?”
After a moment of deafening silence there was a panicked, “Yeol, it’s Jongin! We need help! We need help! He’s here!”
“Shit. Okay, Jongin. Hold on.” Chanyeol let out a deep breath and looked over at Baekhyun, “Check out front for them, be careful.”
“No!” you gasped, grabbing Baekhyun by the front of his shirt. “Please, Baek, stay. Don’t go out there. He killed Hyunwoo. He’ll kill you too. Please! Please don’t leave!”
“What?” Baekhyun wrapped his arms around your trembling form and helped you gently to the ground. “What did you say?”
“He k-killed…” the reality of it crashed down on you finally and you let out a sob. “He- oh god...He’s dead!”
“Okay, okay.” he pulled you into his arms even tighter, trying to soothe your breakdown. “You’re safe, I’ll stay. We’re all gonna stay here.”
He looked up at Chanyeol who’d taken the walkie to the corner to try and hear better. He was listening to Jongin as Baekhyun caught his eye.
“Hyunwoo?” he mouthed. Chanyeol nodded solemnly. “Fuck.”
Baekhyun waited until you were just lightly crying instead of hysterically sobbing before pulling away from the embrace. He pushed the hair out of your eyes and wiped the mess from your cheeks.  
“I have to go see if I can find them.” he said as calmly as he could, still your eyes blew open like you were going to argue again. “Hey, no! Stay calm. I’ll be okay. You want Seul and Irene back safe, don’t you?”
You nodded and sniffled.
“Then stay here with Chanyeol, he’ll help you with your hands and by the time he’s done we’ll be back.”
Breathing heavily, trying hard not to break down again, you clutched the front of his shirt again, “Promise me.”
With his free hand he rubbed your cheek with his thumb and grinned, “We both know you don’t even like me that much.” Then taking your hand in his he gently freed himself from your death grip on him and stood up. “I promise, I will come back.”
“Baek,” you whispered, looking up at him lost for words, “I...I hate you so much.”
He couldn’t help but smile, “I know. I love you too.”
You felt helpless as you watched him grab his weapons and take the stairs two at a time. Then suddenly he was just gone from view. Chanyeol was hovering over a map of the city, still on the walkie talkie. He was trying to reassure Taemin and Jongin that everything was going to be okay while he started check-ins with the other families. He told them to stay low and locked in.
Once he’d calmed them down enough he started on you. He pulled you to your feet, however shakily, and helped you get the knives off your thigh. Then he brought you over to the desk and helped you clean your hands while he kept up with check ins. You felt numb as you watched him pour water over your hands, the dirt and blood washing off into the bowl beneath them. Then he carefully pulled the left over bits of glass from your palms with tweezers. You didn’t even move when he poured hydrogen peroxide over the cuts. You started to realize he’d been trying to talk to you.
“Everything’s going to be okay.” He said, “We’re gonna figure this out.”
He repeated it over and over. You thought maybe he was saying it more for himself than for you. When he’d finished wrapping your hands you tried to distract yourself by helping him with check-ins, taking note of those who had made it back to their bunkers. Listening in on the ones who had witnessed him, and marking on the map where they’d seen him and when. Hearing almost everyone's voices was calming. However when everything was done only twenty out of thirty-two were accounted for. Seulgi, Irene, and now Baekhyun were part of the missing.
An hour and a half passed by quickly and still nothing. It was almost sundown. You sat on the couch and picked a few leftover pieces of glass from where they’d gotten caught in your jeans. You wondered whether or not it was too late in life to start seriously praying. Chanyeol was sitting in the desk chair with his head in his hands as the two of you waited. The two of you shared twin legs, bouncing relentlessly with anxiety. It was so quiet between the two of you that you could hear the stomping upstairs before the door to the basement crashed open.
“Chanyeol?!” Seulgi shouted as she flew down the stairs.
He was there in a matter of steps to meet her at the bottom before she made it there herself. She jumped off the last step and wrapped her arms around him so tight you thought he might snap. Her face was covered in tears as she kissed his cheeks and he kissed hers. You were relieved to see her but there was a heavy weight on your chest as they told each other how much they loved one another. Finally her eyes moved over his shoulder and she saw you.
“Oh my god, Y/n!” she said moving out of his arms to the couch and wrapping her arms around you. “Are you okay? What happened?”
She flipped your hands over to check your bandages. “I’m fine, it’s nothing. Are you okay?”
She nodded, “Scratches from the run back but yeah, I’m okay.”
“Did you see Ba- where’s Irene? Is she okay?”
“She’s hurt, that's what took so long. It’s her ankle, I’m sure she just twisted it. We had bunkered down, I wasn’t sure how we were gonna get back but Baek found us. He’s helping her back but he told me to run ahead to safety.”
“I should go. I should help him.” she grabbed your wrist tightly.
“No.” she said pointedly, “He said specifically not to let you leave. He said he’s fine. I promise, y/n, they were right behind me.”
“Okay.” you nodded, your leg still shaking anxiously.
“I’m going to go check with Yeol, see what we need to do to prepare.” She grabbed your face in her hands, making you look at her, “Stay. Here. I’m serious.”
You watched as she stood and moved over to the desk with Chanyeol. He was back on the walkie with the other leaders, leaning over the map and soon Seulgi was joining him. As quietly as you could you moved toward the stairs and grabbed your new knives. Keeping your eyes on Chanyeol and Seulgi you crept up the stairs.
Once you were out of the basement you rushed to holster your knives as you went to the door. You paused for a moment before reaching for the handle. Before you could the door burst open, slamming against the wall. You let out a scream and jumped back. Baekhyun was standing in the doorway holding Irene in his arms. His jaw clenched tight when he saw you standing there, ready to go. Guns, well blades, blazing.
He was tense as he pushed through the door, “And where were you going?”
“Nowhere.” You lied as you closed the door and slid the two by four into place. “I just wanted to get the door for you. I knew you’d have your arms full.”
“Bullshit.” He spat angrily.
By then Chanyeol and Seulgi had heard your scream and made their way upstairs to see what had happened. They exchanged a few words as Chanyeol grabbed Irene from Baekhyun and moved back downstairs. Baekhyun stayed, his shoulders tense as he watched Chanyeol retreat into the basement. You quickly turned back to the door to close the curtains. He was pissed. He didn’t usually get pissed, so you could always tell easily when he was. And he was going to let you know just how pissed.
“I said don’t leave. I said I was fine. And I know Seulgi told you everything I said.” He practically growled as he turned towards you. You kept your back to him, staring at the curtains wondering how you could disappear into them.
“I didn’t leave.” You said with a gulp. “Technically.”
“You were about to!” He shouted, and you spun around, “Why can’t you listen ever? Why do you always think you know better than everyone else? You’re so much more capable, right? None of us could ever survive without you!”
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay! I could have helped.” You shivered at the sight of how livid he was. The back of his neck and ears were red and he was dripping sweat.
“No, you couldn’t have! I didn’t need your help. What I needed was for you to sit your ass in the basement and stay safe.” He spat, “Everyone knows you’re strong, y/n. We know you’re tough. We know you can handle everything on your own. Well guess what, y/n? So can I! I’m just as tough. I’m just as capable.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t.”
“That’s exactly what you were saying by trying to come out there! You think I need help, that I can’t do it. It says you don’t trust me enough to let me take care of it on my own.” He continued to yell, you pushed back into the locked door. “You always get so mad when anyone wants to help you. You think everyone thinks you’re weak. Then you go and do the same shit you hate to everyone else. And what fucking good would it have done? What if you went in the opposite direction? What if you didn’t know we’d made it back? Then I have to go back out there and try to find you too because you couldn’t curb your ego just this once. Then we’re both out there. Then we both die. Great fucking idea, genius.”
“Stop!” Seulgi hissed from the other side of the bar, “Stop yelling and come downstairs before Baddie hears you and comes in here to kill all of us.”
Baekhyun glared over at you, he practically snarled, “It’s not worth arguing over anyway. Not like she ever listens.”
You watched in shock, eyes glistening with tears, as he walked away. He’d never, in the entire time you’d known him, yelled at you like that. Not even close. You were shaken. There had been a barstool at the counter that he passed and then he paused. Taking a step back he grabbed the stool and hurled it across the empty hall. When it landed two of the legs were smashed off and skidded across the polished floor. He didn’t say anything else, just stomped down the stairs to the basement.
“You okay?” Seulgi asked, she came over to the door and threw an arm over your frozen shoulder.
“Fine.” you said and shook it off. “He’s right.”
“I told you not to leave.” she said with a shrug as the two of you walked back towards the basement.
“I didn’t even-“
“What?” she laughed, “you didn’t even get the chance to step out of the building?”
“Exactly!” you pouted.
She continued to laugh as you reached the steps. “Amazing, how you continue to miss the point.”
“Which is?”
“He loves you. He yelled at you because the idea of losing you is too much. I would have said the same shit to Yeol. A hundred percent.”
“Well I love you guys too. That’s why I wanted to help.” The two of you had paused at the top of the stairs as she closed the door.
“No, Y/n.” She shook her head gently and sighed. “He’s in love with you.”
You shook your head this time but more defiantly, “No. If he’s in love with anyone it’s with Chanyeol.”
“You love him too.” She said quietly.
You looked back at her, almost disgusted. “I don’t. I don’t love him any more than I do any of you. Actually, I probably love him less. He’s...clingy, and always in my business. And he thinks he’s so funny. It’s annoying.”
“You love him.” She repeated, and looked at you seriously, more serious than she usually did, “I hope you realize that before you lose him.”
“Byun Baekhyun is a cockroach. He can survive anything. He’s not going anywhere.”
“Whatever you have to tell yourself.” She said, raising her eyebrows. You just groaned before making your way down the last of the stairs.
-
Tension in the basement was thick that night. Chanyeol was stressed to the point that it looked like he might tear his hair out. It seemed like Seulgi had given up on you for the evening. Even after another couple of hours passed Baekhyun still wouldn’t even look at you. And all of you, in general, were on high alert with the threat of Baddie somewhere out in the city. Seulgi setup Irene on the couch so that she could rest and elevate her ankle, which luckily had been twisted but wasn’t broken. The rest of you sat around the room, mostly patient, as Chanyeol connected with the other families over the walkies to devise a plan for the next day.
It seemed simple enough. Each family was to take an inventory of everything they had, so that you knew what you had on hand to use against Baddie. Then you were all to meet at the amphitheater at noon. The sun clearly didn’t have the same effect on Baddie as it did the Lurkers, and everyone had decided that meant that you needed to be extra cautious moving around the city during the day. From there, once you were all together, you would devise your plan and take votes as necessary.    
The night was finally winding down. Everyone was exhausted and hungry. You especially had been drained physically and emotionally for hours already after having to describe to your family, and everyone on the walkie talkies what you’d seen. All you could think about was crashing on your cot, turning on some music, and contemplating never moving again. As a family you’d all taken inventory of everything you had stored away and in your bags. Everything would have been fine, but then Chanyeol had to push that he knew you kept spare batteries.
“Chanyeol!” You whined, “come on, seriously? It’s two batteries.”
“Y/n, I’m sorry.” He said sternly, “It sucks and I’m sorry. I know you’re almost always the one that gets them for us, but you know he’s an energy vampire. We don’t know where we’ll need those two batteries to go if we want to survive. What if we need extra flashlights?”
“Whatever.” You snapped, angrily dragging your bag to your lap. You pulled out your tape player and released the two batteries. You slammed them down on the table and looked up at Chanyeol, “Are we done now? Can I go?”
“Yeah,” he sighed, “Thank you.”
Without another word you got up and grabbed your things before rushing off to your space. You weren’t about to stick around for dinner, it wasn’t as if you could stomach anything anyway.
Seulgi ran her hand over Chanyeol’s back as he buried his face in his palms and groaned, “I hate being the bad guy.”
“She doesn’t think you’re a bad guy.” She assured him. “She’s just having a bad day.”
“Bad day.” Irene scoffed lightly, “I can’t imagine seeing what she saw. Yeah I saw my boyfriend torn to pieces but Baddie in the flesh? That’s bad enough. Baddie killing your friend right in front of you...I’d be so messed up if I was her. It’s like watching the actual end of the world unfold in front of you.”
Baekhyun knew it was petty and it was insensitive but part of him just couldn’t help but mutter out, “Doesn’t get worse than Baddie killing your boyfriend then.”
Irene shook her head, “They weren’t together.”
“They liked each other.” He argued.
“He liked her,” Seulgi sighed, exhausted, “but she likes-“
“Now's not the time, Seul.” Chanyeol said, putting a gentle hand on her leg, “We should eat and get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be rough enough as it is. We have a lot of decisions to make.”
-
After getting ready for bed you laid on your cot quietly as you listened to the others. You picked at the loose threads on your blanket as you tried to imagine what everything they were doing looked like. The sounds of food being made on the hot plate, the smell of something bland. They talked for a little bit about Hyunwoo, memories of him. Then they discussed whether or not they thought the rest of the missing were dead too.  You weren’t trying to eavesdrop, it just wasn’t hard to hear everything everyone said and did.
You watched the lights fade on the ceiling as lanterns went out for the night and people headed to bed. As you laid there in the silence you were certain that you wouldn’t be able to get to sleep. Not with how loud your thoughts were in your head. You’d been laying there, contemplating grabbing a book when you heard Baekhyun's voice came from the other side of your privacy sheet.
“Knock, Knock.”
“What?” You said with a little more bite than you intended.
He dipped his head in between your sheets, “You’re supposed to say, ‘who's there’. You ruined the joke.”
“What do you want, Baek?” You sighed. “Come to yell at me some more? Tell me what a shitty person I am? Because I think you really made your point earlier.”
You watched from your bed as Baekhyun dipped all the way inside through the sheet and sat down on the cot next to your legs.
He waited a moment and said, “You're not shitty and I'm sorry I yelled at you. Tensions were very high. I was just worried, scared. I don’t know, whatever it was, you didn’t deserve that.”
“Yes, I did.” You sat up, pushing your back against the wall. “You were right. What I was going to do was stupid and reckless. I could have gotten all of you killed.”
He looked at you, eyebrows raised. “Say that one more time. The thing about me being right.”
You shook your head. “I will not and you can’t prove I ever did.”
He grinned and looked down at his lap. “I really was just worried. If I’d come down here and you were missing-”
“I know.” You said quietly.
“Anyway, I’m still sorry I yelled. Even if I was, as you said in your very own words, right.” he put his hand down next to your thigh and removed it to reveal two batteries and a granola bar. “If he asks where you got them...”
“He’ll never find out.” Your straight face turned into a smile. Your smile grew and grew until finally turning into a laugh. What you’d really wanted to do was wrap your arms around him and cry about how much it meant to you, but you also weren’t in the mood to cry any more today.
“There it is.” he smiled, rubbing his thumb over your appled cheek, he looked at his watch and then turned its face towards you. It was only eleven. “I made it with time to spare. The smile a day streak continues, gotta be a word record by now.”
You sighed and sank down onto your mattress. “Go to bed, Baek.”
“Right here? With you!” his eyes went wide and his smile was blinding as he joked.
“No!” you groaned as he pushed himself next to you on the mattress anyway. You shoved his chest lamely, “Get off, go to your bed.”
He pouted, burying his face in your side before mumbling, “but you’re so soft and warm.”
“You’re so annoying, Byun Baekhyun!” you said though it was through a laugh. You pushed him with all your strength until the only part of him left on your bed was his stubborn head. His eyes were closed as if he were resting but the smile on his face was bold and pleased. “I hate you so much!”
Still shaking with laughter he stood up finally and gave you a pat on the head, “I love you too, y/n.”
“Hey, Baek…” you said quietly as he reached the sheet. He turned and looked over at you expectantly. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”
“I promised I’d come back, right?” with a small smile you nodded, “Sleep tight.”
158 notes · View notes
azbagans · 5 years ago
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Stuck With You
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Pairing: Zak Bagans x Reader
Summary: Stuck in quarantine with Zak is slowly driving you both insane, but a minor argument brings things back into perspective. (Inspired heavily by “Stuck with U” By Ariana Grande & Justin Bieber.)
Warnings: None (basically fluff central with minor hints of angst.)
Lately you and Zak had been bumping heads, and honestly you couldn’t pin point why. Problems were a rare occurrence in your relationship, and in the case you were to argue it would be because you were upset at how careless he could be when taunting spirits or whatever it might have been. You only argued because sometimes he wouldn’t even tell you about it, so you’d find out when you watched the episode air, which was the frustrating part. 
However, that wasn’t the case this time, because he had to postpone any planned investigation for the time being since the coronavirus forced states to lockdown, urge citizens to stay home, and social distance. Truly, the first few weeks weren’t all that bad. You both had missed spending time together, so you both enjoyed spending time together. Learning new meals to cook, having him assist any baking you wanted to try, cuddling up and watching movies and TV shows, or playing with Gracie out in the backyard. This was the soft domestic side you missed Zak showing, and it was comforting for you both. 
Of course Zak was often FaceTiming Aaron, Billy, and Jay as they did their best to work from home either on editing old footage or planning for future renovations for Zak’s Haunted Museum. Honestly, sometimes they were simply just joking around with each other as they talked about everything and nothing all at once. 
“Babe, you forgot to refill Gracie’s bowl.” You sighed as you refilled both Gracie’s water bowl and food bowl while you were at it. He was recently deep into who knew what, typing away on his laptop, calling the crew, and obliviously to you some producers too. “I’m sorry y/n, I’m a bit busy.” Zak sighed from the living room, where he sat with his laptop being used to arrange certain things, as well as his cellphone pressed to his ear thanks to his shoulder. 
You had noticed he stopped putting calls on speaker, and spoke softer when you were around, which grew to annoy you. Of course you trusted him, the annoying part was that he clearly didn’t trust you. A soft sigh left your lips as you rolled your eyes and entered the kitchen, making sure all the dirty dishes were around, if not in the sink, before starting to wash the dishes. How there was such a pile of dirty dishes in a household of two was absolutely beyond you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d even suggest a spirit had been helping make the mess. 
The sound of your phone ringing drew you from your thoughts, sighing as you dried one hand quickly to pick up the phone. Using your shoulder to keep the phone in place as you returned to washing the dishes. “Hello?” You responded, setting a now clean plate on the dish rack. “Hello y/n, I hope I didn’t call at a bad time.” Nancy’s voice came through, smiling at the sound of Zak’s mother’s voice. 
“No! Not at all Nancy, just washing a few dishes. How are you doing?” You responded softly as your hands became a soapy mess. “I’m doing just fine honey, thank you. I hope being locked up hasn’t caused Gracie a problem,” Nancy responded with a soft laugh. “No, not at all! We play with her in the backyard often, she still enjoys the outdoors at least.” You laughed, relaxing slightly at the news that she was indeed healthy and well. 
Meanwhile, Zak had been typing away on his laptop to put together a rough draft for their investigation. “No, that won’t be necessary. We’ll handle all the filming. The security cameras will help us make sure we get absolutely everything, so we won’t need anyone else but us four.” Zak finalized with their producer. He, Aaron, Jay, and Billy had agreed to quarantine themselves within his haunted museum for two weeks. It took them some convincing before Zak was able to get everyone on board with the investigation. Zak had grown restless, and he couldn’t just stay home. 
Of course the investigator loved being home with y/n and Gracie, it was relaxing and peaceful, definitely something he had needed. However, he was now ready to get back into work mode, which was challenging considering their ‘stay at home’ order had just been made longer. He was yet to tell y/n, not that he meant to hide it from her, but they had enough with their petty arguments lately. Surely, this would only be the cherry on top.
“So what can I do for you, Nancy?” You asked with a small smile as you were drying your hands, having finished washing the dishes during your small talk. “Well, I was hoping to get in touch with Zak? He hasn’t been answering my calls and I had some questions for the new investigation.” Nancy responded, you grew confused as you let Gracie outside, following her into the backyard. “I’m sorry, he’s been rather busy on the phone lately. He’s on the phone as we speak.” You explained, a small frown on your face as you sat down on the grass. “New investigation?” You questioned.
“Ah, I figured. I just wanted to check in and make sure things were sorted for their new quarantine location. I can’t believe they are going to stay in the museum for the next two weeks.” Nancy sighed, oblivious to the fact that her son hadn’t told you yet. “But anyway, please have him call me as soon as he can? It was nice talking to you, y/n.” Nancy bedded her goodbye. “Of course Nancy, take care.” You responded, hanging up shortly after. 
Zak was going to stay at the museum? You weren’t sure what bothered you the most. The fact that Zak hadn’t even told you yet, the fact that none of the boys had told you either, or how stupid that idea even was. You knew the paranormal was Zak’s life, and you respected that, but you worried for him endlessly. He tended to be a little too ambitious when taunting, or exploring dangerous grounds with demonic or poltergeist activity. “Hey, my favorite girls are hanging out without me?” You heard Zak approach you, as you were torn from your thoughts while watching Gracie bark and chase after a squirrel. 
“Hard to tell,” you muttered as you crossed your arms over your chest. Zak sighed as he took a seat beside you, the outdoor scene of the backyard would have been peaceful and relaxing, had it not been for the tension between the pair. “Babe, we can’t go on this way.” Zak frowned as he glanced your way, though you hadn’t met his gaze. “I agree. You know, I was wondering what I did to make you avoid me so much. When were you going to tell me?” You responded, your voice a bit hoarse as you fought back a few tears. 
Zak wasn’t sure how you’d found out, but he figured it hadn’t mattered much. A sigh leaving his lips as he watched you with a soft gaze, “I’m sorry y/n. Honestly I wasn’t sure the others would even agree, and working with production to approve has been a nightmare. I didn’t want to spark another argument in case it wasn’t even approved.” Zak explained, knowing he should have told her sooner. Zak knew you’d be worried and upset, angry even, but he wasn’t expecting your response at all.
“I don’t get it.. Do you not want to be around me anymore? Am I not making you happy? I just don’t.. understand..” You frowned as your eyes began to water, blurring your vision slightly. “What? No! Where did you even get that from?” Zak frowned as he gently reached for your hands, taking them into his. This wasn’t at all the response he had imagined, and some how, it hurt ten times worse. Seeing you cry was something he never wanted to see. 
“Why else would you want to lock yourself in your museum? For two weeks? Surrounded by the most deadliest and cursed objects on Earth, Zak why are you doing this?!” You asked, the hurt in your voice audible as some tears slid down your cheeks, doing your best to blink away any others. “Y/n, sweetheart…” Zak sighed as he gently let your hands go, to instead cup your face gently, his thumbs wiping your tears away. “I’m so sorry, that’s not at all why we decided to do this. I figured it would give us something to do and considering the fights we’ve been having, it would give you some space. I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately,” Zak explained with a frown on his face as he gazed into your eyes. “But I love you, y/n. I love being around you, even when you run that smart pretty mouth of yours.” Zak reassured with a small smile, before pressing a soft yet sweet kiss to your lips. 
The tension slowly began to ease away, as you relaxed under his touch, kissing back. The contact being something you had missed the last few days after petty disputes. “I love you too Zak. I’m sorry I’ve been so petty lately.” You sighed softly before pouting, “What on Earth am I supposed to do without you the next two weeks?” You selfishly asked, though of course you were only teasing. 
“Don’t worry babe, you’re stuck with me the rest of this quarantine after that. Whether you want to be or not,” He joked towards the end, a soft laugh leaving your lips as he wrapped his arms around you. He brought you into his chest as you now sat on his lap, your head resting on his shoulder. 
“I’m stuck with you, Bagans. Go ahead and drive me insane, its just you and me.” You responded with a small smile, an arm around his neck as you leaned upward a bit and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, Gracie soon running onto your lap as you both shared a laugh. 
There’s no where else you’d rather be.
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interstellarflare · 5 years ago
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However Long It Takes || William Schofield
1917 (2019)
~PART TWO~
Warnings: Slight gore, swearing.
Summary: He first met you in the summer before the war. Since then, you had been the only thing on his mind. Now, he will do whatever it takes to get back to you.
Author’s note: 1917 SPOILERS! If you haven’t seen the movie then please don’t read! I have now changed my original plans, and am attempting to make this a four-part series, so stay tuned for more! Also, apologies for the incredibly long chapters. In addition to this chapter, I wrote this late at night, so please ignore any spelling mistakes. I was tired and wanted to write, so please enjoy!
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Though his letters became less frequent, Will sent as many of them as he could.
You looked forward to the days when they arrived, you were anxious to see how he was coping on the front line. His letters usually contained as small gift, usually a pressed flower he managed to find on his way to and from his post. At some point, a small and delicate rose was encased in a letter addressed to you, Will telling you that one of his close friends, Lance Corporal Tom Blake, had traded a packet of old cigarettes to get it, not that the young man smoked anyway. ‘You should give it to your girl back home’ Blake had told him, having given Will the rose ‘She’ll love it I reckon, pity you can’t send her a cherry blossom’. 
You laughed to yourself quietly, as Annabelle and Catherine were asleep in the next room. With tearful eyes, you pressed a gentle kiss to the paper, sighing heavily as you gently placed the letter and the rose on top of a discarded book atop your bed. There was still much to do before Mrs Schofield came home from the bakery, where she had been all day.
Not too long after Will left for the war, Mrs Schofield had asked you to move in with them after your mother had moved to the country to take care of your grandparents. You had kindly obliged, and it had made the Schofield family’s life incredibly easier. As you cleaned the dishes, you hummed quietly to yourself, the humming eventually turning into soft singing. It was a wordless lullaby that your mother used to sing to you when you were little, and now you sung it for the Schofield sisters to fill their dreams with faeries and sugar plum castles. You did your best to shield those two little girls from the horrors of war. They were your only light in this dark corner of the world that you inhabited.
So many men had not returned home, the thought of Will being one of those men...
Your humming ceased into silence, the dishes in the sink sat unmoving in the soapy water as your hands clenched into tight fists, your knuckles turning white wrapped around the dishcloth. The thought of losing Will, the thought of him not coming home sent cold shivers down your spine.
The door to the Schofield home opened and closed swiftly, Mrs Schofield entering with a tired sigh. She made her way into the kitchen where her weary eyes met your own with a kind expression. “Are the girls asleep?” she asked quietly, once again sighing heavily as you nodded wordlessly. The older woman collapsed into one of the chairs beside the dining table, placing her head in her hands as she closed her eyes. Deciding to finish the dishes later, you moved to sit opposite Mrs Schofield, quietly pulling out your own chair whilst sitting down wordlessly. “How were the girls toady?” the older woman asked lowly, running a stressed hand over her messy greying hair. You smiled “They were well behaved...” you began as you looked towards Annabelle and Catherine’s closed bedroom door “I took them for a picnic up by the cherry blossom orchard, they enjoyed the sunshine for a change”.
Mrs Schofield smiled, chuckling in amusement at the painted image of her daughters running and chasing each other through the rows and rows of cherry blossom trees. Being children again. The trees themselves were not in bloom, but it would have been a joyous sight to behold. It had been the first time they had laughed in the years Will had left. “I’m glad you are here Y/n...” Mrs Schofield mumbled tiredly, yawning as she struggled to keep her eyes open “you have made this war a whole lot more bearable by being there for my family, and for Will”. Small tears welled in your eyes at her kind words, a lump forming in your throat as you choked back a shaky sigh. “You should write to him more...” you spoke slowly, swallowing that hard lump as you cleared your throat “he knows you are busy, but he asked how you were in his most recent reply and-” 
“I don’t...” Mrs Schofield interrupted suddenly, her eyes opening quickly and narrowing on your form. Taking a deep breath, she continued “...I’m too scared to write. What if the one time that I do, he gets blown to pieces before he can even read it”. You mouth fell agape in shock, your eyes wide with disbelief. “He is your son! How could you say something like that!?” You quietly exclaimed, your knuckles turning white as you gripped the edge of the table tightly. Mrs Schofield shook her head with a grumble “You know that this war will take more lives-” “And you think that your own son will be one of them!? I cannot believe that you would believe such a thing!-”
“Mum?”.
A quiet voice from the kitchen doorway. As your turned, your chest tightened at the sight of Annabelle and Catherine, bleary-eyed with stray strands of hair sticking up in awkward angles. The house was completely silent as both girls stared between the two of you, confusion enveloping their expressions. “Is everything alright?” Annabelle mused, her voice low and quiet. When no response came from their own mother, who instead chose to remain silent and avoid her daughter’s gaze, you sighed heavily as you stood from your seat. “Everything is fine girls. Now come, let’s get you back to bed” you spoke sweetly, walking towards them with a kind smile all the while ushering the young girls back to their room. Before you left the kitchen, you turned back to Mrs Schofield with a disapproving stare. “Write to your son...” you spoke angrily, watching sadly as the said woman ignored you completely. It was hard for her, for everyone in this town. “It would mean the world to him if you did”.
When no answer came in response, you sighed heavily and left Mrs Schofield to her own devices and made your way to Annabelle and Catherine’s room. Ignoring their sad gaze, you lazily removed your shoes and sat on the end of Catherine’s bed, sighing heavily as you did so. Annabelle clambered from her bed into her younger sister’s, the two of them sharing an uncertain glance. “Will isn’t coming home, is he?” Annabelle spoke timidly, lying down beside her sister with her eyes slightly glazed. You moved to lie down between them, wrapping your arms around them and bringing them close to your side. “Of course he is! He’ll come back, I know it” you tried to say positively, giving each of them a tight hug while they closed their eyes to return to sleep. It was hard to remain so positive, let alone this optimistic. But you hoped, prayed that Will would eventually come home.
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William chuckled to himself as he read your letter, his eyes taking their time in tracing your cursive handwriting:
I took your sisters to the cherry blossom orchard yesterday. While they might not have been in bloom, they enjoyed it nonetheless. It was the first time they have actually enjoyed themselves since your departure. I have also taught your sisters how to read much more...challenging novels. They have grown up so much Will, they are becoming beautiful young women. Strangely, Annabelle has developed a liking to Shakespeare. Even though she has no understanding what is written, she seems completely fascinated by the story of Romeo and Juliet.
Catherine has found her own artistic talent in drawing! I have encased a drawing of hers inside this letter, as she desperately wanted you to have it.
Your mother wishes you well, Will. She is planning to write to you soon. She misses you greatly, we all do.
I hope you will be home soon, my love. I will wait for you for however long it takes.
Forever yours, Y/n.
P.S. Tell Tom that I found the rose a beautiful gesture. You are lucky to have such a good friend by your side.
Placing the letter aside, Will reached back inside the envelope to remove a small piece of paper. Unfolding the paper brought a large smile to his face, as the multi-coloured swirls of Catherine’s drawing formulated a dazzling memory. Although the majority were stick-figures, the drawing was of the night he had met you, dancing in the town square on that magical summer night. William was amazed, he hadn’t thought that his sisters had been watching. Then again, he supposed that the two smaller yet distinct figures hiding by the lamppost was them anyway. With a feather-light kiss to the paper, will removed the tobacco tin from within his coat pocket and carefully opened it, as to not make a mess of the contents inside. As he placed the drawing and your letter inside, Will’s eyes caught a glimpse of your picture. You had sent it in your first letter to him.
While the photo itself was in black and white, he knew the look of your crimson dress anywhere. You stood amongst the cherry blossom orchard, your (hair/colour) hanging loosely and dotted with stray petals. “Another letter from your girl, eh?” Tom mused from his side, the silence behind the front line broken by the Lance Corporal’s laughter. Slightly embarrassed by his friend, Will chuckled deeply as he placed the tobacco tin back inside his coat pocket. “Yes, it was-” “Did she say anything about the rose? The Frenchman I traded with was a right bastard”.
William laughed louder, he wished he could have seen your face when you beheld the rose. “She did...” he began, smiling fondly “she said and I quote ‘I found the rose a beautiful gesture”. Tom snorted, shaking his head slowly as he spoke “Well I’m glad, she seems like a wonderful woman”. The two of them fell into a comfortable silence, casting their eyes towards the sky to stare up at the flickering stars. The silence was unnerving. Usually, there would be some sort of artillery shelling occurring, but now it was unbearably quiet. “Do you think this war will end?” Tom asked somewhat casually, his tone laced with sadness and uneasiness. Will turned to look at his friend with a bewildered expression “I hope so, I’m sure many of us would like to go back to our families”. A low hum came from Tom as he shifted in his position in the grass. “I wonder how my brother is, I haven’t heard from him in a while, you know...”.
As Tom spoke continuously about his brother, or various other topics, Will found himself slowly succumbing to the lull of sleep. He was tired, so very tired, and all he wanted to do was dream of home. To dream of being at home with his mother, with his sisters, and at home with you.
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William knew that Tom was standing beside him, his hand outstretched in waiting. He knew, because of the shadows dancing across his eyelids. He didn’t want to wake, having heard the majority of the conversation with Sergeant Sanders moments prior.
Pick a man, bring your kit.
Reluctantly, Will opened his eyes. At first, he eyed Tom’s extended hand skeptically, before lifting his gaze to meet his friend’s eyes. Without a second thought, Will took the hand before him, and was hauled to his feet in one swift movement. As Will grabbed his helmet and rifle, an uneasy feeling settled within his stomach.
He wasn’t sure what Blake had picked him for exactly, but something told him that this would be no easy task.
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Tag List: @prideofnewberk @4lendow-norris @blogbykate @strangethings-everywhere @arcaneloki @baekchelor @geekyfer​ @fandom--0verdose​ @gecrgemackays​ @fenderenderender​ @travelingmypassion @thylalock​ @aathepenguin @sexyskywalker​ @ms-baekhyun​ @stardustx0918​ @socialambivert​ @annaabner​
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datenightfright · 4 years ago
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Infamous
This story is dedicated to Oiwa. Thank you for allowing me to share your story, may you one day find peace.
Previous/Next
Pairing: Kayako Saeki x WOC Reader
Warnings: Mentions of blood, stabbing. 
As always, thank you to @mlmdarkfiction and @doodleferp for letting me rant until I figure things out and giving me the best ideas to work with. Your help is indispensable. 
Things were strange nowadays. Somehow, someway, you had become more famous than your husband. When the news of your husband’s strange death hit the media, news crews were outside of your house immediately to bombard you with questions. Did you think it was the work of Kayako? Would his new book be published posthumously? Did you notice anything strange about the house? Did you have any idea who murdered Haru? You did what the police advised you to do. You made a blanket statement to the media at a press conference stating that you hoped your husband’s killer felt remorse and that they would come forward soon, and that you hoped, with time, you’d be able to find happiness once more. You even managed to sound perfectly broken up about the whole matter. 
Some people said you were the one that had done it. Well not, physically, but you’d hired a jealous lover to off him. Thankfully those people were in the minority. The prevailing theory that was some crazy fan had felt slighted by him and decided to end his life the moment he stepped foot outside his house. The theory among his fans though...that was closer to the truth than you’d like to admit. They were adamant that the house had killed him. That the ghost of Kayako had offed him and chucked him out a window. The hole in that theory, however, was why you and your daughter still lived. Didn’t Kayako kill everyone that entered her house?
When you’d told his mother over the phone, the normally stern, composed woman became a wreck of lamentations for her lost son. You helped you father-in-law arrange the funeral, as was your duty, and decided to hold the viewing in their home, since yours had such awful rumors hanging about it. The funeral had been a quick one, but tiring nonetheless. 
Now you were alone in your house, letters and presents from fans stacked about the place, wondering what the hell you were going to do with your life. You had to get a job. Being able to feed yourself and your daughter was of the utmost importance to you. Luckily, it wasn’t such a pressing matter, as Haru left everything he had to you, which was a sizable amount of money, and being his widow meant you got all the royalties from his book. But still, that money would dry up eventually, then where would you be? 
You hum and splash warm water over your daughter. She giggles as you do so. “Clean baby!” You coo, rinsing the soapy water from her feet. “I have a clean baby!” When you’re finished, you pick her up and bring her to your chest, despite her soaked state. She giggles as you place kisses to her cheek. You turn to gather the towel, managing not to yelp when you find Kayako standing directly behind you, towel already in hand. 
You ignore what looks like Kayako wanting to hold your baby, and instead simply take the towel from her. “Thank you,” You say, wrapping your baby up. “Clean baby,” You start to sing again, “I have a clean baby.” You shuffle past Kayako, holding your baby close as you go. 
You continue to sing as you dry Sakura off, dress her, and feed her. Today was going to be a big day. Today you were going to meet with someone that might be able to help you with your problem. You might be able to rid yourself of Kayako once and for all. If not for your sanity, then for the sake of your daughter’s ability to lead a normal life. 
You feel her presence as you put on your shoes. She was always there at the door when you put on your shoes. Her death rattle soon to follow. This time, she grabbed your arm, startling the hell out of you. She was cold, so damnably cold. You look into her eyes. Normally they’re empty pits of black, but now they look...panicked almost. “I’ll be back,” You find yourself saying. “I don’t know when, but I’ll be back.” You give her a shaky smile. She seems to find that an acceptable answer as she lets go of your arm after a moment’s hesitation. Without another word, you slip out the door. 
You try not to rush out of the shadows of the house, but you couldn’t help it. All the time you could get outside of that damnable place was a moment of fresh air and sunshine. Gloom hung eternal around the home, and god dammit you needed to breathe every once in a while. You turn on to the main road, feeling yourself relax more the further away from the house you got. 
You make it to your mother-in-laws house with little problem. Parking on the side of the street, you get out and gather your baby. Before you shut the back door, your mother-in-law is rushing down the drive to greet you. She pulls you into a hug before taking Sakura from your arms. Ever since Haru died she’d been more...tolerable of your presence, sometimes going overboard with affection. It was still awkward for the both of you, but neither of you said anything about it. Perhaps it was because you were the mother of her last connection with her baby boy and she understood that you could take all that away from her. Ironic, really. 
You hurry up the drive behind her as she babbles to the baby about how much fun they were going to have. You both stop in the doorway, you huffing at your slight exertion, and your mother-in-law giving you that infuriating expectant look. Some things never changed. “Here,” You say, shoving the baby bag to her chest, not caring how rude it was. She didn’t have Haru to bitch at any more, thus, you didn’t have a care in the world. “I’ll be back tomorrow evening,” You say, giving your baby a quick kiss. “You be good for Grandma ok?” You say as she giggles. 
Waving bye to her you enter your car once again, you blow kisses before your line of sight is cut off by a closed door. You were silently thankful for your mother-in-law, even if you still didn’t like her. One night to get this shit figured out, one afternoon meeting. You were hellbent on riding yourself of this curse, or die trying. A momentary skip of your heartbeat as you thought of your baby. Would she go down with you? If you played your cards right, Sakura would at the very least be safe from the curse. 
You try to speed your way to your destination, but find yourself lost in the maze that is Japan. Looking over and over at your list of directions, you were lucky enough to park with more than enough time to make it to your meeting. 
You fix yourself as you hurry towards the building. Professor Ibuki Sato had agreed to meet with you to discuss your current circumstances. Well, alright, he hadn’t agreed to meet you, more like begged. He was a professor of the paranormal at a community college and had been one of your late husband’s most ardent fans. He emailed you days ago, wanting to know what really happened. You didn’t trust him one bit, so you were going to monitor your story as much as you saw fit and gauge his reaction from there. You only wanted help for one thing, and you were going to go to hell and back to get it. 
You easily find your way to the professor’s room. You knock lightly, trying to adjust your outfit again. You couldn’t understand why you were so nervous. The door opens and one girl comes out, looking bored and irritated. There was an aura around her that reminded you of the house. It was so strong, you had to take a few steps back. She looks at you curiously, but says nothing as she walks away. You watch her as she leaves. 
“Mrs. Kubo!” A loud voice interrupts your rude staring. A disheveled man looks brightly at you. “Come in!” He says, holding the door wide open for you. “Thank you,” You mutter, bowing to him and hurrying in. 
“Please, have a seat.” he motions to a chair. You sit, sinking right into its squishiness. It would be comfortable if not for the fact that you were so nervous. Professor Sato sits across from you, a smile flitting across his face. It wasn’t a perverted one at the very least, just a bit awkward. “I’m so sorry about your husband,” he says. You nod, making a non committal noise. “He was a pioneer in the field,” Sato said awkwardly, “I mean he, he-”
“Can we cut to the chase?” You ask gently. The professor looks relieved. “Is the house really haunted?” He asks. “Yes,” You simply say. “But it’s weird.”
“Weird? How? Haven’t you lived in haunted places before.” You snort. “None of them were haunted.” You tell him. Shaking your head, “Not like this anyway. Kayako…” You pause trying to find the right words. “It’s been three months,” You say, exasperated. “Three months and she’s done nothing more than jump scare me by standing behind me when I least expect it.” Sato frowns at your explanation. “She cooks breakfast most mornings, and dinner, she does the dishes. She’s even done the laundry once. She’s always hovering like...like she’s waiting to help or something.” You continue to ramble for nearly ten minutes about all the things she did. Making the bed, arranging shoes neatly by the door, even putting papers in neat, organized piles. Sato listened without interrupting. 
“It sounds like she’s in love,” He says blandly. The statement shocks you so bad you physically jump. “Excuse me?” 
“Think about it,” Sato says, “Making food, cleaning up around the house, it all sounds like she’s trying to take care of someone she’s in love with.” Your brow furrows, your brain somehow not able to puzzle it out. “Who the hell could she possibly be in love with?” You mutter. Your husband was dead, and the last man she was married to killed her so violently she still haunted the mortal realm. Sato looked at you, highly amused. “You,” He says through a chuckle. “That’s absolute bullshit.” You deadpan. This causes him to throw his head back with laughter. “Is it?” 
“Yes!” You say, standing up in indignation, “It is! There’s no way in hell she’s in love with me. She’s dead!” 
“In Japan, the dead are thought to be born from high emotions, to feed off them. Hatred and rage are two of the most powerful, but so is love.” Sato explains, “Here, I want to show you something.” Sato moves towards his desk and you follow him. He brings out a journal and hands it to you. “It’s Kayako’s journal,” He says, pride obvious in his voice. You don’t even want to begin to think about how he’d gotten it. 
You take the journal but don’t open it. “Well?” Sato says, obviously excited. You grimace. “I don’t think it’s right,” You say, putting the book on the desk. Sato looks at you with confusion. “You said it yourself, she’s dead.”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to live with her ghost.” you mutter. Sato nods in acquiescence. “The journal describes her life from the time she was eight years old to the moment of her death.” Sato explains, taking to book up again. “It serves as the counterpoint that tipped the balance in her disfavor. It seems as though she was obsessed with someone during her lifetime.”
“Obsessed?” You murmur. Sato nods. “She followed him everywhere. Watched him. His name is written all over the pages of her book.” He holds the object in question in the air. “It’s possible that, by some miracle, her curse has changed from vengeance, to one of unrequited love.”
“You’re damn right it’s unrequited! I want her out of my life! She makes me miserable, I don’t-” You stop, gaining control of yourself. “I don’t want my baby to grow up in that damned place,I want her to survive this stupid curse. But I don’t have many options.” 
Sato presses his lips together. “I’ll have to do some research.” He tells you honestly. “Can I give you a call?” You huff, running your hands through your hair in frustration. “Fine,” You say, “Fine. You know how to get in touch with me.” You turn on your heel to leave but pause. A familiar flash of black moves across a picture frame. Kayako. Shit. She heard everything, of that, you were sure. 
*
You lived in fear. Any day now Kayako would extract her extreme revenge, you just knew it. You wince at a creak sounding off somewhere in the house. Yes, any moment now Kayako was going to come out of hiding and end your life. 
You huff and roll over, hoping she would just do it already. The suspense was making you a nervous wreck. Another creak, another wince. Was it windy outside you wonder? The house is usually as silent as a tomb. Perks of it being haunted you guessed. You groan and flop over on your back. You were getting nowhere. “Kayako?” You called out, for the zillionth time. And for the zillionth time no response. 
Two weeks, it had been two weeks since your fight with Kayako. If you could even call it a fight. After your meeting with Sato, you’d come home to a completely wrecked house. Furniture upturned, papers everywhere, pictures on the walls hung askew. You had tried calling for her, and at first, she hadn’t come out. Not until you reached the master bedroom where she had scared the living daylights out of you. 
You had yelled at her. Fear had given you the push you needed to voice your opinion. She scared you, and no one could really blame you. She was known for her merciless killings. She was toying with you, and you hated that. You wished she would just get it all over with. But spare you baby, please God spare your baby. With your confessions hanging in the air, she disappeared. You hadn’t seen her since, despite trying to get in touch with her. 
Sato seemed unreachable as well. Phones in the house didn’t work, whether it was because of Kayako, you didn’t know. But your computer worked just fine. You’d send him several emails, wondering if he got anywhere, but no response from him. You were worried, but too scared to track him down. What if he died because of your visit? You really didn’t want to find out. 
Just as you were about to drift off into a fitful slumber, Kayako’s death rattle started up. You screamed and flung yourself away from the door, off the bed and to the floor. This is it, you think, she’s going to kill me now. Thank God Sakura was with her grandmother for her weekly visit. The door bursts open and Kayako begins to crawl in, her black hair obscuring her face. “Come on,” You whisper, fear rooting yourself to the spot. “Come on, come on, come on,” Tears begin to run down your face. You’ve accepted your fate long ago. You were ready even if you were scared. 
You let out another screech as the sound of a cat’s cry meets your left ear. You throw yourself against the night stand. Toshio was sitting in his usual position, crouched with his hands on his knees, mouth wide open. He looked...terrified to you. Not like the empty soul he usually looked like. But genuinely scared. A grating sound rips your attention away from him. You look over the bed, Kayako has stopped moving towards you. She was now moving backwards...no...that’s not right...she was being dragged backwards, her nails digging into the wooden floor, leaving claw marks in their wake. She looked to you, her face also screwed into one of terror. “Kayako?” You breathe, wondering what the hell was going on. 
You scream as furniture begins to shake, a great rumbling tears through your home. You’re convinced for one moment that the house is going to rip itself in two. “Kayako?” You yell over the cacophony of it all. Motherly instinct overcomes you, and you drag Toshio to your side, he clings to you as though his life, or lack thereof, depends on it. Kayako continues reaching for you. She’s jerked, once, twice, three times before you spring into action. “Kayako!” You leap over the bed and grab her wrists. 
You now know something is wrong from the way she clings back. You play a strange game of tug of war before you’re jerked forward. Your grip on her is so tight you’re dragged right through the doorway before slamming into the hall’s wall. The shocking force of the hit loosens your grip a fraction and Kayako is pulled from you. “No!” You run for her. 
Down the stairs you go, stopping only when you get to the living room. Why the hell did everything exciting happen in the living room? “What the ever loving hell are you doing?!” You screech. A figure in the middle of the room turns to you. “This is the only way!” They yell, from the sound of it, they were male. “You don’t have to worry anymore!” He continues, “I know how to really get rid of her, once and for all, there will be no more Kayako!” 
“No!” You scream, lunging for him. He easily brushes you off, throwing you to the ground. You watch in horror as the man reaches behind him. Your horror turns to confusion when he brings out what looks to be a small child rather than a weapon. The tiny thing struggles against him, to no avail. “With this sacrifice, Kayako will-” The man doesn’t finish his sentence. Aiming for his knees, you tackle him to the ground. He falls on you with a soft ‘oomph’. Luckily, you were prepared for the inevitable catch and rolled him off with little hardship. You scramble to your feet. Grabbing for the child, you’re met with no resistance as you run off into the house. “Come back here, you bitch!” The man thunders. 
You race back to your room, slamming the door behind you. What the fuck? What are you going to do? Somewhere in your panicked brain you shove the child into the closet, hoping Kayako doesn’t pull one of her nasty tricks and kill the poor thing. They cry out, reaching for you, just as scared. You hush them, “You’re ok,” You say, “You’re ok, I won’t let him hurt you. Hush now, hush.” You shut the door to the closet as they fall silent. 
Your door rattles as the man rages on the other side. “You bitch! I’ll kill you!” He yelled, throwing himself against it. You look around your room for something to defend yourself with. You had a bat, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember where you put it. You don’t get the chance to search for it before your door bursts open with a terrifying crunch. The man, half crazed in the moonlight, is huffing, staring at you. “You dog,” He hisses, “You will not stand in the way of my revenge.” 
“Why are you in my house?” You cry, legs shaking. “I’m here to kill Kayako!” He yells, “I’m going to end her miserable curse! You aren’t going to stand in my way!” He lunges for you, but misses. Still, he has you cornered in seconds. “I won’t let my daughter’s death be in vain! You won’t stop this!” He grabs for you once more, stumbling over one of Sakura’s toys. This allows you the precious seconds you need to dodge and run back down the stairs. 
He roars with rage, hot on your tail. You’re cornered easily once more in the kitchen. You whirl around to meet your attacker. There’s no way you’re going to get out of this alive, you’re sure of it. Maybe this is how the curse works? You think Kayako drives others to do her dirty work then picks the last one off. No, that wasn’t right, not in this instance. Kayako had been scared, Toshio too. This guy was the real deal. “You’re dead!” The man yells, stumbling forward. 
His hands wrap around your neck. You flail knocking everything on the counter over. You go down, he goes down on top of you. In the back of your mind, you’re reminded of Haru. Just a few months ago he tried choking you to death too. Kayako had saved you then, she wouldn’t now. A strange sense of calm overcame you, a sense of clarity. This was how you died. Unable to watch your precious daughter grow into a young woman. Unable to watch her fall in love for the first time, to have children of her own…
The man lets you go, slapping you hard. You taste blood in your mouth and spit it out. Your head is still reeling from the smack when his hands close around your neck again. That’s when you see it, a silver glint, a sliver of hope. A terrible rage overcomes you. For months you’ve lived in terror, for months you expected to die, night after night, in the most terrible of ways. You’ve tasted the brink of death more times than you wanted to. You’d had enough quite frankly. Moving automatically, you hand grips the knife, swinging it with all your might you instantly feel the pressure on your neck ease, then disappear altogether. Something warm drips onto your face as the mystery man slumps over, then finally topples off you. You lay there for a moment, taking in deep breaths of precious air. 
You close your eyes for a moment or two, trying to come to terms with what just happened. The rumbling of the house settles, things fall silent once more. You only open your eyes when you feel something brush against your face. This time, when you meet Kayako’s eyes you don’t flinch. She looks concerned, for what? You? You cough, spitting out more blood. Kayako rattles softly, touching your face. “I’m fine,” You croak, “I’m ok.” You sit up gingerly. 
Coldness overtakes you as Kayako presses herself behind you, her hands rest on your shoulders. When you don’t push her away she takes it as an invitation to get closer to you, wrapping you up in her arms, resting her cheek on your shoulder. You smile, running your fingers over her soft skin. You smile, because for the first time in a long time, you felt alive. And baby, it felt good to be alive.
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andromedarune · 4 years ago
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Bede x Hop Request: “Just Desserts” (p1)
REQUEST ~ “I have one, it’s a hop x bede where bede feels bad for being mean to hop, but is too scared of apologizing to him in fear of rejection. Due to his past at the orphanage and his overall fear of being left alone again. So he decides to send homemade desserts to hop with secret messages ,anonymously . Hop Figures it out when the desserts stop coming after bede gets sick badly ( maybe a bad fever from exhaustion, anything that stops him from baking will do). You can include opal or the other gym leaders teasing hop on who could be sending the treats. I hope this is okay.”
A/N: Lolol this is a 2 parter bc my dumbass couldn’t stop writing even though I was in agony writing this (only bc I'm just not sure if it’s any good lolol). So, uh, please give me validation, haha - Hope y’all enjoy and the second part should be coming up sometime soon (when my brain decides to return into a solid shape).
The third time Hatterene hissed at him from across the room, Bede figured that he needed a better distraction. Obviously pacing wasn’t doing much to ease the frustration in his gut. The boy sighed, pausing to fix his neatly ironed white button-up shirt before turning on his heels and walking out the room. There were better things he could be doing with his time, anyways.
Things certainly have changed for the boy ever since he joined the gym challenge that fateful day. He didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. But he allowed himself a moment of gratitude, despite his usual vocalizations of annoyance in his current position in life, at how it was only a year ago that he was sitting in a poverty-stricken orphanage with a bunch of abhorrent adults pitying him every day. But he’d never let anybody know that, of course. The last thing he needed was people pitying him again; that was even more annoying than people trying to be his friend all the time. People could be so bothersome, it was sickening.
Bede made his way down the hall, unconsciously tip-toeing past Ms. Opal’s bedroom, where she no doubt was resting. Her age seems to finally be catching up with her, these days, since she seemed to be taking more naps than normal. The boy made sure not to comment about it. He didn’t need a lecture from that crazy old bag. Once clear, he made a sharp turn, stepping down the spiral staircase to find himself in the empty dining room. Once upon a time, large parties were held here, no doubt filled with beautifully rich people mingling to some classical music. Thankfully, no such nonsense happened here anymore, which meant Bede had relative free-reign of the house so long as he didn’t cause trouble. He meandered around the long mahogany table, keeping his steps as quiet as possible against the old wooden floorboards, and he made his way into the kitchen.
For years, the only thing Bede could reliably use for stress-relief had been battling. All his frustrations could come loose, he could speak his mind, and relish in the cool, refreshing glow of a victory after everything was said and done. Of course he would end up being pretty damn good at it, after so much dedication and practice. But then he joined the gym challenge, and that all went to pot. Suddenly, he started losing battles. Him? Losing a pokemon battle?! He had never even considered that to be a possibility before, but it was happening. Each and every battle suddenly became so personal, finding every possible weakness in his opponent to expose it and attain yet another beautiful victory. And for most opponents, it worked, and he hardly wasted another thought on the matter. But not all of them left his mind.
Bede frowned, crossing his arms with a huff as he leaned against the counter. These pesky feelings were really getting annoying. Maybe all these sweet-natured and emotional fairy-types were starting to affect him in more ways than one. He ran a hand through his curly locks as if the motion would magically clear his mind. It didn’t.
Well, there still is one thing that might ease his tensions. The youth dug through the kitchen, picking out some of the things he would need, and began his work.
Baking was a guilty pleasure of his, something only his pokemon and Ms. Opal knew about (and she only knew because she caught him in the middle of the night). The only reason he ever considered giving it a shot was because he had a serious sweet tooth, but growing up poor meant that it was hard to buy all those fancy cakes and cookies he longed for in the big bakeries of Wyndon. So he started making them himself. At first, everything was incredibly inedible, but he was stubborn about it. He collected books and articles about baking - all in secret - and eventually became good enough to where he figured that his confectionaries rivaled that of big businesses in the region. He’d probably make a killing off selling them, but he’d never even consider that possibility. The boy would probably die of embarrassment if anybody else found out about his skill in baking. It was bad enough being the fairy king of Ballonlea (as people seemed to be calling him, nowadays); he didn’t need people thinking he was some sweet-hearted weakling, either.
By the time he was whisking away the batter, his Sylveon pranced in, eager to try to steal a taste. The pink pokemon purred at his thigh, wrapping its ribbon-like appendages around his waist while he tried to ignore them.
“Don’t,” Bede snapped at the pokemon. “I’m not giving you any more batter.”
Sylveon barked, attempting to stand on its hind legs to blast a classic Baby Doll Eyes on it’s trainer. It’s not very effective.
“Sylveon.”
The pokemon pouted, slinking off to a corner to watch with a pitiful expression. Bede clicked his tongue, returning to his work in order to avoid falling for Sylveon’s little trap. The last thing he needed was Sylveon getting sick again. The boy worked in near complete silence, the only sounds coming from the occasional bang of a pan or a utensil against the countertop. He didn’t need to bother putting on an apron beforehand; he’s practically perfected his routine to where he hardly ever makes a mess, and if he does, he cleans it up right away. It was lazy to continue working in a dirty station. He eventually pours the dark chocolate batter into a circular pan, carefully tucking it into the preheated oven to cook.
Ah, yes, the time he hated the most - waiting. Thankfully, it wasn’t some giant, triple-decker cake that would need an eternity to cook; just forty minutes would suffice. He tidied up the kitchen a bit, washing some of the utensils and bowls he had borrowed before his mind started to wander yet again. He reached for the whisk when that terrible sensation in his gut suddenly slapped into him again, nearly forcing him down to his knees. The whisk tumbled down into the soapy water, sinking the bottom with a soft clank. Bede bit his lip, trying to keep his mind focused on the present. He didn’t have time to be wallowing in the mistakes of the past - he was better than that.
But still it remained. A bothersome guilt pulled him from the depths of his stomach, reminding him all the bitter words and heartless accusations he had thrown at so many people over the years. He thought that all of his training and efforts under Ms. Opal would be enough to push all those thoughts away, but they only increased with every day that went by. Though the world seemed to be forgiving him, he couldn’t help but hear the whispers of disdain amid the crowd with every match he participated in. It wasn’t like him to care about anybody else’s opinion. But here he was, running through every possible way he could make amends to the world. How pitiful. Bede shook his head. There’s no way to make everybody happy with me, he reminded himself, so just focus on being better. He was right; he couldn’t make amends with everyone, he couldn’t make everyone he hurt suddenly happy. But as Bede reached down for the whisk one more time, he couldn’t resist the want in his chest to try and reach out for the person he had hurt the most.
Yeah, that really wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
Bede near slapped himself in the face. What was he even thinking? Reaching out to someone like that?! Pathetic. He should be ashamed that his brain even came up with such a worthless idea. With another huff, the boy finished the dishes, moving some more things out from the cabinets to begin making the icing. It would be a travesty to put simple whipped cream icing on a chocolate cake, so Bede started working himself through a familiar buttercream recipe. Which was fine; everybody likes buttercream. Well, everyone with a soul likes buttercream. At least in Bede’s opinion.
The oven dinged not too long after. The boy paused his work to pull out the aromous dessert, setting it delicately on the middle shelf of the brand-new blast chiller that he received as a gift from Ms. Opal. He returned to the icing, popping in some pastel pink dye for reasons. The task would likely be complete by the time the cake was an acceptable temperature. He had done this a thousand times. Everything was second-nature, at this point.
Soon enough, it was his favorite part of the process. He scooped all of the icing and stuffed it into a frosting bag, pulled out the cake, and began his work. Out of the entire process, the icing was his favorite. Delicate, precise, no room for error. His mind would go completely blank as his hands did all the work, sculpting elegant rose designs along the sides of the cake. Never anything too elaborate (not that he couldn’t make it fancy, of course), never anything too plain. A perfect work of art - a declaration of love, if you will. But perhaps that was an interpretation that only Bede could recognize, much less appreciate. Finally, it was complete, sitting before him in all its beautiful, delicious glory. Sylveon trotted back up to its trainer, trying to stand up a little taller to get a better look at the result. Bede stared down at the cake, unsure how to feel. It was just what he envisioned. No doubt it would taste as good as it looked, probably even better. He poured his emotions into making this work of art, as he always had. But why did he always hesitate? Hadn’t he made this for himself to eat?
Bede shook his head, trying to hold back the trembling sigh from his lips. He wandered back to the kitchen to wash his hands, Sylveon watching with a perplexed expression. When the pokemon called for his attention, he finally slumped forward, leaning against the counter with his eyes slammed shut.
“I can’t do it,” he scoffed, unsure of who he was even talking to. “I do this every time, and I still can’t do it.”
Sylveon returned to his side, pressing a wet nose against Bede’s elbow. The boy absentmindedly reached down for the lovely creature, running his hands through the soft fur in hopes that it would ease his frustrations.
There was one other reason that Bede baked. He had always thought that food was the way to someone’s heart, especially sweets. Surely it would be enough to earn someone’s forgiveness, as well.
But the idea of actually doing that was terrifying. There was simply no way he could head all the way down to the laboratory in Wedgehurst, knock on the door with his heart in his hands, and beg for forgiveness from the person he had been so sure that he hated with every fiber of his being. And why? Because he was jealous? Confused? Like anybody would believe that nonsense. Even the thought of looking into those brilliant golden eyes again filled him with so much anxiety that it was difficult to breathe. Even thinking that person’s name would be a death sentence for Bede’s decrepit heart. Did he even still have one? Surely he must - all these pesky emotions had to be coming from somewhere. You would think that years of self-inflicted bitterness and anger would wring that stuff out of you, but apparently not.
Sylveon nudged his trainer yet again. Deep magenta eyes peered down, still trying to seem irritated with the pokemon’s constant interruptions.
“What?” he frowned.
The pokemon just stared up at him, that hopeful twinkle in its eyes gleaming with just a hint of… knowingness? The boy flicked up an eyebrow.
“You’re not serious,”
Sylveon barked happily.
“Most definitely not.”
A whine. Bede ran another hand through his hair, shaking his head. There was no way his pokemon was going to convince him to do something so childish. Right?
And yet, there he was, standing in front of the Wedgehurst Pokemon Laboratory, simple white box in his trembling hands. A small pink envelope rested on the top of the box, devoid of any signature or address. Just a quick drop-off gift to ease his conscience a little, nothing more. Sure, he had spent nearly three hours writing a letter - constantly writing then rewriting then rewriting some more in an attempt to make his words sound less annoying - but it wasn’t that big of a deal. Not like he would even know who sent this stuff. Bede made sure of that. So, with a deep inhale, the pink-clad boy gingerly placed the gift on the welcome mat, giving it a much too sentimental pat before racing off. Sylveon, following its cue, slapped the doorbell and scampered off after its owner, hiding beside the side of the building. Bede scooped up the pokemon, holding it to his chest while his heart raced inside of him. Was he making a big mistake? Would he even feel any sort of comfort from this? He wasn’t expecting any sort of forgiveness - he didn’t even sign the note! Maybe this wasn’t exactly his best idea.
The door opened with a creak, halting the gym leader’s breathing for a moment. A hefty bleat burst into life from the porch. No doubt that was Dubwool. Bede held his breath a little longer, clutching onto his decently sized pokemon for dear life.
“Hey, what’s this?” Hop’s voice wafted into the air. Bede could have died right then and there. Already he sounded so different - hadn’t it only been a year since they last spoke to each other? He sounded so much like his brother, but more youthful and bright…. But Bede tried not to think about that too much. “I don’t think Sonia’s expecting a package today.”
It’s for YOU, you dolt, Bede wanted to scream, feeling his face heat up to a rather unsightly shade of pink. Well, if pink could really be unsightly. But the sounds of shuffling and the following shut of the front door soon ease all the tension from the gym leader’s shoulders. Sylveon squirmed a bit in his hold, but Bede was too busy peeking around the corner. The box was now gone, no doubt in the hands of the professor’s assistant. Everything was out of Bede’s hands. He had technically made his amends, and could live his life in peace. With a smug nod of his head, he left the laboratory and made his way back to Ballonlea.
But then next week came along, and the feelings returned again. Bede could hardly focus on his training because of it; those terrible anxious feelings curled around in his stomach, but this time were tinged in a strange sensation of - dare he say - longing. Had Hop read the letter? Had he eaten the cake? Was it good? Did he even like chocolate cake with buttercream icing? Bede paused at that. Everyone likes chocolate cake with buttercream icing, he affirmed to himself, those who don’t are soulless and tasteless wretches! But still, these emotions didn’t seem to be leaving him any time soon. Sylveon pranced up to him as he stomped out of the stadium, frustrated with his own distraction, and offered a knowing yip. Bede didn’t even try to argue. He just grumbled a frustrated affirmation to the pokemon and hurried back to Ms. Opal’s house.
Within the next couple of hours, another elegant cake was crafted, just as perfect as the last. This time, though, he decided upon a chaste vanilla batter, along with a basic cooked frosting that was dyed a pale blue. Unlike the last, this cake was considerably more simple, but still managed to hold an elegant touch thanks to the delicate rose sculptures dancing along the top of the cake. While Bede was positive that his last cake was absolute perfection, he figured that a change of flavors could be appreciated. There was no way that Hop would have disliked something so perfect, no? Bede didn’t let himself entertain that thought.
As he wrapped up his cake, however, he noticed Sylveon trot away from his place at his feet. Before Bede could ask what was the matter, his eyes caught sight of that familiar old woman gazing curiously at the boy from the threshold. Bede grimaced, trying not to seem so guilty.
“A-ah, Ms. Opal, I….”
“Feeling frustrated, I see?” she spoke as plain as day, giving the pokemon a few pats.
Bede looked back down to his creation, wishing that she would just leave him alone. It wouldn’t be the first time anybody would do that.
“I was just feeling unsatisfied with my performance today during training. Nothing more.”
“Hm… And might I add that you’re looking considerably more pink than you usually are.”
Bede grumbled, raising a hand up to his cheeks. Sure enough, they were warm.
“D-don’t you have anything better to do?”
Opal shrugged, seeming content to watch the boy squirm underneath her sharp glare. He was an adorable little thing, if a bit ornery. Well, incredibly ornery. Eventually, though, she began to shuffle off, waving a withered hand in her farewell.
“Go on - make your delivery before the cake gets stale. Wouldn’t want that sweet little Hop eating a stale cake, now, do we?”
“Ah, yes, of course - WAIT WHAT?!?”
But she was already down the hall, hooting to herself in her crazy old laughter. The pink on his cheeks flared into a strawberry red, burning through his body like he was hit with a powerful Will-o-Wisp. How could she have seen right through him? Was he really that obvious? Before he could scream at her that she was misinterpreting things, Sylveon nudged the boy’s side. Well, maybe that could wait until after the cake was delivered. Bede pursed his lips as he finished boxing up the cake, and hurried off to scratch out an acceptable letter to go with it.
Just one more should do it, he reminded himself as he reached the laboratory yet again, depositing his anonymous gift onto the welcome mat just like before. And then my conscience will be clear and I can focus on more important things. He nodded to himself before scrambling away, letting his Sylveon ding-dong-ditch just like last time.
“Oh, another?” Hop’s voice eventually rang out, snagging something deep in Bede’s chest. “I wonder if it’s from the same person?”
Of course it is, you moron! Bede silently fumed from the side of the laboratory, waiting for the door to shut. A few moments went by, filled with a strange silence. Bede crossed his arms, trying to ignore the rising sense of dread in his gut. Just take it inside already, he wanted to shout. But that’d be unwise, exposing himself in such a childish manner. So the gym leader remained silent, counting the seconds as he fought the urge to peek around. Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, the door eventually closed, releasing the breath that Bede had been unconsciously holding the entire time. He glared down at Sylveon, who seemed incredibly happy at the moment as it danced around Bede’s feet.
“Alright,” he whispered, pointing a finger at the jovial creature, “that’s the last one. No more after this - got it?”
Sylveon wagged its tail, staring back with those big dumb eyes to its trainer. Bede let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. He figured that reprimanding the pokemon would be fruitless, so he just decided to leave now while he had the chance. The last thing he needed was to get caught while engaging in an unsightly shouting match with a rather clueless Sylveon.
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exquisitley-obsessed · 4 years ago
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Scars - Part Two (Fred Weasley x OC)
Author: @exquisitley-obsessed
Summary: Scarlett Black, daughter of Sirius Black, has been invited along with Harry and Hermione to the Weasley's Bungalow for the summer before their 5th year. Whilst nice in theory, Scarlett would normally be spending her summer in her father's empty, old flat and finds herself missing the familiarity of that dingy apartment, and feels estranged with the unrelenting love of the Weasley Household. Fred Weasley is the unlikely friend who she finds distracting her from her unique homesickness, and the two find themselves falling into something a little bit bigger and a little more complicated then they could've ever expected.
Word Count: 4471
Pairings: Fred Weasley x OC
Warnings: A bit explicit towards the ened :)
A/N: I’m writing this story on my wattpad account, so if you like it and want early updates then I suggest you go read it over there!
MY MAIN MASTERLIST
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Fred and Scarlett barely got to see each other again over the next few days. What with Bill's leaving dinner and the general bustling of the house. Scarlett had found herself becoming wrapped up in the feel of constantly being surrounded by others. She spent most of her time with Ginny and Hermione, performing chores for Mrs Weasley that ranged from repotting a collection of hydrangeas to cleaning out the third closet of the house, and hopefully turning it into a habitable space for someone to move into.
It's almost as though Scarlett had no time at all to even reflect on the moment she had shared with Fred on the first day. The only time her brain seemed to fizz back to that moment that was of grass and sunlight, was in the early hours of the morning. When Hermione and Ginny had no doubt already passed out, leaving Scarlett awake with only the moon to comfort her wandering mind.
The next time Scarlett became truly aware of Fred's presence, was during a gossip session with Ginny and Hermione over the dirty dishes from lunch.
"Scar, have you heard from Cormac at all?" Ginny had asked as the moved a stack of clean plates into their respective cupboard.
"Uh, no." Scarlett glanced up at Ginny, unable to conceal her slight shock at having heard his name being brought up in conversation.
"Just wondering."
"How long has it been anyway?" Hermione asked from her left, "Since you two..."
"Um, probably 4 or 5 months." Cormac had been somewhat of an old flame, perhaps not a flame, more of a spark. He had been a temporary distraction during the Triwizard Tournament, given that the rest of Scar's friends were usually busy with training or rehearsal. But as it turns out, the infatuation was exactly balanced, and Cormac McLaggen can turn rather bitter when he doesn't get what he wants.
"I remember when you two showed up at the Yule Ball together." Ginny snickered and Scarlett audibly groaned.
"Don't remind me...God, what a mess that was."
"Wait what happened?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"You don't know?" Ginny giggled, raising her brows. Hermione simply shrugged.
"Oh, no that's right, you were busy the whole night with Victor and Ron." Unbeknownst to Ginny, Scarlett saw Hermione flush an aggressive shade of red. "Well, Cormac asked Scar to come along to the Yule Ball and everything seemed fine and then, well..."
"The whole night he just picked a fight with me." Scarlett sighed. "He spent the whole time telling me that I should be enjoying myself more - and then he wouldn't shut up about the whole sacred twenty-eight, or whatever it is."
"You should've seen him 'Mione." Ginny clattered another plate onto the stack. "It's insane how much that boy gets away with."
"At least that night was the beginning of the end." Scarlett sighed.
"I think it was always supposed to end, right from when it started, he never treated you very well did he?" Scarlett stayed quiet for a moment, turning the notion over in her head. Was it possible for something to be doomed even before it had begun? Yes, Cormac didn't treat her very nicely, but he seemed no better or worse than any of the other guys she had dated.
"Is that why the twins were so angry that night?" Hermione asked, innocently enough. But even the mere mention of that red-headed boy shuddered Scarlett's heart to a quicker pace.
"Oh yeah!" Ginny seemed to remember something brilliant.
"Wait what? They were angry - I didn't see them that night."
"No, cause you ran off to God-knows-where after Cormac said that thing about your dad." God, she had almost forgotten that: 'I'm doing you a favour Scar, do you know how many guys don't want to go near you after what your father did - they say you're cursed blood. I'm the nice guy here.' She shuddered the memory away.
"What happened?"
"The twins must've found out what Cormac had said, they just went all protective mode y'know." Scarlett allowed an image to conjure in her mind of Fred, stoney faced, gripping Cormac by the shirt and glaring him down. "Speak of the devils. Fred, George - d'you remember what happened with Cormac at the Yule Ball."
Just then the twins had circled around the kitchen archway, dressed in plain cotton tees and dirty trousers, no doubt on their way to practice their beater runs. After spotting the three girls a lazy smile pulled on each of their lips and they circled around to the party. George jumping up onto the kitchen countertop whilst Fred merely leaned against the table, folding his arms over the thin fabric of his shirt.
"With Scar?" George asked. "Course...still don't understand what you saw in him Scar."
"Neither do I." She muttered quietly. "What did you guys do to him?"
"Nothing." Fred smiled coyly, "You know us...we're the nice guys we wouldn't do anything mean."
"Bull-shit," Ginny laughed, throwing the dishtowel over her shoulders, "You took him back to the Gryffindor common room and-"
"Ginny," Fred warned, his eyes flashing a darker more alarming shade of brown. "Enough." Ginny merely eyed her brother as she folded her arms over her chest, a playful glint sparking to life in her eye. Scarlett pretended she didn't notice this strange, intimate moment between siblings and simply began scrubbing at the next plate.
"At least that was Cormac done though," Hermione casually moved the conversation along, "After that he wouldn't go near our group - thank God."
"Wow, I didn't realise my dating escapades were so exhausting for you all." Scarlett mockingly rolled her eyes, plunging the last plate into the soapy bowl.
"Cormac was the only bad one-"
"Wait, 'one', there's been more?" Fred couldn't seem to be able to help to ask. Scarlett merely glanced at him over her shoulder, amused.
"Yes, not that I suppose it's any of your business Weasley." With that, she dried her hands and turned around. "Don't tell me you have a problem, Freddie, it's not as though you're exactly celibate." Fred didn't exactly say anything, but he maintained a playful yet serious glare whilst a muscle in his jaw ticked. And Scarlett noticed for the briefest moment how his eyes flickered down to her exposed shoulder from her tank top, black and purple from the bludger he'd pelted at her a few days ago.
"Oh yes, how is Angelina Fred?" Hermione smiled politely, and Scarlett felt her heart drop - didn't Fred and Angelina end things?
"She hates him." George laughed, giving someone Scarlett to look at other than Fred, "He's not exactly the world's best boyfriend if you hadn't noticed." Fred didn't speak, but Scarlett could feel a pair of eyes on her.
Fred and Angelina, the ultimate off and on again relationship. Now when Scarlett thought back to all those times she had given advice, helped in getting back with her, she couldn't help but feel violently ill. The last she'd heard they'd broken up for good, but this had happened at least three times by now - there was clearly something that always brought them back together. Scarlett shook away the thought, she couldn't dwell on this now.
The conversation lulled to an end and the twins moved out into the garden with their brooms to train. Part of Scarlett wanted to go out and join them but suddenly she couldn't get Angelina out of her head. She was undoubtedly beautiful, dark hair, flawless skin, not only that but she was a brilliant quidditch player, it's rumoured that next year she was going to take over as the new captain.
Fred and Angelina, Angelina and Fred - suddenly things didn't seem so simple anymore.
***
It was early the next morning when Scarlett re-awoke. Too early, the sky was nothing but a pulsating darkness and she could barely make out the snoring forms of Ginny and Hermione next to her.
It was hopeless, she just couldn't sleep. Nowadays it seemed like there were a plethora of topics that were haunting her: from her newfound interest to Fred, to the reminder of Angelina, not to mention that she hadn't heard from her father since she'd arrived and he'd promised to send a note. It seemed like she never got a moments peace, there was always something to be fretting about.
I can't stay here, Scarlett thought to herself as she gently slipped out of the shared bed and out into the silent, lonely hallway. The main thing she wanted right then, was her dad. And it was a regular feeling she had. Sirius just always helped when it came to boy drama, something about his perspective on life helped Scarlett realise that life's short, and you should have fun when you can.
Not sure where to go, Scarlett found herself drifting down the stairs, pausing lightly outside Fred's door. She couldn't hear anything from within, but part of her just wanted to take a peak. He was no doubt collapsed on his bed, completely at peace as soft breaths fluttered from his lips.
Idiot, Scarlett thought. Of course, she can't just peak in on Fred, it's not like anything had happened between them. And maybe nothing would.
She moved past his door, pushing down the feelings that swelled from her gut. Down and down she went, circling down the creaking stairs, not quite bothering when they moaned with her movement, it's not as though anyone would care to find her drifting around the house at 2 am. Eventually, she circled down to the kitchen, where a broad shadow stood by the pallid windows.
It was him, it may have been George but some part knew that it was him. Somehow she knew she would always recognise him from now on. Fred was leaning over the sink, his head hung low and a half-drunk glass of water resting by his fingertips. It seemed as though he were tormented over something as he drummed a rhythm against the countertop.
"Fred?" Scarlett tried to stop her thudding heart as she edged into the kitchen. He turned around smoothly, greeting her with his familiar lopsided grin.
"Lettie." He whispered in a low voice, husky with what sleep he had already scored.
"You should be asleep."
"So should you." He smiled and Scarlett inched further into the room. Fred was now leaning back against the countertop, his arms wide behind him so that she could observe his full wingspan. Scarlett couldn't help but notice the permanent curve of his body, from his shoulders to hips - it was daringly alluring in a strange way.
"I can't, my mind won't let me rest." Scar whispered, fiddling with the edge of her cropped sweater.
"Scarlett." He eventually whispered into the warm, sweating silence. She tried not to visibly shiver at the sound of her full name fluttering from his lips. "Come here." He didn't move from his stance, didn't shift to open his arms to welcome her nor tilt his head. Fred merely stayed perfectly still and commanded her across the room by his voice alone - and of course, she obliged.
Sucking on a tentative breath, Scarlett padded her way around the kitchen to join him near the cabinets. All the while they never broke eye contact, maintaining that same tension that appeared to be delicately balanced between the two. Compared to the day's overwhelming warmth, the kitchen tiles now felt icy under her socks and a slight chill in the air meant she pulled her cropped sweater a little closer around her arms.
"Are you...sad?" He leaned down and murmured softly, his eyes full of nothing but concern.
"I..." Scarlett's first instinct was to lie. God knows she's spent nearly all her life pushing people away and keeping relationships light and fun. To actually open up to someone, well, she can't say she's ever done that before. "I miss my dad." She eventually decided upon saying, and then immediately braced herself for what was to come next.
"I'm sorry to hear that - it's perfectly valid for you to miss him," Fred said softly, leaning over and fiddling with the tip of her sleeve, an old habit of his, and whilst it was exciting for him to be so close, it only reminded her of the times he had done the same action when they were huddled on the couch of the Gryffindor common room, comforting each other about other people. Scarlett didn't quite know what to say next, it's not as though she had ever made it so far before.
"But I love it here y'know."
"Really?" An excited tone rushed through Fred's voice and his eyes seemed to widen slightly.
"Yeah, of course. Being here with all of you..." She trailed off.
"Well, it has to be said that I think we're all a lot happier with you around." Scarlett was glad it was so dark, she was sure her cheeks were flushed by then.
"Thank you," Scarlett whispered, the words barely audible. And then she looked at him, really looked. Moonlight continued to illuminate his features. His shirt was of pale linen, and it was thin enough that she could make out every shape and contour of his perfectly lean body. A breath fluttered in her throat - how she wished to worship every inch of that freckled flesh with her tongue alone.
At some point, Scarlett made the realisation that as she stood examining him, he appeared to be doing the same with her. Two friends, frozen in the moonlight, unable to do anything but long after the other. It was that moment when she watched as his eyes trailed from her exposed throat down to the small inch of skin visible above her waistband, that she realised he was tormented by that same greedy lust.
"Can I ask you something?" Scarlett whispered in a fleeting moment of confidence.
"Depends, is it personal?"
"I think so."
"Hm," He thought for a moment, "Fine but, you owe me a personal question." He eventually smiled down and her, and Scarlett bit her lip tentatively. Now or never.
"What do you want?" Scarlett whispered back, a question that posed a variety of answers. There was the question of what he wanted right now, at this moment. What he wanted for himself in a few weeks. What he would want by the time the summer heat rolls into autumn's clouds and all of them were once again cast away to the halls of Hogwarts.
"I..." But, of course, there was one right answer. One answer that would pull Scarlett apart as though she were nothing but ribbon and rope held together by a string. One answer that would set off a chain of events, that would be entirely catastrophic, and yet entirely addictive. One answer, one word, and Scarlett knew there would be no turning back.
"You. I want you."
Initially, the kiss was clumsy. It seemed as though both parties reached for one another in a raw, fierce haste, as though they were afraid that the other might disappear or change their mind. Lips crashed together as they both gripped onto each other's clothes in a fierce, desperate hold. And then anxiety wore off, and the pure passion of years of longing was finally able to burst forth.
Fred's fingers almost immediately hooked themselves under the fabric of Scarlett's shirt as they had done the day when he had knocked her from her broom. And with time his hasty grips turned into fluttering of fingertips as he delicately traced circular patterns over her secretive and hidden skin. He was so tall that he seemed to grip her ribcage in order to pull him in against his chest, perhaps so that he just might be able to feel her, all of her, flushed against his body.
On the other hand, Scarlett's fingers tousled themselves into the fiery peaks of his hair, tugging and pulling every once in a while, and earing a low grunt or moan to splutter from Fred's lips into her mouth. Then she would trace her fingers down her neck and across his chest, feeling the tautness of his shirt from where it was pulled tight over the bulge of his chest and shoulders. And with every inch that she lowered her hands down his body, lightly brushing across his toned midriff and slim waist, Fred appeared to twitch and shudder in anticipation.
It was only when she suddenly flickered her cool fingers under the hem of his shirt, brushing along the soft skin that sat just above his boxer line, that Fred audibly gasped into her mouth. Pulling back for just a moment, Scarlett looked at him, really looked at him as though for the first time, and saw a deviant yet desperate glower in his eyes. Almost as though he needed her to go further, and yet couldn't shake his boyish need to take control. Scarlett had no doubt that Fred wanted to be the one making her pant and shudder at that moment, and she found herself smiling coyly at the thought that she had somehow ended up with the upper hand.
"What's wrong Weasley?" One finger dipped under his waistband, and though he didn't break the gaze, Fred's frame twitched. "Finally learnt how to shut up for once." Another finger, and as she spoke she inched closer and closer, flushing the rest of her body against his so she could feel in full his hard length pushing against her lower stomach. "I like you like this Weasley...quiet and, obedient."
This seemed to be where Scarlett pushed her dominance a little too far. Those two dirty little words appeared to awaken a darker edge in Fred's eye. Suddenly he was shifting to the side whilst simultaneously finding a grip on her wrists. Unable to turn around, Scarlett now found herself facing the cabinets and pushed up against the countertop, whilst Fred positioned himself behind her, holding her wrist in one hand, and her throat with the other.
"Quiet and obedient?" Fred's voices husked in her ear, low and playful. He tilted his chin in towards the crook of her neck and nuzzled into the sensitive corner of flesh, and soon Scarlett could feel each breath flutter from his lips and brush against her neck. The grip on her wrist kept her right arm low by her side, whilst the other was left to hold onto the arm that was holding onto her neck. She wished she could see the look in his eye, wished she could see the smirk that was no doubt toying across his lips. He had Scarlett Black pinned face-first against the cabinets, of course he was loving it.
"I'll make you a deal Black," Fred muttered, his voice lower than she had ever heard it before, a sweet mingling of lust and sleep. "If you can stay quiet for me then maybe, later, I'll be obedient for you." Fred then moved so that he was once again fully flushed against her and Scarlett couldn't help but gasp as she felt that hard length push against her lower back. "How does that sound, Lettie?" He whispered back into the crook of her neck before he lowered his lips to the exposed flesh that lay there.
Scarlett couldn't help but allow a fluttering of gasps to dance from her lips as Fred began to suck and brush on that sensitive strip of skin. And then the hand that was resting around her throat came to a stop at her chin.
"Quiet, Lettie, you have to be quiet for me." Fred husked, and then he gently tucked one of his fingers into her mouth before he returned to his artwork. At some point, he let go of her right wrist in order to brush some of her hair away from her shoulder so that he may continue peppering an ecstasy of brushes, strokes and kisses along that curve of her body. "Off" he then muttered. And in a stunningly short space of time, both Fred and Scarlett had managed to rip the moth-bitten sweater over her head to reveal the plain white tank she had thrown on earlier.
Almost as though the small break had never occurred, Fred settled back into his position of one hand stroking away the hair on her neck and the other now tucking two fingers into Scarlett's mouth. And then he was inching the strap of her tank top down her shoulder, the fabric leaving a trail of goosebumps as it shuddered to the side. And there, waiting for Fred's lips, was the flowering bruise he had inflicted upon her only a few days ago.
"I hate this." He murmured as he began to worship the bruised flesh. "I hate that I hurt you." He continued to kiss and kiss, barely lifting his lips as he spoke. "I hate how good you look when you're bruised." The fingers in Scarlett's mouth flexed for just a moment. "I hate what it does to me, seeing you walk around, with my mark on your skin. I hate how proud I am, how possessive I get." His fingers left the strap of her shirt and now fluttered down to the bare skin above her waistband, and he slowly began tracing that same circular pattern on the exposed flesh that lay there. "If only you knew, Lettie, the terrible things you make me think."
Scarlett wanted to speak, but the fingers in her mouth prevented any coherent sentence. Instead, she merely wrapped her lips around the base of the fingers, taking them all the way to the back of her throat. As she did so, some spit dribbled out of her mouth and down her chin, and she couldn't help but shift into his chest in her ache for the fingers to be something else entirely.
"I'm supposed to be good Lettie," One finger dipped below her waistband as Fred appeared to mirror what she had done to him only minutes before. "I am good Lettie, I promise." Another finger under her waistband and the two managed to find the lacy edge of Scarlett's underwear. "You just...change things for me. I can't think clearly when you're around. Do you know how frustrating that is?"
Slowly, Fred pulled his fingers exaggeratedly out of Scarlett's mouth, and she was able to twist around and look at him over her shoulder just in time for her to see Fred smirk lazily at her before putting those same two fingers on his own tongue and sucking till his cheeks hollowed.
"I never knew." Scarlett found herself whispering, knowing that her mouth was no doubt covered in a gloss of her own spit. She was referring to a lot of things then - she had never known this side of Fred, this seemingly dark and unexplored person that must've always been there. She'd never known that after all these stupid, wasted years, Fred had at some point returned her longing feelings. Scarlett had never known that Fred could be so...but what could she expect, she herself had seen each girl lazily drift in and out of Fred's life, exchanging for someone new before Scarlett even had enough time to remember their names. Of course, he knew how to love, how to push her buttons so precisely.
"How long has this been here?" Fred responded in a moment of sobriety, and Scarlett was able to fully turn and once more found herself inches away from that beautiful, marked face.
"A long time," Scarlett whispered. It was a discovery she herself had only made the other day, that heavy air between Fred and her. It wasn't quite love, rather a potential for it.
"Too long." Fred agreed, and a familiar boyish grin flickered over his features, and at that moment Scarlett understood how the dark-minded boy in front of her was still entirely the Fred she had always known. They were the same person, and this just seemed to flare her infatuation.
Suddenly, a series of loud thuds erupted from above them, somewhere in the upper levels of the home. It must've only been someone tripping on their way to the bathroom but it was enough for Fred and Scarlett to jump away from one another. In that moment of sobriety, as the noise passed into still silence, the two realised what they'd just done a series of things became perfectly clear.
One, neither Fred nor Scarlett appeared to want anyone else to figure out about this infatuation. Two, both of them appeared slightly hurt that the other was feeling such a way. Three, it was done. They were well past the point of change, they had chosen a path and there was no turning back. And standing there in that cold kitchen, where the moon was the only way to see one another, they both understood that what was to happen was to happen, and there was nothing they could do about it.
"We should probably..."
"Yeah-" Fred sighed, but his boyish smirk returned. As he spoke he stretched an arm behind his head to scratch as his neck, and as he did so he displayed the full extent of his swollen arms, barely bound by his white linen shirt.
Reaching down to pick up her sweater, Scarlett proceeded to pad her way to the door, unable to think of anything but what could've happened here in this kitchen had that singular distraction not occurred. It was almost as though every step towards the door was torture, as though every fibre of her being was screaming at her to turn around and rip him apart. To take him to the very peak of ecstasy of pleasure, and ride the rest of the night on the high of knowing that she could bring him to such a feeling. And yet she continued to walk away, and with every step she felt Fred's eyes on her, watching her leave.
"Goodnight, Fred." She couldn't help but whisper over her shoulder as she stood in the lip between hallway and door. The purgatory between sin and pain.
"Goodnight, Scarlett." He said, making no move from his place on the kitchen tiles. And with that Scarlett found herself creaking back up the endless stairs of the Weasley Bungalow, retreating back to the safe space she shared with Ginny and Hermione, and the promise of purity and chastity that came with it.
Tonight was not the night. But even she knew as she rose higher and higher, that 'the night' was now inevitable. There would be nothing to stop this collision, all she could do now was watch, and hope no one got hurt along the way.
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thebadchoicemachine · 4 years ago
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PROMPT: I turned around to get some jam as my toast was ready, only to find when I turned back it was gone. I live alone and don’t have pets. @everblue22
[Recording Begins]
So, I just start talking into this thing? Okay. Oh! I see it writing everything down here, that is... HEY! Awesome! It even knows WHEN to capitalize! PORCUPINE! Okay, okay, I’m done messing around. What? I just think it’s neat! Uh... okay, here it goes. Huh, where do I even start? I guess just with whatever I want? 
Well, I want to say I could tell you I found my fridge, but I can’t. It’s gone. I don’t know where and I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna tell Jan. Maybe I should just not tell him. No, I have to, he’s gonna find out sooner or later. Why though? He checks in every now and then of course but why should I even care? Am I scared or something? I think so.
Yes. 
Jan the... leviathan, Jan fear lord, Jan the landlord. Jan, my landlord. He owns my house. (I have a house, right? I must... where else would I keep my fridge that I don’t have? Or... is it an apartment?) Anyway, Jan in charge of my home where my fridge has disappeared, possibly down some... some semi-indescribable thing. Something that my landlord with definitely notice. Ugh, that’s a conversation I am not looking forward to. I’m not sure how mad he’s going to be able to be, though. 
I mean, yeah, the fridge is gone and there’s The Trench pit-stairs-thing there now, but none of that is my fault! I’m usually a very good tenant; I’ve always paid my rent on time, I never have parties, everything is entirely as intact as when I first moved in, sometimes more so! Well, except for the fridge that is... 
I’m sorry, you probably don’t understand this. Let me start over. I’m a- I’m a... hmm, I- you know, I can’t remember. I had a... job at some point, didn’t I? Yes. I never got fired or anything, I would remember something like that. Probably. Anyway, I have a job where I usually am when I’m not home. 
I’m not quite sure what I did but we had ridiculously short lunch breaks. That combined with the fact everything nearby was expensive as balls meant I ended up skipping lunch a lot. I also had to be there early so forgot about breakfast most days too. By the time dinner came around I was too exhausted to cook anything big, plus groceries were expensive, so I’d just microwave a tin, force down a few bites, and go to bed. Some days I don’t think I stepped foot in the kitchen at all. Yeah... turns out those are all really bad habits to be in, especially at once. 
It kind of clicked one day while I was driving to work and feeling miserable that it is not normal to feel that way all the time. I thought down a checklist of reasons I might feel like crap (water, sleep, breathing, etc.) and nearly crashed when I got to food. I had a quiet “oh” moment realizing I hadn’t eaten that day. I also couldn’t remember if I’d eaten yesterday or the day before that. I knew I had eaten, just not when or how often or how much. Yeah. That was pretty crap. 
That night I sat down and decided I wanted to exist again and to do that I had to start eating again, regularly. I at least needed to get something in my body every day. Breakfast was still hard and dinner still felt complicated so I settled for focusing on lunch, starting small and all that. That way was I was trapped, at home I could just do something else but at work? There was nothing to do but work or eat and I was hoping the time limit would help me force down some food even if I didn’t feel like eating. 
I- oh damn, I’ve been rambling this whole time, haven’t I? I’ll skip to the important part, I made a lot of sandwiches. I’ve never cared for peanut butter, I didn’t hate it but I wouldn’t be able to eat it so continuously. In fact, I couldn’t stomach many things over and over again for too long. Stimulation is very important to me, I need routine but can’t stand stagnation. (That’s probably another reason I was so miserable.) Because of this, I opted to get an array of spreads and switch between toasted and plain slices of bread. t worked out pretty well, after a while wasn’t even an inconvenience to make and eat food at home. 
Now, here’s where my troubles really started. One day, I didn’t have work, I was making some toast. I think it was breakfast which was rare for me but again I didn’t have work. I had set the bread in the toaster and turned to pick out a jam from my fridge (which at this point was still there) but when I turned around the toaster was empty! I know I heard the sound of it popping up but there was no toast, there wasn’t even bread. 
I feel a little silly to admit this but I actually checked around to make sure the toast hadn’t been flung out of the toaster. Then I searched my whole home for some kind of animal. I don’t have any pets but the idea of one breaking in seemed a semi-plausible explanation. In some ways I guess I was right on the money. 
Obviously, I was perplexed by this disappearing act but I shrugged it off and made some more toast. I stayed watching the toaster the whole time and everything worked normally. That is until I turned to get the jam and found it wasn’t there. Expect, then it was. I know that makes no sense but that’s simply what happened. I just ate my toast with butter at that point. A few days later the same thing happened again, beat for beat, only this time the disappearing never stopped. My bread would keep disappearing if I turned my back on it even for a split second, at least, that’s what I thought.
At some point, I realized it had nothing to do with me watching. Bread would disappear right before my eyes and never come back unless I had a thing of jam out. If I had jam out then the jam would disappear for a moment and repaper. I got in the habit of leaving out a certain jar whenever I cooked. At first, that was it. That’s probably all it would have been, just another odd habit to add to my routine, if it weren’t for the fact I noticed the jar was beginning to empty. I could have just let it be, written it off as me forgetting I used it, and moved on, except it was grape. I despise grape flavored things, the only reason I had that one was it came in a pack with the rest of the flavors. I had not and would never use the grape jam.
That was too weird for me. I became curious. I don’t know how I jumped to the conclusion something was eating the jam, the disappearing could have been a million other things, but that’s what I immediately assumed. Since it didn’t matter if I was watching or not I decided a camera wouldn’t affect too much and set up my phone to record it. If it failed, I would have a video of me making toast. If it succeed... well, I’m here, aren’t I? 
I went through the process just fine, setting out the now half-empty decoy jam right in view of the camera. It happened like normal, normal as it was for me anyway. The jam disappeared for a second then returned right where it was. I calmly ate my snack, not wanting to do anything hastily lest I became suspicious, before casually reaching out to check my phone. The video was not as helpful as I liked. Even slowing it down and running it through some filters I couldn’t notice too much except for some faint, invisible, shape only there for a split second. That sounds impressive but already knew something was stealing my jam, I wanted to know what. 
The rest happened almost entirely by accident. I got up in the middle of the night, barely remember it, just stumbled to the kitchen for water. It took me a few minutes to notice I was hearing something and not dreaming. It was a soft, tinkly, pattering sound. Like a dog’s paws scrambling across a floor made of glass. Still half-dreaming, I opened up my phone to fumble for a flashlight. This, of course, blinded me as looking at your phone when used to the dark is never a good idea and I had mine on full brightness for some forsaken reason. I yelped, grabbing my eyes. The sound stopped. 
I opened my eyes, blinking away blind spots, or trying. Some just wouldn’t leave. It took me far too long to realize that they weren’t blind spots, they were creatures right in front of my face. I wish I could blame it on sleep but honestly, I think I’m just stupid. 
Anyway, these things were borderline indescribable at first but as my eyes readjusted to the dark I could understand them quite clearly, visually, anyway. They had bodies like... well, you know when you stare at the sun too long and you get that dark/light green-ish/blue-ish blob in your vision? They had bodies like an inverted form of that. Their forms were inside a bubble, as in a soapy blowing bubble sheen wrapped around their serpentine bodies. They sat hunched on their back legs. they’d clearly been scrabbling against the door of the fridge with their little paws but now sat frozen, staring at me with dopey faces. 
I, for some reason, did not freeze in return. Instead, I just stared at them, holding out my hand like I was giving treats. Two of them cowered while one tilted its head. Its head shape was odd, when I saw it from the side it appeared to have a snout but when it looked directly at me it just seemed perfectly round. It had what I could only assume was two reflective oblong eyes in the center of its face. They were the color of a blank tv screen and remained exactly where they were like a Hawk’s head in flight. The only reason I could tell its head was tilted at all was two (Three? One?) smoky wisps flowing down its top. We stared at each other for a moment until I tried to gently take a step forward and all three dived under my fridge. 
I was shocked, of course, but not for the reasons you’d think. More because they left than because they were there. I handled the situation fantastically all things considered but I wanted more. I couldn’t just them go like that! So, I did the only thing I could think of. I made some toast and jam. 
It didn’t work. 
I felt defeated, dejected, and sad. Mournful, even. I couldn’t help but feel like I’d missed something incredible. This is the part that was really on accident, I began tapping the glass jam jar. The tinkling little noise was the only sound throughout the entire bitch black of the night. I don’t know how long I sat tapping, maybe a few minutes, maybe an hour, but at some point, I noticed there was an echo. Then, of course, I realized it wasn’t an echo at all! It was the glass sounds the creatures made. I whipped around and saw- well, to be perfectly honest I saw nothing. Not at first. 
Then, under the fridge, I noticed some darkness was... different. It was flatter, shinier, there were two oblong blanks in the shade under the fridge. Eyes. My heart leaped and I desperately kept tapping the jar, holding it out for the creature to see. I assume it worked as in a millisecond the jar was gone from my hand and on the floor, opened, then closed again. I opened the fridge and got out all the jam jars I had, lining them around the fridge like some kind of summoning circle. It took hours, maybe even minutes, for them to come out again. They were just as fast as always, I didn’t see them and I barely saw the jars move. 
Now, I know this is going to sound stupid. It probably was a stupid idea but I was getting desperate, this whole thing was beginning to dishearten me. I raked over everything that had happened trying to figure out what let me see them and... listen, I did the only thing that made sense, at least at the time. I flashed my phone’s flashlight into my eyes a couple of times. It’s not that bad, okay! Stupid? Maybe, but it worked! I saw them! 
Oh, they were beautiful. There was more of them this time, completely crowding the space around my fridge. I could see them so clearly. I noticed they had six limbs, rabbit-like hind legs with two sets of arms. The way they used them to open the jars reminded me of a raccoon. The wisps on their heads were like antenna, varying from four to two on each one’s head and flowing down past their bodies like tails. The size seemed to vary drastically based on each one. Their bodies’ still impossible and gorgeous.
They paid me no mind, swiftly swiping snack after snack from the jars lighting fast. I feel like the night should have been well over by this point but it was still dark and quiet. I couldn’t even hear the wind outside, although, it’s not like I was trying. My focus was on these creatures. These beings with their gorgeous bodies and musical tinkling calls... I couldn’t look away. Soon, looking wasn’t enough. 
I wasn’t so enthralled as to try and touch one, not yet. No, I only grabbed a jar and opened it, holding it in my hand. It took a moment but it worked. One of the little guys came up to eat out of it. As it got close my senses, except sight, went all fizzy. Yes, I mean fizzy and not fuzzy. It wasn’t dull, quite the opposite, like eating pop rocks. I felt like I’d just been submerged in and inhaled some physical form of static. You’d think that would be unpleasant and let me tell you it was... wasn’t. No, of course not. I- I didn’t dislike it. I didn’t dislike a single moment of it. It- it was- it was all so... euphoric. All of it...
All of it. 
Um, what- oh! Oh yes, the fridge. Well... I- I’m not sure I can tell you what happened. One minute I was having the time of my life laughing, petting, and playing with all of my radiant little friends... oh, they’re just lovely. I haven’t named any of them yet because I can’t really tell them apart and I’m pretty sure they change form. Ugh, I just love them so much. Yes, I do! Yes, I do, my dizzy little... 
What? Hello? What was I... oh yeah, the fridge. So, I love these guys. So... just SO damn much.  Am I  tearing up? Ha! A funny thing about these guys is that static thing I was talking about earlier. Yeah. It’s constant but it usually very faint unless they’re right up close, then it just absolutely drowns you. I was hugging and petting them so I was completely lost in the static. It was fantastic but I don’t really remember much. I don’t even know how long I was there just that I was suddenly cut off. An- um... a car had driven by. I- I think that’s what happened at least, I don’t know. Something must have happened because suddenly they all dove back beneath the fridge. 
Oh, I can’t describe the emptiness I was left with. It was so dreadful it- I... oh, I can’t. I can’t. I was desperate. It was only for a moment but I was so desperate, I- I lost my mind! I must’ve! I don’t know how what happened next could have happened. I ripped my refrigerator off the wall. I’ve heard of people getting super strength in life-or-death situations for loved ones, maybe it was something like that. Whatever the reason I had the whole refrigerator tossed clean to the other side of the room. What did I even have to show for it? Nothing. It was just a dusty area where the wall met the floor and some outlet things were placed. 
I couldn’t stand for it. I know the precocious little beings had come from and gone somewhere. I was going to find it. I needed to find it. I reached out my hand so hard and fast I’m certain I would’ve snapped my wrist if the floor hadn’t given way. No, that’s not quite it. It didn’t “give way” it- 
Whoah! This thing can do those “line things?” That’s “dope.” How can “it” even tell- wait, no, I’m not going to get off track again. The floor didn’t break or crumble into a trench that was beneath it, nor did I punch a giant hole into the floor. I do not believe it even existed before I touched it but I also don’t believe I created it at all. 
I fell... ugh, how do I put this... I fell into it and out of it simultaneously. I can’t be any more clear than that, sorry. I was falling (Phasing?) down and up at the same time and then I landed on my kitchen floor. I- oh, yes, I know I said the fridge wasn’t my fault. It’s not. I have no idea where it is. If I did I could just put it back- well, I guess not because there’s the giant trench where it plugs in now, but I could have someone else do it! Actually... maybe it fell in somehow? I don’t know. I really don’t... 
About the pit itself, it’s really more like a ravine. I couldn’t see the bottom but not because it was dark, because of the opposite! It has this soft yellow glow at its bottom, or as far down as I could see anyway. The sides look like rocks, some gradient of turquoise and bismuth. It’s pretty thin, only about a meter across, but stretches out for an unreasonable length into the wall. I don’t know how, it looks like one of those optical illusions people paint onto the sides of buildings that make it seem like there’s a tunnel even though you can clearly see it’s a wall. It wasn’t an illusion though, oh no. I threw several things against my wall, or what used to be my wall, and they flew right past where it should have hit and down into the trench. Lost a lot of spoons... When I walked around to my bedroom (the room on the other side of the wall) there was nothing. It was completely normal, you’d never think there was some hole with impossible dimensions cutting through on the other side. 
Well... that’s all I have to say I guess. After a while, the sun came up and I marched over to the first place that looked like it could help. You... you can help, yes? I really don’t want to deal with Jan. Ugh, I’m gonna have to call him, aren’t I? Oh, I hate having to deal with bull like this. So you can... close... no no no, I don’t want you to CLOSE the hole. That’s where- it’s so nice and pretty. I just want... wait, why DID I come here? I don’t... no. NO. I do NOT want you to undo anything that has happened! I don’t care what I said when I came in here, nothing needs to change. I won’t let anything change. 
What’s what? What do you mean? Oh, I’m just getting out some jam. Yeah, I took all the jam with me. Well, all the ones that didn’t fall in anyway. Yes, I’m absolutely certain. You cannot quote-unquote “fix” anything. You know what? I won’t even let you onto my home. You’re too insistent. That pit... I- I don’t much about it but I know it’s where the creatures came from and I one hundred percent can’t risk losing my little friends here. Yes, here. Right here. Of course, they’re here! You just can’t see them. I can’t either, not right now at least. Oh, it’s no big deal, they just follow me everywhere. Calm down. Not much I could do about it and if I could why would I even want to? You have my statement, I’ll be on my way now. 
I said... I’ll be... on my way...
No. You can’t touch them, they don’t like you. No. NO! Get away from them! I WON’T LET Y- 
[Recording End] 
--- 
[Recording Begins]
Follow up: 
All digital follow up has been redacted. 
The reason is listed as confidential, however, that is only a routine precaution. There will be no reprimand for any violations. It is not recommended you try, though.
Anyone who has attempted to review digital information about this case has reported suffering migraines and difficulty recalling the information to the point of uselessness. Several attempts were made to make physical copies but the pages printed out incomplete or blank. Attempts at writing it by hand proved to have even more disastrous strain on the mind. With no idea how to prevent this, or how dangerous it could become, we were forced to simply stop the work. 
As for evidence that IS accessible, besides this recording, we have a few polaroids of the so called “Trench” as well as the attempts to un-digitalize the information. Within all attempts any personal information is absent. We have no name, no age, no phone number, no address, nothing. We DID manage to track down this “Jan” that was spoken of. 
Jan Preswer is indeed a landlord but had no information we weren’t already able to salvage from the records. In fact, he didn’t have a lot of information in general. He was rather standoffish on the matter in a way we later realized stemmed from fear. When we pressed he eventually relented and gave us access to an apartment he claimed was “dangerous to think about” which is where we were able to take the pictures. There was nothing in the place that could identify the speaker. There was nothing there at all, not even interior walls, except the hole. It was exactly as described except smaller, only about a fourth a meter wide.  When we returned the next day it was completely gone.
Because we have no real way to continue investing and because the issue seems to have resolved itself we are placing this entire case on hold. All we can do is wait and watch. I, personally, recommend keeping a close eye on the amount of stolen jam and bread. 
Wherever this person went they seem to have taken all of the creatures with them. We have had no reports or sightings of any kind despite the panic from having them in the buidling. 
They honestly didn’t seem so bad... the creatures, I mean. The way they were described they sounded... docile. Curious. Friendly, even. Granted, this is clearly not what anyone would call a “reliable source” but they must be coming from somewhere and this IS one of our most tame cases, possibly ever. They must be interesting to observe, at the very least. I wish I was able to see one of them if only to understand for a moment. 
Maybe I should start setting out some jam, haha. 
That... was a joke. Record it here, that was a joke. Don’t try that. It would be incredibly irresponsible to attempt to recreate a situation described in a statement no matter the possible discoveries, personal feelings, or… general lure… of the...
What… what was I doing? Uh… yeah this- this case is closed unless something else comes up. That’s not how I’m supposed to sign these things off but I’m… can’t… huh.
You know, I’m really hungry. That’s probably it. Goodness, I can’t remember that last time I ate. Gonna go get some… toast or something…
[Recording End]
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kalendraashtar · 5 years ago
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Thoughts on S05E01
Missed my recaps? Don’t answer that. This first episode is making my head spin hard and fast with thoughts, so let’s roll! If you wish to stay solely in “the greenest of grass” towards this episode, consider ignoring the following musings, because I’m bringing my lawn mower.
- Look, I might have to give back my OL fandom badge (I’ll be, however, taking my fanfic with me), but I didn’t really enjoy the leading up or the wedding itself. Most of it felt forced and soapy, and let me tell you why - the show didn’t bother to establish these relationships enough last season to make those moments meaningful. Jamie and Bree’s relationship was so strained by the end of S4 and the healing never really took place on camera, so the scenes between them felt unearned and gratuitous. His “wee girl” never really became his girl, did she? SHOW👏🏻DON’T👏🏻TELL can’t be ignored sometimes.
- Claire’s hairdo for the wedding is the worst, while her wigs are fluffy and beautiful for the rest of the episode. I get it, it’s classic wedding family album disaster, but yikes. Bree’s dress is incredible, and I don’t really watch this show for prime historical accuracy anyway, so yay!
- The throwback to JC’s S1 wedding vows seemed lazy and too much fan bad service to me. It’s like IN YOUR FACE FANDOM, while Sam and Cait don’t really need that visual aid, because they sell the memories with their faces alone. 
- Fersali remain the cutest to ever cute. I mean, Lauren Lyle has the kind of spark I wish Sophie had at times. 
- They are really going for a Roger’s Extreme Makeover The Ridge Edition, but I’m Arya Starking all over it and assuring you the fandom remembers. Jamie is our collective opinion when he reminds Claire that Roger doubted his love himself, which might as well be one of his lesser sins. I’ll serve it on a pie, if need be.
- THAT MONTAGE OF EVIL. I cannot stress enough how much it didn’t work for me. The song playing over it and the editing took away any meaning for the three couples. It was cartoonish and bizarre. “Here kids, take some fine pointers on the art of sexing on your wedding night from your parents and could-be-grandparents”, OH MY GOD NO. I fell on my back about just as hard as the Bear Grylls of Carolina next to LJG.
- Lizzie, your weirdness and vagina-teeth are showing.😂 After the Montage of Doom, I’m starting to warm up to impending twins-hochmagandy. 
- Look, I’m about as surprised as you are as I write these words, but the Regulators storyline and Fiery Cross were probably my favourite parts of the episode. And the unspoken kilt scene between Jamie and Claire my highlight of the hour; they felt so complicit, so connected, hard as diamonds. Everything I missed in them for the majority of S4. A BIG, BIG, YAY.
- I can see the ways in which they tried to bring back the feel of Season 1. Some of it worked - more humour and lightness, Scottish traditions and vibe, slower pacing. But the cinematography just isn’t as stunning as it used to be back then, the camera work, the image colours, the shots. I appreciate the effort put into bringing the writing quality up and hope to see more of that throughout the season. There’s still work to be done.
Did I love this episode? No, I didn’t. It was the kind of meal that keeps me from starving, I don’t wince when I chew every bite (EXCEPT FOR THE SEX TO END ALL SEX IN A BAD WAY), but I wouldn’t want to see it on my table for my last supper. 
Did it make me more hopeful for good things this season? Yes, for a good part of it. JC and the fantastic acting of Sam and Cait still have me believing.
Here’s to hoping!!
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beetlebop · 5 years ago
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if you're open for hc requests, how about beej with an s/o thats pretty strong and bad at controlling their strength? like someone that constantly presses down too had and breaks their pencils, accidentally slams every door, breaks dishes while washing them, squeezes too tight when giving a hug, etc.
ofc i am and im laughing bc ive actually done some stuff similar to this before i.e. breaking pens, shower heads, the water temp dial for our bathtub, etc so i gotchu 👌👌
you’ve had this insane strength for as long as you could remember. you’ve broken so many miscellaneous things it’s not even funny. you’ve probably gone through enough pencils to save up for a house.
it’s something you’ve become increasingly frustrated with. extremely frustrated.
once you had gotten so worked up you accidentally broke a door off it’s hinges. you never did get your despot back in that apartment.
because of your infamous strength people around your area tended to avoid you like the plague which sucks bc all you wanted was someone who would understand you.
eventually you kept to yourself to keep people safe from something you always considered a curse even when you moved from place to place. it was easier that way.
well that was before you met lydia and her family / extended family
you ended up moving quite near the deetz / maitlands house and much to your chagrin delia and charles practically bombarded you to come over even though you were sorely against it, for obvious reasons.
they end up wearing you down though and you ended up joining them for dinner one night. surprisingly enough you got on with lydia quite well and became fast friends despite the age gap you had between the two of you.
you end up offering help them to do dishes trying with all of your might not to break their obvious expensive plates and you about cry when you accidentally break a few in the soapy water cutting your hands in the process
delia tells lydia to take you to the bathroom upstairs to get you cleaned up and you end up apologizing the entire time lydia drags you away.
you’re sure that you messed everything up and ruined your chance with having any friends at all but lydia assures you that delia hated those dishes anyways so it was a blessing in disguise.
you appreciate the sentiment but you’re too upset to take it to heart and after you are patched up you burst past lydia intending to leave as soon as possible without doing anymore damage.
well that was before your already tense hands make contact with the banister and RIP IT CLEAN OFF
you end up just standing there staring at the massive piece of wood in your hand tears threatening to spill over as you hear everyone rush to where you were.
you’re shaking and wanting so badly to disappear as you realize all eyes are on you.
they know they k n o w and they probably think you’re a freak and some kind of monster. god you don’t have the money to replace this and shit you’re crying even harder now.
that is until you hear laughing from behind you.
you turn on your heels one of the most furious expressions you could muster towards the source of the laughter and you almost fall down the stairs when you see what looks like a dirty green corpse and two ghosts standing there alongside lydia.
the dirty corpse grins at you clearly amused “wow, babes, that sure was something! never seen a breather cause so much destruction so fast!”
you promptly faint on the spot.
the next thing you know you’re waking up on the deetz couch and lydia’s there and explains everything to you.
it’s a bit hard to comprehend at first and you just want to go home so you do.
beetlejuice after your little incident bugs lydia constantly to get you to come back
lydia outright refuses at first since your first reaction wasn’t exactly positive.
eventually though it’s you who makes the reconnection. hey what can you say? you’re super lonely.
beetlejuice latches onto you instantly and constantly bombards you with questions which you ignore most of the time.
eventually though he too grows on you and you hang out almost as constantly as you and lydia do. and by hang out i mean he gives you things to break for him each time it getting progressively more outrageous.
once when you care over he had eveloped you in a hug. you’re unsure why but you return it a bit too hard and oops beej’s spine is broken in two.
you start apologizing and he just starts laughing that stupid grin, that he had when you first met, on his face.
“it’s fine, babes, i’m already dead!” while causally snapping himself back into place like it was nothing.
another time you had reached out to stop him from leaving and accidentally tore his suit jacket to pieces and he just turned to you with the most shit eating grin imaginable and goes “gee, babes, if you wanted me naked all you had to do was ask”
you slapped him for that. his head fell clean off.
you’re not sorry.
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soft-stormcloud · 5 years ago
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Falling in Love [Royality]
They met outside of a dress shop.
Roman and his friends were passing it when Patton came out, arms full of shopping bags. He was a little flushed, barely noticing them as he started past.
And, of course, Roman had to ask, “Those for a girlfriend?”
Patton had stopped, looking back nervously. He knew he could lie, he knew he should tell the truth; He didn’t say anything.
Roman smiled as his friends rolled their eyes behind him. He shoved his hands in his pockets, his breath fogging against the cold. “They’re for you?” Patton nodded shakily. “Cool. I’m Roman. Want to get a hot chocolate?”
It was like this a lot, and Logan and Virgil never minded. Roman fell easily, and they liked watching it. So when Patton nervously asked about his friends, Virgil had laughed and said he planned on ditching him anyway.
Roman smiled as Patton whined over his burnt tongue in the café. He was so cute, golden hair sticking out in tufts under a white beanie, face still red from the cold. They spent a while talking and laughing, much after they’d finished their drinks, and made plans for lunch later than week. That night, Roman flopped back on the couch, groaning with his head in Logan’s lap, and giddily recalled every moment.
For their lunch date, Patton wore one of the dresses he’d bought- A white one, with black polka dots. He was practically shaking with nervousness as they walked into the restaurant, but Roman slipped his hand into Patton’s and grinned. Patton’s face flushed bright red.
They talked for a while; They talked about Patton’s brothers, and how he hadn’t visited his family in a while and he missed them; About Roman trying to turn his writing into a career, and he worked at a Barnes & Noble for now to keep things together; About their first boyfriends, and a few of Patton’s girlfriends; About Patton being gender fluid and that for him it meant he felt like a boy almost all the time but he still loved conventionally feminine clothes; About how handsome Roman looked; About No, Patton, you’re prettier.
They talked as long as they could, but eventually Roman had to go back to work.
Patton had groaned and complained, “I don’t want to wait another few days to talk to you! Can I have your phone number?”
What had started out as a text every half hour during work quickly turned into four every minute; Over a week, they evolved into phone calls on speaker because they couldn’t stop talking to clean or make food; Over a month, they sent regular videos and Roman spent half his time at Patton’s apartment.
One night, Roman wanted to spend a night in, so he invited Patton over to his apartment for dinner and a few movies. Roman had made a home-cooked meal that Patton adored, gushing over him the entire time, and they cleaned the kitchen together. Patton got soapy water everywhere and Roman kept slipping. Afterwards, they moved to the living room, where Patton begged for them to watch a horror movie Patton hadn’t gotten the chance to watch yet. Roman had been nervous, but agreed. He was never good with horror movies, but Patton had looked so excited.
Patton grinned proudly and made grabby hands until Roman settled on the couch next to him. As the movie played on, Roman got progressively nervous, until he was pressed right against Patton’s side. Patton cooed over him, kissing over his face and hugging him.
Roman ended up with his face pressed into Patton’s neck, giggling every time Patton kissed his head. When the movie was over, Roman peeked his head up and blinked around, disorientated. Patton couldn’t help but grin.
“Roman?” He mumbled, resting his hands on the sides of his neck. “Is it alright if I kiss you?”
Roman’s face had turned bright red, smiling uncontrollably. He nodded happily, and Patton leaned in, pressing their lips together softly. Roman let out a little whine and pulled Patton closer. Patton spent the night, Roman too afraid from the movie to be left alone, and they slept happily cuddled together.
When Roman woke up to the sun sneaking through the windows, Patton tucked against his chest and dressed in one of Roman’s shirts, Roman’s chest filled with glowing happiness.
The next weekend, Roman felt like he would explode if he didn’t dispose of some of his festering emotions- Both good and bad -so he threw a party. He invited Virgil, Logan, and Patton, told them he could invite whoever they wanted, and invited some of his artist and theatre friends. Patton was the first to show up, dressed in a pastel blue flare skirt and a pretty black sweater. He insisted on helping set up the party, and greeted Virgil and Logan when they later arrived with giddy happiness, bouncing on his toes and offering both of them hugs. He squealed in delight when Virgil accepted, tucking his head to his shoulder.
People began arriving fairly quickly; This wasn’t the first of Roman’s parties and people always tended to have fun. For the most part, Virgil and Logan would stick together, while Roman flitted around the room like an excitable butterfly, but Patton managed to keep them all together without anyone getting bored or uncomfortable.
Logan rolled his eyes as Roman set up the karaoke machine, a bunch of people cheering and rushing to get their place. Roman started them off, of course, but instead of flaunting in his usual spotlight for his newest boyfriend, he offered a duet, to which Patton happily agreed. Sometimes Patton was off pitch and Roman did tend to project just a bit too loud, but they were smiling the entire time and they occasionally blended flawlessly.
Logan, Virgil, Patton, and a few others stayed behind after to help clean up, and when Patton stepped out to take out the trash, Virgil and Logan immediately jumped on Roman. They gushed and gushed over how much they loved Patton; Logan pointed out precise actions, words, and characteristics that he found ideal; Virgil rambled and talked himself into corners, constantly using the word “perfect.” By the time they stopped, Patton was back, standing there with a huge smile and tears in his eyes.
Virgil flushed crimson and Logan stuttered a bunch, but Patton just rushed forward and planted a kiss on Roman’s lips. They laughed, and went back to cleaning.
It was a month later, in the thick of January, when they started leaving notes around. Roman had been having a rough day; He’d bombed an audition, run into a massive case of writer’s block, got an awful review on a short story he’d posted, and everything he tried to create turned out like crap. Patton came over, worried when Roman ignored all of his texts, to find him hunched over his laptop, on the verge of a panic attack.
Patton made him something to eat and dragged him practically kicking and screaming away from the laptop to cuddle and nap. Patton woke him up after an hour and had him tell Patton about his day, what was wrong, and how could he help? Patton stuck around for a little bit longer after Roman went back to work, in case he started to get overwhelmed again, but inevitably went home. Roman was about to make dinner when he found the note stuck to the fridge.
Hello, my prince! You better be about to make something to eat! I know today was hard but you’re still the bravest, smartest, most creative person I know and I love you! If you come over tomorrow, we can take a day off and watch movies and stuff. Please don’t work too late! Get some sleep!
<3 Patton
The next day, after hours of Disney movies and cookies, Roman went to hug Patton, only to stuff a note in his back pocket. Patton yelped, squeaking out, “Hey!” Roman had chuckled and kissed him softly, and Patton melted into it.
Patton texted Roman a few hours later,
Oh, I see! It’s on! >:D <3
From then on, notes were scattered everywhere. They sometimes found notes weeks old, but every time they got huge, giddy smiles and didn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day.
On Valentine’s Day, Patton woke up before Roman and slipped out of bed to sneak down to his car and retrieve Roman’s present. He hid it in the kitchen and got back into bed. Later, when Roman was fixing his hair and getting ready for their date, Patton presented the flower crown. It was made of deep, rich red roses. Roman lit up when he saw it; He changed his whole outfit to coordinate with it.
They spent all day out; Roman took him to the park to feed the birds, to lunch at a quiet restaurant, to an outdoor concert where they picked dandelions, and back to the park to stargaze with a picnic they packed together. Patton introduced Roman to everyone they talked to as his prince.
Patton slowly became more and more a part of the group. He lasted as Roman’s longest relationship and longer. He was able to give Logan attention on subjects the other two didn’t understand or weren’t interested in, and could comfort Virgil with anxieties the others couldn’t relate to. He made them all ridiculously happy, and he loved them just as much.
Roman fell easily; Logan and Virgil were both aware of this, and adored him for it. There was nothing sweeter than watching Roman fall in love.
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thecatwhogrins · 5 years ago
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Peacetime part 5 (WWII AU)
5 days later
Shirayuki paced the medical tent, anxious to the bone.
This morning, although she did not understand everything, she had heard that a spy had been caught in the German Camp. Soldiers were restless, feeding her anxiety, until she thought she might start screaming. She tried her best to concentrate on her work but despite all of her efforts, her mind kept going back to Obi. The doctor was even more cross with her than usual, almost throwing in his towel several times.
Shirayuki was miserable.
When her shift ended, she wiped her brow and tried to devise a plan to make sure Obi hadn’t been caught. The problem layed in the fact that she didn’t know where to find him. After their last encounter, he had vanished, without giving her any means to communicate with him. Her only way to figure it out would be to go snoop around and listen to conversations while trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. A very hard feat since everyone in the camp knew her and despised her. Her red hair was also hard to miss.
Shirayuki grabbed a basin full of dirty water and marched out of the tent, determination sustaining her. She advanced towards a gaggle of nurses and pretended to wash the basin. The nurses glared at her, as per usual, but she didn’t mind. Instead, she strained her ears to grasp any information she could with her rudimentary German. Most of the conversation was useless, mostly complaints about the weather, and the men, etc. Shirayuki was about to give up when Obi’s name stopped her in her tracks.
“I knew that man was suspicious as soon as he turned up here!” one nurse said.
“Yes, he has a very dangerous look about him, he sent shivers down my spine,” another said.
Shirayuki inched closer, clutching the soaping wash basin.
“Well, he is truly dashing in a certain way,” the last one said, giggling. The other nurses laughed, but there was an undercurrent to their mirth.
“He’s caught now, anyway. Good riddance,” the first one spat.
Shirayuki almost dropped the basin, splashing her clothes with soapy water.
The other nurses stopped talking and stared at her disdainfully.
“Are you a spy too?” asked the first nurse venomously.
Shirayuki couldn’t answer, she simply shook her head and turned away, fear gripping her heart like a claw. What could she do? What were the next steps to take in order to help him? She felt nauseous.
Her resolve took over and she tried to draw up a plan.
*
Obi was gasping for air, bound to a chair, one eye swollen shut and the other struggling to stay open. He coughed, his throat felt like it was full of gravel and damn, he’d give anything for some water. He was in one of the commanding officer’s tents that had been hastily transformed into an interrogation area. A sole lamp hung from above, barely illuminating the tent and one table stood on his right with a bloody rag. Probably from their last endeavor to break him.
He knew he should have been more careful, seen the danger coming, but he had been so close to his goal, he had slipped up. His regret was too little, too late. This wasn’t his first rodeo, and he had survived worse torture methods, but this time, his hopes of getting out were slim, paper thin.
Obi couldn’t tell what time it was, but judging by the amount of light outside, it was getting late. He tested the strength of the rope binding him. It seemed that whoever had done the handy work had been very careful and had bound him tightly enough that his blood circulation was almost cut off.
Almost.
He gritted his teeth and tried to see if he could loosen things up a little, when suddenly a sound outside of the tent had him freeze up, his good eye wide, pupil dilated and heart pounding out of his chest. He tried to relax his shoulders, closed his eye, pretending to be still be unconscious.
“Obi?” a soft voice whispered.
Shirayuki.
He hoped she wouldn’t try to help him. He opened his eye and observed her small trembling form, her eyes full of fear but also determination. He yearned to hold her in his arms, even now, in this abject situation.
“What are you doing? If you get caught…” Obi whispered quickly, fearing for his friend.
“We have to get out of here, Obi,” Shirayuki murmured fervently. She looked almost exactly the same as the night she had pulled him out of the stormy night and into the tent, bringing him back to life, exhausted but so strong. The look on her face fascinated Obi, for some reason. He wished he could capture her expression in that moment, but she marched towards him and the moment was over.
She pulled out a pair of scissors and cut his bonds as fast as she could. Obi hissed in pain when the blood flow in his wrists resumed. Shirayuki helped him up and he tried his best to not weigh to hard on her shoulders. They limped outside of the tent, in pitch darkness. They both knew that if they were to be caught, they’d be executed on the spot. Shirayuki tried to stifle her heavy breathing, the sound of it in the silence was deafening. Every step was torture, every sound an enemy.
This reminded her of the night she had found him, dragging his half-dead body to the medical tent. She had been stronger then, not as afraid. But she knew that in this moment, Obi needed her, and she’d be there for him.
They finally were almost at the tree line that led into the forest near the encampment. A man stood facing the trees and Shirayuki halted, Obi half-conscious, but wary nonetheless.
The man turned around and it was Doctor Forzeno, he probably was there to relieve himself. He peered at them, eyes squinting against the choking darkness.
“Miss Shirayuki?” he finally asked, curious.
“It’s me, Doctor,” Shirayuki swallowed, her mouth drier than the Saharan desert.
“Who’s with you? Are you…” he didn’t finish his sentence, as he swiftly realized who she was holding up with all her strength.
There was a tense silence as Shirayuki waited for him to alert the whole camp.
But nothing.
“Go,” he whispered.
Shirayuki couldn’t believe it. She feared it might be a trap of some sort. The moonlight lit the doctor’s grim but resolute face.
“Are… are you also a spy?” Shirayuki asked, hesitant.
“No, I am not. But I’ve seen you work these past few days, and I can say without a doubt that you are very gentle and kind. This is not a path I wish to take. I swore an oath to not hurt other people when I became a doctor. This is me keeping that oath,” he whispered hurriedly.
“Now go, before they come!” he helped readjust Obi and made sure no one saw them enter the woods.
Shirayuki didn’t look back.
*
Shirayuki kept walking for what seemed like hours, only stopping when her legs gave out.
Obi fell to the ground next to her, unconscious. Shirayuki gasped and dragged him to a tree to prop him up. She didn’t know what time it was; she didn’t know where they were or how far they were from the camp. She could barely see her own hands, let alone Obi’s prone body. Desperation filled her up like an overflowing cup of water and she felt tears spill over. She muffled her sobs into her fist and tried to think about their next move, but her mind was muddled.
“Shirayuki?” Obi whispered softly, his voice almost overshadowed by the rustling of the wind in the trees.
She couldn’t answer, her voice was too thick with tears. She was shivering from the cold and the adrenaline leaving her body.
“Hey, it’s gonna be okay, I’ve gotten out of worse situations,” she could almost hear that snarky grin.
She sat next to him, unable to see him, fumbling around to finally touch his fingers, interlocking them with hers. His hands were colder than what she was used to and gloveless. She could feel every ridge of each scar he bore. She wished she could memorize them, know them by heart.
“Obi…” Shirayuki’s voice cracked, soft as a bird’s wing.
“Hmm?” his was even softer, exhaustion sapping the remnants of consciousness.
“Kiss me, please,” Shirayuki hoarsely whispered.
Obi was alert at once, thinking he had heard wrong. But he could feel her head turning, the slivers of dappled moonlight illuminating the bridge of her nose, a quarter of her eyes, the crescent of her lips, like a shadow puppet show. It was dark so they fumbled, her lips brushing the corner of his. His hands hovered over the contours of her frame, finding her waist, her arms, her shoulders and the nape of her neck and then they found each other in the smothering darkness. Lips against lips, harsh ragged breaths, fear and hunger fueling their fire and Shirayuki found that she wasn’t as cold anymore. It was a strange sensation, to kiss in the dark, like criminals, like prey. She pressed closer, so much closer, his hand finding her waist again, his lips moving against hers chapped but so were hers, she didn’t care. She only cared about the feeling of his arms around her.
She wanted it to never end.
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