#its driving this whole house absolutely up the wall. ever time i go downstairs its jensen whats his features

[lucindarobinsonvevo]

i don't know if you've watched it yet or are intending to watch it but i would highly recommend watching the new disney series Willow!

i hadn't really planned on it, since I'm not really into fantasy stories, or stories about magic but seeing how passionate you are about it does make me think maybe I should, lol. Weirdly enough, I did read the novelization of the film a long time ago. Someone gave it to me after buying it at a thrift shop I think. I remember actually really liking it.

[obae-me]

A Taste Of His Own Medicine- Beel

Word Count: 2464

Description: This demon cold isn’t done with its victims, and despite your best attempts at keeping everyone healthy, you still aren’t done with your caretaking.

Lucifer and Mammon were now fully healthy and back on their feet, Satan not too far behind them. The rest of the household had their fingers crossed that it wouldn’t spread any further. Those hopes were dashed when two people were absent from breakfast one morning. The twins, Beel and Belphie, had never come down from their shared room. For Belphie, this wasn’t something to stop the presses for, he was known for sleeping too late only to get up at the last minute. For Beel, however, to miss any sort of meal? Something had to be wrong.

You offered to go check on them, putting your fork down, your morning breakfast not the same without the two of them.

Lucifer was somehow already out of his chair, gently pushing you back to your seat with a single hand on your shoulder. “Please, let me. If they are sick it’s hard telling how they’ll react. They could just as easily be oversleeping.”

You wanted to protest, but you figured he was probably right. He was their brother first and foremost, you were still just some human living in their home. That fact and the kinder eyes and soft touch he had given you had won you over to his words. He strided away from the table, and with a few long steps, he exited the room.

Asmo was squirming uncomfortably, audibly whining. “I was stupid to think this sickness thing was over! With Beel eating everything down to all your leftovers, it’s no wonder he caught your ugly germs! Then he gave it to Belphie, and next you’ll all give it to me!” He pushed his plate away from him, only having a single bite taken out of his meal.

“You don’t know that they’re sick yet,” Mammon rebutted. “And what do you mean my germs are ugly? Yours are!”

“The likelihood that both of them are ill is high.” Satan sighed, putting down his book he had brought with him. After doing his best to tune them out, it just wasn’t working. He still was weaker than he’d like to be, not to mention drained, but a doctor had confirmed that he was no longer contagious and could continue attending his classes at RAD. “The fridge has been abnormally full and I heard plenty of coughing from Belphie the other day.”

An alarming banging sound came from above their heads, little specks of dust from the ceiling floated down, only just visible in the direct light. As if this proved his theory, Satan gestured towards the noise. His eyelid almost twitching as Lucifer’s booming voice could be heard throughout the house.

This was enough for Asmo to get up from his spot, shaking his head profusely. “I swear if I catch this thing, all of you are absolutely going to have it, you hear me?!” He choked back a fake sob and went to leave the room.

“Oi, where are you going?” Mammon called after him.

“To wash my hands!” The demon of lust slammed the door to the dining hall as you watched more dust sprites dance down from the air. They twirled and spinned right over Levi. His nose twitched and he raised his elbow to cover his face as he let out a sneeze.

Levi, the only one who had been quiet this far, finally let out a long groan. He glanced down at his hands fearfully, as if they had been covered with blood. “No no no no no, I’m sick, I knew it!”

Satan rested his head back in his chair, closing his eyes in annoyance. The ruckus upstairs had gotten worse, his brothers were driving him up the wall already, and he still wasn’t feeling well, maybe he’d skip out on classes today. “Levi, I doubt you’re sick, you never leave your room.”

“Mammon bumped into me in the hallway when he had it, I bet he gave it to me then!”

Now the only three brothers left at the table were fighting. You frowned as your food ended up on the far side of the room along with the table. Unfortunately, this kind of thing happened often, so you excused yourself, expertly dodging a plate as it whirled past. You sat yourself on the stone steps of the entryway, waiting for the multiple battles to die down. There was screaming downstairs, crashing upstairs, the whole house in chaos once again.

“Demons…” You sighed.

***

Lucifer confirmed it, both of them had caught the cold, and he had spent the past hour or so attempting to wrangle both of them into taking some medicine. He had succeeded naturally, but as much as wanted to take care of his little brothers, he had plenty of work to do, and this morning’s event had already set him behind.

He informed you that they were calm now, the medicine lulling and sedating them, so you could see them freely without worry of them tearing you apart. Lucifer still warned you about watching yourself. “You’ve been on the brunt of all of this. I’m concerned for your health, the last thing we need is for you to fall ill as well.” You persuaded him that if you hadn’t gotten sick yet, maybe you were immune to demon colds. He wasn’t fully assured but let you do what you needed regardless.

You figured the best thing to cheer the twins up was with some good homemade soup. With Satan’s assistance, you concocted the most comforting meal you had ever made. You put two steaming bowls on a silver tray and brought it up to the twins room. The door to their bedroom had a golden emblem ingrained in the wood. A moon encircling a sun, resembling the same individual symbols above both their beds. You balanced the tray on your hip for just a moment as you softly rapped your knuckles against the smooth wood. You were pleasantly surprised when someone actually opened the door for a change.

Beel looked down at you, eyes heavy, wearing a faded orange t-shirt and some black shorts. He was already radiating a ton of heat, his shirt sticking to the skin around his torso. His abs and muscles were clearly shown through the fabric, but he didn’t seem to mind. He rubbed one of his eyes with a hand, not even focusing on the soup bowls. “MC, what’re you doing here?”

You lifted up the tray with both hands and presented the meal you made with him. The creamy broth with hearty vegetables and noodles would surely make him feel better. “I made you both soup since you aren’t feeling well.”

He frowned deeply, a look of loss in his eyes. “I’m not hungry, and Belphie’s asleep.” A simple glance past Beel’s body, and you could indeed see a lump in Belphie’s bed, many lumps in fact. There must’ve been plenty new additions to his pillow collection. “I’m sorry you went through the trouble,” Beel sighed, and went to shut the door. You quickly brought your attention back to the demon at hand, shocked and a little hurt that he would shut you out. He had never done that, ever. All of his other brothers, sure, but him? He always had his door and his arms wide open for you at all times. You used your leg to push open the door.

“Beel wait, please, you haven’t eaten all day. How are you going to give your body enough strength to heal if you don’t give it any fuel?” You looked up at him expectantly, worried for him. He had said those same words to you once before when you accidentally skipped out on a meal. He was always aware of what you had eaten and when, making sure you had all the balanced meals your body needed. It was about time you returned the favor. 

“But the medicine…” He pressed one hand to his gut, his nose wrinkling up at the mention of food. You noticed him sway a little in place before he gripped the door tightly for balance. The usual glow in his countenance had gone dull, and it broke your heart. He seemed to always be strong, always be positive, always have a smile on his face when it came to food and family. Now, he just seemed out of it, eager to head back to bed with both you and the bowls on the other side of the door. You cursed the tray for occupying both of your hands. You wanted to go wrap him up in your arms, even if he was much bigger than you were.

“The medicine might be why you feel sick to your stomach in the first place, you didn’t eat anything before Lucifer gave it to you, didn’t you?” Your words brought his eyes up from staring at the floor and back to you. Orange strands of his hair were freed from the skin on his forehead as he shook his head to your question. An answer wasn’t quite necessary anyway, from the fighting you heard and Lucifer’s brief description, the older brother forced the medicine down both the twins throats before they had a chance to protest. You lifted the tray back up near Beel’s face, the contents of the bowls sloshed enough to almost drip over the edge. “You might feel better if you eat. Even just a little?”

The look of your begging eyes just peeking up over the top of the tray made Beel shift around on his feet. He looked like he was having an intense internal debate. The door in his hand was creaking open and shut while he decided if he wanted to let you in or not. Your heart sank as he seemed to come to the conclusion to prevent you from entering, the door almost clicking back into place to leave you in an empty hallway. Then he brought it back wide open, his eyes a little watery as he made it up in his mind that he could never shut you out like that. Your chest swelled as he let you in, shutting the door quietly behind you.

The room was almost consumed in pitch darkness as soon as the entrance closed. The only light source seemed to be coming from Beel’s side of the room emanating from the screen of his D.D.D. on his nightstand. It worked well enough as you followed Beel’s silhouette to make your way to his bed. You waited until the demon climbed back onto his mattress, sitting up while he pulled the covers over his legs. Not wanting to speak as to disturb Belphie, you extended one finger from the tray handle and pointed at his bed as a question. He nodded and you sat down right beside his thigh, placing the tray on his lap. His blankets were soft, and with a stroke of your hand, you smoothed out some of the wrinkles.

The sight of the soup made Beel grimace at first, and he looked back up at you with pleading eyes, like he was begging you not to make him eat. Your stern but comforting expression let his shoulders sag down in defeat, and he picked up a golden spoon. You rubbed the side of his arm as the glint of dim light reflected off the utensil. He scooped up some of the soup and put it into his mouth.

For a moment, he looked like he was about to be sick, forcing himself to take a moment to breathe in deeply as you silently comforted him in the dark. Scooting up from your spot on the bed, you got closer to his body, reaching around to rub his back and shoulders as he composed himself. You leaned in, whispering into his ear.

“Is my cooking really that bad?” You frowned, embarrassed, unsure if his reaction was towards your talents in the kitchen or the state of his sickly body. He didn’t answer you. Once the first spoon had settled, he quickly went for another taste. You braced yourself for another terrible reaction. He lowered his head so you couldn’t see his face in the light, the spoon between his fingers was trembling. You attempted to grab the tray, ready to have a word with Satan about his supposed recipe he had given you. Beel covered your hand with his, closing around it and giving it a squeeze.

His head raised back up, small tears making their way down his cheeks. He leaned in towards you, his chin almost resting on your shoulder. “It’s...so delicious. May I...eat it?” You almost let out a chuckle as you squeezed Beel’s hand back in return, your other hand resting on the back of Beel’s head as you gave his hair some gentle strokes. The Demon of Gluttony had just asked you if he was allowed to eat the food you had made specifically for him.

“Yes, Beel, I made it for you.”

He sat up away from you, the happy glow returned to his eyes as he went to work not only downing the bowl for him, but the bowl for Belphie as well. You made a mental note to come take care of the other twin later, right now you were focused on Beel. Sick or not, he still was strong and fast enough to consume both servings in a few minutes. You took the tray and set it on his nightstand.

He already looked so much better, color in his cheeks, more light in his eyes, and a little less swaying. You went to go stand up to leave, but two big arms wrapped around your body to hold you in place. The hot skin on Beel’s cheek pressed against your forehead as he sighed in relief.

“Thank you,” he mumbled.

You rested your head against his chest as he held you even tighter. “You’re welcome, Beel. I’ll bring you all the soup you want until you feel better.”

He buried his nose in your hair, his hands gripping your shirt. He leaned back against his headboard, bringing you along with him as you almost laid on top of him. It didn’t seem like he was going to let you go anytime soon. He closed his eyes and with one hand he flipped his D.D.D over so there was nothing but blackness in the room.

He breathed deeply, slowly sliding down until he was fully flat on his bed. You were right on top of him as his chest moved you slightly up and down with each of his slow breaths. He sleepily whispered one last phrase before he drifted into slumber. “You’re much better than any soup in the world.”

[fatiguing-thoughts]

“Natural” - Chapter 13 - Embry Call x Reader

Movie Night

Waking up in the morning with Embry in my bed was a level of comfort and serenity that I don’t think I could ever describe. I look over at his peaceful form, the sun shining in through the fold in the curtain. 

I watch as his chest rises up and down, his slow, peaceful breathing accompanied by a very light snore. His black hair falling over his face that’s nuzzled deep into my pillow. His warm, russet skin shining in the sun beams. His warmth radiating against my colder skin. 

“Good morning.” His raspy voice mumbles against the pillow. 

“Good morning, Em.” I whisper. 

“What’re you looking at, beautiful?” He smirks.

“Just you.” I blush.

I don’t honestly believe that this is something I’ll ever get used to. Embry, and everything about him, felt like an absolute blessing. It felt surreal, really. 

“Awe, bean. You’re cute when you blush.” 

“Stop.” I whine, slightly giggling. 

“No, I like it. It’s cute.” He sits up, wrapping his arms around me. 

“I mean, thank you.” I look down at my hands. 

“So, I was thinking.” Embry begins.

“That’s a first.” I tease, poking his nose.

“Hah hah, very funny. Anyway, what if we went camping? Now that I won’t have to be here for patrol tonight or tomorrow. We can leave today and spend a night out, and come home for tomorrow. Then you can see your friend and Leah.” His vibrant smile beaming brighter than the sunlight. 

“I would love that. We can start packing now.” I shriek, having a difficult time to contain my excitement. 

“Of course.” He smiles, leaving a kiss on my lips. 

I practically spring up from my bed and begin packing my backpack full of any clothes I would need for tonight and tomorrow. I put on a pair of jeans and throw on a t-shirt. 

“Someone’s excited.” Embry chuckles. 

“We’ve always talked about camping together, and now we can.” I turn around, smiling. 

“I know, I’m so excited to go with you.” He smiles, pulling me close to him. 

His hands grab my hips, driving me nuts as usual. I trace my fingers up his biceps until my arms wrap around his neck, pulling myself up to kiss his soft lips once again. His hands tighten their grip on my hips as he deepens the kiss.

“We have to finish packing.” He pulls away breathlessly. 

“That we do.” I shake my head. 

“We can continue that later tonight.” He gives me a cheeky smirk. 

I nod as my cheeks are deepening to another shade of red. 

I grab some blankets, pillows, and search for sleeping bags in the closet downstairs. 

We pack some food for the small trip before heading over to Embry’s house to pick up his tent and clothes for him to wear. 

I look around for Tiffany while we were here, alas she had to have been working. 

“Have you talked to her the last few days or have you been completely MIA?” I ask as he packs a backpack for himself.

“She thought I was camping with everyone. We’re in contact.” He looks back at me. 

“Good. I don’t want her to worry herself to death.” I smile at him. 

“Me neither.” He sighs. 

We make our way back to my car and he leads the way to a site of his choice. 

“I’ll give it to you, Em. You know these woods better than anyone else.” I chuckle.

“I know, I’m basically a map now.” He laughs, pointing in the direction to turn. 

I follow his navigation and after an hour or so of driving, we eventually make it to a trail leading to a clearing, thankfully a bathroom within walking distance. 

We grab all of our stuff and begin our journey to the clearing. Embry and I set up the tent relatively quickly.

“I’m hungry.” Embry whines.

“You’re always hungry.” I giggle. 

“Yeah, and?” He laughs. 

“So let’s eat.” I smile, reaching into the food we packed. 

I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I pull it out to see a text from Alyssa. 

“Hey (Y/N), are you free tomorrow?” - Alyssa

“Yes I am. Do you wanna come over for a pizza and movie night?” - me

“Sure, sounds good. Should I bring anything?” - Alyssa

“Nope. I can invite my friends, too. If you’d like. :)” - me

“That sounds fun.” - Alyssa

“Okay, come for like 6.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

I place the phone back in my pocket after sending her my address and take a sip of water. 

“We should invite everyone over tomorrow at seven. I told Alyssa there would be a pizza and movie night at my house, but she’s coming at six.” 

“Sounds fun, I’ll send a text in the group chat.” He says, pulling his phone out.

“Great.” I smile. 

We finished eating and cleaned everything up. 

“Can we go on a hike?” I ask.

“Of course, beautiful.” His large hand reaches out for mine, pulling me off the stump I sat on.

I follow Embry’s lead the whole walk, which took about an hour or so. We played a lot of iSpy on the way, though.

A chipmunk, the recycling bin, the bag of cheetos someone left on the floor (which I picked up and threw out), the trees, my backpack, and the dog poop someone didn’t pick up like they were supposed to. Those were the answers to the iSpy game we had. 

“Okay, we’re here.” Embry smiles. 

“Wow, it’s beautiful.” I admire the view.

We were in a canyon of sorts, admiring some of the beauty that the Olympic National Forest has to offer. I look down, noticing the drop off, my heartbeat beginning to race.

“I won’t let you fall, bean.” His arm wrapping around my waist. 

“Thank you.” I continue to look around.

Embry always washed my fears away easily. Being with Embry made me feel invincible. I felt all my worries melt away.

I look over at him, smiling at the beautiful boy. 

We sat there for a few hours, enjoying each other’s company as well as the view before heading back to the campsite. 

It was beginning to get dark and I heard Embry’s stomach grumbling. 

“I can start the fire and then we can eat.” I smile at him. 

“Sounds good to me, bean.” I felt warm, soft lips press to my temple. 

The light from the fire created cast orange all around it, the crackling soothing my ears. The smell bringing me a new sense of peace. 

Embry and I ate dinner and roasted s’mores. I sat basically velcroed to his side, just how I like. 

“Look at the stars.” He points up to the sky. 

“Wow.” I breathe out. 

“Come on, let’s stargaze.” He grabs my hand, leading me over to the picnic table at our site. 

We lay on it, both of us laying our heads on his arms. 

“I like that one.” I point up to the sky.

“Which one? There’s like forty in that direction.” He chuckles.

“That one, Em.” I point again. 

“Ahhh, nice. It’s pretty.” He agrees. 

“You don’t even know which one I’m talking about.” I giggle.

“I don’t have to. I know it’s beautiful, they all are. Just like you.” He presses a kiss to my cheek. 

I turn over to him and press my lips to his. His hands once again find my hips, pulling me into his side. 

“Maybe we should go into the tent.” I raise an eyebrow.

“I think we should.” His smirk sends chills up my spine. 

And so we did, we took it to the tent. 

Soon after, we fell asleep holding each other. 

In the morning, the smell of the trees pleasantly invaded their way into my senses. The heat from the sun invading through the polyester walls. 

“Good morning.” Embry’s raspy morning voice once again sending chills up my spine.

“Morning, Em.” I smile at him. 

“Let’s eat.” He smiles, springing himself up from the sleeping bag. 

“You got it.” I smile, following suit. 

I caught Embry staring at me, once again. Not something out of the ordinary, though I always wondered why.

“What’s wrong, do I have something on my face?” I ask.

“No, it’s just you. You’re so beautiful.” A blush finds its way to his cheeks, following an uncontrollable grin.

“Awe, Em.” I coo, walking myself over and sitting in his lap.

“I just feel so lucky.” He breathes into my neck.

“Me too. Like the luckiest girl in the world.” I smile, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek. 

Sitting in Embry’s presence felt better than merely being near anyone else. It was as if sitting in silence with Embry could beat any conversation with anyone else. I guess that’s a soulmate, though. 

“What time is it?” I ask him. 

“A little past noon.” He shrugs. 

“Okay. So who’s coming tonight?” 

“Well, Seth and Leah for sure. Jacob can’t because he’s basically broken in half for a bit longer. Quil said he would. Overall, the rest of them said they’re busy with their friends or families. Well, Jared said he’s too busy ‘doing hot girl shit,’ whatever that means.” 

“Alright. Good for Jared, I think that’s a tik tok thing. But Seth, Leah, Quil, Alyssa, and us sounds like a good group.” I chuckle. 

“It definitely is.” He laughs, pulling me closer to his chest. 

“Well, we should probably head home soon. By the time we got back it’s gonna be after three. And then cleaning all this crap up.” I sigh.

“We can do this again, whenever you want to.” He smiles at me.

“I would like that.” I press a kiss to his forehead. 

His warm chest felt like home, and maybe that’s why I always felt like Forks was my home. It was my ticket to Embry my whole life. 

We pack up the site and make our hike back down the trail to my car. The drive back once again blasting our shared playlist, revisiting all the feelings we held secret for years. 

Embry insisted we stop at his house first since his mother was at work. My heart ached for both him and his mother. Secrets like this are good for neither of them, I couldn’t imagine the pain it brought to them. 

The drive to my house was quick, and unpacking all of our stuff didn’t take too long. 

I check the time and see it to be after 3:30. 

“Well, what can we do now?” I look over to Embry. 

“Well, we could get stuff ready. Or we can make out.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me.

“I mean, one of those is far more tempting than the other.” I smirk, walking closer to him. 

Next thing I knew, we were on my couch, his warm body pressed against mine. His soft lips pressing onto mine with slight aggression. Embry drove me nuts, there was no denying that. 

Some time later, we pulled apart breathlessly. 

“Maybe I should get the living room ready.” I smile at him.

“I think so.” He kisses my forehead. 

I grab pillows and blankets, creating a comfortable area on the floor for whoever decides to take that instead of the couches. Also blankets for Alyssa and I, as most people who don’t run 108.9 like when they watch movies. I grab snacks and drinks from the latest grocery shopping trip and bring them into the living room, leaving them on the coffee table. 

“Alyssa should be getting here soon.” I say happily.  

“You excited to see her?” Embry asks me with a kind smile.

“Very. That was one of my only actual friends in Forks.” I return his smile back to him.

“That’s exciting. And now she gets to meet all your La Push friends.” 

“She does. And it will be great to finally have some merger there.” 

We sat back on the couch, chatting about more things to do on the next camping trip as we were much less limited than others in terms of safety and location. Discussing a group trip with our friends. 

Our conversation was interrupted by a knock on my front door. 

“Alyssa!” I swing the door open, smiling. 

“(Y/N)!” She laughs. 

“Come in, let’s catch up.” I pull her in for a hug.

“Yes please.” She giggles. 

“Nobody else is gonna be here for an hour, I left that for us to talk about life.” I chuckle. 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

“I’ll go take a nap, let you guys have your girl talk.” Embry says, kissing my forehead before waving and jogging upstairs to my room. 

“So… how is life? How is everything?” I ask.

“Well, my girlfriend and I broke up about a year ago. She cheated on me. So that wasn’t fun, but other than that I’m doing great. I got the program I wanted to a few months ago, I’m gonna become a teacher.” She smiled. 

“That’s incredible! Congrats. On the school thing. But as for Chelsea? Seriously? You guys were together from like freshman year of high school. What a witch.” I look at her with comforting eyes.

“Yeah, right? She’s not worth being sad about anymore, though. I’m ready to have fun again, I’ve been okay for a while. I go to school in the fall and I’ll be dorming. I’m quite excited. What’re you doing for school?” She smiles at me. 

“Well, I got into the program I want, too. I’m going to be going online, though. But I’m studying economics, I think I want to go to law school.” I smile.

“That’s great! Congratulations.” She beams. 

“Right. Wait, where are you going to school?” 

“University of Washington. I’m excited.” 

“No shot, me too.” I smile. 

“No way, you’ll have to come hang out at my dorm sometimes. You’re gonna need to make friends.” She encourages me. 

“That sounds like fun.” 

We catch up some more before I notice the time. I decided to call to order the pizza at 6:45, that way it would come shortly after people got here. I ordered five pies.

“Five pies? How many of your other friends are coming?” She asks. 

“Uhh, I think there’s gonna be like six of us all together.” I shrug.

“Don’t you think that five pies is a lot?” She asks me, raising her eyebrow. 

“Definitely not with them. There is no end to their hunger.” I laugh. 

“If you say so.” She laughs, doubting my words. 

“You’ll see.” I chimed. 

I tell her that I should go wake Embry up and begin my walk up the stairs.

I open my door and she his silhouette laying in the bed. The darkness of my room made it impossible to make much else out.

“Embry, wake up.” I say walking over to my bed.

“Already?” He laughs.

“Yeah, already.” I chuckle, placing a hand on his shoulder to wake him up.

“Alright, only for you.” He sits up, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“Thanks. Let’s get downstairs.” I mumble, thankfully the darkness hid the reddening of my cheeks at his softspoken words.

“Good morning, Alyssa.” Embry yawns from the stairway. 

“Good morning?” She laughs at his goofiness. 

A knock at the door interrupts us. I walk over to see Quil, Seth, and Leah. 

“Hey!” I smile. 

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Seth beams with his contagious smile.

“What’s up, dork?” Quil laughs.

“Hey, (Y/N).” Leah says softly, smiling at me. 

“Come on in, the pizza should be here soon.” 

“Thank god, I’m starving.” Quil huffs. 

“I just watched you eat two big macs an hour ago.” Leah looks at him.

“Okay, and?” He laughs.

“Alright everyone, this is my friend Alyssa. Alyssa this is Quil, Seth, and Leah.” I smile, pointing to everyone down the line.

“Hello.” She smiles, waving at everyone. Looking at them as I point.

Though her face stopped at one. 

I look and follow her gaze, noticing it stopped at the last face. Leah’s.

Leah had a dazed look on her face, mouth slightly agape. 

My eyes widen, looking at Embry’s face that mimicked my shock. In fact, so did Quil’s and Seth’s. 

“Hey.” Alyssa exhales. 

“Hi.” Leah mumbled, her face quickly turning to one of confusion. 

“Oh, this took a turn.” Quil mumbled, in which Seth quickly swatted him with his arm. 

I gave Quil a glare, letting him know that now was not a time for jokes. 

“Alright, so let’s pick a movie. What movie?” I ask everyone, trying to break the silence. 

“Let’s watch The Cat in The Hat.” Quil chuckles. 

“It’s a true cinematic masterpiece.” Embry agrees. 

“What is wrong with you?” I laugh. 

“I mean, it is really funny. We used to talk about it in class all the time.” Alyssa laughs.

“You’re right. Is everyone good with watching that? I think we all need a good laugh.” I smile. 

“Yeah. That works.” Leah mumbles.

“Sure. I’m down to watch anything.” Seth smiles. 

“Great.” I turn the TV on and begin playing the movie. 

Leah takes a spot on the floor by herself, in front of Quil and Seth that took the couch next to the one that Embry and I sat on. Alyssa found herself a spot on the other side of me. 

About fifteen minutes into this nonsense, I hear knocking at the door once again.

“Do you want me to pause it, babe?” Embry asks.

“Please don’t.” I smile and walk to the door to get the pizza. 

“Your loss.” Quil huffs, laughing at the movie. 

I roll my eyes as I get the pizza from the door. 

“Let me help you.” I hear Leah say behind me, grabbing the pizza from me so I can pay the delivery guy.

“Thanks, Leah. You can keep the change.” I smile at him. 

“You got it. Where’s your bathroom? Also can I borrow a warmer shirt? I’m cold.” She asks, putting the pizza down next to the snacks on the coffee table. 

I look at her confused, as she knows where the bathroom is down here, also because this girl would never be cold. It’s then that I noticed the look in her eyes. She didn’t have to use the bathroom and she wasn’t cold. She needed to talk and she needed to talk now. 

“You can use the one upstairs, there’s one next to my room. I’ll show you where it is and I’ll get you a sweater.” I nod. 

“I’m kinda cold, too. Can I also have a sweater?” Seth asks, noticing the discomfort in his sister.

Quil and Embry look at Seth with a dumbfounded look, though I wave them off. 

“Uh, yeah. Come follow, too.” I manage to say. 

All three of us walk up the stairs and into my room.

“Are you okay?” I ask Leah, shutting my door. 

“I don’t know, I’m so confused.” She says softly, 

“I understand. That was a lot.” I lay a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Seth walks over and places another comforting hand on Leah’s other arm. 

“I just… Everything I saw felt so right. I just, I don’t know her. I didn’t think I would imprint on a woman. It’s not even that I’m mad about it, I always felt attracted to some women, I just never actually dated any. I just assumed I either wouldn’t imprint or I would imprint on a man, because none of the guys ever imprinted on another guy, even in the stories. But what do I make of it?” She asks me in a panic, speaking a million miles a minute. 

“I know, I know. Of course it feels right, it’s supposed to. But just remember, it doesn’t have to be romantic if you don’t want it to be.” I remind her. 

“It was in what I saw. I saw us together, I saw us happily holding hands. I saw us kissing. I saw us cuddling by a fire. I saw it all.” She looks at me with concerned eyes. 

“Leah, it’s okay. It’s all okay. That’s beautiful, if it’s what you want.” I say.

“Leah, if you’re afraid about imprinting on another woman, don’t worry about that. I don’t care. Mom doesn’t care. Nobody here would care. We love you for you and we want you to be happy.” Seth rubs her back comfortingly. 

“You mean that?” Her lip starts to quiver. 

“Of course. You’re my sister, you’re my best friend.” Seth pulls her into a hug. 

“Leah, I’m here for you every step of the way. We all are. I think that you should be her friend, see how that goes. If it develops further, then it does. If not, don’t stress. You’d then have another best friend.” I smile at her. 

“Thank you.” She smiles, nodding her head and hugging me. 

“Who knows, Leah? Take things as they come. We’ll be here every step of the way, okay?” 

“Okay.” She nods.

“Bring it in.” Seth grabs us both and pulls us into a huge hug. 

The crushing weight of his arms was one that felt really nice. I felt all the love in this hug. We stay like this for a few moments before I break the silence. 

“Let’s go get some pizza before Quil and Embry eat it all. Or torture Alyssa.” I laugh. 

“You’re right. We’ve been up here a little long.” Leah smiles softly.

“They better have saved us some pizza.” Seth huffs. 

“I’m sure they did. They might’ve killed two pies already, though.” I chuckle walking out of my room and down the stairs, Seth and Leah trailing close behind. 

“Welcome back, you missed a lot.” Quil chuckles. 

“Shut up. There better be pizza left.” I glare at him and Embry.

“There is, there is.” Embry defends, placing his hands up in surrender, chewing on his pizza.

“Good, I’m starving.” Seth says, grabbing two slices from the box. 

Leah and I both grab a slice before sitting back in our spots. 

“Where’s your sweater, Seth?” Quil teases. 

“They didn’t fit him.” I look at Quil with hard eyes.

“Yeah, it was a shame.” Seth laughs on the couch. 

The rest of the movie was filled with laughter. I sat in Embry’s lap, appreciating the warmth he brought me. 

“Next movie?” Embry asks. 

“We can watch Jackass.” Quil suggests. 

“Oh yeah, because you guys just need ideas. You, Paul, and Jared will be tearing up the town by tomorrow morning if we watch that.” I laugh.

“You got me there.” Quil laughs. 

“Great, it’s settled. We’re watching Mean Girls.” I announce.

“Oh god.” Quil whines. 

“It’s a great movie, you’re gonna love it at the end of the night. You’ll be quoting it, guaranteed.” I tell him.

“It is a great movie.” Alyssa agrees. 

So we watch it, and halfway through the movie I notice that nobody is more invested than Quil, Embry, and Seth. Causing the girls and I to laugh at them. 

After the movie ended, we all began to get up and stretch.

“Thank you for having me, (Y/N). I think I’m gonna get going now, though. I have work in the morning but I had fun, we should all hang out again some time. It was great to meet you all.” She smiles, hugging me goodbye. 

“Yeah, of course, we should hang out again soon. I’ll walk you to the door.” I smile, leading Alyssa to the door and watching her get into her car, noticing Leah do just the same. 

“Thank you!” She calls out as she gets into her car. 

I waved goodbye before shutting the door as she drove off. 

“Well, we should all probably get going soon.” Leah trails off. 

“Alright, I’ll see you guys soon.” I smile before I pull her into a really tight hug.

“Thank you.” She whispers in my ear before pulling away.

“Bye, (Y/N). Thanks for having us. I had fun.” He smiles before they take off.

“I mean, I should probably leave, too. I know you guys value your alone time, now.” Quil wiggles his eyebrows. 

“Shut up, dick.” Embry pulls him into a headlock, giving him a noogie. 

“That’s a weird way to say thank you for helping you not be a father at 18, but okay.” He laughs, wrestling Embry back. 

“Thanks, Quil. I thank you for your help. But Embry did say he would do this.” I giggle. 

“Fine, go get your own condoms from now on. I’m not taking them from Paul for you anymore!” He laughs as they roll around. 

“You stole them from Paul?” I laugh from the couch.

“Yeah, I hold you two with a very high value.” Quil tells me. 

“I see. Enough to risk a beating from Paul.” I laugh.

They both eventually tire themselves out and joining me on the couch.

“You guys done, yet?” I ask. 

“Yeah, I just had to kick his ass.” Embry kisses my temple. 

“Still a weird way to thank me.” Quil laughs.

I can’t help but laugh at my two goofy ass best friends.

“I should go, and you should go home for once before your mom has a heart attack.” Quil says, looking at Embry. 

“You’re right.” He sighs, standing up.

“You should, she probably misses you.” I encourage him.

“I know. I love you, bean. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. 

“Sounds good.” I smile, hugging him.

“Embry, you don’t talk to me like that. I’m hurt.” Quil places a hand over his chest, faking a pained face. 

“Oh shut it.” Embry shoves him, laughing. 

“Goodnight, guys. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

I watch as they walk over to the treeline, knowing exactly how they were getting to their homes. 

I go up into my room and lay in bed, reliving the last few days of my life. 

How fuckin nuts that just two days ago I was face to face with vampires that wanted to kill me.

And tonight I watched The Cat in The Hat. 

Man, life’s pretty weird. 

I pick up my phone and sent a text to Embry.

I love you.

I put the phone on my nightstand, and drifted off.

_________________________ Word Count: 4371

 I  II  III  IV  V  VI  VII  VIII  VIIII  X  XIR XIE  XII  XIII  XIV  XV XVI  XVII  XVIII  XIIII

[lycanthrop-ee]

Ghosting - Empty House

A/N: !!!!! It’s here! I’m so, so pumped for this- welcome to the Empty House AU! This is the first piece of content I’m publishing and it’s a one-shot from a bigger universe, but it’s also absolutely a stand-alone fic. It’s a self-indulgent, analogical-centric human AU that’s has been floating around my hollow skull for months now, so there’s a lot of doodles backed up if any of yall would like to see that ;) There will be an AU taglist, but I also have an individual writing taglist!

Synopsis: Logan has finally moved out of his childhood home into a family-sized house where he plans to finish college online. His simple plans are complicated when a strange, sad-looking boy starts showing up outside...

Word count: 4,306

Ships: Endgame romantic Analogical

CW: (spoilers) Pre-plot major character death, swearing, anxiety attack, very mildly implied previous parental abuse, be safe kiddos and ask to tag!

The first time Logan saw the boy was the day he moved in. 

The empty house had stood hollowly beside its driveway, Logan feeling small without his siblings or parents or any of his rarely acquired friends by his side. He wasn’t a sociable person, but he’d always been surrounded by noise at home, and lots of it… he’d never been in a house as still as the one he stepped into that day. The dark wooden floors were cleanly swept, except for the corners and trimmings which had little fields of grey dust dotting the deep brown. The refrigerator made a hungry humming noise, protesting its suddenly empty shelves- Logan knew a family of four had lived there before, and that they’d given him a pretty hefty discount on the house. That’s all he knew.

The floor in the entrance hall creaked underfoot, and the walls seemed to turn away as they saw him- not who they’d been expecting, not worth their attention. That was fair. 

The house had three bedrooms and two floors- altogether a strange layout. Two of the bedrooms were downstairs, situated in a small hallway off the kitchen, and one was tucked into a little corner upstairs, where the only other rooms consisted of a bathroom and a large, carpeted playroom that was mostly empty now. Logan figured it would have been a favorite of the kids when they were smaller, but now the only furniture was a faux leather couch and a television, as well as a couple of out-of-place armchairs that had never gotten much human use from the look of their fur-covered seats.

With just him taking up the whole house, he hardly saw the point in using the upstairs bedroom. The house felt big already- rationally, it would be better to localize downstairs. All he really needed was his room, the kitchen, and the little living room next to the entrance. That was enough for him- in fact, even that was too silent. He missed the screams of his brothers as affectionately as anyone could- which honestly varied day to day. 

Today, he was disproportionately affectionate. 

It paired well with the fear.

Logan was just about ready to start tearing himself apart over the family members he’d left behind- the only ones that mattered- when the boy caught his eye.

The day had been gray and dreary, the trees heavy with the prospect of rain and the air cool enough to promise it, but it had only started drizzling in the few minutes since Logan had been inside. The sky had seemed to darken remarkably quickly, especially strange without the presence of thunder or even heavy rain, and in the middle of it all was a lanky figure who looked for all the world like a member of the fae.

He stood at the side of the road, looking in the house’s general direction- in Logan’s general direction, although he was sure the other wouldn’t be able to see through his windows. His face would’ve been hidden by the dark hair poking out from under his hood were he not so painfully pale, and his brown irises were visible to Logan only because of the piercing contrast of his skin. 

His jacket was oversized, but his beanpole frame managed to show through regardless. The rainwater gradually weighed it down until the boy looked almost a skeleton, Logan frozen watching him for what could have been minutes- and then the frame heaved in a breath and ambled stiffly away. 

Obviously Logan’s first worries had to do with an unhinged white male teenager breaking into his new house- the one he had full responsibility for and few precious savings to repair. It was irrational, he knew, but his second thought was that the boy hadn’t looked capable of any harm- or really of much at all. He looked weighed down, depressed, and Logan was sure that it wasn’t just the water soaking his sweatshirt. The boy had looked sad. 

And he continued to. Frighteningly often, the teenager appeared outside Logan’s house. Each time he looked quite the same: above average height but considerably shorter than Logan himself, skinny, and almost other-worldly in his strange mish-mash of dark eyes and pearly flesh. While Logan knew that his first sight of the boy had been strange in the sudden change of weather, he could- and completely intended to- count it as a coincidence of Florida’s strange climate.  

He settled into a sort of pattern, although the boy didn’t seem to follow one. Each time he saw the figure outside his house, he would take a break from his endless work. He’d make himself some tea, sit in the window, and wait for the boy to leave. This way, he told himself, if he tried anything, Logan would be there to intercept him. He chose not to think about the possibility of it happening at night or while he was away, and he kept far away from the crime shows he’d occasionally enjoyed in the past. This way, too, he could get a good look at his visitor each time. It was almost as though he was keeping tabs on him, and at the tail end of his fear came a strange protectiveness. 

It was after about a month of this- Logan looking for job applications and living off of his savings, edgewise- that Logan pulled into his driveway at one of the key moments of his life. The boy stood unsteadily at the side of the road, sweatshirt ever-present even in the heat. Logan got out of his car carefully, his heart in his throat- though, really, did any part of him think the boy capable of much at this point? 

He’d have expected the kid to run as soon as he’d pulled in, but when Logan looked him over he saw the boy studying him, bouncing on the balls of his feet. It struck Logan anew in their close proximity how thin he was.

Almost thoughtlessly, he started across the lawn towards the boy. He had to remind himself to uphold formalities- no matter how many times they’d stared at each other across the way, they’d never once spoken. He didn’t know this kid, not really- and now it occurred to him that the boy was more than a kid. He couldn’t be much younger than himself. Logan halted a few respectful steps from the boy, who eyed him strangely.

Close up… he looked, somehow, the same as he did from across the lawn. His features were simple, small mouth and nose easy to overlook for his huge, shadowed eyes. He really did remind one of a fairytale, or even- perhaps more accurately- a Tim Burton. 

Logan opened his mouth to speak, but paused for a moment. They watched each other.

“Would you like to come in for tea?” He finally inquired, the words escaping him overly familiar. The boy raised his eyebrows almost undetectably, seeming confused, and Logan caught himself almost leaning forward in anticipation of the other’s first words to him.

“You’re not Patton,” the boy said, voice just above a murmur and hoarse. Logan hesitated, confused, and studied the expression that would’ve been bored were it not for the slight tremble in his lips and a hint of surprise- Logan supposed neither of them had planned what had escaped their mouths. He reached up with a thin arm and brushed the back of his hand gently across his eyes. A spark of something strange flickered in Logan’s chest- this man was possibly not all there. He wracked his brain for labels- depression? Mild psychosis? Dissociation?

Either way, this was not someone he should invite into his house without more information- but as that regretfully occurred to him, the first drops of afternoon rain hit the tip of his noise. He wondered if the boy would stand out here after Logan went outside, and if so, for how long. 

“No, I’m not,” he found himself saying. “My name is Logan. It is raining- would you like to come in?”

He was exceedingly aware of the boy’s breathing as they stepped out of the rain, something that would normally drive him insane- somehow he didn’t mind this time. His presence was almost calming after weeks of bringing a break from Logan’s ceaseless work. It assured him that the ghostly pale man was real, which was never a problem he thought he’d be debating... but here was this skeleton-thin, strange-mannered man entering his house as though he’d been there a million times before.

He carefully slid his shoes off, paying close attention to the floor- and no attention to Logan. 

“I’ll make tea,” the latter found himself mumbling. “Do you want to come into the kitchen?”

“I’m gonna go upstairs,” the boy said. Logan blinked.

“I- you… this is my house?” He stuttered, trying to be assertive- surely that crossed a line? He’d never seen this kid before a month ago- but there he went, lugging himself up the stairs like he belonged there. O-kay. 

Logan backed into the drafty kitchen to put the kettle on.

Time to listen to his voice of reason, he decided. Clearly this boy had been in the house before- hopefully before Logan had moved in- and knew his way around. And clearly his mental state had some connection to the house- whether positive or negative, Logan couldn’t yet tell. So, he concluded, it’s possible that he had lived here before. The married couple that had sold him the house had mentioned a son, but they’d been moving out of town- how would the boy have made his way back almost daily? There was a bus line in the area... but who was Patton, and why had his absence been unexpected?

There was clearly missing information here, and thus the situation was theoretically dangerous. The logical thing to do would be to contact the authorities for more information- maybe the boy was a local that they were familiar with. If that were the case, they would know how to handle him. 

On the other hand… it was, put simply, a puzzle. Wasn’t it? Logan was smart; he was in online college and he was passing quite well. He had an A in psych so far. He just needed a few more minutes with the boy and he’d figure it out. He could help him... why else would he show up outside his house? 

He needed Logan.

There goes rational thought, Logan sighed as the kettle started to whistle, turning off the stovetop and moving the pot to the side. Something made him turn around- the boy was watching him from the doorway, looking almost more upset than usual. His wide eyes were watery, and as Logan hesitated he wiped an arm across his face again, expression turning to frustration. He avoided Logan’s gaze. “You said you were making tea?” He said, carefully controlled voice just above a whisper. Logan was startled out of his stupor by the boy’s coherence.

“I, um- yes! Yes, would you- what kind?”

“Earl grey? No sugar, just a bit of milk...” he carefully pulled a chair from the small table, slumping into it and reaching to fidget with the salt shaker. “Please.”

The boy’s words stirred Logan into movement and he grabbed two mugs out of the mostly barren cabinet before pulling a pre-packaged tea bag from the tea box on the counter. He unwrapped the tea and dropped one bag in each mug, pouring steaming water from the kettle into them with a satisfying noise. The warm humidity and pleasant smell caressed Logan’s face, and he took a moment to bask in it before returning to the present moment- if begrudgingly. As he set the empty kettle aside, the room quieted, the only sound the rain drizzling over the side of the roof. Logan crossed the space self-consciously to close the window. The boy’s eyes were pointedly focused on the table in front of him- Logan thought he felt more awkward this way than if the boy had been staring at him flat-out. Either way, he could feel his awareness of Logan like a thick fog. He snuck another look at the boy as he hovered beside a chair, unsure whether to sit opposite him. 

“My name is Logan,” he prompted, thoughts stumbling over each other to curse him for the repetition. 

“Thank you for the tea, Logan.”

...Well, at least that was something. His name sounded strange in the other boy’s hoarse, delicate voice- less mundane, somehow. He stood at the head of a table for one more moment that seemed to stretch out an eternity- the boy carefully spun the salt shaker around in his nimble fingers, swearing softly as some of the seasoning fell onto the table. Logan’s startled eyes studied the other’s flushed face.

And then his head caught up to him, and he shuttered into motion, rushing to the mostly empty fridge for milk and fetching the small bag of sugar he’d mercifully bought a few days before. 

“I... I’ve seen you around,” Logan’s mouth betrayed him again. That was creepy- although, looking at it objectively, it was much less creepy than being ‘around’ the way the boy had. The table behind was quiet for too long as he poured the milk. 

“...When’d you move in?” The voice was quiet and held a fragility that Logan hadn’t yet heard from the other. He was relieved to finally have an easy answer to one of the many questions he faced. And, indeed, his mouth finally obeyed him, even and direct.

“About a month ago.” He turned to face the table, the boy’s tea held stiffly between his hands. 

“Sorry,” he whispered as Logan set down the tea. “I knew someone’d moved in, but I guess… it was you.” The boy let out a hollow laugh, and Logan was swept with protectiveness once more.

“Don’t worry, I won’t alert the authorities.” Because that was the most comforting thing he could think of- he’d never been very tactful with delicate emotional situations. Predictably, the boy tensed. Logan decided it’d be advisable for him to move on. “What is your name, pray tell?”

Pray tell. Pray fucking tell? What was wrong with him? The boy cut him off before he could overthink the foot he’d just shoved in his mouth with the eloquence of an 1800s era schoolboy. 

“Patton.” A moment passed before a look of horror came over his face. “Or- no, I- it’s- Virgil! Virgil.”

Now- once again, logically- forgetting one's name was not a good sign. Of general coherence nor moral innocence. Logan knew this. 

Still, the boy looked uniquely upset by the mistake. 

Logan fetched his tea and sat down opposite him.

The other boy fidgeted incessantly, and Logan felt it fell on him to make Virgil more comfortable. He threw tact to the wind- it was tiresome anyway- in favor of distracting the other and himself from the strange fumble.

“Are you a local?”

He got a nod in response, Virgil holding the tea tightly between his hands. Logan couldn’t help but feel he’d made yet another mistake- obviously the boy wasn’t comfortable talking about himself, but was it worth Logan filling the silence with unprompted facts about himself? Would that bore Virgil? Was that rude? He let the gap in conversation rest for a moment before deciding he didn’t much care what was rude.

“This is my second year enrolled in online college- I skipped my senior year.”

The stupid non-sequitor sat in the middle of the table, sinking like a rock. Virgil managed to give him an incredulous look, even in the depths of... whatever it was that was affecting him. Logan panicked. 

Here are a few things about Logan Croft that were usually a given:

                  1. He often said things without regard to the effect they would have on others. 

                  2. He did not say things he didn’t believe to be true.

                  3. He did not readily employ personal information.

All of these rules had apparently been thrown out the window the second Virgil walked in his door. As soon as he realized this, he worked to reclaim them. “Virgil.”

The wind immediately blew out of his sails, and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Speaking abrasively had never been difficult for him, and this was not the time to adopt a new weakness. “I need to know who you are. You have shown up outside of my house for the past month, and while the reasoning behind this is presumably personal and not necessarily critical for me to know, I will at least need you to tell me your full name. Against my better judgement, I will not contact the authorities about your incessant invasion of my privacy, because I don’t altogether mind it- but if you are to have regular access to my house, we can’t continue this one-sided conversation.” Regular access to his house? When had Logan considered that option? As soon as he asked himself the question, he knew the answer- the feeling of someone appearing in the doorway, seeking Logan’s company… it was something that he’d missed sorely. It was something he needed.

The boy looked startled and altogether terrified by the long stream of words. Logan, still working hard to recover his sense and new to the inclination of softening his words on the behalf of strangers, disregarded this as best he could as he waited for an answer. 

It didn’t look like he was going to get one.

Virgil opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, putting the salt shaker down on it’s side like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. Logan felt a tug in his stomach to right it, afraid he’d get more salt on his table, but now didn’t seem like the time. 

As the moment stretched forward, his attention was grabbed away anyways, trying to decipher Virgil’s expression. It didn’t look good. 

In fact, it made his heart drop.

The boy looked withdrawn, fearful- like a bird with an injured wing or a snared fox. Damn it, damn it, damn it- Logan’s split-second adopted mantra was less than helpful, but it showed no signs of tapering off to make room for useful thoughts. Virgil’s eyes squeezed shut, and the instincts left over from Logan’s career as an older brother took over. 

He rushed to Virgil’s side on blind autopilot, laying a warm hand over his bony back. The boy jumped at the unexpected touch- and then leaned into it, a choked sob tearing itself from his throat. Oh no. Oh god. Damn it. 

Logan didn’t consider himself good with emotions. He did his best to comfort his younger brothers- god knows they needed it- but strangers were a whole new situation and honestly he didn’t feel much better about this than he expected the boy did.

Nevertheless. 

“Hey, I-” he took a knee to lower himself to Virgil’s level, steadying himself against the table awkwardly. “Um-”

He choked on what to say, but his mind latched to the one thing he knew. Virgil had responded positively to touch- and with little further thought, Logan bundled the shivering boy into his arms.

Logan would’ve immediately taken back the show of affection by any means necessary if Virgil hadn’t melted into the touch so readily- Logan was reminded of an oversized cat. 

That being said, Logan was holding a sobbing stranger in his arms in his new house, alone. Damn it, damn it, damn it.

Logan had always been the kid at family gatherings who did everything in his power to ward off physical contact from his overbearing relatives. Although this situation was completely different and altogether impossible to plan for and avoid, he found himself reacting in somewhat of the same way- each place that Virgil’s thin, trembling body touched his screamed at him to recoil.

He did not.

He brought to mind his brothers- not that they’d ever been particularly physically affectionate with him. They’d always turned to each other, and he’d been left to himself. Understandably. But he imagined if they had seeked his reassurance, if they’d ever been as upset as this stranger was now. If they’d let him in. 

But now someone was leaning on him for comfort, and he was determined to provide for them. Imagine if Remus had come to him for help, he kept thinking. Imagine if it were Roman. 

And all of a sudden he had to hold back tears himself. He tensed, carefully leaning Virgill back onto his chair- Logan’s chair. Sensing the other’s discomfort, the boy came back to himself like a fire blazing across dry wood. 

“Fuck- fuck, I-I’m-” the boy was off at a rushed stutter, scrambling to right himself and wiping his eyes angrily. Logan shook his head, patting Virgil’s shoulder awkwardly. 

“Drink your tea,” Logan said stiffly. “It’s okay. I don’t- do you need something?” Good job, he thought sarcastically. Just pretend it never happened. Show him that, apologies, you seem to have made him think you’re an emotional resource. He was wrong, you’re actually a sociopath. Once again, sorry for any inconvenience. 

Logan’s thoughts stuttered and shouted as he tried to fix whatever he’d done. Virgil was quite obviously shaking, almost unable to hold his tea to his lips although he did make an effort, and Logan resorted back to psych class- maybe not a panic attack, but certainly an emotional breakdown and possibly an anxiety attack. “Do you have a history of generalized anxiety disorder?” Logan asked automatically, the place where he should have held a capacity for compassion currently void for whatever stupid reason. “Or even a suspected case?” The thunderstorm in his mind froze entirely as Virgil’s watery brown eyes focused on him. 

“...I guess,” he rasped quietly, eyes flickering back to his hands as they picked at each other violently. “I dunno.”

Logan let out a long breath, sliding furtively into the chair opposite Virgil. 

“If you’re having an anxiety attack, it could be caused by a persistent disorder or a recent traumatic event- although recent is a problematically inspecific measurement-” 

“Uh, then I- I dunno. Still. I guess…” He shrugged, looking away. “How recent is recently?”

Logan tried to hold back a sigh of relief at the comparatively simple question.

“Generally, anxiety attacks are caused by a buildup of unfinished tasks or other irritants, although there’s often an overarching problem or incident. A traumatic event can cause emotional turmoil for years after it occurs- or for the remainder of one’s life, depending on it’s nature- but in most to all cases, the effects lessen as time goes on.” Virgil nodded slowly. 

“And- and what are the symptoms? Of an anxiety attack?” He pulled his legs up to his chest, presumably placating the urge to make himself smaller. Logan rattled off the characteristics quickly.

“Shaking, a feeling of unease, impulsive thoughts, nausea, panic, the sensation of being trapped or cornered, restlessness, hyperventilation, trouble concentrating, dyspnea- shortness of breath, that is- am I making sense?” He wrapped his hands around the cooling cup of tea in front of him, feeling the need to steady himself. Virgil nodded again- it was apparent he was a man of few words. That worked out wonderfully, Logan thought, as he himself seemed so bent on talking as much as humanly possible. 

“Yeah,” Virgil muttered- then stood up abruptly. “Um- I should probably go. Sorry for… yeah.” Logan, decidedly more alarmed at the idea than he should’ve been, got to his feet as well.

“No- I mean, you don’t… have to. If you’d rather- but if you feel the need to go- I mean, I don’t want you to…” Logan paused, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to get his damn mouth under the control of his brain. Had he said something wrong? Well, obviously he’d said many things wrong in the past minutes, but… he thought over the conversation. He’d only been saying the facts- just what he knew. Was there something he should have kept to himself? Was any of it too personal? It was just facts, statistics, symptoms- he cursed himself mentally, although he couldn’t tell precisely what for.

While he’d been deliberating- not panicking, never panicking- Virgil had frozen in place. Right. The whole blazing trainwreck of words he’d let out for no apparent reason. Where the hell had that even come from? He’d known this kid for a month- five minutes face-to-face- and he was already being weird and nonsensical. It took considerable effort to bring the circumstances of their meeting to mind and even the playing field in his subconscious. If they were both creepy, did it even out? “I-I meant... you’re welcome here.” 

Logan could see the gears turning in Virgil’s head as he fell back into his chair. A weight slid off of his shoulders as the air between them settled- they were even. Or something. 

As much as he expected to regret his words, he was surprised at the lack of protest from his thoughts. It was, for once, blessedly quiet both inside his head and out. Logan sat back down warily. “You obviously have some- some connection to this house.” Like some sort of undead apparition, he thought- but he had the sense to keep that, at least, inside. “I can’t tell if it has a positive or negative effect on your mental state as I seem to be an uncalled for variable in your visit. I’m no psychological authority... I know you’ll come back either way, and I don’t like imagining you back out in the rain.” A shiver went through the boy like a roll of thunder, and he nodded. 

“When can I come here again?”

[typicalmidnightsoul]

ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʙʟɪɴᴋ, ᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ’ʟʟ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ᴍᴇ - Chapter 2

𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 ��𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓁𝒶𝒹𝓎𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒

Hahahahha this is so late. Hope y’all still love me <3

What you’re going to get from this: Cassian wanting to impregnate Nesta.

Cassian woke up to 5 texts all from Jonah.

Is my sister ok?

How is she feeling?

Does she feel weird?

Goddammit Cassian answer!!

Ask her!!

Ok at least give me her new number?!

 Odd, Jonah didn’t seem this worried when he texted her last night. He rolled his eyes and texted her back.

 Calm down, she’s not even up yet I’ll go check on her now.

 He got up and went to Nes-his room. He knocked on her door.

“Nesta?”

“Wh-at?” She murmured groggily. He chuckled.

“I’ll get started on breakfast, come down.”

“Hm.”

He got out his phone as he climbed down the stairs,

 She’s alive, we’re having breakfast now.

 Jonah replied back with

ok take care of her. Tell her to call me, don’t let her drink in the morning.

Cassian sent a thumbs up back to him.

 He started on breakfast and by the time he was finished Nesta had come downstairs and was sitting at the table. His breath hitched as he looked at her. What she was wearing.

He shook his head in disbelief, as he sat down on the table placing Nesta’s pancakes in front of her he said,

“Jonah has been texting me like crazy, he wants your new number and you might as well give it to him. His inner brotherly instincts have been turned on.” He glanced up at her, “Any reason why?”

Nesta sighed putting down her coffee cup,

“I have 96 hours to live.”

“What?!”

“Probably why Jonah is getting worried.”

“What are we gonna do?”

“My mother wouldn’t send you if she didn’t have a plan.”

“What were you gonna do?”

“A friend of mine, Thesan, he is a doctor. Well a bit more than that.”

He looked at her and picked up his newspaper. She decided she wanted to ditch her clothes and instead of getting her own she took his shirt and worn her knee high black boots. Apparently she needed to take a shower anyway so instead of dirtying her clothes why not his. He on the other hand was shirtless which seemed to have no effect on her while walking around in his clothes definitely had an effect on him. She studied him.

“What?”

“I’m trying to figure out what would happen if you’re ex walked in and saw us like this.”

“My-wh-who are you talking about?!”

“Morrigan.”

“She’s not my ex.”

“The one night stand you’re still hung up over then.” She laughed,

“You’d try to hide me. Wouldn’t you?”

He grabbed her wrist pulling her closer, “No sweetheart I actually wouldn’t.”

“Well then what would you do.”

“You wouldn’t even be able to get out of bed for starters.”

“Yeah whatever.” She left to change.

Cassian grabbed her hand, “Give your brother a call.”

“Will do.” She said mock saluting.

As if Cassian had summoned him Jonah had called.

“Hey Jo-“

“Mom wants Nesta out of that safe house now, you have people tailing you. You need to get out, plane tickets are being sent to you now.”

“Got it.”

 Cassian nods at Nesta who heard the whole conversation. He gave a pointed look at his shirt.

She rolled her eyes, “You can have it back after I’ve changed.”

He choked, “You’re not wearing anything underneath that?”

She smirked at him, not offering any explanation.

 -------

Cassian was contemplating telling Nesta that Feyre was the one who came to him with the plea to save Nesta, but… no he couldn’t or Nesta would run away. And he couldn’t let her but this time it was for her own good. He turned his head towards the stairs to shout at her to get the heck downstairs until he got a text-no an alarm going off. Someone was outside.

Cassian pulled up the cameras, at first sight there was nothing, just a squirrel going up the tree… 3 times. On the exact fucking tree.

It was a fucking loop. Cassian groaned, honestly.

He ran up the stairs where he bumped into an absolutely stunning Nesta, but he couldn’t think about that now. He grabbed her arms and pushed her toward the library.

“Cassian, what the hell-“

“Hybern’s people are outside.”

“Wait what?!”

“They found us, god knows how.”

“Ok why are we going into the library?”

“Because there’s a secret passage in the library that leads through to the Cliffside over there.”

“Where do we go from there we’ll decide on the way.”

“OH WAIT! I need to get my duffel bag.”

He sighed, “Women.”

As Nesta sprinted in those high heeled boots and back.

They went into the library and he waved his hand over the side of a shelf. It gave way and moved allowing a passage way be shown.

They sprinted down, Nesta gaping at where they were. He had led them to what looked like a highway.

A black Ferrari rolled up to them and Cassian watched as Nesta’s eyes widened and as a familiar muscled figure got out.

 Nesta ran to her baby brother and Cassian revelled, as they embraced, how similar they looked even though he was her half-brother. As they let go, she looked up at him,

“Are you mad? That I left?”

As Cassian knew Jonah and Nesta were still in contact until a few weeks ago when she got more dangerous and pushed Jonah away, his rage was a sight to behold, he didn’t scream or shout but instead he went quiet and utterly still, his fiancé Caroline had kept in touch though and when Jonah found out… But Jonah would never be mad at Nesta, even if she betrayed or killed him, he wouldn’t be mad at her. Ok maybe he was exaggerating on the last bit because he knew that Nesta would disintegrate herself before she was responsible of even giving Jonah a paper cut.

Jonah smiled softly, “Never.”

Cassian gave himself an ‘I told you so’ look.

Jonah looked back at Cassian giving him an icy look, saying

“We should leave.” He looked at Nesta, eyes softening, “But you need to get rest, Caro’s been studying ‘The Cauldron’ and seeing as it can be classed as a highly dangerous virus. Thank god it’s not contagious, but you still need to get in the back and try to preserve your energy.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, “Fine.”

Cassian got in the passenger seat and smiled as Jonah fussed over her.

  They rode in silence and only when Nesta was deeply sleeping did Jonah speak,

“What is your issue with my sister? What do you want with her?”

Cassian looked up from his phone where he was reading the briefings from his well… team leaders..?

“Excuse me?”

“It just strikes me as odd that you agreed so quickly when Mom asked you.”

So even Jonah didn’t know that Feyre was the one who asked him.

“What is your issue with me Jonah?”

“My issue is that I don’t know what’s happening between you two… one second you hate her then the next your trying to impregnate my sister!!”

Cassian was utterly gobsmacked. He physically couldn’t bring himself to-

“Wait, wait, wait you think I’M going to-“

But don’t you want to? Cassian tried to hush himself, You want to have kids with her. You love her don’t you? Jonah’s right isn’t he?

Jonah was gaping at him.

“I was right! You are trying to-“

Nesta groaned in her sleep, and Cassian imagined that moan in a different position with him on top of her, his mount on her bre-

“Get that look off your face that’s my fucking sister.” Jonah hissed.

Cassian dragged his hands over his face, “Jonah its not what it-“

But Jonah was ranting to himself, “And what pisses me off the most is that it’s not one sided, Nesta actually sees something in-“

Cassian flinched, “Wait. It’s not one sided?”

Now it was Jonah’s turn to look gobsmacked, “The fuck? You really didn’t know?”

Cassian inwardly grinned, changing his mind on where he was taking this conversation. He had to face Jonah one day, why not now?

“Listen Jonah, if Nesta wants to have sex with me she will, if Nesta wants to have kids with me she will, you know why? Because she’s a strong and independent woman and if she wants to me to pin her down then hell if I stop her.”

Jonah gaped at him, and Cassian knew if Nesta wasn’t in the car Jonah would purposely drive this car into another one and kill both of them. Pure rage contorted his features and he braked so hard that Nesta jolted awake.

“What-what are we-we there? What…” She looked at Cassian’s smug face and Jonah’s enraged one,

“Were you two fighting again?” She sighed.

They both seemed to realize that Nesta was awake and turned,

“We were arguing about…football,” Jonah provided, Cassian raised a brow as Nesta dropped back down and said,

“Boys.”

 “She has enough on her plate as it is, she doesn’t need us fighting on top of it.” Jonah whispered.

Cassian nodded and as Jonah started the car he said,

“I respect you Jonah, for caring for her so deeply.”

Jonah didn’t respond but he swore he saw a ghost of a smile on his lips.

They only drove for another 10 minutes before they stopped again and both got out.

“Mrs Archeron,” Cassian nodded at her as she sat in a prison chair eyes red as if she’d been crying. He moved his hand so Jonah could also see the phone screen.

She looked up, “Cassian I request you to take Nesta into Illyrian territory, effective immediately, Jonah you will drop them off and leave, there is something that needs to be done. Can that be done?”

He nodded but Jonah protested, “Mom but-“

Adelaide only looked at Cassian, “Cassian Nesta is now yours. Do what you need.”

The call ended.

Jonah raised stormy eyes at him, “Illyrian territory is lethal! You can’t take her there if someone-“ he dragged a hand through his hair, “They are a one of the most lethal gangs I have ever come across.”

Cassian said quietly, “It’s my territory. And if anyone if even breathes in a wrong way next to her, I will rip them apart with my own hands.”

 Realization dawned on Jonah, and he suddenly felt half his size,

“You’re…you-you’re HIM.”

 Cassian smirked, “shall we?”

 As they got into the car, Jonah said,

 “I respect you too Cassian, for never letting her fire die out, for being the only one who dared get past her walls.”

 Coming up next:

 Cassian slammed her into a chair,

“Sit the fuck down.”

She breathed raggedly standing up, despite his orders,

“You may be…him, but you don’t order me.”

She didn’t know who moved first but suddenly his mouth was lashing against hers, reminding her of a symphony of steel, she groaned into his mouth, as her hand slid against his thigh.

The second she took the knife out of the strap on his thigh he turned her around and slammed her against a pillar.

He pushed into her back and she could feel his arousal against her ass. He pried the knife away from her,

“Do you want to hurt me Nesta? Hmm?”

The knife clanged to the floor.

He took her hair, bunching it in a fist and moving it away from her ear.

His breath tickled her ear, “Don’t try me Nesta. I’m not known to be gentle and you’re on the verge of snapping my patience.”

Someone came behind them, “Sir you’re needed.”

He stepped away from her, reluctantly letting go of her hair and motioning to a man near him “take her to my room and make sure she does not escape.”

Tags:@skychild29 @aesthetics-11 @perseusannabeth​  @wannawriteyouabook

[straykidsscribbles]

Little Red Robbing Hood

Summary: Best thief in your generation. Heiress to a powerful mafia family. And kind of, on and off best friend to one Seo Changbin, who knows you way too well.

Fairytale AU, based on Little Red Riding Hood; Mafia Au; Female reader; Fluff with the lightest hint of angst 

Genre: Seo Changbin x reader 

Word Count: 11,878 words

Warnings: Violence, profanity, and a bit of blood. 

Happy very belated birthday to her majesty Queen Ruby @changbeanie, I adore you to the stars and back again.

“The line’s secure. You’re free to jump, Red.” 

A small smirk crept over your lips as you took a few quick steps away from the edge of the open window. This would be the easiest heist you’d ever pulled. Pride always goes before a fall. If they wanted to keep such a pretty, pretty painting, they should have guarded it better. 

“Thought you’d never give me the all clear Black.” 

“Oh, you know me, triple checking the wire that’s holding up your whole weight. Your grandmother would murder me if I let you die Red.” 

“She has faith in my skills. You’re just the worry wart.” 

A deep breath. 

In. 

Out. 

You took off, legs pumping until you hit the edge of the window and soared out into the air, nothing between you and the ground.

Nothing that is, except for the wire attached to the climbing harness you wore. 

The wire jerked as it took your weight and stabilized, over five hundred feet in the air. You swung around and grabbed hold of it with your right hand. Tapping the goggles protecting your eyes, you scanned the wall in front of you. 

The goggles immediately flashed, and a number popped up in the corner. 

43. Perfect. 

“Black, I’m good to go. You can get the engine running for me.” 

“Copy Red. Driver’s seat for you?” 

“Well, you do have good taste in wheels. Why not? Now shut up and let me concentrate.” A plate of inch thick glass stood between you and the security system protecting your target. It was the first obstacle in your route to the final piece of Van Gogh’s Wheat Field with Cypresses left in private collections. 

The other two would be easy to steal; museum security was nothing to a professional thief. This one required a little more finesse, which is why you were tasked with the job. 

“I didn’t know master thieves needed to concentrate. You were born into the mafia; weren’t you stealing your dad’s gold cufflinks off his suits for fun at four?” 

Who had even told him that story? You gritted your teeth as a gust of wind buffeted you. This was not the time for distractions; the glass cutter in your hand was sharp enough to cut off a finger if you weren’t careful, and you weren’t in the mood to be bleeding all over whichever fancy car your partner picked out for you. 

“If I lose a finger because of you I will make you pamper me for my entire convalescence,” you hissed, the sensitive microphone on your earpiece catching your words over the rushing of the wind. He really just does not know when to shut up does he? 

Your partner simply hummed in response, clearly abiding by your request for silence. You bit your lip as the glass cutter made its way back around and completed cutting out a circle from the window. 

Slipping the glass cutter into a pocket on your belt, you pushed off from either side of the little circle. Your body swung out into the air, suspended only by the wire disappearing into the open window a few floors above. Like a pendulum you swung back, legs out and braced to hit the glass. 

A surprisingly soft tinkle of glass shards filled your ears as you fell into the room. Taking a few steps forward to maintain your balance, you pivoted in the center of the room. No one in here with me, both sides clear. Looks like our intel was right. 

“I’m in. Give me three minutes to make the switch and drop it down to you.” 

“Yes Red.” 

You padded over to the wall looming at your right, dim lighting making the painting hanging on it glow softly. “You are one elusive little picture aren’t you.” You whispered as you unclipped the large frame that hung from your hip. 

Small metal discs imbedded in the wall where the bottom two corners of the painting were resting acted as pressure sensors. Once the painting was removed, you’d only have five seconds to press the other one in place at exactly the same pressure. Even the slightest millipascal of extra pressure and alarms would fill the entire building. 

Still, you were the best thief in your generation for a reason. Some of it was genetics and family talent, yes, but the rest of it? Pure skill and practice.

Light fingers swept over the beautiful canvas, tracing the edge of the frame as you took one quick breath. Then, in the space of a heartbeat you pushed the edge of the Van Gogh away from the wall and onto the ground, cushioning its fall with your left toe. With your right hand you slipped the replacement frame, carefully measured to be the exact same weight and size, into place. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. 

Your heartbeat was racing in your ears, but you still heard the slight click of the pressure plates locking back into place, as though absolutely nothing had happened. 

A slow smirk spread over your lips, one sharp canine digging into your lip as you bent down to pick up the painting and slide it into a carrying case. You’d be gone before they even realized anything was missing. 

You sauntered back over to the open window, shoes making only the slightest crunch as you stepped on the shattered remains of the windowpane. Reclipping the harness, you tapped a button on the winch and let it yank you upwards. 

This is the best feeling in the world. The thought came to your mind unbidden, but the more you considered it the more you realized it was true. The wind rushing through your hair, the exhilaration of a successful mission, the adrenaline of an escape waiting for you–this was the life you were meant for. 

“Black, target acquired. My car better be ready.” 

“I knew you’d get it. And please Red, when have I ever let you down. Your car is waiting downstairs, the valet has the key. And I’m up on the roof to get rid of anyone who might try to follow you.” 

You slipped into the open window of your own suite and began untangling yourself from the harness, pushing everything back into a small black suitcase. “Thanks Black.” 

“Only the best for you Red. Can’t wait for our next date.” 

“Me neither. Always a pleasure working with you. Red out.”

You pulled out the earpiece and squished it between two fingers before burying it inside a tiny house plant resting on the desk. The tech would degrade and disappear within a few hours, leaving no trace of your whereabouts, and nothing the police could gain any evidence from. 

Suitcase in one hand, painting in the other, you swept out of the suite and down to the bottom floor, where the car your partner had promised you was waiting. The sleek black Audi shone in the light from the lobby’s chandelier and you suppressed a little sigh. 

He really does have good taste in cars. 

Taking the keys from the valet, you slipped into the driver’s seat and sped off towards the airport. 

Mission accomplished. 

---

Four hours later, the unfortunate owner of Wheat Field with Cypresses reentered his suite only to find glass on the floor and an entirely different painting sitting in the middle of the wall. 

Four stark red letters on a plain black background stood out as the man stared in horror. 

L R R H

Little Red Robbing Hood. 

He’d been robbed. 

---

“Mother, it’s too early for this!” you grumbled as you picked up the phone lying next to your bed. “I just gave you the painting yesterday!”  

“Yes, well, this can’t wait. I have another assignment for you.”

You sat up and rubbed your eyes tiredly. The planning for the painting heist had taken ages, and you were completely ready to just sleep for the whole day. 

Unfortunately, your mother had other ideas. 

“Lately, NCT has been gathering far too much power. They’ve set up different accounts all over the world to split up their finances and make sure that no matter what happens they have something to fall back on.” 

“What does that matter to us? We’re way stronger than they are.” 

“____, what have I always told you? Overconfidence is why so many mafia families fall. We know better than that–it’s why we’re so powerful years after our contemporaries died off.” 

Your family had started their network almost three hundred years ago, and every other mafia family from that time had slowly lost their power or been absorbed into a new family that rose up and took them over. Yours had survived because of their adaptability and attention to minutiae–no detail was unimportant enough to overlook. 

When most of the other mafia families had been patriarchal, yours had become matriarchal when your great-grandfather only had a daughter. Rather than bringing someone in from outside, he trained his daughter to keep the traditions of the family alive. 

Others had scoffed, saying there was no way a woman could handle the day to day running of the mess of madness, backstabbing, and treachery that was the underground crime network. But your grandmother had thrived in it, and your mother after her. 

And now here you were, best thief of your generation and heir apparent. 

Adaptability and meticulousness. That was what kept your family alive and in power. 

That and a few carefully placed assassinations, take overs, and thefts when necessary. All for the greater good of course. 

“Alright fine Mother, what do you need me to do?” 

“Well, after your little painting heist this should be easy enough for you. There’s going to be a tradeoff with information regarding the accounts and plans of NCT in Singapore. I want you to be there for that tradeoff.” 

“And I take the information, which I’m assuming is on some sort of flash drive?” 

“Yes. If you somehow manage to cause a little dissent within their ranks and make it seem like they betrayed each other, well, so much the better. From Singapore, you have a flight straight to Rome, and then from Rome to London where you will deliver the information to your grandmother. She’s expecting you in five days.” 

“When is the tradeoff?” 

“At nine pm, near the Elgin Bridge. You’ll see them.” 

“Alright Mother. I’ll check in once I have the drive.” 

---

The flight to Singapore had been short, and the use of your family’s private jet certainly had made things easier. You were completely prepped and ready to go; touristy outfit to blend with the crowd, tiny stun gun hidden in your pocket, and a set of earrings that could be pinched together to act as a miniature explosive. 

Gadgets were a bit of a weakness for you. But they had saved your life on numerous occasions, so could you really be blamed? 

You scanned the crowd, looking around for anyone who might seem out of place. No one yet, maybe I’m early. 

You dug through your bag, pulling out a large camera with a zoom lens; naturally, it would look as though you were just taking pictures when in fact you were watching the area under the bridge for suspicious activity. 

Ten minutes passed without anything happening, and you were beginning to feel a little nervous. Had your mother’s intel been wrong? Had someone set you up? The rushed timing had ensured you came without backup; what if this was an ambush?

And then, you saw two men standing at the edge of the bridge, hands held protectively over their waists where presumably they had guns hidden away. 

You rolled your eyes. This is almost too easy. 

One of the men began walking towards the middle of the bridge, where a third man in a black suit stood, a briefcase leaning against the railing of the bridge. You watched carefully through the zoom lens as the third man shook hands with the first, slipping him the small flash drive. 

Target acquired. Now for a little pickpocketing. 

The first man walked back towards his companion, slipping the flash drive into a pocket without pausing. You put away your camera and began walking towards them as well, hands swinging carelessly as though you were simply enjoying the fresh air and light breeze after a humid day of sightseeing. 

Three. 

Two.

One. 

You brushed against your target, slipping your fingers gently into his pocket and slowly withdrawing them, the flash drive tucked into the palm of your hand. You kept walking naturally, hands swinging still, before you passed through a crowd of tourists which blocked you from view. 

Time to disappear. You slipped the tiny yet extremely valuable piece of metal into a side pocket and twisted your jacket inside out so that the red lining was now on the outside. If anyone was looking for a thief in a black and white jacket, they’d never think it was you. 

However, you didn’t see the third man watching from his side of the bridge. The flash of red from your jacket caught his eye and he stared as you made your way over to the nearest bus stop and clambered onto the first bus that passed. 

He couldn’t be sure, but there was something very familiar about you. 

Familiar, and suspicious. 

---

“Hi mom, I picked up a nice new silver mirror for you! I’m on my way to the airport now actually, so I should be on the flight home really soon.” You started speaking before your mother could, making sure that it was obvious you were out in public. 

“Alright ____, thank you. What time is your flight leaving again?” Or rather, do you know what flight you’re taking?

“No, actually, can you check? I think the flight number is CP753.” 

“Oh, you’re leaving at 9:43. If you need anything just call me okay?” 

“I will Mother. See you soon!” You tapped your phone and ended the call. Your mother had set up a flight whose number ended in 943. The time of departure would be easy enough to find out when you arrived at the airport. All you had to do was pick up your things from the airport storage you’d left your suitcase in. 

The familiar routine of heading to the airport, getting your things, and finding your flight on the large tv screens mounted on the wall slowly lulled you into a false sense of security. Everything appeared to be completely normal. The crowded airport was no more empty than usual; there were at least two families and three business executives headed towards the same terminal as you–you couldn’t see anything wrong.

But you couldn’t ignore the chill heading up your spine as you waited for your sandwich at one of the airport bistros. Something inside you, some sixth sense, some weird feeling made you feel like there was someone watching you. 

A malevolent presence, hovering at the edge of your awareness. 

Maybe we shouldn’t have rushed, even if it was important. Maybe we should have waited for a better opportunity, or better backup. 

Paying for your sandwich you grabbed the handle of your suitcase and pulled it after you, continuing the trek to your gate. 

There was no point in worrying now. If someone was following you, they knew where you were headed by now. The only thing you could do was wait and try and lose them in Rome. 

I hope I’m wrong. 

---

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re going through a little bit of turbulence here. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.” The voice of one of the air hostesses rang out over the speakers. 

You wiped your hands with a paper towel and pushed open the door to the tiny bathroom, making your way slowly down the narrow aisle back to your seat. A loud popping noise broke the silence as the little seatbelt light came on, and it woke up a small baby in the middle row. 

Great. Now I have to deal with a noisy crying baby on top of everything. 

As you brushed past a seat, the man sitting there looked up and his eyes met yours.

A shiver ran up your spine. The look in his eyes was malevolent, cruel, utterly heartless. The man had dead eyes, and the little smile curling the edge of his lips could only mean trouble for you.

Why else would someone like that show up on your flight? A million thoughts racing through your mind, you settled back into your seat and pulled the blanket they’d given you closer to you. 

35,000 feet in the air, what else could you do besides wait. Wait and wait and wait and wait for something to happen. 

Behind you, the baby hiccupped and sobbed loudly. Nausea rose in your throat as the plane rolled, sending your stomach through a whirlwind. 

And now I’m ready to throw up. Wonderful. How the fuck do I live with this? You rubbed the inside of your wrist, trying to force the awful feeling to recede. 

Only partially successful, you settled further into your seat. Right now, you just wanted to get off this plane before someone stuck a knife between your ribs. 

---

The second you stepped off the plane in Rome you knew your earlier feeling had been right. There was someone following you, and it was the terrifying man who’s smile had so unnerved you earlier. 

Oh crap why did this have to happen to me? What do I do how the fuck do I get out of this I have no back up and literally no supplies except for what’s on me. ____, good luck getting out of this you’re in really deep trouble this time. 

You saw a small sign for a restroom up ahead and you immediately took a deep breath and ducked inside. Fingers slightly shaky after the long flight, you pulled out your phone and immediately dialed your mother’s number. 

Four rings later, she picked up, voice clipped with irritation. “Yes ____, what’s wrong? I’m extremely busy right now, things have gotten crazy all over east Asia.” 

“Some of that might be my fault. Because I didn’t have backup or more time to prepare, I wasn’t able to make sure things were secure. 

The silence on the phone was deafening. You cringed a little as you waited for your mother’s response. While you were one of the most dangerous individuals in the criminal underworld, your mother was still more dangerous, and you hated disappointing her. 

“Well. This can’t be helped. Are you in Rome now ____?”

“Yes.” You tapped your foot on the tiled floor, waiting for her response. 

“Alright, one of our best wolves is in Athens right now. He’ll meet you at the Trevi Fountain tonight. You need to make sure you are staying in public spaces and being as unobtrusive as possible. Join a tour group and stay with them, blend in with the thousands of other tourists and appear as normal as you can.” 

“Don’t worry Mother, I’m not hopeless.” Already you felt a little better now that you knew you had backup coming and no one blamed you for your little mistake. The weight on your shoulders felt a great deal lighter, less overwhelming now that you had a plan. 

“I know you aren’t. But a mother worries no matter how capable and smart her daughter is.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. Your mother cared about you, yes, but the mafia life wasn’t really the best place for touchy-feely displays of affection. Things must be really bad; that’s why she’s being so uncharacteristically soft. 

“You’ll recognize the wolf on sight, you worked with him on your last mission. He is the only one you can trust at this point alright?” 

Wolves were the secondary leaders in the mafia, right underneath the hereditary leaders like you and your family. They were given the title of wolf once they had proven themselves as loyal protectors and skilled fighters, much like actual wolves. They led in every situation not important enough to require the attention of one of the family, and they were the ones responsible for making sure your family was always safe. 

They were the most loyal operatives, their clan ties to yours stretching back to when your family was first making a name for themselves. 

And this particular wolf was the person you trusted most outside of your immediate family. Having him as a partner again would make everything easier, and you wouldn’t even have to worry about dealing with an unknown player. 

He’s trustworthy and… safe. Always safe. 

“Yes Mother. It’ll be nice to see Black again.” 

“At this point, no codenames as well. Use your real names; someone might have overheard your codenames and your real names are safer. You’re simply ____ to him, and he’s Changbin to you.”

Well. This would be interesting. No more Red jokes. He’s been calling me that for years, it’ll be weird not to hear it. 

“Understood. I’ll check in once we meet.” 

“Only by text ____. You cannot afford to call me again, even now you don’t know who could be listening. Changbin will have access to some supplies for you to restock, and you will have to make your own way to your grandmother, is that understood?”

“Yes Mother. As you wish.” 

“Good luck ____. Stay safe.” 

The phone clicked off before you had a chance to say anything else. 

You shoved the phone inside your bag. As things stood now, you couldn’t afford to get rid of it; you didn’t have the resources to replace it, even if it was a security risk. 

Placing your palms on the cool stone sink you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Dark circles rimmed your eyes, the result of the long sleepless flight and the constant fear that someone was watching you. Even now, inside the bathroom, your shoulders were tense with anxiety. 

What if I don’t last until Black– Changbin– comes? You had to remind yourself that your old color codenames were not to be used. Years ago, you’d decided on those nicknames as a group with a few of your fellow younger agents, each of you picking a color for a heist in Switzerland. The names had stuck long after that mission, and not using them would definitely take a little effort. 

Still, you liked the sound of Changbin’s real name. Using it felt somewhat more intimate than using his codename; many of your friends knew his codename but only those closest to him knew his real name. 

“Come on ____, you got this. You’re the best thief of your generation you can damn well make it to a rendezvous.” Splashing some cold water on your face, you tightened your hands into fists. 

Someone might be after you, but if they expected to get you easily, they were just about to be proven grievously wrong. 

---

Soft sounds of someone strumming a guitar filled the night air as you sat on the cool marble of the Trevi Fountain. Despite your fears the day had passed relatively painlessly; the bus ride into the city and ambling around the cobblestone streets soaking up the history behind a tour group had been almost fun, if you let yourself forget about the reason you were there. 

Unfortunately, the malevolent presence you’d sensed in Singapore was still hovering somewhere nearby, even if you couldn’t see anyone tailing you. 

Where is Changbin and why isn’t he here yet? Is he planning on having me die all dramatically in his arms? 

No, Mama would never forgive him, and he idolizes her too much to do that. Honestly, sometimes it’s like she’s his grandmother, not mine. 

You shook the errant thoughts out of your head, choosing instead to focus on scanning the crowd for Changbin. The sun had set almost an hour previously and the fountain was glowing with lights from within, highlighting both the carved marble and the people admiring it. 

Where was he even? 

The pasta you’d had for lunch seemed like a meal from years ago. You’d been waiting long enough; you needed food at this point. You dug through your bag, searching for the savory pastry you’d bought earlier for a snack. The little packet of dough, herbs, and vegetables was bright on your tongue, giving you a little energy and brightening your mood. 

But the fear that he’d been discovered too, and people were lying in wait to capture you and take the pretty silver drive tucked in your inner pocket kept you from enjoying your food. 

If NCT didn’t capture and kill you, the anxiety would instead. 

---

Changbin stared out from the shadow of a building, cap pulled low over his eyes. His gaze skimmed the crowd, looking for your familiar figure. 

He’d been hiding for a while, having already taken out one of the operatives tailing you. He had spotted you earlier as you were eating, illuminated by the glow of the fountain that seemed to light you up with a glow that made Changbin’s heart stutter a little when he looked at you. 

His eyes, while drawn to you like magnets, still noticed the dark figure in all black that was watching you from the gelato shop opposite. 

Changbin’s wolf training kicked in almost immediately. Someone was threatening one of his teammates, his friends– he wasn’t about to let the man anywhere near you. 

He crept up behind the man and tapped his shoulder to get his attention, smiling benignly before yanking him backwards into an alley and taking him out with two quick punches to the temple and jaw. Surveillance now taken care of; he could focus on making sure the area was secure before approaching you. 

And now, after another half an hour of searching, Changbin was certain no one else was watching you aside from him. He pushed up his cap and let a smirk play across his lips. 

Sure will be nice seeing _____ again. She always looks cute when she’s startled. 

He sauntered up to you from behind, hands jammed into his pockets and headphones swinging around his neck. 

“Hey Princess, made a wish yet?” 

A tiny gasp escaped you as you whirled around and almost fell against Changbin. His arms came up almost reflexively and held you tightly against him, making sure you weren’t about to fall over into the fountain. 

“Fucking finally Bin, you took forever. I thought you were going to stand me up.” Your words were carefree and blasé, but Changbin heard the faint quiver in your voice. 

The hours of stress, of waiting for someone to come, of fear that in the next second a bullet would somehow end up in your skull, of one of the most turbulent flights you’d experienced in a while all swept over you as you stood there tucked against Changbin. His arms cradled you gently, spreading warmth throughout your body, swaying with you as he hugged you like you were the most important person in the entire universe.

“As if I’d ever stand you up. Now come on, we’re staying pretty nearby.” He lowered his head slightly so that his lips were just brushing your ear. “The man who was watching you earlier will have a pretty bad headache when he wakes up, not to mention that he’ll be getting severely punished for losing you.”

Already a grin crept across your face as you reached down to grab your suitcase, still holding Changbin’s arm with your other hand. “Thanks Bin.” 

“Always ____. Always.” 

---

The walk back to the little apartment was quiet; exhaustion poured over you in waves as you tried to stay upright. Changbin clutched your suitcase in one hand, the other clasped around yours to give you some sort of support as you made your way between the brightly colored houses. 

He stopped soon after in front of a door with an ornate bronze knocker. Digging through his pocket, Changbin pulled out a small key and slipped it into the lock, pushing the door open. 

“We’re on the top floor, with roof access in case we need to get out in a hurry. We shouldn’t need to though, this safehouse was set up by my dad.” 

Grumbling under your breath, you climbed up the two narrow flights of stairs that led up to the loft apartment. Changbin pressed his thumb against the doorknob and waited for the fingerprint recognition to work. He then tapped in a quick code on the keypad revealed in a panel in the door and it finally swung open. 

“There’s a shower in there, and I brought some stuff for you if you need clothes to change into.” Changbin went over to another suitcase waiting inside the little apartment and pulled out a plain black t-shirt and gray sweats. 

Taking the proffered clothes, you slipped inside the bathroom. The heat and pounding of the hot water washed away some of the tension still coiled inside your muscles, leaving you limp with exhaustion. You let the water wash over you, losing all sense of time, enjoying the relief of focusing on one sensation without having to worry about who might come after you while your guard was down. 

Changbin was outside, and you trusted him to keep you safe. 

Finally, you turned off the water; sleeping in an actual bed would probably result in a lower risk of drowning that falling asleep in the shower, which you were certainly close to. Drying off quickly, you threw on the clothes Changbin had given you and tumbled out into the main room of the little studio apartment. 

“You look slightly more human.” One corner of Changbin’s lips quirked up as he looked up from the gun in his hand. A small bottle of liquid sat on the table next to him, and a stack of cotton scraps which he was using to clean and oil the metal. 

The smell was familiar in a way; Changbin always cleaned off his twin pistols before he slept, and you’d spent enough time with him to know his routine almost as well as your own. 

“I feel a hell of a lot more human. So, how are we getting to London?” You set down on the bed and leaned back against the pillows behind you, taking a deep breath as you sank into the plush warmth. 

Changbin tucked one gun next to his shoes and put the other on the nightstand on the other side of the bed. He sat down, the bed sinking slightly on his side as he turned to look at you. 

“Well, air travel is going to be a lot harder to manage because it’s a lot more regulated, and even if we call the jet, we’ll still have to file a flight plan. Boat would work but it would also take a long time, so we’ll go by train. We shouldn’t have any reason to get our passports checked as long as we’re within the EU, and then once we get to Calais, we can easily just take a boat over to England. It’ll be a lot more subtle, and we should be able to make it within the deadline.”

“Train? Really? Will it be fast enough?” 

“_____, Europe is tiny. If we take a train tomorrow morning, we’ll be in Paris by evening. From there it’s easy enough to get to Calais.” 

“If you’ve put so much thought into this, then how are we supposed to make sure no one follows us onto the train.” You crossed your arms over your chest, frowning thoughtfully. 

“It’s a risk we’ll have to take. The only thing is, there’ll be less regulation and so hopefully if things go sour, we’ll have an easier time escaping. That and, if we’re on a train we can get off in the middle, and that’s a hell of a lot easier than jumping out of a plane.” 

You nodded slowly, considering his plan. He did have a very good point; it would be easier to escape off a train. 

What choice do we have? At least this way we have a chance. 

“Fine. You’re right. Now come on, if we have to take a train I’m assuming we’ll have to be out of here early in the morning.” 

“Departure’s around 5 am Princess. You can finish up your beauty sleep on the train, I’ll even let you use my shoulder as a pillow.” He pulled one of the armchairs next to the bed and settled into it, eyes already beginning to close. 

“Good night.” 

You let the soft sound of Changbin’s steady breathing lull you to sleep.

---

Dark woods all around you.

Shadowy trees looming every direction you turned.

One path forward.

A break in the tree line, only to reveal clouds obscuring part of the glowing yellow full moon. 

A howl cutting through the air, making the back of your neck prickle with fear. 

A flash of mangy brown, and claws swiping through the red cloak you had wrapped around you. 

The basket in your hand falling, falling, falling.

Red splattering through the air.

Blood red. 

Painpainpainpainpain

Menacing shadows all around you.

Black warmth enveloping you, calling out your name.

“_____! _____! Wake up for fuck’s sake! _____!” Changbin’s voice broke through the dense fog of the nightmare that had captured every one of your senses. Heart racing, you opened your eyes only to make out his face close to yours, close enough for you to see the fear in his eyes. His hands clutched your arms, shaking you to try and rouse you from whatever horror you were seeing. 

The moonlight streaming through the window calmed you as your eyes adjusted and you realized where you were. Changbin was sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard and holding you tightly against his chest. You could feel the steady beat of his heart under your ear, a little fast but still helping ground you. 

Breathing fast, you simply lay there for a moment. His arms wrapped around you, his cheek resting against the crown of your head.

Every time you closed your eyes you could still feel the sharp claws of the monster that had attacked you. 

Slowly, steadily, your breathing began to even out and you settled further into Changbin’s embrace. You slipped your arms around his torso, not ready to let him go just yet. 

“_____?” His voice was softer now, a gentle whisper rather than the sharp order it had been. “What happened Princess?”

“Bad dream.” You mumbled, embarrassed now that you were more awake. You were a professional thief and the heir to a mafia family; you were not supposed to get so freaked out by a nightmare of all things. 

“It must have been pretty bad, if you were screaming like that. Do you want to talk about it?” The gentle rasp of his voice was calming.

You sighed. He wouldn’t let this go without you telling him– Changbin was stubborn like that. “It’s probably because of the whole Little Red Robbing Hood thing people have been calling me lately. I don’t even know, it was weird. I was trapped in this forest and all the trees were like monsters. There was this mangy-looking, kind of flea-bitten brown wolf or dog or something that jumped at me and clawed me, and then a bunch more shadows were surrounding me or something and it was like this explosion of pain, I don’t even know.” 

“So, a wolf attacked you? In a dark forest? ____, that does sound like a fairytale. Maybe you need a break from all this. You’ve been going on so many heists and missions lately, no wonder you’re stressed.” 

“I guess.” You trailed off, not sure if you wanted to finish your tale. That somehow there had been a black wolf that had protected you, made you feel safe and warm and comforted and kept whatever pain you felt at bay. 

Changbin tapped the lamp next to you and a soft yellow glow filled the room. He looked down at you, dark eyes meeting yours unflinchingly, without the slightest hesitation. 

“You know, any monster, real or imaginary, would never be able to come near you if I was there. You have a wolf for protection after all.” 

At any other time, you would have felt shy at his direct statement. You might have laughed at his dramatic, even slightly romantic streak. Who used their ridiculous title as an actual declaration of protection? 

However, the way Changbin’s eyes were drilling into you made that all but impossible. 

If anything ever happened, he means it. He really would protect me with his life. 

Unable to muster up the words to respond to him, you simply nodded and curled your fingers into the fabric of his shirt. The little clock on the nightstand read 2:26 am and you could probably squeeze in another hour and a half of sleep before you had to leave. 

With the solid warmth of Changbin curled around you, you actually did have a chance of getting some proper rest this time. 

---

Changbin sighed as your breathing finally evened out, signaling that you were asleep. He traced a finger over your cheek, drawing a little heart on your skin as you slept. 

“What am I to do with you?” He whispered into the darkness. “You’re going to be the death of me.” 

He sighed softly, the puff of air escaping from his lips pushing a lock of hair away from your face. “I–”

I love you. But he didn’t have the courage to utter his thoughts aloud and make them real. 

The night would keep his secret for him; never telling you how much you meant to him. 

He was just a friend to you. Nothing more. He couldn’t aspire to be more with someone of your prestige and rank and skill. 

And if all he could do was give you a safe space to break down in and protect you to the best of his ability? That’s what he would do. 

You were too important to him; he wouldn’t risk the bond between you for anything. 

---

“Rise and shine Princess, you don’t want to miss the train, do you?” 

“I hate you.”

“Yeah I hate you too and look where we are now. If you don’t get up then we’re going to be stuck here for another twelve hours, and that’s twelve whole hours for NCT to get their shit together and find us.” 

“Are you ready?” You mumbled from underneath one of the pillows 

Changbin rolled his eyes. “For your information, I actually am. Unless you want me to show up at your grandmother’s house without you saying ‘Oh, ____ just wanted to sleep and that’s why I had to leave her behind’ I suggest you get going.” 

You grumbled but pushed yourself up, sitting on the bed. “Did you already pack all of my stuff?” 

“Yes, because I’m the best partner you’ll ever have.” 

“Questionable. Orange did a pretty great job last time.” 

“Jisung is talented but he’s got nothing on me.” Changbin threw a sleazy wink at you and laughed when you threw the pillow next to you at his head. 

You splashed water on your face and huffed at Changbin’s grin in the mirror. “His ego isn’t as ginormous as yours either.” 

“You love me even with my ginormous ego, so I think I win.” 

He meant it as a joke. Changbin always says stupid shit like that, it’s nothing new. 

“Keep telling yourself that Bin.” 

Somehow though, his words kept reverberating through your head. Now that the idea had been planted your head, you couldn’t help wondering. 

Would it be that hard to fall in love with him? 

You weren’t sure if the answer scared or excited you.

---

The train station was crowded despite the early hour; no doubt commuters and locals and jetlagged tourists were taking advantage of the cooler weather. You and Changbin stuck close together, hands brushing as you made your way to the platform. 

As you approached the train, you couldn’t help feeling like there was something watching you, something you could sense and feel but not actually see. 

A malevolent presence. 

You tugged on Changbin’s sleeve to get his attention. “Bin, I think our friends from last night might be somewhere around here.” 

“Fuck.” The curse escaped his lips as he glanced around. “Hopefully they don’t spot us, and the train gets away alright.” 

He reached over and pulled the hood of your yellow hoodie up over your head. Your heart gave a little thump as his fingers brushed the side of your cheek. “Come on, let’s go. We’re leaving in ten minutes anyways.” 

Changbin quickly busied himself with putting your suitcases in the storage rack, while you got your tickets out and kept things ready for the conductor to check. The sooner you left Rome, the better. 

Within a few minutes, you felt the train begin moving under you, the acceleration pushing you against the back of the seat. Changbin reached over and patted your hand, twining your fingers together and squeezing slightly. 

“You okay? We seem to be alright so far.” 

A sigh escaped your lips as you looked out of the window, the grand architecture of the city you’d gotten to spend far too little time in looming in the distance. 

“It’s just… I kind of wanted to have more time here. Maybe see the sights, go on more than just the one short day tour while constantly stressing about someone following me. It feels like I got cheated, you know? I came to Rome, of all places, and I barely got to see any of the history and architecture and art.”

One corner of Changbin’s lips quirked up. “Well, who knew Little Red Robbing Hood had such an interest in art beyond what’s easy to steal?” 

“Hey!” You hit his arm, hard. He didn’t have to tease all the time, did he? And mentioning that name in a public place was dangerous!

“How’s this Princess? If we get out of this alive, and your grandmother doesn’t kill me for displeasing her, I’ll take you to Rome for fun. No work, no missions, no targets. Just you, me, and whatever else you want.” 

You gulped at the look in his eyes. 

Warm. Soft. Heartfelt. A little cheeky. 

Loving?

He’s serious.

A chuckle escaped him as he leaned back against the seat. “Like I said though, that depends on us getting out of this alive. And for that, you’d probably want a bit of a nap. I promised you my shoulder, didn’t I?” 

He patted his right shoulder and you shook yourself out of the reverie that had overcome you. He was just messing around. I’m imagining things. It’s just being with someone who’s sort of cute and hot and knows me well. It’s the proximity is all. He doesn’t actually like me. 

Does he?

You scowled even as you settled into place, head resting against Changbin’s shoulder. He was warm and smelled of pine needles and something else, something you couldn’t place. 

Slowly, your eyes drooped shut and you fell asleep curled up against him, barely noticing the arm he wrapped around you as he pulled you closer to him. 

---

Not even two hours later, you were jolted awake by Changbin shaking your shoulder roughly. “_____, wake up. They found us. We have to move.” 

Your eyes flew open and you stifled a groan as you realized what he was talking about. Behind you, through the glass door connecting the compartments, you could make out two dark suited figures coming towards you. 

One of them looked all too familiar. The man from the plane, who had a bandage on his forehead where Changbin must have knocked him out earlier. He wasn’t smiling now; rather his face was twisted in a snarl. 

All too aware of the flash drive hidden inside your pocket, you reached down and grabbed Changbin’s hand, squeezing it tightly. While you had been asleep the compartment had emptied, and now its only occupants were the two of you. 

And of course, the two men from NCT. 

They approached you slowly, each one making his way down one aisle towards you. You reached into your pocket and pulled out a small knife–a gun’s noise would attract far too much attention.

“Finally caught up with us hmmm? Took you long enough,” you quipped, rolling your eyes. 

“Give us the drive.” 

Changbin smirked at the man coming towards him. “Come and get it, if you can.” 

All at once, the tension in the compartment snapped. The man coming towards you leaped over the last row of seats and bore down on you, stabbing downwards at your hips. You twisted, avoiding the small blade and scoring a long shallow cut along the man’s sleeve, which protected his arm. 

He threw two quick punches at your head and you skipped out of reach, moving around him so that his back was against a window. As you slashed and feinted and blocked his blade, the wheels in your mind turned constantly. 

How do I get rid of this guy?

The red latch on the window caught the edge of your vision, and a little smirk slipped over your lips. Bingo.

You swung out with your left hand, hoping to distract your opponent, and with your right hand you grabbed the red handle and pulled. The window flew open, the glass falling out exactly as expected of an emergency exit. 

Hands flat against the man’s chest you shoved him once, hard, and he toppled out of the window as the idyllic countryside streaked by. 

He was gone in a moment. 

Panting, you turned back to Changbin, expecting to see him standing over the body of his opponent. 

Instead, his opponent had him in a headlock, arm tightening around Changbin’s neck and cutting off his air supply. The man brought his other hand closer and closer to Changbin’s neck, a small knife in his hand. 

He stopped with the cool metal cutting slightly into Changbin’s skin, holding him in place carefully. His eyes though, were fixed on you. 

“Well well well. Little Red Robbing Hood, caught at last.”

“I wouldn’t exactly say ‘caught’, but whatever asshole.”

The man shook his head ruefully. “Tsk tsk. You should be a little more polite. After all, I do have your wolf right here with a knife to his neck. I think I hold all the cards in this situation.” 

The knife in his hand cut into Changbin’s skin a little more, and a thin rivulet of red seeped out of the wound, staining the collar of Changbin’s shirt. Changbin’s eyes were panicked as he met yours, and his lips moved in the same way over and over, as though he was mouthing something to you. 

Leave me ____! Run! Leave me!

“Well, I can’t have you hurting him. So how about you let him go, and then we can talk about this in a more… civilized manner.” Despite your panting, you managed to keep an even tone. 

The man chuckled hollowly. “What’s there to talk about? You have three seconds to pass the drive to me, otherwise I will kill your little mangy runt. Fine job he did protecting you. You should join NCT, perhaps there we can outfit you with talent more suited to you.”

The knife moved closer and closer to the veins in Changbin’s neck, until you simply couldn’t bear it anymore. 

If he got hurt because of you, you’d never forgive yourself. 

“Stop! I’ll give you the drive. Just don’t hurt him.” 

You dug the little metal rectangle out of your pocket and slid it across the floor. The man smiled almost to himself, and then–

Changbin collapse sideways, falling onto a row of seats with a limp thud. The man reached down and grabbed the drive, shoving it into a pocket and immediately slipping out of your compartment.

It galled you that you couldn’t chase after him. 

But as you came level with Changbin’s limp figure on the seats, your heart jumped into your throat. 

The seat was covered in red. 

Blood red. 

Your signature color. 

Quick as a flash you were kneeling beside him, one hand cradling his face even as you tilted it upwards to trace over his neck. The cuts there were shallow, hesitant, only a threat. 

Where’s the blood coming from? 

“_____,” Changbin coughed. “My arm.” 

You unbuttoned the first three buttons of his shirt and slid the soft fabric off his shoulder, only to gasp. The man had stabbed Changbin’s arm and then yanked out the knife at a different angle, leaving blood dripping. 

“Fuck, this is bad.” You ran back to the seat where you’d been only a few minutes previously, digging through your suitcase and pulling out the first aid kit. 

You were not going to lose Changbin. Not to something as dumb as blood loss. Not to anything ever.

“Okay, Bin, I need you to try and sit up, if you can.” You reached around him and grasped his other arm, pulling him upright even as he swung his legs off the seat. “Now hold this against the cuts on your neck, I need to work on your arm first.” 

You quickly swabbed the whole wound with alcohol wipes and began wrapping it with gauze and tape, keeping it as tight as you could around Changbin’s bicep to restrict the blood flow. 

Changbin winced even as you finished up, his eyes soft despite the pain no doubt filling his senses. 

“You shouldn’t have done that _____. I’m not worth that drive, we all know the information on it is incredibly valuable.” 

“Shut up.” 

“I’m serious ______. You can’t tell me my life is worth more than that drive.” 

You tightened your hands, your bloodstained, shaking hands, into fists.

“Seo Changbin how fucking DARE you. Do NOT tell me what your life is worth. You have absolutely no idea how important you are and how much you’re worth to me. So shut the fuck up you idiot.” 

“I—”

“Did you not just hear me tell you to shut up.” Kneeling in front of him, you grasped his chin in one hand, fingers gentle despite the anger still coursing through your veins. You tilted his head up, wiping off the cuts on his neck and placing bandages on each of them as well. 

Changbin winced as you finished, turning back to look at you.

“You know they’ll be long gone with that thing. We need to get it back.” 

“I know we need to get it back. Do you really think I’m that stupid?” 

Changbin chuckled, then immediately raised a hand to his neck as the movement pulled at the tape. “Well, you did just give them the drive.” 

He was infuriating. You were just about to smack his arm when you caught yourself. A pout stole over your lips even as you spoke. “You’re lucky you’re injured; you get a free pass.” You changed the movement to a light brush of your fingers against his skin, tracing the line of his muscles and the edge of the gauze.

The moment hung in the air, tense and yet comfortable at the same time. The banter between you was normal, but the concern for each other that was normally buried under five layers of sarcasm and six of wit was now well out in the open. 

There was no way he could mistake the look in your eyes.

There was no way you could mistake the look in his. 

“Well, I guess I am lucky.” Changbin broke the silence between you. “I mean, I do have a pretty girl basically sitting in my lap, holding my arm, and stroking my neck.” 

You almost choked, scrambling off his lap in an instant. “I was making sure the gauze was in place! And you still have blood on your neck you dumb-dumb. Planning on getting that off yourself?” 

The moment was broken, but you still felt heat suffusing your cheeks. Only Changbin could get you so riled up with such ease. 

“I did say I was lucky, didn’t I? Maybe if I’m luckier you’ll kiss them all better.” 

“I hate you.” 

“Clearly not, you did just save my life and trade an extremely valuable object for my safety.”

“Shut up and put this on.” You dug around in his bag and pulled out a hoodie, throwing it at his head. “You have until we arrive in Paris to start feeling better.” 

“Awwww Princess, you do care. You know what would make me feel better almost instantly?” 

Ignore him. You have work to do.

“A kiss. One right here—” he pointed to his arm like a petulant toddler, complete with pout and all. “—and one here, and one right here.” 

“Your lips aren’t injured Bin.” 

“Damn. Maybe I should have gotten that guy to punch me too.”

“You are so lucky I have to figure out this tracker and I can’t pay attention to you.”

---

Changbin lay back against the pillows in your little hotel room in Paris, finally clean and freshly bandaged after the harrowing train ride into the city. You were still seated at the desk, fingers clacking on the keyboard much as they had been for the past four hours, aside from regular breaks to check on Changbin’s injuries. 

“What are you even working on?” he mumbled sleepily, eyes half closed as he cuddled into the pillows. 

You waved a hand in his direction, trying to get him to shut up before he broke your concentration. A few more clicks and… perfect. 

The laptop hummed as you turned back to Changbin and padded over to the bed, sitting down on a corner. “If you didn’t keep interrupting me, I’d have gotten done a hell of a lot sooner. But anyways, you don’t think I would have given them the drive without some way to get it back.” 

Understanding dawned on Changbin, even in his sleepy, pain medication-induced daze. “You put a tracker on the drive.” 

“Exactly. And, I was also working on this.” You reached into your bag and pulled out a small hard disk. “There’s no guarantee that they won’t have placed a tracker on the drive as well. So, what we do, once we get it back, is move the information on that drive to this one. It’s set up to be automatic. All we have to do is plug the other one in.” 

“Well aren’t you clever?” The dopey smile on Changbin’s face as he looked at you made your stomach do flips.

“People have said that before.” A shy, almost coy smile worked its way across your face in response. You got up from the bed and went over to the chair, pulling it so that it sat next to the bed. 

“You should sleep, we both should really. The computer will finish its search for the tracker in an hour, and we need to be at our best before we try and take on NCT again. 

Changbin patted the pillows next to him. “Come here then. I’m cold.” 

“You have blankets.” 

“Yeah but I—”

“Fine.” You lifted a corner of the blankets and got in next to him. “I guess I owe you after my nightmare.” 

“Thank you.” The soft reply in the dimly lit room made your heart skip a beat. Changbin reached out under the covers and grasped your hand, pulling you closer to him. 

Five minutes later, you were out cold, one hand resting against Changbin’s chest right over his heart, the steady thumping reassuring you that he was alive and safe and here with you. 

---

“How’s your arm?” You asked, searching through the items in your bag for pepper spray and throwing weights. 

Changbin stretched it carefully, moving it in small circles to test its range of motion. “I think we’re good. It’s sore, but I can work with this.” 

“Now remember, I’m doing most of this. The drive is being taken to a music festival in the Latin Quarter. That means they’re probably going to have a handoff there, in the crowd. I’ll be in the mess of people, and I’ll nab the drive and then come to you.” 

“I’ll have the transfer disk waiting, and once we’re done, we simply toss the drive out the window and leave as fast as we can.” 

“Exactly. If we have to run, you make sure they don’t catch you again.” 

“Princess, you do care.” 

“Well of course I care about you idiot!” The words burst out of your mouth. The constant worry about Changbin and his needling had worn you down to the point where you were ready to throw something. “You’re my closest friend. I’d trust you with my life. And I care about you more than you know, so can you please not get hurt again? I don’t think I could handle it.” 

The quaver in your voice was unmistakable. 

Changbin reached over and cupped your cheek, turning your face to look him directly in the eye. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat, if it meant you were safe.” 

Slowly, giving you every chance to back away, Changbin leaned closer and closer and closer until his lips brushed against yours, soft and warm and just the slightest hint of teasing as he traced a heart on your back with his finger. 

You melted into him, one hand curling into his hair and the other holding him against you, solid and steady and unwavering. You weren’t sure why you’d never done this before, why you’d waited so long for something that felt so right. 

Beep beep beep. The computer interrupted you and you fell apart, hands still reaching for each other. 

You leaned your head on his shoulder, arms going around him in a hug. “Be safe. And if you think you can kiss me and then die to get out of doing it again, I’ll drag you back to life myself.” 

“_____? Wake up,” Changbin patted your cheek. Your eyes fluttered open and immediately you felt yourself deflating. 

It had just been a dream. 

He didn’t actually love you. 

He hadn’t kissed you. 

“Yeah. I’m up. We should suit up.” You stumbled out of bed with a groan and padded over to the bathroom, splashing water on your red face. 

“Come on, we should be at the festival before it starts, so we can scope out our getaway.” Changbin tucked his favorite pistol into his ankle holster and slipped a knife into his sleeve. 

He paused as you brushed past him, going to your suitcase. “Are you okay ____? You feel off somehow.”

“I’m fine. I’m more worried about you really, you’re the one who got hurt earlier.” 

“Don’t worry, it’s healed enough that as long as I don’t do anything dumb, we’ll be fine. Thanks for patching me up so well.” 

“It’s fine.” 

“Are you sure you’re—”

“Changbin, we need to go before it’s too late. Come on.” 

The two of you slipped out of the little hotel silently, not a word of conversation between you. Changbin seemed to sense your mood, staying quiet rather than initiating his usual banter. 

But the silence only seemed to cement the fact that, while you might care about Changbin, he’d never said anything about loving you back. 

Even in your dream. 

---

Music filled the air, the crowd moving with energy that easily obscured you and Changbin as you made your way closer and closer to the blinking red dot on the screen. The dot had been stationary for almost five minutes, suggesting that it was about to change hands soon and you wanted to get to it before that happened. 

“I think I see him.” Changbin whispered, the mic in his ear catching his every word. “Look near the stage, left side, three feet away from the big speaker.” 

You followed his directions with your eyes and took in the man standing there in dark wash jeans and a black hoodie. A beanie was pulled low over his head, obscuring some of his face. 

Somehow though, you could tell. He was the same man who had almost cut Changbin’s throat. 

Anger rose up in you, and you fought to keep yourself calm. Losing control would do nothing, and you needed to get to him and pickpocket him without anyone realizing. 

“Okay, I’m going in. Be ready to run.” You wiggled your fingers, ready and waiting for the exchange. Slowly, carefully, you neared the man, head down so that he couldn’t see your face under the cap you wore. 

You brushed up against him, making it appear as though the crowd had shoved you and you had simply stumbled. “Pardon, monsieur,” you muttered, hand slipping into the man’s pocket and out again.

One glance down was all it took to check if you had the drive. 

The little silvery piece of metal in your hand blinked up at you in the brightly colored lights of the festival, and you let yourself take a breath of relief. You had it back. 

“I have the box. Initiating transfer now. Let’s run.” You plugged the drive into the box in your pocket and pushed your way through the crowd, finding Changbin once more. He reached down and grabbed your hand the second you were in reach, tangling your fingers together and pulling you along behind him. 

“Come on Princess, let’s go.” The brisk walk through the crowd became a jog as the throng of people decreased, and before you knew it you were running, running as fast as you could, even as the mechanism in your pocket slowly transferred the files. 

---

Fifty feet away, a man checked inside his pocket, only to pull out a rectangular prism made of simple red glass. 

Gold letters spelled out LRRH on top. 

You weren’t about to let him think just anyone had pickpocketed him. A thief of your caliber deserved recognition. 

The man snarled in anger, pulling out his phone and dialing a number. 

“She’s taken it again. Use the tracker.” 

And sooner than you realized it, you and Changbin were being tailed once more.

--- 

The device had just beeped out eighty percent completion when you felt the first bullet whizz past your head, only missing you by inches. You jumped to the side, pulling Changbin with you as you entered a modern looking office building. 

“They caught up to us already! I didn’t think they’d check so soon, I even switched in a weight so he wouldn’t notice the difference.” 

“Nothing you can do now. Let’s get that thing loaded so we can ditch it.” 

The building was a maze of corridors and cubicles, and you took as circuitous a route as you could, to make things difficult for your pursuers. Still, they kept getting nearer and nearer, closer and closer. 

Your head start was dwindling.

And by now, you and Changbin were both exhausted, at the very ends of your strength. This was your last shot to get away. 

“100% complete. File transfer finished.” The automated voice spoke into both of your earpieces. You exchanged a quick look with Changbin. 

“We can’t get out from the bottom; they’re bound to have it sealed. The roof too probably.” Changbin considered for a moment, panting a little. 

You glanced around frantically, looking for a way out. 

And you saw the floor to ceiling windows opposite you, and office building next door, barely eight feet away. If you jumped, you could enter that building and get out that way. 

“The windows!” Changbin immediately realized what you were planning. 

“Drop the drive now, I’ll get the window open.” He reached down and pulled out the small pistol from his ankle holster. One point-blank shot to the window and it shattered, sending shards of glass flying everywhere. 

You unplugged the silver drive and ran back to the elevator, throwing it inside and pressing the button for the highest floor. Hopefully NCT would think you were heading up to the roof to escape. 

“Let me go first, then you,” Changbin stepped a few paces back, then with a running start he sailed into the night, crashing through the opposite window with a roll to regain his balance. 

“I made it, come on _____!” He called. The wind rushed through your ears, your heart pounding like crazy. 

“Come on! I’ll catch you; I promise _____!” 

You took a deep breath. 

In.

Out. 

Now or never. 

You ran as fast as you could, falling through the air until you weren’t any more.

You opened your eyes, a laugh escaping your lips as you realized that one, you weren’t dead, and two, Changbin had caught you just as he promised he would. 

Hysterical giggles burst out of both of you as you looked at each other, the adrenaline rush finally bubbling over. You’d made it, you were safe, and if you got out of here fast, you could be home within the next six hours. 

“Can you—”

“No way—”

“I didn’t even think we—”

“—we’d make it.” 

Your laughter quieted as you calmed down, the adrenaline seeping out of you leaving you more tired than before. 

Changbin grinned down at you, light and carefree. “You have glass in your hair you know Princess? They look like diamonds.” He reached over and picked a shard out of your hair, flicking it over his shoulder without taking his eyes away from yours. 

“You do too Bin.” You reached up and brushed the mess from his hair, tousling it gently. 

Suddenly, you realized just where you were. Standing barely a hair’s breadth away from Changbin, breath mingling as you calmed down, hand half tangled in his hair. 

It was like your dream all over again. 

You moved to back away, pulling your hands away from him but Changbin reached up and grabbed them both, pulling you flush against him. 

He stared deep into your eyes, his gaze pinning you in place to the point where you couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Changbin filled your senses, his scent the only thing you could smell, the light sound of his breathing the only thing you could hear, the soft touch of his fingers on yours the only thing you could feel, the warmth in his eyes the only thing you could see. 

And then—

The sensation of his lips, his tongue against yours the only thing you could taste. 

He cradled your jaw as gently as he possibly could, holding you against him and kissing you with every ounce of his being, as though if he let you go, he would lose a part of himself. 

You weren’t sure when you broke apart. 

Changbin was still close, close enough that your breath was intermingled with his, your noses brushing every time you moved even the slightest millimeter. 

“What was that?” you whispered. Somehow a normal volume was far too loud for this situation. 

Changbin scrunched his nose ruefully. “Something I’ve wanted to do for a while.” 

“Why didn’t you?” 

“I was a bit scared I’d get slapped. That and I didn’t want to fuck this up. You’re the closest friend I have _____, you’re more important to me than anyone else. I couldn’t risk losing you.” 

“Why kiss me now then?” 

“I couldn’t wait any longer. We could have died jumping just now and I don’t want to die without having given this a shot. Why all the questions?” 

“Last one, promise.” The sparkle in your eyes made Changbin gulp. “Kiss me again?” 

And you yanked him down towards you, pressing your lips to his with a sigh. 

It felt… right. 

He was meant to be yours. And you were meant to be his. 

This time you pulled away first, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment before stepping away from him. 

He smiled shyly at you, the tips of his ears turning slightly red as you blew him another kiss. “Let’s get to our hotel. Now that we don’t have a tracker on us, we can fly to your grandmother and get it to her within the next few hours.” 

“Lead the way Princess.” 

Hand in hand, you made your way out of the building. 

---

Epilogue

The car pulled up in front of your grandmother’s manor smoothly. You hopped out of the driver’s seat and handed the keys over to her butler, who bowed respectfully. 

“Welcome home Miss _____. Your grandmother is in her favorite sitting room.” 

“Thank you.” You grasped Changbin’s hand in yours and began the familiar trek to the sunny room your grandmother ran her empire from. 

“Well _____, Changbin, what took you both so long?” 

“Sorry Mama, we had some mishaps. But here you go.” You handed her the new red disc and she immediately tucked it inside her desk. 

Her eagle eyes, still sharp and perceptive as ever, landed on yours and Changbin’s hands. 

“These mishaps wouldn’t have anything to do with you holding hands with a boy right in front of me, would they?” 

“They helped us get to this stage?” You were a little nervous as she stood up and walked over to you both. 

“It’s about time you found someone _____, you keep a good grasp on this one alright? And you, boy, you look familiar. What’s your name?” 

The little twinkle in her eye suggested she knew exactly who he was. She’d met him plenty of times before, she just enjoyed playing with you both. 

“Seo Changbin, ma’am.” 

“You treat my granddaughter well, and don’t let her get too absorbed in her work. She needs a little teasing now and then alright?” 

Of all the things you were expecting from her, that had not been one of them. 

“Mama! Leave him alone, he’s been a perfect gentleman.” 

“Well maybe he should be less of one, you could do with a little shaking up. You’re far too sure of yourself sometimes _____, let yourself live and enjoy your childhood a little more. There’s more to life than just our work.” 

At this point, both you and Changbin resembled tomatoes. 

“Now go do whatever it is young people do in their spare time, I have work to do.” 

Clearly dismissed, the two of you left the room, shyly exchanging looks as you walked out into the gardens, still holding hands. 

“I wasn’t expecting her to be so…” Changbin trailed off uncertainly. 

“Forward? Pushy? She likes you Bin, that’s all. It’s a good thing.” 

“Well, now your grandmother approved of me. You’re stuck with me _____.” 

“Maybe I like having you around.” You weren’t entirely sure where this level of flirtatiousness was coming from but Changbin’s blush was far too rewarding for you to stop. 

That is, until he pecked your nose and then ran off, taunting you into trying to catch him. 

[bensakindofmagic]

Dad and His Son

so i wrote an au based on this post, because apparently i like to hurt myself. you can read it if you like to hurt yourself too. 

w/c: 1.8k

no warnings, just fluff 

A/N: this is an au in which roger is ben’s dad, and for the sake of ease/clarity/my laziness, his mum is a fictional woman. i didn’t want to get bogged down in research and step-parents and exploring those relationship cause this is just a light-hearted wee blurb. don’t get mad about it. right. that’s the admin done with. 

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine,” Ben said calmly, coming round to your side of the car as you got out and taking your hand in his considerably larger one. You took a deep breath, exhaling hard, as you took in the house before you. It had been intimidating from the end of the drive as it was slowly revealed behind the automatic gates, and as it grew before your eyes your pulse had started to quicken. It was beautiful, and enormous, and surrounded by fields and forests. You would have marvelled at its magnificence had you not been so nervous of what lay inside.

“Easy for you to say,” you muttered, disgruntled.

“It’s just my parents, and they’re going to love you, Y/N/N.”

Just his parents. Meeting the parents for the first time is hard enough, but when your boyfriend’s dad is Roger Fucking Taylor, that makes everything a little more tricky. Needless to say you were shitting a brick. 

He rang the doorbell, even though they had already buzzed you in through the gate, and what was supposed to be a steadying breath rattled in your chest. Ben squeezed your fingers. 

“Ben, darling!” his mum gushed, engulfing him in a hug. She managed to wrap him up entirely despite being significantly shorter than him.

“Mum,” he said, detaching himself from her after kissing her cheek, “This is my girlfriend, Y/N."

You smiled in your best impression of someone who’s not feeling horrifically awkward and contemplating a runner, “Hello Mrs Taylor.”

“Oh love, call me Jodie.” She smiled warmly and immediately pulled you into a hug. Ben grinned at you over her shoulder. “Come on in, lunch is nearly ready. Roger! They’re here!” she called into the house, bustling into the kitchen.

“After you,” Ben gestured, raising his eyebrows.

The house was massive, but beautifully light and spacious. A large staircase stood proudly in the middle of the hall, splitting the room and leading to the upstairs realm. Evidence of Queen’s rock-god days lay casually scattered everywhere, hiding in plain sight — framed gold discs were hung on the walls beside artworks, photos of the band were camouflaged between groups of children smiling giddily up from their frames. Conscious of not appearing nosy but wanting to see everything, you peered furtively through a half open door to see piles of old records surrounding an enormous speaker. 

“Come on,” Ben gestured with a nod of his head, “I’ll give you the tour later.”

You allowed him to rest his hand lightly on your lower back, anchoring you to him as you ventured into the kitchen/living room. 

Roger — that being Roger Taylor. Actual Roger Taylor — was sat in an armchair, idly flicking through the channels on the TV. He glanced at you over his shoulder, piercing blue eyes like ice as they caught you in their hooded stare. Ben may have got the green from his mother but the intensity of colour, the gaze that turns you into a puddle on the floor, that was all from his dad’s side. 

“Rog,” Ben’s mum admonished, “come and say hello.”

He stood slowly, and crossed the space between you: it seemed to take a lifetime. Your heart thumped loudly around your head, the sound bouncing between your ears with each step. 

“Dad, this is Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he said, testing the word on his tongue, and held out a hand to you. His skin was soft with age but still calloused in the places where his drumstick fit between his fingers. A smile hid beneath his moustache. “Ben’s told us a lot about you, but I see he didn’t mention how beautiful you are.” 

Your blush was ferocious. 

Ben scoffed, “Yeah, alright Dad. I know you still fancy yourself as a ladies’ man, but can you not flirt with my girlfriend please?”

“Well someone’s got to do it,” he mumbled, turning his attention over to his extensive wine rack. You laughed, incredulous, and Ben just rolled his eyes. 

You sat down for lunch and gratefully tucked into the beautiful food Ben’s mum had made, making sure to to compliment her and thank her for her hospitality. You were desperately careful, as images of knocking over wine glasses or sending plates crashing to the floor with your elbow flooded through you mind’s eye. Ben felt your tension and laid a palm on your knee under the table. 

He gave it a gentle squeeze and shot you a slight smile. 

“Are you keeping up your drumming, Ben?” Roger asked. 

His hummed his assent while he swallowed a mouthful, “Yeah, not as much as I’d like, what with work being so busy, but it’s a good stress reliever.” 

“Are you a musician, Y/N?” Jodie inquired.

“No, no I’m not. I’m a music lover, for sure, but I never learnt an instrument.”

“But she has an incredible voice,” Ben interjected. 

You fought a blush and admonished, “Given present company I think that’s something of an overstatement.” Roger chuckled; you felt a small glow of pride in your stomach. 

“Y/N, sweetheart, tell us about yourself. What do you do?” 

“Uh, I’m a film journalist. I actually met Ben to interview him for a piece.”

“So your thing is movies? Which is your favourite?” Roger asked.

You shook your head, “I can’t answer that, it’s like picking between your children.”

“That’s easy, Ben’s sister Rory, she’s the smart one.” His face was stoic but his glinting eyes betrayed him.

Ben grunted sarcastically, “Cheers Dad.”

Ben held conversation a lot of the time, knowing how nervous you were and how you struggled to make conversation with new people as it was. He talked you up wherever he found an opportunity and made it easy for you to engage. By the end of the meal some of your nerves had worn away and the gnawing in your belly was replaced with a satisfied fullness. Roger sat back, sated, and announced, “Alright Y/N, you get one question.”

You looked to Ben in confusion, “I’m sorry?”

“People are always dying to ask about Queen, and I like so you I’m going to give you one question. Make it a good one, mind, not just ‘what was Freddie like?’ Or ‘which is your favourite song?’”

“No pressure then,” you sighed. “Okay, who was best at scrabble?”

Roger laughed heartily. “Oh Brian, obviously. He got the highest score I’ve ever seen — it was ‘lacquers’ and he scored 168, the bastard. But Fred was a bit of a dark horse too. He used to just put one tile down and connect this here and that there and tot up all these points.” 

His eyes glazed as the memory played out in them. He gave a sad smile, cheeks dimpling with the weight of it. “Oh the adventures of life on the road.”

You got the tour of the house after lunch; Ben showed the studio and his old bedroom and you delighted in seeing his old photos in his room. You gasped, picking one up, “Oh my gosh, Ben, is this you?”

 A smiling Freddie Mercury was holding a blonde, rather pouty-looking baby.

“Yeah,” Ben smiled softly, “I never knew him properly, he died when I was still really young. But it’s pretty special to think that he knew me.”

There were more traces of Queen, and other rock ’n’ roll bands, around the room, posters and albums, and the drum kit in the corner bore the band’s logo. Photos chronicled his childhood, frequently featuring a much younger Roger. It was bizarre to you, to see that version of the man you recognised from your favourite band, holding a young boy who would grow up to become the love of your life. How strange, that those two strands of your life converged in the preserved bedroom of a teenage boy. 

“I didn’t know you were such a Queen fan, Ben. You don’t talk about it much.”

Ben shrugged, “I was a bit obsessed when I was a kid. Obviously I’m still so proud of Dad, and I love the music, but I guess I’ve toned it down a bit. I’m following my own path now, but back then I wanted to be just like him.”

His hand was sat limply in his pocket, so you threaded your arm through his and kissed his cheek. “I think it’s sweet.” 

“What do you think of them?”

“Your mum and dad? They’re lovely.”

“Not going to scare you off then?”

“Never,” you smiled. 

Back downstairs you offered to help Jodie with the washing up while Ben and Roger talked shop in the studio about some new drum kit or other. 

“You’re too good to them, letting them skip out on helping clear away,” you joked as you dried up. 

“Oh I wouldn’t usually,” Jodie mused, “but Rog likes it when Ben’s home. I think he misses the kids more than he cares to admit. But I hope that means you don’t let Ben get away with not doing his fair share!”

“Absolutely it does. He’s good about it though, you taught him well.” 

“I’m glad to hear it… You know, you’re the first girl he’s ever brought home to meet us,” she said, glancing at you. Your movements stilled. “I think he’s always been nervous about it. I suspect he was worried that they’d be intimidated by the whole thing, that his dad would scare them off. But he was very keen for us to meet you. He was most anxious that we make a good impression.”

Her words took you aback; you had been so worried about your own nerves that you’d barely stopped to consider his. When you came to think of it, there had been a slight tension in his shoulders, a hint of rambliness about the way he had spoken, as if he felt he had to fill the silences before they materialised.

Jodie continued, “You know, I thought you must be someone pretty special if he wanted us to meet you so badly. I’ve been very excited about it.” 

You smiled meekly, pressing your lips together, “I hope I didn’t let you down.”

“Oh of course not darling, it’s been a pleasure. And it’s very sweet to see you with Ben, he looks so happy with you. I think he’s quite smitten.”

You were spared your blushes by footsteps in the doorway and Ben came in, followed by Roger,  asking, “What are you two gossiping about? Already ganging up on me?” 

He slipped his arm around your waist and looked down fondly at you. 

“Hm, something like that,” you hummed, and returned Jodie’s knowing smile. 

He leant down to whisper in your ear, “I think they like you,” and nudged your cheek with his nose. 

Roger smiled, eyes sparkling, “Son, I’d say this one’s a keeper.”

[langdvnshepherd]

Midnight City (Duncan Shepherd x fem!Reader)

Word Count: 1.7k

Anonymous asked: dad!duncan trying to put his newborn asleep but bub won’t stop crying no matter how hard their momma and dad try so duncan just puts baby and momma in the car and drives around the city for a bit until bub (and momma) falls asleep. baby stops crying and all you can hear is music playing softly, duncan looks at his wife and bub asleep and gets all mushy :))

A/N: I was just going to leave this under the ask, but I clearly got carried away. This made me so soft and if you couldn’t already tell I love dad!Duncan with my whole heart. Let me know what you think, and please send in more requests! I’m having so much fun working on them all.

Duncan didn’t want to. He really didn’t. He prided himself on being independent from her, especially after everything she’d put him through. However, right now, he was desperate. He’d do just about anything if it meant he could have just one moment of solitude in the prestigious, oversized, borderline mansion he had called home for the past few years. His fingers hovered over the ‘Send’ button on his cell phone, in denial at who he was about to call for advice, parenting advice at that.

“Hello? Hello? Mom?” Duncan yapped into the speaker, speaking a little louder than what Annette thought was necessary, but then again she hadn’t been exposed to the deafening, heartbreaking wails of her newborn granddaughter for two consecutive hours like you and Duncan had.

You laid in yours and Duncan’s bed, hopelessly rocking and swaying and patting your daughter’s fragile spine, but she wouldn’t let up. She’d been screaming like she was in pain for hours now, and both you and Duncan had tried everything in the book to soothe her, but her bawling persisted. You fought back frustrated tears of your own, feeling like shit over not being able to make your own daughter stop crying.

“Yea, we just changed her.”

“No, she doesn’t have a fever. We’ve been checking every twenty minutes”

“She ate right before she started crying. There’s no way she’s hungry.”

Duncan’s voice battled to be heard against your daughter’s as Annette ran him down her mental checklist of what could possibly be wrong with your sweet baby girl. He was pacing the room at the foot of the bed, anxiously running his fingers through the dirty blonde curls that currently laid flat against his head. He had been stressed out because of his workload plenty of times, but this was a new level of worry that consumed every nerve ending in his body. Not only was he beyond hysterical over the fact that he had yet to have one, solid second of silence, but each cry from his daughter that pierced through the walls of his bedroom was another stab wound to his gut. He was absolutely heartbroken that nothing he did could cease her sobbing. Although he knew he it was a bit dramatic to be jumping the gun like this, he felt like a failure of a father already.

“What? That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.”

“It did?”

“Uh, okay. Guess it’s worth a shot.”

“I’ll let you know if it works.”

“Yeah, love you too.”

“Bye.”

Duncan turned to face you after he hung up with his mother.

“She said we should put her in the car. Drive her around a bit and see if she falls asleep,” he said while shrugging his shoulders and throwing his hands up in the air as if he already knew the idea was a bad one, but it was his last chance at getting any kind of sleep tonight.

“Why would that put her to sleep? you asked through a strained voice, rubbing your bloodshot eyes with your fingers, trying to stay sane.

“I have no idea. Annette said it worked with me when I was a baby, so...”

“Well, neither of us seem to have a better idea. Fuck it.”

You placed your howling daughter in the crib that rested beside your own, suddenly feeling like you were abandoning her and leaving her to wallow in her own despair even though you only sat her down so you could slide on your shoes and throw a sweatshirt on over the ratty t-shirt you hadn’t changed out of in two days.

Duncan raced downstairs to start the car, then raced back upstairs with the fancy, over-the-top baby carrier that you'd only used once before to take her home from the hospital. Whilst you were tying your hair up in the vanity mirror across from your bed, he picked her up from her crib and began bouncing her absentmindedly. He pressed tiny kisses to the side of her head in one final attempt to soothe her before he fastened her safely into the car seat that had to be adjusted in the hospital to accommodate her small size.

Her crying sounded even worse in the car. The confines of Duncan’s Audi, while sizeable compared to other vehicles, were much smaller than the four walls of your bedroom, meaning her shrills sounded three times as loud as it rattled through the leather interior, and through your last thread of sanity. Just before pulling out of your driveway, Duncan reached for your hand, his thumb automatically beginning to stroke yours the second they laced together. It was his silent way of reassuring both you and himself that everything was going to be okay. Even if that seemed like the furthest thing from the truth

“I hope to god this works,” he huffed before peeling out of the driveway and onto the busy streets of Washington DC.

And it did. Before you even left the gates of your private neighborhood, she had conked out. Her wails became simple cries, and her cries died down to blubbery whimpers. And then silence. The stream of tears that spilled for hours from her eyes that looked just like Duncan’s, but only one shade darker, had dried. Her tiny fists that had been tensed up from the continuous strain of discomfort had relaxed, they now rested folded up near her face, something you noticed she always did when she slept.

Duncan opted to keep driving. He’d barely been anywhere besides CVS at midnight since the baby was born, rushing out the door after you’d realized you were out of something for the baby or needed more coffee to keep you awake the next morning. And you’d been nowhere at all, too preoccupied with caring for your daughter to be granted the pleasure of seeing the city beyond the skyline that was visible from the balcony connected to your bedroom.

You navigated your way through the streets of downtown, watching the lights of each skyscraper whiz by as Duncan continued up the block. The two of you made small talk, referencing to the landmarks in the city that marked important milestones of your relationship with each other: the restaurant where you’d had your first date, the exact bench in the park where you’d meet for coffee on your lunch breaks at your old job, the street corner where you’d jumped out of Duncan’s car in a fit of rage, the start of the first but certainly not last rough patch in your relationship.

You even passed Duncan’s old apartment complex, where you’d argue was where your love blossomed. It was where you’d first kissed him, on the couch after too many glasses of wine. Where you’d first made love to each other, in the cool sheets of Duncan’s king-size bed that you swore to this day you’d never found anything as cozy. It was where you’d held Duncan for hours and hours when he called you over at 1am with the earth-shattering news that his mother wasn’t actually his mother. Where you’d first said “I love you” to each other after making up from a deafening argument you thought was the end.

The high-rise, steel building held a file folder full of memories of the two of you that was bursting at the seams, and a part of you often missed little things about it like the comfort of the leather sofa that you’d spent many nights cuddled into Duncan’s side on or crying into his shoulder or the small breakfast nook in his kitchen that overlooked the White House garden, but the house you moved into with Duncan after marrying him meant so much more. It was a symbol of all of the hard work that went into building up your relationship after years and years of testing its strength. It was where you’d grow old together. Where your daughter, and however many blue-eyed and curly-headed children you’d be blessed with in the future, would grow up. It was home.

You began to see why your daughter had dozed off so quickly. The consistent rattle of the car and the occasional sound of the city rocked you in a way, pulled you from consciousness and wrapped you lovingly in the arms of sleep. It had been weeks since you’d slept properly, but even with your head pressed against the uncomfortable car door that would definitely give you a crick in your neck, you’d never felt more at ease.

Duncan still held onto your hand as he drove, relishing the warmth that radiated from your palm and the burst of light that pierced through the windshield each time a street lamp cast its beams on the wedding band resting comfortably on your ring finger. He recalled the weeks it had taken him to pick it out. He swore to this day that the premature wrinkle he had on his forehead was caused by the very incident. Everything had to be perfect. The ring, the dinner, the dress, the monologue. And it was, despite knowing you’d be just as happy with him asking you over delivery pizza and a shitty horror movie. You deserved the best, because he was convinced no one in the world could or ever would love and take care of him the way you did.

As Duncan circled the roundabout that would lead you back to the house, he couldn’t help but feel another wave of relief. He’d been feeling them quite often in the past year. When you told him you were pregnant, when you’d fall asleep next to him with your soft, round belly pressing against his own, when he’d first held his daughter just seconds after you’d pushed her out, when he looked over your shoulder astonishingly as you breastfed for the first time.

It was all coming together now, despite spending his early twenties convinced he’d be a permanent bachelor, banished from having longterm, meaningful relationships and left to use one night stands and whiskey as a replacement. He had a successful business, his own house, a wife whom he loved with every fiber of his being, and now daughter that made his heart soar in places he never thought possible. Even when she screamed ceaselessly into the early hours of the morning.

This was his life now, and he couldn’t have asked for anything better.

//

Only taggin a few since this isn’t a /real/ one:

@avesatanormalpeoplescareme @wroteclassicaly @sojournmichael @venusxxlangdon @langdonshell @1-800-bitchcraft @hecohansen31 @readsalot73 @gold-dragon-slayer 

[pedropascalssimp]

●Part two ●

demon of the night

Summary: it's been a few days since the night Brian's car broke down, two days later he awakes with a sore neck, and a odd hunger. And angry

Warnings: mentions of blood and language. Angsty

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Its midnight when brian awakes, he yawns and opens his eyes looking around the dark room, his brows netting in confusion when he sees its pitch black dark outside, he hisses in pain as he feels a stinging in his neck, he brings a hand up lightly feeling the area, once the pad of his finger comes in contact with the area it stings, he hisses again at the painful feeling, he then scrambles out of bed and to a vanity with a mirror, when he looks in it he sees two red Mark's and a bruise. He panics and anger takes over him.

That's when he basically runs downstairs and towards the soft humming emitting from the kitchen, when he walks in he sees you standing there in a long red gown drinking something red, he would assume it was wine but it look thicker then wine would be, he stares at you for a moment, taking in the sight of you, you're absolutely gorgeous, he felt like he was hypnotized, the way your hair fell over your shoulders and your y/e/c eyes shining in the dim lighting, you're pure gorgeousness.

Then he realized he was supposed to be mad, and the anger returns, he stumped his way into the kitchen grabbing the attention of maximus who hisses at the man, you look up and smile at the man.

" what the fuck is this!." He points to his neck In a panicked angered voice, you only smile and turn around taking a drink from the mysterious red in the glass, he scoffs and looks to the floor with a tense jaw and clenched fists.

" why aren't you answering me and why are you smiling so damn much!." He almost begs as he looks back up at you, you smile again and look at him while leaning on the counter.

" well...its quite the long story and I'm sure you'd find it overwhelming so maybe you should take a seat." You say, he scoffs and let's out a noise that would resemble a whine. You motioned him to the sofa and he followed. As the two of you sit down you look toward him with eyes full of sympathy and love, and a soft kind smile. He couldn't help but to let his anger go as he looked at your beauty that seemed to wash it all away.

" to start it all off I'm not what you think i am...I'm a vampire an-." Before you could say anymore he cut you off.

" there! Not real!." He said with a raised voice, if Freddie, john or roger was hear they'd be shocked at the usually calm man raise his voice. You sigh at him.

" we are and I'm one so just listen." You say softly, but he doesn't and he stand up and paces, " how is that even possible! There these made up t-things! That people dress up as on Halloween!." He rambles, you sigh but stand up in a flash of an eye and grab his shoulders as your fangs come out, you hiss at the man and show him the fangs, his eyes go wide as he looks like he's about to fant, but thankfully he doesn't.

" sit down and listen to me!." You say in a demanding voice, he does so and stares at you with wide eyes still.

" I'm a vampire....have been for thousands years and." You say, still standing up looking at him with hard loving eyes. He gulps and let's out a shakey breath. " I didn't want to be one but it happened and I can't take it back...and I'm sorry...I'm so sorry what I did but I needed to...I had to.." you say with tears filling your eyes, he looks at you confused and you slowly get on your knees in front of him, looking at him with guilt.

" what did you do to me?..." he mumbles as he starts putting the puzzle pieces together. And quite honestly he's scared. A tear falls from your eye as you look at him.

" I had to do it...it's what was meant to happen." You say, he couldn't believe this...the anger he felt before was back and he moved you and stood up as he felt like punching something.

" you! Have basically ruined my life!." He yelled like a temperamental teenage girl, you stand up looking at him. " now! I'm this damn thing! When all I was supposed to be! Was a guitarist in my band!." He yelled, you look down and a whimper escapes your lips.

" I'm sorry...if I didn't turn you, you wouldn't ever live a life with someone you can love and trust! You would live a miserable life! And I would have died! Three days after I saw you!." You yelled back, he looked at you with anger filled eyes.

" you. are what made my life miserable..." he said and went upstairs, you cry and run a hand through your hair. He stumped upstairs and slammed the door. As he throws himself on the bed. He was beyond mad over being turned into a vampire. And know he's stranded in the middle of nowhere with a crazy woman....he feels this unbearable pain fill his chest when he thought about leaving you.

He groans in frustration at the whole situation. He just wished it was all a dream.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sit in the floor while staring at the red walls you've stared at for years upon years, you hated what you had done but its what was supposed to happen, you was told that by the very man who had turned you into what you are all those centuries ago...and you hated him, the only reason he turned you through was so the world could be populated by vampires. And That one man is who had taught you the ways of vampires and after he told you his plans you refused to populate the world with what you was, which you thought to be a a curse, so therefore making you be shunned and that's when you moved into this house in London....

You sigh and wipe away the tears and walk to the kitchen as you grab a glass full of blood you had fixed for brian, you sniffle and walk upstairs knocking on his door, you hear him mumbling something before he yells at you.

" please! Go away!." He yelled, you sigh and refuse, he needs this blood and he will take it even if you have to force it down his throat.

" you need to eat bri or you'll get sick!." You say, he yanks the door open ready to give you a peice of his mind, that is until the smell of blood blesses his nostrils. He looks down at it and cant help but to lick his lips. You hand it to him and he instantly gulps it down, as he downs the whole thing a few drips fall from the corner of those beautiful lips you found yourself craving.

" why does this taste so fucking good?." He whines while screwing his eyes shut, you sigh and look at his pure beauty.

" because it's the only thing you can eat now...its what vampires feed off of..." you tell him softly, he groans and looks up at you with hatred and sad eyes, the beautiful honey brown eyes staring into your own y/e/c ones,

" I want to leave y/n...I want be as far from you and this place as possible...please." he begs you, you sigh and a pain stings your chest as if someone was sticking needles in it,

" its easier said then done brian...its impossible!." You say with a shaky panicky voice, " neither of us would live for long....we will die without each other." You explained truthfully, but he didn't believe you.

" that's bullshit I'm leaving even if I have to walk 20 fucking miles." He said, you stand there staring at him with pleading eyes, but you wouldn't force him to stay....he would feel the pain after being gone for a day...then he would have to come back...so you step aside and let him out of the room.

" the phone is fixed..." you say quietly as you follow him. He nods and walks to it dialing John's number once more, after four rings he picks up with a sleepy voice.

" hello?." He said, brian smiles and let's out a shakey breath, " thank God john...my car broke down and I have no idea where the hell I am and I really need you to pick me up as soon as possible." He explained, over the line brian can here john sit up.

" jesus bri where the hell have you been?." Asks john, brian looks over towards you for the address, you sigh and tell him.

" well theres this woman who let me stay with her for a few days...she leaves pretty far out and her phone didn't work until know...the address is Epping new road, in loughton." Brian sighs out, john groans.

" its 1am Brian and that's quite the drive." John complained, " for goodness sake john please...the womans mad." Brian whispers into the phone but you hear it.

" okay I'll be there but just warning you now...Freddie is absolutely mad about you missing a few days in the studio...as well as roger." He warned the man, brian sighs.

" just get here as fast as possible." And with that he hangs up. You look at him with crossed arms and a frown.

" I can't stop you from leaving...so I might as well give you the warnings that come along with being a vampire..." you tell him. He sits down and closes his eyes.

" you cant sit in the sun for long or you'll basically get extremely sick make sure you always wear sunglasses if you do." You say as he nods, his head thrown back as he rests his eyes. " and always make sure to eat blood and blood only, if you eat food you'll regret it..." you add.

" anything else?." He snaps at you. Your heart breaks at the tune of voice he uses with you.

" if your gone longer then three days from your mate then you'll die from a unbearable pain that will slowly kill you." You explained, he scoffs with a laugh.

" how lovely y/n I'm so thrilled you have turned this curse on me! I couldn't ever live my whole life without it." He sarcastically praises you, a tear falls from your eye as you stare at him.

" fuck you brian." You whisper as you turn around and stump up the stairs, " no! Fuck you y/n!." He yells, you slam the door to your room shut and let a sub out.

You knew he would be upset about the whole thing but you couldn't stand hearing the way he talks to you...the tune of voice he uses as if he hated your guts...and he does...but over time he would love you, that you was sure of. But at the moment he felt everything but love for you, and that was painful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's been four hours as brian sit on the sofa silently crying, why he didn't know but he was beyond happy when he heard the sound of a car pull up outside, he jumps up with a smile as he wipes his tears away, before john could knock on the door brian swings it open and hugs the man, john stands there shocked but hugs back.

" thank god! Your a life saver john!." Brian crys in joy upon seeing his friend. John looks at Brian worried.

" just how crazy is this woman!?." He asks concerned, and that's when she walks downstairs with a small smile.

John looks at her with wide eyes. She was stunningly beautiful. " she looks really hot for a mad woman." He mumbles to brian, he only scoffs. " let's just go." Brian said, and so john waves bye and walks out, before brian could you stare at him and say his name. He turns to look at you.

" you'll regret it brian...and I'll be waiting here when you come back." You say, he scoffs and slams the door shut leaving you to cry as the pain hit you slowly. Starting off with little pain bit you knew it would build up to something unbearable.

And you sit there on the stairs as tears race down your cheeks.

[ignitingwriting]

Igniting Writing ‘Explore’ Contest 2019, Submission by Vince from Lake Erie Ink

Some good news to share with you all - we have our first entry for the Igniting Writing 'Explore’ creative writing contest, in collaboration with Fighting Words, Young Writers Project and Lake Erie Ink! Our first submission was sent in by Vince, from Lake Erie Ink, and it’s a great read, capturing the rebellious streak of bored teenagers and a supernatural twist! Have a read for yourself below:

Exploration was a godsend to the kids of Mountain Brook Street. Due to the amount of space around them deemed ‘private property’ there weren’t many places for people to hang out. Often times the kids on the street found creative ways to get around the rules or odd places to chill.

A lot of the families on Mountain Brook Street had their kids grow up there and then all leave. It was a very move-in-then-move-out kind of place. Despite that stigma, there was a small cast of families that never quite got the memo. One of these families was the Beckers. Thomas and Julie Becker had bought the house when they were newlyweds and despite having three kids of varying ages they hadn’t ever thought of moving out. Their youngest child, Richie, was definitely the most adventurous of the group. He was the youngest of the three, at 15. His two brothers, Randall and Donnie, were 21 and 30 respectively, so they were already out of his life at a young age. This meant that family visits and reunions were an absolute drag for him. On one hand he got to see his siblings, but on the other, he’d get scolded by old people he barely knew for trespassing, cheating, or whatever he’d done that week.

It was July 18th and his three cousins and two uncles were coming to town. He despised them and it’d been the sixth time this year that they decided to come ‘visit’ for a week. They all knew the real reason why they came over so often, but no one wanted to argue about it. Money was thin these days and, likewise, so was Richie’s patience about this whole ordeal. Summer vacation was an evil that he would never wish on anyone (other than his cousins, of course). He was alone to do anything his free will granted and he wasn’t happy about that. Richie longed for a chance to do mischievous things with others. He just hoped high school was going to be the haven for chaos that he’d always dreamt of. All his previous friends were one-off jerks who lived in the city and until this summer he never realized what it was like to not have people around. Luckily for him, there were a few younger neighbourhood kids that he could hang out with. One of which was always open for causing a ruse.

Gregory Palm was the perfect mixture of true neutral and chaotic evil. He lived with his parents, four siblings, three cats and a canary. Richie never really saw him as more than an acquaintance, but it was evident the feeling was not double-sided. Gregory trusted Richie with his deepest regrets and despite being a year younger was very trustworthy himself.

Today was a reckoning day for sure. Today was the day that Richie was going to do the impossible. He was going to ditch a family reunion. Gregory had told him about this place he found while wandering a few weeks prior, that was right between the steel mill and the salt mine (and processing plant) that had plagued them their whole lives. For a while ‘Private’ and ‘Property’ were the only two words he knew how to read besides the omnipresent ‘yes’, ‘no’ and ‘because’. It was just one of those things the kids of Mountain Brook Street grew up with.

Richie set off on his expedition early that morning. It was about 8:30am and the guests were due to arrive in about an hour. He yelled, “I’m going to Gregory’s house, see you later, bye!” very quickly towards the direction of his parents’ room as he stormed down the staircase to the front door. He practically leapt out of the house and slammed the door behind him. This was the beginning of a very long day. He made his voyage down the sidewalk to Gregory’s abode. It was definitely what people would classify as a fixer-upper, but it still managed to be menacing in its own way. Before even stepping foot into the yard he heard the somewhat loud voice of his friend. Gregory hung out the second floor window, dressed in a flannel and a vacation-esque floral t-shirt. He was waving down at Richie, who seemed to be shocked by the level of incompetence he was witnessing.

“Gregory, what are you doing up there? Aren’t you scared of falling? You could get hurt!”

“Shut up!”

After he gave his response Gregory pushed the window closed and ran downstairs faster than what seemed possible. He swung the door open and skidded to a halt in front of Richie. He was breathing heavily, hands on his knees.

“I told you, dude, I do a lot of things I don’t really think about first.”

“Seems about right!” Richie laughed.

“I didn’t ask for a response from the peanut gallery, did I?”

“Ugh, can it! Where is this crazy forest tunnel thing you were talking so much about?”

“Oh, yeah! Um, follow me!”

The walk was pretty long by any 14-15 year old’s standards, so there were frequent stops for water and jokes until they finally arrived at about 9:45am. Amongst the clouds of factory gas and industrial flower gardens there was a hole in the ground. It wasn’t an uncommon sight in the built-up areas between the many manufacturing plants, but something seemed to draw Richie closer.

“So, this is what you were so crazy about?”

“Yeah, I can assure you I didn't just bring you out here to any old hole!”

“Oh? What’s so special about this hole, then?”

“Look at this!”

Gregory took Richie by the arm and pulled him forward to look down.

“A staircase, Gregory?”

“Yeah, pretty cool, right?”

“I wonder what’s down –”

He was cut off by Gregory yelling, “Not it!” out loud and pulling his hand away from his friend’s arm.

Richie sighed. “So, you’re asking me to go down this suspicious spiral staircase in the middle of the woods between two big factories... by myself.”

“When you put it that way, it makes me seem like a jerk, ouch!”

“Well right now I don’t think that’s far off from the truth!”

Richie crossed his arms and turned around.

“Fine, fine, take this –” Gregory took off his bag, rummaging through the top portion and pulling out a Swiss Army knife on a keychain with pepper spray and a mini flashlight. “If you see anyone super crazy down there, you’ve got a weapon! I’ll stand up here and keep watch; I think our parents might be looking for us. I may or may not have told them I was hanging out with Tommy from over on Redwood Drive.”

“Gregory Marvin Palm, you lied to your entire household about where you were going? They have phones, you know!” This terrified Richie, although it did not cause him to leave this crazy place so soon.

He sighed, turning back around and releasing his arms from their criss-crossed position. Richie stepped on to the first step of the spiral staircase and smiled. “If I don’t make it out alive, put it on record that I told ya so.”

Gregory nervously laughed, as the other boy walked slowly down the descending pipe into the earth below.

It seemed to go on forever, down into the dark depths. Despite only being lit by the keychain flashlight, Richie could tell that the place was rather clean for what he would assume to be a sewer. He reached the bottom and walked down the long corridor extending from the final landing. There was an old-fashioned wooden door held together by metal and century old nails. He brought himself forward to grasp the doorknob and turned it. On the other side of the door, there was a huge open room, with slits in the ceiling, like water vents for rain. The walls and floor were decorated with flowers, fruits and vegetables of all kinds. It was a marvellous cacophony of darkness and life. Richie was comforted by the familiar smells, which brought him closer to the greenery.

All of a sudden, the door behind Richie slammed and he heard a ringing noise in his head. He had the Swiss Army knife in one hand and the rest of the keychain in the other. The ringing died down and he started hearing a shaky, strained voice. It wasn’t loud, yet he could still hear it. Panicked, he ran for the other door in the room that he hadn’t seen when he walked in. It was open, so he figured there was a way out somehow. The voice went in and out in his head. It sounded like a test recording of some kind. As he walked cautiously to the door, he yelled, “Gregory, this isn’t funny! Is this why you wanted me to come down here? To lock me in? You’re sick y’know!”

The voice shuddered before responding. “Who?”

Richie stepped into the second room, pulling the door open completely. There was a huge machine against the right wall, with someone in a black cloak standing in front of it. Richie was petrified with fear, which caused him to stand there blankly. The person in the cloak turned, showing his skull-like face. “Oh, I wasn’t expecting anyone! Hey! I’m not too sure what’s going on, but you seem a little worried, how about we sit down?”

Before Richie could say anything, he was sat down at a table across from this crazy skeleton-esque man. The guy was so goofy, that he couldn’t help but laugh in almost terror from being so scared before. This was of course terrifying, but not to the extent he was preparing himself for.

“Oh – um, well, before you say anything, I should probably get off my chest that I am completely and utterly deaf. I cannot understand, or lip read, but! That machine in there is for telepathy! I can hear and speak to you through brain waves! Pretty cool, right? By the way, I’m Death! Death himself!” Death stuck out his hand for a shake.

Richie obliged, shaking his hand. He went to open his mouth, before realizing that he can’t just speak out loud. Once they stopped their handshake, he started to try to speak telepathically.

“So, you’re Death himself?”

“Yeah, pretty sure I am!”

“Why do you, like, live down here with plants? Don’t you kill things?”

“Ouch! Um, not exactly. Death is at the end of life, so honestly, my job is to nurture and care until they’re too weak to support themselves anymore.”

“Weird. Why are you deaf?”

“Why? Do you ever ask someone why they have cancer? Why do they have a pet? I mean, come on!”

“So you’re not going to tell me.”

Death sighs. “Hearing is just a foresight that I cannot ever truly obtain in this mortal form. What you see now is much like a hologram of who I really am. I’m the new Death and unlike most before me I don't loathe Earth – I enjoy it. Much like people having to make sacrifices to be happy, I had to make a sacrifice.”

“Huh. I should probably get going. Gregory is probably freaking out right now –”

Richie went to stand, but Death got up before him and said, “Wait! Take this!” as he ran over to a potted plant with bright purple flowers. He walked back to Richie and handed it to him.

“You might not need this now, but here's a token of my thanks for visiting. Just remember that even if you know things are a certain way, you don’t have to take it as it is. There are a million things you can do in life and I hope that you do all that you want to before I see you again. Take care and goodbye!”

Richie woke up in a cold sweat, in an empty sewer, next to a potted plant and a staircase. No door in sight.

[hoodmara]

Here *Nick Mara*

Lmao this was out of nowhere but I’ve just had this in my head for awhile.

————————————————————————

‘Is this how it’s always going to be’, y/n thought. She had just drove an hour and a half down I-5 to get to Nick’s place, because he just couldn’t get all of his emotion out over the phone. It’s not that she hated the situation, because it was very clear that she would do anything for him. The two became each other’s ‘ride or die’ partners pretty much from the moment they met. The only thing y/n couldn’t stand was the fact that her usual 20 minute drive to the house had gone up to almost two hours. Thankfully, she had finally made it and was preparing herself for the mess of a man that would soon appear in front of her. Walking up to the door, she checked the handle to see if it was unlocked, which it was.

“For a group that complains about their lack of privacy, y’all sure are lenient with the way you protect your house” she yelled, walking through the door and shutting it behind her. She kicked her shoes off into the pile on her left and made sure to actually lock the door.

“Upstairs” she heard nick yell back. Taking her time, she sauntered up the steps. She passed each room, peering in to see if anyone else was home. She saw Austin, completely enthralled by the final fantasy game he was playing on his television, only able to shoot a quick nod her way without ever taking his eyes off the screen. Everyone else seemed to be either in the garage studio or out on the town. That was with the exception of a familiar Italian, who’s door was shut. A blue neon light was coming from under the cracks along with some Bryson Tiller melodies.

“Knock, knock” y/n sweetly said, turning the door knob slowly. She was met by the boy laying on his back, in bed and staring at the ceiling. It was hard for her to see him so broken up over the same girl, but she kept trying to mend the broken pieces.

“Hi” nick sighed softly, his words sounding sadder than y/n ever expected. Her heart broke as she saw his vulnerable state. As she looked around his room, she saw a pile of shattered glass and a picture of nick and lexy laying in the center of it. Clothes were thrown everywhere and under a pair of gym shorts, she could see a small silver necklace with a cursive ‘N’ charm peeking out.

It wasn’t normal for Nick and Alexys to fight like this. They only fought like this one other time, and that was when they broke up for two months. But this..was something different. Nick didn’t cry last time or break things, because he knew he fucked up and it was time for him to deal with that. This time, no one was at fault. The relationship just wasn’t working and it seemed like one side of it no longer found joy in the other.

Y/n walked over to the bed and sat down next to Nick’s head. She ran her fingers over his forehead before scratching softly at the front of his scalp. Finally being comforted, Nick curled up fetal style and rolled into y/n’s legs. Scooting farther in, y/n picked up the boy’s head softly and laid it in her lap, stroking his dark locks in a slow motion.

“I said I was sorry” he whispered, trying to choke back the tears that were threatening to fall.

“I know, sweetheart, I know you did” y/n replied.

“I hurt her first, and I know that, but why did she come back if she knew she was just gonna leave?” Y/n could feel teardrops seeping through her leggings as Nick spoke.

“You can’t blame her. I know its hard, but you both hadn’t come to a true conclusion of what your relationship was. You can’t blame yourself at this point either, because you worked on yourself just like she asked you to and you kept your word. Nick, baby, it’s no one’s fault. I think your clock just stopped ticking” It was hard for her to tell him the truth, but y/n knew that was the reason why he needed her so badly. She was the only one who kept him in check, even when it was hard to do.

“I loved her so much, y/n. She was my everything for so long”

“I know”

“Did she even love me at all?”

“How could she not? Even if you do dumb stuff sometimes, you’re still you and in my opinion, it’s pretty hard not to love you” There was no truer sentence than the one y/n had just said. Nick was an idiot a lot of the time. He got mad at stupid stuff, he was a secret klutz so he fell over everything and anything, and he never knew what to say, so he’d just say the first thing that came to his mind which was most often not the right thing. Despite all this, or better yet, because all of this, y/n loved Nick.

She loved him so much that she was willing to sit in rush hour traffic to try and mend his broken heart. She loved him enough to skip the celebration dinner that her coworkers were throwing for her new promotion at work. She loved him to the point that she once cancelled a date with a guy that was end game material because Nick wouldn’t talk to anyone or open his door after he found out that Alexys was talking to another guy during their first break-up.

Most of all, she loved him enough to hide her true feelings, because she thought that as long as he depended on her as a friend, what else could she possibly need?

Nick rubbed his eyes and shifted so that he could look at y/n. She sent him a soft smile and he tried his best to give one back. Y/n chuckled as his failed attempt and wrapped her arms around him, letting his head fall on her chest. She rubbed his back as he snuggled in.

“Will I get over her eventually?” Nick asked. Y/n wanted to tell him that Alexys wasn’t there anymore, because that’s what she wanted. She didn’t want Nick getting back into a relationship where she would have to keep trying to put him back together. She wanted to flat out tell him that him and Lexy were over and it would be best for him to just stop crying over it. All of these things were the truth and she knew that Nick knew that. But the only reason the boy asked her was because he knew that y/n would never tell him this in such a blunt manner, especially with the state that he was currently in. She could keep him in check, but with him crying into her lap, she went the softer route. 

“Eventually you will, but it’s ok to be hurt right now. She’s always gonna be your first love, you know? I’m happy you’re crying and not punching holes in the walls” Y/n replied. She could feel Nick chuckle against her chest, and she smiled at the feeling.

“Yeah, I could be worse” He replied, sighing into his words. Nick let his hands fall from around Y/n’s waist and he used them to push himself into a sitting position. The two sat across from each other and soon began to laugh at the sight.

“I don’t know how you put up with me” Nick laughed, running his hands over his face again. Y/n only wished she could answer him honestly, but she never did and that wasn’t going to change now.

“We have seen each other in all kinds of compromising positions, so this is just a part of my best friend duties” She smiled, patting Nick on the leg. He grabbed her hand and pulled it up to his lips, leaving a sweet and soft kiss on her knuckles. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you for all the things you’ve done for me” He said, still holding y/n’s hand. She tried her hardest not to just burst into tears right then and there. What was she supposed to do? She was officially in love with her best friend, who was still in love with his ex, and there was nothing she could do about any of it. Except what she had been doing, which was to deal with it. 

“Just keep being you and that’s payment enough. Alright?” Nick smiled at her answer and nodded his head.Y/n pulled her hand gently from Nick’s grasp and put her hand on the bed to steady her movements.She was now in a standing position and heading for the door.

“I’m gonna go downstairs and get some drinks and snacks, because we’re going to have an action movie marathon, because love sucks and explosions are awesome, am I right or am I right?” Nick laughed at Y/n’s excited tone and responded with an ‘absolutely’ before bending down to turn on his tv so he could get Netflix to start up. Y/n walked out of the room and shut the door quietly behind her. Before she began her walk down the hallway, she took a deep breath in before letting a shaky one exit. 

She wanted to kick a wall or slam a door or better yet, call Alexys and tell her exactly what she had thought about her over the last couple of months. But she didn’t do any of those things. She continued her walk down the hallway and down the stairs. As she entered the kitchen, she saw Austin sitting on the counter next to the refrigerator on his phone. It was too late for her to turn around, because she had already caught his attention.

“You playing clean up crew again?” He asked, a smirk painted on his face. Y/n rolled her eyes and walked up to the fridge, opening up the freezer door to cover Austin’s face.

“You’re being pretty insensitive for having been in Nick’s exact position like three weeks ago” She replied, pulling a pint of Ben and Jerry’s out of the freezer, along with a bottle of New Amsterdam. She closed the freezer to see Austin peering over with a smirk still on his face.

“But are you in love with me like you are with him?” His reply almost made Y/n drop the glass bottle and ice cream in her hands. 

“Will you shut up? He could hear you” She whispered, her harsh tone clearly cutting through. Austin chuckled darkly and shook his head.

“You deserve a helluva lot more than just being Nick’s therapist. Every time you’re over here, it’s because he’s had another fight with Alexys and he wants you to coddle him and tell him that everything’s gonna be alright. And if I’m really gonna spill some truth tea right now, why don’t we talk about the fact that we all know this whole nick and alexys thing is never gonna be like it was before, and you’re too scared to tell him the truth”

“I’m sorry, is that my fault? Cause last time I checked, you live with him, so if anyone has a bigger opportunity to tell him, it would be you. Besides, Nick is a grown ass man, he makes that very clear. So if he wants to date someone or kiss someone or even fuck whoever, that’s his business. I’m here when he asks me to be, that’s it.” At this point, Y/n had walked over to the counter opposite of Austin to slam down what she had in her hands. She was fuming at his reply and it was taking everything in her not to get in his face about it. Austin and Y/n were almost as close as her and Nick, so that being said, Austin was also the only one who knew that Y/n was into Nick. He didn’t know to what extent, but at this point, he could tell that she was falling hard for the guy, and was too scared to do anything about it. 

“Why are you getting mad at me? Did I finally strike a nerve so you’ll take your own feelings into consideration? Y/n, I get it, it’s easier to just be here for him, but can’t you see that you deserve to be here for yourself? Be in love and don’t give that up for anyone” Austin hoped that what he was trying to say actually got to Y/n. He had watched her disregard her own feelings for so long, it was making him hate Nick a little bit. He knew that it was no one’s fault, but things like this are easier to understand when you have someone to blame. Y/n didn’t know how to take Austin’s words, but she knew that on some level he was right. 

“Austin, I hear what you’re saying, I do and I love you for it, but I just-- I don’t have the heart to lose him. And if it gets awkward around him over something I’ve said, then I know I’ll stop coming around, and then you and I will stop talking, and I can’t lose the both of you. So just don’t say anything, ok? You need to promise me that you won’t say anything, Austin, promise me” The urgency in Y/n’s voice broke his heart. Austin couldn’t believe that she thought all of this. But he understood and he promised her that he wouldn’t say anything. With her worries mended and all the snacks she could carry, Y/n walked back up the stairs to Nick’s room, where she would have to pretend to be happy again. 

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this was long and i’m lowkey sad after writing it but i loved this and i wanted to write about someone insecure cause same but if i make this into a series, imma give y/n an actual name and she is gonna GROW. 

[illness-of-the-mind]

Story time:

This is the story how I developed borderline personality disorder. Now, there’s no way to tell for sure what caused it, but, the key points in my life that I feel that could have helped it developed.

For those who don’t know, borderline personality disorder is a mental illness that effect a persons emotions severely. It can cause impulsive behaviors, severe mood swings and many other symptoms.

Now, growing up, I lived with a abusive, narcissistic alcoholic I called my step dad. Now, this man, (names will not be given) he was the kind of guy who if you knew him outside of our family, you’d never know who he truly was. To some, he was someone who was always happy, always had a smile on his face and could bring one to others. He was an outgoing guy who could make anyone’s day. But, in our home, he was never like this, ever. He always had a bottle of caramel apple Crown in his hand, taking shot after shot until he was shit faced. He was never afraid to say what he was thinking. He was never shy about saying something about my weight, always blamed any food getting eaten in the house was me, I was never allowed to eat as much as every one else, it got to the point where I began to starve myself, this is where my Bulimia ties into the story.

When I was younger, my step dad use to spank us, whether it was with paddles or belts. He always had to make knee paddles, because they were always broken on my sister and I. He’d break doors, put holes in walls, broke things, pretty much the whole absuive alcoholic cliche.

My mom, who was married to this asshole, spent most of her time drinking. Just like my step dad, she was always drunk as well, instead of go psycho when she was drunk, she just decided to sleep, and not deal with her abusive husband. My mom was never the one to talk about feelings, she never liked the thought, anytime anything like that was brought up, she’d end the conversation and not let it be brought up. This caused a lot of emotional build up that was never dealt with.

Through that whole ordeal, I had developed the inability to even bring up my emotions or anything to do with them. It brought up issues with any counselors I had.

Eventually, my step dad had cheated and it brought more stress on the house. He eventually came back but through his entire time of being back, he had another life with another woman. I had developed relationship issues.

Growing up as a child in a abusive home and having absolutely no way to let anything off, it tends to take a toll on things.

As life with on, I still lived with the inability to talk about emotions, due to this, I grew to being unable to even explain emotion, I couldn’t explain what I was feel, even if I wanted to. I began to get moody over little things, I was extremely angry and hostile to the littlest inconvience, or I’d get extremely depressed and start cutting to someone not being able to hang out with me. My mind would tell me they hated me or they didn’t like being around me so I’d force me in my depressive state. I felt like a land mine, the smallest thing could trigger me and cause me to explode. Granted, when I was happy, I was HAPPY. I would have so much energy and excitement that to some it’d be hard to handle. I drove away quite a few friends, and I never understood why. After I had a negative emotion occurs, which was always extreme, It would always take an hour or two for me to feel normal again, id have the lingering feeling of that emotion until it eventually went away on its own. Because of this, I always told myself it felt like someone else was controlling the inside of me, and I was just a shell.

Throughout high school, I realized I no longer could feel sympathy for others, I always thought they were stretching the truth or even lying about situations they were in. Now, I was never afraid to help a friend in need, I was always the friend to go to when you needed to have a talk, but any other time, I never believed a word anyone said. It was like a switch.

Eventually I got with my boyfriend and things were great. Sure, I still had my same old symptoms but he helped me control them, he was like a crutch, he was always able to support me. I found myself buying him pretty much anything he wanted, food, cigarettes, weed, I loved to spoil him, in my mind, it was how you kept someone with you. This was never the case for him, as he saw simple gifts from his loving girlfriend, never once did he see it as an opportunity to get what he wanted, and no matter how much he showed me he wasn’t going any where, it was still hard to believe it. I grew up with abandonment, so you can see where I learned to not have any trust for things like this

I began cutting a little after high school started, it started with simple scratches that to me were harmless. To me, it was the only thing that could make me stop being mad or upset or depressed completely, it’s like when the blood flows from the cut, the emotions go with it. It was like a drug, and though I smoked a good amount of weed, it still didn’t compare to what I felt when cutting. Though it was just scratches, it developed to something more, over time I learned to go deeper, I taught myself to deal with the pain, even though it hurt, it wasn’t a hurt that fazed me, I always looked over it. After I would make a cut, the pain would last until the razor was finished and I’d begin a new cut, the pain of it just never bothered me. I’ll never forget that when cutting, the slicing of flesh feels like if you were take your blade and run it across a spool of thread. I eventually was able to go deeper to wear I actually scared myself due to how much blood came out.

I developed PTSD after starting at a new job as a pizza delivery girl, I was excited and thought I’d make good tips, which I did. I stuck around because business was always good and I’d go home every night with $60 and I’d have $200 on my checks. It was good. It was fun and games until one night, I got robbed. Two men about my age, pulled guns on me and held them to my head and demanded my money, and the order I had in my vehicle at the time. After it had happened, I had developed PTSD, which is not good when you can’t talk about how you feel. So things got worse

I was a land mine again, but worse, I would constantly shake and twitch which didn’t exactly look good at my job. I was strictly put on day shift due to my request. I eventually was forced to work one more night shift. I delivered to a man, who repeatedly asked me to drive him to the store. I had to tell him no repeatedly before I went to my car to call my manager. After my manager and I explained that I wasn’t allowed to drive him anywhere, he tried to force himself into my vehicle, so I drove off. Thinking it was over with, I returned to the store and not a minute later, he showed back up, waiting outside in the parking lot, until my shift was over. I wasn’t allowed to deliver anymore that night, I couldn’t go in the lobby, I couldn’t go outside, I was stuck in the back. After my shift ended, he was still there, waiting, so I had to call my boyfriend to follow me home, so the man couldn’t. After that, I was fed up and left the job.

My symptoms were at an all time high, I didn’t sleep, I constantly had to make sure my boyfriend still loved me, I always accused him of cheating, I was an absolute mess. Being the sweetheart he was, he never questioned and gave me the answers I wanted.

My boyfriend and I had broken up and it sent me over the edge. That night, I had decided on what I must do and I wrote a suicide not. I left it on the table next to my bed, grabbed my blade, and went and ran a bath. I got in, and slit my wrist. It was the deepest I had ever cut, I hadn’t seen blood come out of my arm that quick. The tub filled quickly, and I eventually sat in my own blood, watching it get darker. My boyfriend was blowing up my phone, and I watched the messages light up my phone. My vision was speckled and I couldn’t get up anymore, I was stuck in my tub, with no way to return on my own. Eventually, I gave in and was able to get my mom downstairs to help me out. I was bandaged, and sent to bed with my door open, and my mom on the couch.

Eventually, my alcoholic stepdad left, and I was finally able to focus on what I needed. He never let me get the treatment I needed. He’d flush my meds, or forbid me to go to my appointments. After he left, we were on high alert due to him sending us violent threats. Being an alcoholic, we never knew what he would do, he threatened that we couldn’t keep him out because he’d kick in the door or smash a window. We had to live with the curtains closed, the doors always locked including the windows. It put a massive amount of stress on all of us.

Though he was still a threat, he was gone, and I was able to start my recovery. It wasn’t until I went to the doctor, that I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, and after years and years of telling myself the symptoms were just who I was, I learned that they weren’t me, but a mental illness that took over me. I wanted answers, but never did I think It would result to this.

[estrxlar]

The Ghost Of You

06 - Too Little Too Late

Chapters songs:

Yam Yam: No Vacation

Numb: Men I Trust

4EVER: Clairo

—

Sugawara

Hey, I won't be riding the bus this morning. My father is visiting and I have to spend the morning with him I'm guessing. I might be available after school, though. So if you wanna walk

Yeah, I'll let you know. I hope everything with your dad goes okay.

Okay. See you later then.

Yeah, you too.

—

One last message from Sugawara is received, before I close the messaging app, and turn off my phone. I wasn't quite ready for what was to occur this morning: seeing my dad. You would think I would be happy about it, or at least be a little excited. But really, I couldn't be more stressed. All my father has ever done is criticize my talents, my behavior, and almost everything that has to do with me being me. Every time he comes to Japan, which isn't a lot, it's the same lecture all over again about what I'm doing with my life, and where I'll be when I'm older.

But at least two or three more hours of sleep. Might as well take advantage of missing a day, right?

—

    As I stretch out my arms under my sheets, a knock on my door is heard, followed by my mom's soft voice. "Y/n, your father is getting you today. I'm off to work, okay? Make sure to feed Astra." Her tone is low and worry full, but I wouldn't blame her. Surely your ex-husband coming back shouldn't be so easy.

   "I know, mom. Thanks. You have a good day," I say back to her, hearing her footsteps slowly disappear. That's my queue to begin getting ready. What I wear consists of something simple: a thin white shirt, a sage green sweatshirt on top, and jeans with white sneakers, which is something safe. I wouldn't want him to begin criticizing me by starting with my outfit. And as for my hair, I wore it the way I always did.

After a few moments of getting ready, I stand up in the mirror, making sure my personality wasn't showing on the outside. I hated that this is how I had to think of myself when around my parents, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. As suspected, a few minutes later, a message from him appears informing me he had gotten here.

—

Dad

Hey! I'm outside, come quickly so we can grab something at that small cafe you love.

Okay, I'll be out there in a second.

—

Nothing baffled me as much as him being so normal about this situation did, but there wasn't much I could say to him. I could only imagine how many questions he would ask me, or if he would even care about the important things, like if I was going through anything.

Reaching for a basic shoulder bag, I say my farewell to the cat, and make my way downstairs. Once I reach the front door, I take a deep breath and open it to reveal the usual view, except an expensive car stood in the driveway, with a smiling man inside of it. I smile back, easing that he didn't look pissed as fuck. After that, I locked the front door and walked towards his car.

Hesitantly, I pull the handle and step into the front passenger seat. "Hey, Dad." I greet him, meanwhile closing the door. "How've you been?"

"Hm, I've been just fine. What about you?" He begins to pull out of the driveway, and soon enough, we're on the road. "There's much to talk about."

I nod, as he states the obvious. "Yeah, of course."

This is awkward.

My hands begin to fidget, popping and stretching my fingers while he drove on the road, saying absolutely nothing. That was until I asked something to fill the empty space between us. "How's work been? I heard you got a bunch of promotions."

"It's been like always; normal. But yes, I have gotten promotions. I guess I've exceeded the limit, though. So.. what about you? You're still on your whole band-thingy?" He clears his throat, turning into another street: the same Suga and I would walk. "Your aunt says she's excited to work with you."

My aunt, AU/N, was my blueprint. She was my father's little sister, and she had a hell of a lot of money. One time when she was younger she slipped in dog pee at Walmart and sued them 50,000$. Since she was a musician, and far more successful than my band, she decided to start her label, signing many small bands like mine. And so, since I had a connection, my friends and I decided to sign with her during the summer after we graduate. We'd have to move to New York in America, but that was just fine. Because moving meant we could establish a good career and attend college as well.

   "I'm excited too. You know, to move and all." My eyes take mental images of the portrait outside today. Trees were finally growing leaves again, and grass as well; spring was around the corner. "Why the sudden visit? Is there a conference being held in Miyagi?"

My question seems like have made him uneasy, for his fingers began making small beats on the steering wheel. In no way did I mean to be so sudden, but an answer to my asking was necessary.

Thankfully, his response isn't a shout and rude remark, but a simple explanation that frankly made me feel better about his stay. "I'm most likely not gonna be able to see you before you graduate, so I wanted to spend a day with you. I know I said I'd drop you off at school after breakfast, but I thought we could hang out longer.

Is that okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

—

To my surprise, the drive wasn't as short as I thought. A total of thirty silent minutes felt as if it was an entire hour. Once we arrived at the small cafe in the plaza, the both of us got off the car and glanced at each other, beginning our way towards it.

    I had a certain idea of why he'd picked this spot for us to eat at. When I was younger, I'd spent lots of time here doing whatever I was up to, and usually with one of my close friends, (not that we're close anymore.) To be completely frank, it came to me as a shock my father even paid attention to how much I adored this place. The light lavender concrete walls and cutesy pots with succulents and house plants. Not to mention its colorful m decorations, far more improved than when I was a little kid. Still, it drew Moku, Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Toruku to make it our number one hang-out spot from the ages of 8-14, even if it wasn't as attracting as it is now.

As we enter, the small bell at the top of the door rings, and we're greeted by a young girl at the counter that surrounded many baked goods. "Welcome!" She says, meanwhile packing up an online order. "Is there anything I could help you guys with?"

"Two coffees, please." My father replied, holding up two of his long, worn-out fingers. 'Coffee? I mean, I guess. Not that I cared or anything. I honestly preferred the tea with the little peaches in it— what was it called?' My father's voice cuts off my thoughts. "And a fruit lemonade for her. The coffees are for me; long hours!"

   'That's it!' I said to myself internally, briefly smiling at the worker while she wrote a few words down. And soon enough, we're told it'll take only a few minutes. Still, it baffled me my father even remembered such a little thing I loved when I was a child.

   What a try-hard.

   The two of us find a corner table for two, and he pulls out a chair for me to place myself. I do so, as my father does the same. Then, a long-awaited conversation begins. "How did you know I liked this place?"

   He straightens his collar, saying, "You never stopped talking about it when you were little."

  "And the drink?"

  "I just remember how many times it appeared on my taxes from this place, that's all." He chuckles, leaning onto his arm along with stroking his sharp beard. "Why do you ask?"

  Without thinking, I answer sharply, looking down at the wooden patterns on the table. "Why do you think? I didn't think you'd paid attention," I say to him, quickly looking up for a rude remark.

   He effortlessly sighs and keeps the situation unproblematic. Although, I wouldn't have minded diving deeper into the reasoning of his absence. "I did sometimes. Sorry."

  I tell myself to leave it at that, to leave it at 'sorry', but I can't. I can't not say something. "Can I ask you something? And I want a valid answer, not excuses. I know you wanted to have a nice time but this is the most I've talked to you in the past year so I'd rather get straight to it than poke around the elephant in the room."

  In the corner of my eye, I see him nod, giving me an okay that I could rant. Well, more like calmly let out my feelings. "I just— I don't understand what happened. After you and mom got busy, it was a total blur. I'm not asking for you two to get together again, and I never questioned why you split up either. I'm simply asking why you guys forgot you had a daughter, that's all."

    Not more than a split second later do I realize how rude that sounded. But too bad, I wanted to know. A few silent seconds slide by while he seems to be thinking of an answer, and explanation. Then, the sound of footsteps coming towards us, signaling our beverages had arrived.

  "Two coffees," the young lady mumbles, setting them in front of my father as he smiles. "And a fruit lemonade!" She exclaims. The pink-tinted drink makes waves in cold glass in her hand once it's set down. "All set. Is there anything else I can get for you two?"

   We shake our heads lightly.

   "Alright then! Enjoy!" She beams, then happily walks away. Ever since I was younger, I never understood why the store wonder daughter was so nice. But I'm guessing it lasted throughout the years, or else she wouldn't treat customers so gently.

Father slowly lifts the drink to his lips, and enjoys his cinnamon roast, while I feel my back aching from the perfect posture I perform around him. "Ah, carry on, Y/n. What is it that makes you so upset? The idea your mother and I did all we could to give you a better life, or is it that we picked ourselves up and became better people?" His manipulative tone comes in, sending mixed signals. But I could see where he was coming from completely.

"I just wish you two had taught me what it's like to be a proper parent. Instead, every time I would try getting your attention, you would always look away, and send me off to do something else." I feel my hands squeeze my thighs under the table, as I look up and down at my father with a silent yet harsh tone, "all I wanted was to admire you and learn what was so interesting about sitting in an office working for another person. But that's changed now, right? Because you've maxed out the level of superiority now that you've not done a single other thing."

"Y/n—"

"The fact you worked endlessly doesn't bother me as much as you criticizing me does. It truly hurts me that you attempt to steer me into another direction every time you visit when you haven't even been to at least seven of my birthdays. I wouldn't be surprised if you forgot it, either. You would judge who I hung out with, what I liked to do, everything. You even judged the way I handled my best friend dying, yet didn't think to send me to therapy. Toruku's mom is the one who took us to get help, not you. Why do you do it? Why do you think it's a good idea to bring me down? You've never been there for me, so you don't know me. You never will, father. You'll never know who I am."

A trembling hand reaches for my drink quickly, as I sip from the thin black straw in silence, taking in as much as I can. And all he can do is sit quiet, still processing my explanation.

That is until he speaks, finally. "I'm— I'm sorry."

"It's too late for that."

He nods.

The straw twirls between my fingers during the spinning memories of spending more time with my friends than my parents that ran through my mind. But it's whatever, right? I did just fine raising myself. At least that's what I told myself. Truth is, I needed people. I needed to grow with others on my side. It wasn't any wonder that I felt so lonely when I was younger. I'm dependent, yet independent.

Before getting up from my seat, I make sure to down the rest of the cold lemonade I had in my hand and grabbed both my hood and small bag. "Can we go now? Please."

"Sure. We can leave."

—

After getting home, I can't help but immediately let a few tears escape my eyes. The fact two words were all my father could say made my blood boil and my bones stiffen, especially since it was the last time I would talk with him in person before I graduate. Maybe I could meet him before he goes back to Korea, but I'd rather not. Not after leaving it at that.

The doors slam still echoed through the house, while I sat against the front door, crying in my lonely arms. No car to leave, and no one to hear me except a sleepy cat. While I do so, every thought of ever healing the hole between our relationship entered my thoughts, and the never-ending process of realizing I can't fix it hurts just as much as the pain in my chest.

Throughout the blur of water in my eyes, I make out the image of a white figure lying across my feet. I look up briefly, wipe my eyes, and stroke Astras back. Her soft, thin hair glides between my fingers, giving me a realization that I wasn't completely alone. No, I wasn't. I still had old friends and family that supported me, other than my father.

Right now, I had to think about the things that were important to me. The things that would help me grow, not look back at my regrets. Maybe the purpose of his visit was a sign from the universe, telling me to get over my past because my goals are too close for me to hesitate.

I needed a break from today. A nap, possibly. I don't think I'd be going back to school anytime soon, so I might as well rest a bit. That's exactly what I need, rest after a long week. After all, the weekend was just around the corner.

I slouch up the stairs with the chunky cat in my hand. By the time I reach my room, both my pants and shoes are in the other, and I'm ready to knock out between messy blankets.

—

'Ring!' My phone makes alarms under me, sending vibrations through the pillow my head rested on, making my eyelids quickly open. A hand snaked for the device, bringing the bright screen up to my face. It was no other than the band group chat.

Xanax sluts

Giki

Guess who just got invited to a party

Toruku

Us

Giki

No me but I asked if you guys could go and they said we can bring whoever

Toruku

Bruh

Who is hosting it

Giki

Some chick names Miya I know. She's a third-year and seems like a stuck-up little bitch but she's actually pretty cool.

Hikishi

Omg I love her she's so sweet

Me

Oh I know who you guys are talking about she's the girls' volleyball team captain

Giki

Yeah

Anyways she said you guys could go

Hikishi

When

Giki

Uhh

In like

An hour?

Me

HUH

GIRL IM NOT READY FOR A PARTY TN I JUST GOT IN THIS ARGUMENT WITH MY DAD 😟

Giki

Oh come onnn just slap on a dress or something and we can go

Hikishi

WAIT YES IM SO BORED

Toruku

Will, there be alcohol

Giki

No

Toruku

Will there be drugs

Giki

No

Toruku

Then this isn't a party-

Giki

Come on she's my friends and I promised you guys would go plus she's super popular so everyone's gonna be there AND she's rich

Toruku

And who's driving us

Hikishi

You mf who else

Me

Fine I'll go but you guys better not do anything to cause attention, if there's gonna be snobby people then we're most likely to be looked down on

Hikishi

I'm so excited yayy

Toruku

What are you excited about there's no drugs or alcohol

Hikishi

Cause this is the first party we're going to ever since last month

Toruku

Oh yeah

Giki

Mhm it's like this back to school party

Toruku

Giki if this is a kids party I'm gonna slap the lesbian out of you

Giki

ITS NOT YOU TOUCH-DEPRIVED TWINK

Me

See you guys in an hour ig

Hikishi

Oh-

—

Mom

Going out tn

Ok. Are you staying at anyone's house?

Maybe. Idk yet

How did it go with your dad

It went fine

Good baby I'm glad

Tell me when or if you get to someone's house

Ok I will love you

—

Happy that my mother didn't make an argument, I sigh, checking the time. It seemed pretty dark outside, so it had to be around eight or nine. And quickly after, I decide it's best to begin getting ready, again.

—

Please note chapters, it means a lot. I work endlessly on these making sure they're perfect for you guys. Have a good rest of your day, and I hope you take care of yourself. Love you lots!!

- estrxlar

[nervyghost]

Back in all of my glory with another chapter of  @littlekiwifrog ‘s Turned good AU! This one (like the last chapter) got crazy long, but it mostly did so because I wanted to write something with the rest of the losers. (Cursing, as per usual with these losers) I’m tagging @da-chubby-burb as my lovely beta, and just before I begin, I wanted to ask if any of you wanted to be on my tag list.

Yep! You heard it! I’m starting a tag list, so if anyone wants to be added, shoot me a PM and I’ll be more than hapy to throw your name into the next one! That’s it from me, enjoy the chapter!

Bill hammered on his younger brother’s door for what had to be the thirtieth time that morning, his patience wearing thin as seconds ticked by. “JUH-GEORGIE! C’MON!” He shouted irritably. The sound of bedsheets being torn off of a mattress followed his words, causing him to add: “If you’re not out here in f-f-five minutes, I’m leaving wi-without you!” There was a crash from within the room along with the sound of clothes hitting the floor with a panicked sort of haste. Bill smiled and shook his head fondly, knowing full well that his brother was nowhere near ready to go and meet the gang.

Richie was hardly ever on time anyway, and Georgie was practically stuck to the other boy’s side whenever they were in the same room, when he wasn’t asking Stan a thousand questions about birds. Both would complain sometimes, but Bill knew they both secretly loved the attention the seven-year-old was more than willing to give them. Before he could become too lost in his thoughts, he turned his attention back to the door decorated with turtles and banged on it again, harder this time. “Suh-sometime today!”

“COMING!” Georgie hollered. Bill listened as the banging noises became more frantic, less spaced out, and altogether hectic as the boy within fought with his pajamas and tugged on his clothes. With a final creak of protest from the floorboards, Georgie emerged in all of his glory, his hair swept awkwardly across his face to obscure his bright eyes. He was quick to brush his bangs out of his eyes and look up at Bill with a grin on his face.

He tugged at the strings of his yellow hoodie before striding forward, trying- unsuccessfully- to hide his excitement. “I’m ready to go, Billy!” He chirped. Bill shook his head firmly.

“Guh-go eat something.” Georgie’s face fell near instantly.

“You’re going without me?” Bill snorted and leaned forward to ruffle his hair.

“Course not.” He reassured him. “But you sh-should eat something first.” Georgie looked ready to argue but Bill silenced him by turning on his heel and striding in the direction of the door. “I’m j-just going to fuh-fix Silver up a bit, okay?”

“Okay.” Georgie seconded, running to Bill’s side to grab him around the waist and stare up at him with his big brown eyes. “Promise?” He asked. Bill smiled.

“Of cuh-course.” Georgie grinned up at him. Bill almost felt bad for crossing his fingers behind his back as the younger boy bounded to the parlor to snag a muffin.

Bill knew he wouldn’t have long to wait before he was back at his side, so he quickened his step, letting his feet carry him out of the front door and to the pair of bikes parked neatly out front, looking like two dogs waiting for their masters to return. Bill ran his hands over Silver’s rusted frame. “Not yet.” He whispered to it, letting his fingers run over the dents in the handlebars before pulling away. Silver was in pristine condition, as always. The bike he was worried about, was Georgie’s.

He stared at it, wondering idly if it would disappear before his very eyes, but the bike remained, its blue paint gleaming in the sunlight as it waited for Bill to touch it. It seemed to call to him, which was ridiculous. It was a bike, not some sort of child-eating-demon. Bill still couldn’t bring himself to even touch it, the smell of what he knew wasn’t popcorn clinging to it like a foul musk to a wild animal. He had to take a deep breath before laying his hand on the cheery paint, just to calm his racing heart. It was stupid, really, to be afraid of a bike. He hated that he had to fight to convince himself that was true.

He knelt next to it and poked at the spokes, his eyes scanning the chain for any kinks or breaks in the metal. He ran his finger along the edge and inspected it further, the links cool on his hands. He pulled away with hesitance, wiping the grease stains on his hands across his pants, leaving twin smears across his jeans. He hardly batted an eye, standing to feel the seat instead, searching for anything sharp, not wanting to be responsible for anything bad happening to the kid.

He almost wanted to find something, just to prove to Georgie that Penny was nothing more than imaginary, but the lack of anything dangerous was driving him up the wall.

And, it still didn’t explain how it ended up in his bedroom with a red balloon. He didn’t want to admit how long he had stared at the red balloon, a feeling of dread causing his stomach to twist into a tight knot of sheer fear, the room near electric. The hairs on the back of his neck had stood on end as though Georgie had left his window open.

He hadn’t.

As he further inspected the bike, he couldn’t hold back more skeptical thoughts regarding Georgie’s friend. It was impossible for it to have brought the bike back, and Georgie wasn’t one to lie. Bill had no trouble believing that the Bowers gang had attacked his little brother, it had happened enough times. But the part that he was finding hard to swallow was the fact that the bike had been returned. Someone would’ve noticed if their house was broken into, surely. And for the intruder to be carrying a bike? It just didn’t make sense.

But, as his hands wandered up and down the pristine bike, he came to his conclusion. The bike, was just that. A bike. A blue bike that somehow had magically appeared in his younger brother’s room after being tossed into the river.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when the door behind him swung open on squealing hinges. He threw his leg over Silver’s sturdy frame and rested on the seat, watching with a forced smile as Georgie galloped over to his own ride.

“I had a muffin!” He proclaimed.

“Knew it.” Bill booted the kickstand into place and began to pedal forward. “C’mon, or R-Richie will beat us th-there!” That was all the convincing Georgie needed to spur the bike forward and out of their yard. Bill looked toward the road as Silver began to pick up speed and he stood up on the pedals, loving the feeling of wind in his hair. He let it blow all thoughts of ‘Mr. Penny’ out of his head, and with every noise of metal-on-metal that Silver let out, he felt just a little better about- well, everything.

He would never admit it, of course, but on the day Georgie had gone out all alone with his little paper boat, something inside of him just screamed that his brother was in danger. And not just in danger of a fall, or a bruised forehead, no. Bill was almost certain that something absolutely horrifying was going to happen to Georgie while he had been immobilized by fever. It was stupid, really, but the fear gluing him to the bed had felt so real, so cold and sharp, he was positive that he’d never see Georgie again. He didn’t want to admit how he had stared at the ceiling and said a silent prayer for his brother’s safe return as the piano downstairs played the tune Für Elise. It seemed to last for hours. Hours of waiting to hear Georgie’s screams from the window. Days of wanting to be anything but as useless as he was. Years of feeling his head burn and sweat drip down his back.

And then- Georgie had come home. Wet and waterlogged, but with a joy that warmed him from head to toe. He would never admit to practically leaping down all the stairs in a single bound when he heard his brother call him down.

He wasn’t even mad about the boat, not really. It was only his cold that stopped him from scooping his brother up in his arms and holding him close, just for a second. He’d be able to blame it on being more than a little loopy off his meds (As they all knew Eddie had been in the past) and that would be that.

“Wait!” Bill slammed on the brakes and nearly went flying over the handlebars as Silver screeched to a stop. He shot Georgie a dirty look.

“Wh-What the hell, Georgie?” He snapped. Georgie looked a little bit sheepish as he dismounted and began to pull his bike toward Bill, crossing the arguably large distance between them until he was at his brother’s side.

“Could you slow down a little?” He asked, looking as though he was asking Bill to carry out his own death sentence. Bill’s glare turned into a soft smile.

“Course.” He slid off of Silver’s seat with ease and began to walk his beast of a bike, Georgie’s looking ever so small in comparison. The small grin he earned as a reward was more than enough to make up for being late.

“So,” Georgie looked at the passing houses as he spoke, a hundred unsaid thoughts rushing about in his head. “Why exactly did Richie call you in a panic last night?” Bill let out a small laugh.

“They went to the N-Neibolt house, H-Him and Bev.”

“Why?” Bill shrugged.

“D-Dunno. Riche was too puh-panicked to say an-anything other than fuh-fuck and shit. It’s a w-wonder I got anything out of him at all.”

“Why was he panicked?” Georgie asked. Bill hesitated for a moment before deciding to be truthful.

“Well, I couldn’t guh-get much out of him, y-you know T-Trashmouth. Buh-but, he said that it always seemed ruh-really creepy to him, juh-just the whole place, y’know?” Georgie nodded. “An-Anyway, th-they said it was no-normal, except for the smell.”

“The smell?” Georgie echoed.

“L-Like something from the o-old drainage tunnel. Se-sewer water.” He knew that his brother wouldn’t sleep that night, but he hardly cared. “And downstairs, B-Bev and Richie kept s-saying that they were hearing this creepy n-nursery rhyme about oranges? M-Mike said it was super old, like from the seventeen-hundred-”

“Oh, Billy! Wait a sec!” Georgie rolled his bike to a stop and pushed down the kickstand of his bike. Bill watched him slide off of the seat and reach into his pocket, fumbling for a moment before his hand closed around something. “Mr. Penny?” He asked, a small grin finding his face. “Thanks for getting my bike back!” Bill could’ve sworn he saw something glimmer in the dark opening, but once he blinked, it was gone. That same feeling of unease began to creep back into his bones as his brother drew a small bag of popcorn from his pocket, along with a couple of hot cocoa packets. “I brought you some popcorn since yours blew away in that storm! And some hot cocoa packets ‘cause I bet it gets cold down there.” Bill smiled softly as Georgie rested the offerings in the leaves.

He shot Bill an innocent smile as he straddled his bicycle once more, only stopping to say a cheerful: “Hope you like them! Bye, Mr. Penny!” over his shoulder. The two pedaled forward a few feet before Bill spoke again.

“You really th-think that your imaginary f-friend from the sewers is the one that b-brought your bike back?” Georgie nodded enthusiastically.

“How else did it get in my room with a red balloon? I just wanted to say thank you.” Adding under his breath: “And he’s not imaginary.” Bill rolled his eyes, the near-horrific prickling sensation in his stomach completely forgotten.

“F-Fine.That just better not have been the k-kettle-corn from the fair.” Georgie began to pedal faster, Bill keeping pace easily astride Silver.

“I only took some of it.”

“G-Georgie!” Georgie, however, had already shot ahead a few feet, his legs pumping madly as he raced along the street. Bill grit his teeth and pedaled harder.

Had either of them turned to look back, they would’ve seen a pair of gloved hands reach up from the sewer and delicately grab the offerings, pulling them into the darkness.

Georgie kept shooting glances over his shoulder at Bill, cackling madly in a way that only a seven-year-old child can. He wasn’t even mad, not really. He just wanted to get into the competitive spirit, and what better way to do it than to race his sibling to the Barrens?

“Shit and shinola!” He heard Georgie shout as Silver’s huge front tire began to overlap his shadow. Bill grinned, standing up on the pedals and coasting past Georgie with ease.

“I’m g-going to beat you th-” This time, it wasn’t his stutter that caused him to stop. He was stopped by a sharp cry of:

“Look out!” from Georgie. Bill slammed on the brakes for the second time that morning and felt the back tire begin to skid out of control, leaving a black line on the street in its wake. He screeched to a halt, his heart hammering heavily in his ears, but-

Georgie began to cackle and he shot past Bill, nothing more than a blue blur. “Gotcha!” He crowed. If looks could kill, Georgie would have winked out of existence in an instant, leaving his bike to freewheel right off the road.

“You little sh-shit!” Bill leapt off of Silver and grabbed the handlebars, putting his head down like that of a charging bull as he tried to coax Silver out of its dormant state. He began to barrel forwards, the clink clink clink of the chains beneath him drilling into his skull. Forcing himself to breathe evenly, he kept on pedaling, sweat beading on his brow even though the morning was cold. His hot breath fogged up the air and he lowered his head, giving Silver one more good kick to keep it going as he stood on the pedals once more. He could see Georgie’s bike wobbling and pushed himself to keep on pedaling like a crazy person.

Georgie looked over his shoulder and Bill grinned as his face drained completely of color. “Gotta be fuh-faster than that!” He taunted as he crept ever closer. Georgie squealed in response and stood up on the pedals. Bill didn’t do so much as slow down.

“Bill!” Georgie shouted. Bill stuck out his tongue as he zipped past.

“Gonna b-beat ‘ya!” He knew he was the textbook definition of a big brother when he rolled into the Barrens, a huge, somewhat cocky grin in place on his face. Georgie wasn’t too far behind, but even though he was tired, it couldn’t stop the scowl that slid onto his face.

“Cheater.” He huffed, sliding off of his bike so he could properly cross his arms. Bill playfully knocked shoulders with him.

“I’m n-not the one who caused the uh-other to slam on the buh-brakes.” He quipped. Georgie sighed, but Bill could see the small smile on his lips. “Cuh-come on, the others are probably waiting.” That caused Georgie to stop hiding his smile.

“Really?” Bill didn’t have time to respond before his suspicions were confirmed.

“Oh, come on!” Richie’s voice rang through the trees. “I’m not going to die, Eds! It’s a leaf, for fuck’s sake!” Bill grinned and began to quicken his pace in the direction of the shout, already able to see flashes of Richie’s eye-bleedingly bright Hawaiian T-shirt through the trees.

Bill was about to turn to Georgie to prompt him in the direction of the gang, but the boy was already bounding ahead, the strings of his yellow hoodie bobbing unevenly on his chest. It didn’t take him long to follow close behind. The scene he walked into was one that instantly caused his already wide smile to stretch impossibly wider.

Eddie was standing on a tree stump, pointing an accusing finger at Richie as he yelled something unintelligible about diseases and animal shit, hands fiddling weakly with his inhaler. Mike however, was his polar opposite, leaning forward and tapping his fingers on his thighs, eyes fixated on the object of Eddie’s discomfort.

“You can’t just eat leaves!” Eddie shrieked, “You’re going to give me a fucking asthma attack!” Ben was laughing so hard he could hardly make any noise, his shoulders shaking with frenzied giggles. Bill could practically hear Stan roll his eyes. Richie looked up at Georgie with the biggest shit-eating grin that he had ever seen, a leaf hanging from between his lips.

“Why are you eating a leaf?” Georgie questioned between giggles. Richie held up one finger, causing Eddie to gag.

“If you swallow it, you’re dead to me.” He threatened. Richie shrugged.

“I’m already dead if I eat this anyway, if what you say is true.” He managed to say around a mouthful of plant.Stan choked on the laughter he was holding back, letting it out in a sort of gasping bark.

“Suicide attempt,” he wheezed “I can see the headlines: Local boy killed by leaf.”

“T-Tragedy.” Bill agreed. Georgie was already at Richie’s side, peering curiously at the boy who was now doubled over, holding up his glasses with one hand to keep them from falling off.

“What’re you doing?” Richie made an exaggerated gulping noise and Eddie let out a high-pitched whine.

“Don’t you dare!” Eddie’s voice was nearing a screech now, sounding just a little more frantic. He turned his wide-eyed gaze to Stan. “Did he fucking swallow it?” Stan shook his head.

“Not yet.” Georgie’s eyebrows knit together.

“What’s he doing?” Mike chuckled.

“This loser,” He pointed to Richie, causing the accused to lay a hand over his heart dramatically. “Was pretending to lick a leaf, which, of course, set Eddie off.” Stan nodded, brushing a few stray curls behind his ear before continuing Mike’s narrative.

“And so Eddie’s ranting on and on about-” He laughed, cutting himself off. He had to brace himself against a tree until his frenzied giggles stopped. “About how you can get some disease-”

“Not a disease,” Eddie cut in. “Poison. Deadly poison.” Richie rolled his eyes dramatically and began to tip his head back. “SWEAR TO GOD, RICH!”

“Right,” Stan continued, “That. Anyway, that led to Richie saying, and I quote-” Richie grinned widely.

“I’ve got this one, my man.” Richie cleared his throat, but momentarily forgot that his mouth was full of leaves. This, of course, led to him inhaling a mouthful of leaves and gagging as one got stuck in his throat. Eddie instantly began prancing about on his stump whilst screaming:

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!” Richie hammered on his chest once and coughed feebly.

“I said-” He croaked. Bill cringed as something green dripped from Richie’s mouth. Richie followed Bill’s gaze and tried to wipe it from his chin with little success, leaving a bright smear across his jawline. “I said-” He tried again, only managing to make it worse, to everyone except Eddie’s amusement. “That-” A gob of something green was visible between his two front teeth. Georgie giggled, which of course, caused Richie to grin wider. Eddie gagged again. “That I could probably eat five of them and be fine, because they’d taste better than his Mom did last night.”

“Beep beep, Richie.” Mike warned, jutting his chin out in the direction of Georgie. Richie waved him off.

“He’s fine, right Georgie?”

“Yep!” Bill rolled his eyes and moved to sit beside Mike.

“How long’s huh-he been ch-chewing on those?” Mike flashed him a wide grin.

“Few minutes? Eddie can probably give you the time to the second.” They both leaned forward as Richie turned back to Eddie. “I wish we had popcorn.” Mike mumbled. Bill covered his mouth with his hand to hide his laughter.

“You know what,” Eddie threw his hands up in the air and stalked over to where Bill sat. “It’s your funeral.” This sent both Ben and Stan back into hysterics. Richie surveyed his audience with a gleam in his eyes that made Bill more than a little bit nervous. It was the signature Trashmouth look, the ‘Hey, look at me!’ sort of look he usually put on when he was about to do something stupid. Bill wasn’t wrong.

With a theatrical sort of flourish, he tipped his head back and swallowed the leaves in one gulp. Eddie looked like he wanted to scream.

“You’re disgusting.” He spat. Richie shrugged.

“Maybe so.” He licked his lips and Bill noticed that his tongue was tinted with a toxic looking green. “Still tasted better than your Mom did last night.” With that, he bent at the waist and bowed low, holding up his glasses with a green stained finger to keep them from falling off of his nose. Georgie applauded enthusiastically while Ben and Stan hooted their approval. Eddie glared at Richie until the giggles coming from the rest of the losers ceased.

“As much as I cherish every moment spent with you,” He growled. “I really hope this isn’t the reason you called me, and my mother while doing a god awful Mexican-”

“Pancho Vanilla, senor.” He corrected, but his smile faded with his next words. “No,” He broke off into nervous laughter. “God, I wish.” Something about Richie’s tone of voice made Bill’s stomach knot. He shifted his weight from one side to the other in a sort of nervous fashion as Richie wiped his tongue on his shirt and cleared his throat once more. “Can I wait ‘til Bev’s here?” He asked.

“Sh-She’s coming?” Richie nodded.

“Si, senor.” Mike leaned further back toward the tree he was propped up against.

“Depends if her psycho dad lets her come.” He pointed out. Georgie frowned.

“Psycho Dad?” He repeated uncertainly. Richie opened his mouth to respond, but Bill was quick to cut him off.

“Beep buh-beep, Richie.” They all knew Beverly’s home life was far from perfect, but Georgie didn’t need to know why she showed up with bruises on her arms some days, or with nasty gashes on her knees. They’d all seen the scars. All, that is, except for Georgie, and they intended to keep it that way.

“Ah, he couldn’t keep me away if he tried.” All eyes turned in the direction of the feminine voice, and they all pretended not to notice how Ben sat up just a little straighter.

“Bevvie!” Georgie was the first one to move, prancing through the trees to give her a hug. Bill would never say just how much he liked to hear her laugh.

“Hey, Georgie!” She said between melodic giggles. Bill watched as Georgie tugged her into the circle by the hem of her spotted summer top, oblivious to the eyes on him. Bev’s smile faded once she saw the solemn expression on Richie’s face. “Neibolt?” He nodded meekly.

“Wanted you to be here, but you’re here now, so…” Richie rubbed at the back of his neck nervously and coughed, causing Eddie to elbow Mike in the ribs. Bill managed to overhear Eddie saying something about how:

“He’s been poisoned, see?” Mike scoffed.

“Nah, he’s fine. Just nervous.” Bill’s stomach twisted unpleasantly upon hearing that Richie, of all people, was nervous

“Yuh-Yeah.” Bill agreed. Ben and Stan had both sobered up once Beverly appeared and sat at attention. Even Eddie had calmed down enough to take his eyes off of Richie as he sat next to Georgie, Beverly on the other side of the smaller boy.

“Do you want me to start?” Beverly asked, her questioning gaze connecting with Richie’s. Richie nodded.

“Si, Senorita.” She cuffed him on the shoulder playfully before turning her attention the ensemble.

“Okay, so. Neibolt street.” The clearing was silent as she gauged their reactions. Bill silently willed away the blush on his cheeks and the way her gaze made his thoughts blur together like the words that left his mouth. She laughed nervously. “Where do I even begin?” She stood and began to pace, nervously fiddling with the folds of her dress. “Everything inside was normal, I guess, for Neibolt. It was this idiot’s idea to go into the basement.” Richie let out a small squeak of indignance.

“Your idea.” He corrected. Beverly rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. We weren’t down there for very long anyway.” Richie slumped forward and averted his eyes, mumbling something that nobody could make out under his breath. “So, we’re walking around in the pitch-darkness, both of us bitching about our lack of flashlights when-”

Richie shuddered. “The fucking singing started.”

“Singing?” Stan asked, his voice showing how much he didn’t want to know, but also how much he knew somebody had to ask.

“Yeah, singing, if you can even call it that. It came from the well past the puppet room full of clowns.” Bill was surprised that Richie could even get the words out of his mouth from the way he was shaking. “It kinda, echoed…” He pushed his glasses up into his hairline and let out a groan. “Jesus.” He har to take a few deep breaths before continuing. George shifted over to him wide eyes, sidestepping Eddie in order to get closer. “We ran after hearing that shit, we didn’t even have to say anything to each other, we just kinda-” Richie searched for the right word for a moment. “Knew.” He settled with. “Like, dunno, we read each other’s minds or something.”  

“No,” Beverly corrected, moving to tug at Richie’s shirt. “We just fucking ran.”

“True.” Richie admitted. “God, I can still fucking hear it, just the tune.” Mike propped his chin on his hands, letting his feet shuffle nervously beneath him.

“Oranges and lemons…” Bill frowned, not wanting to acknowledge the prickling sort of anxiety sparking into existence in the back of his mind. Georgie, however, didn’t seem to mind. His gaze kept shooting from Richie back to Beverly, his questioning gaze lingering on them until they looked away. Bill knew he wanted to speak up, but also knew that he could sense the tension leaking off of all of them.

“Oranges and lemons?” He watched as Georgie tried to make eye-contact with the losers. “What does that even mean?”

“It’s a nursery rhyme.” Mike answered, his voice uncertain, as though he didn’t want to keep speaking. Bill knew the feeling well. He had enough problems with speaking to know. Every time somebody teased him for his stutter and he knew that defending himself would just make it worse, he still wanted to, just to prove them wrong. Every time he would stand in front of his Mother in the dining room, hands clenched into fists that quivered at his sides and his jaw so tightly shut, he thought it would break off from the tension. Every time he would open his mouth with her eyes on him, trying to make sense of all the noise.

He thrusts his fists

“It’s about churches.”

Against the posts

“How’s that scary?”

And still insists

“Look, when you hear it while in the basement of a house that could collapse at any given moment.”

He sees the ghosts

“It’s pretty fucking terrifying.” Bill could tell Richie was fighting hard to keep his voice under control. Even Eddie looked like he was showing the boy some sympathy, his gaze infinitely softer than it had been mere minutes ago. “We hardly even talked on the way back.”

“I cuh-can see why.” Silence descended in heavy waves in the barrens, not even the birds were singing as they all thought over the words that had been shared. It was crazy, really. Batshit insane, as Richie would not-so-delicately put it. Bill couldn’t say he disagreed. “D-Do you remember the tu-tune?”

The two who had been in the house paled and shared a glance.

“It’s just a song.” Richie reasoned. Beverly nodded.

“Right.” Beverly agreed. “Not like it can follow us.” She was the first one to start humming, and after a few bars, Richie joined in, adding his voice to the haunting melody. Bill felt the hairs on the back of his neck begin to stand on end as slowly, Mike began to try and add words, despite his lack of a proper tune.

Uneasy looks were shared between all of them, Richie and Bev’s eyes staying firmly squeezed shut, as if opening them would unleash an unspeakable evil onto the entire club. Bill wasn’t sure he disagreed with the notion, as insane as it sounded. Even after they had stopped, the notes seemed to linger in the air along with Mike’s uncertain words, leaving a near-electric sort of crackle in the air in its wake.

“That was…” Stan’s voice trailed off uncertainly. “Wow.” He settled with.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice cracked and he flushed beet red. “Shit.” He mumbled, rubbing idly at his left arm, not wanting to meet anyone’s eyes. Georgie was gripping Richie’s hand tightly and bouncing his knees.

“You can open your eyes.” The nervous way he was speaking made Bill feel a pang of sympathy. “Richie?” Richie slowly opened one eye.

“What, little dude?”

“Are you…” Georgie bit his lip. “Are you feeling okay?” He laid his hand on the other boy’s knee.

“I’m always okay!” He insisted. “It was just,” He shuddered violently. “God…”

“It’s over n-now.” Bll managed to get out. “You’re huh-here with uh-us. It’s suh-safe.” The others nodded in agreement.

“And if it isn’t, whatever was down there is getting the shit kicked out of it.” Bev cracked a smile at Mike’s words. Her green eyes widened and she blinked once, slowly, as if she was lost and just regaining her bearings. Bill offered her a small smile and tried to hide the flush his cheeks gained when she returned it.

Conversation was hesitant after that, the dark cloud of what had been said hanging over the small group, weighing on their shoulders with just how- real it was. Even Richie’s constant jokes couldn’t lighten the mood, no matter how many times he pinched Eddie, all he got were a few forced chuckles. Eddie hardly even reacted, just swatted him away and tried to refocus on the rest of the club. He ended up being the first to go, and before Bill had time to do so much as blink, he was walking his bike next to Georgie on the way home.

“They were pretty scared of that lemon song.” Georgie stated after a few moments of silence.

“Yuh-Yeah.” Bill agreed, shifting so he could push his hair back from where it hung on his forehead. “Let’s just guh-get home, okay?” He silently begged Georgie to grasp the change of topic, not wanting to have to tell him about the creature that they all knew was haunting the town of Derry.

“Okay, Billy!” Georgie chirped, straddling his blue bike. His yellow hoodie seemed to glow in the sunset, and Bill couldn’t help but smile. “Do you think Penny liked his popcorn?” Bill swung his legs over Silver’s back and began to pump.

“Puh-probably tastes better than wh-whatever’s in the sewer.” He panted between breaths. The steady clicking of Silver beneath him helped ease his mind.

“Sewer popcorn.” Georgie mused. Bill grinned at that.

“Gross.” Let the kid have his fun. After all, imaginary friends were harmless, and a clown in a sewer couldn’t be the worst thing in Derry.

[liw-the-melancholic-apple]

How it may have gone - Humble Beginnings

A fic taking place in the marauders era. While the political climate seems to head to a conflict, James, Sirius, Remus and Peter are still just teenagers. Dealing with typical teenage problems.

But this year their little group grows. Who would have known that more prefects would be a good thing?

Masterlist

Eight: New Year New Me I

When I woke up the next morning I was absolutely disoriented. The room I found myself in was white and royal blue and completely foreign to me. I wore a red shirt I had never seen before that was at least three sizes too big and smelled of chocolate and coffee and there was a very annoying ticking noise that had woken me up. 

I sat up and the big bed with the absurdly fluffy and comfortable sheets and took in the room again. Right, I was at the Potters. As I curiously looked at the expensive white furniture and the blue satin on the chair, floor and curtains I found the source of the ticking. It was a cute little owl pecking its beak against the window. With a moan and a yawn I got out of bed and opened the window. 

“Morning”, I mumbled while untying the envelope from the owl’s leg. I couldn’t find any crackers or other snacks for the poor thing, so I massaged her neck while reading the note. It was from my mum. She, too had been woken up by the bird and wrote that that was for my sake. Had she found my bed empty before hearing the Potters had taken me in for the night all hell would have broken lose. She was happy I was alright, wondered why I hadn’t gone home with Crick – Crap! My sleepy mind had not yet thought back to that disaster that would probably haunt me through the first months of this new year and my heart instantly sunk to my stomach – and asked me to write her when I wanted to be picked up. Dad would get me. Straight forward enough. 

On the carefully carved nightstand I found an antique alarm clock that told me it was nearly half past eleven. I hoped I wasn’t the last to get up and downstairs to the kitchen. That would be embarrassing. I jumped into my jeans, decided to keep Remus’ t-shirt on for now as it was more comfortable and warmer than my own and snuck over to the bathroom. 

I brushed my teeth, washed my face and untangled my birdsnest of hair with a brush I found in one of the drawers. With only six hours of sleep I didn’t have the energy to put it into either a bun or even a ponytail and I just let it hang down to hips. 

Back in my room I called the owl to my arm and took it down with me. In the foyer that I already knew I heard noises that sounded like utensils on plates and I smelled coffee. It seemed I was the last one to get up and everybody already was having breakfast. Bothersome. I didn’t want to be the uninvited houseguest and the idiot to delay the start of the year. 

Nonetheless I followed the sounds down a corridor I hadn’t seen last night and found myself in front of a white door with four round milky windows through which I could make out at least two figures. I knocked before I entered. 

Turned out I wasn’t the last one to wake up. I was the first one. At least of the students in the house. Upon my knocking both figures had turned their heads to the door and welcomed me with confused and concerned looks.  

The owl flew over to the tall man with the mane of grey hair. Absentmindedly he fed her some crackers from a jar next to him. 

“Ehm… Good morning. And happy new year.”  

“Good morning”, the man, who I assumed to be Mr Potter said, still very stern looking. 

“Happy new year, dear”, the short woman with all the laugh-wrinkles said warmly and reassuringly prompting me to explain why I was in their house and had their owl with me. 

“I’m sorry for intruding. My name’s Jette de Witt, my parents live over in Marlowe’s Creek. I met your son and his friends last night at the Raven and … well, I was supposed to go home with a friend of mine but that didn’t quite worked out and so P… James was kind enough to offer me to floo home through your fire place but we couldn’t find any floo powder and then he insisted I stayed, which I did.” I breathed in. “I wrote my parents last night not to worry, that’s why she was with me”, I gestured at the owl. 

“To be honest I had hoped P… James had either left you a note or was already awake. I’m quite uncomfortable barging in here like this…” I bit my lip and looked to the floor. 

“Oh, dear, no need to feel flustered. Come, come. Sit down. Would you like a tea or some hot milk?” 

“Coffee would be wonderful, thank you Mrs Potter.” 

“Euphemia, please. And that’s Fleamont.” She smiled another of her ‘you-are-welcome-here-make-yourself-at-home’-smiles and her husband nodded his head with a grin that looked a lot like his son’s. 

“Jette”, I said again before I took a sip of the coffee Mrs Potter had put down in front of me. 

“Merlin, that’s good. Thank you.” 

“Did you say your last name was de Witt?”, Mr Potter asked over the edge of his Daily Prophet. The headline was another disappearance of a muggleborn ministry witch. 

“Yes, sir, I did.” 

“Fleamont”, Mr Potter corrected me with smile. 

“You’re friends with James, right? He talked about you. They all did.” 

“Oh, right”, Mrs Potter remembered, “You went to the Market together.” 

“Yes, we ran into each other there and spent the evening together.” 

“Then you must know that other girl they weren’t shutting up about, Fleamont, help me out!” 

“Melanie? No. Melina? Not either…” 

“Milla?”, I suggested. 

“That’s it. There’s been  lot of talk about her, since Remus and Peter arrived. So, you do know her?” 

“She’s one of my best friends. Remus has a bit of a weakness for her. And she for him.” 

“A bit? He is absolutely enchanted by her. Not that he would ever admit that”, Mrs Potter chirped rolling her eyes. “Teenagers!” 

I laughed and took another sip of my coffee. The kitchen was mainly white, just like the rest of the house and very cosy just like the rest of the house. I had sat down at a little bar next to the free standing stove, Mr Potter sat at around white table with white chairs that had red white patterned cushions on them. The entire kitchens was red and white and looked like a giant picnic basket. It was very homy. 

“Did you say your parents know where you are?”, Mrs Potter asked suddenly looking up from the stove on which she made pancakes together with a houseelf. 

“I did.” 

“I hope they won’t get you before breakfast.” 

“They asked me to tell them when to pick me up. I haven’t yet. And I don’t want to bother you anymore, Mrs Potter – “ 

“Euphemia!” 

“I don’t want to bother you anymore, Euphemia, I’ve already invited myself to stay the night and steal your coffee.” 

“Don’t be such a polite goodie-two-shoes”, James yawned from the door walking in in his pyjamas followed by Black. 

“I invited you to stay the night and she would force that coffee down your throat if you deny it. Morning mummy.” He kissed his mother on the cheek and did the same to his dad who frowned at the state of his son’s hair. To my surprise Black followed Potter hugging Mrs Potter first – “Euphemia, looking delicious as ever”- and then Mr Potter – “Morning Fleamont”, before plummeting down next to me and taking my coffee. 

“Sirius, where are your manners! Is that a busted lip!?!” Mrs Potter’s voice flew several octaves higher with that last question. 

“Firstly, she won’t mind me drinking her coffee. She’s nice. Secondly, this is not a busted lip, it is souvenir of my chivalry. So, please, don’t worry, Phemia.”  

“Chivalry?”, Mr Potter asked from where he sat with Potter. 

Black was just about to tell the story of how he and his friends rescued me from that disastrous midnight-kiss, when Remus and Pettigrew walked in, waving at everybody wishing us a universal good morning. 

Remus took the free stool next to me, while Pettigrew trotted over to the Potter men. Mrs Potter provided Remus and me with new coffee mugs, shooting a look at Black as she did so, and brought some milky earl-grey over to the other boys. 

“Lyndi and I were thinking pancakes and waffles to welcome the new year. Anybody against that?” 

“Mrs… Euphemia, really I could just write my parents to pick me up right away…” 

“Nonesense! You write your parents to come get you around”, she checked the clock on the wall “one o’clock or half past. Something like that. Gives us time to have a good breakfast and to chat a bit. I reckon you can fill me in on Milla a lot better than this lot”, she vaguely gestured at the boys. “They all seem to think I shouldn’t be interested in her. Which makes me very interested.” I laughed and got up to get the owl and the parchment Mr Potter held up. 

“That’s how long your hair is?!”, Pettigrew yelped when I walked past him. 

“Yeah.” 

“That is a lot of hair, de Witt.” 

“Thanks, Pettigrew.” 

I wrote back to my mum, telling her that whoever came to get me was cordially invited by the Potters for a cup of coffee and a snack. 

Before we could get to gossiping about Milla and Remus who was already blushing like a fwooper in his chair at the table, I disclosed that Dad would probably get me with the car and therefore didn’t need the info that the Potters had no floo powder in the house. A fact that got Mrs Potter all flustered. 

“The car? Your father knows how to drive?”, Mr Potter’s eyes widened. For a split second I thought he’d disapprove and tell me to get out of his house but then I saw the child-like expression on his face. 

“Do you think he would let me sit in it? Maybe open up the hood? Most muggle things don’t interest me but cars and airplanes are fascinating.”  

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. Doubt he would be able to explain a whole lot to you though, he doesn’t build the things he just drives them. But if you’re really interested I’m sure that Mr Scribe would love to give you the 101 on cars. He’s a mechanic and has his own garage.” Mr Potter’s eyes went blank. 

“Mr Scribe is Milla’s dad. He lives in Marlowe’s Creek, too. At the moment they’re all on holiday skiing but once they’re back you should pop in his shop.” 

“So, Milla’s dad is a muggle?”, Mrs Potter jumped at the chance to get some more intel on the girl that made Remus blush and to his dismay we talked about her during the entire breakfast. Over the 101st cup of coffee we got to Lily, who Potter loved to discuss and made me praise as if she were a goddess.  

I was still in Remus’ shirt when the doorbell rang and my dad was let into the kitchen by Lyndi the houseelf. I could see the confusion in the boys’ face as they looked at my father. He was a good bit taller than me, had dirty blond curly hair, blue eyes and a laissez-faire attitude in life that was always visible. I looked a lot more like my mum than him. 

“Morning Dad!”, I flew out of my chair and into his arms. “Happy new year.”  

“Morning? That’s rich. Hi, kiddo.”  

“Mrs Potter, this is my dad Willem de Witt.” 

“Euphemia.” 

“Wim.” 

“And that’s Mr Potter, Dad.” 

“Fleamont.” 

“Wim. Pleasure to meet you. And thanks for providing shelter for this one.” He messed up my hair with a stern look. 

“Why did you have to search refuge here and disturb the Potters’ morning instead of just going home with Crick, huh?” 

“I’d say that’s a story for another time, Sir. My name’s James. And de… Jette is not disturbing us in the slightest”, Potter saved me from answering and I was grateful to no extent. How I would explain what happened last night to my parents, was a mindboggling exercise that I was still too worn out for. . “My father wondered whether you would maybe let him see and sit in your car, if you’re here with it. He’s a bit of a fanatic. Oh, and these are Peter, Remus and Sirius.” Dad shook all their hands. 

“All yours”, he asked Mr Potter. But it was Mrs Potter who answered: “Only James.. and Sirius since the summer. You can’t imagine how often I’ve had to tell him to call this place home and not ‘your place’ since he’s moved in.” 

The moment she mentioned his name my head twitched at him. Since the summer? Home? Moved in? Black lived with the Potters? The first thing that came to mind was that one of his parents wasn’t well and they couldn’t take care of their children, but then I remembered that Regulus had bragged about how he would go to Malfoy Manor with his parents for Christmas to have a real pure blood feast. So, the Blacks were okay. 

Black looked back at me, eyes boring in mine, pure terror on his face. 

Regulus was the good son in the eyes of his parents. They thought like he did. Blood purity. Elite. Sirius Black was very outspoken about his views on those subjects. He thought they were rubbish. Ignorant and racist and that every being had the same worth. He was a Gryffindor that stood up for Gryffindor values in a house full of conservative Slytherins. 

“Not the first time I get hit by someone.” 

“Not the first time I get hit by someone.” 

“Not the first time I get hit by someone.” 

“Not the first time I get hit by someone.” 

I didn’t want to believe it but as soon as the idea formed in my head I knew that it was true. I remembered having seen Black with scratches and black eyes, and healing lips and noses before. Usually on the platform or in the first weeks after break. They abused him. They abused him for being a good person and it had gotten so bad that he had to flee from their house. I felt tears welling up in my eyes, quickly looked down at my mug and then at my dad. Black’s terrified eyes were in my peripheral.  

I don’t know how my face looked but it was bad enough to convey to Dad that we should not explore the configuration of the Potter household any further. Remus, Potter and Pettigrew didn’t seem to notice that both, Black and I were absolutely horrified. 

“Huh. So, you’re interested in cars, Fleamont? Obviously, I’m no Andrew Scribe but I could tell you what I know and if that’s not satisfying I could leave you Andy’s phone number… Assuming you have a phone.” 

“We do. Euphemia’s idea. Brilliant as ever. I would love to take a look at the vehicle.”  

“Let’s do it, then. You”, he turned to me, trying to look casual but unable to hide the concern in his eyes, “should probably return that shirt to its rightful owner and get dressed, so we can leave at some point and don’t overstay our welcome.” 

“Impossible!”, Potter beamed from the table but I was pretty sure as far as Black was concerned I had overstayed my welcome by roughly two minutes already. His face was now hard as stone and he didn’t look at me at all.  

I went upstairs and got dressed. Returning Remus’ shirt by hanging it on the doorknob. I pulled my hair in the typical bun and didn’t dare go back downstairs. Is still hadn’t fully processed what Mrs Potter had said. And what it implied. 

[seriestrash]

The Story of Us

PROLOGUE || 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11 || 12 || 13 || 14 ||

✮ Epilogue ✮

Word Count: 2,348

✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮

10 years later…

It had been ten years since Rhiannon and Jedediah remarried. A union that would sadly only get until Christmas that year but their love would last long after both of them passed. It was only a few short weeks later that the Matthews returned to New York with a few hearts broken in the process.

Although her inevitable return to the city happened it wasn’t the last time Riley would twirl her way through Hillford Creek. A few events over the years would draw the brunette back into town, mostly happy reasons but some brought on by sad circumstances. Despite the reason, good or bad, Riley found it harder each and every time it came for her to leave.

Now, nearly four years since her last visit Riley sits on on a near empty bus. Her gaze fixated out the window, a small smile resting on her face as she admires the scenic drive into town. Her nostalgia building with every mile behind her.

Riley trips on the last step off the bus in her true klutzy fashion. Quickly she steadies herself and has a quiet laugh at the same sorry excuse of a bus stop she first arrived at all those years ago. The brunette inhales deeply, with a smile on her face she walks towards the sign that reads;

‘Welcome to Hillford Creek
, Austin Texas’

There’s no question in Riley’s mind about where she wanted to go first. The moment she reaches the outskirts of the main town Riley veers off in the direction of the old inn. The road now free of overgrown foliage and clearly signed, a contrast to the trees and bushes she’d weave through as a teenager.

Riley walks up to what was once an abandoned inn, now a beautifully repaired home. The last time Riley was here there was a sign out front with a newly placed ‘sold’ sticker. In it’s place now stands a sign that reads ‘Hillford Creek Veterinarian Clinic’. With a soft smile, Riley reflects on something that was once quiet chatter on the floor of a burnt out room, now a beautiful reality.

The city born girls thoughts are interrupted when she’s nearly tackled to the ground by an excited dog. 

“Oh Otis,” Riley pats the dog that has two paws pressed up against her stomach. “You remember me don't you, boy?” Riley sratches the German Shepard as he pants excitedly. 

A quiet giggle escapes her, Riley looks up and around to see where the dog came from, to see if he was there. Then, through the glass of the first story bay window Riley finds him. Lucas. The Texan is already staring out at her, his attention spiked when he heard his dog barking. 

Lucas sits there frozen in place, a mixture of awestruck and sheer shock controls him. Riley too stays in place, her hand continuing to lightly scratch Otis’ neck, a smile creeping wider with every second passing under the gaze of Lucas. Finally the brunette raises a hand giving him a gentle wave. The Texans shocked expression cracks with a smile as he mimics her greeting. 

Lucas stands and heads for the front door, Riley moves too, like a magnetic pull bringing them closer. They meet on the front porch, both at a lost for words. 

“Hi.” Lucas exhales loudly, finally breaking the silence.

“Hey.” Riley giggles nervously. A sound Lucas had missed.

“Do you want to come inside?” Lucas sheepishly motions towards the door. 

Riley gives him a small nod and follows close behind as he leads them in. Now over the threshold Riley lets the duffle bag on her shoulder slip off and hit the floor with a gentle thud. 

“Wow.” Riley says letting her eyes dance around the entrance. Riley finds it difficult to believe that this beautifully renovated building was once the eerily abandoned inn she had visited many times in the past. “This place is... Spectacular.” Riley’s eyes fall back upon Lucas’. 

The Texan just bashfully shrugs a shoulder. 

“Is it finished?” Riley questions. 

“Technically, I guess.” Another dismissive shrug of his shoulder. 

“Technically?” Riley raises a brow. 

“It’s just one of those things, ya know?” Lucas lets out an embarrassed laugh. “You build something up in your head then its hard for it to ever live up to the expectations.” 

“You’re not happy?” Riley frowns. 

“No I am.” Lucas shakes his head. “It’s just not... complete. Not yet.” 

“Did you do everything you planned?” Riley asks. “Clearly you added the clinic,” Riley motions to the front desk, “But you live here too?” 

“Yes Ma'am.” Lucas nods. “Would you like the grand tour?” 

“Absolutely.” Riley beams. “But I wanted to give you something first. A very late house warming gift.” 

Lucas watches as Riley crouches by her duffle bag. She stands again with a framed photo in her hand. “I found it when I packing up a few of my grandmas things.” Riley explains. 

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it to the funeral.” Lucas frowns. 

“Don’t worry you have your hands full with the clinic.” Riley gives him a small smile. “I got your flowers.” The death of Rhiannon was still fresh for Riley and ached to think about too much. 

“May I see?” Lucas holds a hand out for the photo. Riley lets out a laugh realising she's still clutching it to her chest. 

“Of course.” She passes the black frame to Lucas and watches as he inspects the photo. 

“Is this...Is this from the day they all met?” Lucas looks up from the photo with knitted brows and a slight smile. 

Riley nods, taking another look at the photograph that could possibly be pinpointed as to what spurred this unannounced visit, one of the reasons at least. A photo of Jed, Rhiannon, Joe and Mae all standing out front of the inn. Each pair had their individual couple photos that Riley saw during her stay in Hillford as a teenager, this photo was from the same moment, just of them all together. “My grandma had told me that she had more photos from this day but I forgot about that until I went through her things.” 

“There’s more?” Lucas asks. 

“Yes. I found a whole album from her whimsical trip around the country as a young adult.” Riley explains. “I brought a couple with me from her very short stay in Hillford... If you wanted to see them.” 

“Of course I want to see them.” Lucas says genuinely and it makes Riley smile to think that all these years have passed and it can still feel like they're two excited teenagers uncovering their intertwined pasts. “How about I show you around the place and then we can sit down, look at the photos and catch up?” 

Riley thinks that sounds wonderful. Lucas starts to give Riley the grand tour. One half of the first story to the left of the stairs is a living and dining area, there’s also a kitchen and main bathroom. To the right of the stairs is the bay window turned little library, they only pass through that to make their way into the clinic section of the home. Riley is amazed at how profession it all looked and she presses Lucas about his business whilst commending his efforts and expressing her wonder in him achieving all he has. Then Riley does something that she hadn't in all the times she visited the inn, she went upstairs. 

Lucas explains how the second story used to consist of six smallish rooms considering it’s a small town and not exactly touristy. Riley finds that he’s renovated to four grand rooms. The main bedroom, Lucas’ room, has an ensuite attachment and there’s also a smaller communal bathroom upstairs too. 

At the end of the hall is the second bay window Lucas had mentioned in the past. One Riley could only see from outside of the building. Riley slowly walks towards it, now leading herself in this tour. Her knees lightly brush the edge of the seat cushion as she gets a good look out the glass. This window overlooks the yard area. Riley didn’t spend much time out the back of the building because of how overgrown the surrounding grass and foliage was but now it’s cleared completely. The old barn that was affected from the fire too has been restored to its full potential. 

All the nostalgia and astonishment building within Riley started to become overwhelming and began to resonate negatively for reasons she couldn’t really explain. 

“Riley, are you alright?” Lucas asks noticing Riley’s deflated mood. 

“Yeah.” Riley says and it feels like a lie. “It’s just- Living in LA these past few years, kinda makes me feel like I’m missing out...” 

Lucas instantly remembers her saying the same thing about coming from New York. “You know, not a lot of people would be disappointed about living in LA.” 

“I’m not a lot of people.” Riley almost snaps but lets out a sigh. “I’m not disappointed, I’m uninspired..” 

“How about we go downstairs?” Lucas nudges his head towards the stairs. 

Riley follows Lucas back down and instinctively Riley goes towards the bay window. Lucas leaves Riley be for a moment whilst he makes his way to the kitchen to fetch them two coffees. 

Now alone Riley takes in her surroundings since they only brushed past this room on the tour. Maybe that was because of the conversations they shared as teens, maybe it was because of the sweet stolen kisses leading up to her departure. Whatever it was, Lucas seemed just as bashful as Riley when they first entered. 

Riley smiles at the bay window seat itself. It had been upgraded again since Lucas first renovated it over ten years ago but still had the same feel it did back then. Riley looks at the shelves of books, this was literally a conversation they had as teenagers come to life. As Riley’s gaze is wandering around the small room she stops when something catches her eye nearly knocking the breath out of her. She steps towards the chest height book shelf but whats captivate her attention is hanging above it. Riley’s eyes remain fixated on the single item framed up on the wall. 

“Oh that.” Lucas laughs nervously as he reentered the room and spotted Riley’s staring. 

“Is that...?” Riley turns to face Lucas, her voice almost a whisper. 

“You told me to keep it forever.” Lucas matches her soft tone. 

Riley turns to take another look at the the item. A single fallen leaf that floated into her lap ten years beforehand, one she passed onto Lucas, now framed and hung in a room that held such dear memories for her. 

Impulsively Riley spins back around and engulfs Lucas in a hug. He’s surprised at first thus making him a little stiff but quickly warms up as he wraps his arms around Riley’s back, still a little awkward as he holds two coffee cups in hand but it still felt nice for them both. 

When the two finally part they sit in the bay window, each with a hot coffee in hand. 

“So what brings you back into town?” Lucas finally asks the question thats been pressing in his mind since he first noticed her through the window. 

“Mabel’s shower is in a few weeks.” Riley sips at her hot beverage. 

“You came three weeks early for that?” Lucas questions. 

“Well that’s not the only reason I came back.” Riley laughs nervously. 

“No?” Lucas asks. 

“My publisher has been pressing me about a new book.” Riley explains.

“I’m not surprised.” Lucas says. “You’ve released two best sellers for them already.” 

Riley smiles that Lucas has kept up to date with her life even though their contact tapered off significantly after they parted ways last time. “I released a sequel to the first book because they asked but making it a trilogy just doesn’t feel right.” 

“You have to stay true to yourself and produce something you’re happy with.” Lucas says. 

“It took me a little while to come to that realisation myself but I did.” Riley says proudly. “Inspiration sparked in unsuspecting time. So I told my publishers that I would write them another book but only one that meant something to me.” 

“They were okay with that?” Lucas questions. 

“They were a bit shocked with my outburst but they were alright with it in the end.” Riley nods. “I tried to write in LA and even though I knew exactly what I wanted to write I was just uninspired where I was, so I told my agency that I wanted some time away to write this book.” 

“So you came here?” Lucas asks. 

“I couldn’t draw inspiration of a tiny town living in LA now could I?” Riley asks coyly. 

“I’m intruiged.” Lucas matches her playfull demeanour. “Do I get to know more about this story?” 

“There’s three stories actually,” Riley clarifies, “They’re all intwined into one. There’s a love story about about a foreign ballerina and a lowly stable boy.” 

Lucas sucks back a breath but doesn’t interrupt. 

“And another about a man who moves two thousand miles away from home to feel closer to the woman he let go.” Riley continues. “A story of how they met and how they found their way back to each other.” 

“And the third story?” Lucas’ voice wavers. 

“The story of two teenagers uncovering these two stories and finding out how they were connected before they were even born.” Riley says with a small smile. 

“Are there happy endings all round?” Lucas swallows hard. 

“I’m still trying to determine is that’s possible.” Riley chews on her bottom lip. “What do you think?”

“Sounds inevitable to me.” Lucas says, a crooked smile plastered on his face. 

Riley lets out a breath she was holding in. “Yeah?” 

“Sounds, epic.” Lucas says still smiling. “Does this story have a title yet?” 

Riley nods, bites down on her bottom lip and delivers her words with a hopeful smile. “The Story of Us.” 

End Notes: IMPORTANT. 

There is ONE more part coming after this. A bonus chapter titled ‘The Missing Years’ which I will give you key information about important events of ALL characters in the past ten years. 

This story is almost over and as always, it’s been a pleasure my loves !! :)