#i got mostly down the stairs so i only missed like four

[h2llish]

i fell down the stairs

[jieunoclock]

Love Your Feeling (JJK) || Chapter two

- Making Mistakes₊˚⊹♡

He looks in my eyes, tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “You look good today” he says. That's it, I kiss him.

Pair: jjk x femOC, college students, best friends

Word count: 6.6k

Warning: this chapter includes explicit scenes⚠️

masterlist || taglist

!Friends to Lovers, Protective Brother, Secret Dating, Friends with Benefits, Angst, Mature content, Dysfunctional Family, Fluff, Smut, Mentions of Alcoholism and Abuse

——————————————————————₊˚⊹♡

It's a perfect warm spring day, perfect for a party. I see the bus coming into my peripheral vision, looking up from my phone. AirPods in my ears, blasting some ransom hype playlist Spotify made for me. I check in and sit down.

Last party I've been to must've been a few weeks ago, so needless to say I'm quite excited for tonight. Need to get my mind off of school for a second. The bus ride feels slow. Arriving at Jia's and Nabi's place, a little before 6.30.

They only live 5 minutes away from campus. Bought their own little apartment when they enrolled here. It's nothing fancy, right outside of the campus area, into an alley. It's mostly 20+ year olds living here since it's so close to school.

They all got to know each other over time. To the left are the residential units. They look like the big Minecraft houses. The two story oak plank houses, with double doors, staircase in the middle and a farm in front of it.

It's basically like that. Big two story house, staircase in the middle of it, leading to two doors. One on the left and one on the the right.

It's basically split in four parts. Jia and Nabi live on the left upper floor. The bottom floor belongs to someone else.

On the right side you have the exact same layout, only mirrored. The person who has the top floor is blessed with an attic, whilst the bottom floor can enjoy a little bit of garden space.

It might look small, but it's actually not. It'll surprise you how spacious it is. There's 3 of these units pasted next to each other, Counting a left and right side of a unit one.

On the right side of the alley there's a convenience store. At the end of the path it curves left around the store, to access either the big road or more units.  Never been there, so I wouldn’t really know.

Jia and Nabi live in unit one. the first one to your right, as you walk through the alley. I go up the stairs, turn my body to the left and ring the doorbell.

Staring at the welcome mat beneath my feet, I hear some rummaging behind the door. At the same time I hear footsteps coming up the stairs, and I look to see who’s approaching me. It’s Minnie.

"HEYY!" I say opening my arms to hug her. "Missed you yesterday you know" I smiled.

"Sorry" she giggles, smile from ear to ear.

We hear a big thud from behind the door, turning our heads to where the sound came from. "Ouch"

I try not to laugh, pressing my lips together and covering them with my hand. Then the door swings open. "FINALLY!" Jia says

"We're on time Gi" I say setting foot in their house.

“EVEN ME!” Minnie says. She does tend to get late.

"Expected you earlier" she says walking past us, running upstairs. Both Minnie and I follow her, to the attic. They've got two bedrooms, a bathroom, living room and a kitchen, on the first floor.

They turned the entire attic into a walk in closet, devided into two parts. One side for Nabi, vanity on the left wall. Other side for Jia, mirroring Nabi's side.

"So.. I was thinking" Jia starts "Black denim, mini skirts" she smiles.

"I hear ya" I say.

She starts frantically looking through her closet. "We need to look hot and sexy, but also casual"

"Gigi it's just a house party" Minnie rolls her eyes, sitting down in her vanity chair.

"Kai's house party" she says "Wrong.. the football teams house party" She answers. Tilting her head back,  dyed platinum blonde hair hanging over the back rest. "Yeah and Kai is gonna be there"

She continues pulling out pieces of clothing from her closet, occasionally moving to Nabi's side to find specific pieces of clothing. Slowly creating 4 different, matching outfits.

"Where's Nabi at?" I wonder. "Oh! She's getting groceries, she's cooking pasta" she answers. Head buried in between the clothes.

There's not really much to do for me. Nabi's in charge of dinner, and Jia's in charge of the outfits.

Outfit one:

Classic black denim mini skirt, has a light wash to it. White crop top on top of it. White socks, and platform converses for foot wear.

Outfit two:

Same classic black denim mini skirt, with the light wash to it. A black crop top. And again the same white sock, and platform converses.

Outfit three:

Black denim mini skirt again, it has a star on the right side of it. Classic black crop top. White socks, black adidas campus shoes.

Outfit four:

Black denim mini skirt, this time it ruffles midway through. Instead of the usual tight fit. White crop top. Again white socks, white new balance 550's. It's certainly matching.

"This one's for Minnie" she says. Grabbing the stacked pieces of clothing in one hand, the shoes in the other.

"Ruffles for you" she smiles, eyes sparkling. Stretching her arms out, handing her the outfit.

"No platform for you two since you're the tallest ones" she once smiles again. Chin down a little. Eyes up, looking at Minnie through her lashes.

It's true, we're not specifically 'tall'. Nabi and Jia are just really short. Had fought about it many times to see who’s taller. Since Nabi and I only have a height difference of two centimeters. The rest doesn’t need discussion, Minnie sticks out compared to the rest of us. And Jia well… you can certainly see she’s the shortest. Shes 153cm, only wears platforms to appear taller. Minnie is right about 167cm. I'm next reaching 160cm.

She walks back to where she's put the different outfits, then we hear the door open. It must be Nabi coming back from the store, she's a really good cook.

There was this time. I couldnt to stay home, for many reasons. Ran to their unit, crying. Phone was smashed, cards left at home. I was unable to pay for the bus, took me a while to get there. They took me in for about 3 weeks, until I decided it was enough. Couldn't keep living under their roof for ever.

Nabi even gave up her room for me, slept in a bed with Jia the entire time. They told me not to worry, and that I'm welcome anytime. Just felt like I was being a burden sometimes, when they had guests of family over.

Needless to say I know what her cooking tastes like, and it never disappoints.

"NABS COME UP HERE, BRING WINE!" Jia yells, from her closet. And not much later, Nabi comes upstairs. Four wine glasses, and a bottle of rosé in her hands.

"Heyy!!" She says to us. Lifting the bottle of wine up in the air, swinging it a little as she smiles. Scurrying over to Jia's vanity, the one Minnie's sitting at again.

She places down the four glasses, and fills them with the rosé.

"Ohh we're matching matching?" She asks. looking up at Jia, giving her, her glass.

"What? How could you tell?" I say laughing within the words. Utterly confused, I mean there's still three outfits lying there.

She turns around, looking at me. "Do you really think she'd give you the platforms? It’s an easy giveaway, you're second tallest" she explains. It’ll always be a petty competition. You’re taller, you do it! Whilst the gap isn’t even that big. Jia shrugs, satisfied smile plastered on her face “What can I say, she knows me” I gotta give her that.

Then Nabi walks over to me, gives me one of the glasses she's holding and sits next to me on the stool. The kind of stools you see in one of those fancy walk in closets, I guess you could call this a fancy walk in closet.

"Sooo.. Minnie" I laugh, leaning over to look at her, past Nabi. "Who's the lucky guy?" I raise my eye brows. She groans, leaning her head back once again.

"You know we'll find out one day, especially with Jia's detective skills" Nabi says.

"Oh please let me know once you do, I'll enjoy the privacy in the mean time" she answers, sipping her wine. Everyone just sighs, clicking their tongues.

"Okay okay, calm down" she says, Signing with her hands to 'sush' us. "He's tall, black hair, broad shoulders, he's got thick lips and is utterly handsome, he's funny, a gentleman and he goes to our school" she says.

"Oh god, do we know him?" I ask. "Stop no this is so exciting!!" Jia exclaims. Minnie just stays quiet, keeps on sipping her wine.

"C'mon, show us a picture" I say, but all she does is just shake his head. "Someday babes, just not today" she laughs.

"Enough about mystery boy, you guys should get changed."

"Here" Jia says, grabbing My outfit. The one with the star on the skirt, and gives it to me.

Walks back to the two outfits that are left. Grabs the one with the black top, and gives it to Nabi. Getting all of us changed, Jia then does our hair and makeup. Doesnt forget to drench herself in glitter spray, shes always so glittery. It suits her personality though.

All of us are already have a hard time getting out the glitter she leaves on us, let alone if we spray ourselves aswell.

Nabi cooks us dinner, chicken pasta. Already drooling at the name of it. Usually with a bunch of garlic, but not today. They're planning on getting it on with their crushes, what worse than to smell like a humanied piece of garlic. It tastes delicious though, even with the lack of garlic.

——————————————————————————

"Alrightyy let's go!" Nabi cheers

We all down the shots infront of us. Shake away the burning sensation in our throats, and walk towards the door. Asses nearly out, but still casual enough for it to not be weird.

I secretly I hope the outfit grabs the attention of a certain someone, won't admit it to them though. Though I wear mini skirts more often, it’s nothing special for me.

We walk over the big of campus. Dark out, all four of our arms intertwined with each other. I can hear the party's music from far, the cheers of people. It makes me feel excited, sounds like tonight will be fun.

Jia is immediately welcomed by many people, won't take her long to find Kai.

I look around the room, filled with people. They've got drinks in their hands, talking to their friends. Some are even dancing.

It doesn't take me long to spot the kitchen. Sometimes I think my kitchens dirty, this takes it to a whole other level. I grab Minnie's hand from behind me, sign to her that I know where the alcohols at.

We walk past Jia and Nabi, who are still saying hi to random people. I place my hands on front of me, on the kitchen counter. Stretched out, leaning on them.

"So, what you want 'm lady?" I ask Minnie.

"I have a strong desire for a vodka sunset ma'am" she replies. Pursing her lips, keeping a formal tone to her voice. "It is my pleasure" I smile, turning around on my heels.

Found the orange juice, in the fridge. and some strawberry syrup next to it, on the counter. Vodka wasn't difficult to find, and so I have all ingredients to make a 'vodka sunset', my specialty.

I see Jia and Nabi walking up to us, automatically assume they'll want sunsets too. Put them in front of them, as they sit down.

“Welcome ladies!” I hear behind me.

The look on Jia's and Nabi's face gives away easily who's standing behind me, so I turn around. Keeping my cool, hear absolutely going insane.

"Hello boys" I say, we all smile. "Craving some sunsets? It's my specialty" I look up at Taehyung standing in front of me. He’s so gorgeous, even up close. As much as you can call it 'in front' though, they're not that close.

They're standing there as if they're in a movie, clearly popular guys. Taehyung, Kai and Jimin. He laughs "Sure" And so I make three more sunsets. I could get addicted to that laugh, feel like I’m gonna fall to my knees just be looking at it.

"Extra sweet for the pretty ones amongst us" I joke. Clearly flirting, as I look up into Taehyungs eyes.

We all say cheers, down our shots.

"Damn, these really are your specialty" he says. Jia and Nabi are clearly eyeing the other two boys.

"So.. you guys party a lot?" Jimin asks. Jia looks down, shes shy. Shes never really 'shy', shes the social butterfly amongst us. Seems like she might really have an eye on Kai, standing next to Jimin.

Nabi had decided to sit down on the bar stool, that's placed beside the kitchen island. Legs crossed, chin leaning on her hand. Batting her eyelashes, as Jimin speaks.

I’m standing closer to the guys, therefore decide to answer his question. "Jia does! Personally not really tho" Turning my head to look at the girls, behind me. Jia looks up. She smiles softly, and raises her hand a little.

"We noticed some.. new followings on insta" I say teasingly. Taehyung laughs a little. He looks down at the floor, his hand reaching for the back of his neck. I swear I’m going insane.

"Aha yeah.. well we noticed some fangirls so"

I try not to laugh at that, smiles obvious on my face. Close my eyes, and shake my head just a little. Before turning my heels, back to the kitchen island.

These men i swear to god.

He’s charming, Taehyung. I’ve heard the stories, girls go feral for him. Talking so casually to him like this, makes me feel as if I have a chance with him. Works me in my delusions, something I’ve dreamed of for months now.

"Another round?" I look around myself, everyone agrees. So I make 7 new sunsets. We talk, we have fun. Nabi started talking to Jimin, finally. And Jia to Kai. Minnie wondered off, probably meeting her boyfriend somewhere.

——————————————————————————

"So why haven't we spoken before" he laughs. "I don't know" i respond, rolling my eyes playfully.

"Maybe because I don't want all of the girls in school to hate me! I don't know our status are just too different I guess" I laugh. It's true. He's a popular school jock, I'm a well.. a normal student.

"Jia is quite popular, could've gotten to us through her for sure" he answers. Sorta is what happened. If it wasn't for Nabi and Jia's fangirling, i wouldnt have sat here.

We're sat on a couch at this point. It's late, don't know what time though. It's still full, it's a Saturday so I don't expect anyone to leave soon.

Taehyung is sat next to me, my legs over his lap. Too far gone to go insane, we're chatting nicely. Some girls walking past have eyed me, but the amounts of alcohol I've had by now makes me not care about that.

With the stress of all the homework and tests I've been having, I feel like I'm allowed to treat myself. "You want another drink?" I say, getting up from the couch.

"Oh no I'm alright" he says. I get up, and walk back to the kitchen again.

Working myself through the crowd of people, there's not too many people though. Stumbling across the room, nearly tripping over my feet multiple times. I manage to get myself to the kitchen counter. "Ugh what do I fancy~"

I lean onto the counter with the palms of my hands, rocking on my feet a little. One of them red, American, cups will do. I scan the messy counter, different kinds of alcohol, different brands, different sodas.

I could kill for a vodka Red Bull actually, doesn't matter that I've probably already had enough alcohol for the day.

Can't even bother to measure my drink out, it's probably gonna taste like shit. And when I take a sip, it confirms my assumptions.. yeah tastes like shit.

I turn around, decide to make my way back to Taehyung.

This is why I hate partying. There's sweaty people crawling the place, and I don't even have to bother with the cleanup. Can't imagine what a real club is like, this is just a normal house party.

I do have to say, it loosened up my conversations with Taehyung. I'm not particularly the shy type, just don't like stepping out to others that much. Especially since Taehyung and I are in such different status levels, it would've been weird if I just randomly started speaking to him. Gosh he'd laugh in my face if I’d done that.

I never expected him to be this nice though, he seems actually interested. Well he shows interest in my private life. Looks at me a certain way that makes my cheeks burn hot. And for what reason? He doesn’t like me. We literally just met. I could definitely see him being my first boyfriend, have been.. I mean can you blame me? He’s complete and total bout-

What..

I stop my tracks, eyes wide. I feel as if I'm somewhere I shouldn't be, as if I just caught someone and should apologize profusely.

In the small amount of time it took me to get my drink and get back, he managed to move onto the next girl.. someone who's a lot easier than me apparently.

Took him too long to get into my pants and figured to just get some easy slut to do the job or something?

There's.. a girl. On his.. lap? Really?

Five minutes, FIVE MINUTES ID BEEN GONE??

God why do I even care, I've known the guy for what. Two hours? Still the short scene, makes my world spin a little.

I chug down the drink I had just gotten, and go back to the kitchen to make another one. More vodka in it than last time, tastes even more disgusting than the first one. Chugging it down, nearly gagging, hanging over the sink.

"YOO BUNNY" there's only one person who calls me that. "Didn't expect you here"

He stands next to me, ass leaning onto the counter. Arms crossed, looking into the crowd.

I look up at him, out of breath as if I just puked my brains out. Eyes pained. "You alright?" Jungkook asks.

"Uhm" I clear my throat. "Yeah no ofcourse" I say whilst shaking my head.

"Why are you here?" Stupid question, anyone can just come in and join. Don't need a special invitation or anything.

"Well, sorry for interrupting Yun. Let's dance, it'll take ur mind off of things" He tends to be be the kind of person that takes your mind off of things, rather than talking about it. If I do need to have a serious talk, he's always there for me.

He grabs my wrist, and drags me to the dance floor. There isn't really a 'dance floor', the living room has just been repurposed as one.

The world spins a tiny bit, just nothing too bad. I don't feel like I'm about to throw up anymore, like I've felt copious amounts of times. I genuinely hate it.

I have my back turned to the sofa, Taehyung and I were sitting at. I didn't check if he was still sitting there, as we walked over. But the way Jungkook shifts his gaze between me and the sofa, has me guessing that he is.

"Gon’ tell me what happened?" He asks

I keep my mouth shut, not wanting to talk about it. "Wanna make him jealous?" He then asks again. I raise my eyebrows. "Jealous?"

He doesn't say anything. He places his hands on my hips, to make me step closer. He then takes my arms, and places them on top of his shoulders behind his neck.

He placed his hands on my hips again. Moves his hips himself, swaying to the music. Guiding my hips with his hands to do the exact same thing, 'swaying to the music'.

The moment, somewhat caught me off guard. The alcohol is getting to my head, and it's making me that that Jungkook is looking a little too good tonight.

It's probably the way my stomach just turned, when I saw Taehyung there. To have someone's attention feels nice. It's dark in the room, music is blasting through my ears. And all I can seem to focus on, is the way he's so in the moment.

He seems so unbothered, faint smile on his face from the drinks he's had. The smallest trail of sweat running down the side of his neck, because of how hot it is in here. Yet he doesn't smell bad, good even.

"Yun!" He says, raising his voice just a little bit. "Huh what?" I say, shaken out of my own thoughts.

"Taehyung, he's watching" he nudges his head a little, to where Taehyung was sitting. Now knowing that Taehyung is watching, I wanted to get revenge.

Taehyung probably wouldn't even care, but atleast it's for my peace of mind. Anyone can tell the droopy, sad, expression on my face. I really just want to leave.

But still I choose to not admit to that just yet, focusing on Jungkook once again. Following his guide, to dancing together.

Though, I feel like my emotions are making him feel sad as well. "You here with someone?" I ask him.

Im done with this party, it's been an emotional roller coaster. I was having fun, and I'm letting some useless boy ruin that.

He shakes his head. "Can I stay at yours?"

I don't want to go home, be put up with Yoongi. He'll see right through me, will investigate who hurt me. Just to run off and hurt them.

On one hand, it's nice to have someone care like that. On the other hand, it hurts me too. I keep being left alone, dealing with myself. And having to take care of mum, with Yoongi ran off.

I'm just not in the mood for it tonight. Plus, I've stayed at Jungkooks house copious amounts of times.

He doesn't seem to have a problem with it. Leading me out of the house. Him up front, hand stuck out behind him to stabilize me a little.

He doesn't live too far. But walking is certainly the longer route. Will take a while.

Jungkook is definitely a better drunk, than me. I can tell by the way he looks, smells and acts, that he's had quite some drinks. Though he's still able to walk properly, act somewhat normal.

Were walking on the sidewalk, I try not to stumble. Focusing on the pavement, watching my feet closely. One foot in front of the other and switch. But it doesn't work, I trip. Face down.

"Ah!" I immediately reach for the stinging sensation on my knee. It's not terrible, nothing I'd usually cry over. That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

"Nayun! Are you okay?" Jungkook immediately rushes over to me. "Ah yeah, my knee just hurts."

I sit down on the ground, as Jungkook kneels beside me

He grazes his fingers over my hurt knee, blows on it. “Just a little scratch, can you walk?” He asks as he helps me up.

I’m on the verge of tears, world crashing down. As if he knows, he crouches down in front of me, signing for me to get in his back. “U sure you can handle my weight” I ask. “Yun. don’t even start, I can handle you perfectly fine” he reassures me.

I get on his back, even though I could’ve just walked myself. The gesture is nice.

Not really in the mood to talk we eventually reach his apartment. He shares it with his friend, Mingyu. He’s nice, only really see him whenever I stay over.

He sets me down on my feet in front of his apartment, and opens the door for me. “Mingyu’s not home, I can take his bed if you want”

Usually we grab 2 separate covers, and sleep in his bed.

I don’t move, don’t know why. My expression feels droopy, empty, hurt. Mustn’t look nice from a third persons perspective. Can’t seem to take my eyes off him. his fluffy hair, that’s wildly distributed because of his dancing. His big hands that are holding the door open. His pretty face that looks at me as he asks.

“Is everything okay?” Answering him feels too difficult, with what’s going on in my head. I’ve never denied the fact that he grew up to be good looking, but to observe him the way I have tonight? Were there shrooms in the pasta or something?

So I don’t answer at all. switch my gaze to look inside of his apartment, and walk in.

“Go sit on the kitchen counter” he tells me, I silently obey his words. Walking to the kitchen and sitting on the empty counter, next to the sink.

He takes a little before he walks over to me, box in his hands. Places it beside me and inspects my knee. I watch him carefully as he takes the disinfection spray, sprays it on my knee. It stings a little but I’ve felt worse.

“Hurts?” He asks looking up at me. I quickly look at me knee, pretending I hadn’t had my eyes glued on him since he started taking care of my knee. Shake me head, because it doesn’t.

He wets a cloth with warm water and dabs in on the skin, before he dries it of plasters it shut with a band aid.

Hips leaning on the counter, hands on both sides of my legs on the counter. He looks in my eyes, tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. I gulp, for some reason.

“You look good today” he says.

Why. Why does he say that? I’m not in the right state of mind to be handling this right now. I’m afraid I'm going to make wrong decisions, decisions I shouldn’t. But he looks so damn good.. so damn good..

My eyes search his face, no expression. I like my lips, clearly some version of nervous. Still somewhere drunk, I cup his cheeks with my hands. Lean in, close my eyes, and kiss him. And he kisses me back, he actually kisses back. He doesn’t move a lot though, but also doesn’t move away.

As if a switch in my mind flipped, I break the kiss. Hands off him. “Omg, I-I’m so sorry” I apologize. Get back on my feet, ready to flee the scene walking past him.

But he catches my wrist, I swing around back to him. Hair flying around me, almost cinematically. And he kisses me again. More forceful this time, pushing my back against the counter again. He brushes a hand through my hair and rests it on my neck. Before placing me on top of it again.

He licks the bottom of my lip, testing the waters. I copy his movements. Tongue exploring my mouth, I let a moan slip. With the amount of alcohol I’ve had today, embarrassing is a stage I’ve far surpassed.

He takes it as a sign. kisses me along my jaw, down my neck. Moving my head to the side to give him easy access. His hands on my waist.

“You look good too I guess” I say. He laughs at that, sending vibrations all through my body.

“Shut up” he says with a slight chuckle in his voice.

“Make me” what in the word possessed me to say that. He’s my best friend, I don’t want this. Expected it to be Taehyung.

He stops what he’s doing, looks me in the eyes. “Sure?” He says. “yes..” I whisper. No, no is what I should’ve said. But it feels too good to stop, feels wrong for it to be him. But feels so good.

As if he doesn’t need telling twice, he connects his lips with mine again. Rougher this time, as if they’ve been wanting it for years. Though it’s just a one time thing. Doesn’t see him like that.

He picks me up from the counter, my legs wrapping around his waist. No idea where he brings me to as my back is turned to the apartment, too busy focusing on his lips.

“Gon make you feel so good” he says between kisses. Until my back hits the back of his bed. Legs still wrapped around his waist.

He takes off his shirt, he’s certainly been working out. Big biceps, soft skin, toned abs. Oh do I love muscles.. “Like the view huh?” He cocks. GOD do I want to roll my eyes at him. But instead I take my shirt off as well. Left in my bra, and skirt.

“Expected someone?” Is the first thing he said at the sight of my bra. “No” I lied. He doesn’t respond. far too occupied kissing my chest now, as my moans occupy the room.

He trails his fingers across my thighs, teasing me. He stops kissing me, looks me in my eyes. Don’t know what to say to him. No words come to mind. Brows furrowed, biting down on my lip.

“What you want bunny” he teases higher up on my inner thighs, should’ve worn safety shorts but decided not to. Wearing a baby pink, lacy thong, that matches my bra.

“Don’t call me that” I say breathily, hate it when he calls me that. Called him bunny once because I thought it was funny, he’d call me bunny too. Mine stuck, his didn’t. He knows I hate it.

“What?.. Bunny?” As he says that, he presses down on my clit. Receiving a soft moan from me. “Seems like you like it” he smirks. Hate that smirk.

He dares to shoot even lower, finger at my entrance. He circles around, not wanting to put them in yet.

I want to speak up, talk back. Tell him to shut his mouth. “I-ah, fuck” failed miserably. Just as I want to tell him off, he dips one finger in.

“Fuck, you’re so wet bunny” that stupid name again. My hand shoots up to his bicep, holding onto it for dear life. “More” he’s not even really doing anything, yet I want his big hands to stretch me out further.

He obliges, adding another finger.

“How bad do you want it bun” he asks, pumping his fingers in and out painfully slow.

“Shut up” I hiss. Though u have to admit, I clench around his fingers as he calls me that.

“Tell me” he says again and still his fingers completely. “Finger me Koo” I look at him, doe eyed. I can feel him fucking twitch against my leg as I say that. He looks at me for a few seconds, completely still “Koo?” He breathes in heavily, leaving a groan as he releases his breath.

He crashes his lips against mine, moving his fingers again. He's certainly skilled to say the least. two fingers moving in and out of me again, curling inside of me, hitting the exact right places. Thumb on my clit circling around it.

My mouth falters open, unable to kiss him back. The back of my head burying deep in the mattress. Eyes shut. Fuck it feels good.

He kisses down my collarbone. If he continues like this I'm actually going to come soon.

"Fuck, Koo" I moan loudly, he can feel my walls clench around his fingers. He stops kissing me. "Look at me when you cum" He says, well.. more like demands. "Look who's making you feel like this yun" I absolutely try my best to look at him, eyes faltering shut before opening them again. "That's it" He praises, That's what it does for me. My orgasm hitting me hard, as I try my absolute best to look at him. Tears nearly peeping through.

Both our heads snap at his door, before we look at each other shocked. "I thought you said Mingyu wasn't home" I say as he quickly pulls his fingers out of me, feeling empty inside. "He told me he was staying at his girlfriends house" quickly closing his bedroom door as the front door opens.

We both find our discarded shirts on the ground putting them back on. I run to his mirror checking if I look presentable. we both stay completely silent, holding our breath afraid to make a single sound.

We can hear Mingyu walk past the door, to his own bedroom slamming his door shut. both letting out a breath we've been holding for far too long.

Jungkook leans his head back against the door. I can see the disappointment in his face. the walls are thin, heard Mingyu in action one time.

I feel disappointed, bad for him. Poor dude getting blue balled. I'm afraid to admit I was kind of looking forward to returning the favour to him.

Who says we still can't?

I walk over to him, as quiet as I can. As soon as I approach him I trail my finger across his abdomen, placing kisses on his shoulder and collarbone.

"Bun? what ar-" I cut him off, shushing him wish a kiss to his mouth. "Just stay quiet" I whisper against his ear. my hands at his waist band, unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans. dropping down to my knees.

to be honest I have no idea what I'm doing. mimicking things I've seen, and read. Pulling his jeans down a little, placing a kiss on his clothed cock. I can feel he's still rock hard. I can hear his breath hitch as I place a kiss on it.

Not wanting to waste too much time, I pull his boxers down too. nearly jump scaring me as he springs free. I need a moment to register what I'm seeing, I've always seen dicks as something pretty ugly. But having him in front of me like this, makes me think otherwise. He's big. Bigger than I thought existed in real life. But nothing abnormal. "Stop staring" He whispers. I meet his eyes. shaking me out of my thoughts. There's no way in hell I can take all of him.

I place my hands at his base, Notice he's struggling not to moan at my touch. Place a kiss on the side of his cock, licking a long stripe across the vein that goes from the base to his tip. placing a kiss on it as I reach the end. swiping my tongue across his slit, tasting his precum. And take him in my mouth.

I can tell he's struggling to keep quiet, his hand finding it's way into my hair. I try to take as much of him as I can, without trying to gag on him. bobbing my head up and down, moving my hands wherever I cant reach.

Never would I have thought, giving a blowjob can be arousing for the one whose giving it as well. noticing I'm rubbing my thighs together as if I didn't just orgasm around the same fingers that are in my hair right now.

he pushes my head down a little, making me moan softly against him making him groan in response. I look at him through my lashes, eyes meeting his as he was already looking at me.

I squish his balls lightly, sending him over the edge. he pushes my head down hard, tears peeking through the corner of my eyes. he comes down my throat. soft humming coming from above me as he tries his best to stay quiet. warm liquid trickling down my throat as I swallow all of it.

sucking him empty and letting go with a plop. He wipes the corner of my mouth, as I smile at him proudly. "Good girl" he says, making me clench on absolutely nothing.

He puts himself back in his boxers, putting his jeans back on as well as I get back to my feet. He nudges his head to his door that he's still leaning against.

"U can take a shower if you want to. take a tee of mine" I nod at him, swinging around to his dresser stealing one of his shirts. running off to the bathroom.

Been to his house so many times is normal for me to be here.

I walk back to his room after my shower, hair blow dried, big shirt of Jungkook's. he switches places with me and disappears into the bathroom.

suddenly it all feels empty again, quiet. events of this evening reoccurring in my head. Jungkook seemed to take my mind of Taehyung for a little. but now that, that moment is over, it all comes flushing back.

I feel so stupid to think I had an actual chance with him.

I make my way to Jungkook's bed, curling up under his covers. Too empty to even open my phone to see my missed messages. Or to look at TikTok to pass the time.

Time passes so slowly, staring right in front of me. No thoughts running through my mind, but at the same time so many.

Jungkook makes his way back into his room. I didn’t even notice until he was in squatting next to me. tucking a piece of hair behind my ear as I'm laid on my side. I look at him, only my eyes moving to find his.

"you sure you're alright?" I don't want to answer him, feel embarrassed about what happened. I feel so naïve.

"Lets pretend nothing happened okay?" I tell him. He nods. a simple "okay" leaving his mouth.

he walks over to the other side of his bed. back facing me, my back facing him. I feel like I shouldn't leave him in the dark on what happened.

"had a crush on Taehyung" I admit to him, feel like I'm admitting it to myself as I tell him. "Was talking with him at the party for like 2 hours.." he stays silent, not sure if he's listening or maybe already sleeping. "left for a drink, saw another girl on his lap when I came back"

"I felt so naïve, to think he'd like me back. but he just wanted to get in my pants. was devastated when I saw them, felt like I was gonna throw up" I tell him "Oh yeah and then I fell." I add.

He's completely silent. no clue if he's even awake, maybe he's wearing headphones. maybe he fell asleep, I don't know.

"Koo?" I say softly. I get a soft "yeah?" back, almost like a whisper.

"Wasn’t sure if you were listening" I say. there's so much room between us. I left to his house to feel comfortable, to not be alone. knew my brother would be a pain in the arse at home. and if he wouldn't, than mum would be. I feel.. empty, even tough my night was so full.

After everything that happened with Jungkook tonight, how is my mind still with Taehyung? "Koo?.." I say again. "yeah?.." Somehow I’m nervous for what I'm about to ask him, afraid he’ll reject me. Part of me knows he wouldn't. Part of me knows it isn't usually weird. Just after what happened today I'm unsure.

"Can we cuddle?" I ask quietly, Almost embarrassed.

He doesn't reply, all he does I move. Move closer to me in his bed. And as I look over I see him holding his arm up. Open for me to join him. Not a single moment in my mind that doubts rolling over to him.

He wraps me up in his arms as I hug his waist tightly, not wanting to let go of someone else at the moment. So desperately in need of physical touch, is sad.

A tear falls down from my face. too much going on at the moment. too much for me to handle. I know he can feel me sob in his embrace, I know his shirt is getting salty wet because of my tears. he doesn't mention it. caresses my hair and suits circles on my back. even places a kiss on my forehead.

"Back to normal tomorrow m'kay?" He whispers, hearing the vibrations from his chest through my cheeks, are soothing. secretly wishing they could last forever.

I nod, and fall asleep quite vastly.

prev | drabble | next

[sunnyie-eve]

4 | Flickering

Series: Unexpected

Paring: (Matt Sturniolo x OFC Brock!) (Chris Sturniolo x OFC Brock!)

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: none

| MASTERLIST |

~

"I think it's that way." Nick points as Sam and Colby forgot how to get to Samantha's painting.

"I think it's that way." Chris point in a different direction.

"Where is Samantha?" Colby thinks.

"Definitely that way." Dani agrees with Nick.

"You agree?" Chris asks here.

"It's that way." Matt agrees too holding all the balls for Samantha.

"I would actually bet $100, it's that way." Nick tells Chris as Colby jokes about an alone invitation to which Nick says no to.

"He's not that confident." Dani laughs at him.

"I'm very confident right there to the left." Matt says pointing into the direction.

Sam ends up asking who was the smartest out of the tree and Chris says Matt wasn't then says he's dumbest so the other two agree with him, "I wasn't gonna say it but if you're gonna say it." Nick nods his head.

"Okay, three of us know where to go, so Matt, please." Dani tells him and he leads the way.

"Cause we came out that elevator and went all the way around through here." Matt recalls to the group, mostly Sam and Colby.

"Just trust us Colby." Dani rubs his back as they walk side by side.

"I think Samantha would've liked Rupaul's Drag Race if she got old enough." Nick says stopping by the painting.

"If not she'd miss out on some iconic queens."

"See, one of the reasons we're best friends." Nick says so Dani wraps her arms around him smiling as Colby pulls candy out of Sam's backpack.

"We want Samantha to follow us for the rest of the night." Colby tells them, "She's a nice ghost." He adds, "I'm gonna lur-," Colby and Chris start to laugh realizing how it sounds. "This was a better idea on paper."

"Guys, don't cancel us please." Sam turns the camera to himself, "She's a ghost that's 120 years old. It's not creepy."

"She's technically 124, not four." Matt adds.

"Little kids literally see ghost, I'm convinced." Chris speaks up, "Little kids and dogs."

Dani sees the look on Matt's face making her laugh a bit, "Dude, Matt you okay?" She snaps him back.

"I guess," He puts on a smile.

Colby talks out the rumor that Samantha might also be Ruth so Chris makes joke about Ruth being Samantha's green counterpart before they all take a piece of candy to put at the painting for her to follow them.

Going back down to where Samantha passed, Matt and Dani both see the light flickering. Colby says that's what Samantha is known for and they point out it's only the one by the stairs.

"So what happened when she died is she was chasing after a ball and that made her tumble and break her neck." Sam tells the brothers, "So,"

"Yeah, and you are fuckin makin fun of her." Colby tells them as Chris's jaw hags open hearing what happened to her.

"I feel bad now. Sorry Samantha." Chris apologizes.

''Samantha, if you can hear us there's two flashlights here at the top of the staircase." Sam lets her know.

"You can go up to either one of them it doesn't matter." Dani adds so a flashlight comes on.

"The ghosts like Matt and Dani the most." Chris says as the flashlights go off while they talk and ask questions.

"If it's multiple do you wanna shut the red flashlight off?" Nick asks the ghosts and the red one turns off for them, "Oh my god. That was crazy."

"Wow." Matt stares at the flashlight.

"Samantha, did you come down here with us?" Dani asks so the blue flashlight turns on.

"I can't believe how lucky you guys are tonight." Chris looks at Matt and Dani.

"Samantha are you happy we brought you some balls?" Sam asks her making Colby chuckle which makes Matt and Chris laugh too.

The flashlight turns on, "She likes balls." Colby stats making Matt keep laughing as he looked at him.

"If we were to toss these down the stairs. Will you show yourself?" Sam asks making Dani look at him.

"Sam, you wanna add another to your list?"

"I-, Dani, I can't relive my bad past with little girl spirits." He shakes his head at the thought.

"He had a little girl stuck in his ass one time." Colby sums it up for the three making them laugh at Sam.

They break out the SLS camera to see if they could capture Samantha on camera but she never shows up for them.

Matt asks her a few questions and both flashlights turn on at the same time since she didn't know which one she wanted to pick.

They leave the stairs and head to Carlota's room next, "Does it have a different scent in here?" Colby asks as they enter the mezzanine, "Smells like grandma."

"It does give off that scent." Dani agrees.

"We have to rizz Carlota." Colby tells the boys while Dani just stands around looking at all the mirrors in the dark, "She's in here with all her vortex mirrors. That are nine million dollars."

"You should steal at least one." Chris tells him.

"Hey there Carlota, there's five single men here. Expect one is off limits." Matt tells her

"Yes." Nick nods his head, "Yeah." Everyone laughs at him, "I got nothin for ya." He adds.

"But he makes a great friend. Especially to rant to." Dani rests her head on his shoulder.

"And we have Dani here as well if you need a girl friend as well." Nick puts an arm around her giving her a side hug.

"Saw a picture of you, you're pretty hot." Colby tells her.

"Oh, straight to it." Chris laughs.

"I feel like that won't work on her. She's way too classy for that. She's an Empress." Dani tells her brother.

The boys try to think of back then rizz so they just say she's really pretty because they couldn't think of anything.

"I hate that I can see my own reflection like forty times." Chris stands in front of his mirror and the others agree with him that it's scary.

"Empress Car-lota,"

Dani laughs at Colby, "You fucked her named up dude." Nick then says it correctly for Colby.

"I'm sorry," Colby apologizes, "Empress Carlota," He says right this time making Nick and Dani quietly laugh so hard they hold on to each other, "My beautiful maiden. Please come into this room and talk to us. We would love to get to know you.

"Alright, I'm up guys." Chris says, "Empress Carlota, we'd love to have some conversation with you tonight. We got some fine handsome, handsome, gentleman. We're ready to rizz you up."

Dani places her hand over her mouth to stop her from laughing at him, "That was terrible." She giggles to herself while Nick tells him to be serious.

"Hey Empress Carlota. If you wanna talk to us tonight we're ready to communicate." Nick says on his turn.

"Hey Empress Carlota, if you wanna come out here and talk to us. Feel free to do it. And if you're not even Empress Carlota, and you're in this room, come on in."  Matt speaks up.

After Sam goes they get the EMF rope out that basically does the same thing as a regular EMF but covers a longer area.

"Why are these on Sam, over here?" Colby asks as some of the lights were already lit up.

"Ugh, that shouldn't be." He goes to move the string but it stays lit up.

"So they're all supposed to be pink right now?" Nick asks them.

"They're supposed to be this color, yeah." Colby tells him.

Sam goes on about how there might just be some electrical wiring under the floor right there so the pick up the rope to move it to the side.

[anonymousewrites]

A Study of the Heart and Brain (Book 3) Chapter Four

Father Figure! Sherlock Holmes x Teen! Reader

Chapter Four: Memorable November

Summary: Sherlock gets around to investigating Mycroft's problem and begins to bond with John and (Y/N) again.

            (Y/N) yawned as they walked inside the living room to find Sherlock and an old woman and man sitting across from him. One glance and several identifying characteristics told them that the couple were Sherlock’s parents.

            “He’s always losing things down the sofa, aren’t you, dear?” said Mrs. Holmes to her husband.

            “ ‘Fraid so,” said Mr. Holmes.

            “Keys, small changes, sweets. Especially his glasses,” continued Mrs. Holmes. “Blooming things. I said, ‘Why don’t you get a chain—wear ‘em round your neck?’ And he says, ‘What, like Larry Grayson?’ ”

            The floorboards creaked under (Y/N)’s feet as they reached the bottom of the stairs, and the two Holmes parents turned to face them.

            “Oh, is this them, Sherlock?” said Mrs. Holmes, smiling brightly. “Hello, dearie. We’ve been looking forward to meeting you!”

            “Hi,” said (Y/N), raising a hand awkwardly. “I’m (Y/N).”

            “Hello,” said Mr. Holmes, smiling. “How are you?”

            “I’m fine,” said (Y/N), quickly hurrying past to get to the tea and biscuits for breakfast.

            “They seem nice, Sherlock. I do hope you’re treating them well,” said Mrs. Holmes. “I know that parenting you and Mycroft a—Well, it was hard.” She laughed. “You two were always challenging each other.”

            “So, did you eventually find the lottery ticket?” said Sherlock, prompting his mother to continue her story and sparing (Y/N) more questions while they adjusted to the new people in the house. (And he was avoiding more comments from Mrs. Holmes to him about the whole parenting situation).

            “Well, yes, thank goodness,” said Mrs. Holmes. “We caught the coach on time after all. We managed to see, er, St. Paul’s, the Tower…but they weren’t letting anyone into Parliament. Some big debate going on.”

            (Y/N) cocked their head as they took a sip of tea. Interesting.

            The door of 221B opened, and John walked in.

            “John!” said Sherlock in relief, knowing his parents would focus on John instead (or hoping).

            “Sorry—You two are busy,” said John, taking a step back.

            “No, they were just leaving,” said Sherlock, having had enough of risking embarrassment from his parents (the typical child).

            “Oh, were we?” said Mrs. Holmes, unimpressed with her son.

            “No, no, if you two have got a case—and I’m glad you’re working together again—I’ll just go,” said John.

            “No, not a case,” said Sherlock, urging his parents towards the door. “Go. Bye.”

            (Y/N) waved goodbye more politely (which was mostly because they liked Mr. and Mrs. Holmes. They seemed to be nice and calm).

            “Yeah, well, we’re here till Saturday, and I want to properly meet (Y/N),” said Mrs. Holmes. She didn’t want to miss her first grandkid (and likely only ever since her sons were her sons).

            “Yes, great, wonderful. Just get out,” said Sherlock.

            “Well, give us a ring. (Y/N), lovely to see you,” said Mrs. Holmes, and Mr. Holmes nodded.

            Sherlock pushed them into the corridor and closed the door with a sigh. He looked at John and (Y/N). “Sorry about that. Embarrassing affair.”

            “Clients?” said John.

            “Those were his parents,” said (Y/N).

            “In town for a few days,” said Sherlock.

            John stared at him. “Your parents?”

            “Everyone has them,” said (Y/N). Unfortunately.

            “Well, that is not what I…” John trailed off.

            “What?” asked Sherlock.

            “I mean, they’re just so…” John didn’t want to offend his friend.

            “Ordinary,” said Sherlock.

            “Wel, uh, yeah,” said John.

            Sherlock sighed. “It’s a cross I have to bear.”

            “You shaved,” said (Y/N), cocking their head. “Your mustache is gone.”

            “Hm?” said John. He couched. “Right. Wasn’t working for me.”

            “I’m glad,” said Sherlock. “I prefer my doctors cleanshaven.”

            John ignored that and looked at (Y/N). “How are you feeling?”

            “Singed,” said (Y/N).

            “Do we know who took you or why?” asked John in concern.

            “No,” said (Y/N).

            “Were they trying to get to you through (Y/N)? Is it to do with that terrorist thing you mentioned to me?” asked John.

            “We don’t know. We can’t see the pattern. It’s too nebulous,” said Sherlock. He stood and walked to the wall of clues and information he’d gathered so far. “Why would an agent give his life to tell us something incredibly insignificant? That’s what’s strange,” he murmured.

            “Give his life?” said John.

            “According to Mycroft,” said (Y/N). So it could be exaggerated, or it could be a lie. Or he could not know it’s a lie, or it could be something else. They knew there were too many possibilities at the moment. “There’s an underground network planning an attack on London. That’s all we know.”

            Sherlock gestured to his web. “These are my rats, John.”

            “Rats?” asked John. He had not missed being so confused all the time.

            “Markers—agents, low-lifes, people who find themselves arrested or their diplomatic immunity suddenly rescinded. If one of them starts acting suspicious, we can tell something’s happening,” said (Y/N).

            “Five of them are behaving perfectly normally,” said Sherlock. He picked up a new piece of paper. “But from my own network, the sixth…He’s not.” He showed the note and picture.

            “I know him, don’t it?” said John as Sherlock pinned it up.

            “Lord Moran, peer of the realm, Minister of Overseas. He’s been working for North Korea since 1996,” said Sherlock.

            “Yes—Wait, what?” said John, startled at the last tidbit of information.

            “He’s the Big Rat. Rat Number One. And he’s just done something very suspicious indeed,” said Sherlock. He opened the computer and pressed play on security footage.

            It was of the underground at Westminster. The train was stationary with doors open. Moriarty stood alone on the platform. He stepped onto the train, and it took off. The perspective switched to the James Park Station and showed the same train arriving. However, when the doors opened, it was clear no one was inside.

            “Yeah, that’s...odd,” said John.

            (Y/N) opened up a map of the underground and tilted their head in consideration. “According to this and the others I checked, there’s no place to get off.” They looked up. “We’re missing something.”

            Sherlock nodded and ran his hands through his hair. “And it’s staring me in the face!”

            “Any idea who they are, this underground network?” asked John. “Intelligence must have a list of the obvious ones.”

            Sherlock’s phone beeped, and he glanced at it. “Our rat’s just come out of his den.” He perked up. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes! I’ve been an idiot! An underground network!”

            (Y/N) perked up. “Oh! Mycroft’s information wasn’t nebulous. It was specific, and that’s why the agent lost his life.” They had gotten it, too.

            John looked between them, bewildered as usual. At least that was back to normal. “What?”

            “Sometimes a deception is so audacious, so outrageous that you can’t see it even when it’s staring you in the face!” said Sherlock excitedly.

            (Y/N) replayed the security footage and brightened. “Seven carriages. Six.”

            “Wait, what?” said John in confusion.

            “Seven carriages leave Westminster. Six arrive at James Park,” said (Y/N). They glanced up at Sherlock.

            His heart warmed as (Y/N) looked at him. They wanted his approval. He didn’t think they needed it, but it meant they were opening up a little more. Sherlock nodded, and (Y/N) squared their shoulders at the acknowledgement of their discovery. The father and child bond was repairing itself, even if smaller.

            “But that’s impossible,” said John, staring.

            “Moran didn’t disappear, a whole compartment did,” said (Y/N). “It was detached and diverted from the rest of the train.”

            “Detached it where?” asked John. “You said there wasn’t anything between those stations.”

            “Not on the maps, but once you eliminate all the other factors, the only thing remaining must be the truth,” said Sherlock. “The carriage vanished, so it must be somewhere.”

            “But why, though? Why detach it in the first place?” wondered John.

            “Vanishes between Westminster and James Park Station,” said (Y/N), recapping as they considered.

            “You’re kidnapped and nearly burned to death at a fireworks party—” Sherlock paused.

            “November fifth,” said (Y/N), straightening as they arrived at the same idea.

            “My god,” gasped John.

            “Lord Moran, he’s a peer of the realm,” said Sherlock, his mind moving through the facts. “Normally, he’d sit in the House. Tonight there’s an all-night sitting in to vote on the new anti-terrorism bill.”

            “But he won’t be there. Not tonight,” said (Y/N).

            “Remember remember,” said John, beginning the famous rhyme.

            “The fifth of November,” said (Y/N).

            “Gunpowder and treason plot,” said Sherlock.

            “Call the man who got you the underground maps,” said (Y/N), jumping up to grab more maps.

            Sherlock opened Skype and called the man. He wasted no time in demanding more information about the line between Westminster and James Park. Unfortunately, the man still believed he’d given him everything he knew.

            “There’s nothing down there, Mr. Holmes, I told you,” said the man. “No sidings, no ghost stations.”

            “There has to be,” said Sherlock as (Y/N) flipped through books and threw them aside. “Check again.” He glanced at (Y/N). “What are the streets?”

            “On top is St. Margaret’s, Street, Bridge Street, Sumatra Road, Parliament Street.” (Y/N) could recite it from memory.

            “Hang on, hang on,” said the underground worker. “You mentioned Sumatra Road. There is something. I knew it rang a bell.” He leaned off-screen to grab a diagram. “There was a station down there.”

            “Well, why isn’t it on the maps?” asked John. (Y/N) had gone through at least a dozen versions of maps of the underground at that point.

            “ ‘Cause it was closed before it ever opened,” said the man.

            Not even a ghost station. It literally never existed but is still carved out. It’s perfect to make something vanish, thought (Y/N).

            “What?” said John.

            “They built platforms, even staircases, but it got tied up in legal disputes, so they never built the station on the surface,” explained the worker.

            Sherlock closed the call without a goodbye (very Sherlock). They’d gotten what they needed. “It’s right underneath the Palace of Westminster.”

            “And what’s down there? A bomb?” exclaimed John.

            “What else?” said (Y/N), grabbing their coat and running out the door.

            Sherlock pulled on his coat dramatically and exited a moment later. John sighed and followed.

l

            (Y/N), Sherlock, and John walked past the House of Parliament to Westminster Station. They descended beneath the streets of London and into the world of the underground. They walked through the corridors to the platform where Moran had disappeared with his carriage.

            “So, it’s a bomb, then? The tube carriage is carrying a bomb,” said John.

            (Y/N) and Sherlock approached the maintenance tunnel doors.

            “Must be,” said (Y/N) while Sherlock reached into his coat to pull out a concealed crowbar.

            John pulled out his phone, and (Y/N) glanced at him.

            “What are you doing?” they asked.

            “Calling the police,” said John.

            “What?! No,” said Sherlock, admonishing him.

            “Sherlock, this isn’t a game. They need to evacuate Parliament,” said John.

            “They’ll get in the way. They always do. This is cleaner, more efficient,” said Sherlock. He needed to be as fast as possible. He knew that. After all, (Y/N) was there and wouldn’t go far from him at such a time. So, they were in danger, and Sherlock wouldn’t let them get hurt.

            “There’s probably not that much time, anyways,” said (Y/N) carelessly while Sherlock forced the maintenance door open.

            “This is illegal,” said John as (Y/N) and Sherlock stepped through the door.

            “You shot someone,” said (Y/N) matter-of-factly.

            John couldn’t argue with that point and sighed. He followed (Y/N) and Sherlock into the maintenance tunnels. All three switched on flashlights and peered into the darkness in front of them. It was time for the Holmes family (and associates) to save London.

Taglist:

@stilesstilinskiforlife-blog

@im-making-an-effort

@ilse235

@schrodingers-intelligence

@awsedrftgyhujikol

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@forever1313

@mentallyunstablemanlover

[hellowhisperingstars]

Chapter Eleven: The Ring

Summary: Trapped in your fathers house you finally see how far he'd go to get his way and Steve gets to the bottom of your personality change.

Pairing: Rockstar/Bar Owner!Eddie Munson x Baker!Reader

Words: 8.2K

Warnings: 18+, Y/N used, cussing, alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, reader gets slapped once, forced relationship, blackmail, break up, heart break, controlling parents, step-parents, chauvinism, angst and hurt. Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Here we go! A short but important chapter for you guys! Thank you so much for all the love you have given the story thus far! I love and appreciate every like, comment, and reblog you all give! There are only four more chapters left!

Likes, comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! <3

Please let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list! I will be double checking if you have your age in your bios! AGELESS OR BLANK BLOGS WILL NOT BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST!

Previous - Masterlist - Forward

Saturday turned to Sunday and you refused to come out of your room the whole day. The food that Daniel and Alice tried to give you was left outside your door mostly untouched, minus a few bites here and there. But all you really did was laid in bed wishing that this was all just some fucked up dream. That you would wake up and he would be right there next to you with a goofy smile on those plush lips. Sunday rolled into Monday and in the early morning before the sun was even in the sky you woke up in your childhood bed feeling more alone then you have ever felt in your life. Your hand reached up to fiddle with the pick that had been a comfort to you while Eddie had been in New York only to find that your neck was bare of any sort of jewelry. 

‘That’s right.’ You thought. You had given it back to Eddie when you broke up with him. Tears welled up in your eyes and you couldn’t understand how you still had any water left in your body to produce them. God, you have been so stupid. You should have just told him. He could have done something and you would be with him right now! 

Pulling the blankets over your head you thought of him, remembering all the good times you had up until Saturday. You didn’t want to think of how broken he looked when you broke his heart so you tried to push that aside until all you could hear was the memory of his voice as he praised you, called you a good girl, told you he loved you, that everything was going to be okay. You had to hold onto that. Everything was going to be okay. He would be okay. Keeping him safe was the only thing that mattered now. 

You laid in bed a little longer before you decided to get up and greet the hell your father is making of your life. Plus you needed to call the bakery to have Tiffany and Ada take over for a while until you got back. Slipping from your sheets you headed around your bed and into the attached bathroom to do your morning routine, half assed as it may be. 

Once dressed in your comfiest clothes, you were depressed and didn't care, you wander from your room, your slippers thudding on the hardwood floor as you walk down the hall to the top of the stairs and then down into the entrance hall on your way to the kitchen hoping you might be able to stomach some coffee. You still felt sick after breaking up with Eddie, despair still laying over you like a mourning veil. You smiled a little at your old friends when you walked into the kitchen. Daniel and Alice were bustling around the kitchen starting to get things ready for breakfast when they noticed you. 

“Y/N!” Alice said as she set down the jar of jam she had in her hands and swiftly moved over to you to give you a hug. You gladly wrapped your arms around her, you have never needed a hug so badly in your life. “Are you alright?”

“I’m okay.” You said quietly, you knew out of everyone who worked for your father they would be the ones that would know the least about your current situation and you didn’t want to worry them. So you just smiled trying to play like nothing was wrong as Alice pulled back to look at you.

“You look tired.” She said cupping a hand to your cheek in a mothering way. “Let me get you some coffee hmm?”

“Yes, please.” You nodded as you let her go and moved over to Daniel who was cooking a pan full of eggs. He was a master multitasker as there was another pan and a griddle out already filled with sausage and pancakes. “Hi Dan.”

“Well hello young lady,” He greeted holding one arm out for you to give him a side hug. “Glad to see you out of your room. I was worried about you.”

“Probably just a little stomach bug. Feeling better today.” Placing your head on his shoulder you watched him cook for a few seconds before you let him go. “Did your daughter have a nice graduation?”

“She did. Thank you for the cake. It was beautiful!” He said as Alice came up with your cup of coffee. Just how you liked it. 

“You remembered…” You smiled slightly at her as you took it from her hands.

“Like I would forget how my favorite person likes her coffee.” She said with a roll of her eyes as she started back on filling a little bowl with jam.

“I thought I was your favorite person?” Daniel said fake offended while he looked over at her with wide eyes.

“You're my favorite husband.” She laughed smacking him on the back with a hand towel she grabbed off the island counter. 

“I should be your only husband.” He shot back, giving her a funny look that made you both laugh. 

Leaning on the counter you sipped your coffee and made a face when Alice waved you off when you tried to help her plate the butter for toast. Taking a seat at the island you chatted lightly with the couple until you heard your father moving around upstairs. It had to be him since Evelyn likes to sleep in until noon. Moments later you hear the front door open as Daniel slides a plate filled with a small portion of breakfast in front of you. Eggs, two pancakes, and some sausages. It looked amazing but your stomach turned at the thought of food. 

Daniel gave you a serious look. Like an upset parent. “I know you didn’t eat much for lunch or dinner yesterday. So eat this.”

Not liking his scolding look you pick up your fork to take a little bite of sausage. Chewing slowly as he nodded at you satisfied that he got you to eat at least something. You watched as he turned back around to finish his cooking at the stove.

Oscar walked in then phone in his hand as he just barely looked up. “Morning.” 

Alice and Daniel greeted him but you stayed quiet, your eyes focused on your plate, pushing the bit of eggs around the ceramic dish. Your stomach started to feel uneasy so you stood up quickly and grabbed your coffee as you moved towards the door. You couldn’t stand Oscar on a good day and you definitely couldn’t stand him now, you needed to get out of there. Stay in this room any longer and you were liable to throw something at him. “Please excuse me.” 

“Y/N?” Alice called back as you walked out of the room. She looked at Daniel who looked just as worried but could only shake his head with a shrug. 

“I'm sure she’ll be fine.” Oscar said as he made his own cup of coffee. “Mr. L/N should be down soon.” 

“I’ll start preparing the dining room.” Alice muttered as she grabbed a few filled plates and left the room.

You locked yourself in your room again, setting the cup of coffee down on your vanity, your stomach rolling from the bit of sausage. You sighed, first things first you needed to call the bakery. Tiffany and Ada should be there already getting the treats for the morning rush prepared so one of them should answer the phone. Moving over to the nightstand by your bed you grabbed the cordless phone that sat there, when you were younger you were lucky enough to get one in your room. All your friends from school were jealous of your phone, they would come over and use it to call their boyfriends or girlfriends so their parents wouldn’t listen in or to prank people after school. The only problem with this phone was that anyone else in the house could just pick up the phone and listen in to any conversation if they wanted to.

You dialed the number for the bakery and waited as it rang, and rang, and rang. Moving over to your vanity you sat in the matching chair as someone finally answered the phone. 

“Sugar Cloud, how can we make your day sweet?” Tiffany’s voice called out. It made you giggle. 

“Oh my god,” You laughed a bit, “Is that what we sound like when we answer the phone? We sound like a sex line.”

“Y/N!” Tiffany sighed in relief. “Where are you? Are you okay? When no one answered upstairs this morning I almost broke the door down! I thought Oscar killed you or something I was about to call the police!”

“Shit, I’m sorry.” You said as you leaned forward putting your elbows on your knees. “The family issue got a little more serious than I expected so I have to stay at my dad’s place for a little while. I was just calling to see if you and Ada can take over the run of the bakery until I get back.”

“Yeah no problem.” Tiffany said in a light voice. “I’ll let Ada know, we’ll take care of everything.”

“Thank you.” You sighed. You discussed a few things after that. Inventory, how to pay everyone, and to call her at this number if anything went sideways. 

“And you call me if you need us.” Tiffany said in a serious manner. “Ada and I have no problem with coming up there to steal you away.”

“I will.” You smiled at your friend though she couldn’t see it. “Thank you.”

You both said your goodbyes and you stood up bringing the phone back to its cradle. Placing it down you looked at your nightstand, the drawer still slightly open from you shoving something in it the night you got here. Pulling it out farther you looked at the piece of notebook paper that sat on top. You could call him… Tell him everything. Your stomach rolled again as you grabbed the paper and opened it. Looking at the name and number that you had hastily scratched on it while sitting in your car was almost unreadable but you managed. Daniel Christianson. Eddie had said to call him if you needed help… Carefully you picked up the receiver in your shaking hand and punched all the correct numbers into the phone as you took a breath before holding it up to your ear. It rang only once. 

“Christianson.” His deep voice answered. Having seen his photo around town more than once you had a good idea of what this guy looked like but you were surprised with how deep his voice was. It wasn’t what you had imagined.

A moment of silence later he spoke again more curious than annoyed. “Hello?”

“S-shit.” You floundered for a moment, the words you so wanted to speak getting stuck in your throat before your nerves got the better of you. Anyone could pick up and listen in. Panic. You stuttered out quickly, “S-sorry, wrong number.”

And you hung up.

Closing your eyes you put the phone against your forehead. You were such a wimp. 

The day went on much the same as Sunday did. You stayed in your room away from everyone not wanting to see your father or Oscar, Alice came in only once to give you a lunch that you barely touched. The full plate ended up back in the hallway. And by the time dinner rolled around you had picked up the phone to call Mr. Christianson at least four times. And each time you chickened out. Groaning you flopped back onto your bed, your hands over your face. Just pick up the phone and call the fucking guy! Tell him everything and you can go home! But.. What if Oscar or your dad picked up somewhere else in the house? Then your dad would know you were going behind his back and release everything about Eddie! Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fucking, fuck!

A knock on your door made you jump and you took a moment to settle your racing heart. Sitting up you looked over at the door. “What?!”

Evelyn opened the door and leaned on the frame for a moment, her arms crossed over her chest. She was dressed nicely in her normal ‘i have money to burn’ way. “The Malloy’s are here for dinner. Your father wants you dressed appropriately and downstairs in twenty minutes.”

You stared at her for a moment before you nodded your head and turned away from her. You waited until you heard your door close and her heels click away before you even got off the bed. You would get ready but you would do it in your own damn time. In the end you took an extra fifteen minutes to get dressed, you didn’t even try hard but you looked nice… enough. A pretty dress, some wedges, and light makeup. You put in the bare minimum, but at least you didn’t look tired and dead anymore. 

Slowly you moved out of your room, closing the door behind you as you walked towards the stairs and then down them carefully. You could hear the chatter and laughter from the living room and you took a breath before you entered the room, their words stopping briefly as you moved in. “Sorry I’m late.”

Your father gave you a look of disapproval as Peter stood up from his seat moving around the coffee table to greet you. “It’s nice to see you again Y/N.”

“Yeah, you too.” You gave a weak, forced smile. You hated him. His presence only reminded you of what you couldn’t have. 

“How have you been?” He asked, sounding almost genuinely curious.

Blinking at him you shrugged a little. “I’ve been… better. How are you?”

“Better now that I get to see you.” He smiled in that charming way that made you feel gross.

“Dinner is ready.” Alice said as she opened the doors that attached the dining room to the living room. Looks like you were right on time. 

“Thank you Alice.” Your father said as he stood up and gestured for everyone to move into the other room. “Shall we?”

You watch as Peter and his parents start to move towards the dining room, before you decide to follow a few steps behind him, mostly so you don't have to walk next to him. But he stopped and waited for you so you gave him a polite smile. ‘Fuck’

Together you walked into the dining room and took the seat that Peter pulled out for you. You gave him a quiet thanks as he sat in the seat right next to you, unfortunately, your step mother and his mom took their seats across from you with the two dads at the heads of the table. Oscar had made himself scarce it seems. That was fine with you, you had no desire to see his smug face at the moment.

Dinner was already on the table and carefully everyone started to pass around plates and bowls filling their plates as they chatted about god knows what you honestly weren’t listening. Daniel and Alice did a wonderful job with dinner. It looked amazing, but in the end your plate was sparse compared to everyone else's. You didn't want anything too rich or heavy that would make you wanna throw up. 

“Watching your figure?” Peter asked as he looked at your plate before smiling up at you. 

“No,” You said tightly as you poked some mashed potatoes with your fork. “I haven’t been feeling well recently.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He said as he cut into the chicken on his plate. “But I’m glad you decided to stay with your father for a while. Hopefully being here will help you relax.”

‘Not likely.’  You thought as you took a bite of your own small piece of chicken. You chatted lightly with the others at the table when the moments were right, making it look like you actually cared about anything they were saying. Glancing up at your dad he gave you a tight, serious smile that made you want to roll your eyes so you just looked back over at Peter and attempted to make small talk with him as you ate your dinner. Thankfully once Peter started chatting it was hard to shut him up so all you really had to do was nod and smile and throw out a ‘mhm” at the appropriate time and he was putty in your hands. Putty you would wash down the drain if you could. 

Soon dinner was finished and dessert was served, you ate as much of that as you could cause you loved Daniels creme brulee. By the end of it you felt sick again but it was worth it. Once everyone started to stand you tried to excuse yourself so you could hide away back in your room as everyone else went to have coffee in the living room but your father stopped you.

“Where are you going?”

“My room.” You sighed.

“No you’re not.” He said as he smiled at Mrs. Malloy who walked by. “Go in that room and talk to them.”

“I talked to them at dinner.” You said looking away from him. “I don’t feel good and I want to lay down.”

“You will go in that room and continue to be a good host.”

“I’m not the host you are. They aren’t here for me.”

“On the contrary,” He hissed back as he grabbed your arm and moved you towards the room. “Play nice and gi-”

“Give him whatever he wants.” You repeated as you crossed your arms over your chest before you walked into the living room and took a seat in one of the open chairs. This was going to be the longest night of your life wasn’t it?

One hour turned into two and now you had started milling about the living room as your father chatted about business with Mr. Malloy. The wives were discussing some fashion designers that Evelyn loved. You on the other hand were staring out one of the large picture windows that looked into the backyard when you felt someone come up next to you. Looking over your shoulder you gave a tight smile to Peter as he looked out the window as well. 

“Your fathers garden is beautiful.” He started as he looked down at you. 

“The gardeners work hard to make sure it’s perfect. They do a great job.” You nodded as you looked back outside. 

“Will you take a walk with me?”

“Sure,” Nodding your head anything to get out of this damn room. The both of you moved towards the french doors that would take you into the backyard and like a gentleman he was raised to be Peter held one open for you as you slipped outside and took a few steps down from the small cement patio into the garden listening as he followed. The backyard was large. Filled with different kinds of flowers and trees, the grass is a healthy green and if you were to walk on it with no shoes the blades would be soft and inviting. A good place to have a picnic. You did that a lot as a kid with Nana and Steve. Picnics in the garden were one of your favorite things when you were little. 

“It’s even better up close.” Peter said as he left the patio and joined you in the flowers. His hands slipped into his suit pockets. You realized you had only ever seen him in a suit. Did he even own casual clothes?

“They are.” You nodded as you moved towards the rose bushes that lined the walkway. You played with the soft petals for a few seconds before you dropped your hand and continued to walk towards the large three tiered fountain that sat in the middle of the backyard. You used to love sitting here and reading when you were younger, the falling water was calming. You needed that calm right now.

You walked in a circle around the fountain until you reached the other side and stopped in shock as you looked at Peter. Who was down on one knee. A small velvet box holding a ring in his hand. “W-what are you doing?”

“Y/N,” Peter said with a smile on his face. “I know we haven’t known each other long. But I-”

“Don’t,” You said, shaking your head a little at him. This was insane. “Please get up.”

He ignored you though and pressed on. After all, girls were always shocked when they were proposed to weren’t they? “I love you. I’ve loved you for a while now. Since the first night I met you, here at your fathers home for that business party last summer.”

“Please stop. You don’t even really know me!” Tears welled in your eyes. You didn’t want this. Looking up at the house you could see both sets of parents watching you from the windows. In one the Malloys stood there looking excited, his mother practically bouncing in her spot, her hands clasped together on her chest like this was the most romantic thing she had ever seen, while his father just looked proud. Your gaze shot over to the other window and you noticed that Evelyn looked bored and your father gave you a very serious look. A silent threat. ‘Give him what he wants.’ Did that have to be you? “Peter, we only went on one date.”

“A wonderful date.” Peter chuckled as he held the ring up a little higher. The diamond on it was huge. It sparkled in the light of the setting sun. “And I want to date you for the rest of my life. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

“Peter…” Closing your eyes you looked up at the sky for a moment before you glanced back at your father who was nodding at you silently. If you didn’t do this… ‘Eddie…’ Taking a deep breath you bit your lip before you nodded slowly. A very quiet and weak "Yes…" left your lips.

Peter's smile brightened as he stood up and grabbed your left hand delicately so he could slip the ring on your finger. Throwing his arms around you he pulled you into a crushing hug and you closed your eyes letting your tears fall. They would think they were from happiness but you were spiraling. You were never going to see Eddie again… were you?

When the two of you walked back into the house you were pounced on immediately by his mother who was practically exploding with happiness. You let her take your hand from Peters so she could coo over the ring that felt heavy on your hand. She was already talking about the wedding and how wonderful it was going to be. Stating how she had always wanted a daughter, when all you wanted was a moment to breathe. To grieve the loss of your freedom. 

For another hour you were stuck in the living room sitting between Evelyn and Mrs. Malloy as they chatted about the wedding, you couldn’t breathe. You sent a glare across the room at your father who laughed with Mr. Malloy, his hand on Peter's shoulder as they congratulated him on his fine catch most likely.  

It was only after the Malloy’s had left for the evening that you practically stomped into your fathers office not caring that you were interrupting him as he spoke with Oscar. You were past your initial shocked heartbreak and have dived head first into anger. Throwing the door open you entered and looked at the assistant while pointing towards the door. “Get out.”

Oscar glared at you before he turned back to your father to continue what he was saying. “As I was sayi-”

“I said get out!” You seethed.

“We'll continue this later.” Your father said as he glared at you as well. He waited until Oscar had closed the door behind him before he started in on you. “This couldn’t have waited? I’m sure it’s not going to be as important as what Oscar was going to tell me.”

“How dare you…” You hissed as you walked towards his desk. Pulling the ring off your finger you chucked it at him watching as it hit him in the chest before it landed on his desk with a little clatter. Hoping you had scuffed it in some way. “You said date Peter not marry him! I won't do it!”

“You will.” He said as he picked up the ring from where it landed and looked at it. Still perfect. “Did you forget all the dirt I have on your little rock star?”

“How could I forget when it’s been dangled in front of me every minute I’m in this goddamn house?”

“Watch your language when you talk to me.” He sneered at you as he walked around his desk stalking closer to you. His movements were quick until he was standing over you. Doing what he does best, making you feel small. “Are you even aware of what I am doing for you? Yes you are helping me and in turn I am setting you up for life! With the money that the Malloy’s have you never have to work again. Who knew I raised such a selfish, ungrateful child?”

“Me?” You asked in shock pointing to your chest. “I’m the selfish one? I gave up everything and you have the nerve to call me selfish? I left my home, my job, my friends, I hurt the one man who actually loved me because of you. I love Eddie! I'm only doing this to protect him from you! So don't you dare call me selfish! The only selfish person here is you! Don’t start acting like you give a shit about m-"

A gasp rushed past your lips, your cheek heating up and pulsing with the beat of your heart. One minute you were looking at your dad the next thing you knew you were staring at the bookshelves. Tears welled in your eyes as you brought your hand up to cup the throbbing area. He slapped you. He had actually slapped you. 

“Listen to me you little shit.” He hissed, thrusting the ring back into the hand not cupping your cheek. “This has been in motion for months. I don't care if you don't love him. Love has nothing to do with this. I tried to give you the chance to fall for him on your own, obviously that didn't work, but it doesn't matter anymore because it was always going to end this way. You have been promised to Peter from the very beginning and you will marry him at the end of the month. Everything is already arranged. Evelyn and Charlotte have taken care of most of the planning before tonight even happened. All you have to do is play your part as the blushing bride and once it's done I'll get the money from the Malloys for the company and you will be in Chicago with Peter. We never have to see each other again if that's what you want but you will do this or Munsons reputation goes down the drain. Am. I. Clear?”

“... Crystal...” You mutter as you glare up at him, tears still sitting on your lashes. You dropped your hand from your cheek letting him see the spot where he had hit you.   

“Good. Now get out.” Your father snapped as he turned away from you walking back to his desk so he could continue his work that you had in his mind so rudely interrupted.

Slowly you backed away a few steps before you felt okay enough to turn your back to him and walked towards the door. Your hand gripped the ring so tightly you prayed it would be crushed in your grip. As you got close to the door something caught your eye and you turned your head to the left slightly to see what it was. On the wooden table by the door sat a bottle of your fathers favorite whiskey. It mocked you, tempted you. Slowly you moved to it, your hand coming up to grab the neck of the bottle. It wasn’t until now that you finally, truly, understood why your moms drinking got so out of hand. 

Your father looked up from his papers as he heard the glass scrape across the wood, seeing that you had grabbed the whiskey he snorted as he looked down again with a shake of his head. A mocking tone to his voice as he muttered out, “Like mother, like daughter.” 

That hurt. Taking in a deep breath you opened the door and walked from the room putting more distance between the two of you. You sent a glare to Oscar as he walked back into the office, closing the door behind him as you headed towards the stairs and to your room, the only place in this damn house you felt safe. So much for your three drink rule…

Steve was worried. It’s been a full seven days since you broke it off with Eddie and he hadn't heard from you in over a week. It was driving him crazy that he had no clue what had happened to you once you left the bar that day. He didn’t even know that you were even engaged. He had tried to call you off and on over the last few days but no one would answer your home phone. He figured you had been screening your calls so if he dropped in unexpectedly you would have to deal with him. Grabbing his keys off the coffee table in his studio, he locked his door, and jogged down the stairs to the main floor of the bar. He looked around for a moment hoping that his friend had finally gone to bed but when he looked on the couch there was Eddie, right where he left him last night, a beer bottle clutched in his hand. “Isn’t it too early to be drinking?”

“It’s not early if you never went to sleep,” The metalhead grumbled before he looked up from the couch he was lounging on. "Where are you going?" 

“To see Y/N.” Steve said, as he stopped fiddling with his keys to look at his friend. His hands moved to sit on his hips. “She's not answering her phone and I wanna get some answers. None of this is adding up.” 

“I'm coming with you.” Eddie said as he sat up quickly putting the bottle on the metal box they used as a table. His movements wobbly, making him fall back onto the couch.

“No. You're staying here.” 

“Why?” Eddie asked through clenched teeth.

“One you've been drinking all night and can’t even get off the couch without falling over. And two she's more likely to talk to me alone.” 

“I haven’t been drinking all night! Just… most of the night.” Eddie growled as he watched Steve fiddle with his keys again, before he sighed in resignation. His eyes held sadness as he looked up at him. “Will you at least tell me how she is?” 

“Yeah.” Steve nodded. “I can do that. See you in a bit. Don't do anything stupid.” 

Eddie flipped him off as he slumped back onto the couch. He's been utterly miserable since you broke it off with him. He didn't understand what he had done to make you turn on him like that. His brain wouldn’t stop replaying the moment you said goodbye to him. Searching for some kind of sign to see where he went wrong hoping that he could find a way to fix this. It made sleeping incredibly difficult when all he saw was you walking away from him. Thankfully beer helped dull the pain. At least a little bit. Sighing he grabbed his beer again, guess he just had to wait until Steve got back. 

Twenty minutes later Steve pulled his old BMW into the back parking lot of the bakery, stopping his car next to yours. At least your car was here. That was a good sign right? He practiced his argument in his head as he got out of the car, quickly moving through the lot, and into the kitchen of the bakery. He just hoped you were willing to talk to him.

“Hey ladies,” He smiled as he walked towards the stairs that lead up to the second floor. “Has she come down yet?”

“Oh… she's not here.” Tiffany said as she placed the piping bag in her hands down. The cookies could wait a moment. 

“What?” Steve asked, his brows notched together, hands landing on his hips. “Her car is here… Is she gonna be back soon? I can wait.” 

“We don't know when she'll be back.” Ada shrugged half heartedly as she placed some muffins on a display tray. “Her dad's guy. Fuck. Tiff, what’s his name?”

“Oscar,” She sighed. 

“Yeah, Oscar came by a couple days ago and she hasn't been in since. She's at her dad's place. Said it was some kind of family emergency but didn’t go into detail. Do you know what it is?”

Shaking his head, ran hand down his face in frustration. “No. I don’t know anything. I'll figure it out though. Thanks ladies.”

“Steve…” Tiffany said in a voice he couldn't read, stopping him in his tracks as he moved towards the door again. “Something happened before she left. Her and Ada came in from the bar that Monday and were in good moods but her dad was here waiting in the office for her. Once she went into the office that changed. When her dad left, she left not long after and she wasn't herself. He did something and I don't know what. All last week she was off. She called on Monday though that’s how we know where she is.”

“Shit. Okay. I’ll go talk to her.” Steve said with a nod. Giving a quick goodbye he left the kitchen and headed out towards the parking lot to his car. Looks like he would be making a trip up to Indianapolis. 

Your cousin stared up at the large house as he pulled into the driveway. The house always looked cold to him, like his own parents' home. But it held memories for him, mostly happy ones. Ones he made with you and Nana. Turning off the car he pulled the key out and stepped from the driver's seat, closing the door behind him, before he started up the walk to the front door and rang the doorbell. He only waited a few minutes before Alice the housemaid opened the door. “Hey Alice.”

“Steve!” She smiled at him, opening the door wider to allow him in. “Haven’t seen you in a while. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing okay. You?” 

“Good good. Here to see Y/N?” She asked as she closed the door once he was inside out of the heat. When he nodded she pointed him in the direction he’d find his cousin. “She’s in the dining room. Looking at wedding details.” 

“Wedding… details?” Steve asked, confused as he looked over at the room in question. 

“You don’t know?” Alice asked with wide eyes like she let a secret slip. “Y/N is engaged to Peter Malloy.”

“What?" Steve snapped his head back to Alice. "Since when?" 

"Since Monday night."

"Fuck. Excuse me." He said before he started to move farther into the house calling back a thanks as he marched into the room. He stopped as he got into the room looking you over in shock. You didn’t look like yourself. Your hair was styled differently and your whole outfit all the way down to your heels screamed business man's wife. You were staring at three different colored linen napkins as you fiddled with a set of pearls that sat around your neck, Nana’s pearls, your large diamond engagement ring practically blinding him when the light hit it. Anger swelled in his chest at you. “What the fuck?! You break up with Eddie and then get engaged days later?!”

“Steve?” Your head snapped up to look at him as he started moving closer to you. Confusion is clear on your face. “What are you doing here?”

"I came to talk to you." Up close he noticed how tired you looked, the slight hollowness to your cheeks that wasn't there before worried him, it was like you haven’t been taking care of yourself, and he could barely make out a small healing bruise on your cheek bone. His hand went up to touch your cheek. “What the fuck happened?”

“It’s nothing…"

"That doesn't look like nothing."

"It's fine, Chippy, just drop it.” You knew if you told him you would cry and you didn't want to lose it in front of him so you thought maybe you could distract him. Turning you grabbed two of the three different color napkins and held them out for him to see. “I'm glad you're here though. You can help me. This one is ivory and this one is more of an off white cream. There’s also just a white one but I don't know if I like that one very much.”

“What are you doing?” Steve asked quietly, confused by this whole situation. You weren’t acting like yourself. “You’re engaged to Malloy? You hate that guy.”

“He’s… not that bad once you get to know him.” You said your voice started to shake as you looked up at him. When he didn’t say anything, anxiety rolled in your chest making it feel tight. Your hands were trembling as you looked down at the linen. "Please Chippy… Just pick one."

Your cousin looked at you before he took the napkins out of your hands, throwing them on the table. “Talk to me. This isn’t like you. You were happy with Eddie. What happened?”

“I can- I don’t want to talk about it.” You said turning away from him quickly to look at dinner plate options, your bottom lip quivering just a bit. Moving one away from the others into a reject pile. “This one is ugly.”

“Birdie I-”

“Steve please just…” You shook your head. 

“Talk to me. I’m worried about you.” 

He watched your breathing start to pick up, you were wringing your hands in front of you as you thought for a moment before you dropped them, your mind seemed to be made up. Quickly you moved to the dining room doors pulling them away from the walls so you could close them quietly. Once the doors were secured you turned and rushed back to him, your heels clicking on the wood flooring the only sound in the room for a moment. “My dad is blackmailing me into marrying Peter.”

“What?!” Shock covered his features. His voice was a little louder than he anticipated.

“Shhhh!” You hissed at him before looking at the door making sure no one was going to walk in and ask what happened. Glancing back at Steve you started to explain. “I don’t know how, but he was able to get Eddie’s old criminal record and finances. If I don’t do what he wants he’s threatening to release them to the public and ruin Eddie’s image and everything he worked so hard for. He has everything Steve.”

“Jesus Christ…” Wiping his hand down his face he looked around the room like someone was going to pop out at you both before he turned back to look at you. “What does he know exactly?”

“He knows about when Eddie went to jail for possession and dealing, he knows about Chrissy dying, and he knows that…” You took a deep breath. “He knows that Eddie's been paying child support for the last four years.”

“Child support?” Confusion bloomed on his face making his brows drop down over his eyes a little as the space between them bunched up a bit. “Eddie doesn’t have any kids.” 

“That’s what I told him but he showed me the papers Steve! It’s all there. He’s been paying a thousand dollars a month to someone named Abigail... something.”

“Fuck.”

“That’s why I did it. That’s why I broke up with Eddie. I had to keep him safe from my dad.” You said tears in your eyes as you looked up at him. “I had to keep all of you safe. If he could look into Eddie’s past; there's nothing keeping him from looking into everyone else's and finding skeletons that he could use to his advantage. Even yours Steve.” 

It took Steve a long time to get a breath in as he contemplated everything you told him. Putting his hands on your shoulders he squeezed them a little. “Come with me. We’ll go back to the bar and tell Eddie everything. You don’t have to do this.”

“I can’t just leave.” You shook your head at him. “If I do, dad will know I said something and release everything. There’s an engagement party tonight and I have to be there for it. It would be suspicious if I didn't go.”

“I’m not just going to leave you here to deal wit-” 

The door opened cutting Steve off mid-sentence making him drop his hands from your shoulders as Peter walked through the dining room doors. “Why are the doors closed Sweetheart?”

You flinched at the pet name. You hated it when he called you that. It sounded gross coming from him, only Eddie could call you Sweetheart. Ignoring his question you looked over at Peter as he got closer, forcing a smile onto your face. Clearing your throat you gestured to your cousin, “Steve stopped by for a visit.”

Steve narrowed his eyes at Peter when you flinched. 

“Ah! Steve!” Peter said with a smile as he wrapped one arm around your waist pulling you to his side and holding the other out for Steve to shake. “It’s nice to see you again. I was hoping you would stop by. You’re so important to Y/N, I was hoping the two of us could get to know each other more. Since we’ll be cousins soon and all. Did you come to help with wedding details?”

“Not originally,” Steve said, shaking the man's hand. His grip might have been tighter than necessary before he turned his head to look at you, his face was calm but his eyes said something different. “But I’m here to help. All you have to do is ask. You know that right?”

Your throat closed around your words as you tried to speak but when nothing came out you just nodded. Tears were still in your eyes as you looked away from Steve back at the table full of last minute things. 

“That’s great!” Peter smiled as he looked down at you. “It’ll be nice for her to have some help. The little lady’s been pretty stressed out the last few days since the engagement. Luckily my mom and Evelyn took care of all the big things, right babe?”  His gaze moved back up to Steve as one of his hands came up to gesture at him like he just had a greatest idea. “Hey we should get together sometime, maybe at that bar you work at, get to know each other. Y/N tells me you were co-captain of your swim team in high school. I was also on the swim team in school. I was the captain though.”

Steve gave a noncommittal sound that could be misheard as interest but knowing Steve like you did that was his 'I don't care' sound. 

Glancing between Peter and Steve you give your cousin a serious look as you clear your throat to break the quiet tension. “Steve has to get going unfortunately. You have to open the bar soon, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Steve nodded, thankful you had given him an out. The sooner he gets back to the bar the sooner he can get Eddie up to speed. And maybe confront him on that kid bullshit. “I’ll have to check my work schedule to see if I have a free day soon to… hang out.”

Peter dug into this pocket to grab his wallet and went through it for a moment before he pulled out a card and handed it to Steve. “Here’s my card. Got all my info on it. Give me a call when you find the time or if you get into legal trouble.” 

Steve looked down at the card and then back up to Peter. Surprise evident in his eyes, “You’re a lawyer?”

“The best in Chicago.” He looked proud of himself. 

Your cousin’s eyes narrowed slightly at your new fiancee, he was a lawyer and is keeping you hostage in a forced engagement… Did he know about the blackmail? Being a lawyer didn’t he know that all of this was highly illegal? “I’ll be sure to call you. Birdie, let me know if you need anything okay? Anything at all.”

“Okay,” You nodded, giving him a little smile. You knew what he meant. Call him if you need to run. 

“Oh shit, I know you have to work but if you get off early enough you should drop by the Conrad tonight. We are having our engagement party there. I’m sure Y/N would love to see you.”

“Yeah maybe.” Steve nodded his head putting the card in the pocket of his pants. “Saturdays are one of our busy days. I don't know if my boss will let me off at such short notice.”

“Your boss is that Munson guy right?” Peter asked, looking thoughtful before he started to chuckle. Oh how you wanted to punch him in his smarmy little face. “I hope there’s no hard feelings between him and I… But you know how it is. The best man wins in the end.” 

“Uh.. yeah.” Steve said with a small nod before he pointed to the door. “I should go.”

“I’ll call you.” You said as he hugged you tightly. Giving you the comfort that you’ve been needing that last few days. You felt sick again as you watched him leave, there goes your only hope of things going back to normal. Maybe now you would have the balls to call Mr. Christianson and actually talk to him. End this once and for all.

“Have you picked out the napkins you wanted?” Peter asked, bringing you out of your thoughts as he turned to look at the table full of items. 

“I was thinking the cream would be nice.” You quietly said pointing at it. You didn’t give a fuck about napkins.

Peter laughed then and shook his head using his fingers to grab the linen and toss it into the reject pile. “No. That would clash with the colors mom and Evelyn picked out. Plus, it would look like a giant pad of butter on your pretty white dress. We’ll stick with the white.” 

Closing your eyes you took a deep breath to calm yourself as you nodded slowly, muttering a quick, “Of course. How silly of me.”

“It’s alright babe. Sometimes you just need a man to make the final decision.” He smirked at you as he turned to walk out of the door slapping your ass as he went. “See you tonight!”

Anger coursed through your veins as he left. You wanted to scream. Wanted to throw something. Anything. Looking at the table filled with wedding things you grabbed the closest thing to you, a pretty porcelain dinner plate and chucked it across the room. The shattering sound it made calmed you a little as you felt a bit of your anger leave as you took in shuttering deep breaths. The white dish lay in pieces on the floor, broken, much like your life.

“What was that?!” Alice said as she rushed in to make sure you were okay. Worry in her eyes.

“It slipped.” You said dully before you looked over at her hoping she would just leave it at that.

Nodding her head, Alice looked at you in understanding. “I’ll go get the broom then.”

Getting back into his car, Steve stared at the house that once held so many memories for him. Playing with you as kids in the backyard or in the living room, family Christmas parties, birthdays, cuddling on the couch with Nana between you two as she read you both a book. It wasn't heaven but it was always nice.

But now Steve saw it for what it really was. A prison. And you were a prisoner, trapped in your own solitary confinement. Shoving his keys into the ignition of his car, Steve turned it on and backed out of the long driveway. He had to get back to the bar and hopefully find Eddie sober enough to hear what he had to say. And clear headed enough to call his fucking lawyer.

Tag List:

@eddiesprincess86 @haylaansmi @micheledawn1975 @chloe-6123

[ashknife]

Hank & Gracie

Another holiday, another @inklings-challenge. I missed the deadline for the Christmas challenge, but I can revisit that next year. This is my entry for the 2024 Four Loves Fairy Tale Challenge. This is a retelling of Hansel & Gretel. As always, I do appreciate criticism and suggestions. Enjoy!

I’m Hank. I live with Ma and my li’l sister Gracie. We live in an apartment in the middle of the city. Sometimes there’s a dog or a cat, but it’s mostly just us. Pa used to live here, but Ma said he ran off after some hussy. I don’t know what a hussy is, but I don’t like ‘em. I don’t like Pa, either. I miss him.

The apartment is on the second floor of a tall brick building. I think I counted thirteen floors on the building. I’d look in the elevator, but Ma won’t let us go on it.

“That’s for folks who need it,” she said. “Don’t you let me catch you playing on it.”

I tried climbing the stairs to the top instead. They went on forever! But me and Gracie, we made it. The door said 14 at the top. The door below said 12. We looked all over for 13. Spent all day, but somehow it was missing. Gracie cried. She does that a lot. Ma found us while we was still looking. We got in big trouble.

“Henry James, you know better than to fool around and get lost while looking after your sister! What are you gonna do when you get lost for good? Huh? Now dinner’s cold!”

Ma sure yells a lot. She says I’m the man of the house. I have to be big and look after Gracie. I’m seven, and she’s only four. I say it ain’t fair, but Ma says it ain’t fair she have to work, but she does it anyway. It’s hard to get past Ma. She knows everything. I wanna be like her when I grow up.

Ma works hard. Sometimes she’s home, cleaning up the apartment and cooking supper, but most times she’s gone. During the day, it’s some office. At night, she’s waitin’ at some tables. That seems easy enough, but when I asked if I could wait at the tables, Ma just laughed.

“Thank you, child, but you ain’t old enough yet.”

“But you could stay home and be with Gracie, Ma.”

Ma just looked tired, shook her head, and drank her coffee. She drank a lot of coffee.

“Someday, maybe. Just not today.”

As much as Ma worked, she didn’t have a lot of money. Bills and rent, she said. She’d always talk about the bills and rent when we got holes in our clothes or made a mess or asked for a piece of candy. Bills and rent. They just keep going up and up. Sometimes it gets hard. Sometimes Ma can’t get nothing but the roaches in the cabinets. We’d go to churches more, then. Sometimes they have free food. Ma would cry every time she got a bag of somethin’. She’d cry more at home, when we was supposed to be asleep. You’d think she’d be happy. Ma does strange things sometimes.

The other day, Ma was at the office. She told us to behave and be good. It was payday, so maybe she would bring us home something nice. We didn’t have no food for a couple of days. I was hoping for some chips from that new shop that opened down the street. Some big white guy named Pete opened it and named it after himself. He was a little fat and covered in hair. He sure liked to laugh a lot, especially at Ma’s jokes. Ma said he was trying too hard. His store sure was nice, though. All sorts of candy and chips and soda, more than I’d ever seen in my life. Not even the grocery store has that many. Pete certainly didn’t have a bin of celery. Yuck.

Sometimes, when Ma wasn’t looking, Pete would slip me and Gracie a piece of candy.

“On the house,” he whispered with a wink. “Our little secret.”

We’d pocket that candy and hide it when we got home. When Ma was asleep or away, we’d eat it. It was real good. The candy smelled nice, too. We’d save the wrappers and smell them, especially when we was hungry. We’d dream of something nice to eat when Ma got paid. It’d help us hold on for just a little longer. We’d stash those wrappers under our mattresses. Ma would have a fit if she saw them. She might wonder if we stole them from Pete.

Since Ma was getting paid today, maybe she was gonna get that special something from Pete’s. But that was a whole day away, and we was hungry, and it was hot out, and we didn’t want to do nothing. But we was hungry. It was gonna be a long day. Then Gracie came up with a great idea.

“Hank, you go hide!” she said. She went to a corner and started counting. So, I went and hid behind the couch in the living room. It felt cooler back there.

“Ready or not, here I come!” she yelled.

I heard her go through the kitchen and her room and my room. I tried to hold my breath, which was hard to do because I was trying not to laugh. Then my belly growled really loud.

“Found you!” Gracie said. She crawled behind the couch and tagged me.

“No fair!” I said. “You heard my belly!”

“Still found you. Now you go, and I’ll hide.”

“Okay, okay.”

I crawled out from behind the couch and went to the corner.

“Ooooone…twoooooo…” I started. I have to count real slow for Gracie. She gets mad if I go too fast. It doesn’t help her much. She giggles and laughs while she’s looking for a place to hide. I know where she is, but if I go too fast, she’ll get mad. She gets mad if I take too long, too. I play at looking around in other rooms first before I find her, and then she laughs and calls me dum-dum for taking so long, but she isn’t mad. Gracie is as strange as Ma sometimes. Can’t please nobody.

This time, Gracie hid under the kitchen sink. I stomped down the hallway to Ma’s room.

“Where’s Gracie? Is she in Ma’s room?” I open the door to Ma’s room real slow so that it creaks real loud.

“No, not here,” I said, quickly closing Ma’s room. Ma doesn’t want us to go in. She has a way of knowing even if she ain’t there. I stomp to my room.

“Is Grac–”

She screamed and fell out onto the kitchen floor. I ran to see what was happening.

“What is it? What is it?” I said.

“It’s on me! Get it off! Get it off!”

I saw a roach crawl across her shirt. I didn’t think too much about it. I got up and swat the thing. It smacked against the wall and fell on its back. I got up to it and stomped on it, and again, and again, and again. I’m sure it was dead, but I gave it a couple more just to be sure. I swept it into the dustbin and closed the door under the sink.

Gracie cried and cried. I looked around her and pat her clothes in case there was another one that was hiding. I sat by her and held her.

“It’s gone, Gracie. I got it.”

“Did you kill it?”

“Yeah, I killed it.”

“It tried to eat me, Hank!”

“It’s gone, Gracie.”

Our bellies growled. It was gonna be a long day.

After a while, Gracie calmed down.

“I’m hungry, Hank.”

“Me, too.”

“Can we go to Pete’s?”

“We ain’t got money.”

“Aww…”

We sat for a minute.

“Do you want to go hide again? Somewhere without bugs?”

“Okay…”

“I’ll count to a hundred so you can make sure it’s real safe. If it ain’t, you yell, and I’ll take of it. Okay?”

“Promise?”

“Yeah.”

She got up, and then she got this grin on her face.

“Okay, you count to a hundred!”

So, I did. I went to my room and counted loudly to a hundred. It takes a long time to count to a hundred. I figured Gracie might have gotten bored, because she stopped giggling after a while. I heard doors open and close, but there was no screaming. Ain’t no bugs gonna get her this time.

“Niiiiinety-eeeeeight…niiiiinety-niiiiiine…oooooone huuuuuundred! Ready or not, here I come!” I called out. She opened and closed a lot of doors. She must have hid in a closet. She wasn’t giggling like she usually does. Maybe she fell asleep waiting, or got mad waiting for me. I don’t know, but I put on my act just in case. I stomped out into the hallway…

…and the front door was wide open.

I ran and looked out the open door into that hallway. Nothing but a bunch of doors to other apartments. I closed the door and went to the living room closet. She wasn’t there. Kitchen closet. Nope. Under the sink. Nope. My closet, her closet, Ma’s closet, under Ma’s bed, all nothing. I got real scared. Ma’s gonna really let me have it if I can’t find Gracie. My bottom can already feel the paddle.

I ran out into the hallway.

“Gracie! Gracie!” I called out. One of the neighbors told me to shut up. I ran down the stairs.

“Gracie!” I called out again. The old landlady was standing in her doorway, eating some kind of pudding.

“She went out a little bit ago, hon,” she said, pointing to the outside door. “Ain’t your momma home?”

“No, ma’am,” I said. “Ma’s in the office.”

“Mm-hm,” she said, going back into her apartment.

I ran outside.

“Gracie! Gracie!”

I looked left, and then right. The street was empty. There wasn’t anyone walking out. It was too hot. There was a parking lot next to our building, so I looked there first. Not a lot of cars. Everybody’s out to work or something, so there weren’t a lot of hiding spots. I looked, but she wasn’t in any of them.

“Hey!”

The landlady called me to the outside door.

“Your momma’s on her way. You better go find your sister,” she said.

“Where did she go?”

“Don’t know, hon, but you better be lookin’,” she said.

“Oh, no…” I said. So, I ran. I ran down to the corner, watched for cars, crossed the street, and kept running. I slowed down by another parking lot. Ma told me I better watch for cars or I’d get knocked into next week. I saw that happen to somebody. I waited to see them next week and the week after, but they never showed up. I don’t want to end up like that.

Then I saw it. A candy wrapper. It looked like one of the ones Pete would slip us. I smelled it, and it smelled kinda good still. It felt a little wet. I think somebody licked it. And then I saw another down the sidewalk. And another. And another. It was a trail of candy wrappers. Looked like there was some in the street, too. They was leading somewhere. And so I started running again, following the trail. I picked up each wrapper along the way. This went for a couple of blocks, and then it ended, right in front of Pete’s.

There are a lot of tall buildings around with lots of apartments, but Pete’s was a house with a garage. He turned the garage into his little store. Lots of people normally come by to buy something from him, but it’s too hot today. Ain’t nobody around. Pete was sitting at his counter with a fan blowing in hairy face.

“Oh, it’s Hank!”

“Hi, Mr. Pete,” I said, trying to catch my breath. I bent over and coughed. Pete pointed his fan at me. It felt good after running in that heat. His store was full today. There were shelves of chips and sweets and drinks and other stuff. My belly growled hard. Pete put a trash can in front of me, so I threw the candy wrappers away.

“Looking for a snack?” he asked, laughing.

“No, sir,” I said, still breathing hard. “No, sir. Gracie. Did Gracie come by here?”

“Oh, your sister? She’s fine! She’s inside having a snack!” He laughed some more. “Why don’t you pick yourself something out? Get a drink, too. I’ll put it on your mom’s tab.” He winked at me.

“Ma’s coming home. I need to get Gracie,” I said.

“Now, now, don’t you worry. Hey, take a look at this!” He got up from behind his counter. He grabbed my shoulder with one of his massive hands, and then he pulled me over to a box with little bags. The box looked new. The bags said “fried pie” on them. I could smell them.

“Just got these in today. They make the dough and pie filling at the factory, put ‘em in a fryer until they’re nice and crispy, and then coat them in a sugary glaze. They’re something else, and I got a nice, cold Coke to go with it. You’ll have that down in no time.”

I shook my head yes. That sounded amazing. I really wanted that.

“Now, don’t you worry about your momma. I’ll be watching over you two and explain everything to her when she comes by,” he said, laughing.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, Mr. Pete.”

“Don’t you worry about it, Hank. Here,” he said, handing me a fried pie. He led me to the fridge and handed me a cold Coke. He then pointed to the door to his house.

“Go on in,” he said. I was so hungry, I couldn’t wait. I went to the door and opened it carefully so I didn’t drop the Coke or the pie. I stepped in, and then there was this big pain in the back of my head.

-----

I woke up. I didn’t know how long I was asleep, but it was much later. Probably sunset. I was on Pete’s kitchen floor. I don’t remember falling down or going to sleep, only that I had a Coke and a fried pie. I looked for those, but they weren’t there. The back of my head hurt real bad. I felt around. It was kind of sticky. I don’t think it was that pie, though. It didn’t smell like it. I think it was my blood.

Past a door was the living room. It was hard to see in the setting sunlight, but I could make out Pete. He was crouched in front of a fireplace. There was a fire lit. He looked like he was sweating from all the heat.

“You keep behaving, and I won’t have to hit you again,” he said. “You’re gonna fetch a good price.”

He laughed, but this laugh made me shiver. He wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at someone else, someone who was next to him. There was a moan, like someone who wanted to cry. He was fiddling with something, and then he had a shirt in his hands. It was Gracie’s! He threw it into the fire!

“What did you do to my sister?” I yelled. He jumped to his feet like he was ready for a fight.

“I think you need another nap,” he said, getting a bat. It looked like a bat, but a little smaller.

I got up and ran into the living room. He brought that bat down on me, but he missed. I got something from a bin next to the fire, a little shovel. He swung his bat again. He hit my back. It hurt. It hurt a lot. It was hard to breathe. He swung again. I made myself move out of the way. I grabbed that little shovel with both my hands and swung it hard, not thinking too hard where it might land. It struck him right under his belt just as he tried to swing at me again. He cried out, and then he tripped and landed head first into his fire.

I never heard a person scream so loud in my life. His arms flailed, flinging burning wood into his living room. The room started to smoke up. Some of the paper lying around caught fire, and the curtains, and the couch. Lying in the middle of the floor was Gracie, without her shirt. It looked like someone punched her a bunch of times. Her eyes were black, blacker than our skin. There were bruises and rashes all over.

“Gracie! Come on!” I said.

“I can’t. It hurts,” she said. I picked her up the best I could and got out to the garage, and then through the shelves of Pete’s food. And then we made it outside.

“Henry James!” Ma yelled. “What–Gracie Joy! Who did this? What happened?”

“It was Pete, Ma! Pete tried–”

“You’re dead meat, kids!” Pete yelled. Black smoke came out of his house as he stumbled out. His hairy face was now red and burnt, and some of his body, too.

“What happened to you, Pete?” Ma said.

“These little shoplifters–”

“Shoplifting?” she said, looking at Pete like he was crazy.

“He burned Gracie’s shirt in the fireplace! He beat her up!”

“What?” she said, glaring at him with the full wrath of God.

There was a gunshot. A policeman stood in the street, and the pistol he shot up was now pointed at us.

“Nobody move,” he said. Another cop was in their car on the radio. There were sirens approaching.

-----

It was after dark when we got home. Ma held Gracie in her arms as she led us in, turned on the lights, and closed the door.

“Go fill the bath, Hank,” she said.

I looked down. I knew what was coming and I just couldn’t wait for it anymore.

“What’s the matter, son?” she said.

“Aren’t you going to paddle me?” I said.

“Why would I do that?” she said.

“‘Cause I lost Gracie, and then all this happened, and Mr. Pete…”

Ma laid Gracie down on the couch, and then she knelt down and held me. I cried.

“This all started because Gracie snuck out,” she said.

“But…I could have paid more attention,” I said.

“We could all do better. Be thankful that you both made it out okay,” she said. She didn’t say anything for a minute, and then she let me go, held my face, and wiped my tears with her thumb.

“Ain’t enough paddles in the world to replace what happened today. Mr. Pete was an evil man who did evil things. You don’t understand the half of what just happened, but you will, and there won’t be enough paddles in the world to replace that.”

“Ma, Gracie’s all beat up,” I said.

“And you rescued her. You took responsibility. You looked for her, found her, and even after Mr. Pete fooled you, you wisened up and fought him for your sister. You know where you screwed up, and you took responsibility. Son, you don’t need the paddle.”

“I’m sorry, Ma.”

“I’m sorry, too, son. If things were better, I could be at home, and none of this would happen. It ain’t fair, but it’s what we got. You might not feel it right now, but you did good. Now go fill the bath. We need to clean Gracie up.”

“I’m hungry,” I said.

“When we all get cleaned up, we will go to the diner,” she said.

“Really? Yeah!”

Maybe I was too happy about it, but Ma didn’t shush me like she usually did. She said I already grew up a little too much. My bath felt good, like a bath never did before. The burger and shake was real good. I slept hard that night.

I miss Pa. I wish he’d kick Mr. Pete.

But he ain’t here.

[maybelinefox]

2003 Lighthouse AU Chapter 1: First Meeting

This is inspired by @beebopurr 's Rise lighthouse au, and you should definitely go see theirs for yourself. I love their art! The first meeting in this chapter is taken almost directly from theirs as well as an ask they got. The rest is from me.

TW: mentions of guns and the use of them and an injury caused by one in this chapter and the next. Weapons (mostly guns) will be a continuing plot point that will eventually lead to the usage of one in the last chapter that will result in a major injury, but no death. If you don't want to see that, don't read. Minor swearing throughout the story as well.

Here it is on AO3:

Thank you @wendigomahana for beta reading!

Chapter one under cut!

I take a deep breath before stepping off my boat onto the pier. From a distance, the only thing I could see of this island was green. Now that I'm up close, I still only see green, aside from the giant-ass rock cliff the lighthouse is sitting on. I've never seen this many trees gathered in one place in my entire life.

I can't tell if it's gorgeous or intimidating.

I probably shouldn't do any exploring until I've studied a map of this place or something. Knowing me, I'd get lost in like ten minutes.

Once I reach the walkway leading off the pier, I look back up at the lighthouse to see a person walking out of it. He waves, and I wave back. Looking back down to the ground, I see the walkway leads to a path curving up onto the rock. I shove my hands back into my pockets as I follow the trail.

"You're a couple hours early," the man states as I reach the entrance to the cliff.

"I purposefully overestimated my arrival time in case the ocean tried to pull me back. Or in case I forgot how to sail."

He nods, breaking a smile. "Well, I s'pose that makes sense. You sail much?"

I shake my head. "Just got that boat a couple months back. Haven't been able drive one myself much lately, but I practically grew up on the water."

He chuckles and looks out towards the pier. "Certainly looks a lot better than my old dingy. Haven't used that thing in a few years 'cept for reef fishin. Hope it still works."

His shoulders move in a near silent chuckle as he turns towards the lighthouse.

"Already got all my stuff packed up. Friend a mine came and got the bigger things last week. Place should be cleaned out for ya, 'cept the bare essentials and furniture it came with. All of which 'sides the food is pretty old. Most of it's been here longer than me."

He gives me a tour of the place, which entirely consists of four and a half rooms. The main living area with a kitchenette, a bathroom, and a small storage closet all on the bottom floor, and then a curved set of stairs leading up to the bedroom. The stairs keep going up to the top of the lighthouse where the main workspace is, and then up to the light itself.

"And that's the whole building," he states with a shrug. "Not much, but they don't really expect one person to need more than this, I guess. Here, let me show you how all this works."

After about a half an hour of him going over all the rules and procedures and showing me what all the knobs and buttons do as well as how to work the phone and radio, we head back downstairs. Over the next hour or so he shows me a few chores that need to be done a certain way, and then goes over the rest of the chores that are pretty self-explanatory. Then, we find ourselves standing in the living room again.

"Well, I guess that's it," he starts as he turns to take one last look at the inside of the lighthouse. "Ya know, when I first got here, it only took me a couple months of boredom to become so done with this place I wanted nothing more than to leave it. Now…" he takes a deep, sentimental breath and shakes his head fondly. "Now I really think I'm gonna miss this."

"You can come back to see the place whenever you want," I tell him with a small smile. "Just keep in mind I took this job 'cause I'm a major introvert, so I'd like to be warned at least a few hours in advance, if ya could."

He chuckles. "I will certainly take that offer into consideration. And honestly, I may just take ya up on it within the next week or so. Got a feelin I'm gonna be homesick real soon. And this ain't even my home anymore."

"Where ya going?"

"Oh, I'm stayin with a friend a mine till I can find me a place. Gonna be doin nothin but house hunting for a bit now. Sure I'm ‘onna get bored with that pretty quick."

I smile. "Yeah, I can imagine."

He looks around one last time.

"Well, I s'pose I should get outta your hair now. Let you get yourself all comfortable and set up and all. Do ya need anything before I go?"

"What did you say your name was again, sir?"

He reaches his hand out for a handshake, and I take it.

"You can just call me Phil, little lady."

I shake his hand.

"It was nice meeting you, Phil."

"You as well, Ayla."

He turns to leave the building. Then, like he forgot something, he pauses and turns back to me, pointing towards something leaning against the wall next to the front door.

"Almost forgot, I'm leaving ya that rifle there, just in case."

"In case a what?"

He turns fully towards me now, eyebrows furrowed to show his seriousness.

"There's things out here. Don't know what they are, but they ain't human. Only seen one clearly once. Big green thing, walked on two legs, something wrong with its back. Now, I dunno what that thing was, but I sure as hell wouldn't let it get close enough to find out if I were you."

He walks towards the gun bag, unzipping it to show the rifle inside. A Marlin. Ruger-made.

"Ammo for it is on this shelf here right above it. I've shot at them with it a few times. They don't get much closer than the trees no more, but best to keep using this to teach them not to get closer. I got it all nice fer ya in it's bag, but it'd be smarter to keep it loaded and ready to grab at moment’s notice."

He gestures towards the door, hand still on the gun.

"Pretty sure I hit one a them last week. Not sure where, but I saw blood splatter on the ground the next morning. It's probably bled out somewhere, so hopefully that's one down."

He leaves the bag unzipped and walks back over to me.

"I've called people to deal with them. They got one a them, so they told me a few years back. But there's more, and those people come by every once in a while to try again. So, in case ya ain't feelin too safe, there’s no need to worry."

I nod, not sure whether to take this seriously or not. At least it's a nice gun.

"I'll keep that in mind."

He nods, satisfied, then turns back towards the door.

Standing near the edge of the cliff, I wave at Phil as he readies himself to pull away from the pier. At least we discovered the engine still runs, so he won't need to call someone to come get him.

Nice guy, but I got this job to be alone. Didn't want to have to wait a few more hours for someone to get here to tow his boat.

After I'm sure he's far from the island, I turn back towards the lighthouse. I'll get my stuff from my boat tomorrow. I've got all the essentials in my bag. For now, I'm exhausted from the trip and would rather just crash.

This lighthouse, like almost every other lighthouse in the country, is automated. Phil already did all the daily chores before I got here, saving the ones that needed demonstration for last so he could show me how to do them, so nothing to worry about until tomorrow.

The next week is pretty much just me getting the hang of things. The biggest of the chores is keeping the lens and windows in the tower clean so the light isn't any dimmer than it should be at night, as well as keeping an eye on all the electronics to make sure none of them are busted or wearing out or need replacement. Honestly, I'm already starting to understand what Phil meant by boredom. There's not much to do around here. I'm almost wishing I was living a few decades ago, when lighthouse keepers had way more to do without all the automated electronics. When they actually controlled the light and had to remain focused on their task. There's really nothing for me to focus on now.

I also haven't seen those "things" Phil was talking about. My first night, I thought I saw something moving around in the trees at the base of the rock, but I was so exhausted that night I wouldn't be surprised if I was delirious enough to think something moving in the wind was a monster. Or worse yet, maybe I was hallucinating. But after I got some sleep, everything was normal.

The second week begins just about the same. Chores about a third of the day at most, then finding ways to entertain myself for the rest of the time. I've begun researching hobbies that can be easily practiced on an island just a few miles from the mainland.

I get supplies delivered to me once a month. They take a list from me of essentials only, such as certain foods I like, what brand of toothpaste I prefer, etc., as well as anything anyone on the mainland wants to send me. If I want to order something online, I have to have it sent to someone I trust on the mainland, family or friend or whatever, and have them take it to the people loading the supply ship. Or just have them bring it to me themselves in their own boat. So basically, if I want a material hobby, like knitting or some other kind of crafty thing, I have to go through multiple channels just to get the supplies for it. So it'd be best to take up something I can do on the island with the bare essentials, just to avoid the hassle. 

By this time, I've set up a comfortable chair on the cliff behind the lighthouse, overlooking the water. I've spent the last couple nights sitting out on this chair for a while to watch the waves.

It's on one of these particular nights I'm looking out over the water and watching the lighthouse light gleam across the sky in the distance, thinking on maybe taking up fishing again, when I hear something thud against the rocks beneath me.

I sit up straight, listening to see if I can figure out what that was before I have to investigate.

Or if I even want to investigate.

Not long after the initial thud, I hear what sounds like a groan, followed by a whimper and some thrashing in the water.

Shit.

Quickly, I grab my lantern, (extra strength, battery powered, obviously), and rush back inside to grab my med kit. 

Something alive is down there, and probably hurt pretty bad by the sound of that thud.

I make my way down the path to the base of the lighthouse rock as quickly as I can before darting towards the water. Once I turn around the base to see the rocks beneath the lighthouse, I freeze.

There, leaning up against one of the larger rocks, is....

Something....

I can't tell what I'm looking at. The light from the lantern is barely hitting it, but I can see what looks like...green...scales? I can't tell, but it doesn't look like normal scale-less human skin. It's humanoid, but I'm not sure I'd call it human. And its back is...huge…

The second the light hits it, the creature whips its head towards me. I see what looks like brown eyes before they go completely white. They still look open, but there's some kind of...inner eyelid? I think? Covering them. Its head is a bit rounder than a human head normally is, and it looks naked, but there's something of a much lighter greenish color covering it in the front. And there's something wrapped around it, but I can’t really tell from here what it is.

Once it sees me, the creature quickly slides backwards to get away from me, but ends up trapped against the rock behind it. From the direction of the trail left by whatever it's trapped in, (I think it might be a fishing net?), it looks like it hit one of the smaller rocks closer to where I'm standing and pulled itself into an alcove created by the larger rocks further away. So it can't jump into the water and the cliff rock is too close to the rocks it's leaning against to be able to squeeze through.

It's trapped.

It seems to realize this after quickly turning to examine the rock it backed into, and whips its head back to me with wide, fearful, inner eyelid covered eyes. 

I step a bit closer, allowing the light to cover more of the creature. The opening of the fishing net it's trapped in seems to be hooked over its neck. The netting is ripped and wrapped around its left arm and back, trapping the arm against its chest. The rest is dangling off, trailing out into the water and around the rocks.

I take a deep breath and step closer, causing the creature to curl up defensively against the rock. I hold up my med kit.

"Hey," I say, trying to sound as calm and soothing as possible. "I'm not gonna hurt ya. I'm here to help, actually."

The creature turns its head slightly, towards the med kit. I can't see where it's looking with its eyes all white like that, but I can see something akin to recognition crossing its features before it seems to look back to me. It doesn't move, though.

I take another slow step closer. It still doesn't move. After a couple more steps, it suddenly decides to use another tactic to protect itself.

Unfurling itself, the creature crouches on its three available limbs and looks up at me with its teeth bared. The strangest, most menacing clicking noise I've ever heard escapes from its throat, and I immediately freeze in place.

When it sees that method had an effect, it takes what I can only assume by its still fearful face is something it believes to be a bold risk, and takes a step towards me.

Now I'm the one who doesn't move despite a terrifying, unknown creature advancing on me.

It snaps its teeth at me and clicks louder, stepping towards me again, but I can see that its resolve began waning when I didn't back away.

Making a bold move myself, I step towards it again.

It stops moving and flinches backwards a bit, causing a hiccup in the clicks.

"I want to help," I say again, holding up and pointing to the med kit. "This will help you feel better. I'm sure that net around you is painful."

It seems to understand some of my words, because it stops clicking and tilts its head as if it's listening. Now that there's more light on it, and in its current crouched position, I can clearly see what looked so strange about this creature's back.

It's got a shell. Like a turtle shell. That must be what's on its front, the plastron of the shell. And the sounds it was making just adds to that fact to tell me what's happening here, impossible as it may seem. 

This thing is quite literally a giant, humanoid turtle.

I'm suddenly reminded of the description Phil gave me of those monsters he was talking about, and I begin to wonder if maybe he truly wasn't crazy, or if I'm already going crazy myself.

After a moment, the turtle creature straightens back up just a bit, sitting back on its legs and raising its functioning arm up off the ground about an inch or so, resting its elbow on its knee. It stares at the box.

"...help...?" It says slowly, curiously, in a raspy voice that obviously hasn't been used much.

I feel my eyes widen a little in shock. I don't know what I was expecting when I spoke to it, but apparently I wasn't expecting it to speak back.

"Y-yes," I say, taking another slow step forwards. It doesn't move back, but its head slides down slightly, as if it's watching my feet move. "Yeah, I want to help. I'm gonna see if I can get that net off ya, then this box has stuff in it I can use to fix your wounds."

I speak slowly, because I don't know what it can and can't understand. Hearing myself talk, I weirdly begin wondering if maybe it understands perfectly, and just doesn't need to talk, hence the raspy voice. So perhaps me speaking slowly and trying to use simple words is only being condescending. I shove those thoughts out of my head in favor of focusing on the situation at hand, deciding that if proof arises that this turtle thing does understand perfect English, I'll immediately start speaking to it normally.

The creature watches my slow approach, though now it holds just as much curiosity in its gaze as fear.

Once I'm almost within reaching distance of it, it falls backwards and pushes itself up against the rock again.

"Can...get it....no help...." It says slowly, reaching up with its free hand to grab the net around its other arm.

"Don't do that," I crouch down next to it, but it jerks away from me.

"No help," it says again, more firmly this time.

"You could hurt yourself doing that," I say, reaching into my pocket to grab my knife. "Let me get it,"

"No."

The turtle pulls on the net.

I reach out and grab its hand.

Jumping in surprise, it lets go of the net and turns towards me. Then just as suddenly, it's eyes screw shut in pain and it hisses, free hand shooting up to grab its neck where the net is hooked.

I sigh, figuring what probably happened, and bring the knife out of my pocket, holding the lantern up to see better.

Its eyes open, then immediately squint in the light.

"Here, can you hold this right here?" I ask, holding the lantern a bit closer to its free hand.

It turns its head to see me better as its hand comes up to grab the lantern. Unfortunately, in doing so, it sees the knife.

It gasps as it flinches backwards, it's hand shooting into the water behind it to support it leaning away from me.

"Oh shit-" I blurt out in realization as it uses its hand to scoot into the adjacent rock a couple feet away.

"Wait," I stand back up, adjusting the med kit on my back, hoping it didn't touch the water when I was crouched. "I need it to cut away that net. It's not gonna come off by pulling at it. I promise I'm not trying to hurt you."

"Bad men use," it states fearfully, pointing towards the knife. "Bad men hurt us with sharp thing."

Ok, so it seems to be capable of full sentences, weakly formulated as they are.

I sigh, stepping closer only a little and holding my hands up as open as I can while holding the lantern and knife.

"I'm not the bad men. I want to help. Knives can be used for good things too."

Staring wide-eyed at me, it slowly brings its hand back towards the net, gripping it but not pulling.

"That hurt you, remember?" I say, pointing with my lantern hand at the net. "Don't pull on it. This can get it off of you without hurting."

The turtle shrinks in on itself a little, staring at the knife. Its gaze slowly shifts over to me, and after a few moments of staring, it slowly nods.

"Ok," it says quietly. "No hurting...."

"No hurting," I repeat, slowly taking the couple steps necessary to get to it.

I crouch down next to it again and hold out the lantern for it to grab.

"Can you hold this for me? It'll make it easier for me to take the net off."

The turtle slowly reaches up and gently takes hold of the lantern handle, fingers brushing mine. That's when I notice it only has three. And they are indeed covered in scales. Very smooth, soft, green scales.

I try not to think about how strange that felt as I let go of the lantern.

"Now, just keep it right there, ok? This hopefully won't take long."

The turtle nods, keeping its white eyes trained on me, but it feels like its actual eyes are glaring at the knife.

Slowly, so it can see everything that's happening, I move the knife to sit underneath the net, blade pointed up, and begin sawing away, using my other hand to anchor the net in place. It doesn't take long before the thickest part of it is cut, taking most of the tension off the turtle's neck.

The second that tension is gone, the turtle sighs in relief, leaning back a little like it's deflating as the stress leaves the muscles of its shoulders. It keeps watching, though.

I cut away a few more pieces of the netting still holding its arm in place, then slowly reach up to its neck as I put my knife away. The turtle tenses up again, not sure what I'm doing and once again fearful of my intentions.

"I wanna look and see what it did to your neck," I explain. "It hurt you, so I wanna make sure you're not bleeding."

It flinches slightly away from my hand, then looks down at the net now in the water and its newly freed arm. After a moment, it looks back up at me and slowly nods.

I slowly place the tips of my fingers on its face and turn its head towards me to give me a better view of its neck. I can feel its hidden eyes on me as I lean around it to see the wound better. Luckily, it doesn't look like it's bleeding. At least, not badly. However, the skin (scales?) there has been rubbed nearly raw and there seems to be a small opening where the net sliced into the flesh.

"Ok, that's not too bad," I say. "Let me see your arm."

I release its face and move a bit in front of it so I can see the arm more directly. It raises its left arm, far less hesitant than I expected, and allows me to hold it in my hands. There are a few scratches but nothing major, the realization of which has me letting out a breath of relief. The turtle tilts its head curiously at the sound, but doesn't say anything.

"Well," I start. "It doesn't look too bad. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to get you inside to look at it in better lighting and to bandage you up. Of course, you don't have to if you don't want to, but it would make me feel better to know your wounds are covered. At least the neck one."

What I can only assume to be this hairless creature's brows furrow in confusion at my words.

"Inside?" It asks. "Where?"

I point up to the cliff, where the top of the lighthouse is visible from underneath.

"In there. That's where I live."

It follows my finger, and when its eyes land on the lighthouse, its jaw drops in a light gasp. Unexpectedly, the inner eyelids covering its eyes slide open, revealing my previous assumption of its eyes being brown to be correct. Its surprisingly human-like chocolate irises stare up at the lighthouse in wonder as I watch on.

"In there?" It asks in disbelief.

The more I hear its voice, the more I believe this creature is male. It sounds young, (which doesn't help), with a very soft and somewhat higher pitched voice, but the tone sounds to be more in the masculine area.

"Yeah, in there," I say, slowly standing. "Don't worry, I live alone."

I reach out my hand to help it (him?) up. He turns his head back towards me, and his eyes move to my hand once he sees it hovering in front of him. After a moment of staring, he looks back up at me.

"Can't go there."

Now it's my turn to tilt my head, but more in confusion.

"Why not?"

"Angry man lives there," he explains, looking back down at my hand. "Very loud. Bang stick hurts. Can't go there."

My eyes widen in realization.

Phil told me he kept the "big green thing(s)" away from the lighthouse by shooting at them. He said he hit one last week.

I quickly look the turtle over again, but he doesn't look like he's been shot anywhere. Not anywhere I can see in this lighting, at least.

"Here," I say, holding one hand closer to his right and reaching for the lantern with the other one. "Grab my hand with yours. I'm gonna help you stand up."

He glances between my face and my hand a couple times and waits for me to pull the lantern out of his hand before he slowly moves it towards mine. Gently, his three fingers slide into my five, and we both close our fingers around each other's palms.

I'm suddenly hit with the thought that this guy is probably very heavy. But luckily for me, his left arm is not too injured for him to push himself part of the way, mainly using my grip for stability as he gets himself up.

"That guy left almost two weeks ago," I say as he lets go to test if he can stand on his own. "I live there now, not him."

The turtle, now standing just about eye-level with me, turns to look at me in shock after he's determined he's quite stable on his own two feet.

"Angry man is gone?" he asks, sounding doubtful.

I nod. "It's only me. No one else."

He stares at me for a moment before full comprehension sets in. He then snaps his attention back to the lighthouse and a look I can only describe as pure joy and disbelief lights up his features.

He points up at the building above us.

"I can go in there?" he asks in a quiet voice, seemingly in awe of the concept.

I nod again, smiling. "You sure can. Just follow me."

I turn to lead the way around the rock back to the path. I hear his steps behind me, and a couple jumps in the water as well, as if he were a child jumping for joy at the thought of going into a lighthouse.

I begin to wonder if he is.

A child.

That would explain how young he sounds, and his minor speaking comprehension.

Oh damn. If he's a child, how big will he be as an adult?

All thoughts and worry leave my mind the second my foot steps onto dry land. I cringe at the squelch and the rushing feeling between my toes.

I hadn't really thought. I'd just run out the door. I didn't grab the wading boots. So now my sneakers and socks are soaked.

Ugh, I hate wet shoes.

The turtle doesn't seem to care about the sound of my shoes, however, as his focus remains transfixed on the lighthouse building the entire trip up to it.

Once we reach the door, I pull off my shoes and socks, leaving them outside beside the doorstep to dry, before opening the door and stepping inside to set the lantern down and dry my feet on the doormat. I turn towards the turtle and gesture for him to come inside.

"Come on in," I say as I leave the door to head to the bathroom.

When I come back out wearing dry pants and holding a towel for him, I find him standing at the door still, wide eyes taking in every detail of the living room.

I step towards him, gently grabbing his good arm to tug him inside. My measly pull doesn't move him even the slightest bit, but he gets the hint and steps forward. I close the door behind him and turn to put the towel over his shoulders. Or, I try to. The shell ends up taking most of the coverage.

He turns towards me at the feeling of something touching him, then looks down in surprise to see the towel. I walk in front of the turtle to pull the towel up tighter around his shoulders.

"You can use this to dry yourself off. Like this."

I rub a small part of the towel over his wet arm, then pull it away to show the now dry scales.

He blinks in surprise, then grabs the towel and begins rubbing it over his scales, trying to recreate the magic in other wet areas of his body. I smile at this as I head over to one of the stools at the kitchen counter, pulling it out and turning it towards him. Setting the med kit on the counter, I turn back to see he's already mostly dried himself off.

"Alright come sit here so I can patch you up," I tell him.

He looks away from the bottom of his foot he's currently wiping the towel on and up at me before glancing down at the stool. He uses the towel for one last scrub of his other foot before slowly making his way to the stool to sit down. I step around in front of him as he puts the towel back over his shoulders and hugs it to him as much as he can.

"I'm gonna need to see your arm and neck, bud," I tell him, motioning to the towel. He pouts, but takes it off and bunches it in his lap, hugging it to himself. I make a mental note to get him my warmest blanket after we're done here.

I spend the next few minutes cleaning and dressing his wounds. Mostly the one on his neck. There's only one on his arm bad enough to need to be covered. His neck wound is the most concerning, but so long as it stays clean and covered the scales will probably grow back.

"There," I say, finishing the last one. "That should be better."

He looks down at the bandage on his arm. He hadn't reacted well to the cleaning alcohol used on his wounds, especially when it hit the raw open spot on his neck. But with some gentle encouragement, he had allowed me to continue. I'm not sure if that means he trusts me, but at least he's not afraid of me anymore.

"Can I see the light now?" he asks in a very excited, childish voice.

I glance into his eyes to see them wide open, a hopeful gleam in his irises.

I can't help but smile at the childish enthusiasm.

"Sure, but you have to be careful. We don't want to break it. The light is very important for the ships going by in the water."

He nods enthusiastically, dropping the formerly precious towel as he stands.

On the way up through the bedroom, I grab him a blanket, and he happily wraps it around himself as he walks up the stairs.

The turtle is practically shaking with joy the entire time we're up in the light. He stays true to his promise to be careful, but he apparently took it as "don't touch anything". On multiple occasions, I can see his hands twitching towards some mechanism on the light out of curiosity, before he remembers jerks them away. So, I show him some areas I'm not too worried about him touching, just to help him get that out of his system.

When his hand first touches the cool metal at the base of the lamp, he seems to melt into the touch, entirely in awe of the giant metal beast in front of him. He watches the lamp turn, marveling at the sight.

"Why does it do that?"

"Do what?"

He slowly looks towards me and holds one finger up before moving it in circles, similar to how the lamp spins.

"Oh, the lamp spins to give sailors the impression the light is blinking. Or turning on and off. That way they won't mistake it for a star, and will know they need to go towards it."

"Cool...." He says in an impressed, breathy tone, as he looks back up at the lamp. Then he tilts his head, seemingly confused.

"But..." He thinks for a moment. "It can...blink...itself?" He glances at me, then turns back towards the light, almost shy now.

"Sorry..."

Ah. He's embarrassed by his question.

"That's a good question, actually," I start, and he turns back towards me, blinking in surprise, before a slight smile graces his features.

"Back before they could just screw in a lightbulb whenever the light went out, they used giant lanterns. Those aren't nearly as easy to turn on and off, and would have to have someone sitting by them all night in order to keep it up. So that's why they came up with the spinning thing. The lens magnified the lantern light, and that's what was spun. It moved around the lantern to create the blinking effect."

As I explain, I gesture to certain parts of the lamp that are still somewhat similar, though the whole thing is essentially a giant flashlight. The turtle watches with genuine interest as I answer what he believed to be a stupid question with an entire historical/scientific monologue.

"They did that for so long it became iconic, and what sailors specifically looked for. So some lighthouses, like this one, still spin the light around. Just for sentimental reasons, to be honest."

"Woah...." He says under his breath, genuinely impressed by the reasoning. "That was so smart...."

"It really was, huh?" I look around a moment before an idea comes to me. I head back downstairs to the office area and look around the walls until I find it. Stretching up, I carefully pull the paper off the wall, smiling down at it in my hands before heading back up.

He had turned and stood to watch me when he’d noticed me leaving, and observes me curiously as I ascend the stairs. I hold the paper out to him.

"Do you know what that is?" I ask him as he takes it. His "brows" furrow in concentration as he stares at it.

"A....old....lighthouse?" He asks, unsure. He looks up at me and tilts his head.

"Yep. It's the first lighthouse. Or what they believe is the first lighthouse."

His eyes widen in excitement, and he looks back down at the drawing.

"There's a few different designs of what they believe it looked like, but that's the most agreed upon. The thing is in ruins now, so there's no way to be sure."

He listens to my words before pointing at a few written on the page.

"Pa...pa-ras?" He tries to pronounce the word above the building on the paper.

Ok, so he can kind of read. Interesting.

I point to the letters of the word.

"'P' and 'h' together make an 'f' sound, and that's an 'o', pronounced just like that." I don't wanna move too fast and try to explain the accent it should be pronounced with, so I stick with the basics. That should get him to pronounce it almost exactly.

He stares for a second longer before trying again.

"Pha...ros?"

"Yes!" I say, and he smiles at the praise.

"Pharos was built in Alexandria, Egypt. They think about twenty-five hundred years ago or so. It's the first known lighthouse, so everyone who studies or works in lighthouses are called 'pharologists' in honor of the first one."

He looks back up from the paper and points at me.

"You?"

I chuckle. "Yes, that would make me a pharologist too, since I work in a lighthouse and have studied how they work."

He beams at this information. "Cool!"

He asks a few more questions about lighthouses and the mechanisms of the light itself, and I do my best to answer all of them. After about half an hour, he begins slowing down. I notice he looks at the bandage on his arm a few times. Then he goes silent for a bit, staring out the window at something in the trees and pulling the blanket tighter around himself. I look out too, trying to see if I can find what he's looking at, but I just see trees.

Just when I'm wondering if I should question him or just leave him to it, he turns to me.

"Are you a doctor?"

I blink a few times in surprise at the random question, before shaking my head.

"If you mean a medical doctor, no. I have some minor medical training, but nothing to the level of an actual doctor."

"But you can fix...uh...wounds?"

"If they're not bad enough to need a hospital, yes. Why?"

“Hos...pital…?”

“It’s a place where sick or hurt people go to get better. The real doctors are there.”

He stares at me for a moment, seeming to contemplate something. Then he looks back out the window.

"We need a doctor...." He says quietly, almost too low for me to hear.

This is the second time he's referenced there being more of him. Phil had spoken as if there were multiple, so I had automatically been thinking like there were. But now that I'm actually thinking about it, I begin to wonder if there's like a whole tribe of them, or if it's just a single family. And if he's a kid, then what do the adults look like? Would they be more wary of me than this one?

"Do you need me to go somewhere?" I ask, almost hoping he says they can bring the injured party here. If there are bigger and far more untrusting and protective adults out there, I'd rather not risk going into their territory.

He turns back to me.

"He hurt to move. Sleep all day. Hurt when he's awake. Not eat much anymore."

"So, you don't think he can come here?" I ask.

He looks down to think for a moment, then shakes his head.

"Can't move."

"Ok..." I cross my arms in contemplation. "Do you know what's wrong with him? How he got hurt?"

At that, the turtle looks back up at me, and upon seeing me his eyes widen in some kind of realization before he flinches backwards.

Oh, he's scared of me again. What did I do?

I back up a step, holding my hands out.

"Are you ok? I'm sorry if I-"

"Human…" he says, wrapping his arms and the blanket around himself. "Bang stick...."

Oh....

OH.

The one Phil shot is still alive.

"Where?" I ask.

He looks back at me, confused.

"Where did the bang stick hit him?" I ask again.

A different kind of realization passes over his features, and he moves the blanket to raise his left hand and points to a spot on his right arm. Just below the elbow. Then he moves his finger across his scales from one side of the outer arm to the other, drawing a line.

So the bullet grazed him, but left a sizeable enough gash. That gash probably became infected.

Damn. That infection’s probably been raging for over two weeks. I'm almost shocked the arm hasn't fallen off. Unless it's already spread up further. Cutting the arm off to save the body is probably out of the question now, as it's highly likely it's already reached organs. There's no way he'd be able to survive much longer without antibiotics.

Of which I'm not exactly in rich supply.

Also, these are turtles. They have a different form of healthcare in certain areas. I know a lot about turtles, but I'm trained in human medical health. I wouldn't be too confident I'm doing the right thing if you threw a heavily injured turtle in front of me.

"Is it swollen?" I ask. I know the answer, but I'm hoping he can tell me it's not as bad as I think.

He makes a curious sound, almost like a chirp, as he tilts his head.

"His arm," I gesture towards my arm, then hold my hand open around it to signify a bigger size. "Is it bigger than it should be?"

He nods and makes a similar gesture himself to show how much bigger.

Ok, not too much bigger, I suppose. But then again, I can't actually be sure until I see for myself.

"Ok, let me get some stuff."

This definitely can't wait until morning. If he's had an infection in his arm since it was shot, every second counts.

I grab up my med kit as well as any and every antibiotic, painkiller, and anti-inflammatory I can find and throw them in a separate bag along with a few bottles of water and some clean rags. Stopping to think for a moment, I decide to bring some strong sleeping pills too. Just in case surgery or something painful of the sort ends up needing to happen. On that note, I grab multiple sharp objects of differing sizes to throw in the second bag as well.

This is really gonna suck.

Leaving the storage closet, I find the turtle blanketless and standing in the living room, staring at the door.

I should really find a name for him. Or maybe ask him and see if he's already got a name.

"Hey," I start, walking up to him. "So, I can't believe I haven't already asked you, but do you...."

I trail off as I notice his attention has not turned to me, and he's still staring at the door. Following his gaze, I freeze when I realize what he's staring at.

The gun is still by the door.

I debate whether I should try to pull his attention away from it or go over and physically move it.

Sighing, I figure touching it would make things worse.

"It's not gonna hurt you," I say softly.

He slowly turns to me.

"It hurt Mikey."

Mikey.

Ok, so they do have names.

Interesting.

"That's because the guy holding it wanted to hurt him," I say. "It can't hurt anyone unless it's being held by someone who wants to use it to hurt people."

Slowly, I move towards it. I hadn't closed the bag, so it's still leaning against the wall halfway exposed. Reaching out, carefully, so he can see what I'm doing, I grab the zipper and zip up the bag so the rifle is no longer visible.

"Now, no one's holding it, so it won't shoot. It won't hurt you. And it's gonna stay here. I'm not intending on bringing it with us."

Unless....

I look back at him.

"Is where we're going dangerous?"

He tilts his head. "Why would it be?"

I think for a moment on how to explain, and settle on: "It's probably not dangerous for you, but is it dangerous for me?"

He stares for a moment, thinking, before shaking his head.

"I'll be with you. They'll have to let you in."

Ok, ominous, but I'll take it.

"Then it'll stay here."

I move away from the gun to open the door.

"Why bring it to danger? That would make the danger worse?"

He steps around the gun bag to get through the door, giving it a wide berth and staring at it the whole time like it might jump out at him.

"Well, while some people use those to hurt, others use them to protect," I explain, closing the door behind us. "If we were going somewhere dangerous for me, I would be able to use that to protect myself. But I trust you to have my back, so no worries."

I also feel if he had that kind of reaction to seeing it, his family may be just as bad or worse if I walk up carrying the thing that put Mikey into such a scary state. It may end up causing the danger to me, whereas if I didn't have it I would be perfectly safe.

He thinks on what I said for a long time, leading me from the lighthouse into the trees, before finally speaking.

"Why can it do both? Why protect from something that hurts with something that hurts? Isn't that what shields are for?"

"Well, remember how I used the knife to help you? It can hurt, but it can also be used to help."

He turns back to me, still seemingly confused, but connecting the dots.

I sigh.

"If whoever is trying to hurt you tries hard enough, you may need to hurt them back to get them to stop."

He stares at me for a moment before going back to his task of leading me through the forest.

He doesn't talk any more after that.

A while later, as we near some kind of grove-looking area with what appears to be a small cave hidden in a thick patch of trees, the turtle stops and turns to me, nearly swinging the lantern into my face with how quickly he spins.

"Is that why?"

"Is that why what?"

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out for a moment as he contemplates his question.

"Is....is that why he hurt us?"

"The angry man?"

He nods.

"Did he think we hurt him?"

I stare at him for a moment, opening my mouth to answer, but ultimately closing it as I try to find the right words. He watches, patiently, waiting to know if he and his family had done something wrong.

I take a deep breath.

"In a manner of speaking, yes. He thought you were going to hurt him, and he wanted to stop you before you could."

"But..." He looks back towards the grove.

"Mikey got too close. He did not hurt angry man. He just wanted to see what angry man was doing. He said angry man was tearing up the lighthouse and he want to see why. Then angry man used the bang stick. Mikey was just watching. He did not mean anything-"

I hold up my hand to stop him.

"Of course he didn't. But the angry man didn't understand. He thought something else was happening. He's the one that misunderstood. Mikey did nothing wrong."

He watches me as I talk, big brown eyes looking about ready to cry.

"What's your name, by the way? I'm sorry I haven't asked."

He sniffles a little, then rubs his eyes.

"D-Donny," he says. "Father called me Donny."

Uh oh.

That was past tense.

Wait, Phil did say one of them was caught a few years ago.

Shit. Are there a bunch of children out here without an adult?

Is there a mother nearby who doesn't talk much, if at all, so she never says names, and that’s why he only mentioned his father?

Is there another type of adult and offspring care system I'm unaware of happening here?

…am I in danger and Donny doesn't know?

I shake my head, just barely enough so Donny doesn't see.

"Ok, Donny," I say, hopefully in a soothing voice. "My name is Ayla."

A small smile appears.

"Hi Ayla."

I chuckle.

"Let's not think about the angry man right now. Mikey needs help, right?"

Donny nods quickly, turning back to the grove.

Masterpost Next

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Anyone remember this WIPpet? It got scrapped with the last attempt at the self-insert shenanigans, but I liked it so much I wanted to keep it. Thankfully, I found a way to rework it into the new version :) Plus some fun digs at myself because I am very much not a combatant and yet I'm throwing my SI into combat, lol

765 words of me-the-author having fun under the cut :D

~

"It's a good thing she had Knell to hold her together," Cuff said, caught somewhere between sneer and laughter. "She could never have survived long enough to get to Cipal otherwise."

"Should we step in?" Frey asked, trying not to wince when the zombie swiped Bobbi across the face with its claws.

"Are you joking? This is prime entertainment!"

"You don't think this is any funnier than I do," Frey retorted, and grabbed Bobbi's bow and quiver. She stayed crouched, torn between letting Bobbi prove herself, and not wanting to watch her new friend get torn apart by zombies.

"It's like watching a puppy tumble down a flight of stairs. Repeatedly." The delight in Cuff's voice made Frey grind her teeth. Asshole.

It didn't get better the longer they watched, either. At least Bobbi had the sense to lure the one zombie away from the group so she didn't pull aggro on the whole horde. And she got a little more confident over time. Still missed more often than she hit, and the few hits she did get in were paper cuts at best. 

"Do you know what I find fascinating?" Cuff asked a few minutes after Frey settled down cross-legged on the edge of the bluff to watch. 

"Hm?" Frey asked, only about halfway paying attention to him.

"Knell."

If Frey was a cat her ears would've perked up. "What about her?"

"She is in full control of that bond. There's nothing at all stopping her from stepping in."

Frey grit her teeth, thoughts running around in her head and colliding with each other. "Kinda glad she doesn't, though."

"You're not scared, are you? Not the mighty Tanta Frey?"

"Shouldn't I be? She's another Rheddig weapon. Like you."

"Oh, no, nothing like me," Cuff scoffed. "Nowhere near as powerful, for one thing. Considerably freer, for another. Your new friend is in over her head, and I don't think she knows it yet."

Bobbi slipped and fell on her ass trying to dodge the zombie. Happy accident that it worked; the zombie bowled right past her, and Bobbi scrambled to her feet again. 

"...I meant in regards to Knell," Cuff clarified, almost sheepish.

"What do you mean she's in over her head?" Frey asked, ignoring that last comment. She'd figured as much. 

"Knell is in full control of their bond," Cuff repeated, back on solid ground and sure of his words. "She wasn't cursed into that form like I was. She took it willingly. I've no idea why, of course, but I do find it very odd."

"How can you tell?"

"When you're as old as I am, Frey, you learn how to read and understand the power of those around you," Cuff said, affecting a wise and venerable air. Frey snorted. 

"You're only four years older than me," she reminded him.

"You go ahead and keep believing that." He had that smug tone that made her want to punch him again. "But I'm quite serious, I can tell by the way Knell has bound herself to your new friend that she is the one who set it. Not Bobbi, not a third party. It's quite similar to how I bound myself to you back in Newark."

"New York," Frey corrected, absently. Mostly on reflex at this point. "But weren't you already cursed by the other Tantas?"

"I was. That's why I said it's similar. I was cursed into that vambrace form, yes, but I chose to bind myself to you, Frey. Just as our Rheddig friend has chosen to bind herself to Bobbi."

Interesting. Frey put that information away for later. 

"What's that got to do with..." She gestured to the pantomime of a fight happening below her.

"Simply that I'm surprised Knell does nothing to protect her bearer. She certainly could with no ill-effect to Bobbi. Either how I protect you or by revealing her true form. I wonder why she doesn't."

"Huh." Frey clicked her tongue, now wondering the same thing. "Maybe—"

The zombie raked its claws down Bobbi's back, and Frey spotted a glimmer of light reflected off of something too small to see clearly from where she sat. Bobbi turned, a cry of pain filtered through gritted teeth, and the tip of her sword passed through that glimmer. 

Silver wire erupted from the contact point, pierced through the zombie and shredded it to ribbons that disintegrated on the wind. 

"Oh," Frey and Cuff said at the same time. Bobbi sheathed her sword and shook out her hands, which set Knell jingling enough Frey could hear it.

"...mine's better," Cuff grumbled.

[hopelessromantic5]

I become emotionally attached to these drafts like they’re my children.

Letting them go is always hard for some reason.

Anyway this is a Starchaser post-Hogwarts snippet. Harry is a teenager and James feels like he’s failing every time he tries to comfort his son.

James needs a hug.

Good thing Regulus is on his way back to London.

Thanks for reading. ❤️

James was raising Harry, alone.

After he and Lily decided it wasn’t working anymore, if it had ever worked at all, she moved to Scotland, to be closer to Hogwarts, teaching potions.

When the teenage rage began, Lily wasn’t there.

He could forgive a missed Easter, only a quick pop in on Thanksgiving. Even that one Christmas when Harry was seven, and she firecalled at the last minute explaining that she wouldn’t be able to make it, work was piled up from the end of term.

And at the time, Harry only nodded and asked his mother to visit when she got the chance. She, of course, agreed.

When James needed her most, he was alone. (Minus his discussions with Sirius and Remus, of course. When Harry was in a mood they wouldn’t come near the house, for their own sakes. ‘With all the love in my heart, of course, he’s my godson. Hes just an angsty teenager.’)

It didn’t help that Harry so starkly reminded James of someone that had only existed in his memories for years.

Harry’s mannerisms, his cold shoulder, the completely blank stare he was able to produce, all with Lily’s eyes. It was unnerving at times, frustrating at others. But mostly, it truly sunk in how much James missed him.

They hadn’t spoken since Harry was four. He came for Christmas with Sirius and Remus, as he had every year before. But whatever he saw that night made him decide to never came back.

Never another Christmas after that, never another haphazard owl asking after James and Harry. James noticed he never mentioned Lily in those letters, but he didn’t know what it meant.

And Sirius never mentioned him.

What would James look like bringing that up to him? Obviously they still spoke, if Padfoot were on the outs with his brother, everyone would know.

Harry was fifteen and home for Christmas when James almost caved and wrote to him, until he found out he wouldn’t have to.

His son had been practically mute since James greeted him at the station.

“Hi, stranger.” The proud father greeted with a grin. “How was it?” As his son approached, he could see that the proverbial walls had already been put up, and nothing from the outside world was getting them down.

“I see.” Is all James said to Harry’s vacant shrug. He moved to take Harry’s bag. “I’ll carry this, we’re taking the port-key home.”

Another nod.

Finally, they arrived in the sprawling front yard of the manor.

After finding their balance, and readjusting jostled clothing, neither of them moved to enter.

James was the one to speak into the silence.

“Does it have anything to do with your mother?” He asked, gently, thinking they may have had a row during the term.

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. As Harry just gave him an incredulous look, nearly identical to one he’d seen before, and huffed off into the house. Slamming the front door.

Great. He thought. I’ve really screwed it up now.

Sirius shows up in the floo, two hours later, with Moony in tow. Harry had been locked in his bedroom since they arrived.

James hadn’t heard a peep.

When Sirius stepped through he had a bright boisterous smile.

“Alright, where’s my godson?!” His voice echoed through the manor.

James, rubbing his temples, begging the stress-induced headache to leave him, could only point upwards.

Not two seconds later a door was swung open at hyper speed, then slammed closed.

Quick footsteps made haste on the stairs, and then the boy appeared.

James couldn’t help but sigh in relief. No one could blame a father for worrying when Harry locked himself in his room the way he did.

The sullenness was momentarily put to the side when Harry’s eyes landed on Sirius.

“Padfoot!” Harry beamed.

He raced across the room and tackled Sirius in a hug.

“Godric, you’ve grown a foot and a half since I last saw you.” Sirius always did this. James couldn’t take it away from him when it brought his best friend so much joy to pester.

Harry rolled his eyes in good nature, still smiling.

“You saw me three months ago.” His attention turned to tall figure, leaned on the wall, allowing them space for their moment. He really was the best of them.

Harry seemed surprised to see Remus.

“Alright, Moony? I thought you might be resting.” Ah, James thought, there’s a moon tomorrow night. He’d nearly forgotten.

“I’m fine, Harry. No need to worry.” Remus gave him a reassuring smile, before settling into the cushioned chair by the fire place.

Sirius always looked at Remus with hearts in his eyes. But he seemed to remember very quickly that Harry was standing beside him.

“So…tell me. How’s school? They treating you alright? Cause if not, you know I can find my way in, one way or another.”

James piped up for the first time.

“I think you’re just looking for any excuse to go crawling around our old haunts.” He shook his head chuckling.

Sirius waved him off, still focused on Harry.

Who blanked his face and said,

“I’d rather not talk about school, at the minute.”

Sirius was well-versed. He took it in stride, distracting Harry with anything he could.

“Alright. Do you wanna see the really cool toy Remus brought me from his job?”

“It’s not a toy, Sirius.” Remus sighed. “It’s a heartbeat sensor.”

Sirius ignored him also, which James and Remus share a very affectionate look about. Sirius had loved Harry from the second he laid eyes on him.

“Muggles use when it when they question criminals, to tell when they’re lying.” Sirius whispered conspiratorially.

“I want to see it.” Harry’s eyes were alight with curiosity. James knew that whatever he asked, he’d give him without a second thought. Because he was his son, and he loved him above everything in this world. He wished in that second, for his son to remain so unburdened and happy.

“Jamesy, can my godson come visit for a few hours so I can show him the cool thingamajig?”

James rolled his eyes but smiled at them, with his arms crossed.

“I suppose.” Sirius and Harry celebrated, quietly.

“But have him home before dinner, please.”

“Of course.” Sirius smiled at him, then seemed to remember, “Oh, I have something I need to discuss with you later.”

James’ eyebrows pulled together.

“What is it?”

“We’ll talk when I deliver Harry back home.”

His voice was sober and decidedly not joking.

So James just nodded.

“Alright. You boy’s be careful out there.”

Harry went first. Then Sirius. Then, tiredly, Remus, who smiled sadly at him before he left.

Almost like he knew. Maybe he did. Maybe it could only be known and seen by another soul tortured with loving one of the Black brother’s in secret. Remus knew, because he was James, all the way back in third year. A love slowly, silently growing underneath his robes, taking over every inch of him. Vines crawling right over his heart, encasing it forever.

After Harry returned and went directly back to his bedroom, though with a small smile on his face, Sirius wasted no time.

The three of them settled down with tea in their mugs, and Sirius blurted out.

“Reggie is on his way back.”

James had to fight not to choke on the hot sip he’d just taken.

Had he gone somewhere? Why was he coming back now? Why did he leave? Why did he stop coming? James’ head was spinning with too many questions and absolutely no answers. His mouth was dry.

Oh Godric. Was the room spinning? He thought the room might by spinning? Was he blacking out?

No. Unfortunately, he was very much conscious for this.

“James? Did you hear me?” Sirius asked, raising his voice.

“Yes, I heard you, don’t shout.” James almost flinched. He was already over-sensitive, overstimulated. Just like he knew he would be, when this inevitably occurred.

It was sixth year all over again.

“Well?” Sirius’ eyes watched him.

James flicked his eyes to Remus in a silent plea for help. Remus simply sipped his tea, watching him with curiosity.

What a friend, he was.

“I’m happy, Sirius. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him.” James settled on.

Good, it was true. He was obscenely happy. Just not in the way Sirius might assume, should he be so, outwardly. Of course, he wouldn’t know how to express what’s happening on the inside, other than, perhaps, spontaneous combustion.

“Where was he?”

“I never told you?” Sirius asked incredulously. James shook his head.

No, Sirius never told him, because James never asked. It hurt too much.

“He was in France. He followed Pandora, years ago, when she went over for some divinations thing they have over there. He would write to me, every once in a blue moon.” Sirius smiled softly. “It sounded like he really loved it there. I think he had fun.”

James couldn’t help but mirror his smile. The thought of Regulus actually out there, living a life, having a good time. Laughing and eating good food. Drinking old wine.

James could see it very plainly, and it was a sight out of a dream.

And if anyone deserved it, it was Regulus.

Sirius spoke and interrupted his daydreaming.

“I actually invited him to come with me to Christmas dinner. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind.”

The response came without thought.

“Of course I don’t mind, Pads. He was always welcome.” Before he could overthink it the words tumbled out of his mouth.

“I don’t know why he ever stopped coming.”

The silence afterwards was deafening.

James couldn’t look at Sirius, deciding to stare at the wood of the kitchen table, hoping it would give him answers.

Remus spoke first.

“Maybe you should ask him.”

“I can’t do that. I won’t risk him leaving and never coming back again.” James said, taking a gulp of his now cooled, tea.

“I’ll ask him, then.” Sirius said with a smile on his face that said trouble. It said meddling in places he didn’t belong.

James and Remus simultaneously said,

“No.”

“Let’s just leave it for now.” James offered. “It’s a lot different than the last time he was here. Harry is older. It’s not as…loud as it used to be.”

He would never say what he secretly hoped was the case. Even to himself, because secretly hoping that’s the case means owning up to his years of fuck ups and detrimental miscalculations.

He wasn’t ready for that quite yet.

“Speaking of Harry, do you think we should give him a heads up?” Remus questioned allowed.

“Probably.” Sirius nodded. “I don’t know how much he remembers from…before.”

“I’ll do it.” James blurted on instinct.

They both widened their eyes as if they hadn’t expected it. As if James wouldn’t want to be the one to talk to his son.

He understood why they would think as much. James avoids the topic of Regulus Black like the plague, because he knows he cannot control his expressions to save his life. He knows the misery and the heartache will be written into the lines of his eyes. He should know, he sees them every morning staring back at him in the mirror.

Thankfully, neither of them voiced their surprise, eventually they nodded.

Now James just had to figure out what he was going to say. How did he explain Regulus Black to a boy who probably doesn’t remember him?

[tiannasfanfic]

It’s Over 9000!

Modern AU Eddie Munson x Reader (Fluff)

Rating: General

Author Note: Slightly based on true events. I thought it would make a cute blurb.

Ever since Dustin had saved up enough money to get himself a refurbished PlayStation 4, weekends were mostly spent over at his house in the Henderson’s basement turned game room.

This was how your friends all found themselves picking up a random game that got them interested in a series you had loved for years.

Dragonball.

While you knew it wasn’t the best anime or the most well written, it was your favorite. You absolutely loved it and you didn’t care what the anime elitists thought about that.

However, no one actually knew this about you. You got tired of getting made fun of, so when you moved to Hawkins in middle school, you either didn’t bring up anime at all, or said you weren’t interested in it when someone else brought it up.

While you didn’t necessarily think your friends would make fun of you like others had, you just didn’t want to take the chance. And so, you just sat on the sidelines, watching and listening to them excitedly go in about it without actually chiming in yourself. It hurt a little, but not as bad as the alternative, you thought.

On this particular Saturday, you had to work, so you went straight over to Dustin’s after your shift ended at 6pm. Everyone called out their normal greetings as you came down the basement stairs and Eddie promptly made Gareth move over on the small couch so you could wedge yourself between them next to Eddie. Granted, you were so close you were almost sitting ON Eddie, but neither of you minded.

“Did I miss anything?” you asked, glancing over at the tv.

Three of the younger boys and Steve were sitting on the floor close to the television, all four playing Dragonball Xenoverse 2. You could see they were fighting an adult version of Gohan who had two arms, as well as kid Trunks. You turned your attention to Eddie then, who was slipping his arm around your shoulders.

“Nah, they’re taking turns with quests now,” he said, leaning in to place a kiss on your jaw. “They’re not on the main story yet, so I was actually thinking of slipping out for a smoke. Care to join me?”

You leaned your head back on Eddie’s arm and groaned at him.

“But I just came allllll the way downstairs,” you playfully complained, then wiggled your legs against his. “And I don’t want to move, I just got comphy.”

“And I don’t want Henderson yelling at me when I start making out with you,” Eddie smirked, kissing you on the cheek.

Eddie unwedged himself off the couch, then offered you his hand to help you up. You grinned, taking the offered hand and he pulled you up to your feet.

He entwined his fingers with yours and led you back over to the basement stairs. You glanced over to the television just in time to see the notification that Gohan had been knocked out of the fight, and saw that they were now all ganging up on kid Trunks. That wouldn’t take much longer, judging from his health bar.

Right when you and Eddie reached the foot of the stairs, cheers from behind you indicated Trunks had been defeated.

Then an excited voice came from the TV.

“Hey Trunks! C’mere for a second!”

Recognizing the voice as Goten’s, you stopped with one foot on the bottom step of the stairs. Feeling you come to a sudden stop, Eddie turned back to you, a curious look on his face. You weren’t paying attention to him at the moment though, you were thinking over something.

While the game had gotten everyone into watching Dragonball Z, including Eddie, they had only just started from the beginning a couple of months ago. The last you heard, Goku had just gone Super Saiyan for the first time. While that was a couple weeks ago, you knew they couldn’t have gotten up to the Buu Saga that quickly.

Which meant they had no idea what, or rather, who was about to hit them.

You spun back towards your friends.

“All of you start powering up your Ki right now!” you ordered.

Everyone looked at you in confusion, blinking.

“Why?” Dustin asked. “We cleared the lev-“

“Just do it!” you said, dropping Eddie’s hand to scurry back over to the tv.

The words had barely left your mouth when red exclamation marks appeared across the center of the screen, indicating a new fighter was entering the area.

“DA DADA DAAAAAA!!!”

Everyone blinked at the TV in surprise as the fanfare came through the speakers, including Eddie, who had come over to stand next to you.

“Who the hell is this guy?!?” Lucas exclaimed.

“Super Saiyan Gotenks, here to save the day!” said a singsongy voice from the tv, as if answering him.

“Who?!?” asked four voices in varying degrees of panic.

They took a good look at this new guy, who had a mane of glowing yellow hair and was crackling with energy, and finally started powering up.

It was too late by that point. Your friends were toast.

What followed was the most frantic thirty seconds of fighting you’d ever seen in a video game.

There were cries of dismay as Gotenks quickly wreaked havoc on the party, launching powerful attacks they didn’t have time to block or counter. Between being under leveled and the beating they had already taken from the first part of the fight, they only had a couple of healing items left between the four of them. They couldn’t heal up enough to turn the tide.

Gotenks knocked them out of the battle one at a time, then launched volleys of attacks at the remaining players, keeping them from reviving their fallen comrades. It finally came down to Mike, but he was quickly dispatched as well with a Super Ghost Kamikaze Attack that made everyone but you cry out in surprise.

As the red lettering appeared on the screen indicating your friends were defeated for the Ultimate Finish but still cleared the level, there was a moment of silence.

Then everyone swiveled their gaze to you simultaneously as if you suddenly had a spotlight on you.

“Uh, Y/N?” Dustin asked.

“Yeah?” you said.

“Who was that?”

You were quiet for a moment, looking at each face in turn. They were all looking at you curiously.

“That was, uh, Super Saiyan 3 Gotenks,” you slowly said.

Everyone blinked at you, then looked back at the television before looking back at you.

“What the hell is a Gotenks?” Steve asked.

“Gotenks is Goten and Trunks fused together,” you explained. “They do the fusion dance and it combines them into one ultimate fighter.”

Everyone just stared at you in slack jawed surprise, including Eddie.

While you knew that was quite a bit of information to process, it made your anxiety flare a bit due to past experiences. You didn’t let that show though.

Instead, you smiled brightly at everyone, fished Eddie’s cigarettes and lighter out of his jacket pocket, then started to head back for the stairs.

“You all really need to hurry up and get to the Buu Saga,” you said to them over your shoulder. “That’s when things really start to get wild.”

If Eddie was still wanting a moment alone with you after that, he had another thing coming. Everyone followed you two outside so they could pump you for information on how to beat Gotenks.

Sadly, you really didn’t have much advice for them.

“You guys are just going to have to train more.”

Which was quite fitting, you thought, considering the series in question.

[pbandjesse]

I had a very very busy day! I honestly feel so tired now. And honestly very sore. But that's mostly because I fell down the stairs.

I did not sleep great. The blankets wouldn't lay right and I kept waking up. I did sleep but it just wasn't very good. I don't remember James leaving but I was glad to know they made it home safely when I woke up at 930 and wasn't feeling great but I knew I would feel better if I actually got up.

And I did feel better. I got dressed and I felt cute but also this shirts neck drove me insane all day. I will have to stretch it out next time for sure.

I was very single minded today. Go and get the table. Get paint. Paint bathroom. I couldn't do anything else. I didn't even want to stop and eat breakfast. I grabbed the last cupcake we had and a drink and headed out into the very cold day.

I went directly to second chance. The parking lot was still very icy but I was careful. And went right to the tables.

I found both gate tables. I decided that I would get the lighter table, both because it was slightly cheaper, and because it actually still had it's chairs while the darker one did not.

I had to love a bunch of other chairs to get to the table to see if it was broken. It is missing a part but it is something I can fix so I'm not concerned. A nice man who worked there came over to chat and I told him about the table and that I wanted it so he made a sale sheet for me. And gave me an extra 15% off! So all in all the table and four chairs that nest inside it was $88! I was thrilled.

I knew it would take a few minutes for them to take the table to the dock. So I wandered around a little. I looked at all the sofas but didn't see anything I liked. That was okay. I think we will end up getting the new one from Wayfair but we will see. I'm not in a huge rush about that.

I went and paid for the table and was in a great mood. When I drove my car to the dock the workers were really nice and helped me get it in the car. I wasn't sure if I would be able to pick the table up to bring it inside the house but I would tackle that later.

It was time to get paint! I went back to the first restore that I was at the other day because they had a lot of paint supplies. And I figured it would be cheaper. And it was a great deal. Two pain rolls. A scrapped. A pair roller. An extender stick. And three trays. $12. Amazing.

I went to Home Depot next. I had thought maybe I would get paint at the restore but they did not have the color I wanted. I was nervous about getting paint mixed. I have only done that once and it was at least 10 years ago. But I did it. The girl at the counter was really nice.

I chose a green called clover. And a blue called adventure. I was very dumb and did not remember to bring the paint chips I had the other day so it was a bit of guessing but I think I did a good job. And it wasn't to expensive or even that much more then at the restore.

They did accidently mix the wrong green at first but I'm really glad I noticed that the name was wrong on the can before I left.

I would also get a bucket and some spackle. And then I was off to the new house.

Callie sent me a text and asked if I wanted to hang out. And I was like. Do you want to come to my new house and help me paint?? And she was so down. And I was so grateful for the help.

I got to the house and started bringing some of the stuff inside I had brought. The tools and such. But as I went back to go get the chairs I fell down the stairs!!! When I got there the stairs were really snowy but I brushed it all off and was thinking it was fine but it turns out there was a layer of icy on them and I fell from the top.

Thankfully I did not hit my head but I brushed my leg, back, and arm. And was embarrassed but no one seemed to see me so there was that. I was just a bit shaken up.

I quickly texted Callie to please be careful on the stairs. And told James and Jess I fell. But then I jumped right into my plans for the day.

First thing after I got everything inside I started using tape to map out the furniture and beadboard in the living room. This was very fun for me. And cemented my idea about what will fit in the space.

It took a long time though. Measuring and checking my math and trying to make things straight. But it was fun.

Soon I heard Callie outside and went to get her. And this was the first person I got to show the house and I was very excited!! I was also just excited to see her. And she has the best energy and is always excited when I'm excited and let's me feel more excited. She's great.

I showed her all the different rooms and what I had worked on. And after we had looked all over I got the bucket where I had put all of the paint supplies and we got to work.

I was so happy when she offered to tape all the edges because I was absolutely not looking forward to that and was going to try to get away with not doing it. Which would have been very dumb. While she was taping I was taking off plates and patching holes (poorly, I forgot a hammer and sandpaper) but we were such a good team.

I put on a podcast and we listened to a lot about bad guys during World War Two. I was excited to share a podcast I love with Callie and she really seemed to enjoy it. And we were just s really great team.

The color of the bathroom is not quite as bright as it seems in pictures. It's darker in person. And I think my fairy meadow theme is going to look so nice when it's all done.

Half way through painting I remembered that me and my brother had a green bathroom in the house we lived in when I was a teen. Loved it then and love it now.

After I rolled everything I could, after cleaning up all my splatters and drips, I was losing steam. I told Callie I hadn't eaten and that once we were done the first coat we should go get shake shack. But there was still all the edges to paint.

Callie offered to step in. And she is so lovely for that. She also shared her caramel corn which kept me from getting all low blood sugar shakey. Appreciate her so much.

While she was reaching all the tall parts I collected all the trash and decided to tape off the bedroom too to see how the bed will fit. And it will be mostly bed for sure but I honestly think that will be really nice in the end.

I went and wiped off the table and chairs from the warehouse dust. And put them all together and tried to fix the missing piece with the few things I had. But that will have to be something I fix for real later. But for now at least all the chairs are together and the table it in its temporary place.

I washed the brushes and the roller and we called it good. I was really excited at our hard work. We decided we would take my car and then after we ate we would go back to the apartment to get her painted pottery and the magnet I made her and we would grab a few more things to bring to the house.

And this was a great plan. We each got sandwiches and we shared some spicy cheese fries. Which were not unreasonably spicy like the last ones I got at shake shack. These were good. And I had fun telling her about me and Jess's Disney trip next week. Which I'm so excited for. And it was just really lovely getting to share my excitement with her.

She really is such an amazing friend and I'm so lucky that life brought us together.

We would finish eating and headed to the apartment. She said hello to Sweetp and we collected the boxes of frames and headed back to the house.

The sun was mostly down by the time we got there. We were both being very careful about the stairs. And I was super excited when my neighbor was outside!! Her name is Victoria! She was also using her windshield scraper to scrap the ice off the steps. I hope she is nice, she seems nice. She has a beautiful husky but I did not get its name yet. I hope we can be friends.

Callie would help bring in the frames but then she would be off. Big hugs and we said goodbye.

But I was not ready to be done. So I unpacked the frame boxes. And unpacked all of our magnets. I put most of them in the fridge and I even took the time to use our letters to put "welcome to James and Jesse's house" which made me feel really happy.

The paint can said I could do a second coat after two hours. So since I still had energy I did just that. I got very very hot and ended up taking my shirt off and taking the straps of my overalls down. And just painting topless. There's no windows in that bathroom so who cares. I put on music and painted until around 7. I will have to see tomorrow if it dries down nice but I think I did a good job. Hoping for very little crazy brush strokes anywhere. But I have plenty of paint for another coat if I need it.

I cleaned up and got redressed. And got ready to go. I love our new house and I'm just really happy.

I got home and was beat. My bruises were sore and I was very dirty. I got paint drips all over me and my phone. But it was fine. I took a bath. I washed my hair. And decided it was time to perm my lashes again.

It didn't go amazing but that's okay. The bath was really nice. And while I was doing my second eye James came home. The ravens won the game and James was in a good mood and we both rehashed our days and James reminded me we are going to dinner with their family tomorrow and that's just lovely. It will be nice to see them.

Now I am in bed. And I am hoping that I will sleep better tonight. And tomorrow I hope to move more things over and get some more work done. I am not to concerned though. I really think we are making great progress and Im really proud of us.

Sleep well everyone. I hope you are warm and home. Goodnight!!

[starrypawz]

❝  have you ever had something…missing?  like something just doesn’t feel right inside you but you don’t know what it is.  ❞ for Johnny and Lucas? :eyes:

Prompts AO3 @the-passenger-if

Happy Passenger Game Eve, it's been a fun journey following this game since 2019 and Pime thanks for letting me run amock with your creation as I make my own very niche content from it and hopefully there's much more to come 💜

The voice of the budget Sagan has trailed into silence followed shortly by the sound of the projector winding down. The sparsely populated theatre had been quickly vacated leaving them bathed in silence, alone and the only light the dull glow of the exit sign and the dull lights on the stairs. 

Lucas leans into Jonny’s shoulder. 

“I don’t think they’ve changed that show since I was in 6th grade,” Jonny mumbles and Lucas gives a faint snort. 

“Was that the last time you saw it?”

“No,” Jonny pauses, “Last time I… wasn’t really paying attention to it,” 

“Are you trying to tell me I’m not the first person you’ve taken here to take advantage of the fact it’s a dark room,” Jonny snorts, “No… I uh was you know-” “Oh” “Yeah,” Jonny clears his throat and Lucas gives a knowing chuckle, “Mostly stared at the colours,” squeezes Lucas’s shoulder gently as he pulls him in closer. 

It’s little effort for Lucas to climb over the arm of the seat  into Jonny’s lap and Jonny pulls Lucas in for a kiss and sighs into it as his hands settle into that sweet spot on Lucas’s hips. 

Lucas kisses back, but Jonny finds it… lacking. He’s well aware by this point of the various ways Lucas enjoys teasing but… this doesn’t quite feel like it.

“Lucas?”

“Yeah darlin?”

“You…” He sighs a few potential sentences bubble up and then pop immediately before he settles on, “Ok? I mean are you ok?” 

“I’m,” Lucas pauses as also for him a few potential sentences bubble up and then pop immediately, “I don’t know,”

Jonny tenses up

“I just… I feel kind of weird,”

“Weird?” Jonny catches his lip, “Like sick or?”

Lucas shakes his head, “Just… weird,” 

Weird is probably the understatement of the century. But the word both seems to encompass everything and explain nothing. 

“Do…. Should we get out of here?” Jonny swallows, “Like… need some air?” 

Lucas mumbles a no, shifts position so he’s tucked under Jonny’s chin and sighs softly as he feels Jonny’s fingers slip under the back of his shirt and start running circles on the small of his back. 

Lucas doesn’t even know where to start. His mind is seldom quiet at the best of times (Even on the best days he’s aware of that spot right at the base of hisnothecaket’s skull where the spine comes out and he’s got a grip right there, most of the time it feels like fingers, on a bad day it feels like he’s got the casket’s skull in his maw and then he just needs to bite down and he’ll puncture through and sever everything like in that documentary on lions in a highschool biology class.  Right now his thoughts feel tangled, like that time when the thecasketnohe was five and the Christmas lights had come out and they were tangled up all weird and somehow he’d sat there with Livvy and mom having to untangle them. 

(And Lucas had actually been pretty good at it, and they’d said that “Dad” has been pretty good at it and implied maybe he’d got it from them and Lucas hadn’t known if he wanted to revel in smugness at their ignorance or feel guilty about this whole situation) 

The show had started, a ten minute express tour of the seeming known universe (If only they knew) and as it progressed Lucas had found himself increasingly becoming unmoored whilst watching the cosmos roll on by reminding him of how he’s barely fits into these bones and it makes them ache and how everything here is small, so small not even a tiny dot within the eyes of what he actually is and how by the the time one of those four eyes blinks all of this would’ve been birthed and died and he wouldn’t have even noticed and how everything he feels is dulled but also too much at the same time and… 

“You…” Lucas begins as he grabs onto a stay thought like a lifeline,  “You ever feel like something’s missing?” 

“I…” Jonny pauses, “Is this… a trans thing?”

“No… kind of… not ugh,” Lucas catches his lip as he tries to pull something useful out of his tangled Christmas lights thoughts, “It’s… about everything,” 

“About everything huh?” Jonny huffs.

“Yeah,” Lucas sighs, “Everything just… feels weird sometimes? I guess, I don’t know, like… inside something feels wrong and you can’t quite work out what it is”

“I… I get it,” Jonny offers up with a sigh. 

You don’t A part of Lucas says You really really don’t

The projector whirs back to life and the film grain overlain starfield reappears with a burst of music where someone’s gone a little too heavy on the synthesiser  and the budget Sagan begins its narration of the vastness of the universe and the smallness of this planet he’s ended up on all over again and Lucas clings tighter onto Jonny and Jonny presses a kiss to the top of Lucas’ head. 

“It feels less like it when I’m around you,” Lucas mumbles and Jonny holds him closer. 

Homesick, the word comes to him some time later. 

Homesick.

[comfy-whumpee]

Rory

Introducing Northlight's best friend.

CN: referenced transphobia. @bloodybrambles, @wildfaewhump, @ishouldblogmore, @lektric-whump, @that-one-thespian, @raigash, @paingineering, @whumpywhumper

Nestled between neighbouring shops, painted a colour that was once white, it is a place people in another time would call seedy. Northlight isn’t sure what exactly the word means, but something like dark windows and sticky floors. Not the kind of place they’ll get a free meal for a good story, which makes there no point going, except it’s where she’d be.

Opening the heavy wooden door, they immediately discover stairs to walk down, with a lookout man at the bottom who gave them the up-and-down. Thankfully, this kind of place hasn’t much of a dress code, and all they get is a funny look for wearing a coat and scarf when the weather is so fair.

Permitted to enter, Northlight steps through into a close, dim room. The bar trails across the back wall, giving up halfway along and dissolving into tables and stools. There is a half-hearted dance floor that clearly spends more time with chairs on, and some booths that look like they would eat you.

Northlight could use this place, in a story about secret deals or hidden vagabonds. A story about her.

She sits in a booth, sinking into the cracked leather bench in her cracked leather jacket as though they are one. Is that real leather? Things must be going well for her. She shaved, too, although her hair is just as much as mess as their own, straggles of mousy brunette trailing down her neck.

“Hey,” she says, sounding like she expected nothing less than to see them this evening. She leans back from the table, leaving her notebook open flat beside her drink. “Come here often?”

They slide into place beside her, and she wraps a muscular arm around them to pull them close.

They sigh with a shudder of tension’s release. She’s warm and strong and smells like cinders, and she hugs them firmly with her hand just right on their shoulder blade.

“How many?” she asks, her voice coming from above and within her chest.

“Four,” they tell her.

She sighs. Her hand slips down to squeeze their waist, and they put a hand on her knee. She takes it in her free one.

“What year is it?” they ask.

“1973.”

They swallow. That means Rishi is out there somewhere.

“Anything going on?”

“Couple wars. Democracy is still in. No disasters going on. They still won’t let me be a woman by law.”

They turn to look up at her, head rolling into her shoulder. If only she knew how far the world would go for people like them. If only they could tell her. “How long has it been since I was here last?”

“Decade or so. I’d have to check to know for sure.” She lifts the page of her book. “Last month there was a march. That was groovy.”

“Groovy?”

She grins at them. “Not heard that one?” It’s always a win when she surprises them.

“Is that real?” they ask suspiciously.

“Might be. What are you right now, gender-style?”

“In the middle.” They settle back down against her. Now that they think about it, the bar is mostly women. Woman at the counter. Women watching the TV. A safe place for them to be close, hand in hand. “How’s your fire?”

She exhales sharply. Her voice comes out gruffer. “Building. Summer, you know how it is. Long days, barely any time to get things done, and even when I do get out under cloud cover, they hardly last. I had a surge a couple of weeks ago, though, so I’ve got a bit.”

They squeeze her hand, lowering their voice. “What was the damage?”

She huffs again. She looks away from them, out across the room to where a trio of women are excitedly discussing the sports game on the TV. She considers them wistfully. “Spent a couple days under a rock. Not much rock left, but nobody got hurt. Lost my job by going missing, though.”

They hug her again. She’ll find a good one next year, if they remember rightly. Something artsy. But she can’t know that, and wouldn’t want to. It’s her life, not their story.

“I was reading in the paper a few years ago,” she mutters, and they aren’t sure if it’s secrecy or shame that lowers her voice. “They discovered this…fusion thing. They think it’s what the sun does. It’s more than fire, it’s nuclear. Like the weapons everyone’s got these days. Those things have done incredible harm. There’s a campaign to throw them all away but the people in charge aren’t listening. It’s a new, big gun, and they want the newest, biggest guns.”

Northlight squeezes her arm. “You’ve always got the biggest guns,” they tell her fondly. “That’s future slang. For big strong arms.”

She smiles, giving them a knowing look for trying so obviously to lift her spirits. But she cheers a little. “I’m learning about myself. Science is figuring out some big things. They might find something to help me keep level.”

There’s hope in her voice. They nod supportively, even knowing of her future. Not their tale to tell.

She sighs. “Enough of that. Let me get you some food, and you can tell me what you’ve been up to. Whatever bits you want.”

She gets up, and Northlight watches her stride across to the bartender. The three sportswomen are engrossed and quiet. A pair of friends, or so they guess, are together at the bar with different cocktails before them. It’s the kind of place they’d always find Rory, sometimes clandestine and underground, sometimes open and waving flags in the windows.

She comes back with a bowl of chips lathered in grated cheese. “Here.”

They’re aware of her watching fondly as their eyes light up. Hot food. They dig in without hesitation, and she dips into a satchel at her side and takes out some tightly-wrapped snacks. She doesn’t ask them to stop eating, putting the gift into their coat herself. She knows where they are; she’s the one who made it for them.

“Love life?” they ask between bites, stealing a mouthful of her drink.

She huffs. “Don’t ask me that.”

They grin and keep eating. She picks up her pen and writes a couple of lines in her journal. She must have over a hundred by now, even as sparingly as she writes in them, keeping the record of her many decades of life. These sentences will be about a visit from her old friend Northlight. Another kind of story, just for her.

“Can you read?” she asks.

“Just about. Holding onto it.”

They can’t always, she’s told them. Though she goes through life in the right order, she meets them throughout theirs, and sometimes they are illiterate. Before or after now, she won’t say, and they don’t ask.

She pulls the journal closer so they can piece together the words. NL visit at underground bar northside. Fed them cheesy chips. Told me I had big guns which means muscles one day.

“Fusion,” they said. “It’s not just for nuclear weapons, is it? The sun doesn’t care about that.”

She hugs them. “I know. It’s just a force of nature, and like all those forces, it puts some power in a poor receptive human like me, and makes me something different.”

She’s as warm as a sauna, and they close their eyes, happily giving in to the cosiness. “Power builds in nature and spreads through us. I met an earth witch once, a very groovy lady, you’d like her…”

 -

They stayed with Rory for a solid three days. She had her own gravity, and their power was less liable to become unstuck around her. It was one of the reasons they’d been drawn to her so long ago.

They didn’t remember it at all. But she had the story in her diary.

“You told me you liked my light and wanted to bask. I asked who you were and you lied. It was a festival, and we danced together over the moss, and I realised you were immortal too.”

The story is told plainly. She doesn’t embellish, and can’t tell them anything more without lying. She doesn’t remember their first meeting either, but crucially, she was able to write it down, and rewrite it, and translate it, and preserve it. She wrote it all down. Especially when they couldn’t visit her, and she knew – she had to, given how she lived – that it wasn’t safe for them to do so. Especially when she thought they were in the cult’s clutches. It wasn’t her role to save them. She was there when they could find her, that was all.

She was living in a maisonette under a widow’s home, and the widow had no issue with her bringing women home, but Northlight charmed her anyway, just in case she got worried about someone more masculine showing up. She adored learning about their journey from Yorkshire, probably because it’s better when they tell it with the centuries-old landscape in mind.

All three nights, she cooks them simple meat-two-veg dishes, and they make her a panna cotta for dessert, and have to argue with her to stop her giving any to her cat, a thick-headed ginger-white tom she’s adopted recently. He looks feral but he obviously adores her. Northlight teases her that she’s replacing them with a cat, and she laughs, but doesn’t deny it.

But on the third day, she wakes them up with a hard shake of their shoulder and they come to blearily to realise she’s shouting at them. “Get out! Get out right now!”

Her hands are on them as they struggle to process, shoving at them until they almost fall out of the bed. She’s not even dressed herself, and they thought she was fine with sharing the bed, but maybe she changed her mind…

Then they manage to get their hair out of their eyes, and they see her blazing stare, and the way her mullet is standing up on the back of her neck, and they realise it’s not about them snoring.

“Time to go, you have to go,” she’s telling them, panic in her ragged voice. She’s still pushing them towards the door. “Go, go, go.”

They catch the doorway with a hand. The morning sun is barely reaching into the room, a crack in the curtain crossing the bed as they twist to look for their coat.

“Moondrop, please,” she begs them, shoving both hands against their shoulders, “please, go, get away.”

The epithet decides it. They turn and throw their arms around her. She’s burning up, running hotter than ever, but they hold on. “I’m not leaving.”

She tries to pry them free, hands on their waist. It could be a great hug if she’d stop hyperventilating. “No, no, you have to go. You can’t stay for this, please.”

They kiss her cheek. “Let me be the brave one,” they tell her.

Then they peel away, and she shadows them nervously, hopping from foot to foot as they go to her bathroom and start blasting the tub full of water. It’s about to get sweltering in here, they know, but they don’t open the windows. They keep the blinds down, turning on the overhead light. They push her inside. “Heat sink,” they tell her. “Get in, it’s cold. I’ll get the ice.”

She’s still shaking her head, but her hair is sticking to her forehead in sweat now and her skin is growing luminous and pale. They pull her arm and she obeys, climbing into the bath still in her tank and shorts. She lets out an unwilling breath of relief at the temperature change.

It firms up their choice. Though their heart is pounding, knowing what’s coming, they have decided. She can’t get to safety and they can’t abandon her. The surge will pass if they can survive it, and the sooner she lets it go, the easier it’ll be to keep it contained. They grab the entire bag of ice from her freezer, knowing she’d have it as long as she had the technology for it. They bring it back to her and set it directly onto her torso, where she is lying nearly fully submerged, and the water is no longer cold. It’s starting to steam.

They close the bathroom door with them both on the inside. Not a crack of natural light.

“Please,” she pleads with them one more time, her voice strained to breaking point. “I don’t want to hurt you, it’ll, I’ll be bad.”

They settle down beside the tub. Their coat and all their treasures have been left safe by her bedside. “I’ve suffered worse for worse causes,” they tell her.

Rory laughs painfully and dips her head briefly below the water. “It’s coming,” she breathes as she emerges. The water lets out a bubble, then two. “Oh lord. My throat.”

It’s the last thing she manages to say before she throws her head back and yells, brief, violently, desperately as the pale of her skin becomes a glow. Northlight lowers their eyes, watching the water come to boil around her as she breathes hard, mouth open as if she were exhaling the power she’s built.

The amount of heat she radiates is wonderful, if Northlight is honest. It’s like basking in the bonfire of old midsummer without a cloud in the sky. If they weren’t who they were, it might have been a problem. Their skin starts to burn before she’s done, the heat sinking into it and staying lodged, not to mention the searing light against their eyes. The sting, the pain, are easily endured. They curl around the edge of the bath, forcing breaths in at a regular pace. They hate pain. They hate it. She’s worth it. They can do it. She deserves to have someone at her side through this.

It could be worse. They know how it feels to her.

I have lain in fire and felt it eat ay my flesh, but this is different. The fire is inside me and it blazes from a white core. It transforms every part of me as t spreads until the inferno is all I am. I become hellfire and purgatory and I lose all control. The power is rabid, racing through me unless I can find a way to force it out.

Her skin is returning to its usual shade, and her hair settles still. She exhales, her throat raw, the breath crackled and brittle. Northlight leans over and pulls the plug to let the water flow away, helping her cool further.

“Your face,” she says once she cracks her eyes open, staring at them with pain in her gaze. “Moondrop, I--”

“Nay, I’m fine,” they tell her. “You’ll keep me warm when I’m back in the open.”

Her brows knit together as she reaches for them. Her fingers brush over skin that feels raw and feverish. She blinks, though her eyes do not fill with tears. “I thought it w-was a small one.”

Northlight puts a hand around hers, easing it clear of his face. “I’ll deepen my tan,” they tell her. That’s all they’re willing to say about it. Not pain, not injuries. Silly jokes and quips, chunks of melted ice, a blip in their time together and now, back to normal.

Her gravity is weaker, now, as though she’s lost her mass. They are careful not to move unnecessarily. “I wonder what the neighbours think,” they ponder light-heartedly. “I’ll have to go around and explain you stubbed a toe.”

She sits up. “Stop,” she whispers, the only clean sound she makes the P. “Stop, you jester. I hurt you. I can s-see that.”

“You didn’t raise a finger against me,” Northlight tells her. “Magic does it, not you. I will heal.”

“Healing sucks,” Rory declares with a groan, trying and failing to lift herself out of the tub. “Healing hurts as much as the wound and twice as long, you know that as well as I.”

“We heal different,” they tell her, setting a hand on her shoulder. “Stay and rest. Cool off. I’m here.”

She looks at him with pained eyes. “Why did you stay?”

They inhale, then hold it a moment. The jokes are on their tongue ready. Tell her she was too hot to leave. No, don’t say hot… Tell her they’re the moon to her sun and there’s nobody else to orbit. Tell her they don’t get to go to space but this is the next best thing.

They exhale. She deserves better.

“When I leave,” they admit, trailing fingers down her arm, “I don’t always get to choose how far I leave. I didn’t want this to be over. And I would have had to get my things, and… It would have seemed to be fleeing you.” They huff a laugh to smother the hurt in their chest. “I couldn’t bear for you to think that of me.”

The water shifts around her as she lifts her arm, closing her damp hand around theirs. “You are as transient as I am constant,” she returns, slipping as they have into an older tongue. “We are motion and stillness. I know you will find your way to me, and you know I will always welcome you.”

They close their eyes, tears prickling. Their same old vow. “Whenever it may be,” they echo the words se gave them long ago.

“However you may be,” she adds. “My eternal friend.”

They think about her watching the women at the bar, arms thrown around each other, laughing and carefree. They try to imagine explaining to a beloved mortal that she may one day need them to leave and not look back, because if they don’t, she could kill them. They wonder whether they would come back, if they were mortal.

They think about Rishi. Out there, somewhere, hoping to know the secrets of his future. Asking the question, unaware of what it would cost. So when do I die?

A reminder, painful and true, of the vast difference in their lives.

“Sister of my heart,” they say, in the oldest language they know. A vow that she will be alone, but never forever.

She knows. The loneliness is in her eyes, and her ragged throat, and the grip of her hand on theirs.

[im-no-jedi]

MLWTBB: Business Is Business

aka the (continued) journey into my self insert nonsense✨

chapter summary: the Bad Batch return to Ord Mantell and discover Cid’s Parlor has been taken over by Roland Durand, and by proximity, Hannah as well. Cid comes up with a plan to take back the parlor that includes Hannah’s help, but a visit from the Pyke Syndicate complicates things...

notes: this is a continuation of my story, “My Life With The Bad Batch”; I highly recommend reading that first before this one! I created a few new planets for this story. I’m also not 100% versed in SW terminology, so forgive me if some things are labeled incorrectly! each chapter will be rated accordingly, as opposed to the overall fic. lastly, there is romance in this story. hope you enjoy! 💙

add. notes: this chapter was edited and proofread by my sis @jam-n-ham! thanks sis!! 😋💙

Chapter 2, 3900+ words, rated T (for gun violence and alcohol, you know, stuff from the episode 😝)

previous chapters: Chapter 1

next chapter

✨MLWTBB masterlist✨  

______________________________________________________________

The next several days were absolute torture. Word quickly got out about the new management at Cid’s Parlor, which significantly upped its popularity. Hannah now not only had to contend with her sleazy new boss, but an increase in work as well. She barely found time to even sit before something or someone needed her attention. Every morning, she would wake up and hope with all her heart that she would walk into the parlor and the boys would be there to whisk her away. And every night, she would go to her apartment and cry herself to sleep. She didn’t know how much more she could take.

One particularly busy day, Hannah discovered that they’d run out of an ingredient in Roland’s favorite mixed drink. She insisted on being the one to go shop for it as an excuse to get out of the parlor. Roland thankfully agreed to it, and Hannah intentionally took her time to shop for what she needed. Somehow, the dirty streets of Ord Mantell were more welcoming than the place she basically lived in.  

Of course, her thoughts drifted to her friends once again, the people who had become her adopted family. She could just picture them swooping in on the Marauder and beckoning her to fly away with them, like she had done the first day she met them back on Astreon. She missed them so much, her chest physically ached, and it took everything in her to not cry on the way back to the parlor.

As Hannah reached the stairs leading to the parlor, she crossed paths with some people she was very surprised to see. Approaching her were three Pykes, who had just exited the parlor. She had never seen Pykes in person before, but she knew all about them. Mostly that they were the kind of people you didn’t want to get in trouble with. She gave them a wide berth as they came up the stairs and waited until they were out of sight before even attempting to go down the stairs herself. She had no idea why Pykes were in the parlor, and she was pretty sure she didn’t want to find out either.

The parlor was as busy as ever once Hannah got back into it. She quickly got to work making a drink for Roland, as she knew he would inevitably ask for one. Sure enough, she heard Roland call out from the back room, as he had been doing ever since taking over the parlor. The drink was quickly finished, and Hannah rushed over to the room to bring it to her boss.

The sight she was met with nearly made her drop the drink, and she let out a gasp. Standing in the room, along with several of Roland’s men, were five familiar persons; four adult men clad in black and red armor, and a young girl with short blonde hair. It was them - it was her family.

The five seemed equally surprised to see Hannah as she was to see them. Omega immediately exclaimed her friend’s name, which made Hannah nearly burst into tears. Hannah looked at each of them, a similar expression of shock on each of their faces. Her eyes ultimately landed on Hunter, who looked back at her in desperation. She wanted so badly to run into his arms and beg him to take her away from there, but she held back.

The moment was interrupted by Roland, who once again asked for his drink. Barely able to breathe, Hannah managed to pull herself together and walked over to Roland, who was seated behind Cid’s desk at the back of the room. Omega reached out for Hannah as she walked by, but to no avail.

“Ahh, yet another masterpiece,” Roland said after taking a sip of his drink. “You really are my best asset, dollface,” he said to Hannah smugly.  

Hunter visibly tensed up, balling his hands into fists; it looked like he was about to lunge at Roland. But Hannah gave him a look, begging him with her eyes to not start anything.

“If there’s nothing else you all need,” Roland started, clearly addressing the Bad Batch. “Then kindly leave my office. I have business to attend to.”

Everyone looked to Hunter, who was still visibly scowling at Roland. Hannah gave him another look, this time silently begging him to go. As much she wanted to go with them, Hannah knew it would be better for them to just leave while they had the chance. The pained look in Hunter’s eyes nearly broke her heart as he told the others it was time to leave. He had to practically drag Omega out of the room. Hannah could feel herself shaking as they all left.

“Well, I certainly didn’t figure you the kind to befriend mercenaries,” Roland said to Hannah after the Batch had left. “Much less disgraced former Republic troopers.”

Like Hunter had done before, Hannah balled her hands into fists, wanting nothing more than to slug Roland in the face. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

Roland snickered. “Something to look forward to in the future, I guess.”

She had heard enough. Hannah huffed and stormed out of the room, barely holding back her tears. As she stepped behind the counter of the bar, a small figure caught the corner of her eye. Omega was standing in the doorway at the bottom of the stairs. The two girls shared a sorrowful look before Omega was beckoned away by one of the boys. Hannah could no longer hide her tears and sunk to the floor, quietly sobbing to herself behind the counter.

*****************************

“We can’t just leave her there!” Omega exclaimed desperately. She did her best to keep up with her brothers as they all began walking back to their ship.

“Yeah!” Wrecker added.

“We’re not going to,” Hunter reassured them. “Once the parlor closes for the night, I’m going to her apartment to get her.”

“It’s extremely likely that man has guards posted at her apartment,” Tech pointed out.

“Then I’ll sneak in,” Hunter replied sternly. “Whatever it takes to get her out of there. We’ll bring her with us.”

“To where?” Echo asked.

“I don’t know yet. But we’re getting off Ord Mantell. Tech, prep the ship. The rest of us will gather supplies.”

The others looked away solemnly. They had gotten used to Cid’s place and didn’t want to have to leave it, but everyone knew that Hunter was right in wanting to leave.  

Everyone except for Omega.

“What about Cid?” she asked her brothers. “What did that guy mean when he said she was ‘out’?”

“Given his tone,” Tech began to reply. “It is a plausible assumption that Cid was either forced out or taken out.”

Omega didn’t like the sound of that. She ran in front of the boys, stopping them in their tracks. “We have to find her and help her!”

Before any of the boys could respond, they all heard a familiar voice clear their throat. Standing in the door to the Marauder was Cid, her arms crossed as she leaned against the doorframe. “Nice to see one of you cares.” She gestured inside of the ship, basically ordering them inside.

As the Batch stepped inside the ship, Cid stopped Hunter abruptly. “Where’s Red?”

“Still at the parlor,” Hunter replied solemnly. “She looked miserable.”

“Poor girl,” Cid replied, shaking her head. “I expect you to get her outta that hellhole, Bandana.”

“Believe me, you don’t even have to ask.”

“Oh, I wasn’t askin’.”

Hunter managed a smirk, pleasantly surprised that Cid seemed as concerned about Hannah as the rest of them were.

A discussion was then had about what to do next, including Cid telling the others everything she knew about Roland and why he had basically stolen her parlor from her. Cid had a plan for how to get her parlor back, which included getting Hannah’s help. Hunter didn’t like the idea of her getting involved, but Cid insisted that Hannah would agree to it, even going so far as to berate Hunter and tell him to “have some faith in your girl.” Omega agreed as well, which meant that Hunter definitely had to relent now. That didn’t make him any less worried though...

*******************************

A bit later, after Hannah had taken some time to calm down, two familiar figures came walking into the parlor. It was Bolo and Ketch. They hadn’t come to the parlor at all since Roland had taken over, and Hannah was overjoyed to see them. And to her delight, the first thing they did was come over to see her and order some drinks. Hannah happily got to work making their order, but she noticed something was a bit off about the both of them, almost like they were trying to hide something.

As Hannah brought their drinks over, Bolo and Ketch thanked her, to which she responded by saying how nice it was to see them again. Bolo scanned the room to see if anybody was watching them before returning the sentiment. He nudged Ketch, who began digging into his pockets to pay for the drinks, but Hannah insisted they were on the house. Ketch refused, saying they couldn’t possibly accept such a generous offer.  

Now Hannah knew something was up. Bolo and Ketch never passed up an opportunity for free drinks.

Ketch took a moment to scan the room again before sliding some credits over to Hannah for the drinks. Immediately, Hannah noticed something unusual sitting underneath the money, but didn’t say anything.

“Here’s the cash,” Ketch said. “Plus, a little something extra.” He winked at Hannah, then nodded to Bolo, who took his drink to another table. Ketch also walked away, sitting down at one of the benches with his drink and a bag of Mantell Mix he’d brought into the parlor with him.

Hannah cautiously swiped the money into her hand and looked at what Ketch had put underneath it. She found a small folded up note and casually turned around so no one would notice her read it. The note was from Cid, which nearly made her gasp. It read, “Need a distraction. Keep Roland occupied. The boys and I are getting the parlor back.” Hannah clutched the note to her chest, fearful of anyone seeing it, before discreetly shoving it into one of her pockets. Then she turned back to see Bolo staring at her expectantly. Hannah quickly scanned the room before giving Bolo a wink and a nod. At that, Bolo quickly finished his drink before giving a thumbs-up to Ketch and leaving the parlor.

The plan was officially in motion.

Hannah took a deep breath, put on her best fake smile, and casually walked to the back room, knocking on the door. “Roland? You busy?”

The door slid open almost immediately. Roland was still seated at his desk, petting Ruby. “Not too busy for you. What is it, dollface?”

It was taking all of Hannah’s strength to not cringe, but the act she was putting on helped with that. “Well, I know how you’ve been wanting to make things more exciting around here, so I’ve been brainstorming some new drink ideas and was wondering if you wanted to test them out. You know, since you’re such a good judge of these kinds of things.”

Roland quirked an eyebrow at her and smirked. “Oh really? Why the sudden interest in my approval?”

“Oh, I just figured it was about time for us to make amends,” Hannah lied, doing her best to sound genuine. “Don’t wanna bring the business down after all. Plus...” She coyly tucked her hair behind her ear. “We haven’t really gotten to know each other that well yet. With how highly everyone out here speaks about you, I must be missing something.”

Thankfully, Roland’s ego was stronger than his intuition, and he gladly accepted Hannah’s offer. She immediately got to work pulling out different bottles and using what knowledge she had about each flavor of drink to try and put together something Roland might like.  

For what felt like hours, she was asking questions about Roland and trying to get him to talk about himself as much as possible. If nothing else, she knew that Roland’s favorite topic of discussion was himself.  

“And that’s how I single handedly got an entire group of Ugnauts to join my operation without question,” Roland said, completing his reiteration of one of his many tales.

“Once again,” Hannah said, acting impressed. “You never disappoint.” She finished mixing up another drink and slid it over to Roland.

“If only my mother could hear you say that,” Roland responded before taking a sip of the drink. “Hmm, could use a bit more zest in this one.”

“Noted,” Hannah said, taking the drink back from Roland. “And what do you mean by that other comment? I thought you said your mother approved of what you were doing.”

“Oh, she does. In fact, she thinks it's wonderful that I’m finally doing something with my life. As if I haven’t up until this point...”

Ahh. Mother issues. Of course. Everything made sense now.

“Well,” Hannah said, mixing up the newly fixed drink and handing it back to Roland. “For what it’s worth, I think you’ve made a very impressive mark on this place. Cid could never get the place this busy. I’m sure everyone will be coming here to meet with you.” She leaned her elbows on the counter and rested her chin in her hands, coyly staring at Roland. He was definitely buying the scam she was putting on.

“That’s the idea,” Roland said, swirling his drink around a bit. “Just you wait. Soon, you’ll be mixing up drinks for some of the biggest names in the galaxy, sweetheart.” He snickered. “Too bad Uncle Vinny isn’t around to see it.”

Hannah’s eyes practically popped out of her head and she felt her heart stop for a moment. Did... did he just say what she thought he said?

“W-who?” she hesitantly asked, barely able to hold herself together.

“My uncle,” Roland replied after taking a sip of his drink. “He was a bigshot businessman; had his toes dipped in all kinds of places, including the Empire. I personally always thought he was a bit too big for his britches, if you catch my drift. Ended up getting himself killed on a business trip a couple months ago, the poor fool.” He snickered again. “My mother was definitely not happy about it though, I’ll say that.”

As Roland was talking, Hannah had turned away from him, pretending like she was cleaning some cups so he wouldn’t notice how pale she had gone in the face. Of all people to take over Cid’s Parlor, it had to be Vin’s kriffing nephew. No wonder Roland reminded her so much of Vin. At least she had managed to get on Roland’s good side right off the bat. It was going to be very hard to even look at him from now on though.

After a bit longer of talking with Roland, Hannah noticed Ketch stand up out of the corner of her eye. He was still munching on his Mantell Mix and seemed to be making his way out of the parlor. She then noticed he was discreetly dropping pieces of food on the ground near Ruby, who was sitting on the stool next to Roland. The small lizard creature was immediately drawn to the food and began following the trail Ketch was leaving behind, which led up the stairs and out of the parlor. Hannah silently began questioning the viability of Cid’s plan because of this, but continued keeping up the act so Roland wouldn’t notice Ruby was gone.

Unfortunately, Roland was more attached to his little pet than Hannah anticipated. It didn’t take long for him to notice Ruby’s disappearance and immediately demanded that his men go looking for her. Hannah did her best to encourage Roland, saying that she couldn’t have gotten far and that she was sure Ruby was fine, but Roland was still visibly upset. It was genuinely shocking to see Roland caring about something other than himself for once. Then again, almost every single time she’d seen Roland that week, he’d had Ruby either in his arms or on his lap. And Ruby always returned the love, never letting anyone else near her without hissing or running away. It was touching, in its own weird way. At least Roland had that going for him unlike his super selfish uncle...

After some time, the armored men returned, informing Roland that the search for Ruby was unsuccessful, so Roland decided to take matters into his own hands. Hannah insisted he stay in the parlor to let his men do their job, but Roland was stubborn and left before Hannah had a chance to stop him. It was out of her hands now. She could only hope that whatever Bolo and Ketch were doing would be enough for Cid and the boys to enact their plan, whatever it was.

More time passed, and eventually, Roland came back with Ruby in tow, cooing at her and saying how they would “catch those two and kill them”, whatever that meant. Hannah expressed how nice it was to see Ruby back again, only half lying this time. Roland then said he was going back to his office and informed Hannah that if any Pykes showed up, to not worry about it and point them in his direction. Things were starting to click into place now for Hannah. She nodded to Roland, assuring him that she would do exactly as he asked.

Roland could be heard still cooing at Ruby even from the hallway. Worry began to wash over Hannah, as she desperately hoped that nothing unusual would be waiting in the back room.

PEW!

Hannah practically flew into the air in shock. She rushed over to the hallway, looked around the corner, and saw that the lock for the door had been blasted. She then heard Roland exclaim from inside the room, “The spice! It’s gone!”

Spice? That’s what he was keeping in there? Even more things were clicking into place, and Hannah grew more worried. She could hear Roland calling for more of his men to come into the room and “go after them” in an almost frantic tone. Hannah clutched her chest, realizing what was going on. Cid’s plan really was as crazy as she thought it was. And there was nothing else Hannah could do to help. All she could do now was wait.

She didn’t have to wait long for something to happen. Two of Roland’s men came into the parlor with Bolo and Ketch in tow, their hands raised above their heads. Hannah gasped and watched as they were shoved towards the back room. She couldn’t keep herself from following this time. From the hallway, she could hear Roland demanding to know everything and why they had stolen Ruby. It was all over from there. Hannah knew Bolo and Ketch were too cowardly to lie to someone like Roland. If they survived this, she was definitely going to berate them later for it.

Then suddenly, Hannah felt a presence approach her from behind - three presences, actually. She turned to look and audibly gasped at the sight of three Pykes standing directly behind her.

“Where is Roland Durand?” one of the Pykes asked her. He was completely monotone, but Hannah still felt entirely intimidated by him. She pulled herself together enough to answer, directing them around the corner. As the three Pykes walked past her, Hannah felt a chill down her spine. Just their very presence intimidated her beyond explanation.

Less than a minute later, Bolo and Ketch came out of the room, being shoved away by one of Roland’s men. She gave them a worried look as they were led away, but her attention was drawn to the office now more than ever. The door was shut, but Hannah could still hear through it, her face pressed up against the frame.

“I said you’ll get your money,” she heard Roland saying. There was a nervous hitch to his voice she had never heard before. “I suggest you go back to Oba Diah and wait.”

“You are out of your depth, Durand,” said one of the Pykes. It sounded like the same one who had addressed Hannah before. “Either you correct this grave mistake, or you and your entire family will experience what pain truly feels like.” The Pyke still spoke in monotone, but Hannah could just sense Roland quaking in his shoes from the other side of the door.  

Everything suddenly went silent. Hannah pressed her ear further against the door to try and make out any noise, but to no avail. She didn’t realize her elbow was so close to the door panel before it was too late. The door suddenly slid open, and Hannah practically stumbled into the office. All eyes were on her now, including that of the three Pykes.

“How disappointing,” the head Pyke said. “To think you would set spies on us despite our previous arrangements... you continue to wear out our patience, Durand.” The two other Pykes then pulled out blasters and aimed them at Hannah, who gasped in terror and threw her hands up.

“Wait!” Roland exclaimed. “Don’t hurt her! She had nothing to do with this!” The head Pyke turned back towards Roland as he continued to speak. “Cid’s the one you want. She stole your spice. If you want it back, you need to look for her. And if anything, this woman might know where she is.”

The head Pyke turned towards Hannah again and slowly approached her. Hannah felt like running, but was too frozen with fear to move. “If you know where this Cid is,” the Pyke said to her. “I suggest you tell us.”

Hannah shook her head, her breath catching in her throat. “I don’t, I swear.” Normally, she would throw in some comment about how she would “never tell them even if she did know”, but she was far too intimidated to say anything further.

The Pyke stared Hannah down. It felt like he was peering into her very soul. She was absolutely terrified, but couldn’t look away from his gaze. He then turned to the other two Pykes, saying, “Take care of the parlor.” The others nodded and started to walk out of the room, past Hannah, who was still frozen in place. The head Pyke then grabbed Hannah by the arm, causing her to shriek. Roland reached out, as if trying to stop whatever was about to happen.

PEW! PEW! PEW!

Gunshots could be heard from outside the room. The armored men rushed out, their blasters at the ready. At first, Hannah thought maybe it was her friends returning from whatever they had been doing with Cid. But no, it was far too quiet for that.

Suddenly, one of the armored men cried out, collapsing on the ground in front of the doorway. Hannah gasped loudly, realizing the man was now dead, a blaster shot clearly sizzling in his chest. Roland began to step forward, but stopped when he realized the Pyke now had a gun pointed against Hannah’s back.  

“I wouldn’t,” the Pyke taunted in his signature monotone voice.  

Roland looked at the panic in Hannah’s eyes and backed off.

In any other instance, Hannah would’ve enjoyed seeing Roland in such a defeated state. But now, it was taking everything in her to not break down crying out of pure terror.

[coutelier]

Irongate - The Lighthouse

Another excerpt from the current draft. About 1800 words.

In contrast to the mechanical nature of the lighthouse, the cottage was cozy. Varnished wooden furniture, fluffy cushions, musty old bookshelves. As well as old globes and a telescope, there were books scattered everywhere; some piled into corners or left open on the coffee table. From the titles Kaya they were mostly science, philosophy, and history texts, although she did spot a collection of the That Witch series. The only area free of books was around the fireplace. There were framed photographs, presumably of the mysterious lighthouse keeper and her family; a disheveled four-eyed middle-aged man, a baggy eyed woman prompting a little blonde girl to look up from her tablet and stare dead-eyed into the camera.

“No way,” Kaya’s voice wavered, realizing that she knew these people. Or had known them. It had been five years since she’d seen one of them last, and then she hadn’t exactly been - no. She wasn’t ready for this. “Sorry Hull; change of plan buddy. Turns out I can’t be here. I gotta-“

Too late. A meek voice from above asked, “Hull? What is-“ descending the stairs was a a young woman in a powder blue gown, one hand holding onto the banister as if too weak or uncertain to stand on her own, eyes sunken and shadowed like she’d just woken up. Kaya froze in place as the keeper reached the bottom and turned to squint at her. “Who are-?” She wondered. Kaya’s hair had been blue when last they’d spoke, yet any hope that she might just not recognize her soon fled as her face tautened and she bared her teeth, snarling, “you!”

“Hey Jenn,” Kaya sheepishly waved. Jennifer burst for a drawer, Kaya reflexively taking a few steps after her, recoiling when Jenn spun round with a canister and a finger perched on the nozzle.

“Woah,” Kaya raised her palms, “look, I know you’ve got a lot of reasons to mad, but I’m not here to fight, okay? I didn’t even know you were here, so just calm, okay? Also that is fly spray you’re holding.”

Jennifer’s eyes darted down to confirm that before darting back intently to Kaya. “Well, it’s potentially carcinogenic so you better stay back!”

“I’m staying back. See?”

“How did you get in?”

“Well, your robot fish thing let me in.”

“Really?” Jenn glared at the bobbing manta, “we’ll be having words about that. So just why are you here?”

“That’s kind of a long story,” Kaya figured she needed to diffuse the situation first; calm her down enough that she might actually listen. “You know, kids in town think you’re a witch.”

“I know,” she sighed, “they dare each other to sneak in sometimes. Usually the fogs enough to keep them away. No-ones ever made it past the brown note before,” she continued muttering, “now I’ll have to install some harder deterrents.”

“Why is there a lighthouse out here anyway?”

“I’m pretty sure they still have the internet where you come from,” Jennifer lowered the fly-spray, falling into an armchair. The moment she did two small squares opened on the table; from one popped up a mug and from the other a metal arm with a nozzle that shot coffee into it. “The university built it decades ago. Basically an art thing; a vague reference to the lighthouse and library of Alexandria, guiding people to the light of learning. They turned it on once and everyone in town complained, so it’s just been sitting up here ever since.”

Kaya cautiously dropped her backpack, sitting down at the other end of the coffee table. “And Hull?”

“Another university project. An early experiment in artificial intelligence, also abandoned up here,” Jenn began to absently twist her hair around her finger, “I fixed him up and gave him some upgrades, but obviously there are still some bugs to be worked out.”

“So,” Kaya blew, rippling her lips, “seems like you’ve done okay for yourself.” Even as she said it she realized there was something missing here; any other human.

“I’m luckier than most, I suppose. My uncle found this place and gifted it to me, and with my inheritance and royalties I’ve the financial freedom to tinker with whatever I want. So yes, it’s - it’s okay.”

“I just always figured you’d have left town. Be off exploring the universe, solving mysteries.”

Jennifer’s eyes glazed as she fixated on a point just above the fireplace. “There was,” she quietly confessed, “there was no-one to explore it with.”

“Yeah,” Kaya also averted her gaze, “I’m sorry.”

“It… i-it’s fine. I get it. You were a teenager and wanted to be part of a group and didn’t have time for a weird kid like me anymore. So how’d that work out? You still play your music?”

“Yeah, we… we play,” one night a week and Ange’s dad owned the club, but Jenn didn’t need to know that much.

“Good. So you’re fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

Hull was still hovering in a corner of the room, and across from Kaya the little girl who looked to the stars and hunted fairies had been replaced by some tired hermit. “You don’t look fine, Jenn. Even your fish doesn’t think you’re fine - no offense. Do you mind being called a fish?”

Hull informed her, “I am incapable of taking offense.”

“Cool.”

Less convincingly Jenn informed her, “my parents disappeared, my best friend abandoned me, but all things considered I think I’m as fine as I can be. I’m not suicidal or anything, and that can’t be the reason you’re here.”

“Right,” perhaps they both needed a distraction. “I saw something that was… impossible.”

Jennifer groaned, “seeing something doesn’t seem impossible.”

“It was invisible.”

“Unless it’s invisible.”

“At first. I saw it because of the rain. It came out of the trees like some kind of faerie or spriggan.”

“But I take it there’s no chance you got a decent picture of this creature?”

“Power went out in the whole block. Even my phone. And to be honest I couldn’t interrupt it trying to murder me long enough to ask it to pose. It flipped a car over with one hand!”

“It tried to murder you?”

“It already killed someone else. Plucked his eyes right out of his skull.”

Again Jenn groaned, eyeing Kaya suspiciously like she thought this would turn out to be some elaborate and cruel prank. Which given her experience in school was perhaps not unreasonable. In the end she said, “if someone died you should go to the police.”

“And tell them what? They’d think I was high or something, which not unreasonable but no. Look - I do have proof,” Kaya lifted the blade from her pack, unwrapping the newspapers she’d cocooned it in on the coffee table. “Look.”

Jennifer looked. Shrugged, “it’s a piece of metal.” She then looked a bit more closely, nose crumpling as she gasped, “is that blood?!”

“It’s not mine. It’s its.”

“I-I don’t know why you’re bringing this to me.”

“Well that wasn’t the plan, but now you’re here this is exactly the kind of thing you’ve always wanted, right? Cryptids, strange phenomena, a whole mystery to uncover and solve.”

Jenn sighed, “that was a long time ago.” After rubbing her eyes she looked pointedly at Kaya. “W-we… we’re not little kids anymore.” She had never been physically very strong, but that felt to Kaya like a real gut punch.

“So you don’t believe me.”

“People believe in all sorts of things that are wrong, even harmful; psychics, miracle cures, white supremacy. I once believed that you were my friend, but then when I needed you most you… y-you weren’t there, so…”

“Right,” so, Kaya knew, that was that. Jennifer just wanted her out of her life and it was really just the story of hers; molotoving every bridge for no real reason and only after seeing them all burn realizing she’d left herself no place to go. “You know I really am sorry,” she said as she picked up her bag.

“I don’t care.”

Jennifer remained seated, watching steam rise from the coffee while she continued twirling her hair waiting for Kaya to be gone. She began to kick her own shin with the ball of the ball of her other foot, but it wasn’t enough. When she was certain Kaya had left she swiped the mug, seeing it smash and splash on the wallpaper.

Hull bobbed toward her, “do you feel better, mistress?”

“No,” she admitted. “Wh-what where you thinking letting her in here? You have access to all my diaries. You must know I despise that person.”

“Incorrect.”

“What?!”

“Other than your father, Kaya Cade is the individual most often referred to fondly in your journals.”

“Well that can’t be right. What about mom?”

“Your relationship with your mother was often strained. She frequently expressed concern at your odd behavior.”

“N-no, that’s not…” was it? Jennifer tried hard to remember. There were times her mother seemed aggravated because she didn’t think Jenn was listening to her. But she was. They were happy. Hull had just misinterpreted. “When I was little I might have spoken fondly of Kaya, but check everything after I was thirteen; it’s all just me weeping because of some awful thing the gang she was with did. Things changed.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Life just is change I guess. She changed, I’ve changed, even you change; every nanosecond you acquire new data. You’re never the same computer you were yesterday.”

“Then does it not stand to reason they could change once more? That the one who hurt you no longer exists?”

Logically he was correct, but, “even if that’s true, the memories remain. And I don’t have to forgive her. I’m sure she’ll find someone out there who will give her the help she needs. She’ll be fine.”

“And you?”

“I’ll carry on,” she sighed. She would have to start by wiping up that coffee then tidying a bit in here. “Perseverance is my middle name.”

“Incorrect. Your middle is-“

“Willow,” Jennifer sighed. “I never like it. Dad tried to convince me it was cool. He said Taoist witches used Willow carvings to talk to the dead.” She closed her eyes, seeing him, recalling that he’d also told her never to turn her back on someone asking for help. She opened her eyes to see that Kaya had left the blood stained blade on the table. “Dammit.”

She carefully ran her finger on the flat of the blade. “Texture is a little strange,” she thought. A moment later she was inside the lighthouse, peering at some crystalline structure through a powerful microscope. “I don’t think it is metal. Looks more like a limpet’s tooth,” she murmured, “something grown rather than manufactured.” Hull, now reattached for charging, had also found some police reports that he displayed. It seemed Kaya wasn’t making it all up after all - she had seen something. The question was what exactly. “Do we still have the DNA sequencer?”

“I believe it is stored below, next to the flux capacitor.”

“Good. Get it ready while I get dressed.”

[daydreamsandcrashingwaves]

TW: Childhood neglect and abuse, hurt dogs and neglect, complicated family dynamics, cheating, child labor, sorry if I miss something (and please kindly lmk so I can update the list)

I think growing up it was inevitable, already written that I would become sadder, world worn, as the years pass. I know I am not alone. As our eyes open to the world the shine dims, knowledge is power, yes, but also a double edge sword. We begin to see the cracks, the problems, the bad habits. When we are young our guardians show us what is right and what is wrong, and if you grew up with a parent like mine they are always right. Even when it hurts us. Even if you tell them it hurts us. Then you see the inconsistencies, the hypocrisy. What happens when you really aren’t their first priority? Or when they’re so different in public you get whiplash? I can only ever tell you my dear readers. My parent will never face justice for the past. They will never know just how profound their negative impact on my life is. 

On the surface I had everything, a house over my head, a car, a horse to compete with and all the tack that comes with it, a parent that was doing their best to raise two kids by themselves. 

Because I was the “daughter” I was assigned housework, especially if the special guest was coming to visit. The state of the house was only cared about if visitors were to see, my parent is was adamant that everything was perfect and the list was given to me exclusively. My parent is was obsessed with dogs, we had five. Which made our house a prison. Where they objectively good boys, yes, very much so. My heart aches for them and the fact my parent couldn’t let them go. See 1 & 2 couldn’t be in the same room. If they got past the doors to their respective areas it would be a blood bath. Multiple times I tried to convince this parent that moving one would be best. “They’re my family I can’t get rid of one” , “They, at least, love me unconditionally”. I can’t count the number of times I sat on the stairs cleaning up blood. No matter what I said they wouldn’t listen, refused to rehome one into a single dog household (both were angels with people so no issues there). But what could I do? My parent had convinced me my other parent, who had cheated, was worse than my situation and I couldn’t report them because what 11 year old wants to get placed in foster care? My brother? I doubt he would’ve ever gotten clean and be as successful in his field as he is. But at what cost? What did it cost me?  Why did I have to be the sacrificial lamb so to speak. As soon as my brother could drive I was left alone with you, I’d come home from school and get handed a list of chores and orders to fill. I was your own personal worker.

My parent built a secret life with their best friend without their kids, since before my parents divorced, before it was even considered. Ironically I at four set off the chain reaction that took place for them to end up together, and I’m so bitter that they are together. This parent asked me once “why can’t I be happy?, don’t I deserve happiness?” Yes. Maybe. I’m not sure. Your chosen partner has been married since you met, has three children and a husband across the country that doesn’t see their parent because they are with you. Your hypocrisy makes me sick, let alone the morality of being with someone who is married. It’s a slap in the face you expect me to be happy for you when you do what you want despite how it hurts people. (let alone your own children, you like to tell me/everyone you do everything for your kids) I may care about this parent but I mostly resent them. For the dogs, for verbally beating me down once the separation/divorce happened, for never acknowledging my lactose intolerance and exasperating my ARFIDs, for you rebuilding your world secretly- keeping me out of your new happy family, for you tricking everyone into thinking your some kind of animal saint when you hoard animals to avoid dealing with your own shit, I can’t stand your farm because people gush over you and your kind heart, yet I wanna throw up when you get another animal. It must be easier to love something that doesn’t talk back, or be able tell you when you’ve hurt them. 

You’ve always been a defensive parent. You never apologized for what you drilled into my brain as a child, and honestly at this point it probably wouldn’t mean much, there are too many dark clouds and distance between us. My Grandmother is the parent I acknowledge from your side. She raised me, tried so hard to build me up. Maybe if you had done the same, when the world dug it’s claws into my soul I wouldn’t have listened. I would’ve been reinforced by your love, something I so desperately wanted. You implied that I didn’t love you unconditionally. You’re right. I refuse to love someone as cruel as you. Children are not required to love people who abuse and mistreat them, not that you think of it that way.

Sorry if this is a bit unorganized, my thoughts have been so scattered and I can’t discuss this IRL as my parent has a strong social presence, and a lot of it isn’t pretty so I chose not to IRL. Much love my dear readers, thank you for reading this far. I hope this can make someone feel less alone in their complicated family dynamic. 

I’ve discovered thru therapy that our anger is the part of us that loves us and knows when we’ve been mistreated, so recognize your anger my friends

~Ren