#its kinda brushed over but like his entire family is just dead. just straight up. and now hes stuck with these ppl | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

creativeashproductions · 4 years ago

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Elysium // Luke Patterson

Summary: The boys of Julie and the Phantoms need a hail Mary to dethrone Downslide from opening for Panic! At the Disco. While Willie is done to help his blue eyed crush and his friends there’s one issue: Willie can’t drive the bus. Moving a bench is one thing but driving an entire tour bus? There’s only one person who can and Willie’s not sure where she is after year of no communication

Warnings: Swearing, angst, talk of death (it’s a ghost show, why is this a warning??), mention of assault, violence, and fluff.

Words: 11.5k

A/N: This is why I haven’t posted much in the last week. I’ve been writing this massive fic that I refused to turn into a series. My god, 11k words. I don’t think I’ll be doing this again. Enjoy and comment if you figured out who Rudy is!

Masterlist

There wasn’t much in the afterlife that you enjoyed after time spent in the limbo between the living and dead. Listening to songs before they were released lost its appeal just as much as dancing on stage with the ballet companies around the world, of being an unseen extra in shows and films being filmed.

Then you found a purpose a couple, well it could be more than a couple, years ago when you found a lost soul. William Young, Willie to his friends, had been sitting on the curb staring at the pavement entirely still as he had for two days.

The time from the last breath you took to walking the streets of Los Angeles was a blur in all honesty. The years bled together as you stayed stationary in a world that kept on spinning and changing, growing up. You had watched your friends hit new milestones you could only daydream about. Friends that graduated college and built new lives on the ashes of memories that included you.

Today’s walk was an attempt to escape your friends’ greying versions standing in front of a once vibrant sculpture. It happened every single year, but this one hurt the most. Listening to your friends recall stories of all the adventures you did together.

From being drunken idiots jumping off cliffs into that one lake the summer of freshman year. Or making a bonfire on the school’s roof with all the entryways blocked, rather stupid with the exits being blocked as well. Sneaking into concerts and stealing that one car that came close to sending you to boarding school.

The rebellion that still lived in you had mellowed in the five individuals with the adult responsibilities of family and work. Martha had removed all piercings but her lobes while Chase quit dying his hair colour. Jordan now had three children and a bought house.

Seeing the group no longer young had made your feet swiftly move from the memorial for a walk. The only thing that stopped you in your tracks was tripping over something in front of you.

“Ouch.” You hissed rolling onto your back with a moan of pain that faded with the sniffles.

Curled into his knees, sitting on the curb was a teenage boy about your age. Long hair curtaining his profile you found your eyes grasping the cracked helmet that spoke for itself abandoned by his side.

“Your kinda a hazard there.” You simply spoke sitting down next to the distraught teenager, “Heads up, I suck at comforting people.”

At his silence, you spoke once more, “I’m digging the tie-dye. Did you do it yourself?”

“This is some kind of stupid coma dream right?” The boy’s voice was husky from crying and disuse, “I’m probably in some kind of hospital with a tube down my throat.”

“I’d say yes, but it would be a blatant lie.” You spoke twirling a loose thread on your jeans while the stranger gazed at a spot on the street.

His dark brown eyes bloodshot as he remembered the car honking mere seconds before he heard the sound of a thud. He recalled struggling to breathe with his broken ribs and his screams being illustrated with bloodstains.

He remembered thinking how he had just bought that board a week ago with his allowance.

“Am I really dead?”

“Yes. We’re are a couple ghosts in a lively city.” You informed him with one handheld in the space between your ethereal forms. The teen hesitantly placed his hand in yours with a firm shake.

“William but call me Willie.” He softly told you, catching sight of the patch on your jean jacket—one of many from both when your grandma owned it and then when you did.

“I’m Y/N. Let’s blow this disappointment. I’m gonna teach you everything you need to know.” Brushing off the invisible dust on your jeans, you held your hand out to him, “We’re about to make the afterlife our bitch.”

A stark contrast to his former hesitance he immediately grasped your hand to tug himself off the curb. The forlorn skater didn’t question the board in your hand or how he could possibly even touch his own board. He didn’t wonder how it wasn’t in pieces like it had been when he first got hit.

That rebellion that ended your life flared again in the presence of your best friend with crashing Justin Bieber’s house. Of rearranging items in classrooms to freak teachers out and sitting in the cars turning the radio on and off. Haunting the living until the friendship fractured under the influence of a powerful ghost.

Caleb Covington had bewitched the skater with promises and extravagant gifts until Willie had taken the offer.

“He’s not like you said he was! I think you should give him a chance!” Willie cried following you around the place you had taken to be home.

“Willie he’s a bad guy! He butters you up until you give him what you want! That’s when you see his true colours. All he wants is your soul to power his magic and spread his reach!”

“I got to talk to my sister!”

“Your sister is five years old! It’s not Covington that gave you the opportunity. She won’t remember the experience as anything other than an invisible friend!”

“There are so many people at the Club that we can talk to. Aren’t you tired of the same routine and people we see?”

Willie’s pleading brought your full attention to the skater avoiding your gaze, “William Young…you took his offer.”

Willie tore his gaze from the art on the wall to find yours blatantly glaring at him with a bucket of random colour in your hand.

“The Club is going to France to tour around the country for a while. I’m dead, so I might as well make the best of it. Besides who gets to skate through the Louvre!” Willie beamed, watching as a small smile, found its way on your face at his excitement, “I’m sure Caleb would let you come to the Club tonight!”

“Willie, you are my best friend, but I’ve already seen the Club. It’s not my style, and I want nothing to do with it.”

That interaction was one of the very few speckled through the years when Caleb discovered who you were. No matter his offers, you never took the deal and when he saw how close you and Willie where he kept the skater busy. The Club didn’t appear in Los Angeles for a long time until Willie’s distance seemed too great to bridge.

“So, you need a way for the slot to be empty?” Willie asked the trio of ghosts all spread around the area.

Unfortunately for Luke, the only person they could get help from was from the very guy that placed them in a predicament. While Alex was the one spearheading the conversation with the long-haired skater Luke was glowering in his direction.

“The Orpheum was the thing we never got to do. We spent hours practising and performing with one goal-“

“Play the Orpheum and get distance from our parents. Well, at the time that streetdog and becoming legendary was my main focus.” Reggie recounted the feeling of suffocating in a house filled with fighting. A home he wished still stood, now dead all he wanted was to see his parents.

“We almost did it too.” Luke pouted relaxing his glare at the skater who openly sent apologetic gazes at Alex’s bandmates.

“So, we need to get rid of the opening band.” Willie nodded to himself, thinking about ways before he caught sight of the abject horror on the band. The skater’s eyebrows raised, “I know I deeply fractured the trust, but I’m not suggesting murder.”

“Okay. Good.” Reggie whistled relaxing his tense posture while Luke grumbled under his breath an insult that in turn got Alex’s arm into the guitarist’s ribs.

“Your best bet would be getting the bus out of LA. The band will probably celebrate the upcoming gig.”

“Could you make the bus disappear?” Alex hesitantly questioned shifting in his now vintage sneakers. The blonde-haired drummer flushed slightly under the endearing smile from the skater. The feelings create a confliction within Alex under Willie’s issue, leading them straight into a madman’s hands.

“I can move a bench, turn sirens on, but a bus is outside my paygrade.” Willie openly admitted showing his hands deep in his pockets, “The only person other than Caleb that has enough power-“

“-is he just as evil?” Luke demanded crossing his arms to glare at the male that had unfortunately caught the interest of Alex.

However, Luke couldn’t blame Alex for falling for this guy because well, Luke saw the teenage ghost’s appeal. Willie was attractive, but he wasn’t the type of person Luke would fall for. Plus he had initially made Alex incredibly happy, and Luke would never blame Alex for that.

“She is as different from Caleb as one can be. She uh…she taught me everything about being a ghost. Actually, found me where I died.” Willie cleared his throat as the guilt and sadness reared its head from deep within him. The guilt of leaving his little sister to grow up without him and the sorrow of not growing up with the girl.

It wasn’t often Willie allowed himself to remember the little girl, barely five when he died, who was always dancing. His little sister adored the colour purple and anything shiny and more than once Willie had let her dress him up. Willie’s greatest regret is that he’d never have that interaction with her. God, she’d be around his age now and in high school.

“Okay, so where is she?” Reggie clapped his hands, bringing the skater out of his thoughts and back into the present.

Luke saw the hesitation in Willie, “There’s a catch, isn’t there?”

“Kinda?” Willie trailed off bouncing on the balls of his feet, “I haven’t seen her in years now. Last time I saw her we fought about the whole joining Caleb thing? I’m not even sure if she’s still in LA.”

“Of fucking course,” Luke grunted shoving both hands in his hair taking a few steps away from the other ghosts.

First, he dies, then he gets caught up in some bullshit revenge plot, then makes a deal with the devil without realizing it, and now their one chance is going up in flames. Luke Patterson was livid with the universe and the shitty hand he had been dealt, but at least he had his friends with him.

“It can’t hurt to look for her?” Reggie innocently offered with a shake of his shoulders, “It’s not like we have any other option.”

“Did we ever even have options?” Luke hissed, causing Willie and Alex each to flinch with the different guilt they carried.

Alex was guilty of going to Willie for help when getting back at Bobby was the biggest thing. Willie was guilty of ignoring his instincts on keeping Alex as far from Caleb as he could be he just wanted to impress the drummer. It’s not like Willie had many options for dating, and well, Alex was the first to get his entire focus.

“Dude. Stop. No one saw it coming.” Reggie bumped his hip against the annoyed guitarist, “Let’s find this ghost and get our shot at playing.”

The quartet of dead guys didn’t have high hopes of finding the girl in question, but it seemed the universe took pity on Luke Patterson. Just two hours into their search on the edges of the city limits an individual was walking.

The person’s stature leaned against a smashed concrete wall of the skeleton of where a building once was. The only thing the group could make out was a faded jean jacket with splotches of colour. Her ankles crossed as her back leaned against the cement, oozed laid back confidence. Coming closer, Luke noticed the sunglasses perched on top of her head and the lips painted dark.

“What do you need Willie? I heard you were looking for me.” The husky voice drew Luke in the most. The lead guitarist of Julie and the Phantoms enamoured with the girl.

“How’d-“Willie’s question was cut off as you simply tapped your right index finger against your temple.

“How do you think you managed to get here?” You inquired pushing off the cement to stride over to the group. To Willie’s surprise, he was tugged into your embrace before swiftly pushed away, “Come on. We should head in before someone catches us.”

In the dark as much as the other three ghosts, Willie dutifully followed you past the pieces of cement littered around the area. Gasps of surprise sounded as the once empty space became filled with buildings. It was not as extravagant as the hotel the Club worked out of, but it was hidden from the living and dead eyes.

“Where did this come from?” Reggie gasped astounded by the people once hidden from his view, moving around the area.

“This is Elysium. Don’t judge the name I lost the right in a poker game with Susie and Rudy. I’m Y/N.” You informed the group leading them to the gate where two people stood stoically guarding it, “Rudy was hellbent on calling it Valhalla.”

“This is Luke, Reggie and Alex.” Willie gestured to the awed trio of musicians only lingering on the blonde. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see the attraction between the skater and the blonde; finding a date in the afterlife was a lot harder than the living.

Nodding a greeting to the two ghosts, you lead the group to a building painted a pretty turquoise blue colour. The sign above the double doors a stark white with calligraphy writing simply stating Elysium Management. It was a building set up like an administrative office of three stories, and you led the group right up to the top floor.

“Just a heads up…Rudy is a little suspicious of people.” You admitted standing outside a door with a nameplate the only descriptor, “He’ll come off a little gruff and rude, but when you get passed that he doesn’t shut up.”

“I can hear you through the door dumbass.” The words were called out from the office door opening.

The man standing in the entry wore a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His honey-brown eyes lit up with a teasing look before it shuttered at the sight of four strangers behind you. Rudy had valid reasons to not fully trust people after the shitshow in his hometown when he was alive.

“And you’ve brought strangers.” Rudy deadpanned with a sigh concluding his sentence as he stepped back into the office. It appeared like the world repositioned itself on the young man’s shoulders once more.

“I should be done within the hour. We can go over everything.” You informed your business partner and friend. Receiving only a nod from Rudy, you closed the door to his office, cutting off the view from your guests.

“He’s..uh.”

“Standoffish? Rudy keeps his past to himself, all he’s ever revealed is that he’s from a town a few hours away.” You spoke, opening the door to your own office decorated differently from Rudy’s more sterile black and white aesthetic.

Your office had splashes of colour with vintage posters of both music and film framed on the walls—a plush couch in the corner with a basket of blankets next to it. Instead of sitting behind the dark desk, you chose the couch instead. As you settled in the corner, you flicked one finger bringing an extra seat over.

The motion shocking the three boys accompanying Willie who had seen the abilities himself.

“Okay so why did you want to search for me?” You questioned the skater leaning back in the seat.

“When did this all happen?” Willie countered gesturing to the office in a building settled in the middle of a ghost town. A literal ghost town.

“There’s an empty lot in LA that used to house an abandoned apartment building that Rudy and I both called home. Of course, it was torn down, and we kinda knew that there’s wasn’t a place that didn’t have the threat of being annihilated at some point.” The memories of those unknown days trickled into your mind among the more positive ones, “We wanted a home. A place to call our own.”

“A week or so later a skittish pixie of a brunette crashed into us full speed. Susie had a certain ability that Caleb desired to have under his thumb. There are so many ghosts he had manipulated into selling him their soul. Rudy and I both wanted to stop Caleb from having that chance for everyone.” You continued, “Can I show you?”

The moon shone through the light clouds as a duo wandered LA’s streets in different mental states. The only home you had known had been unceremoniously ripped down with no future plans in place. Your entire life had been in that apartment in a building you had once thought only you inhabited. You had been unaware that on a separate floor, Rudy had been dwelling.

The two teens in starkly different clothing grew close with each other through the whole being the dead thing they shared. The mission was to find another place too, use but the feeling of home being ripped away tore at their hearts. The apartment was a place Caleb Covington hadn’t been aware of.

Your thoughts threatened to turn darker as a force knocked you onto your bac—aA short brunette groaning in pain to the left of you. The girl was Gwen, who would become very important to both Rudy and you.

I’ve always been a little different than most people. I can move things short distances, but I developed a specific talent. I can get inside people’s minds to plant, remove or alter memories or simply talk and read their thoughts.

The sound of your voice in their heads freaked them out more than they would like to admit. The intrusive tickle of something in their brains unsettling as you made a more present entry so they could feel it.

“What?”

“This is why I can’t be anywhere near Caleb. The whole reason he gives people stamps and takes their souls is because of me.” You fully admitted clasping your fingers in your lap, “He couldn’t cope with the fear of another ghost leaving so added a stipulation to joining his Club.”

“How did you come to create Elysium?” Alex inquired leaning forward in his seat to rest his elbows on his knees. Luke and Reggie followed his posture as the anticipation built.

“Everyone deserves a safe place. A place as far away from Caleb as possible and we do so for free. No fee is required, and ghosts are free to come and go as they please. They are welcome as long as their unfinished business keeps them in this plane.”

It sounded like a sweet deal to the group of teens, but they had other commitments, “You can tell us more, but we need your help.”

The pleading in the messy-haired brunette tore at your heartstrings like the one time Willie brought you to his house. It had been shortly before your friendship fractured, a few years ago. He had brought you to a suburb for low-income families and straight to the backyard where a twelve-year-old year danced.

The dead skater boy and the rebel sat in the patio chair on the tiny porch nestled in the postmark sized backyard. A quintet of pre-pubescent girls danced on the lawn to some bubblegum pop song. The Young girl was submissive to a more confident girl even when the venue was the Young girl’s home.

“The girl to the left is my little sister Kayla. She’s twelve now, it’s been seven years since I died.” Willie’s brown eyes saddened at the dancer who had a spark of maturity in her eyes, “I check in every once in a while. These are Kayla’s friends. The bossy girl is Carrie, and while the band is a group, she is the unofficial leader of the band Carrie’s Constellations.”

“She looks happy.”

“Kayla’s always been bubbly in personality, but she had questionable friends.” Willie outright admitted keeping his eyes pinned to the girl that had grown up in a blink of an eye. Her dark hair concealed by the gaudy purple wig; the colour assigned to the teenager.

“It’s nice that she still enjoys dance.” Willie finished reaching out to grab your hand in his and just like that Willie transitioned back into carefree, “I found this really cool skatepark I think you’d like.”

“We don’t have a lot of time.” Alex winced as the three musicians flinched as a sudden purple spark of colour lit up their midsections.

Like a tentacle, your mind reached into the quiet raven-haired boy with the leather jacket. Beyond the imagery of docile golden retrievers and steaming plates of food, you found the regret and fear in the boy. Stepping into a recent memory, you watched their experience at the Hollywood Ghost Club.

“You’ve met Caleb.” You sighed roughly pushing your index finger between your brows feeling the familiar ache.

“It was a stupid decision,” Luke spoke up, tearing his focus from the mysterious girl that ultimately had the power in her hands. The entire plan was weighing on the decision you would give, “Either we join his house band, or we don’t exist.”

“Hm.” You spoke as the kaleidoscope of colours in Luke’s eyes glittered under the sterile lights of the room. It was difficult to look away from the enthralling teenage ghost, but the emotion wafting off Willie was concerning.

“They died before they could perform at the Orpheum. We’re banking that getting the opening slot with giving them the push into crossing over.” The long-haired skater leaned closer, “I know we haven’t talked in a while, but I can’t do much.”

“So, you want to pull ’09 incident again?” You completely ignored the trio on the couch staring directly at the sheepish skater with raised eyebrows, “Only this time without the train?”

“Train?” Alex whispered, looking between the two long-time friends with interest and then next thing he knew Alex was in the backseat of a van crushed between Reggie and Luke equally confused.

Chicago, Illinois 2009

William Young and Y/N Y/L/N were complete hellions in the ghost world, creating havoc that fascinated the living population. The recent event being the highjacking of a van filled with drunk teenage boys. These boys had been the sole reason a young girl was recovering in a hospital with life-threatening injuries. The scene changed to a hospital room with Willie and Y/N watching a girl with massive bruising laid.

It had hit both Willie and Y/N hard catching the tail end of the new report, Willie thinking of how that could have been his sister. Even if Kayla was only five years old, having a sister set things more in perspective. For you it was a flashback to when you were alive and thus led you to the ICU room for the girl.

Slipping into her unconscious mind was easy but while the injured teen appeared peaceful to the hospital staff, she was anything but. The poor girl’s mind replayed the traumatic incident over and over like a movie; keeping in the shadows, you gently repainted the portrait with lighter and brighter images.

For Willie, he watched as you wavered on your ghostly feet and smoothed out the features of the girl. The heart monitor subtly changing as the injured girl relaxed, and suddenly your interference heightened her chances of survival.

“I got it.” You spoke to Willie with a heated glare on your features and when the ghostly musician trio blinked they were back in the van.

Your hands gripped the van’s steering wheel with Willie turned in the passenger seat to watch a group of living boys scream. To the living eyes in the van, no one was in the front seats but whispered words spoke into their minds.

You’re going to go straight to the police and tell them what you did. You’ll hand over the photographic evidence and demand the worst punishment. You’ll leave the girl alone, or we’ll come back to finish our job. You will pay for the hospital bills if the family agrees.

The boys trembled with the putrid scent of urine permeating the enclosed vehicle. The distant sound of a train echoed in the distance as the van stopped on the tracks. No matter how much the living boys moved the doors refused to open, and the windows remained unbreakable.

“WE promise!” The ringleader cried, slamming his shoulder against the door with the train’s bright lights illuminating the van.

“Let us go!” The other screamed, slamming his bruising hands on the window.

Alex was flinching at each slam of fists on the glass, leaving smears of blood. Knuckles broke from the window. At the very last second, your foot slammed the gas pedal taking the van millimetres from the train screeching on the tracks.

You and Willie stared at the stationary train lit up from the van’s headlights with the rhythmic flashes of the red and blue police lights. The van’s seat arrangement was different with the ringleader in the driver’s seat.

The three ghost musicians standing unseen behind the duo but in the real world out of the dreamlike memory you knew.

Elysium, Present Day

“Holy fucking shit.” Alex cussed out of breath, leaning back on the couch with shaking limbs and fear in his bloodless veins.

Luke’s eyes blinked owlishly at the boy that he had once thought could never do something as terrifying and torturous. He was afraid to even ask the outcome of the life-threatening incident you did on the assailants.

“That is the reason for the train.” You barely glanced at the shaken trio to stare at who had once been your partner in crime, “Willie, I have responsibilities here. We just opened a new division for the children we house here.”

“It would take a few hours.” Willie pleaded, positioning his hands into a pleading position turning on his charm. The puppy eyes you had always struggled to say no to as if you weren’t the type of person easily capable of staying strong.

“We’ll do anything.” Luke pleaded just as much recalling the countless times he had charmed himself out of situations, “Please help us.”

“I’ll have to make arrangements with Rudy and Susie, but I might be able to pull some strings. I’m really sorry Willie, but I’m gonna need to erase your knowledge of this place. There are too many people depending on this setup.”

Outside the Orpheum

Outside the legendary venue, three out of four band members for Julie and the Phantoms walked up to the marquee. Hopefully, the letters for Downslide would be changed into their band name just under the main act. Everything was riding on Willie and Y/N’s capabilities. Trusting the skater was challenging to do and more so someone they didn’t fully know.

“Look, don’t worry, guys. Willie said he’d get us on that marquee.” Alex soothed his friends on each side of him. All three wearing concerned expressions at the place that hopefully was their last stop before crossing over.

“This is gonna work, right?” Reggie questioned with his hand confidently sliding into the pockets of his black jeans. The relaxed posture a juxtaposition to the anxiety and nerves on his flushed face.

“It has to.” Luke’s lips pursed into a pout with his words tinged with a dialect different from his best friends. The faint souvenir from the place he spent a few years growing up before moving to LA.

Luke’s words were highlighted by the groans of pain as that flash of purple courtesy of Caleb’s death stamp appeared. All three hunched over clutched their chests breathing through the pain; Luke was the first to unfurl his form.

“Whoa!” You gasped flashing underneath the marquee beside Willie. Rushing to give Luke support without even a second thought.

When the aftershock faded, the guitarist stood straight up with a thankful smile that boarded on adoration.

“Are you guys, okay?” Willie asked, keeping back with the swell of guilt that happened, seeing the familiar symptoms of post-shock. He had felt them a time or two in the time he had sold his soul to his unfortunate boss.

“Yeah, it’s nothing we haven’t felt before,” Alex replied, rubbing his hand over the baby blue shirt he had chosen today. His blue eyes doing their best to avoid looking into the puppy-like ones of the skater, “How’d it go?”

“Well, when that opening band wakes up, they’re gonna find their bus 200 miles outside of Vegas.” Willie proudly announcing turning on his heel to show off the Downslide jacket he took from the lead singer. His fist extending to bump yours instinctively before he did so with Luke.

“With no chance of getting back in time.” You snickered in response living on the adrenaline and nostalgia of the rebellion. With Elysium, you had turned around your life, “Meaning-“

“-there’s probably a promoter upstairs right about now freakin’ out.”

“Nah. This is Hollywood, man.” Willie scoffed with a wave of his hand matching the one you supplied, “I’m sure he’s being very professional.”

As Willie finished his sentence up in the promotor’s office out of earshot of the ghosts stood a very pissed adult. His finger-wagging his finger with teeth clenched, his flushed skin a juxtaposition to the cheery blue Hawaiian style shirt. Frank Wolfe couldn’t believe how stupid his once opening band was.

“What do you mean the bus drove itself into the middle of the desert?” Frank questioned progressively growing more and more frustrated. His assistant Tasha casting concerned looks to her typically collected boss, “BUSES DON’T DRIVE THEMSELVES!”

Tasha flinched at the sudden loud growl of the sentence but more so as Wolfe starting slamming the phone into the cradle. Her fingers halting on her keyboard, going over the list of frequent acts. Unfortunately, the five acts had other commitments causing Tasha to fear tonight. The blonde lady was worried Wolfe could have a breakdown once more.

While Willie snickered to his own words, your eyes, not your mind, could read that Alex wanted to talk to the skater. With only a teasing jab of your elbow in Willie’s ribs you shuffled around the drummer to join Reggie and Luke away from the ‘will they won’t they’ couple.

“So, can you do me a favour?” Luke hesitantly questioned you with his inquisitive eyes a greener colour in the sunlight. His attractive eyes took your full attention with a simple tilt of your head, “Julie’s family means a lot to us, and could you keep an eye on them?”

“And Carlos,” Reggie interjected rocking on his polished pleather boots he had spent ages on finding for his rocker aesthetic back in the ’90s.

“-Julie’s little brother.” Luke supplied at the confusion painted clearly on your pretty features. His green eyes scoured your face as he always did that flushed both his and your faces red.

“Yeah, of course, I can.” You firmly told the two dead boys each standing tense in front of you.

You could easily see the love they held for the living family that had come to mean so much in such a short amount of time. Since first meeting them you had always gotten the feeling that their living years weren’t the best. For Alex, it was living in the ’90s as a young gay teenager during a terrifying time for the LGBTQ+ community. Reggie flinched at the raised voices, and Luke had longingly stared after the happy families milling around the Elysium.

“Did you ever find out what your unfinished business was?” Reggie inquired fixing a strand of his dark hair that had fallen onto his blemish-free skin. Your smile faltered at his question; nonetheless, you answered.

“I did.” The two words carried a sense of pain with them. Your eyes unfocused recalling the euphoric feeling of seeing the breathtaking white light of the peace exuding from the beyond and the agony of denying crossing over.

“How-“

“Hey! Y/N!” Willie called out to the young denim wearing ghost with his beaming grin, “Don’t go stealing buses without me!”

Luke swore he could see your laughter in the air, just as endearing as the smoky quality your voice carried.

“Don’t go glitter bombing criminals.” You returned as your best friend dropped his board to skate off to wherever he was needed. It was bittersweet to reconnect with him knowing that it could be the last time.

When Caleb found out, not an if but a when Willie had a hand in helping his desired band it was high chance Willie would be gone. Caleb was all too powerful, and when he was betrayed, it never ended well.

“I need to get back to Elysium. Susie’s arrival is tonight. Good luck with tonight.” Your words were accompanied by a hug for each of the boys. The one with Luke lingering the most, “I wish you could play for the kids.”

“Yeah. Me too.” The brunette, messy-haired boy’s words carried a hidden desire simply to be in your space more. The teenage ghost helps those in limbo while wearing a jean jacket with patches from many decades. The jacket creating an unknown time you had lived.

“Goodbye, boys.” You told the trio before you poofed away from the busy streets of Hollywood where the band had come full circle in death.

“Are you guys, okay?” Reggie inquired his best friends, forgoing his casual personality for the layers underneath. His blue-green eyes filled with only concern.

Alex and Luke shared a lingering look, “Yeah. We’re okay.”

The dining hall was filled with long tables and chairs populated by the ghostly forms of everyone currently living at Elysium. It was reminiscent of a British book turned film series of youth with magic abilities. The series had been a favourite of a former resident.

“Incredible.” Susie breathed staring at the joyful people having a place to call home. Making the limbo between life and death more bearable.

“We’ve done well. You smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist, “It’s so nice to have you back.”

Elysium was so much more than you could ever hope for. It kept growing and growing with more ghosts. Since the founding of the haven, new developments continuously happened with one resident’s unique ability.

Harvey had joined the haven a year into the founding bringing the ability to gift the residents with the capacity to eat. During his life, Harvey had been a renowned chef and the dream to make food it carried into his death. As long as Harvey cooked the food with his volunteer staff ghosts were able to eat it.

“Harvey has outdone himself again,” Rudy announced his arrival at your side with his arms crossed, displaying his corded muscles. The constellation of moles on his face standing on his pale creamy skin.

“Rudy!” Susie squealed, throwing herself into his arms with the same glee that came each time. Susie and Rudy since their first meeting had a special bond as chosen siblings who bonded over heartache.

Rudy had died, leaving his best friend and his strawberry blonde girlfriend in the living world back in their dark hometown. It was just one tidbit he had revealed throughout your friendship. The only physical connection to his living friends was the three picture on his desk of a group of people.

The first picture had a lean version of Rudy with his arms thrown over a Hispanic boy with a crooked jaw and glimmering brown eyes. The Hispanic boy had his arm around a pretty brunette girl with deep dimples and wavy brown hair. The two boys wore a sports uniform of some kind holding lacrosse sticks.

The second picture had Rudy and the Hispanic teen again but with a beautiful petite strawberry blonde. Along with them was a brunette with blunt chin-length hair and hardened features besides a shorter blonde male with blue eyes.

The last picture was of Rudy with the same Hispanic boy wearing graduation caps and gowns with two beaming adults. The male adult wore a tan shirt adorned with a star on his left pec and dark brown pants. He had to be Rudy’s father with similar features. The woman was of Hispanic descent with laugh lines, and thick dark curly hair pulled into a half do; obviously the Hispanic teen’s mother.

The pain in Rudy’s face each time he saw the pictures closed off a desire to ask him about the people.

“Hello, Susie.” Rudy chuckled, wrapping his arms around her small stature, “How was Europe?”

“Why don’t you ask the five newcomers I found before Caleb?” Susie teased gesturing to the ragtag of new ghosts immersed in conversations.

“Family?”

“A boarding school had a fire. Those five were in the fire when it happened and the only victims out of seven that didn’t cross over.” Susie’s tone faded into a melancholy tone with her small arms wrapping around her middle. Faded brown eyes staring at the younger of the five seeing herself in them.

“That’s terrible.” You whispered, staring at the table with one finger picking the patch of a band from the ’70s, “I can’t imagine how scary that could have been.”

“Yeah.” Susie softly spoke, pushing a strand of her hair off her temple just as equally sad for the way that death had no qualms of how it took.

The youngest ghost in Elysium had been a three-year-old toddler who passed over quickly when he was found by the deceased mother. The two had been separated at death and luckily shared the same unfinished business of finding each other.

“Miss Reynold’s has twelve spirits that finished their business.” Rudy softly informed his two partners. Soft smiles formed on their faces at the happy news of Elysium’s goal being accomplished again.

“May they find everlasting peace and serenity.” Your words intertwined with Susie in perfect sync of the motto coined after the first crossover, “I suppose the Serenity will begin planning?”

“Have the Serenity ever not performed their duty?” Rudy raised one dark eyebrow with a rhetorical question. E/c and faded brown met recalling the countless times Elysium had hosted a celebration for those who found their unfinished business.

“That is-whoa.” You gasped stumbling at the scream echoing in your mind accessorized with the vintage sound of a band.

Calloused hands grasped your shaking form from collapsing onto the ground from a proverbial psionic shove. Agony slammed your brain flickering into an old fashioned club filled with people in both colour or black and white attire. You caught sight of baby pink, deep royal blue and bright red suits. The pained screams of a skater in a dark room overtaking the music in the Club.

“No.” You whispered clenching your hands on your head, feeling the dread building in the pit of your stomach.

The joyful voices in the hall muted while your body flickered with the deep instinct to leave the haven for the one place that utterly terrified you. It was the familiar touch of Susie and Rudy that kept you from finding the one person that meant the world. Willie’s soul was on the cutting board, and Caleb obsession with performing was the only reason Willie still existed.

“Willie.” You whimpered tears rolling down your flushed cheeks, feeling the panic in the skater’s mind.

“Susie help me.” Rudy stonily spoke ushering the distraught girl from the busy hall into an empty room.

Your shaking body finding purchase on the plush sofa with Susie holding one hand in hers and Rudy brushing the sweaty hair from your forehead. It wasn’t often your psionic abilities left you in such a state, but the distance proved difficult.

“Shit.” Rudy grumbled frowning, “This is bad. Y/N, we need to get you to Willie. You’re flickering, and the distance isn’t helping.”

“You want to take one of Elysium’s strongest ghosts straight into Caleb’s domain? You know how much he wants her in his Club.” Susie hissed to the co-founder of the haven they had to take extraordinary measures to protect, “It won’t work! You’re throwing her to the dogs!”

“Susanne I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t necessary. Besides, we always have a plan.” Rudy retorted narrowing his whiskey eyes at the younger girl, “I’ll take her to get Willie, but you need to stay here to make sure everything runs smooth.”

“Are you sure you can-“Susie cut herself off with a nod as Rudy displayed the reason he could do it, “Okay, yep, you can do it.”

Rudy came back into her vision in his signature position with one eyebrow raised, and his arms crossed. The reason why Elysium worked so well was Rudy’s ability to erase an object from the view of anyone. He could make himself invisible to anyone and in practice, developed it to hide items and location. With his ability, Elysium was permanently hidden to anyone outside of his power. Illusions were his unique ability.

“You aren’t the first person to doubt my capability.” Rudy informed the other ghost reaching one hand out. With his fingers caressing your temple, he snapped his fingers, transporting you and him away from Elysium.

The empty room of Elysium’s dining hall was exchanged for the business streets of Los Angeles, bringing an improvement in your body. Pushing away from Rudy, your eyes frantically scoured the unfamiliar area for any hint of Willie.

“He’s close.” You exclaimed closing your e/c eyes to focus solely on your sixth sense kicking in. Rudy’s gasp snapped your eyes open to see his eyes pinned on your feet where a glowing neon purple smoke wisped.

“What is that?” Rudy demanded crouching to touch it, but it was like nothing was there. His whiskey brown eyes meeting your confused gaze.

“I have no clue, but I feel like I have to follow it.” Robotically your feet started walking following the smoke through the streets.

Rudy was silent as you came upon a park swallowed by the darkness of the night with the moon barely showing through the clouds. The odd purple smoke the only offering of light so far from the path with street lights.

“Of course we have to go through a park.” Rudy grumbled, “Nothing good ever happens in wooded areas at night.”

Lifting your eyes from the smoke, you looked at a deeply unsettled Rudy lost in the past only he knew. His mind recalling traipsing through the forest with his asthmatic best friend in the middle of the night. The last night before the unknown took over his life. Oddly enough dying and returning as a ghost was the most normal with everything that happened with his friends alive.

“You can go ba-“

“We’re not splitting up,” Rudy growled plainly scowling at your hesitant features. Rudy’s slammed the door closed on his past life.

Sensing unease Rudy’s calloused hand reached over to slide into yours in platonic support. You continued your mission, unaware that three certain ghosts in breathtaking suits were searching for you.

Alex, Reggie, and Luke, affected by the purple jolts, failed to find the one place where their plan B could work. What Julie hadn’t known was that the guys had a plan just in case the Orpheum wasn’t their unfinished business. The three would go to Elysium to accept their fate and ensure Julie believed they crossed over.

With no Elysium in sight, the boys returned to the Molina garage hoping that one thing would go their way: Julie would go straight to bed.

The glow purple smoke trailed through the city park into an older part of Los Angeles before it stopped. Where the smoke stopped was a vast empty space surrounded by trees.

“Well, that’s a little anticlimactic.” You grumbled crossing your arms, “Willie’s somewhere here. Do you think Caleb has an underground lair?”

Rudy cast an unamused expression at you, “From past experience. No, that’s not likely. He probably has an apartment downtown. An underground network of caves in the woods is more shapeshifter style but still not true.”

“One: You’re rambling. Two: What the hell kind of life did you have?” You questioned furrowing your eyebrows at his rather odd piece of information.

“An old one.” Rudy spoke, staring ahead, “Besides, I think we should check out whatever building is hidden from our sight.”

“Hid-“Your mouth halted when Rudy roughly gripped your shoulders to twist you to face the empty space.

“Close your eyes. Trust your senses.” Rudy spoke softly, “Or pay attention to the slab of concrete in the middle of an empty space with well-kempt grass.”

Your palm slammed your forehead with a resounding thump in the night with distance lights from surrounding buildings. Rudy squeezed your shoulders as he stepped to the side once more in turn, closing his eyes.

“Walk in my mind.” Rudy stated for the first time in your friendship, allowing you to look in his mind. Your hesitance was met with another squeeze of comfort in his calloused grip.

Your tired eyes closed as your mind timidly stepped into the rather breathtaking mind of Rudy, who felt guilt the most. While Susie’s mind was like a summer day spent at a lake with brightness and gorgeous field of flowers, Rudy’s mind was different.

It was dark in Rudy’s mind but not as if evil, but as if he had been touched by the darkness and painted permanently. There’s was the odd whisper of childlike laughter intermingled with the full adult laugh of a woman; the laughter overshadowed with the sound of funeral music. You felt the lose near that memory. Rudy’s mind was painful to be in and drowning in the feelings he had.

Your breath caught seeing a door you assumed was of his childhood room with a name you couldn’t pronounce for the life of you.

“My parents named me after my mom’s dad.” Rudy spoke through his mind with a soft smile on his face, “I couldn’t say it, so I called myself Mischief. I stopped using it when my mom died, and I went by a shortened version of my last name.”

Your eyes watched as the door disappeared, and the reason you were in his mind came back to the forefront. Your eyes watched the image forming of a vintage hotel rippling in the air before it solidified. The size reminded you of a castle, and it felt like you were storming it.

Without any more mental interaction, you stepped out of Rudy’s mind back into the real world. The very same hotel in plain sight to both Rudy and your surprised elation.

“Honestly didn’t think that would work.” Rudy breathlessly laughed, staring at the hotel once hidden to them. A dark comparison to Elysium.

“How do we play this, Rudy?” You inquired looking over at him, “This is very different from stealing cars and scaring teens.”

“Easy. We blend in.” Rudy responded, holding one hand out to grasp yours in which you noticed your attire had changed, “Perks of illusion? I can alter our own perception of ourselves.”

“Oh, wow. That looks expensive.” You replied, staring at the diamond bracelet on your wrist matching the necklace you wore.

Rudy’s attire had changed from his normal button-up with the sleeves rolled to be layered under a charcoal grey vest and jacket. Sleek matching pants to his coat and the dark black-tie matching the elegant black dress you wore. He had taken pity on your footwear to fit your ability to walk and for the fancy place.

He even had diamond cufflinks that matched you, but the wedding rings on your fingers took you aback. Your widened eyes staring at him.

“Tonight we’re Mr and Mrs Martin,” Rudy spoke choking on the last name he gave as it was the upscale name toppled from his lips.

“Okay. This is a test of our abilities.”

“This is if our plan A of being invisible doesn’t work. The one thing we know for sure is that Caleb has never seen either one of us.” Rudy soothed your nerves with a half-smile,” Let’s get Willie out.”

Your arm slipped into the crook of his to walk to the front door, “I feel like a spy. I feel like that Naomi Roma-“

“It’s Natasha Romanoff. Have you ever seen one of the marvel movies?” Rudy demanded walking up the entrance with a pained smile, “You’re like my best friend and when he wouldn’t watch Star Wars! Never caught one of my references!”

“Okay! Sorry, we can watch the movies when this over.” You grumbled as your heels clicked in the foyer of the hotel. The inside made you feel like you were sent back in time to the roaring ’20s.

“Oh damn, this is nice,” Rudy whispered, staring at the chandelier in the extravagant lobby of the last place you wanted to be.

While on the outside the two ghosts appeared cool, calm and collected they were anything but. Both a wreck inside from the perilous errand they had done that could very well be the ending of Elysium. Rudy nudged you to begin finding Willie with your mind, but you didn’t need to.

That same glowing mist was on the ground pulling you in the direction of a dark hall away from the route to the Club. Rudy kept his eye out, a characteristic carried into the afterlife from his time with the FBI, as you followed the mist. The hall continued to get more and more dark as the walk continued.

Finally at the end was a blood-red door.

“I swear to god if he kills his Club members, I’ll lose it.” You hissed to your arm candy, “What if he’s really H. H. Holmes disguised as a former magician? His door is blood red!”

“Have you been using your serial killer colouring book again?” Rudy demanded stuttering his steps to place his whiskey brown eyes on you. The sheepish expression on your face was enough of a response to gain the look of disbelief could have sent you into hysterics had the time not been too serious.

With a grin belying the situation, you twisted your wrist to open the door to hopefully where Willie was being held.

“What a cliché. He’s keeping Willie in the basement?”

“Will you shut up!” Rudy hissed right back with a clenched jaw entering the somewhat unfinished basement. It was cold even to your dead standards where the cold didn’t bother that much.

At the bottom in front of a desk with only a small lamp as illumination sat a vacant-eyed Willie painstakingly detailing a fabric. The lush purple velvet fabric was bougie, to say the least, and rather outlandish for the skater.

“Willie.” You softly coaxed the teen to glance up from the fabric you found to be something Caleb would wear. Willie’s brown eyes barely met yours before they returned to the sewing needle in his hand and the tiny beads in the bowl.

“Caleb is actually forcing him to be his personal seamstress?” Rudy scoffed,d stepping right up by your side to look at the work.

Both trying unsuccessfully to coaxed Willie out of the stupor he was engaged in the sudden poofing wasn’t heard.

“Mrs. Young taught both Willie and Kayla how to sew. She’s quite the seamstress, reminds me of my old one.” Caleb wistfully responded with a smarmy smile on his face, “Well if it isn’t little Y/N and whoever she brought. Nice threads.”

“Let him go.”

Caleb’s index finger caressed the corner of his mouth so gently to ensure the stage makeup didn’t budge. His clear ocean blue eyes turning thunderstorm navy as his lips parted in such a bone-chilling sinister grin.

“Let him go? He tried to take my new house band from me. He thinks that those boys not crossing over is his punishment. I think that adorable but so very wrong.” Caleb shrugged, dragging his finger down the bicep of his puppet.

“What can we do to- “

“You see after he’s done fixing the tuxedo jacket I’m going to tie him up on the table and slowly strip away his soul piece by piece. No, Willie won’t get the quick and easy zap erasing him. I’ll personally see it’s the most painful thing he experiences and I’ll do so happily.”

“Willie! Wake up!” Rudy shouted, shaking the skater’s shoulder frantically with his focus never entirely leaving the mad man. The whiskey brown eyes panicking at the odd displaced feeling of reliving his living life.

“That won’t work.” Caleb chuckled crossing his arms, “It’s rather amusing you think you can beat me. I’m Caleb Covington! I’m persuasive enough for hundred of memberships to financially benefit the Club.”

“And I’m Y/N Y/L/N bitch.” You snarled viciously throwing your mind into the nefarious narcissistic mind of the washed-up magician.

Caleb Convington had started to bore his audience with the same tricks at every previous show. The lack of interest depleting the attendance numbers and severely hurting the financials. So Caleb decided to broaden his talent by copying the likes of Harry Houdini.

He had a knack for both the dramatics and swindling his audience to be tricked by the illusions he created. The heightened popularity increased Caleb’s thirst for status and fame, so he overestimated himself.

Surrounded by adoring fans and journalists, Caleb had his assistant lock him in a safe with no key, to the audience’s knowledge, and push the safe into the river. Unfortunately from the infamous magician and escape artist the safe warped due to the material it as made out of. Caleb Covington died drowning in a safe at the bottom of the river.

You flinched feeling the emotion at the time Caleb had died and the feeling of disappointment at not leaving a legacy. Your continued your trek in the struggling mind of a man who viewed himself as invincible. You caught glimpses of a young Caleb with his family and the moments of tragedy that shaped him.

You saw his first taste of power in death and the content since the first time he erased a ghost from existence. It sickened you more as you reached the point where Willie came into Caleb’s path.

I’m unique, Caleb. Unlike you with the illusions and empty promises, I have real power that you could only dream of. Hearing your thoughts and planting my own words is just the tip of the iceberg.

Caleb screamed in response holding his aching head as you cruelly ripped every memory of Willie from his mind. The screams echoed not only in the basement but through the hotel the Club worked out of.

“Stop!” Caleb pleaded, shaking his head back and forth. The anguish was un-fazing to both the lucid people in the room. Rudy too busy trying to wake your best friend from the trance he had been placed in.

“I can alter memories. Remove them and even plant memories of my own design. You may take from people, but I give to people. I refused to give you anything.” You circled the man seeing double from outside and inside his mind.

I’m everything you wish you could be.

Your last action in his mind was searing a burn that flashed across his entire body from a nerve stroked. With the heat equivalent to magma in his veins, you burrowed to where Caleb controlled the souls. With a smear of your fingers, Willie’s soul was released from Caleb clutches.

“C’mon. Get Willie.” You told Rudy sending Caleb into an empty trance as if he was no more than a wax figure. Rudy eased the skater up from the desk while you exchanged Caleb to sit on the chair holding the needle, “We need to leave. I’ll get rid of any speck of Willie in memories.”

“I didn’t even get to punch the guy.” Rudy pouted, dragging his feet up the stairs away from the magician.

“That’s a good thing. I’m sure Caleb would be more pissed about his nose being damaged than losing Willie.” You scoffed helping the man urge Willie to walk up the stairs and then down the hallway to the entrance.

As you walked you brushed the minds of every individual in the building, all members in attendance, you gently removed all traces of Willie. By the time you reached the edge of the park, you had relaxed.

“We should get him to Alex, they didn’t crossover. I can still feel their imprint.”

“He’d be safer at Elysium to lay low.” Rudy replied, keeping on eye on the skater and on anyone he could see.

With only a nod, you ushered the ghost to teleport both the skater and himself back to the safe walls of Elysium. As he did so, you reached out with your mind to the blonde-haired sweet male in adoration with your best friend.

Clicking his place was easy enough for your draining power after the taxing bond with Willie’s absent presence. Instead of walking as you would generally choose you poofed on the cement pad in the backyard of a home. The surrounding skirt of the backyard encased with plants and flowers.

“Hello?” You called out in the darkness. The soft, mumbled words had your feet moving in the direction.

Standing in a circle mesmerized at the purple tattoos lifting off their skin was the boys of Julie and the Phantoms. The teenage beautiful Puerto Rican girl stood across from Luke with Reggie and Alex on each side.

“Alex?” You called out to the boy wearing a baby pink vintage tuxedo that complimented his skin and hair exquisitely. The outfit definitely screamed that Caleb had something to do with it, especially with the missing fanny pack.

“Y/N?” Luke gasped turning to see you in incredibly fancy attire matching his gorgeous blue suit modified to having no sleeves. The anticipation of eating at you to find Reggie rocking a red suit with butterflies on the fabric.

“I’m sorry you didn’t crossover.” Your words soothed the sad teenagers that had accepted their fate only to have no control again. An introduction was brought between you and Julie when the living girl elbowed Alex.

“Not that we mind but what are you doing here? How did you get here, and why are you dressed up?” Luke inquired, pushing his hands into his suit pockets, engrossed with your gorgeous appearance.

“Well when you crash a fancy Club with a narcissistic founder…any means to blend in is necessary.” You responded, “As for your second question.”

Your finger tapped your temple before continuing to speak, “I’m here because Alex deserves to know. You all do.”

The boy in baby pink frantically stepped forward, “What happened?”

“Maybe it’s best, I just show you?” Your brows furrowed to your own question accompanied by your lower lip being bitten by your teeth. The red lipstick not budging as it was an illusion as well.

“Hu-“Reggie grunted as he spiralled with his two dead bandmates into the scene that had sent you on your determined mission.

The rough action of being drawn into your memories as jarring as the first time and just as scary. The maniacal magician pacing the dark basement simply to heighten his dramatic speech. Alex’s heart clenched at the vacant look in the skater’s eyes with the faintest tinge of purple in the gorgeous brown.

“I feel like I got carsick.” Reggie moaned leaning over to clutch his midsection once you released the ghostly trio. Reggie would often gain a look of disbelief and horror from the blonde drummer, but his entire brain was centred on Willie.

“Rudy took Willie back to Elysium where he’ll be safe. If you want, you can join us.” The words were offered to both the dead and living currently in the room.

Opting out, Julie retired to her bedroom to calm down from the rush of performing at the Orpheum of all places. Besides she felt like going to Elysium was best for the three boys, and maybe they would move there. Julie would miss them, but she knew they’d always come back.

Susie was quick to hug you tightly as you stepped through the gates with the dead members of Julie’s band. The boys changed out of the tuxedos they had dropped off at a donation centre, Reggie had wanted to burn them. After living on the streets for a short while, Luke understood the need for clothing, so the clothing was taken to shelters.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. Rudy told me you overexerted yourself again.” Susie spoke with a deeply furrowed brow oblivious to the puppy dog look from the bassist in red flannel.

“If I didn’t, Willie would be gone.”

“You’re pale yet flushed cheeks. I can see you have a fever. You need to rest.”

“I need to soothe Willie out of the trance that psychotic prick put him in.” You scoffed shaking Susie’s hand off your shoulder to sidestep her, “I’ll rest when he’s fine.”

“I-“

“At least gab something from the cafeteria for energy.” Susie’s brown eyes dimmed at your typical brush off. The same routine of overusing your powers and not recharging correctly, “He’s in Cottage A!”

The boys were on your heels as you power-walked through the streets of the ghost city with one location in mind. The living streets with homes of all style and colours appeared passed the bakery, the school and the clothing stores.

“You can eat?” Reggie whispered as a little ghost girl licked an ice cream cone walked by.

“Harvey adored cooking for people when he living, so he continued in death. Harvey can make food for ghosts, and so can his staff if they work in his kitchen. His pastry chef provides baked goods to Flora’s Bakery and makes the best ice cream.”

“Oh my god.” Reggie practically squealed wholly flabbergasted by the almost perfect place you created, “How do you pay for things?”

“We don’t. What Harvey doesn’t grow in his garden, he can make ingredients out of thin air. We all have some kind of job we do. Everyone has a role in fulfilling to keep Elysium running.” You simply spoke keeping your eyes on the cottage with the robin’s egg blue door.

As if he knew Rudy flung the door open elated to see you standing there. Both of you still wearing the illusioned attire. IN milliseconds he wiped the illusion away, returning you back into your street clothes.

“How is he?”

“No change.” Rudy replied, following your steps in the living room. The skater was staring blankly at the wall.

“Willie!” Alex cried, rushing over to kneel beside the boy that had so swiftly stolen his heart without him realizing. The emotion in his word didn’t get a microscopic flinch from the formerly so-called enemy.

“Everyone be quiet.” You demanded forcibly staring each person in the room down for a mere second. With the desired silence continued, you ignored the headache forming in your head to step into the skater’s mind.

William Young was screaming to be released by the prison of his own mind Caleb had forced him into. He had felt the restriction on his soul lifted and the mist of purple leaving his brain, but he was still stuck.

He could barely breathe with the weight on his chest. Willie didn’t like feeling stuck in one place as he was a wanderer at heart. It was a reason why he had joined the Hollywood Ghost Club with the promise of travel.

Willie come back

In his mind, the sound of your voice firstly grounded the young man as a mirage of your form flickered. Your eyes screamed worry while the smile was one of relief.

Caleb can’t hurt you anymore. Come home.

The spectators watching see your flinching wavering expression and the tensing of Willie’s facial muscles. Everyone sat on the edge of their seat as the two pairs eyes opened in synch of the yells of hurt.

What they didn’t expect was your eyes to roll into the back of your skull and you to collapse onto the floor.

“Y/N!” Willie cried, stumbling off the couch onto the cold floor where your body lay prone, “Wake up!”

It seemed everyone forgot the little detail of being dead.

“She’s fine.” Rudy remarked, shaking your arm with such gentle care matching the four guys’ care in the room.

Your eyelids fluttered open under the bright lights of the unused cottage still waiting for an owner.

“Susie was right.” You grumbled allowing Willie to help you sit up against the blue velvet couch. Your mussed hair adorable in the eyes of the guitarist utterly enamoured with everything about you.

“She usually is.” Rudy mused, thinking of the many times she had proven everyone wrong, “She punched me for not bringing you home.”

“Gotta love her.” You snorted turning to face the four ghosts awkwardly gazing around the room. It was barren of personality with the lack of inhabitants. The yearning quickly found in the boys’ eyes, “You know this isn’t the only cottage in need of people.”

“What do-“

“You’re welcome to live here. I know you three live in that studio, but here you can have a real bed. You can eat and having your own place. You can come and go as you please.” You offered without looking, Rudy.

“I don’-“

“If you don’t want to live here, it’s okay, but the option is always there. Willie, we make plans for a skatepark-“

“Oh, you had me from the start.” Willie beamed tugging you into his arms, “I missed this. I missed you.”

“Me too.” You murmured into his warm embrace equally relaxed at knowing he was safe again. Your eyes clashing with the soft blue had Ideas songwriting already filled with lyrics of a pretty girl wearing a jean jacket with patches.

The lyrics turned into songs both in the studio and the cottage that Luke, Reggie and Alex accepted in Elysium. It had been a spirited discussion with Julie on moving to Elysium, but the boys were always there when she wasn’t in school. Often Elysium hosted a concert for the residents with the visitation of Julie.

Your reciprocated attraction with the messy-haired hazel-eyed guitarist flourished into a serious relationship. Luke took on the role of teaching how to play the guitar and songwriting. Alex took of mediation while Reggie worked with Harvey.

Willie quickly took on designing the skatepark he taught at while also taking a position at the ghost school.

“Morning.” The soft whisper roused your sleep into the golden glow of the morning light and chirping birds.

The growling aspect of his voice coming from only just waking up. The sight of Luke’s bleary eyes was heartwarming.

A year into moving into Elysium, Luke had asked if you’d like to move in as he was the only one in the original house. Alex had moved into the little cottage with Willie three months into the relationship while Reggie was going back and forth between Susie’s room and his own place.

“Morning.” You hummed leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

“You know I thought my life ended when I died. That I could never find someone and have a family. That I couldn’t share my music with the world. I was wrong.” Luke murmured as he cupped your cheek in his hand, “The band is growing more and more each day. I found the love of my life, and we have a family with everyone. I haven’t felt like I had had home for so long, but I get it now. You’re my home. I love you.”

Your cheeks warmed up at the adoration Luke displayed in his expressive hazel green gaze just as it had since day one. The awe fell from his lips before you pressed a kiss to his lips, only one of the many in the eons to come.

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bunnys-beetlejuice-blog · 3 years ago

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gently rings a little bell in your ear My fic updated with two new chapters when you weren't paying attention! but now i am tilting your chin up with the point of my sword, forcing you to look. its very villainous and cool. this is part three of an increasingly convoluted story, part one can be found all the way over here but if you just want the high school romance stuff and don't care about found family, that's fine, i guess, but like, what's your deal

The weekend is a welcome relief from everything at school. He’s tired of feeling like shit, so Saturday, annoyingly bright and early, he startles Lydia awake by flopping on her bed. It causes her to bounce, and she groans, pulling the dark purple blanket further over her head. “Beetlejuice…” “I was thinkin’, today we should spend th’ whole day outdoors, in th’ park or somethin’,” he grins, and she lifts the blanket just barely, to glare at him. “You only want to play outside because all your stuff was taken away,” comes her accusation, and she’s not exactly wrong, but he just wiggles a hand under her blanket and gives her nose a poke. “Let’s go get lost, somewhere. Come on, Lyds, please?” She tries to hit him with a pillow but her grip is tired from sleep, and all she manages to do is shove the thing at him.

Twenty minutes later, she’s dressed and ready, bouncing on the balls of her feet, as he mulls over which button up to wear, the highlighter yellow with purple bugs, or the dark green with orange bones. They’re two equally ugly shirts that kind of give him a headache to look at, and both are favorites. “I can’t believe you woke me up at eight so I could stand around watching you go through your wardrobe.” “This is important.” He settles on the bugs, finally, and pulls it on before turning to Lydia, but she’s gone. He blinks, and sticks his head out his door, in time to headbutt her as she comes back in. Both siblings reel back and hold their heads. “Beetlejuice…” she groans. “Lyd-eee-uhhh,” he mimics her. She huffs and throws what she’d gone to her room to retrieve at him. He catches it, then stares. It’s his hoodie, his ruined one from that disastrous Halloween. He can still see that faded dark copper stain in some places, but it's better than it was. Also, the holes slashed in the arms have been very sloppily stitched with a thick, black embroidery thread. He looks back at his sister. “You seemed like you were having a hard week,” Lydia says, shuffling her feet. “I never sewed anything before, I’m sorry it looks kind of messy, and I tried really hard to get the bloodstains out...” He slips his familiar stripes back on and feels much more at ease. “It’s cool,” he tells her. “I like messy.” He holds open his arms and she falls into them, pressing her face against his stomach. It's a nice moment, and for once, he doesn’t feel inclined to ruin it, just pats his little sister’s head. “Love you.” “Love you too.”

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````` Charles, ever an early riser, is surprised to see his children in the kitchen this bright eyed and bushy tailed on a Saturday. He’s pouring two coffees, one for himself and one for Emily, who is sitting at the table, head propped up on her hand, and still functionally asleep, when Betelgeuse and Lydia come bounding in to raid the fridge. “And what are you two getting up to today?” he asks, and the siblings pause to look at him. “Goin’ to th’ park.” “You think so?” Betelgeuse’s shoulder slump. “Seriously? You take all my stuff away an’ now I can’t even go out?” “You’re still in trouble. Why should you be allowed to go out and have fun?” “Cause that wasn’t specified!” Betelgeuse tries, and then turns to Emily. “Ma, tell him!” Emily mutters in her sleep, and Charles wordlessly sets the coffee down in front of her. The smell hits her nose, and robotically, she lifts the drink to her lips, eyes never opening. “Let BJ go do stuff,” she manages, maybe not as eloquent as she normally speaks, her voice gruff from sleep. Betelgeuse grins up at Charles. His father sips his own coffee, and then pats his son’s head. “Home before dark. No fire, no demon nonsense, no taking drugs from strangers.” “Home at midnight, commit arson, summon Satan, enjoy stranger candy. I gotcha.” Both his children receive a kiss on the head before stuffing Lydia’s little black coffin bag with snacks, and heading out.

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````

It’s a big city, and there’s not a loss of things to do, especially with his powers, and there’s no adult supervision today. They find a café and enjoy a big breakfast, then he turns them invisible and they sneak away before the check comes, only reappearing a block later, Lydia grinning wildly. “Food tastes better stolen!” she says, and he pats her head. “There’s my little criminal.” They sneak into a movie, next, some horror thing Lydia had wanted to see that even Emily, the fun parent, had said she was too little for. It’s absolutely a gore fest, but not especially good, and they throw popcorn at the screen and cheer whenever the killer scores another victim.

“I think you’d die early in a slasher,” she says after, scattering their uneaten popcorn on the pavement in front of the theatre. She gets the attention of a whole flock of pigeons, which land and begin pecking at the kernels. “What’s your logic, there?” “You die on screen early and then the twist is you faked your death and were the killer.” “Ohh, classic. I love it.” “I’m a total final girl,” Lydia turns the half empty bucket upside down, much to the joy of the starving sky rats. “And then at the end, it’s like, I knew you were the killer the whole time, and I was just acting. Cause we’re in it together. You know, partners in crime.” He picks her up, slings her over his shoulder. “Always.”

He takes them to Central Park, next, holding her hand behind the theatre and apparating, accidentally, up a tree. She gasps and clings to him, and he digs his claws into the bark of the tree to steady them. “No worries, no worries. I just gotta..” They appear on the ground below, and Lydia looks dizzy. “Feels weird when you do that,” she tells him. “Like riding a rollercoaster, except your limbs are all asleep. But.. Kinda not that, at the same time.” It feels normal to him, but he regularly eats tin cans, so what does he know about normal to begin with?

Lydia takes her camera from her coffin bag, and readies it. It’s a little instamatic she got for her birthday, a few months ago, and she’s going through film like crazy, taking some pretty shitty pictures. He’s not that blunt to her face, though. It’s not like he was a rockstar on the ukulele when he first started, and she’s got a lot of enthusiasm for taking photos. He’s not going to be the one to squash that for her.

Also, he’ll bite off the hand of whoever tries.

“You think this can take pictures underwater?” she asks, aiming her camera at a random woman jogging by. The jogger makes a face, which seems to be what Lydia expects, because she snaps the picture as the woman continues on her way, and the little photo pops out the bottom. Lydia gives it an aggressive shake.

“I’m gonna guess no. Besides, it’s too cold for you to take a swim.” “So let’s go somewhere warmer. I’m thinking Hawaii.” “Good idea, genius, an’ how do you think we’re getting there?” “You can teleport us.”

He actually has to stop and think about that. “I don’t think I could do it in one straight shot,” he says at last. Lydia has moved to a different kind of voyeurism, because she’s on her stomach on the grass, following the movement of a trail of ants with her lens. “I’d probably have to do little distances, an’ get tired and need a nap in th’ middle.”

“Maybe through a mirror? Like Sam?” She adjusts the optic, an entirely useless motion, because this camera doesn’t have any kind of zoom feature. But she’s seen people do it in nature documentaries. “Never done mirror travel before.” He mulls that over. “I’ll practice when I get home, an’ see if I can even pull you through.” “You’re not allowed to go to Hawaii without me,” she gets what she considers her perfect shot, and then stands, brushing off her dark red dress. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They go bone hunting next, Lydia’s camera still at the ready, his keen nose leading the way. It’s easy to find owl pellets, and she breaks one open with her bare hands, as he teases her.

“Ew ew ew, Lydia gross, you’re touching it!” he pitches up his gruff voice to sound like a tweenage girl, and she rolls her eyes. “No skull in this one,” she frowns, wiping her hands on his hoodie.

“Maybe there’s a bodiless mouse head around here, livin’ it’s best life.” She looks doubtful.

Another, different smell hits his sensitive nose, just then. It’s death, new and fresh. His pupils dilate, and he follows it, her trailing after him, assuming he’s on the scent of more animal bones. What they find instead is an old man propped against a tree. He’s still warm, but the color is draining from his face, and rapidly. He doesn’t look hurt, he’s not bleeding. It’s like he sat down for a rest and died.

Lydia doesn’t get it, not right away. Death is a funny punchline in an overly gorey movie. She’s never seen the real thing, before. “Should we wake him up? It’s cold to be sleeping here.” He lifts the man’s arm, and it flops bonelessly back down. Her eyes go wide. “I doubt he’s gettin’ back up, kiddo.” She lifts her camera and takes a picture.

“Hello?” He hears a voice, and turns. The old man is standing next to himself. He looks back at Lydia, but she’s staring in fascination at the corpse, so he leaves her to it. “Hey,” he nods to the man, who looks relieved. “Can you call my grandson? My phone battery died,” he says, not seeming to understand the position he’s in. Betelgeuse tilts his head to the side. “You’re dead,” he says, a bit unkindly, and Lydia, who has been kneeling by the body, poking it, looks up at him. “I am?” “Wh- No, not you, Lyds, th’ stiff.” He gestures to the ghost, who has seemed to notice “himself” laying there. Lydia looks at her brother, confused. “There’s no one there.” “Sure there is. You just can’t see ghosts.”

“That’s me,” the old man says, not that anyone’s listening to him. “Should we tell someone about this?” Lydia asks him, and Betelgeuse shrugs. “Why? Someone will find th’ body eventually. You know. When it starts smellin’ like shit.” “I don’t want to leave him out here.” “Please, don’t leave me out here!” “I wouldn’t want to be left out here.” “Lucky for you, you’re never gonna die. You even try it an’ I’ll shove your soul back down your throat, if I have to.”

He smells the netherworld, and grabs Lydia, pulling her back, in time for another ghost to appear. A guide. The guide doesn’t even take a moment to look around, just instantly busies herself with getting the newly dead situated, and Betelgeuse picks Lydia up and carries her away. “That’s so sad,” she says, taking one last picture of the body from atop his shoulder. “I guess.”

They find the next official looking person they see, someone cleaning up trash, who doesn’t believe them, clearly, until he sees one of the photos Lydia took. The deathly pallor of the old man convinces him to go looking. Thirty minutes later, that part of the park is crawling with breathers, and the two of them are stuck on a bench, being talked to by cops. It’s a whole, boring process, and it’s drawing a big crowd. “Told ya, we shoulda minded our business,” Betelgeuse nudges his sister. Lydia is looking overwhelmed. Neither sibling ever gets this much attention. There’s even a news crew, though he can’t imagine what for. It’s just one old dead guy, and it’s not even a murder. Someone with a microphone tries to approach them, and he turns their mic into a black and white striped snake, forcing them to fling it away from themselves in a panic, and then he grabs Lydia.

They blink from existence and appear a ways away, and Lydia’s clutching his hand harder than she needs to. “Hey, come on.” His grating voice is soft, for her, as he kneels to her level, and she throws her arms around his neck. “How are you so calm? Doesn’t it make you sad?” she asks, softly, and he gives her an extra squeeze. “Happens to all breathers, Lyds. But it’s not somethin’ I gotta worry about, ever. So… no, not really.”

“Will you be sad when I die?”

He scoops her up, holding his little sister in his arms, and stands, her still clinging around his neck. “When you die at a hundred and twenty,” he tells her, carrying her along the path. “Wherever in the netherworld you end up, I’ll go too. Won’t even have time to be sad, me an’ you’ll be too busy causin’ trouble, even then.” She seems satisfied with that answer, and he doesn’t mind carrying her, so they enjoy the autumn leaves like that, her in his arms, as he follows the winding pathways of the park.

They don’t tell Charles and Emily, when they finally do get home, the sun just barely still peaking over the horizon. It doesn’t seem like a good idea, and Lydia doesn’t especially want to talk about it anymore. She pins her new photos up on the twine strung between the tall bedposts in her room. There’s a couple nice ones, and she lets him eat the ones she decides she hates. “Does it count as part of being grounded if you watch my tv?” she asks, and he grins. “Let’s find out.” She pops in Coraline, which he has to assume she’s got fucking memorized at this point, but they also talk through most of it. By the time the tasty looking bug furniture is on screen, her eyelids are drooping. “I dunno why they make her eatin’ bugs so evil. I wanna try beetles from Zanzibar,” he complains, and she just snorts in response “I’ll get you some fancy beetles, for your birthday.” “Kay. Sounds good.” She falls asleep on him a minute later, and he waives a hand, snuffing the lights, but lets the movie finish playing as he settles next to her, and sleeps.

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````` That next week is boring, but normal. Adam’s in the library every day, despite his earlier insistence that he had better things to do. Betelgeuse honestly just wheels the cart along and lets Adam shelf the books, now, which the nerd seems to unironically enjoy. He’s all smiles as he gets to put things away neatly. It’s embarrassing how endearing and cute Betelgeuse finds that. It’s Tuesday, Barbara isn’t there that day, at least, not right at that moment, so Adam is babbling about her. “Barbara and I aren’t really performers,” he’s telling Betelgeuse, returning a stack of history books to their proper places on the shelves. “But we thought it would be fun to try theatre together, and then we really enjoyed it, so we’ve been in the last two productions. She can really sing, she does this high note, and it’s-” “Angelic, I bet.” Both boys give a stupid, love sick sigh. Adam pauses, and nods, and then studies the other teen. “So.. You.. You like her?” “Yeah,” he says easily. “But that doesn’t mean anythin’.” “What do you mean?” “I mean,” he clarifies, flopping across the cart, stomach first, and laying on it, staring down at Adam, who is crouching to reshelf some more books. “That despite me being a hot piece of ass, I’m probably not her type. I imagine she goes more for…” he studies Adam, trying to think of a nice word for boring, plain and vanilla. “More stable guys,” he lands on. “Like you. I bet she even likes how cute your butt looks in your khakis. I know I do.” Adam flushes. “You think so?” “It’s a good butt.” He nods, and Adam goes redder. “I meant, you think Barbara.. Might like me?” “Well, don’t push your luck, or nothin’, but you probably got a better chance with her.”

“You’re not entirely unlikable,” Adam offers. Betelgeuse lets out a guffaw that’s too loud, because someone in the next aisle over shushes him. “You already forget what I told you Friday?” he rests his head on his hand, tone condescending. “I know no one wants me around.”

“You’re setting yourself up for failure, with that attitude.”

“You think so, huh? Think I just need to hold hands round th’ campfire and sing kumbaya with all you breathers? I don’t think anyone would even take my hand. Probably couldn't get away from me fast enough.” There’s a pause. He doesn’t realize what he’s said until Adam is repeating it. “Breathers?”

He doesn’t get a chance to reply, because he feels a push on the cart, and turns to see Barbara, hands on the handle. “You’ve completely given up even trying, haven’t you?” she says, and he thinks she means about the books, and smiles. “No point. Adam’ll just do it for me.” “I mean with talking to people. With making friends.” His smile falls quickly into a scowl, and he runs a hand through his wild mess of green hair. “Lay off me, Babs. I’m bein’ friendly right now, aren’t I?”

“Sure, it’s plenty friendly, letting Adam do your work. But you don’t try, and then you get your feelings hurt when no one does it for you.” That’s not laying off, and it’s irritating him. “You can’t imagine anyone being nice to you, so you’re rude and push everyone away the first chance you get, in case what? In case you make a friend? Kevin probably needs you, right now,” she presses, physically too, making the cart he’s still lying across lurch forward. “I told you what happened to his dad, and you just said he wasn’t even your friend, when everyone knows you spent the last few months holding hands and making googoo eyes at him, and only talking to each other.”

“S’none of your business,” he tugs at his hair, pulling a tuft down to watch the color. Still green. He’s okay, but he keeps it there, in front of his eyes, focusing on it and not having to look at Barbara. “I’m making it my business. What are you so afraid of? What’s with the barrier? I saw you with your sister, you’re normal and nice, to her. So it’s other people you’re afraid of?” “M’not,” he growls out, standing up off the cart. “Afraid of anythin’.”

“You are,” she says, letting go of the cart and stomping to stand in front of him. She’s got him cornered, his back pressed to the bookshelf behind him. He keeps his eyes on that green tuft, biting his bottom lip. “You’re afraid of rejection, so you don’t talk, or you’re a jerk to people. You’re so afraid of other people, you make yourself sit alone every day, even when there’s an empty seat next to someone else.”

“No one wants me around!”

God, that hurts. He can see purple forming in the tip of his hair.

“You think I haven’t tried?” he rasps at her, letting his hair go, and finally looking directly at her. “You think I like sittin’ alone, bein’ the weird kid in every class, not havin’ anyone to talk to? It sucks!” he hears himself being shushed again, and he expends a burst of power in that direction, knocking books off the shelves to hit the person who can’t mind their own business. The sudden noise makes both Adam and Barbara jump. “You ever noticed that anytime I’ve tried, people can’t get th’ hell away from me fast enough? I’m tired of bein’ alone, but every time I try, somethin’ goes to shit, or I'm ignored! So maybe it is easier to just be a jerk an’ not worry about gettin’ hurt, than to keep tryin’ and ache all th’ time.”

It’s the most honest he’s ever been, out loud. Barbara clenches her fists, but doesn’t say anything. He sees Adam push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

Lunch isn’t even close to over, and he’s just made more work for himself by knocking those books off the shelf, but he doesn’t care. He grabs his backpack from the cart and pushes past the two of them, and he storms out, forcing the library door to slam, even though it’s a soft close door. It feels more final, that way.

He spends the rest of lunch invisible, to avoid any more trouble with adults, and slumps into his customary seat in the back of every class, for the rest of the day. No one talks to him. He doesn’t try to talk to anyone. It’s a system, it works. Stupid Barbara. What does she even know? Like she can somehow understand anything he’s going through. She’s pretty, and cool, and has a ton of friends, he thinks, absolutely bitter. She doesn’t get it.

He trudges to the drama room after school, and pushes open the door with his shoulder. The seats are in a circle, again, and he chooses a random one, pointedly, away from Adam and Barbara, between two other people. He sits there, silent, and after a moment, the two kids both move seats. How miserably predictable. Come on, he wills himself. No purple, no red. Just stay green. You can go home and freak the fuck out, but just stay green, he begs his hair.

He wipes his nose hard with his hoodie sleeve, and focuses on that, on the texture of the fabric and the way he rubs hard enough for it to hurt. Pain is as close to relief as he can get. Then the chairs next to him are scooted closer, and he blinks, and realizes that Adam and Barbara have settled on either side of him. He doesn’t.. Get it. He can’t understand, but then both of them reach a hand out, and take one of his, and give it a squeeze. It’s grounding. He takes a breath he doesn’t need, and then a couple more, shaky and painful, and he gives their hands a squeeze back, like he’s making sure they’re real. They are.

When the club starts, he tries, very sincerely, to focus on what’s being said, and not the bright hot feeling blooming like a flower in his chest. Read the rest here!!

#beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice au #beetlejuice fanfiction #adam maitland #barbara maitland #emily deetz #lydia deetz #beetlejuice broadway

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rainy-day-gracie · 4 years ago

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Old Friends 9

Part 1 of a series finale!!

Spencer Reid x Reader

I just wanna say thank you for all the love I’ve been getting :) the positivity is wonderful, so thank you and I love you !!

Please enjoy!

Chapter 9:

I groaned at the sound of the alarm clock screaming at me. “Spencer, time for work,” I said as I flopped out of bed.

“Huh?” He flinched at me opening the drapes in my bedroom window, sunlight illuminating his sleepy eyes.

“Get up, c’mon,” I pulled the covers off of him, and he jerked upright in his boxers. “Help me make the bed.”

There was something so entirely sweet about how domestic and loving getting ready together is. While he was brushing his teeth, I was standing there putting on makeup. When I was straightening my hair for work, he was making sure his hair fluffed in just the right way.

I could easily see this being the rest of my life.

“Breakfast will have to be on the run, we’re already late because you couldn’t get out of bed.” I poked him in the stomach as I passed him a breakfast bar.

“We should just call in sick.” He spoke in the most serious tone, and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“Yeah, if both of us called in sick, I think there would be some questions.” I giggled as I grabbed my keys and left the apartment, Spencer following close behind.

Morgan gave me a look as I settled down at my desk. “Did the pretty girl get some loving last night?”

I tried to ignore him as I pulled out reports I needed to finish. “Morgan, what are you on about?”

He laughed out loud and patted Spencer on the back as he passed by our desks. “Go get em’ lovebirds.”

Hotch had already talked to us about keeping everything professional in the office, but that didn’t keep the team from teasing us endlessly. Just last week Emily asked me if we’ve ever had sex at work.

“You would think he would have a little more manners than that?” Spencer chuckled without looking up from his work. “You look beautiful, stop checking your camera.”

I sighed as I put my phone back in my pocket. “I’m actually worried about something else…” There had never been a time where I showed up to work with a hickey, and I was worried last night had broken my streak.

Spencer smiled sheepishly, and glanced over my neck. “I don’t see any, so you’re okay.”

Garcia trotted across the catwalk in her heels. “Hello wonderful people! You have a case!”

“You are headed to New York City my fine friends, where there have been three murders, all women in their twenties, with cause of death being a gunshot wound to the head and a… message, written on their stomachs.”

Garcia pointed to the screen, where the crime scene photos popped up.

“The first message read ‘mine’, the second one said ‘sin’, and the most recent read ‘whore’.” JJ explained, looking in the case file. “The words were carved into their stomach antemortem, that’s torture.”

“But the gunshot to the head is a completely different MO than torture.” Spencer looked at me, clearly confused.

I furrowed my eyebrows. “What if the gun is just to keep them still? ‘I cut you, don’t flinch or it’s the last thing that you do.’ Psychological and physical torture means he could be a sadist.”

“The women were shown to have been killed in a week’s period, and the unsub is speeding up his timetable. Wheels up in 20.” Hotch took a phone call and left the room.

On the plane, Hotch explained his phone call. “The NYPD found another body three miles from where the last dump site was. Victim had the word ‘love’ carved in her stomach. The unsub seems to mostly be operating in Queens, one body was found in Brooklyn.”

Garcia made a video call with information. “My pretties, with my all-knowing powers of tech I have been able to identify all four victims. Most recent is Hallie Jones, she was a high end prostitute. $10,000 dollars a night, kind of high end. Third was Macy Johnson, she was a street prostitute, not much on her. Second victim was Fiona Lamber, she was also a street prostitute and kinda the same, not much information. First victim was actually a well known woman, Jamie Lorretta. Her father owns an oil company and she has had problems with drugs since she was a teenager.”

Morgan gave a puzzled look. “Why change victimology from a well known woman with money to street prostitutes to a high end call girl?”

“The victimology could mean that the unsub himself comes from money and power himself.” Spencer pointed to the case files. “The gunshot to the forehead is personal, as is the cutting on the stomach. Both of these things point towards a craving for total domination, just two different kinds. The cutting represents a need for possessions, marking his property, and execution style killing shows an already confident mindset.”

“Both of which are things people in power need, ambition for possessions and major confidence,” I added.

“The key to solving this case is Jamie Lorretta. Find out everything you can about her Garcia!” Hotch called over the video camera. Garcia nodded firmly and hung up. “Morgan, Prentiss go to the ME to examine the bodies. Rossi, JJ go to the latest dump site and see what kind of attraction the unsub may have to the area. I will go to the first dump site and see where the killer’s head was at when he first started killing. YLN, go to the station and interview the families of the victims and Reid, go with her and work up a geographic profile.”

I nodded at him and looked back down at the case file.

What did these women do to get themselves killed?

Spencer squeezed my hand reassuringly, reading me like a book. “We’re gonna get him.”

I gave him a side smile. “We always do.”

Macy Johnson and Fiona Lamber’s families were distraught for sure, but it soon became clear that they didn’t know anything about the case.

Hallie Jones’ family was one of the most composed families I’ve seen. They had sad eyes, but not once during our conversation did either of her parents shed a tear. I finally couldn’t take it anymore.

“How are you so… stoic? I’ve interviewed many grieving families before and you two seem extremely calm considering your daughter’s body was found this morning.” I hated to be so blunt, but neither of them were showing any sign of grief over their daughter’s murder.

The parents just looked at each other, then back at me. Mr. Jones took a deep breath.

“Hallie… did what she did. We offered to take care of her, but she chose to have sex with men to pay the bills. After we paid for her degree, the least she could do was use it.” Anger burned in her father’s eyes, and disgust curled in my stomach. His child is dead and he was thinking about money?

“We told her God would punish her for her actions,” Mrs. Jones blurted. “She deserved what was coming to her in the end. All in all, she was probably asking for it.”

I wanted to vomit. These parents blamed their dead child for her own murder? “No one asks for this, Mrs. Jones. And right now, it looks to me like I want to catch your daughter’s killer more than you do, so either give me something that I can use, or leave.”

Both of her parents glared at me. After a moment, Mrs. Jones stormed out of the room, her husband close on her heels.

I rolled my eyes and approached the police chief. “Where’s the Lorretta family? They were supposed to be here at noon.”

The police chief made a face. “The Lorrettas are refusing to leave their home. ‘Don’t want the attention’ of the local press. They said if the FBI wants to ask questions, you’re going to have to go to them.”

I swallowed my annoyance. “Okay, I’ll head over there. I don’t think I’ll be much use here.”

Reid raised his chin. “I’ll come with you.”

I appreciated the company. Maybe around him I won’t flip my lid with these damn parents.

What kind of families are these?

The Lorrettas’ home could give Rossi’s mansion a run for its money. We pulled up in the SUV to a long paved driveway and saw gardeners working in the large front lawn. The front door was made of opaque glass and I could almost smell the entitlement.

Spencer knocked on the door, which was opened almost immediately. A woman with obvious dyed blonde hair and botox greeted us.

“You must be from the FBI! Come in please,” she said as she basically pulled Spencer and I into the house. Not exactly the demeanor of a grieving parent.

“We’re here to ask some…” my voice trailed off as I saw the massive chandeliers and luxurious couches. Money and possessions.

“Are you from the FBI?” A girl about 10 approached me hesitantly. She had clearly been crying, and I got on my knees to talk to her.

“Yeah, I’m YFN and this is Spencer. We’re here to ask some questions.” I glanced over at the Mrs. Lorretta, who had suddenly abandoned her politeness.

The girl looked to her mom, who was giving her a death glare. The girl just turned and ran up the stairs.

“Ma'am, we’re to ask you about Jamie.” Spencer put his hands in his pockets. “Mind if we sit?”

Mrs. Lorretta picked the politeness act right back where she left off. “Yes, yes. Please sit.”

After a few minutes of awkward small talk, I went with the hard questions. “How did Jamie’s drug habits influence her? Did she have any enemies?”

Mrs. Lorretta’s mouth tightened in a straight line, and she looked between Spencer and I. “Well… um, I’m not sure. She wasn’t really home much… she’s always been distant with us. I never heard about any enemies, but she never talked to me much anyway.”

Over her shoulder, I saw the girl peeking behind the staircase. Spencer noticed it too, and tapped me on the leg.

“Excuse me, where’s the bathroom?” I kept my tone light and cheery. She pointed down a long hallway to my right, and I made a small motion to the girl to follow.

Once we were out of earshot, the little girl burst into quiet tears.

“Hey, what’s your name?” My voice was soft and I rubbed her shoulders.

“Lily,” she hiccuped through her sobs. “My dad was always so mean to Jamie…”

“What do you mean?”

Lily squeezed her eyes shut. “He would always go into her room… and I could hear him hitting her. They would fight all the time. He’s why she did drugs… she needed to escape from him.”

I lowered my voice even more. “Do you know who did this to her?”

She opened her eyes and sniffled softly. “I wasn’t surprised when the police found her body. It was only a matter of time before he… and I heard screaming coming from our shed in the backyard.”

“What’s going on here?”

Mr. Lorretta stood behind me, a smile looking like plastic on his face.

Money, power, ambition.

I smiled sweetly, patting Lily’s shoulder. “Oh nothing. I was looking for the bathroom and I just saw that she was upset. Your wife is answering some questions of my colleague’s, come join. I’m sure she’s being very helpful.”

In his eyes I saw an evilness that said that he would tear me to shreds given the chance. I turned away from him, beginning to walk down the long hallway back to Spencer.

I felt him pull my gun from its holster behind me, and he wrapped a strong arm around both of mine, his other hand pressing the cold barrel against my temple. “Move.” He growled in my ear.

Lily had taken off running, and as we moved closer, Mrs. Lorretta had taken hold of Lily in her arms.

Mr. Lorretta hissed at Spencer, who had his gun drawn at this point. “Think about this, Agent. Don’t want the blood of two people on your hands.”

I looked at Spencer, begging him to lower his gun. Not for me, but for Lily, who was still in her mother’s firm hold, a kitchen knife pressed to her throat.

The cold barrel of my own gun pressed into my temple, and all I wanted to do was kiss Spencer when he finally dropped his weapon.

“Honey, they’re federal agents. We can’t kill them,” the wife reminded her husband, who seemed torn on what to do now.

“Why did you carve ‘mine’ into your daughter’s skin?” I blurted.

He laughed softly in my ear, and I wanted to throw up. “Because she needed to know her place before I put her out of her misery. That was the only way she would understand. Do you know your place, Agent YLN?”

“You are in complete control here, Mr. Lorretta.”

“Damn right I am.” I felt him beat the barrel of the gun against my head, and I was out cold.

TAG LIST: @itsarayofsunshine @thesailbells @squirrellover1967 @softpeteparker @parkeroffline

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #dr reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds imagine

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astoldbycrimson · 5 years ago

Text

The Language of Love & Longing

Summary: Reader is a blind force sensitive Dathomirian (and kinda maybe a jedi). You don't know where you stand with Din Djarin, but another injury gives you the answer you need.

Just a heads up that I made up many parts of the reader's native language, Paecian, because we have only been given 2 words. So I took it upon myself to make stuff up as I go. And the reader is in place of my own character from this series I am writing. Feel free to ask questions if you want backstory. There is a lot of backstory missing from this.

Pairing: Mando/Din Djarin x Reader

Warnings: Violence, injuries, near death experiences, angst, and some fluff

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5

---------------------

Din was a man of action and little words. While his face was hidden beneath his helmet, his body language gave away his expressions. His tone, even with the modulator, conveyed his emotions. There was a way to read the mysterious Mandalorian and you felt you could decipher his code with ease now.

The hunter cared for you, that was obvious in the way he spoke a little softer and relaxed in your presence. In the way he always kept an eye on you while you were on solid ground, guiding you cautiously without giving your weakness away. How he worried about you during fights, sometimes a little more than necessary for what was once traveling companions.

You noticed how he'd tried to keep the ship tidy and in the way you had memorized it, to prevent you from stumbling or stubbing your foot. How there was a place for everything and everything was always in its place, so you could find exactly what you needed whenever you needed it.

Many of his acquaintances didn't give him enough credit, condemning him to be just another arrogant, disinterested hunter. While he was that way towards most others, he was quite soft and lively with you.

You constantly wondered where you stood with the Mandalorian. Were you together? Just close friends? Your answer changed daily because you honestly didn't know. Without Din explicitly stating how he felt, you'd never know for sure.

However, you did know that you were head over heels and in over your head. Fallen hard from where you had started. He had grown attentive to your needs, both biological and emotional. Din always made sure you had enough food to prepare a meal or two a day. Always ensuring you had access to clean water and a shower when you needed it. And all this just made you love him more.

As confident as you were in your own feelings, you shied from confronting him about it. You didn't want to make the situation awkward or uncomfortable to point that he'd have to ditch you at the next stop to avoid it all.

It wasn't until this last bounty that you finally started to piece things together.

The gunman had an advantage and was ready to strike, but you jumped in the way, taking several shots to the back and shoulder as your body shielded him from the assault. Then, without collapsing, you had called upon your saber and swiftly relieved the gunman of his head. And, high on adrenaline, you managed to headshot each of the lackeys with your blaster.

Once all enemies were accounted for, you turned to face Din, who was back on his feet. You raised a shaky hand to touch the side of his helmet. "I'm glad you're okay… mulovda." Then your eyes closed as you fell forward, right into his arms.

You heard him frantically call your name as you drifted into unconscious. You slipped in and out for a while after that, hearing bits and pieces of what your Mandalorian was saying as he rushed you back to the ship.

"Kriff, (Y/N). Stay with me—open your eyes. Kriff. (Y/N), hold on. Almost there. You—me now… You're all—left… Kriff. KRIFF. (Y/N), cyar'ika, please, I—you."

---------------------

It was a while before you finally regained consciousness. You laid still a moment as you felt the familiar rumble of the Razor Crest and the comforting presence of Din. You tried to sit up, eyes fluttering open, before you hissed in pain.

"Jyunta," you cursed, laying back down.

Din was by your side in an instant. "Careful, (Y/N). Just… stay there. Don't move just yet." There was obvious concern in his voice, as best as the modulator could manage, as his hand brushed your arm. "How're you feeling?"

"Like a herd of mudhorn ran me over, but I'll manage," you tried to laugh, but it hurt too much.

"Stop doing that!" He said with a little more force than was needed, than he intended, moving to pace around you.

"What? I can't crack jokes?"

Din took in a sharp breath before stopping to give you what you could only imagine was a glare. "Stop… making light of this."

"I'm wounded, not dead, Guns. It's not that big of a deal." You rolled your eyes at him.

You heard the hitch in his breath before a gloved hand collide with the wall beside you. "Haar'chak! Can you be serious about this for 5 seconds, (Y/N)? You could've died!"

You jumped at the sound. You hadn't seen Din like this... well, ever. Never heard him filled with so much anger. The sudden jolt of your body had elicited a groan of pain as your injuries made themselves known once more.

And with that he was back at your side, kneeling to check on you. "Kriff," he huffed, "I'm sorry, I…" He couldn't find the right words to say.

After a moment of tense silence, you finally opened your mouth. "I'm very aware of what could've happened, but that will never change how I handle things. I'm not gonna let you die, Din." You closed your eyes and turned your head away from him. "I won't apologize for what I did either."

Of course he didn't expect you to. You were as stubborn as you were strong. You had made a habit of protecting him. It was how you two came to be. But he didn't like you repeatedly putting yourself in danger either. Not for his sake. He didn't deserve that kindness. You didn't owe him your life…

But why was he so upset by all this? How could one woman boil his blood so much? And why did his heart stop every time you got hurt? Why did it beat so loudly when you smiled or laughed? Din couldn't comprehend how one person could have so much power over him. He had so many questions and so little answers.

"Moo...luvduh…?" He finally broke the silence. Din knew he was butchering the language of your people, but he needed to know.

This made your head snap back in his direction, eyes wide with curiosity. "Are you trying to say 'mulovda'?"

"You said that before you blacked out. What does it mean?"

You silenced immediately as your cheeks flushed. You didn't recall saying that at all. And knowing he remembered it made your heart pound. Your mind was racing, trying to decide if you should be honest with him or lie to hide it all. He'd have no way of knowing the real translation or if you were lying. You could easily make something up to cover your little slip up.

But, as much as you feared saying it aloud and knowing the implications, you didn't want to lie to him. Or rather, you couldn't. "It means… 'my love'…" you replied, voice barely a whisper as you looked away, cheeks flushing even redder than before.

Din remained quiet. He had thought it meant something like that, well, maybe he hoped it did. That maybe you cared for him that deeply. And as you had laid dying in his arms, he had voiced his own response. He couldn't deny his feelings any longer then, knowing that you may die on him… because you had protected him like his family had many many cycles ago.

You had always found the good in him. Despite all the bad he did as a bounty hunter, all the death and blood, you always saw him. The quiet, honest type. The armor clad hunter with a surprisingly soft heart. A man who'd been broken and was just trying to live despite it all. You saw all the parts of him that he had carefully hidden beneath the reflective metal of his armor.

Part of him worried about your words and the weight behind them. You were practically saying you loved him. Love meant closeness. Attachment. Vulnerability. Weakness. Those who wanted his life would mercilessly use you as a means to get to him. You would become his biggest weakness. Your love for him could ultimately be the death of you. Could he handle the weight of that? And if he couldn't… would he really be able to let you go?

"What does 'cyar'ika' mean?" You whispered, slowly turning back towards him after having endured minutes of deafening silence.

Din's cheeks flushed and his breath caught in his throat upon hearing that word. His heart hammered against his ribs at your perfect pronunciation. Like you'd been speaking his language your whole life. And despite having been gravely wounded, practically dying in his arms, you had managed to hear that single word and remembered it. Kriff. Maybe it was a sign from the Maker...

He opened and closed his mouth many times, eyes darting between you and his hands. "...Basically… it means...it's the Mando'a equivalent to… mulovda."

Your blind eyes widened and your cheeks glowed brighter than a newborn star. You raised a hand to touch the cold steel of his helmet, smile tugging at the edges of your tired face. "I like it. The way you say it... Can you call me that again?"

He felt as though someone had shot him straight through the chest. Like he was suddenly exposed to the entire world, without his helmet or armor to hide behind. The thought was utterly terrifying, but Din couldn't stop his hand from moving to cup yours. "Cyar'ika."

#the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #reader insert #the language of love & longing #mandalorian fanfic #the force that brought us together #din djarin / mando / the mandalorian #din djarin x reader

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ts-unsolved · 5 years ago

Text

Final Wrap-up for Chapter One

((since chapter one will be coming to a close shortly and there is still an assortment of questions left over, here is a masterpost of responses to queries that couldn’t be addressed during the story!

[reminder: the ask box will be left open, however the characters are not available. please keep in mind that non-plot related questions will not be answered by the characters after this post.]

Anonymous said: ((Just wanted to tell you your drawings are so pretty and I love ur blog. That is all I have no braincells to ask questions))

Anonymous said: OKAY MOD I JUST WANT YOU TO KNOW I LOVE THIS AU SO MUCH AND ITS SO COOL AND GOOD AND YOUR ART IS TOO!! sorry for caps I’m just excited

Thank you! Sorry I didn’t always get around to answering asks like this, but for every one that was sent in, I appreciated it with all my heart. You guys are angels 💖

Anonymous said: What is one haunted location you guys would really like to visit someday?

Poveglia is definitely the highest on the list for the notoriety alone, although they would likely never get the permission to go (the history in general is almost excessively horrible and tragic, so nothing good would come out of doing an episode there. Maybe it’d be good as a final-chapter type location? 🤔).

@anxious-fander-bean said: Hey Logan, have you ever tried swing dancing? It's really fun and good excersize! There's also a lot of bouncing and upbeat music, so Patton might enjoy it as well! ((I'm doing it. I need the qpp boys to be happy and have fun, bc they deserve it.))

(LOGAN: I’ll...consider it.)

You did it, you got them to go on some good ol’ platonic dates! B)

Anonymous said: I feel bad that I don't have any deep question or something along those lines, but what's your favorite thing to bake, Pat? - 💐

That’s alright! Questions don’t have to be deep to be fun/interesting.

(PATTON: Cupcakes! You can make so many different flavors, and there are tons of fun ways to decorate them!)

@why-should-i-tell-youu2 said: Why cant anyone else see the seal?

You need to have The Sight to be able to see demon sigils. Patton has this ability naturally, and Dee has it because Elliott taught it to him. Otherwise, Virgil and Roman would be the closest in terms of gaining this ability, but a scared/skeptical part of them is holding them back.

Anonymous said: My good dorks, is there a way to, I don’t know, get a better/more effective charm for your office? One that costs more than $10? -🍁

Anonymous said: Hey, Logan, potential naturalistic explanation for ya: depending on what the charm was made of, shifts in ambient room temperature could have caused minuscule expansions and contractions in the material that would eventually crack the charm. Do I believe my own explanation? Absolutely not. Am I grasping at straws for a non-supernatural explanation? Absolutely. And ambient room temperature doesn’t even begin to explain the red symbol around the charm

(LOGAN: Our budgeting is already a mess as it is, the last thing we need is to waste more funds on decorations. And that theory seems much more reasonable than the contrary explanation.)

Anonymous said: Is the demon that Pavreen summoned the same demon that possessed Elliott?

Anonymous said: Welp Virge SUMMONED A DEMON- (Why do I have a feeling Remy was the demon that possessed Elliot-)

Nope, they’re all different demons! The demon that Parveen summoned is notoriously difficult to contact, so a bunch of teenagers wouldn’t have been able to do it. Likewise for Remy; you can only summon him once you have his True Name, and he’s already destroyed most references to that (sorry Patton).

Anonymous said: omg omg omg what part of mythology is remy part of???

He’s not from any particular mythology, but he is partly based off of Alps from German folklore and the general mythology around sleep paralysis!

Anonymous said: Can Patton see supernatural beings like ghosts and demons and stuff? I just think it would be interesting if his scars make him able to see them :3c

Anonymous said: If both Dee and Patton can see the sigil, and Dee can see ghosts, does that mean Pat can see ghosts too? With the whole red glowing thing (forgot what its called) it seems to be connected.

Yes he can see ghosts/demons, and you’re right that the scars (or rather the deal with the demon which gave him his powers and scars) are what lead to him being able to do it. The red is just a general indicator of something supernatural/not of our Realm.

Anonymous said: Wait so if Patton and his family all have that mark could that mean Patton is not completely human 👀 -🌈

I supposed you could say that Patton’s not entirely human because he’s a witch who was born without a soul, but he’d find that pretty offensive tbh.

Anonymous said: Are Elliott and Patton maybe related, even distantly? Also, roman needs to suck it up and have Feelings for the Snake Man

There’s no relation between Elliott and Patton. Elliott is the child of a seer and a psychic, Patton is the son of witches. They’re similar, but different. (Also you’re assuming that Roman hasn’t liked the Snake Man since high school, but considered him off-limits because he’s his brother’s best friend).

Anonymous said: Does Patton know that Dee can see spirits and does Dee know that Patton is protecting them all?

Anonymous said: Dee, pat, do you know that each other can see the sigil?

Anonymous said: is ... is patton a witch and dee a dee-mon and that's why they don't like each other.....?

Anonymous said: Pat what do you think about making deals with demons?

They’re both aware of each other’s secrets! Technically they’re both doing their best to protect everyone, but that doesn’t mean they agree with each other’s methods or bond over the shared responsibility.

Patton is indeed a witch, and Dee is a regular human who happened to summon a demon one time. Patton thinks Dee is the occult equivalent of a satanist, which he disagrees with because dark magic is unnatural/dangerous in his eyes (making deals with demons only leads to trouble!), and would prefer Dee not endanger his friends. Dee doesn’t like Patton because of his perceived moral superiority, and finds the way he can be so secretive and two-faced creepy

Regardless, they’re both sitting in glass houses and have more in common than they think.

Anonymous said: Patton Should Hug Dee *

Maybe. But he won’t. 8′D

Anonymous said: Since Dee has been able to see ghosts for a long time, was he an open believer in ghosts before Elliot died? Since it was mentioned that the reason he lies about his belief is because he knows that they're dangerous, he wouldn't have had a reason to hide it in the past. And if he did are any of the others aware of the belief change? Well, besides Remus. I'm guessing that one is pretty obvious.

He may have been more involved as a believer in the past, though that doesn’t mean he was ever super open about it. He was aware of how it would look like to outsiders (being genuinely skeptical at one point himself), so he wasn’t going to paint a target on his back by talking about ghosts and demons and things most people can’t see.

Of course, that didn’t stop people from stereotyping and making those sorts of assumptions about their friend group anyway, but no one besides them really knew about their secret-- not even Virgil.

Anonymous asked: What would happen if one time, the gang ended up getting something supernatural on camera?

The result of that would depend on the being. Ghosts can kinda appear on camera, although it’s very rare for them to appear as a full bodied apparition, which is why they usually only manifest in spirit orbs or light/shadows. Poltergeists are better since they’re able to interact with objects, but likewise since they can’t manifest into a physical form they can easily be brushed off. Demons and other miscellaneous creatures will straight up not appear if captured directly on film; you’ll simply get video glitches and distortions.

So essentially, they may technically have found something already, but capturing evidence that’s also compelling is a lot more difficult than you’d think. I imagine there’s a good chance that anything legitimate wouldn’t get taken too seriously because of how easy it is to fake evidence nowadays.

Anonymous said: Okay so a little bit of a rant but not really ig but imagine the ladylike and unsolved crossover for this AU like I can see it as like Thomas' friends dressing up Roman and Dee in style and seeing a blushing mess and maybe flirting going on because of how good the clothing complements each other but this is kinda a weak idea lol

It’s not a weak idea at it, it’s really cute! (though I may just have a soft spot for the Ladylike cast and crossovers).

The only thing to note is that I’ve chosen not to include Thomas’ friends in this AU because I personally weird about writing fiction about real people? (I was on the fence about including character!Thomas for a while too, tbh). So, apologies to anyone who’s sent similar asks or wanted to see any of Thomas’ friends; they wont be around!

Anonymous said: Did Dee and Remus ever have that talk Dee said he would try to have a while back????

They might have gotten the opportunity to chat back when Remus came back to help shoot the Room 1046 video. It wouldn’t have been a complete reconciliation by any means (dealing with years of baggage in one sitting is Hard), but now Remus is aware that Dee is open to discuss things again at some point in the future, so progress!

Anonymous said: wait wHAT?! When did he (Emile Picani) die?? Give us the deets oh wise one

Anonymous said: emile is... dead? what happened?

I see y’all, but unfortunately you’re not getting any answers from me just yet! You’ll have to wait until the next chapter~.

Anonymous said: Shit is about to go down and I am worried about the next ghost "adventure"

:) Don’t Worry About It.))

#OOC #((that should be all the big questions!#i'll update this later if anything comes up))

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kutemouse · 5 years ago

Text

And Then He Was Gray (Part Two)

Disclaimer: I edited the pic I used for my header, but the OG pic belongs to BTS & BigHit. The pic below isn’t mine either. I obviously don’t own Balenciaga.

Age Recommendation: 21+ (Not just a recommendation, kuties!)

Warnings: Consumption of alcohol, Tae and JK being rowdy drunks, lonely angst that disappears when he comes into the story (I think you know who I’m talking about by now 😉), sexual tension, talk of sex, betting, SWEARZ 4 DAYZ, lotsa skin showing, bikinis!

Word Count: 1,626

Summary: Your best friend Jeon Soyeon invites you to a kick-back with all of her friends and their significant others, intent on hooking you up with someone. Everyone seems taken, though, until he arrives, wearing a star-studded, gray top that makes your mouth water.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

And Then He Was Gray (Jin One-Shot, Smut, Fluff) Part Two

At the mention of beer pong, everyone cheered in agreement and started inside with me taking up the rear. I smiled, seeing Soyeon and Miyeon’s hands still intertwined. I was happy for them, I really was… but I couldn’t help feeling a bit left out. It’d been a long while since I had a boyfriend, choosing to concentrate on my family’s business rather than my social life after high school. Still, I missed having someone by my side, someone to cuddle with and confide in… someone who understood me. And yet, I hadn’t had a date in over two years. All of the boys I knew seemed to be either taken or not into girls like me. Then again, I was picky as well. It took a special kind of man to catch my eye.

I nervously tugged at my gray skirt again as we went into the basement and sat on various couches and chairs situated around a tv and ping pong table. Taehyung and Jungkook set up the cups in pyramid formations on both sides, filling them nearly to the brim with beer once they were done.

“Alright, rules!” Taehyung shouted over the din. “Teams of two each, and we’ll rotate out so the next team plays the winner of each round. Whoever’s left standing will be crowned the ultimate beer pong champions!”

“So extra,” Soyeon muttered, rolling her eyes.

Taehyung smirked. “And just for you, So-So, I’m adding another rule. Bounce shots that sink means two cups to drink.”

Soyeon groaned amidst the chuckles that broke out. “Taehyung, you know I’m already the worst at beer pong, do you have to make it even harder for me?!”

Miyeon grabbed my best friend’s hand and leaned in close. “Don’t worry, I’m pretty good,” she said, rubbing her thumb soothingly over Soyeon’s fingers.

I felt a twinge of disappointment. I was hoping Soyeon and I would be a team, but it looks like I’d be the odd person out. “Whatcha all doing?” a voice said. I turned to see him for the first time, intently watching us from the doorway. His right arm stretched above his head as he rested his elbow easily on the doorframe. I swallowed hard as I noticed his gray, star-patterned shirt riding up just enough for me to catch a glimpse of a lean, toned torso and a peek of what appeared to be Balenciaga boxers. He leaned forward, a playful smirk on his full, pink lips, causing his shirt to ride up and his jeans to slide down even more. My lips parted unconsciously as heat flooded straight to my core.

I immediately knew I wanted a taste of that honey-toned skin and those cotton-candy lips. The guy’s piercing brown eyes caught mine and his smirk grew. Tingles broke out all over my body. Shit. He knew my secret. I don’t know how, but he knew.

He tore his gaze away from me as his friends greeted him. “Jin, fucking finally!” Namjoon said, standing up and clapping him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, we would’ve waited for you, hyung,” Taehyung pouted. “We’ve already started beer pong, and everyone has a team already.”

“Not everyone,” I said loudly. Everyone turned to look at me, Soyeon’s mouth dropping open in shock. Now that I think about it, I think this was the first time she’d ever seen me speak up in a public setting. I was normally pretty shy and reserved, keeping to myself and trying to not be a bother. Even I was astounded by my own behavior, but that look that he gave me… I just had to know. I had to know if he knew.

“Oh, that’s right,” Taehyung said weakly. “Y/n doesn’t have a team. Sorry Y/n, I didn’t realize we had an odd number.”

“That’s okay,” I said, shooting him a smile.

“Well, then,” Jin said. He stepped right in front of me, looking down at me sitting on the couch, hands shoved in his jean pockets. “Guess we’re a team.”

I blushed profusely as he sat down, making himself comfortable in the seat beside me and slinging an arm over to rest easily on top of the couch.

The first teams up were Tae and Yuqi versus Jungkook and Shuhua. The boys loudly trash-talked each other nearly the entire game, with the girls getting more and more giggly as more cups emptied. Finally, it was down to the last cup on Taehyung’s side, while Jungkook’s side had three cups left. “It’s over,” JK said, giving his hyung a wide, evil grin.

“Like hell it is,” Taehyung growled. “You got this, babe.”

Yuqi stepped up, swaying a little, and took her time lining up the shot. “Go Yuqi!” Shuhua cheered. “You can do it!”

Yuqi giggled then took the shot. It bounced off the rim of the cup, eliciting groans from everyone, including her boyfriend. “Awww, babe, don’t worry though, it’s okay,” Taehyung said, tugging his girlfriend close and brushing his nose against hers. “If we get out this round, we can go do something else that’s fun.”

“Oh hell no,” Jungkook said, pointing at Taehyung. “If I find you guys fucking in my bed, or anywhere else in this house, I will kick you out. I’m serious, Tae.”

“What if we promise to wash the sheets?” Taehyung said, waggling his eyebrows.

“Get the fuck out,” Jungkook retorted with a grin, pointing at the door.

“Okay, okay, let’s make things interesting,” Taehyung said, holding his hands up. “If you miss this next shot, you can’t say another word about what Yuqi and I do and where… but if you make it, Yuqi and I won’t touch a single bed in this place.”

“Or couch, or chair, or counter, or table.”

“Fine,” Taehyung said, rolling his eyes.

Jungkook lined up the shot, making us all hold our breath in anticipation. He tossed the ball, and I swear, the rest of us followed its entire trajectory with our eyes until it landed… hit the rim of the cup… and bounced off.

Taehyung roared in approval, grabbing Yuqi by the waist and spinning her around, while Jungkook sank to the floor in mock-defeat and Shuhua laughed her ass off. I was giggling at their exchange when Jin leaned over and murmured something in my ear. “I think we can easily take whoever wins.”

His breath tickled and I leaned away instinctively. “Yeah, maybe,” I muttered before clearing my throat.

I saw a trace of disappointment in Jin’s eyes at my reaction, but before I could question it, he blinked and it was gone, replaced by a laughing smile as he surveyed the drama in front of us. Taehyung may have won the bet, but Shuhua sunk the last shot, winning the game overall. “Alright, who’s next?!” Jungkook practically yelled.

“This is boooooring,” Soyeon drawled. “Don’t you guys have a pool? We brought our swimsuits, you know.”

I blinked. We did?

Jungkook and Taehyung looked at each other. “Pool it is,” Tae said, shrugging. “I needed an excuse to get naked anyway.”

Everyone groaned and Namjoon even chucked a pillow at Taehyung. “Shut the fuck up, dude,” he said, shaking his head.

“C’mon,” Soyeon muttered, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me up. “Shuhua has a bunch of stuff here. She’ll have something that’ll fit you.”

I followed my best friend down the hallway into what looked like a guest bedroom. She threw open a door to a walk-in closet filled with womens’ clothing, opening one of the drawers and rifling through it. “This is all Shuhua’s?” I gasped.

Soyeon shrugged. “Yeah. She stays here for weeks at a time since she lives kinda far away. Jungkook’s parents are cool with it because he keeps telling them they’re gonna get married.”

“Are they?”

“Eventually. They’ve been together since high school and are still hot for each other. I doubt they’ll be breaking up any time soon.”

“Must be nice,” I said absentmindedly.

My best friend turned to look at me. “Hey, you’ll find someone,” she said, stopping her search and reaching out to grab my hand. “In fact, I think that someone is here tonight. Did you see the way Jin looked at you?”

I shrugged uncomfortably. “I guess.”

Soyeon rolled her eyes. “Y/n. We have been trying so hard to find a girl Jin likes. I’ve introduced him to every acquaintance I have and then some,” she said. “He’s never looked at any of them the way he looked at you, let alone said more than two words to them.”

I frowned. “You’ve never introduced him to me.”

“Yeah, because he’s kind of a douchebag,” she said. “He treats girls like tissues… you know, use once then throw away? I think my best friend can do better.”

“Wait, then why are you now so intent on hooking us up?”

“Because,” Soyeon sighed, turning back around and rifling through the drawer once more. “At this rate, even if it’s only a one-night stand, it’s a win in my book.”

“Wow, thanks,” I scoffed.

“Hey, if getting laid by a smoking-hot, drop-dead gorgeous guy like Jin brings your sex drive back into play, then so much the better for you,” she retorted, tossing a couple pieces of fabric at me. “Wear this.”

I held them up to the light. “No,” I said firmly. The bikini was a pretty, bright turquoise, but it was so… flimsy. I’d feel totally naked wearing this. The top wore like a sports bra with straps criss-crossing in the front to show off some cleavage. The bottoms would be normal except one side was made entirely of straps, dipping towards my core in a provocative way.

“Fuck no.”

Soyeon tossed me a wide, mischievous smile. “Fuck yes.”

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Y'all remember this?!?! I straight up died when this pic dropped. I stared at it quite frequently when I needed some inspiration for this one-shot. Enjoy suffering with me 😈 Here’s Part Three!

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ikenbar · 4 years ago

Text

Mr. Love: Ike’s Choice Ch2 Pt 7

Warnings: I say the word “hell” as a curse so... cursing?, angst, likely some grammar mistakes, and cliffhangers

AS A HEADS UP: All of the characters in this part, Except Gavin of course, are ones that I’ve made up. Just in case you go looking for them in the game or accuse me of anything. These characters are all made up by me. Except Gavin. But that’s kinda a give in lol

(Chapter two’s prologue, parts one, two, three, four, five, and six here :))

((Please read the author’s note (and the beginning of the story) on chapter one part one if you’re new here :D))

Chapter two:

Part seven:

It had been a couple of days since I had heard from Gavin. After that night I had sent him off with the remaining soup, even though he tried to refuse, and we exchanged numbers. He promised me that he would call and let me know what the next move would be. He hadn’t called. I didn’t even hear him come back from work the next night. I had knocked on his door but no one answered. Gavin could just be doing this to mess with me. Or he got all the information he needed from me and he left me behind… or something was up and Gavin was in trouble. No matter what it was, I had promised myself that if I hadn’t heard from him by the end of the day, I would stop by the station after work. So I did just that.

I walked up to the front desk and addressed the receptionist, “I’m here to see Officer Gavin. We are working a case together and I haven’t heard from him in a bit. Is he in today?”

“I haven’t seen him come in today.” She answered vaguely, “But I will tell Captain Michaels you are here. He might give you an answer.” I huffed, annoyance growing in my chest, “You are welcome to wait by Gavin’s desk.” The receptionist added with a patient smile, “I’ll let the chief know that he can meet you there.” I sighed and nodded.

I stood at Gavin’s desk anxiously, looking around the room. I had been there for quite a while. He had to be there. It was a work day. I put my rising nerves to work as I looked through the miscellaneous folders he had there. There wasn’t even a trace of him. No mug of coffee or note. Not even the files on his desk looked recent. There had to be something that would tell me where he was.

“Ike!” A familiar voice pulled my head away from Gavin’s desk. Captain Michaels approached me with open arms. I folded my arms, cutting off any chance of a hug.

“Captain.” I addressed him, masking the worry in my chest with my infamous poker face.

“You’re back so soon!” Captain Michaels dropped his arms but still held a pleasant smile, “How was the mission?” A pit formed in my stomach.

“Mission?” I asked quickly, dropping my arms, “What mission?”

“The undercover mission?” the captain asked slowly, “The one that Gavin asked permission to go on.”

“Undercover?!” I couldn’t believe my ears. Gavin left to the bar without me? What was he thinking? He knew I had the Intel he needed for it! How could he just leave me behind like that?!... How could I have believed that he wouldn’t have done any less?

“He told me he would bring you.” Captain Michaels’ voice became serious, “Did he not tell you?” I felt anger rising in my chest. With no other way to exert it, I punched Gavin’s desk, leaving a large dent in the wood. “...I’ll take that as a no.” Captain Michaels said quietly, “I’ll call the phone I gave him. Maybe he can give us a straight-”

“Don’t bother.” I growled. Self deprecating thoughts crowded my mind. How could I have thought that he had changed? How could I have thought he wanted to change? I was right. He just wanted to use me for my information. He never wanted to be partners. I never should have dropped my guard like that. None of that mattered though.

“What are you planning to do?” The captain asked.

“If Gavin doesn’t want me as a partner then so be it.” I moved some files to cover the dent in the desk, “But no one leaves Ikamara Bikira behind and gets away with it. No one.” I brushed past Captain Michaels and marched to the exit.

“Be careful, Ike!” The captain called back, “You might throw the mission!”

“The only thing I’m throwing is Gavin off the roof!!” I called back, slamming the door behind me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Night had fallen by the time I had driven to the warehouse. The area was abandoned except for a large, familiar figure leaning against the wall in the alley. “Well well well.” The figure’s voice was gruff and deep, “If it isn’t the Ikamara Bikira.”

“Hey, Richy.” I shoved my hands in my pockets as I approached the voice. The figure was a thirty something year old man, dressed in a black zip up hoodie with a white shirt and black tie underneath it. He had black jeans and worn down high tops. He was the gatekeeper for The Wall, Richy.

“It’s been a while!” Richy’s voice was low as he straightened himself against the wall, “Why don’t you visit anymore?!”

“Believe it or not, Richy, I’ve got a life. And a business. And a family. Spending my free time with criminals at the dead of night isn’t the best way to maintain all of that.”

“D’aw, are you saying you don’t trust us?”

“I’m saying that if I spend too much time with you, I’m going to lose it all. And with nothing to hold me back, there would be no stopping me.” I hit each syllable hard to make my point clear to the gatekeeper. The look on his face told me he got the message, “Can I go in? I need a drink.”

“You know the drill.”

I rolled my eyes. “Is this really necessary? You know me by name.”

“No exceptions.” Richy folded his arms and stood powerfully before me, “Password.”

“Open sesame.” I sarcastically answered.

“Password.” Richy insisted.

"Ugh, fine.” I sighed, “'You can't cuff what you can't catch.'” Richy nodded and knocked the wall behind him. “You know, the term 'password' suggests that it is just one word. Maybe you should say passphrase instead." Richy ignored me as the wall behind him made a loud clicking noise. A large section of the wall was forced backwards, revealing a hallway behind it. Fog flowed dramatically from it as a purple light shone through the alley. "You added fog since I've been gone." I said as I watched the mist swirl around my legs, "Nice touch."

"It was Madison's idea." Richy sounded disgruntled. Chuckles Madison was the owner of The Wall. His father owned the place before him but, after his arrest, it was passed down to his son. Madison tended to be on the more dramatic side and added an edge to the pub that made the atmosphere all the more attractive. He even introduced entertainment to the pub and asked me to perform. Normally I would say no but he offered free drinks. How could I refuse a free drink?

"I think it brings the place together." I walked closer to the door.

"Are you performing tonight?" Richy asked, stopping me from going in.

"Not tonight. I'm just here for a drink and a conversation with Madison."

"Bummer. It's been awhile since you've been on stage. People have been asking where you have been."

"Maybe next time." I waved Richy off as I walked through the hole in The Wall.

"You'd better do it soon!" Richy called back to me before the doors shut, "Someone might take your title as Champion!"

I rolled my eyes as I walked into the dark room. I pushed past a large veil of beads and was immediately hit with the pungent smell of booze and sweat. Strobe lights flashed past my eyes and loud techno music blasted from every corner of the room. The room was crowded with dancing and intoxicated people. Most were screaming with the music. Others were screaming at each other. Chairs and tables were scattered about the room but none of them were occupied. Everyone was moving. The amount of action that was happening was almost disorienting. It really had been awhile since I had been there.

I pushed past the crowd of people aggressively. Some looked as if they wanted to protest, but after taking one look at who I was, they wimped out. I approached the bar and waved the bartender over to me. "Well would you look at that!" The bartender said, grabbing a glass as he confronted me, "The Champion returns! You performing tonight?"

"No, I need to talk to Madison." I began to grow impatient, "Have you seen-"

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" A loud voice boomed from over the speakers, cutting me off and only aggravating me further. The music and the lights shut off entirely and excited chattering moved throughout the crowd, "I KNOW YOU ALL HAVE BEEN TIRED AND BUSY TAKING THE WORLD BY STORM, BUT IT IS TIME TO RELAX! IT IS TIME TO PUT YOUR LEGS UP AND LET US DO THE WORK! IT IS TIME TO BE ENTERTAINED!!"

Spotlights flashed on and lit up the back of the room. A wrestling rink stood glistening under its light. Red ropes outlined the outside of the stage. The floor of the stage was scuffed and dented from the performances that had been made there. In the middle of a stage stood a man sporting a large flamboyant pose while holding a hanging microphone. He was a lean man, dressed in a long fur coat that was dyed bright purple. Under it was a black crop top that matched with tight black tights and huge combat boots. His ears were pulled apart by dramatic gauges and various piercings. His hair was buzzed and bleached blond. His face looked as if it could be porcelain from his flawless makeup. With dark eyeliner and colorful eye shadow that surrounded his bright blue eyes and a glittery dark lip gloss made his lips look like an oil spill, he looked fake. Like a cartoon character who had escaped the television.

"Found him." The bartender leaned close to me and whispered in my ear. He handed me a drink. I glared at him and took the drink as Madison continued his speech.

“Criminals and criminettes, we have a very special surprise for you! Coming all the way from his life sentence in prison, our has-been champion, the towering colossus, Legon!!” The crowd cheered wildly. Something large moved in the dark by the stage. With a few steps into the light, he revealed himself. He towered over most of the patrons at the bar and was able to get onto the stage with one step. This man’s arms and face were covered in scars from past fights but he covered most of them with dark tattoos. He was bald but in the most intimidating way possible. This man was Legon. He was the bar’s reigning champion until I came along. He was supposed to be in jail for a large list of serious offences. The worst of which being murder. The thought of putting him back in jail teased my mind. Maybe I could show up Gavin one last...

Gavin.

The twisted feeling in my stomach returned. He wasn’t anywhere in the bar. Where was he? Did I misjudge him after all?

“And his unfortunate competitor is our latest addition to the team!” Madison continued and snapped me out of my troublesome thoughts, “On a winning streak, hot from the streets, standing at five nine and holding a punch that could knock out a lion, Solomon!!” Boos swept from every corner of the bar as a man jumped on to the stage. I choked on my drink.

It was Gavin.

He stood proudly on the stage. He wore a tank top, revealing old and fresh scars. His hands were wrapped but I could tell from the way he was holding them that they were tender. His determined expression unsuccessfully masked the exhaustion in his eyes. Did he really fight all those people? And did he stay all day yesterday to do it? The Wall had fights every five hours. If Gavin had left yesterday morning…

A wave of pure anger flushed over my body. Unable to control it, I broke the glass in my hand. “Woah!” The bartender protested, “Someone’s unwilling to lose their title of champion.” I ignored the bartender and quickly left the bar. “Hey!” The bartender called, “You’ve gotta to pay for that!”

“Put it on my tab!” I shouted back through bared teeth. The bartender visibly recoiled and shut up. I marched to the stage where the warriors were stretching, preparing for battle. A hot feeling burned in my chest as I neared Gavin but it wasn’t the same hot feeling that I had that night we flew together. It didn’t melt my heart the way it did that night.

It burned it.

I could feel it shrivel and harden the longer I looked at that stranger standing on the stage. I felt my hands shake slightly under the anger I was holding. I needed to relax. If I didn’t, I would rip off his head. Breathe Ike, breathe. I found myself thinking, It’s probably not what you think it is. I took a long deep breath before tapping on Gavin’s leg. He looked down at me. Our eyes met and the anger I had started repressing rekindled. A glare escaped my poker face.

“Ike?” Gavin was genuinely shocked to see me there. Meaning he really didn’t want me to find him. The burning in my chest slowly started creeping through my body.

“Solomon, was it?” I asked through bared teeth. Gavin looked taken-aback. As if me being angry was alarming to him. Soon the look of surprise melted into an undercernable emotion. He opened his mouth but his voice didn’t leave it.

“What’s this?!” A booming voice came over the loudspeakers, “A surprise competitor?!” Madison skipped over to us with a wide, gapped tooth smile, “Lads and Lasses, our champion has returned!!” A loud cheer swept over the crowd. Madison approached me and held out his hand, ushering me to come on stage. I waved him off.

“I’m not here to fight.” I spoke with determination, “I came to talk to you.”

“You know how it is, darling.” Madison covered the mic so only I could hear him, “You want something from me, you fight.”

“Really?” I rolled my eyes, “Come on, Madison. It’s important!”

“No exceptions!” He grinned wildly, “Pick your competitor!”

I shook my head, “This is serious, Madison. Lives are at stake.”

“She just doesn’t want to compete against me.” Gavin spoke up and put on a phony smile. The way he held himself had changed too. He stood proudly and with his hips at his sides. His grin was cocky and out of place compared to the rest of him. He wasn’t Gavin anymore, he was this supposed Solomon, “She heard about my streak and is afraid of me.”

“Oh ho!” Madison cackled, “Someone’s feeling lucky tonight!”

“Not now, prick.” I said seriously, avoiding his eyes.

“Come on! Why are you being so selfish?” Solomon’s words, though playful, felt like a knife to my back. How could Gavin, of all people, call me selfish?! Does he have any idea what he put at risk by coming here?! By leaving me behind!? He could have died! But he had to leave. He had to abandon me because he was done with me. Because he hated me. Because he was a good for nothing cop. Well, I was done with being left behind. This time, I was going to do something about it.

“Him.” I thrust my finger at Solomon, “I’ll fight him.”

“Wonderful!” Madison sang happily as I jumped onto the stage, avoiding his outstretched hand. Madison turned back to the crowd and brought the mic to his mouth, “There will be a change of plans, folks! Instead of Legon, we have a new competitor! Someone who needs no introduction, The Wall’s reigning champion, Cicatrix!!” The crowd roared with applause as I faced them.

“Cicatrix?” Solomon held his playful grin as he made eye contact with me. “A bit cheesy, isn’t it?”

“I’m not going to justify the name that was given to me.” I snapped. I couldn’t seem to stop my jaw from clenching. Solomon seemed to finally catch on to my serious tone.

“You’re... really angry at me, aren’t you?” Gavin returned as he let his guard down. Rage pulsed through my body once again. I closed my eyes and turned away from him as I pushed the rage back in my chest. He didn’t know what he did. He didn’t know how badly he hurt me…

No.

He didn’t care enough to notice.

“No more talking.” I could feel the heat of the anger in my heart spilling from my mouth and into my words, “The only thing I want to hear from you is your pleads for mercy.” I pulled my eyes away from him and walked to the corner Legon was in. One look was all Legon needed to hurry out of the ring.

I stretched as I stood in the vacant corner, hoping that was enough to mask my shaking hands. I tried to keep my eyes from Gavin before the fight but I couldn’t help myself. I snuck a peak at him from across the stage. Gavin was stretching as well but he wasn’t putting much effort into it. He was staring at the floor blankly and… painfully. I rolled my eyes. If he had regret then he shouldn’t have left me behind. I signaled to Madison that I was ready. I finally got the chance to teach someone a lesson about leaving Ikamara Bakira behind and there was no chance in hell that I was going to waste it.

(Next)

#Mlqc gavin #mlqc #mlqc fanfiction #mlqc angst #mlqc oc #oof the angst is a foot #and also at hand #oooh ya boi just did that #sorry lol #still grieving #pray for me lol

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squidshadow · 5 years ago

Text

[[MORE]]

thats summ3r in the middle of makomart when shes giving herself a stress-induced pep talk about how bad the economy is but that doesnt mean love is fake and life is too short to waste it and yes shes too poor to buy this macaroni but that doesnt mean her HEART is too poor to LOVE WOMEN and shes kinda mumbling beneath her breath about it because she thinks shes alone but then theres a family of like a middle-aged woman and her three kids and summ3r apologizes loudly and her voice cracks and she shoves the macaroni in the basket she has and walks off as confidently as she can and then when she goes to pay the cashier is really cute and shes like shit i should have gone to the self-checkout line instead and when the cashier says something about joining the club membership thing summ3rs like "thanks, you too" and then it clicks and she just starts crying and the cashier is being paid minimum wage and she really doesnt deserve this and summ3r know this so she keeps mumbling apologies and she pays and pretends that she isnt crying and on the receipt that she looks over when shes in the car the macaroni was 500c when the only other thing she went in there for was 200c and god she doesnt have the money for this what the fuck was she thinking and she goes home and makes the macaroni and she cant even enjoy it because she 1. burnt it and 2. she only has 72c left in her bank account now and when she tries to go to sleep she thinks of every time she fucked up socially in public with stupid blunders like that so she just never falls asleep

and then summ3r goes into work the next day because thats all she really does and jarrett said she could take the day off if she wanted to and summ3r really wanted to but the taste of macaroni still clings to her mouth and it tastes like disappointment and the 72c left in her bank account so shes waiting for her shift to start and justins talking about something but she tuned him out a while ago and she was thinking that weed should come in cigarettes and thatd be a great idea and as she chews on her cigarette she remembers weed is illegal in the octarian-atramentonian union which sucks so she wonders if she can move to another country where she can get legally baked but 1. shes really poor and 2. weed highs arent even that great anyways, and then later that day when shes actually working shes really having a horrible time because she poured hot coffee on her hand and the customers keep yelling at her and she really doesnt get paid enough for this and then the fucking cashier from yesterday comes in and summ3r makes eye contact with her and she wants to cry and then the cashier comes up to the counter because thats what she does

and then her order is really complicated and long and bad like theres seven pumps of pumpkin spice in this and its tea but whatever summ3r doesnt have to drink it even though shes judging her immensely and then when summ3r asks for a name the cashier says lusīl and summ3r assumes its lucille so she writes that and lusīl pretty obviously has that disappointed look on her face of "my name was misspelled by a white girl inkling" and summ3r really wants to apologize but she cant and then when summ3r tells her to enjoy her drink lusīl says "you too" and she looks mortified and summ3r thinks its maybe much cuter than it should be and as lusīl sits down at a table to go drink her horrible pumpkin spice tea summ3r hears her swearing beneath her breath and anyways summ3r has a crush now and she doesnt like it because shes too poor to deal with one so when shes on break she cries when she smokes two cigarettes at once and she resolves to move to jellia where she can face hate crimes but also be stoned

so summ3r goes to makomart again after quietly asking her mom for money after a few weeks of radio silence which her mom does give her and summ3r should really call her mom more but most times shes just way too tired to do so that or her phones dead but regardless shes at makomart and she wants to self care a little as the chumblr kids do so she buys a box of macaroni and the noodles are shaped like fresh fish and summ3r knows they wont look like fresh fish when theyre cooked and the fun shape ones taste worse than the others but its okay because summ3r is quite frankly a little high right now (which is sarahs fault not hers) and shes not really thinking about things like "not being broke" and "the fact that shes singing the veggiefishtales theme song loudly in makomart" but anyways shes trying to go the self-checkout line but its way too long and the 8th checkout thing is so much shorter than that which summ3r thinks is fun and funky and cool and she really wants some fucking 'ronis right now and shes so excited for that and then lusīl is the cashier again and she says hi and summ3r immediately feels herself sober up in this weird way that cant be described beyond "what the fuck"

and so summ3r places her box of macaroni on the conveyor belt (which should have a better name, in her opinion) and lusīl laughs and says they really shouldnt be running into each other so often and summ3r laughs also and cries internally and apologizes externally and lusīl says she didnt mean it like that and shes sorry and then summ3r apologizes for misinterpreting it and then lusīl apologizes for not being clear enough and it goes back and forth a little bit and the line is really long now and summ3r still only bought 5 objects and it shouldnt have taken this long and summ3r leaves with a "bye! i like your face!" and lusīl blushes and calls "yeah, yours is nice too!" after her and summ3r decides that god is real and then goes home and wants a cigarette but she didnt buy any so now she just feels stupid and bad and gay

so summ3r works again because thats just what she does its like her whole life is just go to work, smoke 3 cigarettes at once, think about lusīl, get high, smoke a cigarette, lay face-down in the shower, smoke another cigarette, overcook some pasta, fall asleep, wake up, go to work, smoke 4 cigarettes at o

but lusīl comes in again and she gets the same drink and summ3r still doesnt know how to spell her name because she just doesnt so instead of lucille she spells it like loocille and lusīl laughs at it when she sees the cup and summ3r laughs also because lusīl is really cute and when she gives it to her summ3r tells her to "enjoy your drink, lucy" and summ3r is screaming internally and lusīl is blushing like a lot and so lusīl stammers back "YEAH YOU TOO" and she turns to walk out very rapid and walks face-first into the wall and now summ3r feels really bad because maybe lucy is a slur in octarian or something so she rushes over to help her and theres tea all over the ground and when she goes to wipe it up they both reach for the same napkin and their hands brush and then summ3r laughs and lusīl looks like she just had a life-changing experience and then they just kinda stay there for a bit and then summ3r realizes that theyre just standing there and theres tea all over the ground and they both apologize at the same time and summ3r gets filled with the scandalous desire to shove her tongue in lusīls mouth which is gross and lusīl is probably straight anyways

but once the tea is cleaned summ3r offers to make her another drink and lusīl chokes out "YEAH OKAY" and summ3r asks what shed like and lusīl orders 8 pumps of pumpkin spice with ketchup and summ3r quietly asks if shes sure and lusīl looks like shes pleading for death but she nods anyways so summ3r makes it nonetheless and lusīl looks really disappointed when she gets her drink but she thanks her anyways and when lusīl actually walks out of the building, the second the door closes summ3r hears her yell loudly in frustration

anyways later that day summ3r stops at a gas station to buy some cigarettes because she wants some and then she runs into lusīl there, not that she works there or something, she was kinda there, and so summ3r asks her if she liked her ketchumpkin spice latte which was a really bad joke but lusīl starts laughing uproarously once she realizes what summ3r said and yeah sex is cool but have you ever made a pretty girl laugh in a gas station and so riding off that high summ3r asks what shes doing here and lusīl quietly replies with "buying gas" which admittedly makes a lot of sense, maybe too much sense, and summ3r wonders if she could flush herself down the toilet

but then lusīl asks what summ3rs doing here and summ3r cant just say shes going to buy 3 packs of cigarettes becauses thats her coping mechanism of choice so she lies and says shes also getting gas and so lusīl offers to walk her to her car but summ3r walked here because its like right down the block from her apartment and now summ3r feels stupid so she says its okay and then offers to walk lusīl to her car and then it goes back and forth a lot and then they pause and kind of realize the stupidity of it all and start laughing again and lusīl mumbles "youre really cute" and summ3rs entire being short-circuits so she shifts into a squid and just lies there

and lusīl asks if shes okay and then summ3r doesnt know what to say so then lusīl shifts into octopus form and theyre just laying there, vibing, and then an employee finds them and quietly asks them to not do that and then they shift back and go seperate ways and summ3r doesnt buy anything and shes still having nicotine cravings and all she has is weed so she just smokes that and doesnt feel any better in the end

#long post #.txt #drug tw #smoking tw

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itsclydebitches · 5 years ago

Text

I consider taking angsty prompts and turning them into absurd fluff to be a specialty of mine~

Wretched

Aziraphale had always had a soft spot for children’s books. One wouldn’t think it based on the antiques and religious texts crowding up the shop, but if you took your time and wandered all the way to the back you’d find a sizable collection waiting, enhanced by the occasional plush and toy truck. They were mostly books from the mid-18th and 19th century, didactic texts with (surprise, surprise) religious bents. A Little Pretty Pocket-Book Intended for the Instruction and Amusement of Little Master Tommy and Pretty Miss Polly had been a long time favorite of his, both for the brightly colored paper it was bound in and the absurdly long title by contemporary standards.

The History of Little Goody Two-Shoes. The New England Primer. Millions of Cats. Peter Rabbit, The Secret Garden, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland...that was about as modern as Aziraphale was willing to go—for now at least—with the exception of one co-authored series from the 1990’s.

“The Bailey School Kids,” Crowley read. He flipped through one at random, eyes already skittering away from lack of interest. The cover got an amused snort though. “Dracula Doesn’t Drink Lemonade? Wouldn’t mind showing that to old Bram sometime.”

“You’re welcome to take that copy if you ever pop back downstairs.”

“Isn’t he with your lot?”

“Can’t quite recall anymore.” Aziraphale’s fingers skimmed the spines until he found the book he was looking for. With a dramatic flourish he showed off this cover too: a glowing woman performing a kick in front of four children.

Crowley’s lips twitched. “Angels Don’t Know Karate.”

“I’ll admit this one certainly doesn’t.”

“‘She’s too good to be true!’ Well they got that part right at least.”

Crowley’s admiration was rarely verbal. He preferred actions over words and when something did come tumbling out it was quickly followed by an insult for balance. You’re so clever. How can someone as clever as you be so stupid, and so forth. Thus, Aziraphale waited for the blow and instead felt his cheeks heating when all Crowley did was glance up over his glasses, eyes soft. He’d bent to get a look at the book and having him in such a, ahem, submissive position did nothing to calm Aziraphale’s racing heart.

What absurdities human bodies were. His palms had begun to sweat so badly that Aziraphale feared he’d do damage to the pages.

Yet when he dropped one hand to brush against his trousers he found it caught halfway, Crowley’s fingers ensnaring his, right at the tips. He drew Aziraphale’s knuckles to his mouth and placed a kiss there, reverent.

“Too good by far,” he murmured.

“Oh,” and Aziraphale was floundering, choking a bit, trying to put the book down and pull Crowley forward all at once until they were simply a mess of limbs and laughter. They finally succeeded and as Aziraphale bent to press his own kiss into the hollow of Crowley’s throat he forgot the reason he’d brought him over here in the first place.

I was making a joke, he thought faintly. Then Crowley took his face between his hands and Aziraphale forgot that too.

***

It came to him thirty hours later when a stray cat nearly upended itself into a drain in its attempt to get away from Crowley.

That was it. The Bailey series was missing a title: Demons Don’t Keep Pets.

“Wretched beast,” Crowley muttered and Aziraphale kindly ignored that the words were spoken in the same tone as, ‘I’m not nice’ and ‘That’s ridiculous,’ and ‘Shut up, angel.’

“We merely startled the poor thing,” Aziraphale said. He kept his eyes straight ahead.

“Shut up, angel.”

Hmm.

Spending time in the company of demons resulted in all sorts of odd, but really quite predictable outcomes. The stench of sulfur and chlorine was a given. Aziraphale had long ago ceased trying to cover up Crowley’s scent with any human-made creations and after the first couple of hundred years he’d forgotten why he’d wanted to in the first place. Minor mischief was another. Not anything planned, demons simply had a sort of... bad luck that surrounded them. Minor falls, forgotten words, and lost socks followed them everywhere. There was the expected gravitation towards warmer climates—many were cold blooded by nature—and the inevitable itch to groom one’s wings once the encountered concluded. Though that was due more to self-comparative embarrassment than anything the demons actually did.

And then there were the animals. Needless to say, creatures of Earth didn’t take kindly to demonic entities from the literal depths of hell.

Over their multi-millennium friendship (Courtship, Aziraphale silently corrected himself, experiencing a little thrill) he had seen Crowley interact with every animal imaginable. Or rather, unintentionally terrorize every animal imaginable. Cats, as established, had enough sense to get out of his way. Dogs were a little dumber, but that just resulted in shaking, whimpering, and a pungent mess on the floor. The Bentley was beloved not only for it style, but the freedom it had afforded him. Over the years Aziraphale had watched Crowley get bucked off of horses, camels, donkeys, mules, and on one memorable occasion an elephant. Though there were upsides too, of course. This particular body was quite susceptible to bug bites, though Aziraphale never needed to worry about such things when on a dusk stroll with Crowley. In decades past a visit from him had been more than enough to scare off the rats and cockroaches plaguing Aziraphale’s home. Squirrels and other rodents never bothered them while eating outside. Birds wouldn’t dare to defecate anywhere in their presence (smarter than the dogs then). It had taken a hundred years for the ducks of St. Jame’s Park to become accustomed to their routine... and even today they very obviously only ate the bread on Aziraphale’s side of the pond.

In short, there was a reason that poor unicorn had bolted the moment Crowley come on the scene.

“You’re thinking about how I’m responsible for the extinction of the unicorns, aren’t you?”

Aziraphale faltered only briefly. Uneven pavement. Such a danger. “Not at all, my dear.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Zira.”

“I am quite accomplished in the art due entirely to your influence. Now hush and enjoy the sunset.”

Crowley grumbled, but slipped his hand into Aziraphale’s when they just so happened to brush. They did enjoy the sunset while strolling back from dinner and as they did not a single mosquito, bird, or daring cat came their way.

***

Crowley would have dearly loved to have a pet.

He’d never said as much, not even at their most inebriated, but the desire was clear as day to Aziraphale. Put aside how well they knew one another; Aziraphale was, quite literally, a being meant to understand and exhibit love, someone who could feel it in all its forms. He knew that Crowley loved animals with the same surety that he knew Crowley loved children. And him. The duck obsession, the drunken worry for all the ocean’s creatures, they were just neon signs pointing to an already obvious statement.

Aziraphale had briefly thought that Dog was the answer. Who better to love a demon than a hell hound? Sadly, a visit to the Young household established that Adam had been a bit too thorough in transforming Dog into a normal dog. The puddle on the family room rug had created quite the stir.

So, with Armageddon two weeks behind them and all the freedom to do as he pleased, Aziraphale went shopping.

“Angel, when you said you’d gotten me a present...” Crowley’s mouth worked for a moment, seeming to taste a whole lot of words before rejecting all of them. “Weeellll. Kinda thought it was another stuffy old book.”

“You love when I give you stuffy old books.” Aziraphale had seen the small collection in Crowley’s apartment, as loved as anything else in that minimalist space.

“Is this a stuffy old book then?”

Crowley pointed to the box. The box moved.

“No, dear.”

In truth Crowley already knew what was inside. He could no doubt smell it, but he went through the motions of surprise all the same. Aziraphale watched how hard he swallowed and the shake in his hands as he pulled back the flaps.

“...You got me a snake,” he said and Aziraphale smiled at how wet his voice had gotten.

Specifically, Aziraphale had gotten him an Eastern Hognose Snake, black with a reddish tint to match Crowley’s hair. Docile and small, the little dear had no sooner tasted the air then it was making a beeline for Crowley, around his wrist and up onto his shoulder.

He’d been right. The curse didn’t extend to one’s own species.

“I’m surprised you never got one for yourself,” Aziraphale said. He watched as Crowley ran two fingers delicately over the scales, entranced. A soft, subconscious hiss was emanating each time he breathed. “It’s rather the perfect pick for you.”

“Way to toot your own horn. But nah, just... snakes. Not very cute, are they? Not the sort of thing people want in their home.” Crowley used his free hand to sit his sunglasses more firmly onto his face and... oh.

Oh.

Aziraphale felt something in his chest tighten. He stepped forward and removed those glasses, despite the protest.

“I think they’re positively adorable,” and a laugh bubbled out of Aziraphale as Crowley spluttered. The tension in his shoulders released though and the little Hognose ended up better settled between them. “A snake will make a wonderful addition to this home, rest assured. You’ll have to give him a name.”

“Her,” Crowley croaked.

“Her then.”

“Got any suggestions?”

“Not just yet.” Stepping closer Aziraphale laid his head on Crowley’s shoulder, eye-to-eye with their little lady. He wasn’t at all scared though. Like with the snake above him, Aziraphale knew he was perfectly safe. “I hear these lovelies play dead when feeling threatened, so the name must be something suitably dramatic. You see? You’re perfect for one another.”

“Shut it, angel.”

“And yes, there’s a collection of stuffy old books in the second box. You must read up on how to properly care for her. You don’t really think I’d pass up the opportunity to—”

“Somebody give me strength do you ever shut up?”

Crowley finally decided that the best way to achieve silence was to get it himself, which was precisely why Aziraphale blathered on in the first place. Kissing one snake while another watched wasn’t precisely what one would consider angel-like behavior.

Although, given that Aziraphale was an angel and here they were, perhaps it wasn’t so far off the mark after all.

#good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #air conditioning #which one of you lovely readers wants to name the snake #because I am bad at that kind of stuff :D

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justjen523 · 6 years ago

Text

Perilous Paradise

Unknown x MC

Series Rating E (18+)

The last thing I remembered was the ringing in my ears as Unknown’s body covered mine. It had all happened so quickly and unexpectedly. A betrayal that unhinged this beautiful man turning him into a monster. Only, none of his rage was directed at me. Quite the opposite actually. He seemed more determined than ever to protect me and keep me safe. So much so, that he put his own life on the line becoming a human shield for the swarm of bullets that rapidly fired in our direction.

“Unknown!” His body went slack and I feared the worst as I rolled struggling to push him off of me. The group that had open fired on us ceased the onslaught but something told me they were far from finished. They wanted him dead and that most likely meant that his so-called Savior who had betrayed him wanted proof of his remains.

“Unknown? Unknown!” I shook his seemingly lifeless body over and over, terror filling my entire being. I knew I should run but there was no way I could just leave after everything he had done to protect me. Flashlights bobbed over the horizon reminding me the enemy was still out there and currently looking for us.

“Unknown?! Please! Please open your eyes!!! I need you! Please don’t leave me...” I began to sob. His eyes twitched then scrunched shut tighter informing me that though he was alive, he was in pain.

“P-Princess?”

“Oh thank god...” I threw my arms around his frame and then began to check quickly for the injuries but he quickly stopped me.

“Are you....alright?” His breaths were labored speaking as though the wind had been knocked out of him.

“I’m fine...you’re not. Where does it hurt?”

“N-Nevermind that. We...have to...ahh......get out of,,,,here now!” He slowly got to his feet and I tried to stop him but he brushed off my fussing over him. He was bleeding in several places and when my face scrunched up in concern he offered a smile like it was no big deal.

“I’m not gonna lie Princess, I’m definitely hurt but it’s not so bad that I can’t get us out of here, but I need your help.”

“Anything, what do you need me to do?” He leaned on me and I quickly wrapped my arm around his torso to help him stay balanced. He nodded northwest.

“That way, go. Quickly.” Using me as a crutch we made our way hastily to the tree line and into a thick pine forest. It would have been dark enough during the day with the immense height of the trees. In the darkness of night it was nearly impossible to see your hand in front of your face.

“I hope you know where we are going because I can’t see a goddamn thing.” I mumbled causing him to snort.

“I know this place like the back of my hand. Keep walking till I tell you to stop.”

“Okaaay?”

“Still don’t...trust me huh?”

“That’s not it and you know it. I just can’t even tell if I am walking in a straight line. Plus, what if there are like..ya know, bears and shit in here?” He chuckled as my imagination ran wild.

“Bears? Don’t tell me the Princess is ...afraid of a bear.”

“Why am I somehow not surprised that you aren‘t?” He tightened his grip and I slowed down.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to slow down?”

“Did I tell you to slow down?”

“No?”

“Well there’s your answer.” I audibly sighed. Even wounded and on the run in a pitch black forest, he still is a smartass.

“Up ahead we are going to make a sharp right. I’ll tell you when.”

“Okay..” We continued on this time in silence and determination as the adrenaline fueled us forward.

“Right up here...…”

“Now?”

“Few more feet.” I could feel my heart thumping against my chest as my feet traipsed over a blanket of dried pine needles.

“Here.” I did my best at making a right turn. Changing direction we slowly began a steady incline up a rather steep hill.

“Are you okay?” I asked, trying my best to disguise the worry.

“I will be once we get where we need to go.”

“And seriously where the hell is that?!” He didn’t answer which meant I was probably better off not knowing.

“Can you at least tell me how much further?”

“As long as it takes to get there.” I groaned again and felt his body shake as he tried to hide his laughter.

“You really are an asshole sometimes.” I let slip.

“Yeah? You think so?”

“Yes, I do!”

“Mm. But that’s what makes you like me so much.”

“W-Who said I like you!” I was grateful for the darkness as I felt my cheeks burn. I may not be able to see his gorgeous face but the heat from his body and the close proximity of his voice were enough of a reminder how close he was to me.

“Oh? My girl sure is fickle. Perhaps she needs to be properly disciplined.” My body stiffened at his suggestion and without even having to see I knew he was smirking. Figures.

“Up here to the left.” He chuckles at my sudden lack of confidence I had wielded up until his last statement. We make our way through a break in the trees that shift from the tall pine to a regular countryside. When my feet collide with the gravel I am surprised at just how accurate he had been. This man seemed far from human at times.

“We’re here.” Here? We are still in the middle of nowhere in the blackness of night with no signs of a building or shelter of any kind. Thankfully now that we’re out of the tall pine forest, the light from the moon gently lends a soft glow to our surroundings allowing us to make out objects close by.

“What do you mean ‘here’? There’s nothing right here!” When I finally cast my gaze in his direction my breath hitches at the way the moonlight catches his eyes making them seemingly glow.

“If it was that easy to find it wouldn’t be safe now would it?” Laughing at my confused expression, he nods with his head at the ground next to a large oak.

“What? A tree? What are we, Swiss Family Robinson?”

“You were expecting a tree fort? Actually that’s not a bad idea. Would give me a great advantage over our enemies should, or rather when, they come over that ridge.”

“Unknown, I’m seriously confused.”

“Relax Princess. You should know by now, don’t judge a book by its cover.” He hobbles over to the old oak and brushes away some old leaves and branches from the dirt. Clutching his arm and limping he then squats down and lifts something that appears to be very heavy before disappearing into a hole in the ground.

“What the....” I follow hesitantly and am surprised to find a light coming from somewhere within.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Get your butt in here.” It was impressive to say the least. It reminded me of a military bunker. Minimal furnishings, just the essentials and a well stocked shelf of canned goods, first aid supplies and to my discomfort, weapons. Mostly an assortment of hunting knives, but also a rifle and a revolver and a healthy stash of boxes containing bullets and shells from previous trips here I imagine.

“Did you shut the hatch behind you?”

“Yeah but if there’s some kind of lock I haven’t a clue.” From behind a makeshift curtain he stepped out in nothing more than a towel wrapped around his waist, his typical sexy grin on his face. In his hands were a towel, rubbing alcohol, a needle and thread and something that resembled pliers.

“W-Whaaaat is that?”

“What these?” He snickered as he demonstrated how they worked.

“Umm....”

“Don’t tell me you can’t handle the sight of blood Princess.”

“Would it matter?”

“Well, if you’re gonna be my girl you better get used to the stuff.” His grin practically sparkled.

“You’re terrifying sometimes.” I stated bluntly, furrowing my eyebrows at him.

“Oh beautiful, you have no idea.” He positioned himself on a chair and set down the items he had procured on a table next to him. Unwrapping the towel my eyes immediately looked away as my cheeks began to burn.

“You know Princess, you are quite fascinating. A few hours ago you were practically begging me to fuck you and yet now you shy away? Are you purposely playing coy or are you really that innocent?”

“Y-You’re the one who is naked!”

“Kinda hard to pull the bullets out through your clothes but hey....if it’s making you that uncomfortable feel free to join me.” Full of ire at this beautiful smartass, I decided it best to prove right here and now where I stood when it came to a mess like the one we currently found ourselves in.

“Gimme that before you make it worse.” His shock gave way to being quite impressed as I ripped the pliers from his hand and looked at the bullet embedded in his side.

“Damn that looks painful.” I unintentionally cringed but he just giggled at my dismayed reaction.

“Oh don’t stop now, I’m dying to see you fuck this up.” He teased wearing a grin like he was truly expecting me to do further damage rather then help rectify the situation. Steeling myself, I pushed into the wound and tried to grip the bullet but it slipped. He just giggled further like this fucking tickled rather than caused him pain. Once more I tried to grip the bullet but it slipped and now I was sweating even though he seemed like this was a typical Tuesday stroll through the park.

“Third time’s the charm Princess.” He practically sung watching me with feline-like eyes. Determined, I pushed in further disregarding the mere notion that this caused him pain and finally got a solid grip on the slug and twisted as I pulled it out. He quickly pressed the alcohol dampened cloth against the now bleeding wound as he took the pliers still holding the bullet from my hand. He inspected it thoroughly before bursting into semi-hysterical laughter leaving me confused.

“Even death itself is afraid of me.” He snickered. When he caught sight of my concern he explained.

“You see this?”

“What, a bullet?”

“Yeah, or rather a dud of sorts. These fuckers are designed to burst on contact and shatter you from the inside out. This little fella failed to do its job which is why I am still sitting here.”

“That’s wonderful! It’s a miracle!” I exclaimed. He on the other hand didn’t seem to share the same sentiments.

“Yeah. It’s fucking amazing. I can’t even die right.”

“What, you WANTED to die?!” He shrugged his shoulders like it was a typical simple question.

“Why?! What even happened back there? Seriously, just who the hell are you Unknown?” He began to sew up the wound and decided to finally explain.

“Let’s start simply. Remember when I told you I belonged to a religious cult?”

“Wait, that was true?!”

“Yes. I am.....was, a member of the religious order called Mint Eye. My “Savior” was the one who founded it several years ago. The man you know as “V” abandoned and tormented Savior and she sought retribution. I have faithfully served her since the beginning. That is, until now.”

“But why? Just what the hell happened when you told me to wait there and went on without me?”

“Savior’s precious “V” decided to return and unfortunately she fell victim to his lies once more. He convinced her to betray me. Me, after all I have done for her. After all I have sacrificed for our eternal happiness.”

“But how? How did she betray you?” He tied off the knot and once again held the cloth over the stitched wound as he stared intensely into my eyes.

“She sold me out to get to my Father. She wanted to sacrifice me to gain power that would make her untouchable.”

“Why, who is your Father?”

“Nothing you need to worry about now. All in good time Princess.”

“So now what?”

“Now we take the fight back to them.”

“What?! N-No! You already miraculously walked away once! Why go back there? Is it really worth your life?” He became still and stared at me with such intensity I could barely breathe.

“Yes.” The conviction with which he states this is so potent I can do nothing but try my best to understand.

“Okay.”

“Look, I appreciate everything you’ve done this far but, if you wanna walk there’s the door.”

“What?! I’m not fucking going anywhere. Sure you’re reckless, unpredictable, and I’m really starting to believe insane but how the hell can I just walk away now?”

“Easy, walk your ass through that door and never look back.”

“Do you not want me here?”

“I don’t want you hurt because of me.”

“Well you should have thought about that before you decided to steal my heart. I’m not going anywhere Unknown, I’m your girl remember?”

“You realize this is incredibly dangerous right?”

“Yes.”

“That we could easily die?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re still willing to follow me?”

“YES. I told you already, I’m not going anywhere. For some insane reason, I love you.”

“What did you just say?!”

“I said I love you, Unknown.” A strange look came over him and a moment later I was pressed against the wall, his hand around my neck squeezing.

“Lies!” Seething rage poured from him as he somehow now regarded me as something dangerous.

“It’s......not...….a......lie.....” I choked out unable to draw a breath. His eyes were wild and his breathing became erratic.

“No one! Not even my Savior loves me! DO NOT LIE TO ME!!!” Tears rolled from the corners of my eyes as I struggled in vain to taste oxygen. His intimidating form glared angrily at me as he showed no signs of relinquishing his grip.

“W-Why...…..?” I squeezed out.

“Why what?!” He spit angrily.

“W-W-Why......can’t I......love...….you? I’m......sor….ry.” More tears rolled down my cheeks and I watched as the anger fled from his eyes and turned to hold regret and sorrow.

“_______.” Finally letting go I immediately sucked in as much oxygen as my lungs would allow. The dizziness from the rush of blood flow returning left me dizzy and I fell forward right into him. However, I was not met with any hostility. No, this time I was held delicately, like a porcelain doll. Fragile and easily breakable.

“Forgive me. I-I’m so sorry Princess.” He just held me tightly in his embrace and soothed me till I returned to normal.

“I lost control. I’m so sorry. I’d say it won’t happen again but, without my elixir...”

“We will....get through this....kay?” I offered still comfortably tucked in his embrace not knowing what the hell I had gotten myself into, but, the fact remained that I really meant what I said. I love him.

“Yeah Princess, we are, but.... we’re gonna need some help.”

“Help?”

“Unfortunately, there’s only one fucking person who CAN help us.”

“W-Who?” He squeezed a little tighter before breathing me in.

“The goddamn Redhead.”

#mysme #mysme unknown #mysme fandom #mysme fanfic #mysme saeran #mysme saeran choi #mm #mm fanfiction #mm fandom #mm unknown #mm saeran #mm saeran choi #mystic messenger

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impalaimagining · 6 years ago

Text

Heroici

Pairing: Jensen x Reader, past Jared x Reader

Word Count: 3,174

Warnings: angst, character death, prolonged mourning/grief, smut

A/N: Written for @spnkinkbingo and for @spnangstbingo. I’m so sorry.

Kink Square Filled: AU

Angst Square Filled: Military AU

Beta: @sixtysevenandwhiskey

SPN Kink Bingo Masterlist - SPN Angst Bingo Masterlist - Masterlist

The knock on your door echoed through your mind. No one knocked. No one ever knocked. You stood and stepped slowly toward the door as the blood drained from your face. You could see the uniforms through the window; two men stood on your doorstep in dress blues. The whoosh of your blood behind your eardrums combined with the violent thud of your heart deafened you to any other sounds. To this day, you don’t remember turning the knob and opening the door.

“Hello?” Your voice was shaky.

The man on the right handed you an envelope. Your hands trembled as tears fell onto the concrete step beneath your feet. You didn’t have to open the envelope - you knew what it said - but you opened it anyway. A sob shook your body as you read the words.

“We’re very sorry, ma’am. If there’s anything we can do for you, please, don’t hesitate to reach out.” The same man who gave you the envelope turned on his heel and proceeded back to the car awaiting both of them.

You looked up, catching the back of his head before your eyes met those of the other man who’d been with him. His eyes were sad, but almost glowing green, and freckles were smattered across his face in the most perfect places. He didn’t look real; he looked like one of those guys you saw on the advertisements for joining the Army. They didn’t actually exist, they were just there to look pretty for the commercials.

“I’m very sorry.” His voice pulled you out of your head.

You shook your head, cleared your throat, and swallowed. “Thank you.” You managed on a whisper. With a nod and another sympathetic look, he was gone.

It only took three days to pull the funeral together. You’d received the news on Tuesday, and the services were arranged to be held on Saturday. You found the knee-length, lacy but modest black dress that always did something unexplainable to your late husband. With a sad smile and a breath of a laugh, you pulled it on over your head and grabbed black heels to match.

Your mom drove you to the funeral home. You never would’ve made it on your own. As you opened the car door, a hand caught yours, helping you to stand. You adjusted your dress and thanked the man with a small smile, not really looking at him until he’d let go.

“Oh.” You breathed. It was the same green-eyed man from Tuesday. “Thank you.” You repeated.

The man remained silent, but nodded once and folded his hands together at his belt. You stepped inside, your eyes falling to the casket at the front of the room. You were the first to arrive.

Slowly, and on feeble legs, you ambled toward the pine box. You rested your hand on top, then let your head fall forward as you sobbed. The sounds echoed through the otherwise empty room, and fuck anyone who tried to come in and calm you down.

It took almost an hour before your breathing regulated itself again, and by the time you were done hugging everyone there was to hug and were finally able to sit, you swore you didn’t have a single tear left to cry. You were wrong.

The preacher stood behind the podium. He thumbed through his bible until he found the verse about eternal life and rested his palm on the page. He looked up, eyes meeting yours for just a brief second, but it was long enough for him to give you that look - that damn look filled with so much pity that if you saw it from one more person, you swore you’d lose it. You didn’t want their pity, hell, you didn’t need it. You’d spent enough time wallowing in it over the days since you’d received the news. Pity party was practically your middle na-

“Family. Friends.” The preacher’s eyes scanned the room. “Today, we gather to celebrate the life of Jared Padalecki.”

Your throat closed and your heart pounded. This couldn’t be real.

“Jared was a son, a brother, a husband...” His eyes moved to you again. Your mind screamed fuck you and you knew you were going straight to hell for it. You didn’t care. “His time on earth was cut entirely too short.”

That was the last you heard. Nothing else mattered. None of what he was saying was relevant to Jared’s life anyway. It was a canned script. The preacher had gone so far as to ask you if Jared had any nicknames he could sprinkle into the service. God, no. Jared’s nicknames weren’t for some man - some stranger - to use to make himself feel better about the whole thing.

Jared’s mom sat on your left while your own mother sat behind you, her hand resting on your shoulder throughout the morning. The preacher opened the floor to anyone who had anything to say. You didn’t. You couldn’t. But after two of Jared’s high school friends had spoken - and cried - their way through their stories, your body moved on its own. You were standing, your legs carrying you to the front of that stuffy, overcrowded room like they were disconnected from the rest of you.

You stood behind the wooden table and stared at the microphone, blinking slowly. Chancing a look at your mom, she pointed to herself, and then to you, a silent question of whether or not you wanted her beside you. You shook your head subtly and took a deep breath in through your nose. Pulling your lips into a thin line, you closed your eyes and opened them, only to find the gaze of the man with the green eyes. You focused on him.

“I don’t actually know that many of you, but,” you huffed a laugh, “I know, just by looking at all of you, that Jared has changed every single one of your lives. He changed mine, that’s for sure. When I met Jared, I never expected to fall in love with him. We were drunk - God, we were so drunk.” That earned a low chuckle from the people in the seats. “But we hit it off, and I gave him my number, apparently. He texted me the next morning. The rest is kind of history. I loved - love - Jared with everything I have, and I would give anything to be able to live out the promise we made to grow old together.” You blinked back your tears and looked at the casket. “I love you, baby. I’ll see you soon.”

The steps back to your seat were numbing. You felt every eye on you, heard every sniffle, saw every flash of white as people raised tissues to wipe their eyes. As you sat down and heard the muffled sound of the preacher’s voice, you knew you had to stand again. You reached back for your mom’s hand and let her support you, unsure of whether it was actually for you, or if you were just appeasing her need to comfort you.

Shots rang out through the cemetery. Your ears rang as you stared at the field of red and white stripes fanned out before you, then folded neatly into a little triangle. The fabric hit your hands, along with the gentle touch of a stark white glove. The brush of another person’s hand brought you from your daze. Looking up, you were shocked to find that the man with his hand still on the flag was the man who seemed to be following you - haunting you - everywhere you went. His kind, green eyes wrinkled at the corners when he smiled solemnly and stepped back into formation.

The casket started its descent into the ground and you couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that there was nothing in it. No body, no possessions, nothing. Jared had died in battle, and they didn’t have time to recover his body. The thought made you sick to your stomach, bile bubbling in the back of your throat. You must’ve made a noise or something, because Jared’s dad passed you a bottle of water. You forced a smile and nodded a silent thanks in his direction before the trumpets behind you played the saddest fucking song you’d ever heard.

At the luncheon - the stupid, necessary luncheon - you were sitting at a table with your parents and Jared’s. They started talking about something - oh, grandkids - and you bolted for the bar.

“Whiskey, double. Please.” You forced a smile for the bartender.

He sat the glass down and began pouring, catching the glint of the diamonds on your rings. “Lucky guy.” He gave you a smug grin.

“What?” You accentuated the ‘t’.

“Your husband. He’s a lucky guy.” He shrugged, nodding toward your wedding band and flipping the whiskey bottle, stopping the pour.

“He’s fucking dead, asshole.” You snapped, loud enough to catch the attention of the tables closest to the bar. They turned and looked at you, and you could not have possibly cared any less.

“Hey, whoa, okay.” Strong hands held your upper arms as you snatched your whiskey glass and were pulled away from the bar. “You think you really need that right now?”

You scoffed and threw back half the drink, shuddering before looking up to tell off the man who criticized you and dragged you from the confrontation. Son of a bitch. “Seriously?!” You looked at him with raised eyebrows. “You’re everywhere. Ever since you showed up at my house and told me that my husband isn’t coming ho-” Tears poured from your eyes before you could finish the statement.

The man - the kinda creepy, a little bit shy, and a lotta bit handsome mystery man - pulled you into his arms. You didn’t care that you didn’t know him. You didn’t care that all of Jared’s friends and family were watching. You didn’t care. You needed someone like this, and this complete stranger knew that better than any of the people who claimed to be your family.

“Shh, I’ve got ya.” His hand smoothed over your hair while you cried into his white button-down shirt. “I know. I know...”

You pulled back and looked up at him, wiping at your tears quickly. “I’m sorry.” You wriggled out of his embrace.

He shook his head. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for. I know what you’re goin’ through. It’s tough, but you’ve got people here for you, y’know?” You nodded as he extended his hand with a light chuckle. “I’m Jensen, by the way.”

It shouldn’t have felt right when you two met for coffee every Wednesday and Saturday. It shouldn’t have felt right when he kissed you, only a few months after Jared’s casket was covered and in the ground. It shouldn’t have felt right when he suggested the two of you live together. It shouldn’t have felt right the first time he made love to you. None of it should’ve been right, but it was...

“Jensen!” You cried out into the darkness, clutching at his broad shoulders.

Jensen rutted his hips against the insides of your thighs. His nose bumped yours gently as he kissed you. His fingers laced with yours on either side of your head and held you where you were. Jensen fucked down into you with almost his full weight, and the tingling in the tops of your legs told you you weren’t getting out of bed anytime soon after this round. You didn’t mind.

Your nails dug into the meat of Jensen’s back as one hand left yours to trail down your body. He squeezed your hip before grazing his thumb to the apex of your thighs. The pad of the thick digit brushed your clit softly and you bit at his bottom lip. Your nerve endings were alight with pure, primal need for Jensen to finish the job. Everything in your body screamed for Jensen, your throat sore from the loud moans of his name that had echoed off your bedroom walls all night.

Jensen’s hips snapped forward, hard and deep, and you swore you felt him in your stomach. Every sensation hit you at once - his lips molded with yours, the weight of his body on you, the stretch of him between your legs, the rough skin of his thumb pressed against your most sensitive parts. You crumbled, your legs shaking around Jensen’s hips as he slowed his thrusts and found his own release.

After a few quiet minutes of lingering touches and soft, drawn out kisses, Jensen pulled himself from within you and laid beside you, pulling you onto his chest. His fingers drifted over the skin of your upper arm and shoulder while you nuzzled into the crook of his neck. You traced patterns onto his chest as your breathing evened out.

“I love you.” Jensen whispered.

So much for even breaths.

You looked up at him, surprised by his confession. “I mean it.” He assured you. “I love you. I really, really love you. I’m - I’m in love with you, and I don’t need you to say it back, I just had to-”

You cut him off, jumping at the chance to kiss him again. Jensen knew you didn’t need to say the words. Every ounce of everything you’d ever felt for him was flowing between the two of you as your lips connected.

You and Jensen spent months apart when he was called back to the base, and it killed you to be away from him, but the reunions. It was like nothing you’d ever felt before every time you saw him, and you swore he got better looking every time he came home.

One of his stays had you feeling particularly on edge, and you couldn’t pinpoint why. You woke up every morning feeling nauseous, but nothing ever came of it. You chalked it up to the anxiety of missing him and knowing what happened the last time the man you loved walked out of your house with his camouflage bag slung over his shoulder. Absentmindedly, you twirled your wedding band on your right ring finger and your stomach lurched. You ran for the toilet and lost the contents of your stomach into the bowl.

“Shit.” You groaned, looking down. Your eyes caught on your watch and you frowned at the date. “That can’t right.” Pulling out your phone, you double checked. After the clarification, the panic set in. You snagged your keys from the counter and ran to your car.

Jensen came home twelve days later, and you were beyond anxious for his arrival. He burst through the door and scooped you into a hug, crashing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. You chewed your bottom lip nervously and watched as he hung his bag on the hook by the front door.

“I’m so fuckin’ happy to be home.” He sighed, getting ready to sit on the couch.

You couldn’t help yourself, the words fell from your lips before your mind’s filter could kick in. It surprised you almost as much as it surprised him.

“Jensen, I - I’m pregnant!” You stammered, watching his reaction carefully. When his eyebrows raised and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, you knew it was okay to smile.

“Are you serious?” Jensen looked at you in awe as you nodded and pulled the pregnancy test from behind your back. “Oh my God!” He grabbed you around the waist, crushing you to his chest and spinning you in a circle. You giggled as tears lingered just out of the corners of your eye. “We’re gonna have a baby!”

You nodded, your feet hitting the ground softly. Smiling, you reached up and laid your palm on his scruffy cheek as you whispered. “We’re having a baby.”

Jensen insisted on you quitting your job at the coffee shop as soon as you went to the doctor and got the “official” test done. Once the doctor confirmed the pregnancy, Jensen had you on strict orders to do the bare minimum. You swore you gained double the normal weight in your first trimester.

You were showing by the time Jensen’s birthday came around, so you wrapped your stomach with a bow and a little tag that said, “Present within - do not open until June.” Jensen laughed at that, taking a picture before he unwrapped his gift fully, stripping you down and nosing at your neck while he reminded you how beautiful you were to him - no matter how your body looked.

A month and a half after Jensen’s birthday, the two of you packed up for the day and headed to the lake. Jensen pulled into the gravel lot and loaded himself up with the chairs and fishing poles while you grabbed the cooler.

You spent the day sitting by the edge of the water, lines cast out, talking about what the next few months of your lives would bring. “You still have to build that crib, you know.” You teased him, earning a dismissive wave of his hand and a light roll of his eyes.

“I’ve got time.” He shrugged.

“You’ve got maybe eight weeks.” You pursed your lips and rested your hand on your baby bump, rubbing lightly as you talked to your unborn child. “Dad doesn’t wanna do stuff for you.” You glanced at Jensen, a coy smile on your lips. “You won’t even have a place to sleep if he keeps this up.”

“Hey, knock it off.” Jensen chuckled, laying his hand over yours. “I’ll do it when we get home today. Scout’s honor.” He held up three fingers and you giggled.

When you got home a few hours later, Jensen headed straight for what was going to be the nursery and opened the box with all the crib parts inside. He groaned when he saw all the legs and screws and parts. You giggled, standing in the doorway and watching him.

Jensen stood, brushing his hands together with a content sigh. “Not too bad, huh, Mama?” He pulled you into the room and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder while you smiled and shook your head.

“Not too bad at all.” You turned and kissed the tip of his nose. Jensen spun you around and kissed your lips deeply. As his hands slipped under the fabric of your shirt, holding your hips, the doorbell rang. Jensen groaned. “Let it go.” It rang again, and once more. You furrowed your brows and fixed your shirt, walking to the door with purpose.

Without peering through the blinds, without checking out the window, with no hesitation at all, you opened the door and your breath left your lungs. Your heart stopped and your knees buckled under your weight. Jensen’s arms caught you from behind before you could fall to the floor. As he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, he glanced up.

Jensen’s breath caught in his throat and he choked on his words, clearing his throat and blinking slowly. “Jared?”

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silverfall-patriarch · 6 years ago

Text

A Reason to Work

CONTINUED FROM HERE

“Bri’s on patrol with Cora, but I’ll let Tanner know to give the med bay a heads up.” The Commander said into the communication stone as he moved quickly through the winding corridors of the Emissary Dark circles marked his rugged face, but it mattered little that he hadn’t slept in almost two days...there was still work to be done.

Maladir hadn’t set foot outside the ship since they’d left Sanctuary City when his daughter called in the attack on Ashenvale and began the nightmare scenario the Praetorium found themselves in. It was one thing to balance precariously on the line of neutrality when a common foe like the Legion or Scourge was present, but another thing entirely when the Horde and Alliance face off against one another. Soldiers who had fought side by side against a greater foe now held their blades to one another’s throat in support of war mongering and what seemed like an endless landscape of death and suffering. Now, his knights, friends and family were dead center at the maelstrom that had begun to kick up around them when the battle horns sounded.

It had led to sleepless night and a god-touched drive to have everything, and everyone accounted for. Sure, it meant piles of paperwork, endless communication channels being opened and more coffee than the Commander cared to admit, but it kept his mind on task…and not at a memorial built to the General he’d lost. This war and its suffering gave him purpose that would have otherwise been used in the crafting of the suit of armor he’d begun, and left him to idle away his hours and wallow in his own misery.

“Commander?” Tanner’s questioning tone had impeccable timing as Maladir lifted his blue eyes from the papers in his hand and offered a grateful smile for the cup of coffee the Praetorium squire held in his hands.

“What would I do without you, Tanner?” One hand reached out to ruffle the Westfall boys red hair with a genuine smile that split his face.

“Not have any coffee, that’s for sure Commander. Any news from the Ironfist?” His hopeful expression couldn’t be missed, as Tanner idolized the brutish Captain just as he did every other knight in the Praetorium.

“He’s on his way back with a group of Forsaken actually, thought you’d like to go help in the medbay and get a brush up on how to deal with their healing, yeah?” Healing Forsaken wasn’t always the easiest of tasks, but they all had to learn how to deal with it sooner or later and Tanner was already a bright student when it came to matters of mending.

“Really? I thought Bri was on patrol though? I… though I saw her and Cora headed up to the flight deck..” Tanner mused, wrinkling his nose at his foggy memories.

“She is, should be back in an hour or so. They were just going to make a lap around the Keep and lake… see how the blight was faring. Think Bri was going a bit stir crazy, if I’m honest… her and Cora both.” Maladir chuckled, nudging the squire to follow as he continued his path back to his paperwork.

“I’ll say…who’d you bring in to take her spot?” Tanner asked, pulling an apple from his pocket and taking a bite.

“Mari is down there now, she should be able to hold her own until Raelin gets here. He’s the one who taught Bri how to deal with Forsaken and Ebon Blade… so not going to find a better teacher than the Captain.” For as gruff and brash as the Ironfist may have been, Maladir could always rely on the half-elf to be at the top of his game where healing was concerned.

Beaming at the thought of spending a few hours with Raelin, the squire skipped on ahead of the Commander, turning around to walk backwards as he spoke. “I’ll meet him up top then…will make sure to send him your way when we’re finished!” With a crisp salute, Tanner took an immediate left in the direction of the medbay at a bit of a jog, leaving Maladir to continue his straight line path for his office.

The pile of files on his desk were organized neatly by date and contained all relevant information pertaining to every move the Praetorium made. The Commander was meticulous in his paperwork, perhaps even more so in knowing all of it would eventually end up in the Director’s hands. It mattered very little in the grand scheme of things that all his ‘I’s’ were dotted and ‘T’s’ crossed, but if Maladir was anything, he was thorough and diligent in making sure that those under his banner could not be faulted for any move they made…as he documented it all.

“Commander, you busy?” It was obviously a rhetorical question the Major asked when his gravely baritone rumbled across the com stone.

“Paperwork waits for no man, Major…got a sitrep for me?” Mal said, a tired but amused chuckle laced in his tone.

“Same shit, different day, Commander. Factions are backing away every hour, so looks like the main field is clear. However, I found something along the blight line you may be interested in.”

The Major was usually a direct sort of man, so his evasive comments came as quite a surprise for the Commander who stared at the stone curiously. Picking it up to answer, the voice on the other end was the last person her expected to hear.

“Papa?” Addie’s voice was, in that moment, a divine gift that Maladir hadn’t known he needed to hear. Thankfully, nobody was around to see his blue eyes fill with tears as the Commander’s resolve faltered and brought him to bury his face in his hands as he imagined her delicate features and sweet smile.

Shaking fingers wrapped around the stone as his tentative voice cracked slightly under the weight of his emotion. “Adilynia, I take it you are the ‘thing’ the Major found at the blight line?”

“Aye, Papa…but don’t worry, I wasn’t in the fighting… Teren and Lycan… they were…but they made sure I wa-“ Her tendency to ramble was a sure sign the small knight had been overindulging in her Scourge destruction, but it warmed Mal’s heart to know her first thoughts were still to her oaths and to keeping him abreast of her situation.

“Pixie…I trust you know what you’re doing…just tell me you’re holding up okay in all of this? I just need to know you’re safe…”

“Well, safe is kinda relative in a war zone…and I have a couple of serious bruises, but nothing even remotely worth making a fuss over. No, that isn’t an evasive measure to avoid the healing tents… these blighted soldiers aren’t even worth the magic that was used to raise them…” For all her dismissive tone, the keen ears of a father picked up the annoyance in his daughters voice at the mere mention of the act that had raised a mindless army for the Banshee Queen.

“You know what’s not what I meant…” the Commander chided, chuckling at the huffed response from Addie.

“Anger has given way to simply coping, Papa… right now, and that’s all I can make sense of. I’m trying not to feel much of anything…not so sure I’d be able to keep my legs under me, if I did.” Her tired voice betrayed so much, and in that moment Maladir would have given anything in the world to wrap his daughter up in his arms and chase away every dark thought she had.

“I highly doubt that, Pixie. Pretty stable and unmoving when you want to be…take after your mother in that regard.”

“She’s shaking her finger at you, Papa! Her and Vinnie both, as we all know both your daughters inherited YOUR stubborn streak…believe Mama used to say it spanned the whole of Azeroth.” Addie quipped, laughing quietly at the memory and being able to correct her father.

“I agree with, Pixie!” Came Raelins jovial voice, as the public communication had been used.

“I quite agree with Miss Silverfall as well, Commander.” The Baron’s formal tone retorted, though how he had the balls to even utter Addie’s name would be a subject of discussion for weeks to come.

“Alright, alright!” Mal’s laugh sounded foreign to him as he leaned back into his chair and relished the brief moment of carefree banter between his knights. “I get the point! Light bless, you all strike when the iron’s hot!”

“The Major’s about to leave for Silvermoon, Papa…I just wanted to tell you I miss you and love you. When… your time frees up…I insist on coming home, even for a night…and I desperately need kodo ribs!” Addie said, quieting the chatter on the line as various Praetorium members chimed in.

“You are missed, by me… and all of us, Adilynia.. beyond measure. I love you above everything else, my little Pixie. Go with the Light’s graces…home will welcome you soon enough.” Maladir said, wiping the single tear that rolled down his cheek. “And Major? Thank you…”

“My pleasure, Commander. Will have a real sitrep for you in a few hours…Featherstorm, out.”

With the knights of the Praetorium having gone back to their assigned posts and tasks, the Commander’s office returned to a silent state with but the whir of the ship itself to serve as background noise. However, his gloomy frame of mind had melted away to a fond smile and invigorated spirit that saw him reaching for the stack of paperwork that still needed to be seen to. He had work to do.

@adilynia @ironbound-praetorium @sanctuary-city-wra @teren-k @ly-canthos @lochlyn-kiden @aresh-isdiearore @kelladen for mentions/relevance

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johannas-motivational-insults · 7 years ago

Text

Joniss Babysitter AU

Here is Part 4, a.k.a. the part where JMI goes into JMI mode and destroys the characters’ lives and readers’ hearts. Because Joniss just isn’t Joniss without a lot of angst. Also it’s kinda canon adjacent, so... that’s a thing. You can catch up on the previous chapters here, here, and here.

Part 4: 2005-2006

Things remained a bit tense between Johanna and Katniss after the blowup over Blight. Even after they supposedly made up, Jo could feel a slight hesitance and tension in Katniss’s demeanor when they were together. A lack of comfort and trust. It hurt, but she couldn’t pretend she didn’t deserve it. Humiliating Katniss was a sure way to get pushed away.

Though it left a hollow ache, Johanna didn’t quite register how much she missed Katniss's affection until she finally received some on Christmas Day.

After she and her immediate family opened gifts and had Christmas brunch, Jo got on her bike and rode to the Everdeens’ house. Her grandparents and cousins were coming over for presents and dinner later, but she had a few hours to kill. When she arrived, Mr. Everdeen answered the door with a surprised smile and invited her in. “Girls!” he called. “Someone's here to see you!”

Prim came barrelling in from the living room almost immediately, but Katniss didn't follow until her sister grinned and shrieked, “Jo!” While Prim threw her arms around Jo’s waist, Katniss rounded the corner with a shy smile, edging closer.

“Hey, Prim,” said Jo, giving her hair a ruffle. “I come bearing gifts.” Prim bounced on her toes excitedly, wringing her tiny hands. Johanna had never brought them Christmas gifts before. She had a little more money available that year, that and she was still feeling guilty for her indiscretion a few months prior.

Since Prim was already all but salivating on her, Johanna gave her her gift first. She ripped open the wrapping paper and cheered at the stuffie she found inside, an orange tabby cat. Promptly proclaiming she was going to name him Buttercup, she gave Jo a quick thank you hug and scampered back into the living room.

“Primrose!” called her dad. Giving Jo an embarrassed look, he added, “Sorry.”

“It’s all good. She’s excited.” Actually, Jo was kind of grateful because Prim’s present was much cheaper than her sister’s and she didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Butterflies fluttered in Jo’s gut as she reached into her backpack to pull out Katniss's gift. Her nerves surprised her but she kept her face straight, revealing nothing as Katniss curiously took the box and started peeling away the wrapping paper.

Katniss’s eyes widened and flicked up once she opened the box, revealing the leather archery glove inside. Jo had noticed that her old one was worn out and getting a little small for her that previous September, when Katniss took her hunting with her dad one time. Specifically, she’d noticed when she shifted to stand after one of Mr. Everdeen’s shots and Katniss laid a hand on her thigh, silently instructing her to stay in a crouch. Johanna’s eyes lingered on the hand and she couldn’t help noticing the worn, strained leather on the back of the glove.

Johanna found herself gazing at Katniss’s hand once again as she carefully extracted the glove from the box and examined it. Katniss hadn’t started her growth spurt in earnest yet, but her hands were growing and probably about the size of Jo’s by then. Jo found herself wondering and thinking they should compare. She shook that off and said, “I had to guess on the sizing, but if it’s wrong you can go back and exch-”

Katniss squeezed her arms tight around Jo’s ribs, popping the breath from her lungs and effectively cutting her off. “It’s perfect.”

Something half laugh, half wheeze pushed its way out of Johanna, prompting Katniss to loosen her grip. “You haven’t even tried it on yet.” Katniss rolled her eyes but handed the box to her father. Slipping her fingertips inside, she fastened the wrist strap and flexed her fingers, testing the glove’s give. Raising her eyebrows, she gave Jo an approving nod that made warmth rise in the older girl’s belly. Ignoring the sensation, Jo tipped her head and suggested, “Maybe you could teach me to shoot sometime? How to hunt?”

“I’d like that,” Katniss agreed immediately. Suddenly registering that it was not entirely her call, she turned to Mr. Everdeen. “Dad? Can we take her again next year?”

“Of course,” he replied, giving Katniss a smile with a hint of mischief. It turned warm and inviting by the time he looked up to Johanna. “You’re practically family.” With that, he gave his daughter's shoulder a squeeze and brushed by her to join his wife in the kitchen.

Katniss’s gray eyes shone as she stared up into Jo’s, the intensity of her stare making Jo’s stomach gurgle. Stepping in again, she dropped her head to rest against Jo’s shoulder and slipped her arms around her waist. “Thank you.”

Easing her arms around Katniss’s shoulders, Johanna murmured, “You’re welcome.”

A moment later Katniss looked up, forehead creased with concern. “I don’t have anything for you.”

“This is enough,” Johanna assured her, unable to stop the smile forcing its way onto her lips. It was more than enough. She’d bridged the gap. She knew she’d be embarrassed about being a sap later, but right then she was too relieved to care about her pride. Doubling down on the puke-worthy shit, she pressed a kiss to Katniss’s forehead. Katniss smiled, promptly burying her face in Jo’s chest again.

***

Mere weeks later, Johanna came home to her mother’s blanched face and some terrible news. There’d been an explosion at a factory earlier that afternoon, and several workers were killed. Mr. Everdeen was among them.

Jo felt the loss in the pit of her stomach, her mind going numb. Because he had been a mainstay in her life for years and she was fond of him, partly. But even more so, because she knew how close Katniss was to her father. This could destroy her.

Jo felt useless, unsure what to do. Her mother sensed this and gave a little guidance, enlisting her help making a lasagna for the family. Because cooking is an inconvenience when one is grieving, she explained. It was something to do, which helped. But once it was in the oven, Jo could only stare at her hands. Homework was out of the question.

She hadn’t even noticed her leaving, but her mother returned home a few minutes before the oven timer went off. Cradled in her arms was a small, tasteful bouquet. Somehow the flowers made the whole thing more real, twisting a knife under Johanna’s ribs.

Mrs. Everdeen appeared just as shell shocked when she answered the door. Taking the dish with a dazed expression, she gave an almost robotic, “Thank you.”

Standing from laying the bouquet on the front stoop with a handful of others, Johanna raised a hopeful eyebrow. “The kids around?”

“Johanna,” Mrs. Mason interjected quietly.

“What?”

“Let them be. You’ll see them at the funeral.” Turning back to her coworker, she added, “Let us know if you need anything else. Any of you.”

“We will,” replied Mrs. Everdeen before disappearing inside.

As Johanna looked helplessly at the closed door, her mother laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Look, I know you’re worried about Katniss,” she said, calling Johanna’s eyes up to hers. “But you shouldn’t force yourself upon someone who’s mourning. It’s rude.”

Apparently, many of the people at the funeral didn’t get the memo. After the service, person after person approached the family to offer their condolences. Which would be fine, except many of them were forcing hugs upon Katniss. While Mrs. Everdeen and Prim seemed to appreciate the gesture, Jo could see Katniss growing more and more uncomfortable, stiffening and avoiding eye contact. Eventually Jo decided manners could get fucked and cut in line, pulling Katniss aside.

Once they were a few feet removed from the horde of well-intentioned but overwhelming mourners, Katniss expelled a long breath and gave her rescuer a nod of thanks, even catching her eye for an instant. Not wanting to add to her discomfort, Johanna refrained from giving her the hug she wanted to or delivering any useless platitudes. Instead, she gave the girl’s shoulder a firm squeeze. “You call me if you need anything, okay? Even if you just want to talk.”

To Jo’s surprise, Katniss willingly looked up and made eye contact. The brightness Jo remembered from Christmas Day was gone, her eyes now dead and dazed. Though her expression carried hints of relief and gratitude, Katniss could only respond with a mute nod. Unlike some of the other mourners, Johanna didn’t take the lack of verbal response personally. She knew Katniss sometimes had a hard time with words when she was upset.

There was no money left for babysitting after that. Apparently the family got some kind of settlement from the company, but Mr. Everdeen had no life insurance. Jo called asking for Katniss several times in the months following, but Katniss always claimed she was too busy to come over. Eventually Jo resorted to dropping by the house one day. While Katniss appeared relieved to see her, she wouldn’t let her inside. It was a bad time, she said. It was always a bad time.

Midway through April, things somehow got worse. Johanna was studying at the kitchen table after school when the phone rang. Mrs. Mason answered, and Jo didn’t pay much attention to the conversation until her mother’s voice turned dark. “Oh no.” There was a short pause. “Let me ask her.” Muffling the receiver in her chest, she turned to her daughter with a worried look. “Johanna, are you able to babysit the Everdeen kids?”

Despite the ominous tone the conversation had taken, Jo couldn’t help but perk up. “When?”

“Now. It’s one of their neighbours on the phone. Mrs. Everdeen just got taken away in an ambulance.”

Johanna’s eyes widened and she slammed her textbook shut decisively. “I’ll hop on my bike,” she answered, already out of her seat. “Be there in ten minutes.”

When Johanna arrived at the house, she was surprised to find Katniss already chopping vegetables for a salad while a pan heated on the stove. “A bit early for dinner, don’t you think?”

Katniss shrugged, barely glancing her way. “Something to do.”

“What’re you making?”

“I dunno. Scrambled eggs, maybe?”

Poking around in the fridge, Jo frowned at how empty it was. “No bacon. Maybe some toast to round it out?” Katniss nodded and Jo joined her at the counter again. “When was the last time your mom went shopping?”

“January 10th,” answered Katniss flatly. When Jo’s eyebrows flew up, she smirked at the cutting board. “I’ve been doing the shopping. In little bits, so it didn’t raise any red flags.”

“Red flags?” Katniss didn’t answer, and Johanna was about to pry further when Prim entered the kitchen. Her quivering jaw and tear-stained cheeks quickly stole Jo’s attention, and she knelt in front of the young girl and wrapped her up in a hug.

“Is she gonna be okay?” blubbered Prim, squeezing her thin arms around Jo’s ribs.

“I dunno,” admitted Jo. When the girl sniffled into her shoulder, she backtracked, “I don’t know anything, Prim. I’m just here so you guys don’t have to be alone.”

“It’s not like we need a babysitter,” Katniss snarked from behind her. “We’ve been doing just fine all this time.”

For some reason, that remark burrowed under Johanna’s skin and sparked a fire in her belly. Turning her head to glare at the older sister, she snapped, “Do you want me to leave, Katniss? Is that it?” Katniss dropped her eyes silently and Jo pressed, “Well?”

Katniss pursed her lips and finally looked up. “No,” she answered quietly, the vulnerability in her face catching Jo off guard. That did more to convince her than the answer itself.

Neither girl seemed keen on explaining what had happened, so Johanna didn’t pry. For now. But Katniss’s remark about needing something to do inspired her to provide distractions. Once they’d finished dinner and washed the dishes, she took them out for a walk around the neighborhood. Prim was finally starting to calm down, but Jo held her hand anyway as they strolled the darkening streets. Katniss silently flanked Jo’s other side, eyes mostly on the ground. But after a few minutes, she surprised Jo by taking her other hand. Knowing better than to comment on it, Jo responded with only a gentle squeeze.

Exhausted from the emotions of the day, Prim passed out on the couch shortly after 7:30, halfway through some cartoon the others had agreed to watch for her benefit. Johanna carried her upstairs and tucked her into bed, not bothering to wake her to put on PJs. By the time she got back, Katniss had set up her old Nintendo console and popped in MarioKart. She had newer games, but Jo only knew how to play the old-school 90’s games they used to play when they were little kids. Her family never had a console, so she only ever got to play video games at friends’ houses.

After one Mushroom Cup devoid of their usual trashtalk, Johanna put her controller aside and tapped Katniss on the knee. When she made grudging eye contact, Jo asked, “Katniss, what’s going on? Why are you doing everything for your mom? Has she been sick?”

“Something like that,” muttered Katniss, pushing her start button.

Having none of this, Jo switched the TV off and tossed the remote over the back of the couch, culling a glare from the cranky preteen. “Katniss,” she insisted. “What happened to her?”

Sighing heavily at the carpet, Katniss delayed a moment before answering. “She tried to kill herself.” Glancing up to catch Johanna’s shocked expression, she continued, “She’s been lying in bed a lot lately. Missing work, not even getting up to cook dinner.” Jaw twitching, she dropped her eyes again. “Anyway, Prim went in to check on her after school and found her unconscious in a pool of her own vomit. She was terrified.”

“Oh my god.” Her brain shocked numb, it took a moment for Jo to deduce, “So you’ve been doing everything because your mom was too depressed?”

Katniss nodded. “I didn’t want anyone to find out. What if they take us away? Split us up?”

The thought of Katniss leaving tightened Jo’s chest painfully, but she tried to stay objective. “Maybe that would be better. I mean, if you were with someone who could take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself,” snapped Katniss.

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“I like it here!” Katniss shot back, surprisingly loud and shrill. “I like my home. This is where… this is where everything was right.” Her voice cracked on that last word, her face crumpling.

“Hey…” Johanna scooted closer and drew Katniss into her arms. She came surprisingly willingly. Jo’s eyes burned and a lump grew in her throat at the feeling of Katniss’s body trembling under her hands as she tried to hold back tears.

“Where’s he gone?” Katniss whimpered into her shoulder several moments later, her voice hoarse and cracking once again.

“I wish I knew,” said Jo. “But your mom’s still here. And so am I.”

“No, she isn't.” Feeling Jo turn her head to look at her questioningly, Katniss explained, “Even if she comes home, she's not… here.”

Mulling this over a moment, Johanna admitted, “I get why you didn't want to talk to me about this. I can have a bit of a big mouth.”

Katniss laughed despite herself and finally lifted her head, making Jo smile. “A bit?”

Wiping a tear from Katniss’s cheek, Jo continued, “But I’ll listen, and I won't tell, okay? I’m here for you. And I always will be, even when no one else is.”

Eyes dropping to the couch, Katniss sniffled and hugged her own midsection. “Promise?”

“Yeah,” said Jo, pulling her back into the hug. She didn’t let go, and Katniss didn’t mind.

It was several minutes before Katniss broke the silence, murmuring into Jo’s shoulder. “I love you.”

Johanna could barely make out the words, muffled as they were. But she did. Swallowing hard, she squeezed Katniss tighter. “I love you too.”

Eventually Katniss broke down into another round of sobs, and this time she didn’t try to fight them off. Hot tears streamed down her face as she choked out how much she missed her father. Jo could do nothing to stem the tide even if she tried, and she didn’t. She had a feeling Katniss hadn’t had a chance to break down since he died, what with all the responsibility that had fallen on her shoulders.

When her eyes ran dry and she was left leaning on Jo for support, Jo eased herself back, drawing Katniss down onto the couch with her. Jo’s heart simultaneously broke and swelled when Katniss grabbed a fistful of her shirt, latching onto her the way she used to when she was little. Ghosting fingertips up and down her spine, Jo sang her a lullaby she remembered Mr. Everdeen singing to his daughters when they were babies. He had a beautiful voice.

Katniss eventually drifted off, her fist loosening and breathing turning rhythmic. Jo waited a few moments to be sure before pulling the blanket draped over the back of the couch down and onto them, swaddling them in warmth. She may have dozed off too, because she found herself blinking bewilderedly at the sound of the doorbell.

It didn’t even occur to Johanna who it must be, further evidence she may not have been fully awake. Trying not to jostle Katniss, she slowly wiggled out from under her. It didn’t matter anyway, Katniss was out like a light and didn’t stir at all until the doorbell rang a second time just as Jo was getting to her feet. Reacting to the girl’s fluttering eyelids, Jo planted a kiss on her forehead before going to the door.

Standing on the porch was one of the most bizarre-looking women Johanna had ever seen. Spring green suit, golden paisley neck scarf, a heavily made up face and bright pink hair. That last detail was just making Jo think she should go back to doing red highlights like she had as a kid when the woman spoke up. “Hello, are you Johanna?”

Cringing at the woman’s gratingly high and chipper tone, Jo demanded, “Who’s asking?”

“I’m Effie Trinket from the Ministry of Children and Family Development. I’m here to pick up Katniss and Primrose and take them to their temporary home.”

“They’re sleeping!” snapped Johanna, her mouth hanging open in shock. “Can’t you people just come back tomorrow?”

Effie pursed her lips. “No. We’ve found a placement for them across town, and the family is waiting.”

Jo’s eyelids fluttered as she absorbed this. “So they’ll be together?”

“Yes.”

Sighing in a mix of resignation and relief, Jo turned and tracked back to the living room. Easing herself into a squat beside the couch, she held off on waking Katniss for a few seconds, gazing at her face instead. It took much willpower to lift her hand and gently shake the girl’s shoulder, because she knew this was the last moment before her life got destroyed. Again.

“Katniss,” mumbled Johanna. The girl stirred but otherwise didn’t respond. “Katniss, open your eyes.”

When Katniss finally obeyed, the trepidation in her gaze told Jo she already knew. The apology in Jo’s expression must have confirmed it, because her lip quivered a little and she barely managed to whisper, “Don’t.”

“Someone’s here to get you,” Jo pushed out before she could lose her composure. “I’m sorry.”

“You said everything would be okay,” Katniss whispered lamely, staring up at Jo.

“I know,” gulped Johanna. “I didn’t know what would happen, if your mom would be okay to come back or…”

Katniss transformed before Jo’s eyes as she trailed off, gaze and resolve hardening in one long blink. “It’s not your fault,” she said blankly. “Is Prim awake yet?”

“No.”

Wiping her eyes, Katniss nodded and sat up. “Okay. I’ll tell her.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Jo told her, resting a hand on her knee.

Her gleaming charcoal eyes narrowed incredulously. “Of course I do! Who else is going to? You?” Katniss stalked away, pausing briefly at the foot of the stairs before ascending them on unsteady legs, keeping her jaw set tightly.

Not wanting to intrude during the private moment, Jo wandered back to the door where the woman stood waiting. Doing her best adult impression, she mumbled, “You want some tea or something?” It wasn’t a very good impression.

“I’m fine, thank you,” said Effie. “But if you could help the girls pack, keep them on track, that would be very helpful.”

“I can do that. How soon do they need to be ready?”

“The sooner the better,” the woman chirped with a smile that struck Jo as wildly inappropriate given the circumstances. “They don’t need to pack a lot - they’ll have a chance to come back and get more things if necessary, but it’s getting late.”

“All right. I’ll go hurry them up.” As she turned to retreat inside, Jo finally remembered her manners. They had never been her forte. “You can come in if you want,” she tossed over her shoulder on the way to the stairs.

Upstairs, she found a dazed-looking Prim packing a bag while Katniss encouraged her and laid things out for her on the bed. Catching the older sister’s eye from across the bed, she said, “Let me help Prim. You need to get your own bag ready.” Katniss narrowed her eyes and Jo quickly explained, “You don’t need a lot, but you need to be quick. The lady said you can come back and get more later.”

The look Katniss continued to give her made Johanna squirm. It was somehow both a dead-eyed stare and withering glare. Finally, Katniss grabbed the cat stuffie sitting on Prim’s pillow and placed it beside the bag on the bed. “Here, don’t forget Buttercup.” Then she rounded the bed and brushed by Jo without a word on the way to her own room.

Prim was distraught, but at least she was manageable. Shell shocked, but easily directed. Katniss had already done most of the work anyway, but Jo helped Prim pick out a few more things to stuff in her bag before guiding her downstairs and into the waiting car. When she went back into the house to get Katniss, she found her in the hallway with a backpack slung over her shoulder and a duffel bag at her feet, staring at a picture of her parents on their wedding day.

“Katniss?” Approaching slowly, Jo laid a tentative hand on her shoulder. She’d barely made contact before Katniss jerked away, whipping around to face her. Assuming she was just jumpy, Jo tried again, reaching in to tuck a tendril of hair behind her ear. “Hey…”

Katniss shook her head sharply, stepping back before Johanna could make contact. “Don’t. I can’t start crying again. I have to be strong for Prim.”

Chest suddenly cramping, Jo assured her, “You don’t have to be anything. You’re just a kid.”

“I’m almost twelve.”

“Exactly.”

Face blank as ever, Katniss stated, “Johanna, I’m all she has.” Then she squared her shoulders bravely, grabbed the bag and walked out the door, not looking back.

She did look back, though. After tossing her stuff in the trunk and closing it with finality, Katniss glanced back at the house. Then her gaze jumped to the girl standing on the curb and she visibly swallowed, her terror shining through for just a couple seconds. That was when Jo stepped in with a quiet “C’mere.” Katniss leaned into Jo and clung to her one last time, if only for a moment. Jo clung right back, struggling to keep her own panic under wraps. “I love you,” she whispered, palming Katniss’s head with one hand and rubbing the other up and down her back. “I love you so much.”

Katniss sniffled and pulled back, eyes on the ground. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Johanna’s throat was starting to swell, but she forced her voice to stay even as she gave the girl’s shoulder one last squeeze. “Call me, okay?”

“Yeah,” Katniss grunted with a curt nod, then she got in the car and closed the door behind her, immediately turning her attention to Prim. As the car pulled away, both girls looked back at her for a second, and Jo gave them a wave that she hoped didn’t look as helpless as it felt.

Stepping back into the empty house was surreal. Johanna didn’t quite feel like she was in her body as she wandered the shell of a home and took in all the signs of a life that had just ended. A damp dishtowel slung haphazardly over the stove handle in the kitchen. The wedding picture and a family photo from a couple years ago hanging in the hallway. The Nintendo console sitting abandoned on the living room floor. Johanna crouched and unplugged it, robotically put it back on its shelf. No sense leaving a mess.

There was no real reason for her to go upstairs other than her weird need to look at all the empty rooms. Later on, she reasoned maybe she’d been looking for some kind of closure, or some rhyme or reason to what happened. Or maybe it was curiosity, considering where she stopped first. Poking her head into Mr. And Mrs. – check that, Mrs. Everdeen’s bedroom, she found a patch of wet carpet and a stripped bed. Johanna wasn’t surprised, and in fact it allowed her an ironic smile. Of course Katniss already dealt with it. Little Miss Practicality. Little Miss Do Something to Avoid Feeling Something.

Prim’s room was the mess it always was; the chaotic minutes of packing a bag hadn’t done much to make it any worse. Barbies and Legos littered the floor, a carton of crayons laid open on a rumpled coloring book in the corner. Johanna spent a few minutes tidying, unsure whether her true motivation was to clean up the mess or to avoid the final bedroom. In hindsight, it was probably a bit of both.

Finally pushing open the door to Katniss’s room, Johanna sighed. She and Prim were polar opposites in so many ways, evidenced by her spotless and organized bedroom. Even her posters were hung straight, decidedly uncool for someone her age. Jo’s eyes floated over them. Buffy, Sonic, Mia Hamm, Evanescence, Halo 2. Gravitating to the bed, Johanna sat down with a view of the bookshelf. It mostly housed novels and sports trophies, but she felt a jolt in her stomach as her eyes settled on something else.

She must have stood back up, because next thing she knew she was standing by the bookshelf and gently picking up Mr. Grumps. The stern teddy stared back at her as coldly as his owner would in her worst moments. Johanna frowned, wondering how Katniss could have forgotten him. She reminded Prim to bring Buttercup, after all. And as much as Katniss considered herself basically a grown up, Jo knew she was still somewhat attached to Mr. Grumps. She’d caught her sleeping with him the odd time in recent years, though she knew better than to ever mention it. As she continued to stare into his eyes, it dawned on her. Katniss hadn’t forgotten him. She left him behind on purpose.

Squeezing the bear tight to her chest, Johanna sank back down on the bed. Hot tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over, dripping onto his matted fur. It didn’t matter. Katniss’s days of being a kid were officially over. Johanna sniffled and nuzzled the damp fur that smelled of dirt and Katniss. “She’ll be back for you, buddy,” she assured him resolutely. “She’ll be back for you.”

***

No one else seemed to understand the toll this upheaval took on Johanna. To be fair, even Johanna didn’t quite understand it. It almost felt like it was her own family that had been taken away. Maybe Mr. Everdeen was onto something when he said she was practically part of theirs. Not that it mattered, anyway. That family was ripped apart now.

When Johanna arrived home late that same evening, her mother greeted her at the door with a concerned expression. “How is everything over there?”

“Not good,” said Jo. “Their mom tried to kill herself.” Watching her mother’s face fall in horror, she added, “Yeah. And they’re putting them in foster care.”

Mrs. Mason shook her head. “Those poor kids. First their father, and now this.” Johanna nodded glumly as she kicked off her shoes. “Have you heard how she’s doing?”

“Mrs. Everdeen?” Her mother nodded. “No idea. The woman who came to pick them up didn’t say anything about that. I didn’t even think to ask. Don’t know why.”

“You were probably overwhelmed. And more worried about the kids. It was your job to take care of them, after all.”

“Yeah, and I did a great job,” Jo muttered bitterly. All she’d ever wanted was to keep those kids safe and happy, and she’d failed. Some things were just not in her control. Not the explosion, or their mom’s mental health, or where they got sent next…

Suddenly, Johanna perked up. “Mom, do you think we could take care of them?”

“Honey,” Mrs Mason began.

“Why not?” protested Jo. “You get money for it.”

“It takes time to apply to do all that. They could well be back home by then. Besides, all my kids have just grown up. I don’t think I can handle any more.”

Jo planted her hands on her hips. “She’s my friend.”

“Yeah, and she’s going to be with someone who can take care of her now, let her worry about being a kid instead of running a family,” reasoned Mrs. Mason.

Jo’s eyelids fluttered as she absorbed this. “Wait, you knew?”

Her mother sighed. “I knew Paula didn’t have her shit together and was mostly leaving them to fend for themselves. Good thing Katniss is as mature and independent as she is, or they could have gotten taken away a lot sooner.”

“Katniss said she wasn’t going to work,” mumbled Jo.

“And when she did, she was pretty useless.” Mrs. Mason’s brow creased in thought. “She was just fired last week. That might have had something to do with it.”

Johanna scoffed in disbelief. Tears seeped into her voice as she spat, “Well I hope your boss feels great about himself, because now my oldest friend is gone.”

“Johanna-”

“Just leave me alone,” snapped Jo as she stormed away. “You don’t care.”

Deep down, she knew she wasn’t being fair, but she was too upset to admit it or to care how her outbursts affected others. Her mother wasn’t the only victim. When Blight found her sulking in the cafeteria at lunch the next day and asked if she was okay, she went off on him too.

“My mom’s coworker tried to kill herself yesterday, and I had to go over and watch the kids,” she explained. Her throat threatening to close on her again, she swallowed hard. “They took them away.”

Blight blinked curiously. “The kids you babysit?”

Jo choked out a painful half sob. “Yeah. The kids I babysit.” Realizing this was the only context she had ever given Blight for why this would upset her made her feel even worse about herself. Isn’t that what she had called Katniss? ‘Just one of the kids I babysit’? Shame didn’t even begin to describe what she felt.

“Hey,” Blight said, attempting to comfort her with a hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be okay. You’ll find another job.”

Jo’s eyes snapped up and bored into his. All the anger she had been directing inward now boiled to the surface, and she was overcome by an overwhelming urge to slap him. She didn’t, though. That would have been a great way to get suspended and grounded. Instead she growled, “Jackass.”

As she stormed away, Blight called after her in confusion. “Jo? Johanna, wait!”

Johanna didn’t wait. And though she apologized later and attempted to explain, she and Blight didn’t last long after that. It wasn’t his fault, but she lost interest in a lot of things in the midst of the emotional upheaval, including him. Her heart had never been in it the way she thought it should have been, anyway.

Weeks went by, and Katniss never called. Johanna dropped by the house several times in hopes their mom would be there, but no one was ever home. No one at the Ministry would give her any information. She wasn’t family, after all. Months went by. Eventually she stopped perking up at the sound of the phone, stopped asking her mom if she’d heard anything. She had no way of finding Katniss, and Katniss didn’t want to be found. She was gone.

#comic/jhc adaptation #writing #joniss #fanfic #femslash #thg #au fanfic #babysitter au

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dreamhimcloser · 8 years ago

Text

YARN | 01

Word count: 7,520 || 02 Summery: The mere idea that someone will kiss you while you slept made you shiver with disgust, but your educators promised you time and time again that this is exactly how you reach true love. Genre: Dragon!AU Rating: This one isn’t rated but the next part will be.

You sighed as you stared out of the window, gentle wind caressing your face. Your father fell asleep besides you about an hour into the journey, just like he told you he would before, when he promises that nothing lulls you to sleep the way carriages does. You took his word since you barely left the palace and had no prior experience of your own, but ended up disappointed with the lack of sleep you got.

Even though you preferred to sleep through this long ride, a part of you was happy that you stayed awake. The landscape served as a grim reminder of what you'll be leaving behind you, as you'll be under a magical coma soon, but something about the wind in your hair felt free in comparison to the castle. That's as much freedom as you're going to get, since the next time you'll wake up it'll be by the kiss of a prince who will soon claim you as his wife.

The mere idea that someone will kiss you while you slept made you shiver with disgust, but your educators promised you time and time again that this is exactly how you reach true love.

It still sounded disturbing to you, but no one seemed to mind you not liking the idea.

Somehow your father decided the next king should be a knight, since you were his only daughter and god forsake there being a queen to rule the land. You had a bitter spot in your heart for that assumption, but again, no one seemed to mind what you had to say about the role you were rightfully born into and was taken away from you.

The carriage slowed as the road got harder for the wheels to handle, which signaled you're getting closer to the tower. You closed your eyes, ignoring the numbness in the hand you leaned against to get a gush of clean air in your lungs. The horizon shone green, much closer than what you could see from the walls of the castle, and it warmed your heart to see.

Maybe the man who will rescue you from the tower would take you traveling somewhere. If you already have absolutely no control over your life, at least you could see the world.

On the other hand, you doubted anyone would actually come. Having to fight a dragon in order to be king seemed like way too much risks for an even bigger headache.

A movement in the sky caught your eye, making you lean your head out of the carriage's window to confirm that yes, the flying object was in fact the dragon that would be guarding you and fighting knights while you're in a coma. You felt shock settle in your stomach as you watched it fly - he's not even restrained? It did seem weird that there will be no other human besides you in the tower and the dragon still needed to be fed, but how could they just let him roam free like that? What if it ate you? What if it burned your room down by mistake?

You'll be in a coma, a dragon can't be loose if you can't even defend yourself.

You fell back into your seat, eyes shut tight and heart hammering in your chest. This entire situation didn't make sense at all, you could barely believe you're actually going to walk into it, and live it, for god knows how long.

A quick look at your father clarified you won't be able to share your worries here, which left you with one option. You leaned out of the window again, screaming the driver's name - Hoseok. Your father didn't even react to your scream, but the carriage did slow down enough for you to move to the driver's seat. You opened the carriage's door, gathering the excess fabric of your dress in one hand so your legs would have better movement range. Your other hand held onto the roof tightly and you lifted yourself up, the driver's hand coming out to stabilize you as you made the move.

The only reason the driver of the carriage even let you get out of it without your father's permission was because it was Hoseok. Your entire life whenever you went horseback riding Hoseok was your companion, just a guard who tagged along to make sure you won't have any troubles until you're safely back at the stable. You crushed on him for years, until you decided to talk to him and finding friendship with him to be much preferable. As a member of the royal family, you couldn't have a relationship with a non-royal person without it ending in someone's death. Most likely his.

Hoseok smiled at you as you finally managed to sit beside him, making you smile back through your unease. He grew close enough for you to willingly protect him with your life, and the last thing you wanted was for him to lose his life over a petty crush.

"Did you see that?" You pointed towards the dragon while strapping yourself in before Hoseok could even scold you for not doing it immediately.

"I did, his majesty kinda lost it," Hoseok whipped the rains to make the horses walk faster again. "You're going to live with a dragon."

"An untied, possibly hungry dragon," You specified, crossing your arms over your chest. "How does that make sense to anyone? What, it'll leave to feed itself and leave me unguarded? Or worse, what if it'll eat me?"

"I don't think it's going to eat you, Y/N. You're too salty."

You narrowed your eyes at Hoseok as he tried very hard to hold his laughter back, and failed miserably at it.

"The worst part of this horrible joke is that it made me realize how much I'll miss you," You wrapped your hand around Hoseok's bicep, just touching the fabric of his simple shirt. He threw you a smile over his shoulder before covering your fingers with his hand, returning the reassuring touch you wanted from him. "The next time you'll see me I'll be off to get married. Do you think my husband would mind us riding together?"

"Probably."

"I still want to ride with you though," You straightened your back to lean your head against his shoulder as your grip on his bicep tightened. The rough rocking of the carriage didn't make it as comfortable as it could be, but his warmth was worth it. "I don't want a different guard."

"We'll have to hide our connection well for it to not bother your husband to be," Hoseok's voice sounded strangely troubled to you. "I don't want to give up on our time together either."

"Good, then we'll keep as we are," You lifted your head from his shoulder to look into his eyes, seeing the troubled feeling flowing in his eyes as well. He held your stare for a few moments and you felt something meaningful was surging between you, even if you couldn't put your finger on what it was exactly.

A small smile held his lips as Hoseok turned his eyes to the road again, "We'll arrive soon."

"I hope soon never comes."

"I made sure the tower will be colored red because I remembered you like it," Your father smiled at you as you walked closer to the tower's entrance. You held yourself back from telling him you won't be seeing the red anyways since you'll be in a coma and all. Hoseok already made sure to lighten your mood enough for you to hold your tongue by fake-falling on top of your dad in order to wake him up. Your guard walked besides you, close enough for your hands to occasionally brush as you walk. You bumped your hand against his on purpose, showing gratitude for how close he's staying by your side.

"This is the dragon," Your father then pointed towards the enormous dragon which stood by the entrance and you couldn't possibly miss. "I made sure he's well trained before letting you stay in his care. Hopefully the next time you'll see him, he'll be dead."

The dragon's eyes moved from staring straight ahead towards your father, and you could swear you saw it frown its eyebrows. As if dragons could even have humanized facial expressions. Its eyes moved then to yours, and anything else your father might have said got swallowed in its stare. Its eyes were brown and unbelievably warm, the frown you thought you saw straightening out as its eyes widened. It blinked, lids from all four sides of its eyes moving to cover the orbs before pulling back.

It should have creeped you out or scared you to some extent, but instead it made a warm feeling spread through your stomach for a reason you couldn't identify.

You lowered your eyes immediately, grabbing Hoseok's hand in an attempt to keep yourself grounded. He squeezed your hand and you could feel his stare, both showing concern at your sudden reaction. As you passed through the entrance you peaked at the dragon, and it went back to starting straight ahead, no longer keeping his eyes on you. The warm feeling disappeared as if it was never there.

Hoseok made a surprise noise as he looked up at all the stairs you'll have to climb to get to your room, making you chuckle. Heavy steps behind you alerted you of the dragon's approach but you pushed down the need to look, dragging Hoseok to begin the climb instead. Your father's breathing got more ragged as you progressed, and he asked for a break every time you completed an entire circle of the tower. It got a little tiresome after a while, but all you needed to feel energized again was a bright smile from Hoseok, whose stamina held in ways you never imagined yours would.

The room at the top of the stairs was already open when you reached it, and you spotted a man pacing inside. Hoseok reached the top of the stairs with you, his hand closing around yours as he walked you into the room. The moment you stepped inside the man turned and you recognized his pleasant looking face as your father's magic related matters advisor. You knew he was a working wizard before receiving the royal invite to work for your family. It made sense he's the man your father asked to come and put you in a coma.

"Princess," He bowed immediately after meeting your eye, straitening only when you told him it was okay. Hoseok already took a seat on the large bed that stood in the room, his hand patting the bed. You shared a smile as you walked towards him, ignoring the curious look the wizard sent your way for such a familiar behavior towards a simple carriage driver.

"My father gave up on climbing about two circles down. Would you be kind enough to float him up?"

The wizard nodded, leaving you and Hoseok to sit on the bed in the empty room.

"It's cozy," Hoseok commented, bumping his shoulder against yours.

"I'll be too much in a coma to enjoy it," You bumped his back, but stayed pressed against him, your head finding a very comfortable resting space on his shoulder. Hoseok being close was the most comforting thing you had while you were forced to go through this horrible ordeal just to find someone who your father believes will rule the kingdom better then you. The very idea was insulting, but you were more than willing to let it go if you could escape being comatose in a tower guarded by a dragon.

Honestly, just why.

"Let's begin!" Your father exclaimed cheerfully as he entered the room, a little less red in the face then the last time you saw him. Hoseok shut upright, stepping away from your bed without looking at you. You knew your father cannot question your relationship, especially not when you won't have the ability to protect him for god knows how long starting from this day.

The wizard gestures for you to lay down and you followed quickly after his instructions. Your father stood by the head of the bed, his hand going through your hair in a surprisingly intimate gesture you had never expected to receive from him. The wizard spoke of what you'll experience while under the spell, and your father interrupted him more than once to reassure you - or maybe himself - that it's all safe and will be over before you even know it.

The truth was, you didn't want to hear anything from either of them. You didn't care what you'll go through or how long it'll last, you couldn't care less. What you wanted is for Hoseok to sit next to you until the last possible moment, making you smile and laugh with his silly actions so you could forget how weird the situation you were forced into really was. Instead, he stood on the far corner of the room, staring out of the window above your bed, eyes lost on the horizon. You knew he couldn't tell you anything even if he was looking at you, but maybe the warmth of his eyes would be enough to make you feel better.

"Are you ready?" You looked up at your father's light smile as you felt a heavy feeling setting into your stomach. This time, when your eyes moved to Hoseok he was looking at you. You could see how worried he was, but he pushed all of his feelings down in favor of giving you a wide smile, pouring all of his positivity and cheerfulness into it just to make you feel safer.

You knew he couldn't speak, but he mouthed It'll be alright and you could feel the movement of lips turning into pure warmth inside of you, biting into the heavy feeling from before. You nodded, "I'm ready."

You laid down, closing your eyes as weird words began spilling from the wizard's lips. You could feel the magic coursing around you in circles, slowly closing more and more around your body. It tingled in your fingertips, slowly putting them under a blanket of numbness. It spread in your veins and you tried focusing solely on breathing. You repeated your father's and Hoseok's words in your head with every breath you took, allowing their good intensions to calm you down.

It'll be alright.

Before you'll even know it, it'll be over. It'll be alright.

Just like the wizard promised, your sleep was like a slideshow. He included in his spell pictures of sceneries, animals running through forest and children playing. It all felt warm, you felt safe, you knew of the coma yet you were unafraid. Occasionally you heard a voice that spoke through the room you were in, and you thought maybe the words came from maids that your father sent to clean you up, even if no one even talked about sending anyone. After a few more visits from the voice you recognized it as a man's voice, which got you a little worried. Floating between consciousness and under, you couldn't tell if it was a knight that came to wake you up, Hoseok, or a man that came for unknown causes.

The real question was, why did the dragon let the same man come back so many times?

The words he spoke were muffled too hard for you to hear, but something told you those words were spoken to you. The voice was deep and it caressed your ear enough to make you uncaring for the cause, since he obviously caused you no harm. It took some of the solitude that nestled inside you, and swept it away.

As the days passed, you began hearing the words easier, and the feeling in your feet returned. It obviously meant the spell was wearing off, and it worried you. Could there be other ways to remove the spell aside of a kiss? Is that why the man keeps coming back?

You reached a part of the dream where you were in a meadow when everything around you started getting darker. Panic began to arise in your chest as the darkness neared you, slowly creeping to take everything you could see away from you. Your fingered tingled and you could feel yourself frowning before your body lunged into a sitting position on your bed, eyes feeling heavy as you tried to open them through the harshness of the light.

It took you a few moments too long to understand the spell was broken, but there were no lips touching yours. No physical contact at all. No reason for it to be broken.

"What." The same voice you heard in your dream spoke from the corner of the room, and you lifted your eyes to see the source of it. You expected to see a tough looking man, maybe in armor, or carrying a sword. Your eyebrows rose as you took in the appearance of a boy, wonder-filled eyes staring straight at you through brunette bangs that covered his eyebrows, flacks of green catching your eye. Your eyes trailed down farther to soft looking lips, open slightly with the shock, and you blushed from a tremor in your heart as they trailed down farther to take in how long his body stretched as he didn't even sit straight in his seat.

"You're not supposed to wake up yet," The boy blinked at you.

"You're not supposed to even be here," You returned, slipping your feet off of the bed to stretch them in the air. Your body felt stiff with the lack of movement even with the spell that coursed through your body at time to keep it active.

"Um," The boy stood up, a hand moving the scratch the back of his head. His eyes were still on you, and you wondered why he hasn't introduced himself, or bowed yet. Even if a knight came in to slay a dragon and save you, he should still treat you like the princess that you are. Royalty should not be taken so lightly.

You folded your arms across your chest, sitting upright as you watched the boy shift his weight from one foot to the other. "I see you're not in a rush at all. Did you slay the dragon?"

"Did I – what?" The boy's eyes widened as he stared at you, looking extremely shaken by a simple sentence.

"Was there a huge dragon outside?" The boy still stared at you, and you huffed, shaking your head. "Of course, he probably went out to feed or something. Leaving me exposed to god knows what, you come by a lot so you must have learned his patterns by now. Amazing, father wants someone who can run the kingdom better than me, yet he can't even think of ways to test them as better. I might as well challenge them myself, for the kingdom's sake."

"Princess," The boy took a few steps closer, his hands held out in front of him in surrender as he seemed highly confused. "I didn't leave you exposed or anything, I feed here to make sure you're safe," One of his hands pointed at the table where he sat when you first opened your eyes, and you spotted a half full plate that would support his words perfectly. "I'd never leave you unconscious in an abandoned tower completely alone."

You carefully pieced the meaning behind his words together, staring at him in disbelief. His hair, the unbelievable expressions on the dragon's face, the fact it was free, the way he answered you. The fact he looked confused when you woke up, since he's obviously not here to rescue you. His lips stretched to an awkward square smile, and the chuckling noises that made with the gesture sounded very uncomfortable. He slowly lowered his hands as your frown got deeper, your eyes never leaving his gaze.

"You're the dragon," You finally let out.

"I am," he confirmed with a nod, slowly returning back to his seat.

"You," You pointed at him, speaking slower this time as you tried wrapping your head around this disturbingly sensible information. "Are a dragon."

"Yes."

"No!" Your outburst made him jump in his seat. "You're human!"

"I'm a human dragon," His lips stretched to a smile again, smaller and less square this time. "My name is Taehyung, by the way. It's nice to finally talk to you."

"You're a human and you have a name, but you're also a dragon?" You tried, testing how the information felt on your tongue. The answer was – very wrong.

"Okay, one second," Taehyung stood again, this time climbing on the bed next to you, making you turn as you watched him crawl to the window and climb to sit on it with his legs hanging out. He twisted his body to give you a grin before he pushed off, out of the tower.

A scream left your mouth as you threw yourself on it, looking out just in time to see the last moments of change before the boy who jumped out of the window because a dragon, beating his wings to sour up through the air. The dragon turned in the air before diving through the entrance to the tower that was right below your window.

When he re-entered the room from the door behind you, a few scaled still lingered on his face and arms before smoothing themselves and settling in as a regular part of his skin.

"No way," You gaped at him, watching the slow steps he took into the room and the sheepish look on his face. His eyebrows rose playfully as he watched a wide smile break out on your face. "You're a dragon man!"

"Human dragon, but yeah," Taehyung stopped a few steps away from you, leaning slightly forward with the cheekiest look on his face. "How cool is that?"

"Very cool!"

"I know," Taehyung looked infinitely pleased with the enthusiasm you showed as he straightened, lifting a hand to point at his food. "Do you mind if I'll finish eating?"

"Oh no, please go ahead. I'm the one who interrupted your meal to begin with." This time you were the sheepish one. Taehyung lowered his head in thanks before making his way back to the chair, and digging right back into his meal.

"Are you hungry?" Taehyung looked back at you as he asked, his mouth filled with goodness.

"No, the spell kept me from getting hungry," You answered, before a realization hit you, making you freeze as you looked at his face.

The spell.

"Uh, Taehyung?" He hummed as he looked back at his plate, stuffing his mouth with more food. "Did you kiss me?"

Taehyung choked, throwing his fork on the table as he started hitting his chest. You shot up from the bed, hurrying to stuff the glass of water that stood by his plate into his hand, urging him to wash the food that caught in his throat with it. It took him a few moments to calm down as he sat back in his chair, one of his hands still on his chest.

You moved to sit on the edge of your bed, eyeing Taehyung as his breathing went back to normal. "Why would I kiss you?"

"The wizard said it's the only way to break the spell, and well," You gestured down at your body. "It's broken."

"Oh," Taehyung blinked at you. "No."

"What did you do then?"

A suspicious redness started in his cheeks, as he looked down at his food and shrugged once, "Nothing."

You nodded, puffing your cheeks as you remembered how shocked he looked when you woke up. If he tried waking you up, he probably wouldn't have reacted like that. Your eyes drifted across the room, seeing everything remained right as it was before. The only thing that seemed to change was the table Taehyung sat at, which was very reasonable given how he ate there three times a day. The food that disappeared quickly from his plate looked like he was the one who cooked it, so there probably was a kitchen around for his benefit.

"Is my father aware of your humanity?" You wondered aloud, feeling only slightly guilty that you're interrupting his meal again. Taehyung's eyes looked cheerful as they looked at you, and the thought that he must have been really lonely until you woke up crossed through your head.

"I think he is, he made the arrangement with my father," Taehyung hummed in between sentences, making sure he swallows without choking again. "I really hope he was joking about me dying though. I'm not going to kill anyone over you, just chase them away if they're not brave enough."

"Did anyone come at all?" You pushed yourself closer to the wall, pulling your knees to your chest as you leaned against it comfortably. Taehyung seemed naturally happy as he shook his head and stuffed more food in his mouth. "How long has it been?"

You watched him chew a little faster to answer your question, "A month."

"It felt like a few days to me," You chuckled. Taehyung messed with the bread in his hands, stuffing it with goodness before he stood, and handed it to you. The bright smile that graced his face took any negative response you could have given him as you reached for it, returning his smile as you took a bite. It tasted good, even though small preparing mistakes made it obvious he wasn't a good cook. You remained in silence for a few moments, both of you eating and stealing glances at each other. You could feel him watching you as you leaned your head back against the wall, closing your eyes.

"Taehyung," You heard him hum in reply, signaling you to continue, "What happens now? I mean, I was supposed to wake up to a man who vanquished you to marry me, and that obviously didn't happen. I have no idea what the next step is."

Taehyung looked at you for a few moments, lifting his feet to rest them on the table. He slid down his chair until his head was cradled by the back of it, eyes moving up to the ceiling. "My father told me once, when the unexpected happens, the only thing you have left is your wit. I trust his words a lot, so. That's the only advice I can give you."

It made perfect sense, and it was much more than the choice your father gave you. Finally, you could make a decision of your own about your life.

Living with Taehyung proved to be a very comfortable thing. He failed to treat you as royalty, but you found his natural happiness infectious enough to not really care. He cooked for you with the little experience he had, and you found that you were completely content with what he brought, even if you were used to the royal cook’s professionalism. You took the responsibility of washing clothes, and Taehyung in return was happy to share his clothes with you, since you only had one dress that was way too fancy to spend every day with. His clothes were huge on you and folding them so your hands and feet wouldn’t be covered took a while, but they were comfortable. They smelled like grass and smoke, just like Taehyung.

For two weeks you simply eyed him when he took his flights as you walked around the tower, trying to get used to walking again after an entire month without any real activity. After a while you started wondering what it would take for him to take you up there on his back.

Persuading him wasn't easy, even though you had a specific instructor who improved your negotiating abilities since you first discovered speech. For the first week, Taehyung’s reaction included widened his eyes at you and shaking his head strongly enough for his hair to fly around and get messy. He wouldn't even allow you to finish the sentence as he urgently reminded you of your status, how much keeping you healthy and alive was important for the good of the entire kingdom. You were the single child of the royal family after all.

Even though his unwavering refusal, you brought a reminder of it every single day in the hopes to be able to change his answer. Slowly he started hearing you out more, and a month after you woke up, Taehyung even talked to you about ways to keep you securely strapped to his back. Just to make sure nothing happens to you.

You started out by riding him like a horse when he was in dragon form. Climbing him was hard at first, it took you time to learn how not to rub his scales in a way that would hurt you. A few tries taught you the green scales are better to hold onto then the brown ones, and before you even knew it, you stayed as steady on his back as you would on a real horse’s back.

Taehyung seemed pleased with the progress, the excitement growing as he slowly began talking to you more about what lays beyond where your eyes reach, the beauty he’s seem before you arrive and kept him grounded close to the tower at all times.

The next stage included short flights. Taehyung never lifted himself more than ten feet off of the ground, to make sure he could crash his body down if he thought you weren’t completely safe. The wind blew in your hair and the thrill of flying was something you’ve never felt before. Any complain you could have had died right on your tongue before you could even begin to form them.

You knew Taehyung would never agree to take you far away from the tower, since it went strictly against the instructions he was given. Your only way out had to be with your rescuer. With that in mind, you set your eyes strictly on the roof of the tower, as Taehyung told you he once climbed there to watch the sunset. The opening you could sit on was just above the window of your room, so it wouldn’t be as dangerous.

Taehyung thought about it for a while, and as you washed your clothes you watched as he went up there, looking for any dangerous aspects that could possibly hurt you. By now you already knew Taehyung pretty well, and you knew that if something dangerous was actually up there, he’ll probably miss it even with all of his inspections. He was too careless in his personality to actually see danger as it is.

You heard footsteps coming your way on the grass that surrounded the tower, making you lift your eyes just in time for Taehyung’s head to block the sunlight from harming your eyes. “I’m done checking, I think it’s cool. We can take food up there and watch the sunset as we eat, you’ll like it.”

You hurriedly pulled yourself up, taking his hand to steady yourself through the quick motion. “Really? We can go tonight?”

Taehyung gave you a signature square smile as he nodded, tossing his light hair around. Your hand slipped from his as you began walking towards the house in excited steps. “It’s less dangerous then I thought it was, and I’ll be sitting in front of you so if anything happens I’ll be a buffer between you and the ground, it’ll be fine.”

“Wait, you’ll sit with your back to me?” You frowned up at him, narrowing your eyes slightly. Having dinner with him on the roof sounded amazing, but you really wanted to be able to see his smile the entire time.

Taehyung lifted a hand to ruffle the hair on the back of his head, a gesture you came to know so well. “Yeah, sorry. Your safety comes first, Princess.”

“You chose the worst time possible to mention my status.”

Taehyung simply chuckled in response, walking straight to the kitchen to keep his hands busy. Before he could even touch anything, an idea came to you, “Taehyung, what do you say about a blanket nest?” The boy stopped his motion to stare at you, eyes blinking as he tried getting the concept you were getting at. You chuckled at his expression, touching his arm lightly as you explained, “I mean, taking some warm blankets to spread up there on the roof, to keep us warm. Do you mind taking some up there?”

“Oh!” Taehyung’s eyes sparkled instantly as he finally understood what you tried to say. “It would! I’ll leave the food to you, make some yummy snacks for us.”

You nodded enthusiastically before giving him a thumbs up as he left the kitchen hurriedly. Snacks were easy to come by as you mixed some leftovers from previous meals. It contained everything you both loved, and along with warm blankets and pleasant company, you would probably have an amazing evening together.

The light streaming from the window dimmed with time, and by the time you gathered everything together, it was time. Taehyung waited for you by the kitchen’s entrance as you tried the table cloth to the top of the basket tightly, making sure everything will stay in place during the short ride up.

“All ready?” You could clearly make out the excitement in his voice as you nodded, taking the basket and following him outside. His shift was quick, but to you, it was as stunning as the first time you watched. His limbs stretched beyond their length as his back arched downwards, small, animalistic sounds leaving his lips as his head fell forward for the top half of his face to be covered by his growing hair. The wings folded from his back outwards, stretching sideways before lifting higher as he got down on his hands in knees. Scales broke out like rash against his skin, the scraping of them together already became a sound you got accustomed to. The last of sounds was the whip of his tail against the ground, growing out from his tail bone to give him balance through his shift.

The first time you watched, you were enchanted by it. A million questions flew out of your mouth, and you drank in any information he gave to some of them. The transformation didn’t hurt him, and the scraping of the scales was unpleasant only during the first few shifts. Flying was the best thing in the world, except when there was a storm outside. You had a million more to ask, but since the two of you lived together, you knew you had time.

Taehyung mentioned for you to get on his back when the transformation was done, and you noticed how more of his scales were now green and flagged safe. The climb was quick, and you wrapped your hands tightly around his neck, thighs pressing in to make sure you’re stable. “I’m ready!”

Taehyung nodded his head as he gently pushed off of the ground, wings coming to weakly flap against the air. It amazed you how gentle he always went when you were riding his back, as opposed to the quick and strong take offs he had when it was just him. Your eyes followed the tower’s tiles as they moved in front of you, before a small gasp left your lips as you caught sight of the nest Taehyung prepared for you. His tail wrapped around the tower, anchoring him to give you a better access to the blanket nest. You slid from his back, landing safely on your unbelievably fluffy covers.

You laid the basket out behind you as you turned around, watching Taehyung reach one giant paw at you as one of his legs appeared to step on the ledge. You took a hold of his paw, knowing it would soon turn into a hand in your own. The transformation back to human form was always faster, and before you noticed, you were the one giving Taehyung stability as he stepped into the ledge.

“We made it!” Taehyung threw himself down, lying with his head near the basket.

You giggled, coming to drop down on your knees next to him to begin organizing the food you brought. A few moments of rest later Taehyung pulled himself up to help you, clear satisfaction on his face as he eyed all the goods you collected for the both of you to share. As promised, he sat in front of you, his back to you as you handed him what he asked for over his shoulder. You lifted your knees up, leaning them against his back as you wrapped a blanket around his front, considering he took the gentle whips of cold wind for you and probably needed it more.

"I think the stars are especially bright tonight," Taehyung's voice rose out of the blue, making you raise your eyebrows at the back of his head. "Maybe they're lighting down just for us."

You moved your eyes up to the skies, taking in the small beads of light that indeed shone brightly above you. You scooted backwards to the window, leaning your back against it and stifling a giggle as Taehyung hurriedly scooted to lean against your knees again. He let his head drop backwards onto your knees and you watched him as he scanned the sky with that wondrous look that you associated with him so much.

"I'm glad they are," You replied, getting a hum in response.

You watches stars shine and fade, allowing your mind to wonder as Taehyung's body warmth kept you warm and cozy. You thought back to all the small troubles you left behind in the castle, how things would probably not change when you come back and in some miraculous way, how living with Taehyung here in an abandoned tower was the first time you actually made choices for yourself, even the smallest ones. The fact you were a doll for your surroundings to play with didn't hit you until you tasted actual freedom.

Here, the choice needs to be yours.

"Taehyung." The boy hummed again, his head dipping in the space between your knees so he could look at you, even if it was a highly uncomfortable position to maintain. "Can I ask you something?"

The smile stretched far on his lips, "You just did."

"No, like, a promise."

Taehyung nodded against your knees, hurriedly closing his eyes as the bangs fell into them. You gently brushed it away as you spoke, suddenly feeling a little too self-conscious, "When someone comes to take the challenge and fight you, do you think you could let me choose if I want him to beat you or not? I mean, I don't want you to actually confront those men. You won't need to even give them the time to try mostly."

Taehyung's eyes stayed trained on you, drinking in every word. When you were done, they stayed as focused as they were before, his eyebrows frowning a little.

You frowned back. "Is it ridiculous?"

"It's ridiculous that you felt you needed to especially ask that, Y/N," His eyebrows relaxed into their natural state, and once again, Taehyung looked at you with that special look that made the bottom of your stomach flutter. "I'm actually relieved you woke up, letting someone come up to you and kiss you when you're asleep was a really hard thought. I'm glad I don't need to think about that anymore."

You smiled at him, feeling a rock lifting from your chest. You managed to hold many conversations over your life, but none of them felt as free and warm as talking to Taehyung. "Thank you."

Taehyung lifted his hand, making you freeze as you watched them come closer until they came to touch the skin of your forehead. "With pleasure." His fingers soon left your forehead, leaving heat signatures behind that traveled across your entire face like wild fire before he repositioned his head in a more comfortable way, eyes returning to the stars.

You laid your head on the window top behind you, pulling your knees closer to your chest, taking heat from Taehyung's back until he scooted closer again. The flashing of stars and constant warmth lulled you to sleep, and you barely succeeded to respond when Taehyung turned and called your name. You felt him move around as the heaviness on your body got heavier, through slits in your eyes you noticed the feeling came from the blankets Taehyung piled on top of you.

He tugged the blanket you were lying on until it half covered your body, his voice coming as a whisper that made you shiver, telling you he's sorry for cuddling to you, but he could use the warmth. His much longer body pressed as closely as he could to you through all the layers you had on you, and you could still feel the faint feeling on his arm draped across you.

Honestly, you couldn't even think of a better way to fall asleep.

You woke up to a hidden sun being thick clouds, blankets wrapped tightly around you to keep the cold away and a body pressed close, the only changed thing was how close he was pressed to you. You could feel Taehyung's nose snuggly pressed to your cheek, his forehead at your temple. His breathe puffed against your cheek in a set rhythm, a small whine leaving his lips as he pulled you even closer to him, an automatic reaction to your steering as he still seemed asleep.

Your heart should not be beating so strongly right now.

A strange sort of feeling that you've never felt before rose in your stomach, along with blush on your cheeks as you froze. You tried lifting your right hand to rub at your eyes and maybe help you wake up, just to find Taehyung was holding it in his own. Not helping.

"T-Taehyung," You cleared your throat through the tightness of it, shifting slightly as you tried pulling your hand from his. Taehyung's fingers tightened in refusal to let you go, but his nose brushed against your cheek and a humming sound told you he's on his way to waking up. "You're, um... Squishing me."

"You squish," Taehyung mumbled against your cheek, giggling shortly before you felt one of his long legs dropping on top of yours, caging you farther as it felt his entire body strapped you down to where you were.

You weren't even certain of what you should say to that. His thumb started drawing patterns on the back of your hand, and all this coziness together just might make you fall asleep again, if it wasn't for how loudly your heart was beating in your ears.

"Taehyung, please wake up," You tried again with a sigh. This situation turned as confusing as it is pleasant, and you much rather not stay on the roof when those heavy clouds decide to pour down.

"Why?"

"Because you're sleeping on top of me." You threw the first reason that came to your head, honestly.

Taehyung's head rose, confused eyes opening to look at you. You watched the blank look on his face, and you realized with the first time you looked at him from this close proximity, that Taehyung was just stunning. His hair looked unbelievably soft – even the green parts of it, hanging over warm orbs that blinked but never moved from your face, lips pink and unhealthily inviting as they were a bit open as he stared at you. His entire face was a shade of pink you've never seen before, probably from being so close to another human being in a mountain of blankets. Maybe you imagined it, but your heart still missed a beat for the mere second you thought he was drawing closer to you.

"We fell asleep on the roof," Taehyung said in a much deeper voice then what you were used to as you felt his leg slipping from you. You nodded, not trusting your voice at all. He lifted himself higher, sneaking one of his elbows beneath him and the hand that he had thrown over you moved from your hip to your stomach. The feeling felt too accurate to be over all those blankets, and a quick glance down proved you right, his arm was beneath the blankets.

"It was fun."

You nodded again, eyes softening when you watched Taehyung stretched. He was curled around you the entire night, his body must have been pretty stiff. "We should do it again."

Now that you had only lighter limbs of his body on top of you, you pulled yourself into a sitting position besides him. "We will," You smiled at him, patting his head as he blinked tiredly at you. "Let's get down from here though, it looks like it's about to rain."

#v #bts #bangtan bookclub #bts scenarios #yarn

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