#kids drew it on paper and played with pebbles.

[000marie198]

I just learned today that bara tehni game doesn't have any boards in markets

[jae-bummer]

Romantic Walks on the Beach

Request: Hey, I'm Shy to ask this💀🫠, but could you write a story about y/n and Chan going to the beach late in the middle of the night And please make it cute and funny🌚

Pairing: Stray Kids Chan x Reader

Genre: Fluff

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*Tap*

*Tap*

*Taptap*

Slowly opening your eyes, you hazily blinked up at the ceiling. You furrowed your brow, focusing on where the noise that had woken you up was coming from.

*Tap*

Narrowing your eyes in the direction of the window, you tried to remember if there was a tree in the backyard of this vacation home or not. Maybe it was windy, and the branches were just hitting against the window.

*Taptap*

You groaned and finally rolled over. Gingerly touching your phone, you read the numbers displayed on the too bright screen. 12:37 AM.

"I'm going to cut the branch down," you hissed to yourself. "And then I'm going to make the tree watch as I start a bonfire with it."

Dragging yourself to the window, you ripped back the curtains, ready to verbally assault shrubbery. Instead of the spindly, old tree you had assumed was harassing you, you found a mid-sized human instead.

"Chris?" you muttered, squinting to see him better.

Sure enough, there was a Bang Chan standing in the back yard, a handful of what appeared to be pebbles in his palm.

You immediately felt the irritation melt from your body as you stared at him. Unlocking the window, you started to slide it up, just as he began to rear his shoulder back. Before he recognized you in the window, he let the rock fly. Slumping to the floor, you squeaked in surprise as the pebble flew through the window and bounced off of the nightstand. Popping back up again, you looked at Chan with a gaping mouth.

"Sorry!" he whisper-yelled. His shoulders drew up to his ears in embarrassment as he cringed.

You waved him off before calling back. "Chris, what are you doing?"

"I couldn't sleep!"

You lifted your brows, waiting for him to continue.

"I thought maybe you'd go on a walk with me?"

You heaved a sigh before nodding quickly and shutting the window. You could likely get a better explanation if you just met him outside.

Looking around the unfamiliar room, you tried to remember where you had put your hoodie. Somehow you had managed to snag the top-most room of the rental (all by yourself) when playing a game of rock, paper, scissors with the rest of the kids. When you had agreed to this weekend vacation, you assumed you'd be bunking with one of the boys, so it was a pleasant surprise.

Finally finding what you were looking for, you hustled as quietly as you could down the stairs. Your efforts were likely fruitless though, with the amount of sleep these guys needed, there was little chance of waking them up.

Pulling on your sneakers, you eased out of the back door and onto the patio. Chan gave you a small, awkward wave from where he was still standing under your window. You approached him, and crossed your arms, waiting.

"Uh...hi," he grinned.

"Let me in on a secret, Chris," you said. "Why were you throwing rocks at my window? When we're staying at the same place?"

Chan chuckled. Shaking his head, he pressed his palms to his eyes. "Call it sleep deprivation?"

"I would at least like to hear the logic behind it," you smiled. You loved it when Chan was flustered. You loved it even more when you were the reason for it.

"I couldn't sleep," he sighed, dropping his hands.

"As mentioned."

His nostrils flared as he shot you a momentarily glare. "I thought, wouldn't it be nice to look at the stars, so I came down here. Then I heard the waves crashing on the beach and my feet started to pull me that way, but I didn't want to go by myself."

"And the first person you thought to coerce for a long, romantic walk on the beach...?"

"Definitely wasn't Han," Chan smirked. "I didn't want to be a creep and let myself into your room while you were sleeping. And my motivation may or may not have been influenced by the number of stairs to get there."

You rolled your eyes before finally nodding. "Fiiiine Christopher Bang. Romance me!"

Chan broke into a full smile before flexing his hand in a "gimme" motion. You slid your fingers between his and immediately felt a wash of goosebumps cascade over your skin. The two of you had grown really close over your short time of knowing each other. You were stuck in the in between place of friends and dating, but you were both okay with that for now. Not everything had to be defined. You were still so new and enjoying the moments of learning each other."

Tugging you along, Chan glanced over his shoulder at the house growing smaller in the distance. "You think they'll be okay unsupervised?"

"What's the worst that could happen?" you huffed. "They're all asleep."

"Y/N," Chan laughed, shaking his head. "I don't think you understand the innate ability my members have to be casually destructive, no matter their state of consciousness."

"Hey, this whole adventure was your idea," you hummed, swinging your interlaced hands between you. "I've been awoken. There's no backing out now."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he said, lifting up your hand to place a soft kiss to your knuckles.

Walking in companionable silence, it wasn't long before your feet hit sand. You took a deep breath in and sighed happily.

"Now look at that," Chan smiled. "Not even grumpy about being woken up anymore, are you?"

"I wouldn't go that far," you muttered, popping your shoes and socks off. Setting your feet in the sand caused you to shiver, the night much cooler than you had anticipated.

Watching you, Chan immediately noticed your sudden chill. Sidling up behind you, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist before beginning to waddle you forward.

"Chan!" you gasped before dissolving into laughter. "What are you doing?"

"Walking toward the water," he said simply, his breath hot on your neck.

"No, I mean-"

"And also keeping you warm," he chirped. "Unlike some people we know, I am capable of multitasking."

Gripping tightly to his forearms as you continued walking, you couldn't help but giggle at the sight of the two of you. You stumbled forward, getting closer to the water as Chan's strides were wide, careful not to disrupt yours.

Only a few yards away from the incoming tide, he finally tugged you to a stop and set his chin on your shoulder. Letting out his own contented sigh, you could feel him tilt his head to look at the sky.

"Hey, Y/N," he whispered.

"Hm?"

"Have you ever thought about how small we are?"

"...I'm trying really hard not to make a joke," you managed.

You didn't have to be facing Chan to know his expression was one lacking amusement. "Height discrimination aside."

"It's hardly discrimination to point out that-"

"I am tall enough!" he gasped. "Now quit making this about me and my extraordinary tallness."

"Right, right," you laughed. "Being small, but definitely not in a height way. I'm with you."

"I mean like, in the universe," he continued. "Like when you look up at the stars, don't you feel so..."

"Insignificant?" you chirped. Spinning around in Chan's arms, you searched his face. His lips were slightly parted, and eyebrows furrowed as his eyes locked on yours. "Like a bit of dust on this giant space rock?"

"That," he laughed. "Even with making somewhat of a name for myself. Coming out here and looking up into the sky really grounds me."

"You're the most grounded person I know," you hummed, poking lightly at his chest. "And you've made more than "somewhat" of a name for yourself."

"I'm not fishing for compliments, Y/N," he smiled.

"You shouldn't have to fish," you sighed. "Not when you deserve every single one of them."

"Just spitting facts then?" he chuckled, shaking his head. He leaned forward and placed his forehead against your shoulder. "Maybe I should tell you a fact then."

You leaned backward, forcing him to stand up straight. Your eyes grew wide in anticipation. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he nodded, biting his lip. "Not to alarm you, but there is a concerningly large crab right behind you."

You narrowed your eyes, trying to process what you thought would be a compliment. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Monster crab," he said shortly. "Directly behind your right leg."

Closing your eyes, you let out a slow exhale. "Please tell me you're joking."

"We can either run or-"

"What's he going to do!" you gasped. "Pinch me to death?"

"Hey, I'm just thinking of your safety here," he laughed, keeping his focus trained behind you. "His beaty little eyes...that's just not right."

"Don't insult him!" you cried, remaining still. "How did we decide it was a "him" anyway?"

"You're right," Chan said, nodding in what you assumed to be the crab's direction. "I'm sorry for assuming your gender. I should have asked."

"Chris," you groaned. "I'm just going to quickly-"

At that moment, you felt a small pull on your sweatpants. You glanced down, and to your horror, the crab had pinched the fabric.

With little fanfare, you took off running, hauling Chan with you. It didn't take much to shake yourself from the crab's clutches, but it didn't stop your sprint. Making your way back to the road, you finally paused at the entry to the beach and collapsed into Chan's arms. He swung you around, giggling until you both finally plopped into the sand, tangled in each other.

Both of you let out shaky laughter between strained breaths, all the while maintaining tentative eye contact.

"That," you huffed. "That was ridiculous."

"I can see the news now," Chan nodded. "Two beachgoers assaulted by mutant crustacean."

"Mutant?!" you hiccupped.

"How else could it have possibly gotten that big!" Chan argued. "I thought he was going to start speaking to us in Korean at any moment. I saw ninja turtles; I know how it works!"

"I'd hardly count ninja turtles as a reputable source," you sighed, sitting up. Chan did the same and grimaced.

"I guess I kind of ripped you off about the fact, didn't I?"

You thought to your conversation pre-ocean spider attack. "I mean, you weren't lying."

"I wanted to say something nice about you though," he grumbled.

"I know this may come to you as a shock, but you are still perfectly capable of doing that now."

Glancing at you quickly, his pout broke into a smile. "You're right."

"I'm aware."

Shaking his head, Chan reached to tuck a piece of your frazzled hair behind your ear. "My smart and beautiful, Y/N. It is a fact that you have completely stolen my heart."

You groaned before smacking him in the chest. "So corny!"

"No, no, wait!" he laughed, gripping the wrist of the hand that had just hit him. He pressed it flat over his heart. "Really! When I was talking about how I felt so...insignificant in the grand scheme of things. You have this way of making me feel less alone.

I've felt so lonely for so much of my life, your companionship has been a shock to my system. Of course I have my boys, but it's different when you have romantic feelings for someone. There's this hole that's been filled that I didn't even realize existed."

"Don't let any of them know you said that," you whispered. Your chest felt so full with his words. Chan's whole existence was the equivalent of a warm hug.

"I'm pretty sure they already know," he smiled easily. "Thank you for letting me show you this side of myself."

"No thanks needed, silly," you whispered. Leaning forward, you pressed a light kiss to his mouth. Pulling back, you felt a zing to your stomach as you watched him lick his lips. "I'm glad you feel safe with me."

"I do," he nodded. Quirking a brow, he smirked. "At least whenever we're not being attacked by ocean life."

[orphicrose]

Arcane Character Headcannons

If you were close friends with them

𝙸𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚜 : 𝙼𝚢𝚕𝚘, 𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛, 𝙿𝚘𝚠𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚅𝚒, 𝚅𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛

I wrote this with the idea that the reader was one of the kids that vander took in. So they would all be more like family than friends ^^

꧁--------------------------------------------------꧂

Mʏʟᴏ

It would take him a while to warm up to you, but once he’s comfortable that’s it. There’s no getting rid of him.

He’s the kinda guy that would playfully tap the back of your head when walking past. Just because he can.

Never gives back stuff you lend him, unless you pry him to.

Will play with your hair if you sit close to him

Out of everyone, He’s the friend you will have deep and weird conversations with. Whether it’s about how broken society is or debating if giants exist.

He has a really short attention span, and will usually end up purposely annoying you to entertain himself.

You are sitting on the floor drawing the lanes in a little book. Trying to cure your boredom, till you feel a little pebble hit your head. Ignoring it and carrying on, two more hit you. Looking up you see mylo sat with a big grin on his face opposite you. Seems like you weren’t the only one bored.

“Mylo stop throwing rocks at me…” you roll your eyes, giving your attention back to your drawing.

“Sorry sorry”

Just a few seconds pass before a whole handful of tiny pebbles are chucked towards you.

“MYLO!”

His laughter slowly fades into the distance as he runs away, avoiding being told off.

He’s not so great with advice, so In times when you need support he will let you talk and comfort you with food and hugs.

Brutally honest with you.

Throws something at you in the mornings to wake you up.

If you do it to him, he will put you in a headlock. Playfully obviously, but nonetheless he will put you in a headlock.

This usually ends with you all play fighting or having a pillow fight before being told of by Vander.

Cʟᴀɢɢᴇʀ

Literally an older brother to you, and is always there for emotional support.

“Have you eaten and drunk water today, y/n?”

If you say no, you better expect him to come back with an entire bag of things you like.

When you all hang out, he is the voice of reason. Always reminding you guys to be careful when vander isn’t around.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea guys…”

“It’ll be fine!” Mylo shouts down to clagger as he climbs the tall building, just a few feet below you.

Without any warning your hand slipped on a lose brick, causing you to lose balance. As you fell, you knocked mylo down with you.

Thinking your leg was bound to be broken in a matter of a few seconds, you felt yourself land on something soft.

“Your lucky you weren’t that high up” Clagger shook his head as he looked down, cradling you in his arms. Putting you down you noticed a salty mylo, lying like a ragdoll in a crowd of bin bags.

“Thanks for the help clagger..” he huffed.

“Your the bad influence, you don’t get help.”

Will offer you give you a piggy back ride if your tired. He won’t take no for an answer.

GIVES THE BEST HUGS!!!

Physical affection is his love language.

Everyone else’s safety comes before his own.

You won’t get better advice from anyone else. He’s like the group therapist.

He waits for everyone else to go to sleep before he does.

Will carry you to bed if you fall asleep anywhere else.

He sometimes forces all of you to go stargazing with him in the middle of the night. And always ends up carrying either you, mylo or powder back when you fall asleep.

Pᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ

She loves you like an older sibling.

When vi and Vander aren’t around, your the one she sticks with and listens to.

You spend a lot of time together drawing

Sometimes she will bring you drawings she done of the two of you, and you’ll treasure them.

A very smiley powder rushes over to where your sitting on the couch and plops herself on your lap. Pushing a piece of paper into your hand.

“Look what I drew!” She beamed, pointing to one of the figures on the paper.

“That’s you, and that’s me!”

“I love it, thank you pow-pow.” You praise her, and give her a quick hug before she rushes off to draw another.

Much like mylo, she will play with your hair if your close to her. Brushing and braiding it if it’s long enough to.

She will ask you to braid hers too, if vi isn’t in the mood or isnt around.

If you haven’t eaten, she will steal a donut or cookie from the kitchen and sneak it to you.

Loves your singing, and asks you to sing her to sleep most nights. Or tell her a story.

She will sometimes convince you and vi to cook or bake with her.

Vɪ

She is a fiercely loyal friend, but not a very compassionate one usually.

She teaches you a lot, like how to fight and handle yourself.

“No no, your postures all wrong” She says, as she uses her foot to push yours forward. Adjusting the way your standing.

She then stands in front of you and holds out her hands.

“Like this, now punch me as hard as you can”

The one to stick up for you when mylo is teasing you.

“I’m always here for you, okay?”

Her advice depends on her mood. It can either be very helpful or shockingly shit.

If she really needs to talk, your the one she will go to. She loves your hugs and can trust you.

She tends to steal your oversized jumpers and will refuse to give them back.

“Vi it’s mine…”

“But it’s sooo comfy” she says, bundling into a ball and burying her head in her knees.”

She would beat someone up for you in a heartbeat.

If someone done so much as shove you, you better expect their body to be on the floor in the next few moments.

She the person who would probably explain puberty to you. Vander would be too awkward, and she saw it as a sisterly duty to educate you.

Vᴀɴᴅᴇʀ

He’s sees you as his child. He’s your dad and that’s that. When you call him Vander it hurts him.

“It’s dad to you!”

Weekly lectures about staying safe.

Will make you all teas in the morning, and sometimes breakfast if he wakes up early enough.

Ever since you where young he used humour to try cheer you up. Like pulling silly faces or telling bad jokes.

Taught you how to cook and look after yourself.

Sometimes he is the one to start the pillow fights.

If your in a bad mood, he will take you for a peaceful walk and let you talk. If you don’t want to talk about what’s on your mind, he will distract you instead.

Even as a teenager / young adult, he still sees you as a child.

Your in the kitchen with clagger, as you both offered to cook dinner that night. Turning on the stove and placing the metal pan onto the open flame, your hand was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Catching it slightly on the fire.

“Shit!” You clench your teeth, swiping your hand back and holding it close to your body. Admiring the burn.

“Language!” Vander shouts from the other side of the room.

“But I-“

“Shh, let me see your hand..”

Clagger watches it all unfold with a concerned look on his face, carrying on preparing the food.

He never asks what you want for your birthday or Christmas, he already knows.

Probably knows you the best out of everyone

A very good listener

Leaves you in charge of the last drop when he goes out.

[thrillridesz]

heart racing ▫ j.yn

in part of the adrenaline rush! collab hosted by @lucas-wongs​ + @ickjun​

⇢ pairing: jaehyun x reader (f) (ft. other nct members + twice’s jeongyeon)

⇢ genre: fluff, angst, racer!au, best friends to lovers

⇢ warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating, mentions and consumption of alcohol, alcoholism, hitting rock bottom

⇢ synopsis: once a revered member of the racing industry, jaehyun has been living at rock bottom for the past few months following a tragic accident that effectively put him out of racing. it seems as though nothing would get through to him, not even you. will he ever break out of the constant loop of doubt and start seeing things for what they really are?

⇢ word count: 8.04k

⇢ fic playlist: get you to the moon - KinaBeats ft. Snøw | Amnesia - 5SOS | You Belong With Me - Taylor Swift | Confetti Falling - Big Time Rush | Go Season - Devin Bronson (highly recommended for the racing scene) | Love Story - Taylor Swift 

⇢ a/n : unedited! also posted on this account because I’m considering merging my nct account with my tbz writing blog also PLEASE check out the other writers’ works ^^ we’ve all worked hard on our fics

“Jaehyun, you’re ruining yourself.”

The dim room reeked of stale alcohol and something mouldy as the empty beer bottles that littered the floor clanged noisily against the surrounding furniture, leaking golden yellow liquid all over. Old, worn clothes were draped everywhere, stained and darkened with murky stains while the battered television flickered weakly to live, showing nothing but static. The walls were streaked and striated with scratches, as if someone had just been clawing desperately at them and on the floor amidst the empty glass bottles, were pieces of scrap poster paper. Sunlight peeks in through the drawn blinds, giving a teasing glimpse to the bustling outside world from the sad, decrepit apartment Jaehyun lived in.

Sprawled on the couch with nothing on except a wrinkled pair of jeans, Jaehyun’s eyes were devoid of emotion - blank and dazelike. In his hand, his fingers held on limply to the neck of yet another bottle of beer, possibly his nth for the day. His usually shiny hazel brown hair was greasy with filth and his bare chest was sticky with sweat from being cooped up all day in this tiny, stuffy apartment of his. His jawline was starting to grow a hint of stubble given how much he’d completely let himself go and dark circles were appearing underneath those intense eyes of his.

Slowly, Jaehyun lifted his gaze from the floor to look at you, the first flicker of emotions that he’d ever displayed in the whole day. You stood before him, arms akimbo, your gaze sharp and piercing. He smiled, a smile that held no mirth or happiness.

“Oh, you’re still here.”

You shook your head, ripping the bottle of beer from his grasp. As you approached, the bottles, clothes and torn pieces of paper on the ground almost made you trip and you tutted under your breath.

“Of course I am. I’m your best friend who is somehow still here with you. Best friends help each other.”

He chuckled nonchalantly, waving his hand at the door. “Well, feel free to leave then. I don’t need your help.” His eyes held a hint of anger as he did, something that did not escape your notice.

“Jaehyun,” you said softly, placing the bottle on a nearby table as you dread what was to come next. “Please, not this again.”

Your words only served to fuel the fiery spark of anger in his eyes as he said in a barely controlled tone, the irritation radiating from him in ripples that threatened to evolve into waves, “Why not? I’m a fucking wreck and a loser anyways. Leave like everyone else did. Leave like…” His voice wobbled, “leave like Jeongyeon did.”

Your heart fell and it took almost a godlike willpower not to let your emotions show. Was he still thinking about her?

“Jaehyun-”

“What? Are you gonna say I’m not a loser like you always do? Cut the fucking lies. Everyone out there is saying the same thing, what makes you think you can convince me that you’re not thinking it either? Hm?” He spat, the drowsiness in his demeanour dissipating fast as red hot anger replaced it. There was so much internal frustration within Jaehyun that just seeing him like this was enough to break your heart. It was one thing to see him in this terrible state but it was quite another to see him directing his anger towards you.

You drew in a deep breath, trying to calm your pounding heart and to stop the tears that pricked at the corner of your eyes. Having been there with him every step of the year ever since the both of you were children playing and horsing around the neighbourhood, you found yourself desperately missing those much simpler times and wondering how things became so wrong.

For as long as you could remember, Jaehyun had always been interested and had a natural flair for racing. There always existed a competitive streak in him that thrived off a challenge. It didn’t matter what it was, as long as it was a game that could have a clear winner or incited competitiveness, he was all up for it. As kids, the two of you used to compete over everything, be it for the last popsicle in the convenience store down the street or past the gates of your school. It was as if racing was something he needed in order to live. It wasn’t until sophomore year of high school did Jaehyun decide to take his love for racing to a professional level. He began to dive deep into the motorsport industry, starting out as a mere rookie in auto racing. He never did apply to college, preferring instead to invest all his time into his newfound life career.

His rise to fame was quick, quicker than most. Within his first year, he had won a number of races, beating even some of the well known names in the sport. Every other month, he was winning trophies and exorbitant cash prizes which in return earned him the recognition of famous sponsors and racers. Bumper stickers from the various sponsors decorated the back of his ride and it was no time at all before Jaehyun began to don some of the most expensive sports gear on the tracks. With his smouldering good looks, he also appeared on the front pages of magazines and newspapers, all while attracting a loyal fanbase made up of both racing enthusiasts and adoring admirers.

To everyone else, he was the suave, handsome and effortlessly cool young racer who was practically born to race and to do it well but to you, he was your childhood friend… and your first love. In front of the flashing lights and cameras, Jaehyun knew his way around the crowd. He knew exactly when to flash one of his dazzling, dimpled smiles and how to work the crowd - it was just one of his innate charms. Yet, you knew that underneath that, that flashy, extravagant Jaehyun, was the Jaehyun you grew up with and had gradually fallen in love with.

As children, he was there for you whenever you needed him, always ready to lend a helping hand when he noticed that you were stuck in an unfavourable situation. You distinctly remember what had happened in second grade. It was a bright and warm summer’s day, the lovely scent of sweet peas floating in the air as the sun bore down on the earth. Pigeons flitted over the sidewalks, pecking at the cemented floor and the leaves of the oak trees that lined the streets rustled gently in the wind.

You fell with a loud and heavy thud on your bottom, feeling the leaves crunch noisily under your weight. Fear and trepidation coursed through your veins as you stared with eyes wide at your tormentors.

“Look at her, she looks pathetic. Do it, Johnny! Do it!”

A tall, hunkering boy flanked by his cronies stood over you, his dark, massive shadow engulfing you as you frantically scrambled backwards. Tears were beginning to stream down your face and a sharp pain shot up your spine with each move, owing to the impact of the fall. There were scratches on your hands as you dragged your palms over the rough gravel in an attempt to move away.

There was a malicious glint in Johnny’s eyes and his lips were curved into a devious smirk as he stared down at you, domineering and intimidating. The veins in his arms and hands were bulging angrily and as he clenched his fists, you felt your stomach sink. Your legs began to feel like jelly and your vision was beginning to blur from all the salty tears. You were struck with fear and the sense of helplessness you felt made you feel both ashamed and furious at yourself yet there was nothing you could do.

You held your hand up to shield yourself from the impending attack as the bully lifted up his fist.

“Hey! How about you pick on someone your own size?!”

The group of you turned to see Jaehyun, eyes blazing with anger as his chest heaved. His wind-swept hair hung over his eyes, a surefire sign that he’d run over and his cheeks were red from exertion. Even from afar, he was clearly no match to Johnny’s larger build, much less the whole lot of them.

“J-Jaehyun?” You spluttered, shocked.

“Who is this clown- Ow!” Johnny stumbled backwards as a rock pebble hit him on the head, promptly ricocheting off his forehead and bouncing onto the ground. His jaw was clenched in pain and when he removed his palm, a reddish bruise had blossomed and there was even a faint trace of blood. There was a split second of stunned silence before Johnny turned almost magenta with rage.

“GET HIM!” He roared and his cronies shook out of their daze, immediately going after Jaehyun who’d already ran a good distance before the reality of what had just happened set in. His mocking laugh rang through the afternoon amidst a cackle of profanities and threats yelled at him.

It was a laugh that remained in your memories all these years. It was a laugh that strengthened you, a laugh that spoke so much of willful courage and youthful rebellion which was everything you’d eventually come to associate with Jaehyun. That laugh was bright and so… him.

Yet now, you could see none of that playful mischief and vibrancy in those eyes. All that is left is emptiness.

“You’re not a loser, Jaehyun,” you began softly, “you never were in my eyes. You were a fighter.”

Those beautiful eyes you adored so much narrowed at you, his face twisted into a scowl.

“A fighter? Guess what, y/n?” He sneered, his voice dripping with venom. “I fought. I fought endlessly but did that work out for me? I threw in everything I could, every little thing. I worked hard and put in a hundred and one percent of my effort.”

You stared at him, your heart aching for him as a single tear began to roll down his cheek, tears of anger, indignation and pain.

“But did that work out? No, it didn’t. If anything, it left me a wreck. People out there call me a loser, a has-been and even my girlfriend has left me. It doesn’t matter how much effort I put in, how much I fought because at the end of the day, everyone is only here because of what they think I am. They saw me as a champion, an up and coming and the moment I wasn’t anymore, they all dropped me in a heartbeat. What are you waiting for, y/n? Why the hell are you even still here?”

His words echoed through the empty apartment and out loud, it sounded bleak, harsh and biting. His anguished voice tore at your heart and as each word left those lips, it felt like your heart was slowly breaking apart. Neither of you said anything for a moment, locked in a silent, unspoken fight as he held your gaze steadily. His eyes were cold and there was the look of a broken man in them.

“I am here because I love you, Jaehyun,” you said finally, your voice quivering. “I don’t care who or what you are and it pains me to see you tear yourself down like this because I know you are not the loser you believe you are. I don’t know how much of this I can take, seeing you ruin yourself.”

You can see the slight softening in his eyes and you gritted your teeth.

“I’m going to go. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I can’t see you ruin yourself and be able to do nothing about it. I’m not strong enough for that.”

With that, you left the apartment before he could see the tears in your eyes.

The miserable, empty can of beer clattered loudly against the hardwood floor, the sound echoing through the dank apartment.

Jaehyun barely lifted an eyebrow, his fingers growing slack without him even knowing. He stared up at the dark ceiling, a hooded look in those once bright eyes. The stench that hung around him was growing more intense by the day and it was reaching a point whereby he could almost smell himself but there was nothing in him that seemed to care.

Sounds of active civilisation outside drifted in through the windows and occasionally, he’d hear the honking of angry drivers on the roads or the laughter of children playing at the playground at the courtyard below. Normally, he loved waking up to these sounds or at least when he wasn’t off to the race tracks, when he was relaxing with a book in his hands. Now however, he found them irksome, irritating and he wanted nothing more but to block them out. He wanted absolutely zero reminder of the world outside.

Grunting, Jaehyun dragged himself off the couch. As he trudged heavily back to his room where his comfortable bed beckoned to him, he turned to stare at the large, imposing front door where moments ago, you’d slammed shut as you left him to his own devices.

Guilt tugged at his heart and for a split second, Jaehyun contemplated running after you. When you left, there was an indescribable sense of hollowness that engulfed him in a way that he couldn’t quite understand or explain. The apartment was filthy, dark and small but somehow with you around just a few minutes ago, it felt just a little bigger, a little warmer. As much as he hated to admit it, his heart was calling to him to reach out to you, run after you. The crumpled look on your face haunted him but he shook the thought from his mind.

It would be better if you left him. If you knew what was good for you, you would.

The anger in him was beginning to resurface at the thought of everything that had happened over the past few months. His career plummeting on a downward spiral right after his recovery, the exact opposite of what was predicted by his agent.

He was born to race, his family and his friends had always told him so. He knew it himself, he could feel it in his blood, his bones, his spirit. Ever since he was little, Jaehyun had known that his career would have something to do one way or another with racing. As a child, he loved running, competing but most of all, he loved riding in his father’s pickup truck on the way to school. He loved the way the vehicle would zoom past the streets, overtaking other vehicles and he loved the feeling of the wind against his face. He loved the speed and everything about cars or racing. It felt natural for him to pursue a career in competitive racing and a natural he was.

After getting signed with a racing company, Jaehyun quickly rose to fame with his numerous championships, bagging trophies, medals and cash prizes in almost every event he participated in. Sports magazines and reporters would clamour over each other to score an interview with him. People wanted pictures with him, wanted him to sign an autograph for them.

He was the golden boy in the racing world, an untouchable.

In the racing world, everything goes a mile a minute and nothing waits for anyone. After the morbid crash at the June Tokyo Prix, Jaehyun had sustained several fractures to his ribs and a severe concussion that left him in the hospital’s intensive care unit bedridden for several months. The pain was unlike any other and every single move hurt immensely but what suffered more damage than he did was his career and his relationships.

Within months, the racing career he had so painstakingly built up for himself collapsed before him. Due to long inactivity, brands and sponsors began to drop him, slowly at first then steadily one by one. He was also constantly under the media’s scrutiny for a period of time, their cameras and microphones thrusted in his face while he lay helpless on the hospital bed. The bright flashes blinded him and the loud noises made his head pound and even now, he still remembered how that experience was like, shuddering every time it crossed his mind. It had taken Jaehyun countless hours of physical therapy before he could even think of racing competitively again.

Yet when he did, he quickly realised he never could revert back to his old self, the one who got off on adrenaline kicks while zooming along the tracks at breakneck speed, the one who only knew what it was like to win. He was slower, less coordinated. His body could no longer take the pressure racing would subject it too, or at least not quickly enough for him to make a full, stunning comeback.

The tabloids and news had run wild with his fall from grace, writing up horrible, demeaning articles about him. His rivals had mocked him to his face and he could even sense the visible disappointment from his fans emanating from the stands whenever he’d lost yet another race. The thing that really broke the camel’s back however, was when his girlfriend Jeongyeon initiated a breakup.

Jaehyun had hoped that things would turn for the better, never one to give up. He’d trained tirelessly everyday, pushing his brittle body to the limit. He never let up on himself, gritting his teeth through all the physical and mental pressure he had imposed on himself. When the final text was sent, Jaehyun could remember distinctly how hopeless and distraught he’d felt. It felt like his world, the empire he had so painfully and relentlessly crafted for himself from scratch was breaking bit by bit. To add salt to the wound, the next time he’d seen her on television, her body was plastered against his biggest rival, Yuta. Her arms were wrapped around his and her lips pressing against his cheeks with no shame whatsoever for the interviewer interviewing him, no sign of the girl who’d once told him that she loved him with all her heart.

What was once determination and naive hopefulness soon devolved into anger and resentment. Jaehyun began to let himself go and the change was drastic. Where there once existed a time whereby he’d rise from his slumber early to visit the gym, he now regularly slept well into the late afternoon. His diet began to consist largely of takeout, junk food and alcohol and his apartment got more and more cluttered by the day. He’d stopped contacting his friends and family, ignoring their calls and texts, preferring to fester in his own solitude. It wasn’t long before an odour had started to emit from his place, a nauseating mixture of stale pizza, beer and pure filth from the lack of showers.

His appearance was also no longer polished, but rather haggard as if he’d aged five years in a matter of months. He was beginning to lose his fit stature, the healthy glow he’d once been prized on by magazines and gossip columns dimming. It got to a point whereby Jaehyun had begun to avoid looking at his hideous reflection in the mirror, his self-hatred growing with each day.

A poster of him in his racing gear and his race car was tattered and wrinkled on the floor, stained with ketchup and soda. Staring at it blankly with eyes empty of any emotions whatsoever, Jaehyun swiped it up and in a swift moment, he tore it up with a large rip before trashing it somewhere on the floor.

Flopping onto his comforter, he almost moaned in pleasure as he sunk into the soft sheets. Reaching for the air conditioning control, a loud smack on the ground roused him from his hedonistic haze. His hair was sticking up in all directions as he peered over the edge of his bed to see a picture frame that had fallen from his night stand.

Holding it in his hands, he looked at it with a nonchalant air.

It was a picture of the both of you a few years ago, back when he was just kick starting his racing career. He hadn’t yet made a name for himself then as the two of you leaned in for the picture.

You had on a bright, illuminating beam on your face, your eyes alive and glittering with happiness. Your hair was down, wisps of it framing your face as the sun brought out the colour and shine of it. Next to him, you’d completely dwarfed in comparison. He had his arm around you, bringing you to his side and from the picture, Jaehyun could feel a smile begin to crack on his face at the comical height difference.

He’d looked completely at ease here, carefree with the recklessness and restlessness of the soul beneath shining through his dark eyes. His hair was wavy, styled down in that ridiculous fashion he wanted so badly to leave back in high school. He had worn a dimpled smile on his face, the look of someone who knew he was destined for greatness and believed in it.

Jaehyun was about to put the picture down when something caught his eye. He leaned in closer.

There was something about you. At first glance, it would have been clear that you were smiling for the camera but upon closer look, it looked as if you might be smiling at him instead. Your smile was softer, eyes gentler from the first time he’d seen the picture. It was the sort of smile that struck him in his heart, the kind of smile that would make its recipient feel loved, appreciated.

“I want to be a racer when I grow up.”

You turned to Jaehyun, eyes wide as saucers as you popped the ice popsicle out of your mouth.

“Why?”

He shrugged, still struggling with the wrapper of the popsicle. The two of you sat on the wooden bench, side by side as the other kids ran around the park, playing rounds of tag while their parents or babysitters sat watching over them. The sun was glaring down on the earth and though it was a great day to go out to play and sweat it out, it was also a perfect day to find an excuse to buy popsicles with what little pocket money your parents had given to you two. It wasn’t an opportunity to be missed.

“I really like racing. I don’t know if there’s anything else I’d want to be,” he said simply, grinning as he finally succeeded in breaking open the plastic.

You tried to hide the blush that was beginning to creep up to your cheeks, looking away from him.

“My mom says being a doctor is good.”

As soon as you said it, you immediately regretted your words. Jaehyun scrunched up his nose in disgust.

“No way! It’s so boring. Do you want to be a doctor?”

Quickly, you shook your head fervently. “No!”

“Then what do you want to be?” He asks curiously, sucking on his popsicle.

You are quiet for a while as you ponder over his question. What exactly do you want to be when you grow up?

“...A writer.” You said finally and he swiveled around to look at you, clearly not expecting your answer.

“A writer? Hm, why?”

“I just really like reading. I want to write interesting stories that people will like,” you take a tentative lick of your popsicle, the icy, sweet taste of apple flavouring coating your tongue, “Like fairytales!”

Jaehyun broods over your answer, seemingly deep in thought. For a moment, neither of you say another word as you sit together under the warm, sunny day, enjoying your popsicles.

“I want people to like me too.” He says suddenly, his eyes shining. “People will like my racing! I’m going to be a racer and people will like me to win!”

He hops to his feet, his popsicle raised as he made his declaration. There is a triumphant, toothy smile on his face and he says it with so much hope and gusto that you can’t help but feel drawn to his driven spirit. For a boy of five foot, there was a lot of motivation and energy in him and there was just something about him that got you transfixed.

Under the sunlight, his smile seemed almost blindingly bright with the shadows highlighting the charming dimples on those round cheeks. The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy and your heart began to pound. Your words seemed stuck in your throat and you choked out, “I t-think you’ll make a good racer, J-Jaehyun.”

You thought your heart might burst as his smile grew wider, his dimples making deeper indentations. It felt like the sun might just be a little too hot since your face felt like it was positively flaming.

“Thank you, y/n.”

Suddenly, something caught your eye and shakily, you pointed at him.

His smile dropped as his eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“What?”

“Y-your popsicle is m-m-melting… down your a-arm.”

The elevator button made an uncharacteristic squeaking sound as Jaehyun jabbed repeatedly at it, his jaw clenched in impatience.

“Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up,” he muttered frantically under his breath, pacing the lift lobby. The red letters above the elevator were moving at a snail’s pace and it seemed as if it’s stopped to pick up some passengers on the 5th floor. How long does it take for people to move into an elevator?

Jaehyun groaned in annoyance as he watched the number on the display crawl up slowly.

This wouldn’t do. By the time it’s here, it would be too late.

Immediately, he sprinted for the stairs instead, his heart hammering against his chest.

There was great fanfare as the rowdy crowd erupted into raucous cheers, the large, industrial sized party poppers going off with a bang, covering everyone in glitter streamers and confetti. Cameras were flashing and clicking away at every corner while throngs of sports reporters flooded the holding area, all trying to reach the champions for their coveted exclusive interviews. Agents and pit crews were all celebrating with the sound of champagne bottles popping and yells and cheers of congratulations ringing through the air.

Jaehyun stood at the top of the podium, shooting the cameras his trademark stunning grin as he posed with his golden trophy that looked to be about the size of his torso. The racing suit he was wearing was uncomfortably hot and he wanted nothing more than to strip from it but the adrenaline and euphoria he was experiencing far surpassed any feelings of discomfort.

This was it, the taste of success. It was everything he lived for, raced for. This was why he always trained so hard, from dawn to dusk. This was why he put his own body through all those hours of endurance training, gym and dieting. It was all for this single moment of true bliss enjoyed and savoured after the extreme thrill of racing. Here on the podium, towering above everyone else… He was truly where he needed to be, where he was born to be.

As he stepped off and the bodyguards swarmed in to escort him to his own holding room, Jaehyun couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. Yet another trophy for display on his shelf back in his apartment. He didn’t think he’d ever get sick of it, the feeling of winning but then again who would?

Reporters were attempting to accost him at all sides, all screaming out the same old questions he had grown tired of early on.

“How do you feel after winning the prix for the third year running?”

“You hit a record timing today! How did you train for the race?”

“What do you have to say to your rival, Nakamoto who came in second this year? By a mere few seconds at that!”

Jaehyun nodded and waved at a few of them, still wearing a smile on his face but there was no answer evoked from him. He’d kept up a calm and cool demeanour throughout but once he was in his holding room alone, the moment the door closed shut behind him, he let out a loud, jubilant howl.

“Fuck yes!” He roared out in happiness before collapsing onto the couch, laughing to himself as he held his trophy above him. He badly needed a shower but he couldn’t care less, not with the trophy in his hands. Under the light, the gold shone and even as a seasoned racer, the excitement and happiness from winning never grew old. In the empty room, the victory felt even more profound, the reality of claiming the championships for yet another year sinking in.

He was in the middle of celebrating and basking in his own victory, he received a text.

Jy: how’s my man doing? congratulations on the win honey ❤️

Jae: thanks babe, it feels fucking amazing. you have no idea… also i missed you so much

Jy: we should celebrate. together, alone. tonight at my place? ;) we haven’t done it in awhile, i miss your body, your kisses

Jaehyun stared at the text. He should be happy, excited to see Jeongyeon again after so long. He had been so preoccupied with training for the big race that he’d barely had any time for her. He had missed her yet now that they were finally exchanging texts again after so long apart, he didn’t seem to feel the same anticipation.

There was something about that text she sent that seemed weirdly… detached. He had imagined their first interaction in over a month to be one that warmed him up in the inside, brought him to a whole new level of euphoria even after winning but if anything, this reality paled in comparison to the scenario he had looked forward to in his mind.

Jae: yeah sure

After pressing send, he tossed his phone onto the coffee table and rested his head against the velvety cushion of the couch. Somehow, that very short exchange with Jeongyeon had dimmed his excitement and readiness to celebrate.

His phone suddenly rang, disrupting him from the reverie he’d found himself in.

“Must be Jeongyeon,” he thought to himself and for some reasons as he swiped to answer the call, he found himself reluctant to talk.

“Hello?”

“Jung Jaehyun! I was watching your race on television, congratulations for coming in first yet again! You were terrific out there.”

Y/n.

Jaehyun smiled, feeling his heart swell at your words.

“Thanks, y/n. I really appreciate it.”

“How about we meet for dinner tonight? I know of this amazing Italian place that serves the best lasagna, your favourite! My treat too to celebrate your win, how’s that?”

At the mention of lasagna, Jaehyun could feel his stomach rumbling and his mouth watering. The tangy tomato sauce, copious amounts of cheese and spiced minced beef with soft pasta… He would absolutely be down for some well-deserved lasagna after weeks of feasting on plain, watery salads. Dinner sounded like a great idea.

“Sure, I- Wait, I can’t,” he groaned, suddenly remembering his plans with Jeongyeon. Plans he didn’t even particularly look forward to.

“Why not?” You asked.

“I um…”

Fuck, why is it so hard to say it?

“I have plans with Jeongyeon tonight,” he said, ignoring the strange pang of guilt and indignation that hit him square in the chest.

“Oh! Oh, uh… That’s completely fine. Don’t worry about it, we can always have dinner some other day.”

“Really? That would be great! How does next week sound?”

“Sounds good to me!” Even on call, he could imagine you bobbing your head enthusiastically like you usually did and that brought a chuckle out of him.

“Alright, I’ll see you then y/n.”

“See you! Please rest well, you deserve it.”

“Thank you,” he replied before hanging up.

What is this warm feeling in him?

Jaehyun raced out of the apartment complex, his eyes searching his surroundings.

The sun was glaring and he couldn’t see straight without squinting his eyes. He must have been a weird sight to behold - scruffy, pale from the lack of the outdoors and reeking of the garbage piled up in his apartment. An elderly woman walking past him tutted disapprovingly at his disheveled appearance, holding her nose as she did but Jaehyun didn’t seem to notice her. His mind was on something else, something more important.

A boy from across the street was staring at him with his mouth agape, looking like a deer caught in headlights as he shakily fumbled in his pockets for his phone. Jaehyun let his sights linger on him, wondering if he should have at least thrown on a coat but as he turned, he caught sight of a figure hanging by the bus stop, looking miserable.

He swallowed thickly, feeling the slight clench of his heart and without hesitating a single second longer, he made his way over.

The heart monitor’s methodical beating was driving him near insanity. If not that, then certainly the suffocating atmosphere of the hospital and the bandages wrapped tightly around almost every single inch of his body would. Not to mention the occasional undercover paparazzi who would try to inch their way into his ward.

Jaehyun stared up at the white ceilings, still as a plank. Every part of his body hurt to move, he couldn’t even turn his head without feeling a painful pounding in it. Sometimes, he would get dizzy spells so intense he actually felt nauseous. His appetite for food or anything in general had since plummeted. Everything, but racing.

He yearned to go out there onto the tracks, to resume his training. The Roman Prix is coming up in a month’s time and he was so far from ready. He needed to get out of this place as soon as possible, even if it meant jeopardising his own safety. His career mattered more than anything.

Jeongyeon hadn’t called either since the day he got admitted. Jaehyun had soon grown tired of checking his messages or asking his publicist for news from her, the feeling of disappointment felt deep within him. He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling a wave of fatigue wash over him.

There was a gentle knock on the door and as the door creaked slightly open, you poked your head in. Upon seeing him, you smiled softly and made your way over to him. Jaehyun watched you approach, his eyes following you.

You had brought along a basket with you, seemingly full of items. As much as he wanted to know what you’d brought, he tried not to look overeager. “I made you something special today,” you said, settling down and practically vibrating with excitement.

“What?”

“Tomato minestrone soup!” You exclaimed, uncovering the lid as the tantalising aroma of tomatoes and a medley of vegetables drifted in the air. Jaehyun almost had to restrain himself from moving, lest he shift a bone out of place somewhere.

Somehow seeing you had sparked a certain kind of joy in him. Maybe it was a sign nobody had really forgotten about him yet. He had watched his number of visitors trickle down day by day and now that it was close to a month since he’d been hospitalised, after the tragic accident, he barely got any. Perhaps three or four a week if he was lucky.

You, however, you were different. You visited him almost every other day, no matter how busy you were. You visited his bedside even if you were worn out from a long day of work, even when you had things to attend to, even when no one else bothered to. You would bring along snacks whenever you did or homemade get-well food like fish porridge or chicken noodle soup you’d whipped up yourself, though they might be far from the usual gourmet fare he was used to back when he was still active when he would go for exquisite dinner parties. Usually, you stayed for a substantial amount of time and sometimes, you even stayed the night.

Jaehyun didn’t understand why you would do all of this for a friend, a friend who never seemed to have time to spare for you at that. More than anything, the feeling of guilt in him only grew stronger with each visit yet he was grateful, extremely grateful. Your presence was like a warm ray of sunshine in this dreary hospital ward. Whenever you visited, he couldn’t help but smile even though he could not find it in himself to smile. But when it came to you, it felt natural.

“Y/n!”

At the sound of Jaehyun’s voice, you turned and even from afar, he could see your reddened eyes - a surefire sign you’d been crying. Guilt and anger washed over him in waves and he tried not to think how many times he had been the cause of your tears. If only he could turn back time, he would have shook himself for ever dismissing you so lightly like he did, before he saw the situation for what it was.

He was blinded. Blinded by his obsession for winning, fame, glory and pleasing the wrong people. In a way, it felt like a fog had been lifted before him and now that he could see, think, feel clearly… He wasn’t going to let the right person out of his grasp. The person who loved him unconditionally, not just for his fame and achievements. The person who stuck with him through thick and thin but he was just too daft to notice it. The person who always felt like home whether he knew it or not.

You.

“Jaehyun? W-What are you…” You spluttered, desperately trying to wipe your tears from your face as you stared up at him.

It took a couple of seconds for him to regain his breath, his face turning red from embarrassment and exertion. He should really start leaving those beers and junk food alone.

“I…” He panted, both out of fatigue and relief, “We need to talk.”

“Jung is getting closer, any minute now Hendery!”

“I don’t believe this! Are we looking at a potential comeback for this prix? Push, push, push!”

“It seems like we might be! Here he comes! He is absolutely mad!”

The nascars zipped along the race tracks, smoke and some bits of burnt rubber and chipped metal trailing along its wake. They were a blur of colours to the spectators, who were practically glued to their seats as they watched the race reach its climax. A massive telescreen was displaying close ups and the ranking board with huge overhead lights that illuminated the stadium. The crowd was growing wilder by the second as the racecars zoomed past them, their attention fixed on one racer in particular.

The sleek nascar was streaked in royal blue and crimson red over a metallic black base, looking almost purple and black with how fast it was flying across the tracks. The wheels were spinning so fast that the friction between the tough rubber tire and the rough granite almost lit up the tracks. It was charging forward with a steely determination and ruthlessness, closing in rapidly on a green and white nascar ahead of it.

The adrenaline coursing Jaehyun’s veins was unlike any other. The thrill he got from racing could practically send him into an all time high and a cunning grin tugged at his lips as he stepped his foot down hard on the pedal, his hands gripping tightly onto his steering wheel. Rounding around a bend, he clenched his jaw as he pushed his body weight to the left, the muscles in his abdominals and biceps flexing and straining against his racing suit as the car drifted across the tracks in a perfect arc.

“Did you see that perfectly executed drift?! Insanity!”

“Jung is absolutely on fire!”

The thunderous cheers of the crowd and the loud hum of the race cars racing across the tracks faded into the background as he kept his eyes trained steadily forward. Any time now…

“Watch out, Nakamoto,” he whispered under his breath.

Steering his wheel sharply and accelerating much to the crowd’s excitement and trepidation, his race car was now driving side by side along Yuta’s. For a split second, the two turned to look at each other through the window and even though there was no way of seeing the other’s face through that helmet, something in Jaehyun told him that his rival was angered, shocked and… Fearful.

Jaehyun grinned beneath his helmet and without a second thought, he zipped forward, leaving Yuta behind in the smoke.

“He’s going for it, he’s going for it… Wait for it… And he crosses the line! The legend has reclaimed his spot on the top!”

“And that is how you execute one of the greatest comebacks of all time, ladies and gentlemen. Jung has done what we believed to be impossible and dominated the race! I wonder how Nakamoto feels about that?”

The other commentator chuckles into his microphone.

“Well Haechan, if I were him, I’d be pissed off for sure! But I’d also be worried… So very worried.”

The crowd was absolutely wild when he’d disembarked from the car and as he removed his helmet, he was greeted with camera flashes all around him. He shook his head, running a gloved hand over his hair and he took a deep breath. The air smelled of burnt rubber, smoke and… Success.

He had done it. He had made his comeback.

His pit crew made a beeline for him, slapping him on the back, their faces jubilant and lit with pure joy. His new manager, one that he trusted and helped him inch his way back to the top step by step, shot him a thumbs up which he nodded in acknowledgement as the crowd of sports journalists, reporters and photographers began to swarm in on him.

Yet, he paid them no attention. If this was three years ago, he would have basked in the glory, the attention but now he had greater concerns on his mind. His heart was pounding now for a different reason altogether and he could feel his hands growing clammy.

Jaehyun craned his neck and searched the rowdy media crowd. Where were you?

“Jaehyun!”

At your voice, he turned and immediately almost stumbled backwards as you crashed into him for a hug. The feelings of you against him sparked a joy in his heart, a joy almost greater than winning. He enveloped you in a hug, holding your waist as he nuzzled his face into your hair. Your scent of honey and jasmine was intoxicating, alluring and a welcomed change from the smell of smoke and rubble.

The two of you had been dating for about two years now, each day together better than the previous. After he’d caught up with you that day, it was as if you were seeing a different Jaehyun from the one you’d seen in his apartment. That Jaehyun who had caught up with you at the bus stop was the old Jaehyun you’d missed and it was as if a switch somewhere had been flipped. To this day, he had never admitted what changed while you were gone for those few minutes. He had subsequently apologised for everything he’d done, even things you didn’t see a problem with. It was shocking to say the least to see the unapologetic Jaehyun apologise for anything at all, but not more shocking than what entailed a few days later.

It started with a vase of luscious red roses being sent to your workplace followed by an invitation for dinner. Before you knew it, the boy you’d loved almost all your life was courting you with a passion. It felt like a complete dream, so much so you had been afraid to wake up suddenly and realise it was all just your imagination. He’d been more of a romantic than he’d let on and many times, you had found yourself completely smitten by his stunts that stretched from learning how to make homemade chocolates for you on Valentine’s Day knowing that you liked them, even though he was well known as a terrible cook to sending flowers up to your doorstep every other week.

Within a couple of months, the two of you were dating and deeply, wildly in love.

Amidst date nights filled with laughter and kisses, he had also been steadily climbing his way back up the ranks of the racing world. After ditching his unhealthy lifestyle he had been living for the past year, the change was apparent. He’d started hitting the gym, eating healthier and before long, he was in prime condition to start racing again. Training was long and tough but he never did give up. He was more determined and driven than you’d seen him and though the old Jaehyun would have been gutted at a loss, this new, better version of him never fussed over a loss of any kind, instead learning from his mistakes.

All of his efforts had led to this ultimate moment, the taste of victory on his lips.

You noticed he had been shifting uncomfortably and you looked up, puzzled and concerned.

“Jaehyun? You okay?”

He looked at you, his ears red, a sign that he was anxious, nervous.

“Jaehyun? What-”

Your words got stuck in your throat as he knelt down on one knee, the lights overhead bringing out the sparkle in his eyes and the shine in his hair. Those dark orbs were so full of hope, anxiety and love all intermingled in one and you found it difficult to believe that those eyes were looking at you directly, the emotions in them all for you.

Jaehyun withdrew a tiny, velvet box from his pocket and popped it open. In the box, was a tiny diamond ring, glittering and absolutely regal. The diamond itself was beautifully cut and interwoven into the metal band with microfibres of white gold and it simply shone as the camera flashes went off. The crowd was going bonkers, screaming and cheering with wolf whistles.

“Y/n,” he spoke softly, his voice gentle. “You have always been there for me, always been my better half. We have been friends for over a decade and lovers for merely two but it seemed as if we always were meant for each other. It took me so long to realise that and there is not a day I don’t regret not realising it sooner. You are my everything - my past, present and future. Falling in love with you was gradual, unconscious. I guess my heart knew you the one before I even did. It started with me being in a dark, dark place where I drowned in my own self-hatred and insecurities. I was beaten, defeated and I just gave up. Where everyone did the same, you never did. You were like a beam of shining light, shining upon me and guiding me even if I didn’t notice it at the time. But when I did, you glowed even more brightly than I’d envisioned. I’d been oblivious to your beauty both inside and outside for far too long and god knows how much I fucking regret it. I’m different now though, because of you. I am the best version of myself right now because I have you in my life. You taught me how to love, allow myself to be loved. There’s no universe whereby I’d want to be without you. I can’t see myself without you in my life. I need you, I love you.”

Tears were beginning to stream down your face and the stadium had grown quieter, all tuning into what was happening.

Jaehyun looked up at you, hopeful and so full of love that you thought your heart might burst.

“So I guess what I’m saying is, will you marry me, y/n?” He asked breathlessly.

[mrs-march-ahs]

Hi! I have a request~ The Evans reactions to losing in any sort of game. Can be board games or video games 😅

The Evans Losing At Games

Headcannons for all, imagines for some!

Cute idea, thank you! I didn’t write much for Jimmy, I’m sorry Jimmy I love you<3

Enjoy:)

Tate

-Clearly a teenage boy who lets emotions build up a lot -Definitely cheats if he’s had enough -If he keeps losing in the same part of the video game and rage quits, it takes him forever to get back into the game - “Ohhhh… I forgot that’s where I let off… fuck it” (quits) -Much better and calmer at playing cards, and generally prefers games were the two of you can talk and he doesn’t have to focus too much

--

You laid on your bed, scrolling aimlessly through social media, and occasionally glancing at Tate playing a video game he hasn’t played in a while. When you started talking about games, and you told him you had it, he nostalgically reminisced how much he used to play it when he was alive, so you set it up for him. Every few minutes, when a red screen would pop up, Tate would sigh, and with every passing death, his sighs got louder and angrier.

After only maybe half an hour of playing, Tate clearly couldn’t take it anymore, and threw the control towards the floor, before stomping over to shut the console and TV off. The sound made you flinch, and you had never seen Tate angry before. Nor his body language nor face showed his emotions, just his actions, and when he flopped by your side, he looked fine. If somebody had come in right now, they would just see two teenagers laying next to each other.

“Uhhh… you okay?”, you ask, before rolling over to face him. You poke at his chubby cheek as he stares up at the ceiling and tease him. “Sore loser”.

“Shut up, it’s your fault. You reminded me why I wasn’t allowed to play this game for very long”.

“Wanna play something else? Together? We could play Dragon Ball Z?”, you ask quietly, before going back to your childish sing-song teasing. “Be nice, and I’ll even let you win a few times!”

Tate looks over at you and huffs, before sitting up and getting the controllers, “Good thing you’re used to begging me for mercy”

Kit

-Least sore loser out of them all -Always up for a rematch -He’s pleasant even when he does win - “Want a rematch sugar? So you can have another shot at beating me?” - “Ah you were close, you’re getting good” - “You’re a good rival” - “If I lose, you can drag me to that Rom Com you wanted to see” - “If I win, we make more babies” -Pretends to be competitive when he’s playing with the kids - “I would say Team Girls vs Team Boys… but that’s not fair, the two of you don’t even stand a chance, right Tommy?” -If one of the kids beat him, he’d act super dramatically to give them as much satisfaction of winning -Laser tag is 34 years before Kit’s time, but if he played something like that, he’d try to let the kids win

--

You ran around the garden and chased a giggling Julia. Because of current financial issues, the power was out, but not wanting to worry the children to much, and not wanting them to ask too many questions, you and Kit decided to make the most of the sun and tire them out before it got dark. Kit, being the big kid he is, suggested playing a tag-like game Thomas invented, where you each get three pebbles each, and try to get each other out by throwing them. Gently. Unless you were throwing them at Kit.

Julia started slowing down when she reached the corner of the house, hoping to hide from you, but you were right behind her, making her turn around and burst out in giggles. When the 5-year-old laughed, the only thing you could see was the missing tooth she donated to the tooth fairy last night. Once you circled all around the house, you come back in view of the garden, and see Julia hiding behind Kit.

“That’s cheating!”, he exclaims, trying to run away from her and toss a pebble in her direction, only for her to do it faster. The second Julia’s tiny rock hits Kit’s tummy and bounced, he put his hands over his stomach and held it like a gun wound. He dropped to the floor dramatically, leaving the two little kids to die of laughter, and you walk over to him, Kit peeping open one eye slightly to see if you were watching him, and then stuck his tongue out to play dead. You picked up a stick from the floor and poked at his chest, making Kit chuckle but quickly hide it.

“Is it dead?”, you ask.

Thomas leans in closer to look at his dad on the floor, before Kit opens his eyes and pulls Tommy to the floor with him, rolling over to be on top of him.

“I win!”, Kit announces, before kissing his son on the cheek.

Franken Kyle

-He doesn’t particularly play complicated games, but he isn’t too patient and gets frustrated with himself pretty easily -If on one of his educational games, he messes something up too many times in a row, he’ll shut off the game and throw the tablet on the bed -He’ll avoid even looking at it -If he loses a tickle fight he’ll sit and whine, straddle you and then tickle you until you beg him to stop -Whines even if he loses at rock paper scissors -He likes colouring and drawing, and because it’s good for his motor skills, the two of you made a really simple game together -You drew out a long snake shape on a big piece of paper and drew lines in between for the spaces -Kyle carefully coloured them in with pencil and with a marker you wrote occasional things like ‘Go back two spaces’ or ‘Go forward three spaces’ -Sweet little Ky would roll the dice, and take his time, pushing his little figurine, which was something like a pencil sharpener or a bottle cap, and counted out the spaces -Got super excited if he won, but wouldn’t mind losing -He would insist the two of you keep playing, and you’re only allowed to stop and go to bed if you end on him winning -Sometimes he would try to let you win so that you could keep playing -Whine and pout if you had to stop playing, and how are you meant to say no to him? -You would have to promise you’ll play tomorrow -You’d be able to slowly make more and more complicated games, until eventually he’d be able to play things like checkers or Ludo

Jimmy

-Lowkey a sore loser -If there were loads of different people playing, he would be a lot more friendly -If he lost, he would still be super annoyed, but just wouldn’t show it -But if it was the two of you, he’d be super competitive -The type of person to flip the board game if he was losing -But he’d apologise straight away and pout if you didn’t want to play with him again - “C’mon let’s play again, I’ll be nice this time” - “Loser gets spanked” -Loves playing games like beer pong

James

-Unpleasant loser but also not a pleasant winner -Bitter compliments if you win at cards - “Well done darling, who would have thought with your high school education you were such a poker master” -Only willing to play the same 5 card games, because if you teach him a new board game he is not familiar with and he loses, he’ll claim it’s only because he’s new to the game -Absolutely infuriated if he loses at Monopoly, since he built a hotel after all -Don’t even bother trying to teach him how to play a video game -And of course - “Only amateurs keep score”

--

“What are you doing, dear?”, James said, fascinated at your little character wandering around a shop, on the screen in front of both of you.

“I’m trying to buy this plant, but I don’t have enough money, I want to see if I can sell anything I have”, you explain, pointing at your backpack filled with items that you can exchange for spare coins.

“Nonsense, darling, why don’t you simply stab the storekeeper and steal what you desire?”

“Because this is Animal Crossing, James, there isn’t a stab button”

Kai

-Kai likes playing video games or board games with literally anybody apart from you -He likes playing with Ozzy because he’s a kid so most of the time Kai can beat him easily -Definitely not the type of person to let the kid win, even if Ozzy is sobbing and Ally asks him to let Ozzy win once in a while - “Winning fairly will feel so much better for him” - “He won’t appreciate success if he doesn’t first taste failure” -Sometimes instead of story time with his troops he’ll play some board games -At first, everybody will keep letting Kai win out of fear -But eventually someone will win, and everybody else will be fearful for them, scared Kai will be angry - “Finally somebody capable, somebody strong, not scared to show their true capabilities” -But if you ask him to play a game with you, he probably won’t -If you eventually beg enough that he will agree to play a game with you, he’ll tell you he’s only playing one -If you win, he’ll be like, “Okay, are you happy now?” - “Finally it’s over” - “I let you win, are you happy?” -But if he wins, he’ll try to get you to play a few more games - “Are you giving up already?” - “Don’t be a sore loser, rise up to the challenge” - “I assumed you wanted to win, not just to play”

- (Kai loses) “See… you have to give a humiliated man a chance to redeem himself in his own ey-”

[honeypirate]

Cat and Mouse

Tiny bit edited but I’m so tired.

Kuroo x fem reader college AU. 

explanation of the home layout in my head- three story mansion type. You walk in the big double doors and see a double stair case. The main floor has a study room, giant living room, a kitchen in the back, and a big bathroom. The second floor up the stairs is a big open room with another stair case in the back right corner that leads up to a landing that has a door that leads to another bathroom and the Farther up is the third floor that is just bedrooms. This house is OSHA violation but don’t dwell on that. It has a big backyard with a pool and volleyball court. It’s the volleyball teams frat house.

College AU where Kuroo, Bokuto, Tsukishima,and Hinata all go to the same college. Kuroo isn’t on the volleyball team but is always at the games and house hanging out when he’s not studying for his heavy medical exams.

The songs I talk about were just the ones that were playing while I wrote. Music feeds my creativity.

Word count: 3k +

Warnings- swearing, drinking, drugs, immaturity

▼・ᴥ・▼▼・ᴥ・▼▼・ᴥ・▼▼・ᴥ・▼▼・ᴥ・▼

The moment you stepped into the frat house you regretted coming. The first party of the semester that you were invited to because you just got added to one of the frat guys group in a biology class, which honestly threw you off because the boy that asked you to come was super sweet with the cutest tangerine hair.

“A great way to make friends” you roommate said and then she promptly ditched you when she saw an old friend high school, she didn’t know that they went to the same college now and had to catch up, she told you to go get a drink to loosen up so you tried to make your way to where you hoped the kitchen would be in this god awful huge frat house. 

The walls were lined with volleyball posters and more volleyball paraphernalia. You knew your school had a huge team but you didn’t know any more than that, you guessed this was the volleyball boys frat house and your suspicions were confirmed when you saw a picture and the same tangerine boy from your class was in it along with his team. “Huh” you say to yourself, your voice drowned in the music. 

When you find the kitchen you take a shot, then one more, then a third for good measure before getting a can of soda from the fridge. You didn't care for nursing drinks, you liked to just get the alcohol in and then drink something you actually liked. 

You took a yellow solo cup and filled it with cocoa puffs you found in a cupboard and then left the kitchen, you didn’t know anyone so you thought you would walk around and see what this place had to offer besides drunk college kids and volleyball. 

You walk around the first floor, there was a pool in the back surrounded by people in bathing suits drunk and yelling, you laughed when a guy got hit in the face with a volleyball and as he looked up to get mad at whoever hit him, he caught your eye looking at him from the open sliding glass door. He was handsome, tall with messy black hair and a goofy smile. He had long arms and a white button up with rolled up sleeves tucked into distressed black jeans and black vans. He winks at you and you can’thelp but laugh and wave. You tip your cup back, pouring some of the cereal in your mouth before walking away from the door, not noticing how he started to make his way over to you.

When he gets to the door he looks around for you, trying to find where the angel went, he caught sight of your back on the other end of the room heading up the stairs and he takes off through the crowd with a smile on his lips. 

You walk up the left side of the double staircase, making your way past drunk people and couples making out, to the top where you find a large room filled with more people and several games of beer pong happening. You catch the eye of tangerine dream and raise your cereal glass to him with a smile before tipping more cereal into your mouth and walking around the crowd to the next staircase, your skin buzzing as the alcohol gets to your system.

“Kuroo!” Hinata says as he makes it to the top of the stairs “Hey Kid! Great party” Kuroo says, his eyes scanning the room for you again, catching your hair as you walked up the next set of steps. His eyes finally focused on the small guy, he was saying something but Kuroo wasn’t hearing him, his mind was on you and the way you smiled at him. “I’m sorry Hinata. Do you know where this girl went? She was wearing a jean jacket and black shirt and had a soda and a cup?” Hinata thinks back to you and grins “H/C hair? And super gorgeous?” Kuroo nods “yes her” Hinata laughs “she went upstairs, you just missed her” 

You walk around the top floor, it was all bedrooms and a few of them had socks on the door so you avoided those. You walked into one of the rooms that had an open door and flipped on the light. There was a king sized bed that was made and you were shocked that it actually smelled nice. You spot a lit candle and smile, tobacco smoke was the scent and you really liked it. 

You walk around the room, looking at the posters of music and led lights around the edge of the ceiling. You looked at the standing mirror in the corner which was basically just a picture collage. You recognized a few of the volleyball team in the pictures and deduced that this room belonged to the player with the silver hair and golden eyes.

One whole wall was a chalkboard and you squealed when you saw a big bucket of chalk. You set down your soda on the dresser and picked up a piece of blue chalk and started doodling around his notes as you ate some more cereal. You drew hearts and several other shapes before drawing an owl in the middle of the wall and then wrote a note that said ‘great room, love the candle’ 

You leave the light on when you leave the room, making your way down the hall and checking out the other rooms, you set a record to play in the last one and listen to a song by an artist named Shelly as you admired dinosaurs on the bookshelves lining the top, swaying to the beat as you snooped through the messy contents on top of a dresser, hair care products, notebooks, and books lined the back and coins and pens were were in front. You grabbed a pen and a notebook and ripped out a page, folding and ripping off a perfect square before using the extra paper to write a note. You turned the small square of paper into an origami T-Rex, the only origami you knew, and set it next to his plastic figure of a triceratops. You write a note and place it next to the Dino, it said ‘rawr means...’ with a heart and a bad doodle of little foot from the dinosaur movies of your childhood

Kuroo made his way down the hall, avoiding all the socked ones but stopping in Bokuto’s room when he saw the light was on. He notices your soda still on the dresser, the cool condensation no doubt going to leave a mark on the wood. He looks through your doodles and chuckles at the owl. When he noticed your handwriting, that stood out among Bokuto’s horrid chicken scratch, he smiled again. ‘Who are you?” he writes by your note before making his way out and into different bedrooms. 

You finish your snooping and head back to Bokuto’s room for your soda you forgot, passing a room that had some shouting and laughter but thinking nothing of it. You grab your soda but notice the response by your note, made by someone other than the person who lived in this room “who am i huh?” you pick up a red piece of chalk and write ‘just a girl’ before leaving the room and heading back down stairs. 

Kuroo didn't mean to go into the bedroom with two people doing the deed in it, he didn't notice the sock that fell to the floor, but he couldn't help but laugh at the way the poor guy who was stripping, hestill had on his socks, one black and one a white tube sock that was up to his shin. “Sorry man” he says with a chuckle after he gets yelled at and quickly exits the room. He makes his way to the end of the hall and in the last room the light was still on smelling like a floral perfume, he was so close! He noticed that the record was still playing and smiled at how cute this was. Noticing your little Dino you left and another layer of tension finds it’s way to his heart. When he leaves the room he catches your back as you walk down stairs again. “Fuck” he says and takes off down the longer than normal hallway. 

You walk around the room with the beer pong and smiled at HInata when she saw him again “hey do you want a hit?” a voice calls out and you finally notice the couch facing the windows in the room, completely hidden from the rest of the room. It was like it was it’s own little high universe in the middle of chaos. A few people were sitting around with brownies and bongs. You laugh “i might as well” you say and sit down in the middle of the group, sinking into the couch and disappearing from the room. 

“What strain?” you ask as you hold your soda and cup between your thighs and grab the bong and a lighter from the nice girl beside you “uh i think it’s stoney pebbles” you nod “that’s a good one” you take a deep hit and lt out the smoke slowly in smoke rings. You giggle a few times before taking one more hit and passing it. “Hey i’ll trade you a brownie for that cereal” a guy says from the floor in front of you “deal dude” you say and pass him your cup before he hands you a homemade pot brownie that was wrapped in plastic.

God where was she! He thought as he looked around “hey did you find her? She just came down” Hinata asked and he shook his head “I’m always one step behind” he says as he looks around, admiring the smoke rings he saw come up from around the couch. Him and Hinata make their way around the big second floor room, looking at everyone closely to find you. 

You talk a little to the group, exchanging numbers to match up whenever with the girl who you learned was named Sofia. You stand from the couch and stumble, giggling when floor boy, named Tony, caught you by your hips and steadied you. “Thanks man. See you guys around” you say with a wave as you take your soda and make your way back down the steps, taking a bite of the brownie as you went along. 

“Dude!” Hinata says and points across the room to the stairs again “Fuck!” Kuroo exclaims, catching the attention of Tony. “dude that girl just gave me a cup of cocoa puffs. She's an angel!”  Kuroo laughs your cup had cereal in it of all things, he guessed you were the one doing the smoke rings as well. He took off through the crowd again, trying to get to you. 

You make your way to the bottom of the steps, brownie half eaten and you wrap it up, sticking it into your jacket pocket for later as you finish your soda and head back to the kitchen for another. You feel the weed mix with your alcohol as your body gets more relaxed. You grab another cup, filling it with some chocolate chips you found in a cupboard labeled “Hinata”, making you remember that it was the tangerine cutie boy from your class. You put pretzels on top of the chocolate chips and grab a bottle of water this time to try and get ahead of your dehydration you would feel in the morning. 

You ignore your roommate full on sucking face with her friend from highschool on the couch in the study room and make your way to the living room where someone was playing halfway decent music while the furniture was pushed to the walls. You find the phone that was connected to the aux and picked it up, chuckling when the phone unlocked on the first try, 1111. You searched for a song on spotify, one that was stuck in your head since yesterday, Pain by King Princess, and set it to play next. The phone vibrates in your hand a text pops up in a banner, from ‘mom’ it said  ‘Dinner tomorrow night, you’re still bringing the rolls right?’ smiling you flick it up and away as you go to your spotify profile and click follow before adding your signature playlist to whomever’s account this was.  You place your cup and water on top of the table next to the phone and feel the music hit your soul as your song starts playing. 

“There you are” he says to himself as he watches you mess with his phone on the table by the speakers, smiling when he saw you smile and holding his breath when he saw you flick away a notification.  When you set his phone down he snapped back into action, making his way through the room over to you. You were now swaying around with the loud music, your arms swinging softly and your feet moving as you danced, you looked elegant and sweet dancing around with a smile on your lips. 

You chuckled when someone grabbed your hand, spinning you around in a few circles before his hands landed on your rib area on your back, the heat sinking through your jacket and shirt, making you wish his palms were on bare skin. When your eyes focused you smiled “guy who got hit with volleyball” you say and he laughs “angel with the sweet smile” he quips back and tucks your hair behind your ear. “Kuroo” he says and you feel your heart skip “y/n” you say back and he grins “beautiful name for a beautiful woman” you laugh “does that line even work?” The song had changed to a slow song and your hands made their way to his shoulders as you swayed together in the dimly lit room. 

“It has once or twice honestly” he admits and you shake your head “i’m not an easy girl to get Kuroo” you say and now it was his turn to laugh “oh I know that. I’ve been trying to find you all night” you cock your head “you have?” he nods “I liked the record choice in that last bedroom. And the drawings in Bokuto’s room” you laugh “you should have just yelled for me” he laughs “I could have. But you have led me down a pretty amazing adventure” you blush “i'm glad you think so, but why were you trying to find me?”he leans in close to your ear “to tell you how captivating you are and ask for your number” 

you feel your cheeks get warmer at his proximity “that’s so cheesy i'm tempted to say no” he laughs “i’m just being honest beautiful” you roll your eyes “yeah sure. And next you’ll say that you dont talk to anyone else like this and i’m a special case” he mocks feeling hurt, a hand clutching his chest, “oooh it burns” he says sarcastically and you laugh “it only burns because it’s true” 

he shakes his head “it’s not though” he smirks and you run your hands down his shoulders and chest, feeling his toned body beneath his shirt “oh yeah pretty boy? Then what is the truth?” he’s moved his hands to your hips and is now leading you as you dance from another faster paced song “the truth is this, I may have the looks, the ego, but I dont sleep around. I go after people I want to truly get to know. And you, sweetheart, are someone I would eally enjoy getting to know” you chuckle, your ears feeling warm as you look away with a smirk “okay Kuroo, i will trust you, but if we get to know each other and i find out you are really just a smooth talking asshole I have no issues calling your mom to talk” he laughs and holds you closer to him “my mama would love you” you roll your eyes, ignoring the way that made your heart pump quicker. 

“So why do you want to get to know me so bad?” you ask as the music changed again, to a slower song again. He looks down into your eyes with a smile for a moment, until you can't help but smile back at him “that's why. Your smile. It’s beautiful and your eyes are kind.”

your breath hitches and you lean up, kissing his cheek “that was sweet i don't even care if it’s just a play” he raises his arms in the air, his fingertips almost hitting the ceiling fan “i’m not playing!” he says and you chuckle, pulling yourself close to him as you side step to a ‘put your records on’ over. 

“Okay, okay. You’re not a player. I’ll trust you Kuroo. Does this house have a pet in it? I saw a leash by the door in the kitchen” he laughs and nods “Sasha, she's a golden retriever, she's probably in the garage” you bounce a little on your toes “lets go” you say and grab your water and cup of snacks, holding them in one hand like you used to with drinks when you were a server, the only skill you retained from those years at the Olive Garden, well i guess you also learned how to steal mints but that didn't matter in real life. 

You hold out your free hand towards him “don’t lose me again” you say when he laces your fingers together and he chuckles “yes ma'am” he replies and you blush, shaking your head. 

The garage had a jeep inside and several different sports boards on the wall, skateboards, snowboards, skis, you name it, it is in here. You hear jingling and a tail hitting a cage when you flip on the lights and you laugh as you open the cage. You shove your cups into Kuroo’s hands before the 75 pound dog jumps on you, pushing you to the ground to lick your face. you enjoyed the way Kuroo laughed when you hugged the doggy and kissed its face as you laid on the concrete. He sat down on the step and pet Sasha’s side as you held you. 

You end up sitting side by side on the step, your back covered in dog hair and dirt but you don't care, as you keep ‘magically’ passing the dog’s toy between you both, causing her to get confused and tilt her head to the side as she watched it yet again disappear before reappearing in Kuroo’s hand behind his back. It was unreal to the dog, once you threw the toy she took a moment to really stare at it before running after it. 

“Hey Kuroo” he hums “yeah?” you lace your fingers again and he pops a few of the chocolate chips in his mouth as you speak “you meant it when you said you want to get to know me? You’re not just smooth talking your way into my pants?” he squeezes your hand and turns so he can look at you in the eye “I meant it. I don’t want to smooth talk my way into your pants. I want to get to know you and take you out on an amazing date when you feel like a queen-” you lean in and press your lips to his for a second before pulling away with warm cheeks “what if i want to smooth talk my way into your pants huh?” he throws his head back with a small laugh “is that what you’re trying to do to me y/n?” he asks and you laugh with him “no. No. I want to get to know you too. You’re handsome and sweet” he blushes “thank you y/n” he whispers as he leans farther down to kiss your lips again, softly at first but more heated as you go, his tongue swirls slowly around with yours, the taste of salty chocolate filling your mouth from his tongue. his hands in your hair and on your cheek, your hands find their way into his hair as you moan into his mouth. He buys your bottom lip as he pulls away, your lip slapping against your teeth when he lets go. “oh pretty girl I want to make you mine” you chuckle and roll your eyes “I’m gonna make you work for it Kuroo” you whisper and he kisses your lips softly again, pulling back just a fraction to say “i’ll work as hard as i need. Believe it” you nod “good boy” you whisper and you see something flash in his eyes before you stand with a cheeky grin “wanna go draw penises on Bokuto’s chalkboard?” he stands up next to you and grins like a fool “a woman after my own heart” he brushes away a fake tear and you chuckle, taking his hand after he finishes cleaning up the dog toys and putting Sasha back in her crate. 

You laugh as you compare your different penis drawings on the chalkboard wall, everything erased except for your note and owl. You laugh as you point to his extremely small one he drew “is that a self portrait?” you joked and he gasped “no way!” he exclaims and you just smile knowingly, man gives off major BDE. you draw a picture of a sunflower garden as he writes by your note ‘just the prettiest girl i've ever seen’ 

[petite-ely]

Afraid // JJ Maybank

three - family heirloom

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem routledge! reader

Warnings: cursing and other sorts of bad language, mention of a dead body, underage drinking, idk if there’s something else besides some typos

Description: a fun trip to a thrashy motel leads to many discoveries for the pogues (buckle up buckaroos this one’s a bit long) (also I’m very sorry for not putting a read more thingy but I really don’t know how, sorry :(

Previously next

Afraid Masterlist

Song recommendation:

gif found on pinterest all credits to owner

When John B fell into the the water, the anchor held against his chest, y/n didn’t expect him to come back with anything valuable. Maybe something that would have revealed the identity of whoever owned this boat, but nothing really big. So she was very surprised when he came back with a motel key in his hand. It was not much, as expected but the pogues knew what to do.

The little group had tried to report their findings to the authorities, in hope of receiving some kind of reward. Unfortunately, the plan had failed. Because of the hurricane, the coasts guards were so busy they couldn’t even spare one minute for them.

Instead, they all agreed to go investigate the hotel room. Y/n had been reluctant at first, but her curiosity took the lead, so she agreed. How could she not?

“I thought the château looked bad.”

“This place is a shitshow.”

“Motel or meth lab?”

Y/n’s face scrunched up in a grossed out expression at the sight in front of her eyes, plugging her nose as she caught the horrible smell that went with it. The motel itself wasn’t that bad. Except maybe for the roof, and the window and probably also some kind of hygiene issue. The yard was the worst part. It was filled with debris brought by the storm and it was covered with a bunch of old mattresses. It was not a pretty sight to see.

“Y/n are you staying with me and Pope or..” kie wondered as they landed.

The Routledges exchanged a look. John B didn’t show it a lot, but he was very protective of his sister. He preferred to have her by his side at all times, where he could protect her and assure that she was always safe. It was his way of showing he cared.

“Nah,” she jumped off the boat, her feet joined together, “someone has to look after these two knuckleheads.”

JJ laughed at her words. “Knuckleheads, who even says that.” “Dude I was talking about you.”

“What.” She rolled her eyes.

“Hey,” Pope addressed the girl “don’t let him do anything stupid.” He pointed to JJ.

“Oh, we will.”

“I can’t make any promises.”

Kie handed the key to John B. “Be careful, okay. I mean it.” Y/n grinned at her friend’s words.

The trio then headed towards the direction of the room. Somehow y/n ended up taking the lead, with the two boys walking behind her. She felt a pair of eyes looking at her.

“JJ I know you’re looking at my ass, stop that right now,” she warned. “Dude!” John B slapped him on the chest.

“Um for your information I was looking at the bruise on your thigh.” “Yeah right.”

(He was actually really looking at the bruise. He hated to know she was hurt in any kind of way, it pained him)

“And even if I was, whatcha gonna do about it? Beat me up?” “Don’t underestimate me Maybank, I could easily take you down.” JJ scoffed. “Pfft as if.”

He left her side to go join John B, who had voluntarily distanced himself from their bickering. The blonde grasped his friend’s shoulder. “Just be so careful, John,” he said, imitating Kiara.

John B pushed him off. “God, you’re so weird.” “Dude, what the heck was that all about.” “I don’t know, I guess she wants us to be careful.”

Y/n now walked alone behind, kicking a small pebble whilst silently listening to the conversation.

“Since she heard you’re being threatened with exile, she’s just been like ‘oh! Be so careful John B’” “Get off” “just give me that John D already.”

“Like, when are you gonna swoop on that, man?”

y/n cringed at his words. “Ew, don’t sexualize her like that, it’s gross, j”

“Bro, you know the rule. No pogue on pogue macking.”

Stupid rule. It was the only reason why y/n had never admitted her feelings to JJ. That and her fear of being humiliated ( and the fact he would never feel the same way).

“Besides you’re the one always hitting on her.” Y/n scoffed.

“That doesn’t mean anything, JJ hits on every girl he ever sees.” JJ frowned at her words. “He would hit on a plant if it even slightly ressembled the body of a girl.”

“Hey, that’s not true,” he defended himself. “I don’t hit on you all the time.”

“Says the guys who was just looking at my ass five minutes ago.” “No, I wasn’t.” “You so were!”

“Hey guys, I hate to break up your little fight but uh,” he pointed the door in front of him “this is us. 29.”

JJ knocked on the door. “Housekeeping,” he said, his voice pitched way higher than normal, making both his friends laugh at his actions.

“Should we try it?” Questioned John B. “No power- no security camera. No one’s gonna know.”

The door opened with a small creaking noise. It was a small dark room with two beds. The trio looked around for clues. They still didn’t know who owned the boat nor what they were doing out in the middle of a hurricane. They were hoping for some answers.

“Check the bag, see if there’s a name on there.” “Gotta a jacket-“ “Denim slides-“ “No name on the jacket. It’s a nice jacket though.” “Definitely over 50 he’s got new balances.”

“Yo, dude come here.” JJ found some papers and books stacked on the night table between the two beds. He pointed to a map. “Maybe this is where they were fishing.” “ let me see.” “Right there.”

Y/n peeked over their shoulder, standing on the tip of her toes, to try to see what they were talking about. “Nah, that’s off the continental shelf. Big swell, no one fishes there.”

Abandoning her previous idea, she crouched down and flashed her light under the first bed. “Nothing over here.” She turned to the other bed. Her eyes caught a strange shape, on the opposite corner. “Wait.” She slipped underneath and crawled to the object. “Ah ha!”

“What? You found anything?”

Disappointment filled the girl’s mind as she noticed it was only a shirt, grey and smelly. “Uh, not really. I thought I did but it’s only a dirty shirt.”

“Ew there was a spider on it.” She brushed the bug away as she got up. She turned towards John B, noticing he had successfully opened the safe. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

The words left her mouth without her noticing. She was just too astonished. The safe was filled with multiple stacks of money and well, a gun. There was so much of it, it’s like she didn’t know where to look.

“Uh, JJ, you’re gonna wanna see this.”

JJ’s eyes doubled in size as he noticed the firearm in the safe. He immediately picked it up. “You grabbed the gun,” John B sighed.

“This is a SIG Sauer.” He was swinging it in the air, playing with it as though it was just a toy. “JJ put the fucking gun down, you’re gonna hurt someone,” y/n hissed at him.

“Put the gun back, JJ.” “This is a fucking spendy gatt, man, just.” He pretended to shoot someone in the distance. “Bam! Bam!”

“JJ, this is not a toy you can just play with, put it back!” Y/n’a voice was louder now, angrier and harsher too. “Just take a pic of me.”

“You want me to take a picture of you?” ��Yeah dude, like-” JJ struck a pose, the gun in one hand, his flashlight in the other. “Make our own incriminating evidence is that what your talking about?”

Y/n’s attention drifted away as she heard the sound of something hitting the window. She spun around and drew the blinds open, only to find Kie and Pope jumping up down. “What?”

There were clearly trying to warn her about something but she couldn’t hear what they were saying through the thick glass that separated them. She lifted the window slightly. A single word left their mouth in a loud whisper. “Cops!”

“Fuck.”

“What is it?” Y/n turned her body to the two boys. She opened her mouth, about to reveal what danger would soon fall upon them when a knock came from the door.

“Kildare county, sheriff department,” a stern voice announced.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

The girl yanked the rest of the window open. By chance, there was a small step, a ledge, where they could stand and hide from the police officers.

Y/n’a hand flew to her neck, as she noticed the necklace she always wore wasn’t on her neck anymore. “Fuck!” It was very precious to her, leaving it there was not an option.

Her father had actually given it to her on her 14th birthday. It belonged to his mother and her mother before her. It was a family heirloom and the only thing she had left of her father. She always wore it, even to bed.

“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing?”

She scanned the room quickly, her stress level growing as she heard the door rattling. Her eyes finally landed on the shining necklace, tangled under the first bed.

“My necklace fell off!” she whispered-shout. “There’s no time!”

Luckily for her living on the cut had taught her to move quickly, without being seen. She swiftly slid under the bed, grabbed the golden chain and slipped out of the window, all before the door opened.

“That was close,” JJ whispered softly.

Y/n removed one of her hand from the wall to place her index finger against her lip motioning for JJ to stay silent. They both turned their attention back to the room, observing the cops as they entered.

There was two of them. Shoupe and a woman y/n didn’t know the name of. They were looking around for clues just as the three kids had done minutes earlier. Shoupe opened the door of the safe. Y/n’s eyes followed as he handed the other officer some evidences. He then handed her a stack of money, which she put in her pocket.

“The fuck?” the girl whispered, glancing at her brother on the other side. JB looked at her with wide eyes, he was just as shocked as she was.

She lost her balance for a quick second, her foot sliding down, making the loudest noise ever made. JJ’s hand caught her before she fell, bringing her body closer to his. She heard footsteps getting closer. She could feel and hear JJ’s breath getting heavier by the second, her heart pounding in her chest. She scooted even closer to him, her hand gripping at the back of his shirt so she wouldn’t fall once more.

“All right, let’s go. No one’s here.” Shoupe said from inside.

A heavy sigh left her lips as she heard the door close behind them. “That was so fucking close.”

“Jesus Christ, y/n what was that all about, you almost got us caught!” John B snapped.

“My necklace fell off, I couldn’t just leave it there. It’s the only thing I have left of dad! Plus they would’ve known I was there, it would’ve got us caught!”

John’s face fell slightly, she was right. Still he couldn’t help but worry at the thought of her getting caught. He was her brother, it was normal for him to want to protect her form getting hurt. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t mean to yell at you, I was just, I was just worried okay? I don’t want to lose you too, y/n/n.”

“I’m not going anywhere, bird.”

>>

After the little trip to the motel, and almost getting caught by the cops, the group had decided to head back to the château. Y/n let out a sigh of exasperation. She was, once again, seated on the dirty sofa on the porch. This time her head was hanging upside down, her shoeless feet rested against the window. She was exhausted. This day had been filled with nothing but surprises, following one another without getting a chance to take a breath. And the day wasn’t over yet.

First there was their discovery of the boat in the marsh, then John risking his life for a motel key (okay maybe risking his life was a bit of a stretch but yeah, y/n still thought it was dangerous). And then they tried to report the boat but failed, so they went to the motel and we’re almost caught by Shoupe (and saw him stealing money) and stupid JJ who stole the goddamn gun.

And that wasn’t even the most shocking surprise of the day. The body of Scooter Grubbs was also found (and y/n really wish she could erase that image out of her memory) and shocker, he was the owner of the Grady-White. So the marsh was closed until the authorities would find the boat.

“Ugh,” y/n rubbed her tired eyes, feeling a headache coming as the blood rushed to her head.

“You’re gonna get brain damage if you stay like that for too long,” John B said motioning to his sister’s position. “Can’t be worse than it already is,” she shrugged, moving herself so her head now rested on Kiara’s lap.

Pope came rushing, the screen door slamming behind him. “So, um we didn’t see anything, we don’t know anything.” He was still slightly panting, and he seemed very stressed, anxious even. “We need to have complete and total amnesia.”

“Actually, Pope’s right. For once.” y/n scooted closer to Kie to make room for Pope to sit and turned her head back to JJ who was getting up from his seat. “See I agree with you sometimes,” he pointed his index finger on each of his friends. “Deny, deny, deny.”

“Guys we can’t keep that money.” “Not all of us have unlimited data plans, Kiara.”

Y/n frowned at JJ’s words. That was low of him. The Carreras might hav been a lot richer than the average pogue, but they weren’t kook rich either. Business was hard for everyone and The Wreck wasn’t spared of the occasional struggle that went with it.

“Well I hate to be a party pooper but she’s right. It’s not our money, it wouldn’t be right for us to keep it.” declared the Routledge girl. “Yup, we have to pass that money off to Lana Grubbs. Otherwise it’s bad karma.”

“It bad karma to be implicated in a felony too,” added Pope. “We gotta go dark.” “If that means we get to keep the money then I agree.”

John B gave a small pat on JJ’s shoulder. “I don’t agree.” “What, why?”

“Just think about it, this is Scooter Grubbs we’re talking about,” he started. “Same dude that’s buying individual cigarettes at the porthole. Shit, one time I saw him begging for change in the save-a-lot parking lot because he needed gas. We’re talking about a dirtbag marina rat who’s never had more than 40 bucks in his pockets and all of the sudden he’s got a Grady-White? Just saying..”

John B was right. It was indeed kind of shady. Square groupers? Smuggling? Contraband? Y/n had no idea what she was getting herself into. It was a strange situation and she had no idea what to do about it, so she followed her friends ideas. They all agreed to lay low and act normal, which could only mean one thing. There was going to be a kick ass kegger on the boneyard. And y/n couldn’t be more glad.

Taglist:

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[hopelikethemoon]

I Do (Javier x Reader) {MTMF} [smut]

Title: I Do  Rating: Explicit  Length: 4100 Warnings: So much fluff and also smut (missionary and vaguely tantric)  Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set May 22nd 1998.  Summary: Reader and Javier make a big decision. 

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Javier’s breath tickled the back of your neck as he sighed quietly, still somewhere in between being awake and asleep. He had his arm wrapped securely around your waist, his fingers playing idly against your skin. You looked down at it as you trailed your fingertips over the length of his arm. Your eyes lit upon the ring on his finger. 

He had worn it every day since you bought it for him for Christmas — save for the week it was getting engraved with Sofía’s birthday. Marriage had never really been a topic you wanted to discuss. Thankfully, Javier wasn’t chomping at the bit to get married, despite the fact that everyone brought it up. 

The entire principle of marriage had been ruined for you, as a child. How many times had your mother been married, just to get a steady fix? Who needed a piece of paper or a stupid ceremony to make a relationship real?

You still remembered the way Lance has hedged the topic. The panic you felt about being tied down — about giving up some part of yourself. With Javier you had everything you never knew you needed. 

You had the house, the kids, the dog. A picture perfect life that actually was perfect. 

“What if we got married?” You blurted out, the words escaping you before they had even fully registered with you. Or maybe they had. 

“Yeah?” Javier questioned, pressing his lips to the curve of your shoulder. “Alright.”

Your brows furrowed together at his entirely nonchalant answer. “Really?” You questioned, laughing as you rolled over, draping a leg over his as you rested against his chest. “Did you hear what I said?”

He shrugged, rubbing his hand down the length of your back. “I did.” Javier’s lips curved upwards at the corners. “I couldn’t tell if you were being serious.”

“The courthouse was really lovely,” You admitted, running your foot over the side of his leg as you searched his eyes. “I don’t know… I’ve been thinking about that couple that was taking photos in front of the courthouse yesterday.”

“I thought you hated marriage.”

“Nothing would change. I’m still me and you’re still you…” You bit down on your bottom lip. “I wouldn’t want anyone to know.”

Javier pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek and nodded slowly, “We could finally file joint taxes.” He chuckled, running his hand along your back. “I don’t need a marriage certificate to legitimize this, baby. If that’s what you’re thinking—”

“Neither do I.” You cupped his jaw, running your thumb over his bottom lip. “But what if we did it? Just you and me and whoever they have for a witness.”

A smile spread over his lips as he held your gaze, “Let’s do it.” 

You leaned down to press a kiss to his chest, nuzzling your nose against his skin before you lifted your eyes to meet his again. “I think after everything we’ve been through, we deserve it. Don’t we? Something that’s just ours. No one else involved.”

“Connie and Steve would lose their collective shit.” Javier snorted softly, sliding his hand down your spine. “You really wanna get married, baby?”

Marriage had never really been something that you wanted. It was fine for others, but not for you. And yet, if you were going to get married — it was going to be Javier. Of course it would be Javier. After six years with him, you knew without a doubt that he was it for you. 

You reached behind you to catch his left hand, bringing it around to your face. “I really do.” You pressed your lips to his knuckle just above the ring he wore, your thumb smoothing over the skin beneath it. “Let’s get married.”

Javier stared at you with an almost unreadable expression. For the most part you could usually tell what was going through his mind, but sometimes he caught you by surprise. He brushed his thumb over your lips, fingers featherlight as he trailed them over your cheekbone and jaw. “Hey baby?” 

“Yeah?” You questioned, shifting further up his chest until your nose brushed against his, your lips hovering just above his. 

“Will you marry me?” 

You bit down on your bottom lip, barely controlling your laughter as you nodded your head quickly. “Yes.” You played your fingers through his hair as you surged forward to kiss him. His mouth slanted over yours, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip before slipping into your both to meet yours. 

Javier carefully rolled both of you over, his knee pressed in between your thighs as he draped himself atop you. He kept one hand braced against the bed beside your shoulder, while his other hand skimmed down your side, before coming up to grasp at your breast. 

You curled your fingers around the back of his neck as you pulled back from the kiss, sinking against the mattress beneath him. “Isn’t there some bullshit about not seeing the bride before the wedding?” You teased, tugging sharply at his hair as Javier scraped his fingernail over your nipple, making need pool between your thighs. As if you weren’t already turned on. One look and he could have you aching for him. 

“I prefer the idea of thoroughly fucking the bride before the wedding.” Javier retorted, lowering his head to brush a line of kisses along your collarbone. He pulled back and met your eyes, “Never thought I’d be so at ease with the idea of getting hitched.” 

A grin spread over your lips as you combed your fingers through his hair as you looked up at him. “Me too.” You admitted, “I think it’s because it’s just for us. There’s no pressure, no expectations, no one to please but ourselves.” You leaned up and kissed his chin, “It’s just you and me.” 

“How many anniversaries are we gonna have now?” He teased, stealing a kiss as he slid his knee up further between your thighs. Javier’s free hand moved downwards to grab at your hip as you rolled your hips, dragging your cunt against his knee �� desperate for friction. You could feel his cock hardening against the top of your thigh, pre-come smearing against your skin. 

“I don’t even know what the date is,” You told him with a breathless laugh, turning your head to look at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “It’s May 22nd.”

“Sounds like a good day to get married,” Javier said lightly as he cupped your cheek, leaning back down to kiss you. His hand wandered from your face, moving downwards to grasp your breast again, his thumb circling the pebbled peak there.

He rocked forward, grinding his knee against you with just enough pressure that you moaned into his mouth. You ran your hand down his back, grabbing at his ass to pull him towards you. 

Javier pulled back, hooking his arms beneath your thighs as he repositioned himself between your legs, wrapping them around his hips. He leaned back over you, his cock heavy against your sensitive folds. 

You grabbed at the back of his head, kissing him needily as you moved against him, savoring the slow build of pleasure at your core, heat blossoming through your lower belly.

He reached down between you, guiding his cock to your center, letting just the head of him press against your entrance. His thumb grazed your clit, your body clenching around almost nothing, teasing just the tip of him. 

“Javi,” You breathed out, grabbing at either side of his face. “Don’t tease me.” You begged, nipping at his bottom lip before kissing him again. 

Your moan was swallowed up by his kiss as he rolled his hips and sank into you. Your body fluttered around him, the precursor of a release that wasn’t quite ready to wash through you. You curled your fingers around the back of his neck, fingers toying with the hair at the nape there. 

Javier braced himself with one hand on the bed beside you, his other hand cupping your cheek as he drew back from the kiss. His dark eyes met yours, holding your gaze as he started slowly thrusting into you. You leaned up, your lips grazing against his, his breath dancing over your lips as he exhaled and you drew in a shaky breath. 

“I love you,” You whispered, dragging your fingers through his hair with one hand, while your other skimmed down his side trailing your touch of his hip and back up again. You just wanted to touch him everywhere you could reach. 

His nose brushed against yours, his eyes still holding your gaze as he whispered in return, “I love you too, baby.” 

You curled your arm around him, trailing your hand down his spine as you kept your eyes locked on his. There was something so intimate about holding his gaze as he moved within you, so perfectly in-sync with each other that you both drew in a breath and exhaled together.

“You feel so good,” You murmured, lashes fluttering as you tilted your head and brushed your lips over his. Javier cupped your cheek tenderly as he kissed you in return. There was no haste in his movements as you both just savored kissing, touching, and moving together. 

This was the man you were going to marry. You didn’t need to get married to know that every part of your heart belonged with his, but you wanted something that was just for the two of you. A private moment, that belonged to only you and Javier. It seemed fitting, given all the shit you’d both gone through these past few months — having your lives printed on the front page of the newspaper for all the world to see. 

Maybe one day you’d tell the girls, maybe one day you’d tell Steve and Connie… but not any day soon. For now it was your secret. 

Javier dragged his teeth gently over your bottom lip, causing a soft moan to escape you. He caught your hand in his, pinning it back against the mattress beside your head. “Are you going to come for me, baby?” He questioned, kissing you again.

You rolled your hips beneath him, wrapping a leg around his hips, trying to keep him close to you. “I’m close you,” You whispered, trailing the fingers of your free hand along the column of his throat. “So close.” 

He grabbed at your hip, holding you tight as he started to pick up the pace of his thrusts. You arched your back, your inner walls starting to clench around his cock — the first flutters of your release. “Come on, baby. Let go for me.” 

Javier shifted the angle of his thrusts and something about the new angle was exactly what you needed. You cried out his name, your fingers clenching around his own as you came apart on his cock. His pace faltered and you knew he was right behind you. 

You surged up and caught his lips, kissing him to silence the sounds rising up in the back of your throat. He came seconds later, his cock throbbing within your cunt as he spilled inside you.

His grip loosened on your hand and you slid your fingers out of his grasp, wrapping both arms around his body as he sank against you, his weight pressing you into the mattress beneath you. You felt entirely enveloped in him — his softening cock still buried within you, an arm snaked beneath you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. 

Marrying him might just be the best decision you ever made. 

 ————

 “Baby, sleeves down or rolled up?” Javier questioned as he fiddled with the buttons at the cuff of his shirt. He had one sleeve rolled up to his elbow, while the other was buttoned at his wrist. You pursed your lips as your eyes raked over him. It wasn’t like either of you had packed with the expectation that you’d get married. That would’ve never crossed your mind. 

“Up.” You answered with an approving nod as he rolled the other sleeve up. He looked good. His white linen shirt rolled up at his elbows, three buttons undone, and tucked into a pair of dark denim pants. The only thing white that you owned was a light shirt you’d brought and a cover-up for your swimsuit. 

The dress you’d chosen from your suitcase was a flowy red maxi dress with white flowers. Somehow it seemed fitting to wear red on your wedding day. Wedding day. That was still an insane concept to consider. You had never considered what your wedding day would look like. 

Most little girls dreamed of getting married, but you had never been one of them. Even still it wasn’t so much about the wedding as it was having something that was just between the two of you. And the tax break — that would be nice next year. 

A clerk stepped out into the hallway where you and Javier were waiting to meet with the judge who was free to perform the ceremony. “He’s just finishing up with his lunch and he’ll be ready to see the two of you.” She offered, before vanishing back into her office. 

“Are we gonna do vows?” Javier questioned as he paced in front of you. “I haven’t even put any thought into vows.” He raked his fingers through his hair, “And I don’t want any of that bullshit that’s usually in vows. I don’t need you vowing to fucking obey me.” 

You bit down on your bottom lip to stifle a laugh, “Babe, are you nervous?” 

Javier pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, staring at you as he gave a stiff nod. “A bit.” 

“I couldn’t tell,” You remarked dryly, gesturing to the floor. “You’ve only worn a hole into the floor with your pacing.” You patted the bench beside you. “This is supposed to be stress free, Javi.” 

“I’m not stressed,” Javier asserted as he sank down onto the bench beside you, reaching for your hand. “I just wanna do this right.” He interlaced his fingers with yours. “I don’t want either of us to regret this.” 

You shook your head slowly as you gave his hand three short squeezes, “Javi, we’ve already lived a dozen lifetimes in these ten-ish years that we’ve been in each other’s lives. I cannot picture my life without you.” You leaned towards him, resting your cheek against his shoulder. “You’re stuck with me. Permanently.” 

Javier kissed the top of your head, “There’s no one I’d rather be stuck with.” 

“Not even Steve?” You teased, tilting your head to rest your chin on his shoulder. “You promise you’re not going to tell him?”

“I kept a whole baby secret from him,” He rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand. “I can keep this secret.” 

“Javi?” You questioned softly. 

“Hmm?” 

“You’ve always wanted to marry me, haven’t you?”

He shrugged, “A little, yeah.” 

You smiled adoringly at him, reaching up to brush your fingers through the hair that fell against his forehead. “Thank you for never trying to pressure me.” 

“It was never a deal breaker.” Javier admitted, “I just know I want to be with you.” He brought your hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle. 

“I kinda got that vibe at Danny’s wedding.” You told him, chewing on your bottom lip. “The way you asked me if that was what I wanted… like you were picturing our first dance or something.”

He nodded his head slowly, “I might not seem like it, but I’m old fashion at my core.” 

“I know you are Tex,” You taunted, kissing his cheek. “You’ve never pushed me to be someone I’m not and that is why I want to marry you, Javier.” 

Javier’s lips drew upwards into a smile, “I love you.” 

You tilted your head and kissed him, “Those are the only vows I need.” 

The clerk stepped back out into the hallway, “He’s ready to see both of you. Do you have your license?” 

“Yes!” You rose to your feet and passed her the license you’d received just a few hours ago and both of your passports. Javier kept a hand at the small of your back as he walked with you as she led you into the judge’s office. 

“This is the Honorable R. C. Johnson,” The woman explained to you as the older gentleman sitting behind the desk. 

“Welcome, welcome,” He ushered you in and gestured to the seats across from his desk. “Please, sit. I apologize for the delay.” 

“This was all very last minute,” You offered with a quiet laugh. “We were fine with waiting.” You looked towards Javier then, your heart doing somersaults when you met his gaze. He’d always looked at you like that and it never failed to make you weak in the knees. 

The judge unfolded a pair of reading glasses and perched them on the edge of his nose as he looked over your marriage license, “I see you’re both from Florida.” 

Javier rubbed at the back of his neck, “We’ve been living there for four years.” 

“Are you on vacation?”

You nodded, “We decided to get married this morning.” You reached over and took Javier’s hand into yours. “It’s been a long time coming.”

“Well, in that case I suppose I shouldn’t make the two of you wait,” The judge remarked, clasping his hands together as he looked between the two of you. “Susan here will serve as witness,” He gestured towards the woman who had helped the pair of you. “I tend to perform a rather basic ceremony — all we need is a pair of “I do’s” for things to be legalized.” He explained, “Do you have vows?”

“We’ve always been pretty good at winging things.” You remarked with a short laugh. “Neither of us is particularly religious.” 

“And none of the obeying bullshit.” Javier asserted, rocking his jaw stiffly as he stared at the judge. 

“Easy enough,” He nodded. “Do you have rings?” 

You and Javier exchanged a look. “Not quite,” You explained, removing the silver bracelet you wore on your left wrist and sitting it on the desk in front of you. Javier did the same with his ring, sitting it beside your bracelet. “Will these do?”

“You two certainly are unconventional, aren’t you?” Judge Johnson remarked with a hearty chuckle, “They’ll do. It’s all about the vows, anyways.” He waved his hand as you rose to his feet. “Let’s get to it, shall we?”

Javier kept your hand tight in his grasp as you both rose to your feet, turning to face each other. “You ready to do this, baby?”

You nodded, beaming at him. “Never thought I would be, but I am.”  

“Whenever you’re ready,” The judge interrupted, “You’re welcome to say whatever vows you’d like to make to one another. Then we’ll proceed on with the necessities and get you on your way.” 

“Oh.” You bit down on your bottom lip. It was like all at once you couldn’t think of a single sensible thing to say in lieu of vows. “You go first.” You squeezed his hand.

Javier laughed nervously, “Shit. Alright.” He scratched at his jaw with his free hand, brows furrowed. “I think… I think I always knew you were the one for me,” He started as he met your gaze. “Your damn fuck you cactus. You called it a sequoia and I just…” He shook his head slowly. 

“Baby, it’s always been you.” Javier’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “And I wish I’d realized that sooner. Could’ve spared us a hell of a lot of heartache and misunderstandings… But we wouldn’t have three beautiful daughters if things had turned out differently. Who knows what the future might hold for us, but I know you’ll be by my side and that makes the unknown worth it all.” 

“Javi, you’re going to make me cry.” You scolded him lightly, wiping a stray tear off your cheek. “I don’t know how to follow up on that.” You shook your head. “You know everything about my childhood, you know everything about me. I never pictured myself as a mother or a partner, I never imagined myself having a house and a dog in Miami. But somehow you came into my life and made me want impossible things. I’ve loved you for so long, Javi.” You blinked as you felt fresh tears starting to spill from your eyes. “There’s no one else I’d rather stay up with watching telenovelas until four in the morning on a work night.” 

Javier chuckled, lifting your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles. 

“You’re a good man, Javier.” You said with a quiet sniffle. “And I promise to take all of our secrets to the grave.” 

He snorted, “Only you would bring that up in wedding vows.” 

You grinned at him, “All I know is that I love you. I always have and I always will.” 

Judge Johnson cleared his throat, “If you’d like to take the ring.” 

You picked the ring up off the desk, holding on to Javier’s hand. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“I know, baby.” 

“Do you take this man to be your husband?” 

Oh shit. It was happening. 

You held Javier’s gaze as you answered simply, “I do.” 

“You may now place the ring on his finger.” 

Javier reached out and wiped a tear away as it slid down your cheek. “I love you, baby.” 

“I love you too.” You whispered as you placed the ring on his finger. “God, I still remember when you wanted this ring and swore you didn’t want to get married.” You teased with a grin. “Like I’ve said before, you’re a terrible liar.” 

He shrugged a shoulder. “You’re the one who proposed marriage.” 

“Touché.” 

“If you would like to take the ring — er,  bracelet.”

“We can never do things the normal way,” Javier remarked as he picked up the bracelet. “Think we can slip today’s date onto these?” He questioned, giving your hand three little squeezes as he met your hands.

“We might.” 

“Do you take this woman to be your wife?”

“I do.” Javier answered without hesitation, “I’d take whatever she was willing to give me.” 

“Stop.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“You may now place the bracelet on her wrist.” 

Javier slid it on your wrist, bringing your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss just below the band. “We should’ve had him declare us partners for life.” He quipped, ever part of his features lit up with the grin that seemed permanently affixed to his lips. 

“By the authority vested in me by the State of California, I pronounce you to each other, husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Holy shit. You were married. 

You stepped towards him, draping your arms over his shoulder. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, baby.” Javier breathed out, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. Your hand curled around the back of his head, fingers playing through his hair. 

Susan and the judge both clapped for you. “I’ve officiated my fair share of off-beat weddings, but I have never officiated one quite like the two of you,” He chuckled. “I have many questions about what a ‘fuck you’ cactus is.”

You snorted as you turned towards the judge, “I had this cactus that had the perfect middle finger growth on it.” You explained. “So I’d flip him off with it.”

“All the time.” 

“Well, I wish you both all the joy and happiness that comes with marriage.” He offered with a polite smile, “My wife and I just recently celebrated our thirtieth year of marriage and I have never regretted a day.” He sat back down in his seat, signing off on your license before passing it to you. “You’ll have to file this with the courthouse and have a copy sent to your mailing address.” 

“Thank you,” You looked down at the license  — the ink still drying on the page. 

Susan saw the pair of you out of the judge’s office, offering to take a picture of the two of you in front of the grand staircase at the center of the building. The best part of the picture was that no part of it screamed ‘just married’. You looked like a couple on vacation who had found a nice spot to take a picture. 

You had already decided it would go in a frame and hang somewhere in the house. Maybe in the family room on the wall by the TV — the day you got married sitting in full sight for everyone to see. 

[imjeralee]

Comfort in Despair: Chapter 18 - The Witch of Wedgehurst

Leon x F!Reader

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon

Summary:

Galar is rich in folklore and tales of the supernatural.

As a Pokemon Researcher who specialises in ghost types, this is a great opportunity for you to investigate and learn more about the paranormal.

Along the way, you meet Leon (in the most awkward way possible) who becomes embroiled in your adventures.

^ Basically this story is about ghosts :/

Rating: General/Teen

@marydragneell​ oh my goodness, I almost forgot to keep the tag list on my chapter updates. Sorry T_T

The Witch of Wedgehurst

...

...

["Oh please, say to me You'll let me be your man And please, say to me You'll let me hold your hand Now, let me hold your hand I want to hold your hand."

- I Want To Hold Your Hand, The Beatles]

…

…

In the laboratory, you are occupied with Leon’s flowers and Pokemon School is forgotten for now. You are keen to display them and intend to keep them for alive for as long as possible, and you grab a pair of scissors from Magnolia’s stationary tub and find a spare vase in the cupboard underneath the sink which you rinse out before you fill it with some water.

You’re not a professional at flower arranging in any manner whatsoever but you carefully unravel the cellophane and neatly take the flowers out one by one, placing them over the table until the bouquet rustles, and you suddenly hear a loud squeak.

“What was that?”

Looking up and around, the ghost pokemon haven’t seem to have noticed. Gengar and Runerigus are playing upstairs, shadow tag or something, whilst you have left Mimikyu on her own with pieces of blank paper and some felt-tip pens.

Perhaps you’d heard wrong.

With an inward shrug, you pull out another flower and the squeaking returns and it occurs to you it’s coming from within the bouquet so you gently pry some flowers apart and it’s then you see a tiny little yellow pokemon nestled within, blinking its massive, bright and wet eyes at you.

“Oh!” you exclaim, before you scoop the Sunkern out and hold it up in the base of your palms. “Oh my gosh, what are you doing here, little guy?”

It squeaks and jiggles up and down in your palm, shaking its two leaves happily.

“I wonder how long you were in there,” you murmur, before you gently place him over the surface of the table.

He ends up rolling around in a semi-circle and comes to a stop, lying on his back. Squeaking for you, he is unable to get up so you scoop him into your palms once more, inch a mug over and prop him up against the handle. He squeaks loudly with gratitude and you giggle.

“So cute…” you coo, as you reach over and pet him affectionately on the leaves. “You can stay right here with me.”

But he must be hungry and thirsty, you think, so you find Magnolia’s mini Phanpy watering can by one of the potted plants. It’s almost empty so you fill it in the sink and head over to your little Sunkern before you sprinkle some water over his leaves.

He blinks and looks up, then begins gulping some of the water and bounces up and down on the spot.

Pulling a seat out, you plop yourself down and pick up one of the flowers, snipping off an inch or so of the stem before you slip it into the awaiting vase.

The ghost pokemon eventually return to you, with Gengar slinking into one seat and Runerigus standing beside you and you smile at your pokemon as they gather around. Mimikyu pokes your arm with a claw and as you turn round, she's waving a piece of paper in the air; she wants to show you what she drew and you take the picture off her. It's a crude drawing of Mimikyu stabbing a Pikachu, complete with blood. Below, she has scribbled ‘Me Kill Pikachu’. You put the drawing down, then turn to Mimikyu who giggles and waves her tendrils around happily in the air.

“….I think I’m gonna keep an eye on you from now on,” you murmur but she merely snickers and climbs into a seat.

With a shadowy claw, she picks up a single flower before she's joined by Runerigus who copies her action, twirling the flower around in his fingers and Gengar does the same.

“Ohh, do you want to help me out?” you ask with a smile, and everyone nods. “Thank you, I would like that very much.”

The pokemon respond cheerfully and together, you work on preparing the bouquet which doesn't take long with your pokemon helping you. Mimikyu and Gengar pass you the flowers one by one and you snip the stems off carefully and pass it to Runerigus who slips it into the awaiting vase. You finish up in a few minutes or so, and Runerigus appears to have taken a liking to flower arrangement and his skills are impressive. He’s very careful and gentle with the flowers which you are grateful for and once the vase is full, you empty the packet of flower food supplied and pick the vase up.

“Now grow strong, my pretties,” you say with a cackle, and your pokemon join in, grinning and chortling by your side. “Alright, let’s go home.”

The pokemon cheer and Gengar leaps into your shadow whilst Mimikyu and Runerigus return to their capsules.

You want to display the vase in the house, somewhere in the conservatory where it can get as much sunlight as possible. Donning your jacket, you slip Sunkern into your pocket since he doesn't have a pokeball yet and when you ensure that he won't slip out, you smile as he squeaks and nestles himself into the small slot. He looks rather cosy and you proceed to switch off all the lights of the lab and inspect the space once more in case you forgot anything, then carefully scoop the vase up with one hand, close the door and lock it behind you.

As you pull the key out, a loud swoop penetrates the atmosphere along with an alarmed squeak from Sunkern; a dark shadow has appeared from literally out of nowhere and with claws out, it dives for your bouquet and proceeds to tear at the flowers before you can stop it.

The momentum knocks the vase out of your hands and it meets the concrete, shattering into various pieces.

"NOW!"

You're staring wordlessly at the mess on the ground and so you don't even notice the trio of youngsters who jump out from the bushes by the lab with a loud battle cry and their arms are full of little pebbles, which they promptly begin to toss at your direction.

"Witch!" they yell, "take this, you evil witch!!"

Their voices are so far away, your gaze transfixed on the destroyed bouquet at your feet.

Making no effort to avoid the stones, one sharp pebble in particular smacks you in the side of the head and the edge tears at your skin.

Gengar immediately emerges from your shadow on the door, his eyes glowing a furious red as he holds his arms out. The stones stop in mid-air, surrounded by a dark purple glow, before they go shooting the opposite direction and towards the kids. He is joined by Runerigus who leaves his capsule in a burst of light. He guards you, preventing any loose stones from hitting you; they smack into his large and rocky body instead though the pebbles are akin to a piece of cork being thrown against a brick wall, and he roars as loudly as he can at the children.

They wail and scream as Gengar pelts them in return with their own stones, and they spin on their heel to make a hasty retreat only to be met with Mimikyu.

"Pick on someone your own size!!" Mimikyu growls, before her ragdoll disguise splits into two, unleashing many shadowy tendrils to smack them on their rears as they scrabble away. Spearow follows them, who is promptly returned to its pokeball by one of the kids.

She attempts to chase after them but you say, "Mimikyu, stop."

"But-"

You shake your head and her ragdoll body pieces itself back together and she shuffles over to your side; you thank the pokemon for protecting you but the damage is done. Leon's flowers are ravaged and you gaze limply at the scattered pieces of the broken vase.

"...It's ruined," you mumble under your breath, before you emit a sigh and shake your head. "...I can't believe it."

You had them for less than fifteen minutes.

They were a gift to you.

From Leon.

Leon.

Frustration claws its way into your system along with an overwhelming urge to mourn, and the corner of your eyes become prickled with tears; you dab at them hastily and Gengar pats you on the head whilst Mimikyu and Runerigus rub your back. You thank your pokemon again and lower yourself to a crouch, picking up the broken pieces. They join in, helping you tidy up the glass and the flowers silently, before Runerigus finds an intact white flower which survived the onslaught and he nudges it for your taking.

"Oh...Thank you, Runi."

His eye creases slightly before he plops his large hand atop your head and you smile at him as you hold the flower gingerly in hands. You will protect this flower at all costs.

"He says...it's going to be okay," Mimikyu pipes up and you nod.

"Thanks Mimi. Thanks everyone. C'mon...Let's go," you murmur.

With your pokemon by your side, the walk back home is a long one.

...

Sonia's not home yet and Magnolia and Yamper are still sleeping. It's just you on your own as usual. It's a typical night you suppose (aside from the stoning), and after you carefully put the salvaged flower into another vase in the conservatory, you lift Sunkern out from your pocket and settle him into one of the larger potted plants where he can sit in the soil and hopefully soak up all the nutrients he needs to grow healthy and strong. Sunkern glances around his new home and squeaks happily at you before burrowing inside, closing his eyes.

He's out for the night so you head upstairs to take a shower. Gengar, Mimikyu and Runerigus remain in the lounge, watching you plod upstairs with your head low.

"Let’s find those kids and kill them, mi mi," Mimikyu growls, curling one claw into a tight fist.

Gengar and Runerigus throw each other concerned glances before Gengar floats up and into the air, shaking his head.

"Then let's curse them, mi."

Gengar pauses, partially tempted, but shakes his head once more.

Killing or cursing children is not the answer so he iterates that they should focus on cheering up their trainer.

He suggests they should call Leon, perhaps.

"Call Leon, mi?"

He nods, and Runerigus seems happy to go along with this plan too.

"Yes, let's do that, mi," Mimikyu replies, clapping two tendrils together, "Rotom?"

There is a brief silence until your phone comes hovering towards the lounge, having been summoned.

"Yo wazzzup, what'zzzz the - Bzzzrt!! What???"

Mimikyu envelopes Rotom with her tendrils and reels him in to sit in front of her, tapping at the screen with her claws, going through the phonebook and finding Leon's contact number. You only have five contacts so it didn't take long at all and she spots Leon's name and hastily presses the button. Rotom switches to phone mode and it rings for a few seconds. The ghost pokemon wait with baited breath as they huddle in front of your phone, watching the screen.

The screen flickers on before Leon abruptly appears.

"Hi - oh, what's this?" he utters, shocked by what he's seeing.

"Mi hello."

"Mimikyu?"

"Yes, it is mi, Mimikyu."

"What's wrong?" Leon asks, before he asks for your whereabouts. Are you okay? Has something happened? Arceus, are you in trouble???

"It's an emergency, mi mi, the flowers. She is in trouble, mi. Come to the house."

"I'll come over right now!" He exclaims without a second to spare; he promptly hangs up and Mimikyu giggles, clasping her tendrils together.

Her work here is done.

...

"I can't fight it anymore. I ran away from you once. I can't do it again. Oh, I don't know what's right any longer. You'll have to think for both of us, for all of us."

"All right, I will. Here's looking at you, kid."

"I wish I didn't love you so much."

Sappy, romantic music plays from the TV as you watch the couple on screen embrace tightly.

"They make it look so easy," you mumble as you sit slouched low on the sofa, grabbing a handful of chips from the bowl and shoving them into your mouth and crunching on them noisily whilst Gengar and Runerigus sit beside you, sipping their tea.

Then the doorbell rings and there's someone pounding on the front door.

Who could that possibly be, and at this hour?

Did Sonia forget her key again?

You stop stuffing your face and emit an exhausted 'mrrgfhhh', before you drag yourself up and off the couch, yelling, "Sonnie, you're lucky I'm home tonight!" as you shuffle over. Once you're at the door, you peer through the peephole and gasp when you see who it is. "No way!" you exclaim under your breath.

You hastily unlock the front door and throw it open, revealing that it is none other than a flustered-looking Leon who stands in full Champion gear on your doorstep.

For a second or so, you both blink at each other before spluttering out simultaneously:

"Leon?!" "Are you okay?"

You blink whilst his face goes red.

"I'm okay." "Mimikyu called me and said you were in trouble!"

"...Sorry."

"Um. Y-you go first."

Leon subjects you to a look from head to toe; here you are barefoot with a large bag of original-flavoured chips in one hand. No trouble here.

You cringe, hoping he didn't hear you yelling about Sonia.

"I-I'm fine, Leon, there's no emergency," you toss a glance to the lounge where your Rotom phone and the rest of the Pokemon wave and waggle their fingers and claws at you. "Wait. You said Mimikyu called you?"

He nods and notices the cut on your forehead.

You quickly piece two and two together and cringe again. ".....Oh god, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Leon. It's a false alarm. I'll keep a closer eye on Mimikyu from now on. I'm fine. Really, I am."

He does not look entirely swayed so you nod vigorously to convince him.

"Um, do you want to come in?" you ask, holding the door open.

"Ah...I-I can't. The beauty pageant is tonight."

"Tonight?!"

"Yeah."

You blink cluelessly as you had absolutely no knowledge of this but you supposed it was due to your lack of interest in current affairs. However, Leon didn't mention it to you either and neither did anyone else; you can only presume no-one in your limited social circle is interested in the pageant and you're brought out of your reverie when Leon raises a hand to carefully brush away some hair from the side of your face and you freeze on the spot as his fingertips gently press against the small wound.

You wince under his touch and he murmurs, "What happened?"

"I got stoned. Literally," you grumble with a roll of your eyes.

"Mimikyu mentioned something about flowers."

Your face falls. "Oh. Right. Um....yeah, about that..." you give Leon an exasperated look and sigh, "...they're ruined."

You tell him about the kids.

Leon's expression softens before he pulls his hand away to wrap around your own. "I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you. Come with me."

"...Where?"

He chuckles. "My house."

And Leon smiles reassuringly at you and so you nod and grab your coat. Returning your pokemon into their capsules, you slip into your shoes and fling a glance to the staircase. Magnolia hasn't woken up so you quietly lock the door behind you and join Leon on the stony path. He gives you a warm smile and you return his smile with a fond one of your own, pulling the lapels of your coat tighter to yourself.

"So, how long do you have before they notice you're gone?"

"Half hour or so."

"Really?"

"Yes, they think I'm in my dressing room."

"Oh, Leon."

He's snooping out to see you; this isn't like him at all, but you can't help but feel happy.

"When Mimikyu called, I was so worried. I had to see you," he utters.

You pause slightly in mid-step, your heart fluttering for the umpteenth time; Leon responds with a sheepish smile.

As you meander further down the path with him, you sigh and throw your glimpse to the night sky. It's getting colder and Leon sticks close to you which you are grateful for as he provides some extra warmth to you just by being close.

Your footsteps echo one another and your shoulders nudge together. On several periods, you'll carefully slide your glance to his direction and you will see him smiling to himself. You like that about him, how he's always wearing a kind smile no matter what.

With that thought in mind, your cheeks warm up all over again and your fingers suddenly brush together as Leon steps a little closer to you than necessary and the sides of your palm briefly come into contact.

You stiffen somewhat yet you do not retreat from his action so your hands linger millimetres apart in some kind of limbo before Leon ultimately takes charge and uses his pinky finger to hook around yours and pull you in just a little closer to him. It's a careful and calculated movement on his part to test the waters but it's enough to make you blush.

As Leon glances at you from the corner of his eyes to gauge your reaction, you weave your pinky finger around his in return and for a while as you're walking along the linear path from Wedgehurst to Postwick, you wish this tender moment you are sharing with the Champion would never end, though you inwardly hope there would be more.

As though reading your thoughts, Leon decides to step it up a notch and slinks his ring finger around yours.

He's becoming bold for good reason, and you encourage him further by mimicking his action and looping your middle finger around his and this continues until the rest of your fingers entwine together and the two of you are holding hands very firmly.

Neither of you say a word nor do you look at one another but your heart pounds and he clears his throat silently. You dare to sneak a peek at him again to see what he's up to, and you see he's got this goofy smile plastered on his handsome face and his cheeks are tickled pink.

His hand is much bigger than yours and also a lot warmer and the base of his palm is rather callused, probably from long and hard years of training with his Pokemon. Initially nothing else happens until Leon gives your hand a squeeze and you respond by rubbing your thumb over his and this sets off a brief fondling session where he slides his thumb over the smooth skin of your knuckles and you shiver somewhat before you squeeze his hand playfully in return.

This enjoyable moment does unfortunately comes to an end when you arrive at Leon's house and as if on cue, the front door opens and Leon's mother pokes her head outside, glancing at the two of you in surprise.

"Leo!?" she exclaims, before she sees your joined hands and her eyes actively pop out of her sockets. "Oh my."

"Hi mum."

She giggles and holds the door wide open; ecstatic to see you both, she proceeds to usher you inside. "This is such a lovely surprise! Come in, come in, my dear!"

"Thank you very much."

She's not alone. Hop emerges from the lounge, clutching Wooloo in his arms. "Lee???"

"Hi Hop."

He shouts with joy, diving for his older brother, "What are you doing here???"

"Unfortunately I can't stay for long," Leon replies, chuckling.

The grandparents are missing but you imagine they're most likely fast asleep. Leon sheepishly explains to his family why he's brought you over but his mother says no reason or explanation is necessary and she's extremely glad to have you over and see you again; you will need to catch up later, she says. She's smiling widely at you and you're not sure what's quite going on.

"What in the name of Arceus happened to you, dear?" Leon's mum asks; she has noticed the nasty cut on the side of your head and your bandaged arm.

"Ah....it's nothing. Just an accident."

"Oh dear, let's get that looked at ASAP," she hastily steers you to the kitchen where she seats you in a random chair and Leon follows, settling himself into the chair beside yours whilst Hop lingers at the doorway with Wooloo. Leon's mum bustles around the kitchen, locating the first-aid kit from a cupboard near the sink which she brings over; immediately, Leon begins sifting for the appropriate supplies.

"Mum, I can take it from here," he says, fishing out a cotton swab, some ointment and a clean plaster.

Surprised, Leon's mum nods and nudges the kit further for his taking. Then she hastily makes a swift exit, grabbing Hop and Wooloo along the way.

"Whoa!!" Hop exclaims, but she goes 'sshhhh, they need to be alone!' and then it grows silent.

You watch their retreating backs whilst Leon reaches over and dabs at your cut with the cotton, sweeping ointment over the wound.

"Tell me if I hurt you," he murmurs.

"...M'kay."

You sit still in the chair with your back straight as much as possible, head tilted to the ceiling slightly so Leon can brush the small cut with the ointment. He applies the plaster over your skin once the task is completed, smoothing it down with his fingers.

"There we go."

"Thanks Leon."

He grins, leaning forwards in his seat to grab and squeeze your hand affectionately. "...You can call me 'Lee'."

A smile worms its way across your face as your gazes meet and you're both smiling at each other; however, the moment is short-lived when Leon catches glimpse of the clock behind you on the wall and his smile drops.

"I should go."

"Okay," you say, with a sulk.

He chuckles and releases your hand, rising to stand and adjusting his cap and you follow him out of the kitchen and into the landing; mum and Hop return, keen to know what's going on and what's up between the two of you and whatnot. He exchanges some brief words with his family before they share a quick embrace; he needs to return to Wyndon. The beauty pageant is beginning in forty minutes and his presence cannot be missed.

"I'll see you guys soon," he promises as he exits the house and steps into the front yard. Mum and Hop follow him out and so do you, watching as he releases Charizard from his capsule. The flame pokemon lands on the ground and spreads his wings, glancing at Leon expectantly.

"Bye Lee!" Hop shouts, waving fiercely as Leon climbs over Charizard's awaiting back.

"Be safe, dear."

"I will!" Leon yells with a wide grin; he waves to his mother and brother before his eyes lands on you and his grin widens. Your cheeks heat up and you wave as the flame pokemon manoeuvres himself into position, stamping his large and bulky hind legs over the ground as he prepares for lift off. Leon pats the side of his neck and the pokemon huffs loudly. "Charizard, let's go!"

Emitting a loud roar, Charizard flaps his wings and in one massive swoop, he takes off to the sky, disappearing in a blink.

Leon is gone.

You linger with his family outside before they decide to retreat into their warm and toasty house.

"Why don't stay here for the time being, my dear?" says Leon's mum, nudging her head towards the direction of the living room.

"Yeah!! Let's watch the beauty pageant together!" Hop exclaims, and you nod.

"Thank you. That would be nice."

"I'll get the popcorn!" Hop yells, and he rushes past you and into the kitchen.

“And I’ll get the camera,” says mum, before she dashes to one of the cupboards near the mantelpiece, pulling it wide open and lifting out an old-fashioned camcorder which she hastily switches on. "I always record all of Leo's programs or shows."

You join her as she plops herself down on one of the plushy couches and Hop returns into the living room with a large bowl of popcorn. He climbs over the settee with Wooloo and switches the TV on, passing the popcorn to you, and the TV, switched to the Galar main broadcasting channel, is now playing the Miss Galar Beauty Pageant theme song with the logo slapped over the screen. Checking the clock on the wall, you think Sonia might be home by now...no doubt, she'd be watching the pageant too.

"Have you watched the Miss Galar pageants before?" Hop asks, and you shake your head. "It's a blast! Lee's been a judge for five years now!"

"Oh, r-really?"

He nods. "Yeah, and some girls get really attached to him after that."

"Oh," you say again.

You're not really surprised.

"I swear, every year some floozy decides to latch onto our Leo and obsessively call him 'hers'." huffs Leon's mum, who shakes her head as she stuffs some popcorn into her mouth.

The show begins and it's an impressive display; the stage is alit with loud modern music and bright lights, accompanied with dancers and pokemon in funky costumes who parade around onstage and you watch as two men and a woman in evening outfits along with a Clefable appear at the very end of the extravagant opening, excitedly introducing themselves as the presenters of the program; it's taking place at Wyndon stadium and the pitch has been converted from Pokemon battle arena to a stage ripe for a pageant, with a massive T-shaped catwalk, tonnes of spotlights and various tables and chairs for the judges. It's a full audience, too.

The judges are introduced; looks like Leon made it in time because he's sitting at his designated table and waving to the crowd once the spotlight is on him. The audience cheers at wildly for him as he smiles and waves. He is impeccable as always.

With camcorder in hand, Leon's mum flicks her gaze to you and directs the camera to your direction to record your reaction whilst Hop points and hoots excitedly.

"There he is, there he is!!! Lee!!!"

"Thank you," Leon on TV says, and your heart thuds terribly when you see his grinning face on screen.

The remaining judges are introduced but you're too busy gawking at Leon to pay attention to the other judges and when the camera returns to the Champion, Hop exclaims and jumps up and down in his seat all over again.

The pageant begins, curtains rising, and the contestants step onto the stage; the judges are strategically seated so they can get a good view. The contenders consist of tall and beautiful young women dressed in swimsuits with ribbons looped around their bodies detailing where they're from. There's Miss Postwick, Miss Wedgehurst, Miss Turrfield and so on.

Each and every single contestant proudly stride past the judges and Leon, waving cheerfully to the crowd with massive smiles on their faces. These ladies are extremely fit and slender, with lean bodies and not a single blemish on their body. Their high heels are a ridiculous height yet they have no difficulty as they perform the rehearsed routine with the dancers and Pokemon behind them.

It's a long show.

You plough through two gruelling hours with Hop and Leon's mum, going through three or so bags of popcorn altogether as each and every single contestant go through several montages; they are interviewed and questioned, receive the opportunity to show off their dresses and swimsuits, demonstrate their unique talents, talk about their goals and visions for Galar and soon it's time for the results, beginning with third place.

"Are you ready folks? It's time to reveal who our third runner up is!" exclaims one of the presenters and you are all on the edge of your seats as you await the result.

A red throne has been carried to the middle of the catwalk where the winner will sit. After the short drumroll, Miss Spikemuth is called out and the audience goes wild. A pale-skinned young woman with long and flowy jet black hair stalks over to the three-tiered podium where a man in a tuxedo with a ribbon and tiara is waiting for her. The camera shifts to Leon and the judges who clap for her.

"Congratulations, Miss Spikemuth! Now......second runner up....is-!!!"

"I hope it's Miss Ballonlea," you utter. "Her talent was very impressive."

"Yes, that flute recital was very enchanting," says Leon's mum.

"I hope she wins too," says Hop.

"Miss Ballonlea!!!"

You, Leon's mum and Hop whoop, then you all exchange a high five.

Miss Ballonlea, a blonde-haired woman, joins Miss Spikemuth on the opposite of the podium whilst crying incessantly.

"And finally, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you've all been waiting for...WHO will be this year's Miss Galar????"

The drumroll intensifies.

And the living room is quiet until-

"Miss Postwick! Miss Postwick!" cheers Leon's mum, whilst you're secretly rooting for Miss Wedgehurst to win.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this year's Miss Galar Beauty Pageant IS.........."

The suspense is killing you all.

"....MISS HULBURY!!!!"

A small fraction of the crowd who hail from the city cheer wildly as an extremely attractive young woman steps forwards, clasping both hands over her mouth in shock. Confetti is tossed over her and a fanfare plays; Leon and the remaining judges move to stand, clapping as she glances around the stage, awestruck and numb. The unsuccessful contestants clap, though some look a little annoyed by the results.

"Give it up for Miss Hulbury!!! Congratulations, your city must be very proud of you!" the TV presenter roars wildly into the microphone and he beckons her to join the other two crowned contestants, though she briefly steps on the podium for a few seconds or so before all the winners leave.

They head for the red throne though Miss Hulbury seats herself down and soon, you see Leon leaving his seat and heading for the stage.

This is the first time you've watched a Miss Galar Beauty Pageant and you're not sure what he's doing, but a whole shebang of awards are presented to Miss Hulbury consisting of a glistening silver tiara, a silver sceptre with the symbol of Galar, a ribbon and a red velvet cape that...looks similar to Leon's????

The tiara is carefully fastened atop her head by the young man in a tux and she is handed the jewel-encrusted silver sceptre. The ribbon is also fixed around her torso and Leon arrives at her side as the cape is looped over her shoulders; she looks at him and smiles.

The newly crowned Miss Galar rises to stand and joins the Champion, who offers his arm to her.

As you watch the scene unfold, you lean forwards in your seat, your eyes glued to the screen. Hop and Leon's mum swerve their gazes to you.

Background music begins to play and Wyndon stadium is alit with cheering and applause.

"There she is, Miss Galar...there she is, your ideal....the dream of a million girls who are more than pretty can come true in Wyndon City ~ " one of the presenters begins to sing, joined with a Clefable, with his arm out as the beautiful young woman strolls down the catwalk with sceptre in hand and her arm looped around Leon's, her cape fluttering with his.

You gape as they stride to one side of the catwalk and back, and it feels like the walk of eternity until they return to the middle and Leon pulls his arm away gently so she can return to the throne; they shake hands and she reclaims her seat on the red velvet chair, smiling and waving for the camera.

She blows a kiss, and the screen fades to black.

....

Meanwhile.

It’s night-time.

She discovers she’s standing underneath an old and large, derelict tower for some reason, damp and cold.

There’s a single thought running through her mind right now and it is quite simple: I want to go home.

Home.

Where is home?

….Motostoke….Twenty three…Dorset… Road…

Where is she?

Glancing around, she has no recognition of where she is nor does she recognise her surroundings.

However, the loud crow of a bird pokemon along with a rather frantic and anxious yell of “Miss, are you okay?” grabs her attentions and she glances up to the dark sky to see a Corviknight taxi landing before her. The windscreen wipers are switched on, the rubber blades squeaking against the glass as they swipe away the heavy rain in hypnotic fashion.

The cabbie hops off the vehicle, heavy-duty boots crunching over the squelchy mud as he holds onto his woolly trapper hat which is threatening to blow away in the wind.

“Good heavens, Miss, a-are you alright?” he squawks in alarm as he looks at her from head to toe. Even Corviknight seems perturbed by her appearance, his red eyes widening thoroughly.

“....Home,” she merely says as she settles her limp gaze on the little man, “I want to go home.”

“Uh, Miss, I think I outta take you to the nearest hospital…”

“Home,” she says again, blinking through the raindrops that batter her bedraggled form and pelt her eyelashes. “I want to go home.”

“Okay, where do you live? I’ll give you a ride,” the cabbie replies and he dashes to his carriage, climbs the ladder and returns to his perch atop his large steed.

“Motostoke,” she says, “Twenty three…..Dorset Road…”

"Got it, hop in!"

The cabbie watches her slip inside the empty, awaiting carriage and close the door. She sits rigidly in the chair, staring limply ahead of her.

On the small control panel of the cab, he locks the door, grabs onto the reigns of Corviknight and instructs the large bird to take off to the skies despite the heavy rain. A thunderstorm is in the making and the wind is reported to be over eighty miles per hour but he is undaunted. The cabbie braves the fierce storm and avoids some dangerous-looking clouds; Corviknight, being a seasoned flier with over eighty thousand miles or so of experience, isn’t shaken by the random bouts of lightning and the loud, overhead boom of thunder as they traverse the miserable sky.

He’s not supposed to fly in these conditions, but it doesn’t help that he was trying to get out of the storm and the Wild Area as quickly as possible after depositing a customer near North Lake Miloch and happened to see a blood-stained girl on the ground looking rather lost and dazed near the ruins of the old Watchtower.

However, he can’t shake off the feeling that there is something wrong with her.

She’s drenched in blood, covered in bruises, donned in raggedy clothing…she’s clearly shocked and confused and needs help.

He should report this, and once Motostoke looms into view, he finds the address the girl had stated and presses down on a button that links to the intercom inside the cab.

“Miss? We’re here.”

Awaiting for a response, he is however, greeted with silence and the occasional crackling of static.

He shrugs inwardly and directs Corviknight to land in front of a two-storey detached house with red bricks and a white door and the cab lands safely on the ground, a low but steady grumble emitting from the earth upon arrival. Immobile, he unlocks the cabbie door, climbs off his steed and down the ladder whilst the bird stretches his wings and shakes himself, sending huge droplets of water into the air.

The cabbie goes up to the door of the cab, peers through the window and proceeds to gasp loudly.

The interior of the cab is empty.

He flings the door open and pokes his head inside.

“S-she’s gone?!!” he cries, before he tears off his goggles as though determined to ensure that his old eyes were not playing tricks on him.

Summoned by the commotion outside and a random Corviknight taxi, the front door to the house of twenty three Dorset Road opens and a middle-aged woman and a teenage girl with a Sylveon peek out.

“….Can we help you?” the woman asks.

The cabbie gawks at the woman and lass and points frantically at his own cab. “The girl!!! The passenger!!! She’s gone!!! She asked to be taken to Motostoke, twenty three Dorset Road!!! I swear she was inside and never got out, the doors are automatically locked and only I can unlock or lock and the door alarm never went off, I-“

The pair blink numbly as he babbles and flails uncontrollably over the missing hitchhiker.

“…A girl?” asks the woman, after he gives up on trying to explain and pants and groans heavily.

He nods and takes off his hat, fanning himself. “Yeah!!! She had dark hair and-and she was covered all over in blood, she was all bruised and battered all over!!!! Never mind. Forget it, I-I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am.”

Shaking his head, he wonders who will pay for the cabbie ride. Most likely, it will be deducted from his wages.

However, the woman promptly bursts into tears and rushes back inside the house. The muffled sound of a door slamming can be heard.

The cabbie gawks for a moment or so before the teenage girl with the Sylveon leaves the doorstep of her house and strides up to him.

“That was my sister,” she says, “you’re not the only one to bring her home. Thanks.”

“H-huh?”

The girl digs a hand into her pocket and pulls out her purse, pulling out some frayed notes which she plops into his hand. “This should cover the taxi fare.”

...

[prairiesongserial]

14.10

Friday left John sitting on the trailer steps. She felt queasy, which was annoying. She hadn’t had that much to drink. She was beginning to feel annoyed by her sequined dress, too, which forced her to walk like a lady. She had chosen it for the campfire because the firelight reflected in every sequin, drawing the eye and holding it as a hundred little shimmering fires moved with the contour of her body. Friday looked fucking good in this dress. So of course she had chosen to spend her night stumbling through the dark alone, where no one could appreciate it.

Friday eventually found Johannes’s trailer. The door was locked, but that was hardly a deterrent. Friday slipped a couple of pins out of her blond wig and set to work on the lock. As she felt around inside the lock, she stared at the gold-painted, rhinestone-decorated box no bigger than her thumb nailed at an angle to the doorframe. The trailers that people slept in had them, while the others didn’t. The last pin in the lock set, and Friday opened the door.

She felt around in the dark for the pull-chain that would turn on the light, letting the door close behind her. The wood floor creaked under her feet. Her fingers met the chain, finally, but it slipped through several times before Friday managed to get a hold on it. She pulled it, and the trailer lit up.

“What a mess,” she muttered, seeing the stacks of paper on the table and the piles of dirty dishes on the floor. She wasn’t sure what she should be looking for, amid the mismatched chests of drawers, the wood crates, and the clothes and costumes flung over every surface. She walked slowly around the table in the center of the trailer, taking everything in. It was made of heavy, sturdy wood, and took up so much space that there were places where Friday had to turn and side-step just to squeeze through.

Friday almost didn’t notice the bunk beds built into the wall, half-hidden behind a brocade curtain. Friday pulled the curtain aside. The bottom bunk, of all the surfaces in the trailer, had the most costumery piled on. Including shoes. Friday carefully stepped onto the first rung of the ladder. There was an instrument case at the foot of the top bunk, and precarious stacks of books took up half the sleeping space. Friday hadn’t realized that Ezra slept here, too. Judging by the size of the bunk beds, the brothers had been sharing this trailer since they were kids.

Friday sighed softly, and drew the curtain back into place. Val couldn’t have been a better accomplice if the two of them had planned it this way, but Friday had a sour taste in her mouth as she rifled through the papers on the table. She needed to focus. She needed some real proof that Johannes was slimy, but if it was here, it was buried under hand-written receipts for the drums of oatmeal and rice that made up most of the circus’s diet.

Friday tried to read some of the papers, but it was slow going, and none of them seemed to be anything special - not worth the time lost to sound out the words she didn’t know. From her own experience in show business, she recognized the set lists and bookkeeping, and could safely put those aside. The diagrams of how to lay out the different tents and attractions were also self-explanatory. Not everything was in English. Some papers had notes in the margins written in an alphabet she’d never seen before, while some papers were written only in that other language. She half-remembered a conversation where Johannes had told her it wasn’t German.

Friday stepped back from the table, a headache already coming on. She couldn’t read fast enough. Val would have been able to skim through the receipts and lists and find what they needed - if it was even there to find. There was a good chance Johannes knew better than to write personal or sensitive notes in English.

Friday looked around the room, feeling increasingly nervous as the seconds ticked by. She wouldn’t know what she was looking for until she found it, but in that case, where to look? Friday started going through the wooden crates, which were mostly full of costumes that the circus clearly hadn’t found the room to store anywhere else. One crate had a crystal ball in the bottom, and it loudly rolled from one side to the other as Friday dug through the junk surrounding it. This was completely hopeless. Friday stuffed the costumes back into their crates, out of breath.

She should have talked to Enis. If someone had messed with the hitch that connected the trailer to the truck, Enis would have been able to tell her exactly what she was looking for. What type of wrench she would find hidden in Johannes’s pillow, for instance. Friday paused in the middle of picking a leopard-print leotard off the floor. Slowly, she placed the leotard back in its crate before marching back over to the bunk beds and throwing the curtain aside.

Friday checked the pillow. There was no wrench, but as she shook the pillow case, a black leather book fell out and landed between Friday’s feet. Cautiously, as if the little book could bite her, Friday stooped to pick it up.

She flipped through. At first, she wasn’t sure what she was looking at. It wasn’t a journal; the entries had been typeset by machine. Each entry in the book had space for handwritten comments, and Johannes had used the space liberally - in the other alphabet, of course. Friday flipped back and forth through the unusual address book, letters blurring by. It looked like a list of contacts in the various cities the circus performed. She flipped backwards past Rushforth Family Company: R.F. 13. Alabama. If Friday could have read Johannes’s notes, the book might have been worth spending time on.

Friday was about to close the book when a piece of paper fell to the floor. A photograph had worked itself loose from where Johannes had crammed it between two pages. Friday knelt to pick it up.

It was a picture of a young woman, eighteen or nineteen. The camera had caught her in the middle of turning away, but the expression of amusement on her face was clear. She was dressed for the circus in over-elaborate layers of patterned silk, with bangles on her wrists. Her hands were photographed as blurs of motion, as if the girl was caught mid-gesture. But it was an unusual gesture, the girl’s open palm falling away in an arc from the side of her face.

“Johannes!” yelled a voice just outside the trailer, scaring Friday out of her mind. She dropped the photograph and book, and scrambled to pick them both up and return them to Johannes’s pillow.

“We know you’re in there, come play with us,” sing-songed another voice, and the first laughed.

Friday rolled her eyes and stayed low. She listened as they made their circuit of the trailer, tapping obnoxiously on the curtained windows, before they staggered away over the pebbles. It was a good reminder to hurry up. She had to be out before Johannes left the woods, not before he decided to turn in for the night. As soon as Johannes was clear of the trees, he would see his trailer conspicuously lit in the darkness.

It was tempting to take the address book she had just stuffed back into Johannes’s pillow and go. It was the only personal item she had managed to find - the only item that was clearly more important than the rest of the papers left in haphazard stacks. If she only had a few hours to go through it with Val, maybe it would give her some insight into the circus, some clue to the bigger picture. But she doubted the address book contained what Friday really wanted - proof that Johannes had tampered with the trailer hitch. Which meant it wasn’t worth taking the book and risking Johannes finding it missing.

Friday had to go. She’d spent too much time reading receipts for oatmeal, and staying any longer would be really pushing her luck. Friday pulled herself up from the floor, bracing her hand on the table. The table jangled softly.

“Shit,” Friday said. She gripped the edge of the table and gave it a shake, sending papers sliding down all four sides onto the floor. The table jangled again. She didn’t have time for this. She started to feel around the underside of the table, walking around the length twice, hunched over, wasting seconds.

Finally, she felt it. Pushing up on the underside of the table, one little six inch section of wood moved up with her hands. She felt for the trick to open the hidden door, her heart pounding in her ears as she tried to guess how long she’d been in Johannes’s trailer. Half an hour? Forty-five minutes? How much time was he going to spend in the woods with Val?

Finally, Friday found the nail holding the door up. She pushed up on the door so she could push the nail in, freeing the door to fall down on its hinge and spill the compartment’s contents onto the floor. There was a metallic clatter as fistfuls of stolen gold and silver rings hit the floor and rolled in all directions. Friday was already scrambling to pick them all up, swearing to herself, before she’d even registered that something else was sitting on the floor under the table. Friday crawled under, careful of her head, and picked it up.

It was a heavy piece of iron, bent in the shape of an L. It wasn’t any longer than Friday’s finger.

Friday turned it over in her hands.

Wherever it was, Johannes had been hiding it where it clearly didn’t belong. This wasn’t like the black book and the photograph tucked inside. Keeping something in your pillowcase meant it was secret, yes, but secret because it was valuable. This piece of metal wasn’t valuable. It wasn’t a stolen ring that needed to be kept discreet until it could be fenced a couple of towns away. If this nondescript piece of iron was hidden, instead of sitting in plain sight with the costumes, receipts, and crystal balls, that meant something. It would be pretty easy to find out if this thing was what she thought it was.

The longer Friday turned the L-shaped iron over in her hands, the more nervous she felt. She didn’t feel any triumph that she had been right. Val was alone in the woods with Johannes right now.

Friday swallowed. She felt queasy again.

Friday didn’t have any pockets; she slipped the cold metal into her brassiere and set to work on getting the rings back into the secret compartment. When that was done, she rushed to pile the fallen papers back onto the table. She could hear phantom footsteps on the creaky wooden steps that led up to the trailer door as she worked, painfully aware that there was only one door in or out of the trailer. If she took too long, there would be nowhere to go.

Still catching her breath, Friday peered out one of the windows. She didn’t see anyone, though the trailer’s doorstep was tantalizingly just out of sight. She’d have to trust that no one was there.

Friday pulled the chain hanging from the ceiling, and the light went out. She opened the door of the trailer, and casually walked down the steps as if she were supposed to be there. But no one was around. Friday was met by nothing more sinister than the night as she walked further from the fire, toward a different trailer still hitched to its truck.

14.9 || epilogue 14

[smolstrawberrychara]

Klance Au Month - Day 6 - Supernatural

I’m not sure how I got to writing a fluffy kid fic when my initial idea was an estate agent trying to sell a haunted house lmao, but here we go! 

Tiny Little Ghost Hunters

Some kids collect bugs. Keith collects ghosts!

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17683712

Lance swung his legs on the large wooden chair, gulping down the last of his burger. It was warm. And the sun was bright. He’d abandoned his cap ages ago – it made his forehead wet – but that meant his eyes were suffering now. The plates shone like mirrors and he squinted at the picnic table. Didn’t mum say there would be another kid? So why was he stuck here eating with boring adults who talked non-stop about how nice the neighbourhood was and kept asking whether the Kogane’s needed anymore help moving in?

“Lance.” Came a commanding voice beside him. “Eat your tomato.”

“No.” Lance mumbled, folding his arms and frowning down at his knees. Tomatoes were gross. And Veronica was being bossy.

“Lance.” His sister repeated, sending him a glare. “You're being impolite.”

“Don't care.” He said, throwing his head to the side. Who was Veronica to tell him what to do? She was still a kid like him. Five years meant nothing. He hated being the youngest.

There was a growl and then Lance’s arm was yanked violently upwards.

“OW!” He yelped, ripping it back.

“That hurt.” He spat into her face. Then he shuffled to the edge of his seat and pouted down at the grass. “Moronica.”

Veronica let out a harsh gasp. “What did you just say?”

Lance sneered up at her, “I said, Moronica.”

Hah. His sister hated that name. Her nose wrinkled in disgust, anger bright in her eyes. Lance gave a smug wiggle. That’ll show her.

“MOM!”

Argh, she was such a tattle tale.

“Lance is calling me names!”

“Hey! She-!” Lance cried but was quickly interrupted.

“Lance.” His mother snapped, piercing him to the spot with a glare. “Be nice to your sister.”

Lance sank into his shoulders as he waited for the woman to turn back to her conversation. As soon as she did, he shot back to Moronica, tongue out in the universal sign of defiance. Veronica seethed. Before Lance could even flinch, her arm flew out like a whip and his skin screamed as it got caught in a pinch. Lance squeaked, wriggling to the edge of his chair and away from the demon. Sisters were the worst. He hated family barbecues.

Rubbing his arm, Lance looked around the foreign garden. The grass was yellowed, dandelions popping out in random places and there were those sharp weeds that attacked Lance’s feet like bear traps everywhere. He frowned. It was like this whole place was designed to offend him. Lance leaned out further, peering behind him. There were dark green bushes sat around in patches, masking the exposed soil surrounding an apple tree. And underneath it was a boy. He had plasters on his knees, a cut on his face and a red jumper tied around his shoulders like a cape. He was sneaking. Lance could tell by the way his knees were bent close to the ground as he crept forward.

Lance hopped down from his chair.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, peering over his shoulder.

The boy jumped. Whipping around, he threw dark wide eyes at Lance before shoving a sticky palm over his mouth.

“SHUSH!” He half shouted before turning back, leaving his hand there. Lance craned his neck to follow the gaze but the boy didn’t let up. “You’ll scare it away.”

A mess of black hair was blocking Lance’s view and he shook his legs impatiently. What would he scare away? He wanted to push the kid down to see. But if he was telling the truth then Lance might miss whatever the thing was. He decided it best to play along and nodded against the palm. The boy finally released his face and began unscrewing the lid of a large jam jar Lance hadn’t noticed he’d been clutching. Then he turned around, bent his knees, tightened his face in concentration and, like a cat, he leapt forward.

“A-ha!” He yelled, throwing the jar to the dirt. He scooped the lid against the soil, lifting it up to the sound of gravel scattering. Then he turned around, grinning widely. “LOOK!”

Lance gasped. Inside the glass was an orb. A large white circle with a wispy tail – like smoke from a birthday candle. It hit the edges of the jar with sharp clinks and seemed to have shiny black eyes like pebbles freshly born from the sea. Lance pressed his face to the window.

“Woah.” He breathed, steaming up the glass. “What is it?”

“Ghos!” The boy announced proudly, “think it was a moth.”

The ghost of a moth? Lance stared in awe, squishing his nose against the surface. Then the jar pushed hard against him and he found the other boy’s eyes on his, warped like a fish’s. “Wanna see more?”

More? Excitement rushed through Lance like a tidal wave. “Yeah!”

The boy sprang back. Then the coolness was ripped from Lance’s face and the jar getting tucked carefully under a chubby arm. Lance’s hand was caught by another and he was grinning again. “COME ON!”

Then he was running. Cutting straight across the grass, he fell after the boy, arm straining against its socket.

“Keith, honey-”

“Sorry mom, can’t talk. Busy.”

Lance felt his cheeks tighten as the boy, Keith, refused to stop. He tucked his face into his collar, trying to hide the giggles. His heart was racing by the time they hit the back door. Keith let him go to tug at the thick plastic handle and heave it aside. Then his hand was smothered in heat once again and Lance being pulled inside.

The two ran past the looming kitchen counters, ducked under the wooden dining table and whooshed past the cardboard boxes piled high in the lounge. Keith pulled open another door at the end of the hall and suddenly they were plunged into darkness. Lance found himself clattering down hollow steps that creaked with every foot. He clung to Keith’s arm, slowing suddenly. He didn’t like the dark. Or stairs. He held Keith’s arm for support as he carefully began climbing down, scared his foot would fall between the wooden slats. Keith fidgeted ahead of him, jumping down the steps one at a time and bouncing on his toes whilst he waited for Lance to join him. It threw him a little off balance, but Lance refused to let go. He didn’t want to lose his chance at seeing more ghosts. When they eventually got to the bottom, Keith rushed them around the corner. Lance’s breath left his lungs as he caught sight of why. He dropped his arms, jaw falling slack.

In front of him, was a glowing wall full of ghosts. Haphazard shelfs made from broken slices of wood and large pointed nails held up hundreds of jars and bottles filled with the same tadpole-like creatures as they’d found in the garden. Some spun like tornadoes, whipping silver against their tops, whereas others were like fish bobbing in their tanks, softly glowing like lava lamps.

Keith crawled up on the stool in front of the desk, carefully placing his latest find on the table top. Then he tugged over a thick book and flipped over the heavy cover with a thud. Lance wrapped his fingers around the table ledge and pulled himself up, tiptoeing to see the pages. The corners were wrinkled, tears and creases lining the paper. But Lance was too distracted by the content to mind. He let out a gasp as he found each page covered in sketches of the creatures on the shelves, all painted in delicate watercolours. Thick inked writing titled each page and little notes surrounded the pictures like diagrams in a science book.

“Classification.” Keith explained, sliding a smaller notebook out from under a mess of rustling papers. He grabbed a crayon from a pot and stuck a finger to the page.

“This one. Moth.” He said, flicking through the jotter. “Can tell by the genie tail.”

Lance nodded, peering between the book and the rooms latest addition. It did bounce off the glass like how a moth bounced off a lampshade. Keith’s crayon began earnestly scraping against paper, and Lance scooted over to watch. His tongue slipped out of his mouth as he drew letters, writing the date, location and type. Then he looked at Lance.

“What d’ya wanna call it?”

Lance blinked, pointing to his chest. “Me? Name it?”

The boy nodded and Lance sucked in a breath. He got to name the ghost? That was a big responsibility. And a great honour. Pride swelled in Lance’s lungs as he accepted. Wracking his brain for a suitable candidate, he chewed on his thumb, brows furrowing to the point he was sure he could see them. He needed to get this right. And after a moment of painful deliberation, Lance reached an answer.

“Lance two!” He cried. “Because I’m Lance too!”

Keith grinned, eagerly adding the information to his log book. “Perfect.”

Then he looked back up at the shelves above. “You wanna choose a spot for Lance two?”

He got to choose a place for him to live too? Lance couldn’t contain his excitement, bouncing eagerly on the spot. Keith shuffled over on the stool and helped him up. Then they both crawled onto the table to stare up at the jars. There were so many. Some contained single clouds, others multiple dandelion clocks that spun around each other in a game of chase. Keith must have been collecting for years. Lance breathed in awe as he tried to find space. Then his eyes landed on the perfect spot. Three shelves up, there was a blue plastic bottle, containing a long spindly ghost that resembled an eel. A couple of dried flowers fell on the wood next to it and there was a decent gap between it and the next jar which contained a pearly coloured, jelly-fish type.

“Got it.” He announced, pointing to the space. Keith gave him a nod of approval before passing the jar containing Lance two over. Lance took it in both hands, taking a steadying breath. Okay Lance Two, he thought, time to meet your new home. Then he reached up. The jar clattered against the shelf below. Lance wasn’t quite tall enough. He stepped back with a huff, glaring at the wood. It was not going to win today. So, he stretched up to his limit once again, grabbing onto the shelf for balance. Attempting to haul himself up, he didn’t quite get the boost he’d hoped for. Instead, the wood flipped upwards.

Lance stumbled back with a yelp. The world tumbled around him, shining objects flying. The sound of shattering glass filled the room as white wisps tore through the air above him like shooting stars. He let out a screech. The ghosts! They were escaping!

Lance scrambled to sit back up. Above him, the shelf was empty. The desk around him was covered in tiny shards like diamonds. And most importantly, there were no whooshy wisps. Lance felt his eyes turn into pools. He looked to Keith who stared back open mouthed. Lance’s eyes overflowed. His throat felt tight and he let out a sob, burying himself in his hands. He’d let the ghosts escape.

“Are you okay?” Keith asked, carefully tiptoeing closer. “You want me to get my dad? He’s a firefighter ya know.”

Lance shook his head, scraping at his cheeks.

“m’not hurt.” He said, hiccupping as the emotion jumped up his throat. “It’s just- all your hard work.”

The tears spilled once again, and he was sobbing hard into his palms. Keith’s beautiful collection. He’d ruined it.

“It’s okay.” Keith said, landing at his side. He reached out to pat Lance’s arm and Lance finally looked up.

“It’s okay?” He asked, shoving his sleeve against his nose and staring up at the boy’s dark features.

“Mmhmm.” Keith hummed, giving him an encouraging smile. “We can just start again.”

Lance blinked against the tears, watching as Keith reached his hand out. “Together.”

Lance felt is cheeks pinch near painfully. Together. They could collect them together. He rubbed his knuckle against his eye one last time, relief flushing out the tears. Then he took Keith’s hand, squeezing the warmth as he got to his feet.

“Together.”

[esonikofanfiction]

K: TALES OF MIDNIGHT: CHAPTER I: SASHIMI  || pt. I

Saruhiko Fushimi trekked his way through back-door alleyways and near-deserted pockets only frequented by shady under-dwellers and the occasional stray cat. The bustle of ordinary life come street-side in Shizume was too burdensome, mostly for the noise, but also for the work Fushimi did. It wasn't the type that rivaled afternoon strolls, business liaisons, lovers' dates, or errands to the supermarket, nor would he have looked the part besides. What he was doing, and where he was headed, he required the long saber of Scepter 4 strapped around his waist. 

It was warm. The sun was on the verge of dipping down beneath the littered glass formations rising over lesser, not-so-grand, though equally encroaching structures he wove in and out of like a rat. 

It had recently rained, which would have seemed a pleasant deter from the heat of summer’s final remnants dwindling into fall, though it only served to make the day wetter, the air muggier, and the orangish glare from the setting sun bounce more profoundly off the mirrored surfaces created by the downpour. 

Fushimi had had the misfortune of finding himself caught in the storm not twenty minutes past with nothing but a narrow awning shielding him from soaking up the water like a sponge. Now slightly damp and smelling like whatever mildew lingered in the greyed and battered alcove of what he assumed to be the backside of a kitchen serving soba, he slid a finger up the bridge of his nose, straightening his rims, and turned down an adjacent alley, only to come grinding to a halt on locking eyes with a tawny-marred degenerate less fortunately swamped. Its hair was wet in filthy clumps and standing straight on edge; it’s angled pupils rounded with alarm. On sighting him careening down the lane, it stiffened on all fours, hissed through what appeared to be the remnants of a fishbone, bore its fangs at him, and briskly scampered off.

Fushimi clicked his tongue disgustedly and ventured on another couple blocks, past rows of identically rancid-smelling dumpsters made all the more wretched when soaked, and finally to a metal door seemingly the same as every other, only this one bore a semi-high-tech panel just above the handle: one that called for a numeric passcode as well as biometric retinal and finger scans. While clearly fashioned as a warning unto others, this obstruction seemed far less of a disturbance and more of an incentive to continue, and Fushimi narrowed in, setting instantly to work. 

He shoved a hand inside his pocket, drawing out a slender metal box akin to a cigarette case. Opening it, he retrieved a piece of tech the size of a Scepter 4 button, which he set atop the panel. 

Next, he leveled his forearm to the panel itself, typing away at the buttons on his wrist device. A small holographic screen appeared and scanned the pad, locking in the signal. The corresponding LED screen lit up instantly, spasmodically displaying rows of numbers until the password was acquired.

After, having set the metal box between his teeth, Fushimi dove inside it once again for a thin slice of silicone, which he formed across his finger, then the scanner. A light beep in the affirmative confirmed the match and he scraped the rubbery glove back into the box. 

Lastly, he reached up and clicked a micro-button on his rims. A clear white light along his lenses flashed up once, then zoomed back down, changing the hue of his eyes from blue to hazel green. He leaned in close and looked into the scanner. A horizontal line of LED green shot out, whizzing up and down his optical features, issuing a final beep as the door unlocked, and he slid inside. 

It was dark, less stuffy than outside, but cool at least. 

Silently, he slithered through the basement, past the lobby on the ground floor, and onward to the first — a vast grey landscape littered with a maze of cubicles, side-offices, and a conference room: your standard office space, empty and deserted on the weekend; yet Fushimi knew better. It was why he came there in the first place — to the Susanoo Trade Building; more importantly, the location of the stolen Kawaguchi Algorithm. It had taken him weeks to track it down, and even though he’d found it, he knew it wouldn't stay in one place very long — certainly not out in the open in the center of the city. Maybe that was the idea, he had thought. Hide it in plain sight. Strolling down a narrow makeshift walkway in between the cubicles, he huffed with annoyance. "Or don't bother hiding it at all," he said aloud. "What a pain." Such an obvious ploy, if true, meant only one thing: he wasn't alone. This, he had come to realize; in fact, he’d counted on it, which is why, ducking hard beneath a nearby cubicle, he escaped a sudden aura-less blast that zoomed across the room, sweeping white and yellow streaks atop the hazy shadows of the dark. 

A zapping boom erupted, sending papers flying through the air. The computer at the desk above him ruptured in a surge of wire and plastic, the upper portion of the cubicle dismantled in a sea of smoldering pieces from what neither was a bomb, nor a bullet, but the result of an electro-current issued from an arm blaster, its discharge resembling that of an exploding power line.

"You've got to be kidding me!“ he grumbled, slamming up against the cube's dilapidated wall. Clenching irritably, he dipped his head against the bristly felt, blinked once against the ceiling, and dove into a roll across the floor. 

Another blast ensued, rushed and frenzied by his onslaught, and missed him altogether as he rose fist-first to smash the face of his opponent. The man fell in a heap of cheap metal armor to the floor. 

Fushimi sighed, twisting out a kink in his neck. “Idiot.” 

Kneeling down, he drew a set of braces from his pocket, snatching flaccid arms and spinning them around, cuffing them together. "So that's how it's going to be,” he said, rising. 

And so it was. With every room he came to on his spiraled track from first to second floors, from third to fourth, and onward to the fifth, he was met in equal likeness with another clunky foe, each one more moronic than the last, and all without a lick of supernatural power. This observation, given the nature of his occupation and the severity of his mission, Fushimi found peculiar, yet it was nowhere near as puzzling as it was frustratingly time-consuming, until finally, having punched his way through every minor muscle man and every wave of harmless static bolts propelled against him, he found what he was looking for. 

In the eleventh floor data storage room, dark but for the dim electric glow emitted from rows of blinking storage racks, Fushimi caught the vague, illuminated features of a woman scanning neon columns of encryption on a laptop in the corner by the door. 

Fushimi grasped the saber at his waist, issuing the Scepter 4 emergency draw command. The sword unlocked itself and the steady 'shink' of its release produced the blade itself, its silver tip ignited with a gleam as he advanced into the room. 

"I wouldn't do that," said the woman, still eyeing the screen. Before he had a chance to say a word, Fushimi found the meaning of her warning as he drew another step — directly onto an electrical pad that stunned him to the floor. The woman pursed her lips. "Told ya." 

Forcing dissolution from his eyes, Fushimi grunted more in anger than in pain and fumbled through his pockets, digging out a tiny metal orb no larger than racquet ball. He ran it over gently in his palm, fingering a button on its side. With the faint contortions of a grin, he clicked it and the orb lit with a start, letting out a rhythmic beeping chime that quickened, growing louder as he rolled it in a hollow clink across the floor. "Overconfidence," he scoffed. "Just shows how stupid you are." 

The woman chuckled, peering up at last. She looked at him, her gaze an eerie shadow in the dark. A spark of light ignited in her eyes. Her focus realigned itself and centered on the orb, its flashing signal ‘tink, tink, tinking’ toward her and she beamed, grinning wide with a guffaw before slapping her computer shut and bolting out the door the moment of the blast. 

Amidst the ringing uproar in his ears, Fushimi heard a muffled cry and quickly gained his feet, screeching his slick heels atop linoleum tiles and the ruptured remains of her laptop strewn across floor, all the while waving and coughing over acid-smelling smoke and flying pieces of debris. 

He catapulted out into the hall, and, swinging side to side, discerned the metal clack of a door slamming down the western corridor. 

A few steps later he was at the door, sending up a momentary glance at the plague beside it, equipped with a mumbled, "What the — ?" before bounding through it. "The hell are you playing at?" He whispered between panting breaths up the stairs, two, three steps at a time. "Or are you really that brainless?" 

He could hear the clicking footsteps of her flight along the upper storeys; leaning past the railing, he could see dark wisps of clothing as she zipped around the corners. 

Saber firm in hand, he hastened his pursuit, bursting moments later out onto the graveled surface of the roof.  

The red and yellow coruscance of present-creeping dusk struck him in a sudden blinding headache, and the clash against the humid layer thickening the air was nearly suffocating, though he hardly had the time to bask in the discomfort that it brought. With his first skidding step out the door, a force as that of a hurricane of culminating thunderclaps arrayed with lightning bolts came shooting through the air. 

Whether by his skill or acting on an impulse, he resisted the advance, brandishing his saber in an instant swipe before him, the ice-blue barrier of Scepter 4 protecting him from harm — or so he thought. He jolted at the impact, sliding crudely backward with a curse, digging his heels into the loose layer of pebbles in an effort to sustain the wall of supernatural fumes that towered overhead like the emergence of a sandstorm in the dark.

It was an aura: that, he knew full well, however this was far more potent, explosive, dangerous. While his produced a steady wave of blue, what tempest wailed before his eyes was dark like blackened pillars of destruction, wild, unpredictable, pervaded by a labyrinth of convulsive sparks that whizzed out one-by-one to pierce his shield and strike his every side. 

He toughened in a grimace, a line of sweat appearing on his temples as he watched the wall erupt in one high-voltage boom that dove into a crash atop his sword. The hell! He roared internally, feeling the vibration suck him upward as the aura rose again, billowing to fill the sky and mask what little light resisted night's approach. 

The dark had all but wrapped itself around him, forcing him inside, twisting ever upward in a raging, fuming vortex, plummeting again with the insurmountable force of a hammer that dropped him to his knees.

He hollered out in pain and sudden tightness, tainted yet untouched. The blow had struck him from within. His aura reached its pinnacle. His body felt the strain. It could not take the weight but rather urged him to implode, his force of power fumbling away. I'm not strong enough for this! He realized. 

The roaring thunder boomed, a squall of coal-like power gushing in his ears. Clenching hard, he set a second hand along his hilt. Still, the aura bore his to the ground. Nearly, he was at his end. He began to sense the last of his aura dwindling into trenchant nonexistence. 

Broken from the world outside, unable to escape, his consciousness cascaded into hazy, blotted scenes parading round his eyes; then all gave way and flew apart, unhanding him at once. 

The yellowed afterglow revealed itself; the air that weighed him down before felt light against his skin. 

The torrid blast dispersed itself and faded with the breeze, prevailing in the midst, the woman standing placidly before him, unmarred, unscathed, and perfectly at ease. By way of tepid streams, the final wisps of ashen power swept her long black waves across her face and the hem of her open trench coat in a flap against her knees. 

Residing in her grasp, a silver-sheened rapier was drawn and resting at her side. Her gaze, as like the rest of her, was dark, focused like a serpent on Fushimi.

(Next Up // Chapter I: Sashimi, pt. II)

(K:Tales of Midnight is an Eso Niko Fan Fiction series based on the anime/manga series K, written by GoRa and produced by GoHands. All fan fiction works written by Eso Niko are categorized as ‘unofficial fan fiction,’ and are in no way affiliated to GoRa and GoHands.)

[zenxenophilia]

Merformer Swerve Fic

(This was originally going to be part of a request, however it quickly turned out to be much longer than I had originally planned so now it’s its own thing lol.  XD  I may or may not continue it as a mer Swerve/Reader series depending on how much time I have and if anyone is interested.  Please let me know what you think.)

You knew you had made a huge mistake the second you laid eyes on the ramshackle cabin that looked as though any moment it could slide into the frigid, grey waters of the lake beside it.  The wood was warped and weather beaten from what was possibly a hundred years worth of winter storms.  The stonework chimney leaned precariously to one side and was bent at an odd angle, making it look like something out of a cartoon than any functional appliance. And the vintage wooden blinds hanging in nearly all of the windows appeared to have numerous missing slats, like a grinning mouth with missing teeth.  

 You grimaced as you set your travel worn suitcase inside and surveyed your surroundings.  You were slightly surprised at how clean the place looked, (despite the hideously retro décor) having expected nothing short of a century’s worth of cobwebs, and possibly even the grinning remains of the last poor soul that had been fed the same spiel about the idyllic lakeside retreat from a crumpled travel brochure.

You wished now that you had decided to spend your winter break in Hawaii, or Fiji, or anyplace with sun really, rather than this dreary, rainy town in the middle of nowhere and its giant, mist covered lake that looked more at home in a Silent Hill game than out in the real world.  

 But the place had looked so inviting in the brochure that had been coincidentally slipped into your mailbox last week.  It had promised cozy accommodations, friendly people, pristine lake water, and above all, peace and quiet.  The last part had been your deciding factor.  You refused to spend another precious break away from university surrounded by shrieking children, wall to wall traffic, and rude tourists. This time, you had promised yourself, you were going to treat yourself to a real vacation.  Just you and the quiet beauty of your natural surroundings. Now however, gazing out over the misty waters that perfectly reflected the sunless, grey sky you felt a chill creep down your spine that had nothing to do with the dry, winter air.  Gazing out of the kitchen windows, you found yourself transfixed by the mirror-like water.  You couldn’t explain why, but you got the eerie, unexplained feeling that someone (or something) was watching you).

 With a scoff you closed the blinds and began dragging your suitcase to the bedroom to unpack.  You were just letting the townsfolk’s silly fairytales get to you you told yourself with a huff as you kicked off your muddy boots and tossed them into the tiny adjoining closet.  

 The residents of the secluded town of Caliban were what you’d call somewhat eccentric, you supposed, though you had a few other words in mind.  Most of the two hundred or so people living there were at least fifth or six generation; a few of them even had ancestors that had founded the tiny fishing village.  They were exactly the kind of people one would picture living in a cozy, secluded, lakeside town; warm, friendly, quiet, heavily steeped in tradition, and more than a little superstitious.  

 Chief among these local urban legends was the idea that there strange, mermaid like creatures that lived in the surrounding lake.  These creatures, they claimed, were fond of humans and had been protecting the sleepy little village and its inhabitants from boating accidents and drowning for generations.  The locals held nearly an obsessive amount of pride for their mysterious, underwater guardians.  People would set out plates of food for them on the end of their docks as an offering, oohing and awing the next morning when the food would be eaten by what was probably nothing more supernatural than a nosy raccoon.  And images of the odd, manatee-like beings decorated nearly every store front and sign in town like some sort of bizarre town mascot.

 The local pub especially had an affinity for the ‘mers’ as the locals called them.  Fishermen would gather in their aging leather booths and swap stories (over mer themed drink specials) about their encounters with their aquatic friends.  Just about every person in town had a personal experience with these creatures, including the town sheriff.  

 Charlie Burns was warm, soft-spoken, practical man that had a rare gift for commanding the respect and attention of anyone in the room without ever really trying, and you were no exception when he had come over to give you a friendly introduction and welcome you to the town on your first day.  You had listened with rapt attention when he had let you in on the town’s worst kept secret, regaling you with his own stories of the playful beings stealing a fish from his line or splashing him while enjoying a peaceful canoe ride.

 “They’re a mischievous lot, but they don’t mean any harm,” he had said before reaching into his jacket pocket to produce a crisp white card, embellished with the official sheriff’s office logo.  “This is a pretty quiet town, (y/n).  Not much happens here in the way of crime, but if you ever find yourself in any trouble during your stay, you give me a call at the office, alright?”

A few uneventful days in the dreary little town however had pushed Sheriff Burns’ conversation out of your mind.  In fact, the most eventful thing that had happened so far this week was going to the store to pick up some groceries for dinner.  The grey clouds blocking the sun seemed to gather even more thickly, as if in response to your already bleak mood.  You shifted the brown paper bag in your hands and pulled your jacket tighter around your chest, trying in vain to keep out the winter chill. Your worn walking boots crunched loudly on the gravel walkway up to your cabin on the far edge of town, breaking the eerie quiet of the surrounding woods.

 Something out of the corner of your eye made you pause however before turning your key in the door.  You squinted against the harsh, bright grey haze towards the broken down wooden steps leading down to the pebbled shore of the lake.  As your eyes adjusted to the glare, you noticed that someone appeared to be sitting in the warped wooden deck chair nestled neatly at the very edge of the lake.

 Your breath hitched in your throat as your mind raced with images of intruders and serial killers and every scary movie about secluded cabins in the woods ever made.  After a few deep breaths however, you realized the most likely scenario was that one of the local kids had decided to sneak over to the normally empty cabin and enjoy a little winter sunbathing.  Shaking your head in dismay at your own overactive imagination, you began crunching your way down the lake shore to shoo away your unwanted visitor.

 However, as you reached the top of the rickety stairs, you noticed that the figure slumped in the deck chair had a distinctly inhuman outline.  A thick, blubbery tail hung loosely over the edge of the chair and draped lazily over the dark sand.  At first you thought that maybe some teenagers had played a sick joke on the new visitor by placing a dead manatee in your chair, until you notice the short, stubby, humanlike fingers curled over one of the armrests.  

 Your breath hitched in your throat as you approached for a closer look.  It was about the size and shape of a manatee, but decidedly human (or at least semi-human) shaped from the middle up.  Splotches of red covered the rubbery looking white body in abstract shapes, getting darker and more solid as they rounded the back of its head and along the tips of tiny clawed hands.  It was lying so still, you would have thought it was dead if not for the faint rising and falling of its chest as it dozed peacefully in cloud covered sun.  One hand lazily draped over the thing’s face in an attempt to block out the blindingly grey haze of the chilly winter morning.

 For a brief, mind numbing moment your entire brain stopped working.  All you could do was gape in shock at the creature sprawled out over the deck chair.  Years of fantasy novels and fairytales came flooding back to you like a torrent while all the while one word circled through your brain on repeat, screeching its implausible truth with the force of a fog horn.

 Mer.

 The thing in the chair let out a loud, snuffling snore, snapping you out of your chaotic reasonings.  You stared in abject disbelief as it shifted slightly in its sleep like a dog dreaming of catching a rabbit.  For some unexplainable reason, rather than fear, or awe, or any other million emotions that the fairytale books you had read as a kid would deem acceptable for this sort of situation, all you felt after the initial shock wore off was annoyance. Annoyance at the creature commandeering your backyard furniture like he had some sort of god given right to be there.

 This was your cabin (if only for a few weeks).  And no stranger, human or otherwise, was going to just sprawl themselves on your deck chair, particularly after you’ve had such a busy morning.  You had earned that chair, darn it.  Even if the thought of sitting outside after having to walk back from the store in the cold was the farthest thing from your mind two minutes ago, the fact that this creature was robbing you of the option irritated you to no end.

You gently, but firmly prodded one of the wooden legs of the chair with your boot, careful not to kick… whatever it was that was occupying it.  You jumped back slightly, not knowing how the thing would react to being woken.  The creature, rather than bolting upright like you had expected, slowly drew away the arm covering its startlingly blue eyes to peer at you with what you can only describe as lazy expectancy.  As if it was waiting for you to say whatever it was that you needed to, so it could finish its nap in peace.  For some reason this thought made you even angrier than before.

 Before you could say or do anything however (not that you would have had the slightest idea of how to proceed) the creature’s gaze fell upon the brown paper bag grocery bag in your arms, the contents of your latest purchase sticking tantalizingly out of the top.  Its eyes sparkled like a kid on Christmas morning and it turned to grin up at you in eagerness.  You gasped and nearly dropped the bag, a few fresh apples spilling out and rolling over the rocky beach.  The thing’s mouth was filled with small pointed teeth, similar to a dolphin’s, each one clamping against one another in the universal sign for hunger.  

 The sight is so startlingly unexpected that you momentarily forgot your anger. The thing (even now you hesitated to use the “m” word) reached down to retrieve one of the apples that had come to rest against the leg of the deck chair, its thick, purple tongue licking over the lipless mouth in glee.  You stared transfixed as it turned the apple over in its webbed hands, almost reverently, before biting into it with that hellish mouth, the juice dripping from its jaws as devoured the fruit in a matter of seconds, core and all.

 It licked the juice off its fingers, savoring every last drop.  The thing then turned back to you with a toothy grin that nearly turned your stomach and held out one of its hands, making a childlike grabbing gesture towards the bag.  You clutch your grocery bag to your chest on bolted back inside your cabin, with a potent combination of fear, confusion, wonder, and disbelief all bouncing around your brain, as if trying to figure out which to deal with first.  You slammed the door and bolted it, pressing against it with your back and releasing the pent of breath you didn’t even know you were holding.  

 You clutched at your temples, trying desperately to reconcile the thing on your deck chair with years of schooling, common sense, and the laws of nature in general.  You dared to sneak a peek through the thin wooden blinds along your kitchen window, not sure if it would be better or worse for that thing to still be there. It still was, to your mixture of relief and dismay.  The proof of your unbelievable tale was still sunning itself on your deck chair for all to see, its chubby tail smacking the grainy sand as it strained to reach one of the fallen apples just beyond its reach, unable, or simply unwilling to leave the comfort of the warped, wooden recliner.  You had to admit, were you not having to reevaluate your world view at the moment, you might have found the sight humorous.

 Instead, you felt that earlier sense of annoyance creeping its way back in, tinged with a small amount of embarrassment.  That thing had not only stolen your deck chair, but now it was actually eating your food.  The food that you had personally gone out and bought with your own money for your own enjoyment.  Not only that, but here you were (you hesitated to use the word cowering, but) cowering in your own vacation home, while that Abe Sapien wannabe was lounging about without a care in the world like he owned the bloody place.  Gritting your teeth in aggravation, you reached for the archaic landline phone and called the only person you coul think of.

 “Hello.  Sherriff’s office,” the calm voice from the other line crackled through the receiver. You could hear the rustle of papers being filed on the other line.

 Hello.  Sherriff Burns?” you muttered, nervously twirling the now hopelessly wrinkled business card between your fingers.  You never thought you would actually have a reason to use it before now.  “This is (y/n).  Remember?  From the other day?  I’m calling about a…  I mean, there’s this…  I don’t really know what you’d call it.  I’m-“

 “(Y/n)?  What’s wrong? Are you in some kind of trouble?” Sherriff Burns asked with a slight hint of alarm in his voice.  

 “No. Not now, I’m not.  I mean, I’m inside right now, but there’s this… thing on my deck chair outside.  And I thought it was a manatee at first, only it wasn’t a manatee, it’s this weird red and white fish monster thing, and I tried to get it to move only it didn’t, and then it ate my groceries, and now it’s-“

 Sherriff Burns’ chuckle sounded over the receiver.  “That’s just Swerve,” he said, the relief evident in his voice. “You don’t need to worry about him. He’s a bit of a glutton, but he’d never hurt anybody.”

 “Swerve?  What’s a swerve?  What is that?” you babble, the questions pouring out of you like a waterfall.

 “Not what.  Who,” Sherriff Burns corrected.  “Swerve’s been a staple of our little town as long as I can remember.  He’s the most personable of all the mers around here. Curious guy.  Always poking his head out to see what people are up to.”

 “Mers…”  The word seems to stick in your mouth, incomprehensible and alien.

 “I take it you’re not the type of person to listen to a bunch of local fisherman’s tales,” the sheriff said, not unkindly.  “I don’t blame you.  I didn’t believe in the mers until I saw one with my own eyes.  You should count yourself lucky.  Most strangers that come here never get to see a mer for themselves.”

 “Okay, so, how do I get rid of it- him?  Do I call animal control, or…?” you asked, taking another peep through the blinds. The creature – Swerve – had apparently successfully retrieved the fallen fruit and was munching on it happily in the sagging deck chair, his thick tail slapping happily against the beach.  You scowled.

 “Just leave him be.  He’ll move on his own,” Sheriff Burns replied.  “He probably thought that your cabin was vacant and saw an opportunity for a little sunbathing.  He’ll probably leave you alone from now on now that he knows someone’s up there.”

 “And if he doesn’t?” you prodded, watching as Swerve stretched his arms over his head in an exaggeratedly lazy yawn before settling back down for a nap.

 “Sorry, (y/n), I’ve got another call coming in.  I’ve got to go.  Give me a call if you have any more trouble.”

 “No wait-“ you cried, before hearing the click of the other line and the mocking drone of a dial tone.  You cursed under your breath and glared out the window at the creature who had commandeered both your morning and your lawn furniture.  It sprawled itself out against the aging wooden chair as if mocking your frustrations.  

 Your scowl deepened.  You growled, slamming your now soggy bag of melting groceries on the counter and began throwing things in the rickety, single door refrigerator that looked like something out of the 70s.  You made a concentrated effort not to look out the window as you struggled with the broken produce drawers, muttering darkly to yourself the whole time about stupid mermaids, and townsfolk, and appliances from hell.  

 When you finally gave into the urge to check out the window again, the thing was gone, leaving nothing in its wake but a heavy, dragging trail through the sand leading down into the water.  You allowed yourself a small sigh of relief, but for some reason couldn’t shake the feeling that you hadn’t seen the last of the little apple thieving menace.  You ran a hand through your hair, watching the muted, grey sunlight play gently over the deceptively still water.  You were really starting to regret not spending the winter break in Hawaii instead.

[egoiistas]

Last of Us

affectionately titled: fungus among us – for Rilie. 

A/N: Last Sunday I sat down and wrote 3600 words of this Last of Us AU. It’s a companion fic to @wrongnote‘s Edween fic Forsaken! Also, playing the game is not necessary to reading this fic. 

I really couldn’t pass up some Parental Royai for Ed. 

Warnings~ Major Character Death. Expect zombies and the usual gore that comes with that.  Rated: M || Words: 3,703

Roy breathed in, opening his eyes to the dark of the room. It had been light when he shut them. Remnants of a dream clung to the edges of his mind before he gathered full lucidity. Something bright. Something vibrant.

Groaning, he lifted himself to a sit.

“You mumble in your sleep, you know.” Edward sat against the wall, knees propping up his arms.

He ignored the kid. What a mess, Roy thought with a run of his hand down his face. The entire day had been a mess. Riza’s run in with Hakuro’s men. Confronting Hakuro himself.  He rubbed his neck from the uncomfortable and moldy couch. And now this, Izumi having the audacity to ask him to smuggle the kid out to the Capitol building. Not impossible, but he had better ideas of how to spend his time that were less dangerous and more practical. There were too many variables and Roy had enough experience to not trust jobs that involved high risks with the scars to prove them. “How long have I been out?”

“A couple of hours.” The boy stood, stretching upwards and crossing his arms. “When will we get to leave?”

Roy glared at him. He opened his mouth to speak but the door opened and Riza entered in a hurry.

“You ready to go?”

Roy stood, grabbing his backpack by the straps. “Did she have the guns?”

She nodded and canted her hips to the side, her hands situated on them like she did when her patience was beginning to chip. “Yes, plenty of it.”

“How’s Izumi?” Edward came up close. “Is she going to be okay?”

“She’s fine. They were ready to patch up Queen Firefly as soon as she got there,” Riza muttered. “We’ve got rain, so try not to stumble this time.”

He fought the urge to smile – she would never let that go. “Shut up and help me move this,” he deadpanned.

The tunnels under the wall was short. They smelled of stagnant water that splashed at their and death from the unlucky, decaying bodies.

“You must be the kid of someone really important for all this trouble to get you out of here.” He heard Riza start up, quite unlike her.

“Something like that.”

When they finally emerged on the other side, he felt that he could breathe again, but the electricity in the air put him on edge.

They clambered over the incline of a decayed bus to exit at the other end.

He was stopped abruptly when military officers ambushed them.

“On your knees, hands on your head.”

Fuck.

“Getting real tired of this.”

“We’ve got a few stragglers approximately 2 miles southeast of the Fotest Gate.”

“If you look away, we can make this worth your while,” Riza suggested. It wouldn’t be the first time they would encounter crooked officers.

Unfortunately for them, the helmeted officer kicked the bottom of her boots and ordered her to shut up.

“Clean.”

The radio spoke back. “Copy that. Sending backup your way.”

It scanned him. It beeped. “Clean.”

“Honestly,  I don’t understand why-”

The male officer stopped abruptly as he crumbled to the floor. He held his leg. “What the fuck!” Roy reacted out the years where it came down to his life or theirs. And he always chose his. He drew out his pistol and shot cleanly at the officer’s head and the second shot, fired by Riza, downed the other officer.

“Oh - Holy shit.” The blond exclaimed, kicking his feet back on the ground until he hit something solid behind him. “I-I-I just thought we were going to knock them out or something. I didn’t know we were going to take them out!”

Riza laughed. At first, Roy thought it was because of the boy’s naivete. He realized soon enough she was staring at the scanner. She walked over briskly, shaking her head in disbelief. “Tell me why the fuck we are smuggling an infected kid?” She pushed it into his hands.

The rain kept falling on the screen of the scanner faster than he could wipe it. The words “INFECTED”, however, blinked red and clear. Roy scowled, walking over to the boy.

“I can explain!”

He turned to Riza. “Why would Izumi set us up?”

Before she could answer, the boy interjected. “She’s not trying to set you up! What reason would she have to do that?” Edward pulled back his sleeve; his arm indented by two crescent shaped disfigurations. Bite marks, he realized, made by an animal  or, more likely, an infected human. The skin grotesquely bubbled around it.

“I don’t care how you got infected,” Roy growled.

“It’s three weeks old.”

“Everyone knows the Cordyceps incubate in less than two days,” Riza stepped in.

“It’s three weeks!” His eyebrows narrowed angrily,  jaw clenched with tenacity. He repeated, “Why would she set you up?”

“Maybe we should take him back,” Riza leaned in to tell him. “Let him be Izumi’s problem.”

Roy glanced at Riza and then back to the kid. “What was the plan? Who’s waiting at the Capitol building?”

Edward stood, sliding his sleeve over the mark. “Izumi thinks that a cure can be created. They have other bases out near the borders. But she needs me to make it there.”

Roy scoffed, “We’ve heard this before. Always the same thing. Always near the cure. Guess what. It’s been fifteen years and in those fifteen years, nothing has happened.”  

“Look, I didn’t ask for this all right!”

“Whatever we do we have to decide quick. They have back up coming – now.”

As soon as she finished, the strobes of lights appeared overhead and the ground rumbled with the approaching vehicles. “Get down,” Roy whispered. He gestured towards a nature made tunnel where the ground had broke upwards. They hid in the shadows, creeping from one dark spot to another. He felt his muscles freeze when Edward almost stepped out and straight into the light’s path. Riza swiftly reeled him back by his shoulders.

The units made a commotion when they found the bodies. It gave them ample time to sneak past the dilapidated buildings, crumbling from years of neglect and waste.

The rain finally stopped. The horizon fanned out with the decayed cityscape of Central.

“At least we made it downtown,” Riza sighed.

“This is downtown?”

“Well, it used to be before the armies decided to napalm the place.” She hopped down to a slab of concrete, extending her hand to help the kid down. “Trying to take out the most of the infected the best they could,” came her afterthought response.

In the valley between toppled skyscrapers, Roy heard a chilling growl. “That sounded close,” he grumbled. “Keep close. We’ll have to go through these buildings to get across.”

One of the skyscrapers had been knocked off its foundation and leaned against another. Using a broken window, they entered through the unstable building. He kept his ears open and alert knowing they wouldn’t be alone. Climbing several stairs, they reached the floor that would lead them to their exit.

They walked through what was once a financial analyst company. Desks had been slid against the wall with the incline, but decoration and mementos had been left behind, untouched for this long. Picture frames, papers, calendars. All still here.

Roy groaned when he realized their only way through was blocked by debris from the crumbling walls. He saw a jutting piece of steel girder and tested it with his weight. Sure enough, the rubble opened up an entryway large enough for them to crouch through. “Come on,” he instructed, feeling himself go red from the exertion. He watched as Edward crossed, followed by Riza. As he was about to find a way for himself, the weight of the building proved to be more than Roy could handle. Tiny pebbles fell rapidly now until the ceiling rumbled from the inadequate support. Large slabs of concrete shifted, caving the pathway in.

Ed coughed out the dust that had irritated his windpipe. The rubble from the wall blocked the doorway and left Roy on the other side of it. He heard Riza stir behind him, coughing as well. She scrambled to her feet and rushed over to where the wall had caved in. “Roy!”

“I’m okay,” he said hoarsely.

He watched the woman struggle with the debris and he rushed over to help her.

“I’ll see if there’s a way to get a pathway cleared,” Roy told her.

Then he heard it. In the dark behind him. Somewhere just a few rooms over. The clicking sound the rattled his bones. The horrible trill of assured death.

“You need to run,” Roy suddenly warned, his voice dipping low and dangerous.

“But-”

“Run!”

Riza grabbed him by the arm and hauled him, quickly pushing him forward to run in the opposite direction. He looked over his shoulder. The sight of Riza running behind him was a comfort, but a clicker jerkingly shambled into the office room they had just been in. Its head, or what was left of it, snapped towards them – attracted by the sounds of their heavy footsteps.

He reached the end of the corridor and skidded to a halt on his feet. A runner had intercepted him, grabbing him by the shoulders until a gunshot rang in his ears. The grip loosened and Riza grabbed his hand to run in tandem with her. Their careless footsteps and the gunshot had attracted more clickers out of office rooms.

All this time in military school and he had never felt so winded.

They finally managed to find a desk to hide behind and Riza brought her forefinger over lips, instructing to not make a sound. He closed his eyes, trying to calm the quick beating of his heart; to slow down his breathing. That breath remained in his lungs as he held it there with the approaching noise. Slow clicks by an unagitated clicker. He bit his cheek and Riza squeezed his hand. It sounded like it stumbled forward, increasing speed in its clicks.

He breathed out slowly. He knew very little about Clickers; only that they were a result of years and years of infection. The Cordyceps mutated and overtook their faces until it was just a big mouth. They were deformed and ugly bastards, encasing different shades of egg yolk yellow and red from the fungus sprouting over their eyes. He knew they made up for the loss of sight by using their clicking noise as a form of sonar radar; that’s why Riza urged him to be still.

The thing retreated and he noticed Riza’s chest begin to move normally again as if she was holding her breath too. She peered over the desk quietly and gestured him with her hand to move. She flattened her hands, signaling him to lay low. He thought himself pretty clever for picking up on that.

The pair walked around the corner of the room. He’d only now just noticed the giant floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city and beyond that, he could see the lights from Central’s walls.

When they finally got enough distance between the infected, Riza straightened herself, but each of her movements were still calculated. “We need to get to the other side – quick.”

“Don’t we need to find Roy?”

She grunted dismissively. “He can manage. You just worry about keeping close and not getting yourself killed.”

He eyed her suspiciously as he walked a few paces behind her. One minute she was trying to move the earth for him and the next she basically abandoned him. Ed wasn’t the type to leave his curiosities alone. “But you were worrying about him before – you’re just gonna leave him?”

She turned quickly on her heel, bent over to his level, and roughly gripped his shoulder. “I’m fine defending myself, as is he.” She straightened. “But I have more cargo than he does at the moment and that increases my chances of getting killed.”

Ed’s brow flattened. He hated being referred to as cargo or anything equivalent to dead weight. “Gimme a pistol. I can defend myself!”

“Lower your voice,” she hissed. “Your drop off location is far off from here, we just need to–”

She was cut off by a runner who steamrolled her into some cafeteria area. “Oh shit!” He looked around frantically for some kind of blunt object he could use and saw a fire extinguisher a little ways down the dark room. He rushed over, hearing the sound of teeth clacking together as  it tried to bite her. Ed broke the glass with his foot, something he would feel cool about later, and got the extinguisher out of his cradle. He darted back but  had to stop himself from impaling Roy as he entered and whacked the assaulting infected with a bat.

Riza breathed. “Thanks,” she said, clasping Roy’s hand to stand.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m alive.”

The older man turned to Ed, “And you?”

He released a breath too and gave him a thumbs up as he put down the extinguisher on a table. “Just peachy.”

“Then let’s move,” Riza ordered.  

Handling the exit of the building was an easier feat with both of them and it was obvious. He noticed they clearly worked as a team before. Infected still crossed their paths, but they had dealt with them expertly and professionally. He was still unsure of what exactly they were to each other. He was even more unsure of why he would even care. Eventually, Ed realized it came from little signs of familiarity. A touch of a shoulder that lingered a little too long. Or a small and succinct smile from either of them. It perplexed him because these things seemed like it slipped. They acted so coldly towards each other most of the time that they’d slip and it would throw them off.

Ed scoffed mentally; once again asking why would he care.

Eventually, they successfully traversed and descended the other building. The exit led to the roof of the adjacent building, not another street. Ed blocked the bright sun that began to slowly creep its way over, bringing in the new day.

“That’s our building over there.” Roy pointed to the vaulted, golden roof a few blocks away.

“You can’t deny the view.”

Roy glanced over to the boy. A smirk widened his lips at the simple wonderment of something that happened routinely. He walked next to him, staring out in front of him and deciding Edward wasn’t wrong. The sun brought forward light that made the glass and cement twinkle like gems.  “But it is hard to appreciate small things these days.”

The kid responded with a smile and a nod. Roy peered down to his watch, the one that wasn’t ticking. Ed had reminded him it wasn’t working back before he lied down for a nap.

A thick wooden plank fell loudly next to him, and yanked Roy from his musings.

Roy cleared his throat. “Just be careful crossing, they can be a bit–”

Ed scoffed, “You don’t have to tell me.” He crossed the plank with familiarity.

Roy was about to cross himself before he was held back by a hand.

He turned to see Riza with one of her disapproving looks. “Don’t get distracted. Let’s do this job and head back home.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Roy eased her hand out of its grip.

“If we live through this, maybe we could take it easy from here on out.”

Roy swallowed hard, stopping in the middle of the plank, and she urged him to move forward so she could. She said it so matter-of-factly, Roy had to wonder if she was joking. “Who are you and what have you done with Riza?”

“Ha. Ha,” she mocked. “I just know you’ve been talking about it for a while now. I know you’re tired. And after all this, I think I’m tired too.”

He breathed, “That would be nice.”

Roy would have clung to that sudden flurrying of good emotions and advised himself to keep it at bay. A feeling of dread crept slowly into his mind as he saw a fresh struggle between soldiers and what looked like Fireflies. He made the mistake then of deluding himself, convincing himself and Riza that it was probably not the people who were supposed to pick up the kid.

The Capitol building shimmered in the sunlight with the materials that still held up the edifice. But the beauty of it ended there. At the bottom of the stairs, it looked like a swamp. Green water had flooded the streets and nature had taken back what was hers, foliage peaking over the water’s surface.

Roy led their party up the stairs of what once was a historical building of Amestris. The door was already slightly ajar and it opened up to a round and extravagantly tall room with a grand staircase. The foyer, Roy assumed, and the room that had the fancy ceiling up above.

He looked down to the floor and he noticed them, just as Ed and Riza entered behind him. Panic overtook him like a fever. “No, no, no.” He rushed to the fallen bodies. Their necks were adorned with Fireflies necklaces and it confirmed his worst fear. “Fuck!” He searched through their persons, desperate to find something.

“Roy,” Riza called out to him, taken aback by his sudden change of demeanor. She walked up  to him. “What are you doing?”

“Maybe they had a map. Or something of where they were going.” He said frantically, breathing heavily and not bothering to hide it.

“Excuse me?” Riza lowered herself to his level. “Roy, this isn’t us. We take the kid back to Izumi and that’s all we can do.”

A burn could be felt in his eyes and he tried to will it away. He stood and she followed, her face a mixture of concern and perplexity. He grit his teeth, choosing to ignore her and search the next body.

“Roy, talk to me,” she demanded.

Nothing. He composed himself and his shoulders slumped, clenching his fists and feeling the finality of it all. “This is the end of the line for me, Riza.”

She huffed, “What are you talking about?”

“Holy shit.” Roy looked to the boy. He was shaking his head, a strange shade of golden eyes staring at him wide-eyed. “He’s infected.”

Riza looked at Edward and then Roy. “How do you–” but she stopped, gripping the bridge of her nose until she gathered herself. “Show me.”

“Riza.” He stood, holding up his hands to calm her down. She stepped back.

“Show me!”

He grabbed the collar of his dirtied shirt and exposed his inflamed skin. He didn’t want to look at it, but he knew where it was: the flesh adjacent to his neck, over his clavicle. He’d been able to hide it  with some hope that this could come to something and it suddenly felt like it was crashing down on him. Like that day.

Riza brought her hands over her mouth, nearing closer to him to inspect it – almost touching it – and backing away. “Oh, Roy,” she said with the smallest crack in her voice.

“You have to find them.”

She looked at him with a fury, eyes reddening around the corners. “You want me to what?”

“Find the Fireflies. Get him to them.”

“No,” she shook her head. “…you’re crazy. I can’t.”

With conviction, Roy marched over to Edward and the boy flinched as Roy clutched his wrist and exposed his bite mark. “This was three weeks. A stalker bit me an hour ago and mine already looks worse.” She winced when he showed her the wound again.

“Roy…” she tried to compose herself.

He walked over to her, grabbing her hands. “There has to be something left here. I know you still believe me. That you feel some kind of …obligation.” He could hear her breath getting labored.

Outside, a row of cars stopped in front of the Capitol building. The engines cut off and the uniform way the doors closed confirmed they weren’t friends of theirs. “Shit. You have to go now. I can buy you some time.”

“I know it’s been turbulent since-”

“Don’t,” he stopped her, knowing where she was going. He cupped her face, very nearly unable to dislodge the lump at his throat. “You have to take him.”

“No… No, don’t do this.”

“You have to. I will not turn into one of them.”

Hearing the footsteps approach, she whimpered before she nodded and some part of him wanted to shout for her to stay. But with the approaching heavy footsteps, Roy could only watch her back as she disappeared. He gripped the gun without so much as a tremble, and though death was always a common visitor in his life, coming and going for those around him, he thought he had his ducks in a row for when it would finally come for him. No words unspoken. No regrets to voice. After all this time.

He kidded himself, of course.

Roy squinted as the daylight spilled in. The doors bursted open and military officers filled in with an efficiency and militaristic order so paradoxical to what this world had become. He gripped the glock, flicking off the safety. They ordered him to put down the weapon, pointing several in his face – obviously outnumbered.

The sun felt warm, like it used to then. Back when he carried their toddler in one arm and had her hand in his. Sunshine was so precious.

They barked at him one more time, inching in closer. He pulled the hammer with his thumb, wondering whose day he’d make worse. Roy felt burning on his shoulder sear him to the bone that he twitched and accidentally pulled the trigger sooner than he intended to. He clipped a soldier but it was enough for them to engage. Several shot back and the warmth began to spill out of him. He was unaware of when he had hit the ceramic tiles.

Roy closed his eyes. His head lulled to the side and he breathed out.

‘Live, Riza.’

[campwintersoul]

Wintersoul Report Day 8: ~Spooky Scary Stories~

Cammy’s story of Zippo The Virtueless Temmie!

@two-littlesouls

Cammy took a deep breath, and then began.

“So, you know the Patron Temmies of Virtue, right? The special ones, like Lacie and Nugget. Well, when I was looking around the island the other day I found out that there is another special Temmie. One that no-one ever talks about.”

He looks around shiftily, almost like he’s thinking about whether or not he should say their name at all.

“...Zippo. The Dark Temmie. The Patron Temmie of the Virtueless.”

Another long pause, checking that saying their name didn’t cause them to show up or something.

“Zippo was just like the other Temmies once, only his body was jet-black. Looking at him was like looking into a Temmie-shaped hole in the universe. His role was important, representing all of those who live without souls or virtue and showing that they could do the right thing too!"

"But...Zippo was naive. He got jealous of his brethren and wanted what they had. The legends are sketchy about how he did it, but he tried to steal their virtues for himself. Eimmet, grief stricken and horrified by this betrayal, had no choice but to banish Zippo to the depths of the island. Under the Soul Sanctum, under the Core. Out of sight and out of mind...Forever."

"No-one knows what happened to him after that. Eimmet went to check on him once, to see if he had learned the error of his ways, but he was gone…There’s no point asking any of the other Temmies about him, because they’ll just pretend they don’t know anything.”

He turns to Eimmet and gives him a knowing wink.Then, after a few more moments, he gave another shifty look around and stood up. He dusted off his knees and lurched forwards, hands up and clawed so he was making a spooky pose.

“But they say that in his frustration, jealousy and hatred, Zippo became one with all the darkness of the island. A lingering shadow that hOids in waiting for souls who stay out too late! So, my friends, be very careful if you decide to stay out after curfew, otherwise the Dark Temmie will come and take your virtue!!”

He cackled and grinned.

*~Sure Eimmet. Exactly what a temmie would say!~

[[The rest are under the cut. Enjoy!]]

‘The Raffle by Ice Queen Aisha

@nolvlost

[You waited this long, it was bound to happen!] * Alright. [She takes a deep breath before starting.] 

* I call this story the Raffle.

* It was a lovely summer morning in the small town. The air was sweet and cool, rolling in lazy waves. There was all but 300 or so people populating it, but they always worked so hard. They had modest homes, all charming in their own ways. They also had massive farms that they put their blood, sweat, and tears in. And they had a massive school, empty now, but usually filled with students, eager to learn. It was no ordinary day, no. It was time for the raffle.

* The whole town joined it. You could feel the electricity in the air. Some of the town's children gathered stones and meandered about, before getting pulled over by their parents to gather on the towns square. They left their stones in a large pile behind, eagerly tagging along.

[Aisha pauses to swallow built up spit, gauging a reaction for her foreshadowing.]

* A lady joins the crowd, and finds her family just as they are putting in slips of paper into the raffle box. It seems she has forgotten all about today, and is quick to make small talk to other people in the crowd.

"This raffle is totally rigged, don't you know?" They don't answer her back. She quiets down, and listens to the rules she has heard for many years now.

[She stifles a cough before continuing on.]

* The announcer were to call out names, the head of the family were to retrieve a slip of paper, and only after everyone was called, then the papers be shown. The town elder pulled a slip for himself, eager to partake in the lottery. It's been going on years, decades even. The announcer decides to have a small chat while he was up there. 'There has to be a better way', he says. The elder was quick to retort that there was nothing wrong with tradition, and that stopping it was nothing but trouble. 'Raffle in August, corn among us', he said.

When all the the papers were drawn, everyone looked at their papers. All of the lady's talk about being rigged and unfair were spoken even louder by her, calling shenanigans. Her husband seemed to get the slip with a bright red sticker in the middle of it. The lady protests again, but her husband escorts her and their children to the stage where the raffle box were. The announcer dumps the rest of the paper out and puts in four slips of paper in, one for each member of the family. One by one, they all drew a slip of paper. Upon opening it, the lady breaks down crying, seeing as her slip held the sticker. Her husband, wordless, gave her one last hug before retreating with his kids.

[Aisha looks around the bonfire to gauge any reactions before breaking into a small coughing fit. No need to be alerted folks, she's okay, and the story's almost over.]

*... [She leans over the fire for that spoopy aesthetic.]

'This isn't fair! This isn't fair!' she screamed. A pebble hit her square in the temple, before small stones. The villagers fetched more from the child's pile, and soon, like vultures, they were upon her.

[Wow okay that deep voice really hecked up her throat. She leans away from the fire now and sits back down.] * ... I'm done now.

‘The Boy Given to Darkness’ by Rhys

@sixsmolsouls

Rhys took a deep breath, wringing their hands together anxiously. Was this an okay story? They guess they'll find out... "A-ahem,," They pulled an origami figure out of their pocket and held it tentatively between their hands.

"D...Did you know that the dark is really scary...?"

"You can't see... and it's suffocating. Things happen in the dark and you can't even see it.." They swallowed, eyes focused on their hands."No one else sees it either. Or they try not to see it. Because the dark... is really scary.."

"A long long time ago.... there was a little boy.. and the dark hunted him wherever he went. People would take them in.. care for them... but the dark always came and it always took them away."

"But... not really take... because the people gave the little boy back to the dark. Because the little boy was too much trouble. He would cry too loud or not eat or not sleep, and the people thought he was... too much trouble."

"That he wasn't worth it..."

Rhys was slowly folding the origami. A tired smile on their face.

"There was always the same punishment, for the little boy, he had to let the dark do whatever it wanted to them! Anything... it wanted." They swallowed. "Anything it wanted at all...."

"It was like a game to the dark, but it was life for the boy. And he always ran and he tried to get away but... no one thought the boy was worth it. So he always got taken back.."

"They didn't think there was anything wrong with the dark because ... they liked it. Everyone seemed to like the dark! N-no matter what it did...."

Rhys took a breath, shifting in their seat. Fire illuminating their face. They had folded a person-like figure from the white side of the paper.

"So the little boy thought... I'm wrong. Even if the dark does terrible, horrible, b ad b a d things to him, he had to be wrong. He was wrong, and the dark was right. Because everyone said so! And It had to be true because he kept losing."

They placed the little figure on the ground and the light from the fire caused a large shadow to be cast. Miraculously, the shadow looked like a large man with his hand on a child's shoulder. And the man was smiling.

"So the boy decided to stay. And the dark won. And the little boy's punishment, became their life. And they'd do anything for the dark... They'd be anything.. because.."

"They were really only worth anything to him..."

"T-the end!"

‘Mina’s Doll’ by Sabrina

@friskandmisc

Well you have all had such wonderful stories I hope I do not disappoint you with mine... ahemm.... 

One upon a time there was a girl named named  Mina. Mina was kind and sweet  but  was very lonely. her parents hardly ever payed attention to her and were far to busy to play, And her brother was mean and picked on her, the only persons she truly loved was her grandmother, who they had come to live with as they were moving. She was not her father’s real mother but a step mom but she loved Mina all the same. She was a successful toy maker but was a bit of a town pariah for and was known by the towns children as “the witch who lived in the old house”. 

One day Mina’s grandmother decided to make her a doll so she would not be lonely.  The grandmother had made the doll from scratch herself and made it in the girl’s exact image. While Mina watched her grandmother sew it she tried to help and pricked her finger on the needle and a drop of blood fell into the dolls body before being stitched up. The Grandmother smiled and comforted her and said it was okay and made the doll even better now! The doll had a piece of her in it so the doll will always know how she fells, and love her like a sister. When Mina’s Round blue eyes locked onto the dolls blue button eyes it was love at first sight. She named the doll “Mimi” as in “Me Me”; a second her. Mina and Mimi were best friends and did everything together. They played and spent every night together, ignoring all her other toys.

Soon Mina began to talk to the doll and giggle as if the doll has responded. She referred to the doll as he twin sister and treated it as if it was real. Her parents were displeased with this unhealthy behavior and did not want people to judge them it in public. One day Mina was playing with Mimi when her brother and his group of friends came over to hang out. They took one look at the girl and her life sized doll twin and began to tease then. They called her “weird” and a “freak” for her closeness to the doll. The brother did not want to seem weak in front of his friends and took the doll from mina’s hands and took it away to impress his friends and for the boys to “play” with.

Mina ran to her mother and father but they were busy and just told mina that she had to share. Mina cried and tried to be patient and wait but grew anxious without her “sister”. During that day mina grew sick and pinpricks appeared all over her body which bled and caused her a great deal of pain. Large clumps of hair fell out, but not all the way… the hair was broken off and straight as if cut... It eventually stopped before they were going to take her to the hospital. Nobody knew what had happened. Later, The brother returned from hanging out with his friends and gave the doll back… but he and his friend had mangled it, but They had cut off it’s beautiful brown yarn hair and stuck pin and needles into it. The parents merely scolded the son and shrugged it off as “boys will be boys”  but they  also scolded Mina for getting so worked up over a “silly doll”. The Grandmother was shocked at their parenting and comforted Mina before she ran in tears to her room. 

Mina took the doll back and held is close crying, she apologized to it and asked her to forgive them. Mina fell asleep. But.. a scream woke her from her slumber in the middle of the night. It came from her Brother’s room. When she arrived her brother was sitting in bed as his parents comforted him. What she saw shocked her. Pins were jammed deep all over his arms and chest and his head was shaved bald. But as stared did Her brother pointed at her “ SHE DID THIS! For me messing up her stupid doll!” The parents looked and asked her if this was true. She had no idea what they were talking about and honestly denied it “I saw her!!  I SAW HER RUN BACK INTO HER ROOM!” Mina tried to defended herself but her parents didn’t listen. “who else could have done it? And he saw you!” They then snatched Mimi From her arms as punishment and claimed she was too attached to it and it was messing with her mental state,  “were going to get rid of it the morning. Now go to your room and we will discuss this in the morning!”  Mina cried in her room and looked up at the night sky. She saw a bright star and gazed up at it and said aloud “I wish it could just Be Me, Grandma and Mimi, things would be so much better. Her tied puffy eyes soon closed as drifted off to sleep once again. 

When she awoke she smelled something sweet drifting up into her bedroom.  And found a fresh breakfast laid out for her, Golden pancakes: Her favorite!  Mina sat down to eat with her grandmother and looked around for her parents and brother. “Where is everybody else?” she asked but her grandmother only looked confused and asked her what she meant. “what do you mean my dear child, it has always been just you and me. Mina opened her mouth to protest but stopped herself…come to think of it..it had always been her and grandma. Was everything from yesterday all a dream? It had to be but she still felt uneasy. “Something feels missing…” Her grandmother smiles and shook her head and turned to the kitchen doorway. “Mimi please come bring us some milk.” Just as the grandmother finished speaking a girl with blue button like eyes and stringy short hair walked back in, she looked just like mina, and Mina recognized her right away as her sister. Her Twin sister, She was realized to see her sister after her nightmare and hugged her close. Mimi hugged back. “Oh did you have a nightmare? I am so sorry, but it’s okay now. I am here for you. I will always be here. “ 

The three Continued to eat breakfast together as a family. Mina had never felt so happy, at least that’s how it felt. It was like this all the time: happy. Before Mina and Mimi were about to head off on the bus to school however Mimi stopped her sister. “I will meet you there, I forgot my workbook! I will meet you on the bus okay? Mina nodded and ran off to the wait for the bus. Mimi went to her room and picked up her book before glancing over at a doll house in the corner of the room. It was an exact replica of the grandmothers house. She knelled down and looked at the three dolls in it.

pauses for a moment to see their reaction

Eimmet:*O-OH dearest!...T-the dolls inside that house...Don't tell me... they are...

There was a mother, A father and a boy doll, without any hair and pins in its arms. Mimi smiled at the little dolls and said with a cruel little smile in a childlike voice, “How does it feel to be a silly little doll?” The dolls did not respond but their faces were not that of a smiling happy family but that of horrified and punished criminals. Mimi smiled and got up closing the doll house leaving the lifeless dolls in the darkness and ran back out to her sister to stand beside her.   They were truly connected and loved each other, and Mimi would never let anyone hurt her sister again….

….So, The moral of the story is be nice to your dolls…and your children….or you might end up like that family…by the hands of a doll…like MIMI!!

she pulls out a doll like the one she described in the story  hidden inside her muff the sneaky little thing and holds it out to the terrified campers

Eimmet:*This story surely gave the creeps! No more dolls for me... gosh...

Eimmet:*KY AAA!!!*HISSSSSSS

‘Origins’ by Aswell

@the-grephil-anomaly

"Um..yes!" Aswell recalls the story Grephil has told so many times, that's stopped him from ever leaving the borders of The Dump... 

"Once long ago, before The Great War, there was an innocent little ghost that loved to eat. Unfortunately for this ghost, he couldn't enjoy any of the delicacies the living took for granted. He never got to enjoy the sweet taste of a cinnamon bun, or the soft and yummy goodness of a fresh baked pie..." 

He pauses for dramatic effect, just as his Father did. 

"However, he one day came across a dark wizard, who offered to give him the abilities to enjoy the food of the living. A corporeal body that would let him feel, taste, smell! He accepted the offer immediately! Finally being able to enjoy what he loved most on an entirely new plane of existance! The Wizard asked for only one thing in return. A favor, which he would redeem at a later date." 

"With the sign of what appeared to be an ancient tome, The ghost was blasted with intense and mystical energy. He was given a black and murky mass of slime as a physical form, and looked even more horrifying than the toughest monster in the underground! He didn't care though. He rushed to Snowdin with glee on his face, planning to eat the first thing he could think of."

Another pause. 

"What he thought of first...was the souls of monsters! The flesh of children! And needless to say, he didn't enjoy these thoughts at all. But as time went by, and he avoided the public's eye, the thought became more and more exhilarating! It sounded so good to him, and he was only getting hungrier with each passing minute!"

Aswell's mouth starts to drip with something black. His eyes start growing whiter and his voice gets lower. 

"This ghost..this supposedly L O V I N G father, couldn't handle himself anymore! Hee snapped, went out of his mind as the hunger consumed him!" 

His eyes go pitch black, eyes beginning to run the same black goop and his voice getting slightly gargled 

"His poor adopted son, who loved his Father for who he once was, tried to FLEE from the monster they now were. And what did they do? When the only thing they had in the world was horrified at them?" 

he starts breathing raspily, coughing up the gooy substance as he eyes starts glowing faintly, the iris completely invisible 

"H E  K I L L E D  H I M . . ." 

" He squeezed the life out of his pride and joy, impaling them with their PRECIOUS body..."

His voices gets heavier with every sentence

"Realizing what he did, he went even more insane! Going on a bloodbath across the entire underground, killing all in sight..."

Aswell's fur gets matted with black goo. How long had that been there?

"Afterwards, he decided to FIX his error, bring his darling boy back from the dead... How would do this? When He had already turned their soul to dust and the body a mangled mess?" 

Aswell lets out a toothy grin, gargling madly but still clearly heard as he started speaking like a mad man. 

"Necromancy of course! That, and a little BODY stealing. He STOLE the body of another monster, who looked just like his old son, and took half of his own soul, with a mixture of what his body was now made of, to make the new soul for that precious, PRECIOUS abomination!."

Aswell walks towards the fire. As he does, footprints are left in his wake of that black substance, and the goo he coughs up hits the fire, causing the flame to turn a greenish color for a split second each time it comes into contact. It's clear to see he was completely COVERED in the stuff, and as he lifts his arms up, he gets a very joyous look on his face as he looks to the heavens. 

"And that was the day that ASRIEL died, and ASWELL was born! AAAHAHAHAHAAA!" 

...He passes out, the goo dissipating into the air. You getting the feeling that wasn't how the story was meant to go..or that any of that was meant to happen...

‘Feeding a Shadow’ by Omen with assistance from Joe

@fusedfloras & @the-selfishsoul

Omen nodded before looking out to the crowd.

"There once was a child that gave up everything for the sake of others. It pained the child to give up so much of themselves and to see their own friends used them filled them with such hate. Yet the child never spoke up. Years upon years this, the child felt more hatred that it manifest into a dark gloomy shadow. One day, a wise old lady came across this child and saw the manifestation that others had failed to see "

It was by then that the shadow being casted by the flickering bonfire lights had stopped moving accordingly, it was subtle but if one were to pay close attention...they'd notice it.

" The wise lady ask if this child had any resentment towards anyone like their friends. The child quickly denied it and said they would give anything for their friends without a second thought. The respond from the child worried the lady as she gave one final warning, “ If you keep this up your going to end up being swallowed by the monster you keep feeding...”

It seemed to stretch, ever so slightly, to the point where it's presence had seemed to be exaggerated by the light itself. Was the bonfire getting brighter? Or was it to the others a strange illusion?

Omen's tone soon shifted as she continued on with her tale. " The child did not heed the lady instead they ignore her just as they ignore their feeling. The continue their lifestyle until one night, on a night like this. They gave up everything for their friends like always but their friends ended up throwing the child away, ditching them. “You wish for revenge don't you?” a voice spoke from the shadows. “ * I can help you with that but you first must help me in return...*

The girls shadow would start to slowly but surely stretch wider in width. It looked rather intimidating for someone of her size. 

" The child was pent up with rage that without hesitation they agreed to help the mysterious voice, wanting nothing more that what was finally due to them. And at that moment of the verbal agreement was made, the child's shadow grew to a towering height with two red gleaming eyes trained on them.

Suddenly, as described by Omen, her very own shadow had emerged, looking menacing with their very own bright red iris' that stared down the camper's with a menacing glare, accompanied with a smile that seemed to glow like the fires itself. "I'll consume your so called friends but first....I'LL CONSUME YOU!!!” 

" !! "Omen turned around, looking at the shadow that stood behind her in fear, before letting out a shriek.

[[https://campwintersoul.tumblr.com/post/155969054638/the-selfishsoul-scary-story-telling-at]]

[And immediately! The shadow abruptly charges forward, grabbing Omen in a shroud of darkness...before suddenly, it spun around as genuine laughter rang out as the darkness surrounding the girl spinned and reformed themselves to hugging them with the shadow somewhat in an uproar at the whole telling of the story.] 

"Jeez! You should've seen the look on your guys faces!!"

[markmceachran]

Last Call

“Don’t worry about that. Just get out of here. Go!” Jim said. Although every ounce of him wanted to go with them. He couldn’t go, though. They had a better shot at making it if Jim kept the men at the door busy. But busy how, he wondered.

Standing at the bar, he tried to conjure a plan that would keep them at bay, save his friends, and keep his work up above from being destroyed. The smash of the battering ram against the door pulled Jim from his ponders and reduced his options to one, but would it work.

Bottle after bottle of high-octane alcohol smashed on the ground as Jim slid his arms between the rows of booze and the wall behind. Nearly every bottle on the shelf was amped up to 150 proof or higher, a result of Jim’s early water extraction process. Anything over 100 is flamable. At 150 it gets dangerous to handle.

He whipped around to the back of the bar where he had left a vat of purified vodka sitting. Sometimes old men just don’t get around to finishing things quickly, and this time it worked in Jim’s favor. The vat’s contents were higher than 190 proof, almost pure alcohol. He could have launched a rocket with enough of the stuff. A screwdriver and a hammer made short work of the vat’s ingrity and gallon after gallon of vaporous vodka spread across the floor of the entire bar.

That’s enough, Jim thought. Time to go. With his laser in hand he got into the elevator just as The Dragon bashed through the door. He gazed over at them from the parted curtains, pulling his head in just as the door closed.

Up on the 35th floor the doors opened. Jim turned a key on the control console to halt the box and leave the door open. Will it work, he thought. It has to work. The capacitor on the laser still had juice, and Jim pointed it down the elevator shaft at the tiny gap in the door jam. It was very small, such that you’d be able to loose a pebble down it, but nothing larger than that. Lasers don’t care about such things. Lasers are a beam of high-intensity light that shoots with a radius in millimeters. The laser had room to spare in the narrow gap and it shot all the way down to the basement, but for a moment.

The vapor had penetrated the elevator shaft just enough to mingle with the high-powered laser. It ignited. The flame followed the fuel back through the tiny gap in the door down at the bar and in an instant consumed the rest of the high-octane, vaporized fuel and any oxygen it could find.

A shockwave blew outward and upward. The violent shaking of the building knocked Jim down, and he knew by the power of the blast that he had succeeded.

Jim had never knowingly killed anyone before. He never had to. He chose to live in the city, a place that people fled when times got tough. He knew that he could survive and hide away from the harsh reality that others faced. Keeping quiet and reclusive kept him alive, and serviced to keep him from doing horrible things to stay alive. Jim never had to play the survival game, never had to stab a neighbor for water to keep his children alive. He was spared to ever had to make that decision when he lost his family– until today.

He felt certain that the men in the bar were dead. A concussion blast strong enough to shake the building’s foundation was certainly enough to do the job. Looking out a window from the 35th he could see other men, other Dragon men scattered around the building. None of them were moving, maybe they were dead too.

He walked around the jungle that made up the 35th floor, peering out the windows on each side of the building, looking for Cindy and Hope & Angel. There they were, working their way across the bridge. From a distance it appeared as though they were bickering about something, which made Jim laugh a little, and then grieve a little. It took him back to Yellowstone for a moment, watching those three traverse the bridge. They were in danger still. Once again Jim felt helpless. It was a familiar, sobering feeling as he replayed his actions once again from so many years ago. Could he have had the foresight to make a different decision back then, to take his family with him for groceries? He couldn’t have known. There was nothing to indicate that such a random thing was going to happen. There was no news, no geologic survey warnings, nothing. I couldn’t have known, he thought, but I knew today. I knew enough today to make it different. His lips started to tremble in anger and grief. A little tear trickled down his aged cheek. “Go,” he whispered at the window, “Go, I’ll meet you there.”

Fruits and veggies were on his agenda and a shopping cart seemed the appropriate vessel for gathering them. One of his treasures was a relic from an old grocery store. It was fully functional and the wheel bearings had miraculously stayed clean in the decades of neglect they had surely endured. A little oil once a year was all it took to keep this conveying marvel in good condition on the 35th. It’s presence prompted Jim to build a little path through the garden. Old cubicle walls were sturdy enough to hold the weight of Big Jim and his cart, and smooth enough to roll over. Apples, squash, lettuce, kale, green beans, and a mess of other organic matter made it into the cart. It was enough food for a few weeks for the four of them if rationed conservatively. Jim even had the canvas grocery bags that made a wasted effort to save the planet by deprecating plastic and paper. “All the good food is on the edges of the store,” he chuckled to himself.

One last look is all he thought he needed. Standing near the elevator he marveled at his creation one more time, a beutiful jungle of life, an Eden in the afterworld. The seeds, he thought, I almost forgot. The seeds were nestled in two fishing tackle boxes up above, where it’s dryer. He and his cart boarded the elevator, going up.

“Gorrrrrrrcshh Ip,” squawked the little box.

Once upstairs he could hear the helicopter swooping about and it gave him a sense of calm. He didn’t know that Angel was orchestrating a daring escape from The Dragon for he and the ladies because he only caught the tail end of the action. Feeling confident that the kids were out of danger he went about grabbing the seeds and heading back down to the third floor to catch his own ride out.

Jim used to walk the train lines, even the elevated ones. It was easier, albeit more dangerous, than walking through the sand on the ground. Most of the extraordinary things he had scavenged from the were sitting along the train line at various places around the city. He had come across several train cars along the track, but most of them were toward the ends where train yards had dozens of cars parked. Each train car has it’s own motors to drive the wheels, and those motors drew power from the third rail that ran alongside the track. Powering the rail took a lot of electricity and was fraught with failure points. The trains were one of the first services the city shut down in an attempt to balance the budget.

With the trains no longer running, the commuters that depended on those vehicles were left to use buses or just leave the city. It caused the first flight of the afterworld. In the four years that followed the discontinued service, the population of the city was cut down by a third. At the time the newspapers called it a great constriction as businesses that serviced commuters closed, which led to the more affluent business owners to leave town, thus cutting tax revenues even further. It was a downward spiral from there, and it all started with the trains. It had to start with something, though. The end was inevitable and history would not have been changed had the city made cuts in other places, instead of the trains.

A benefit of the trains being shut down early was that the tracks suffered little stress. They were retired in great shape and the elevated tracks were spared from the damage that ground level systems suffered at the grit of the dunes and drifting sands. The power systems were another story, though. Exposed wiring rusted and eroded little by little over the years. There was nothing to be done to recover them.

It was the solar panels on a roof nearby one of the abandoned train cars that gave Jim the idea that he could create a self-powered train car. He hastily rigged up the panels to the car one day, well, over the course of several weeks actually. It ran, but just barely. The box had damage, which is probably why it was abandoned where it was and not driven back to a train yard. It hobbled, so Jim hobbled it back to a train yard to find a better car. He found two, and he ran them both back to his building when he got them running. Both cars were wired up with their own, independent solar arrays and some semblance of batteries to even out the power through shady parts of the routes. They’d run at about 30 miles per hour, probably faster, but Jim didn’t want to put the trains or the rails to the test.

During his runs around the city with the train cars, he found himself clearing the routes of other abandoned cars. He stuck to the elevated routes, as the underground had many sections that were filled with sand and impassible. With his trains he was able to accelerate his work. No longer was he stuck walking, which was good. Jim was old and his body wasn’t going to take a lot of punishment.

“Thrrrssssshhhhhhhhhck Florrrrrrrrrrrrrrck,” squaked the little box as the doors opened half-way.

I’ll have to fix that later, Jim thought, maybe. Pushing the doors apart took all the strength he could muster and he knew by the feel of the doors as they slid that they might not open the next time.

On the opposite tracks waited Jim’s train. A two-car mutant adorned with solar panels across the top of each car, and along the sides where some of the windows used to be. His machines had working headlights, batteries enough to power them for about 20 minutes without the sun, and a special treat: air conditioning. He rewired every inch of the train to make sure that only essential systems drew power from the batteries, but when they were in the sun everything came to life.

To the untrained eye they were ugly as sin, but Jim thought they were beautiful. He had rebuilt them, the important parts anyway, from head to tail. He even put in a little cocktail bar in the back of the rear car. With his stationary bar likely destroyed, he decided that this was now the Last Bar in America, and it was on wheels!

With all his gear loaded he powered up the systems to get underway. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted some figures pressed up against the glass door of his building. “Shit!” he whispered as he ducked down in the conductor booth. He had to keep on flipping switches to get the train’s systems online. His power system didn’t have the torque to build up speed quickly. The agile, young Dragon could easily jump on board if they started out at that moment, but they didn’t.

They didn’t know what he was doing, or that he was even there. Peeking up just a bit he could see that they were essentially dumbstruck by the sight of his baby. It was no time to take things for granted. Once he powered up all four motors he put the train into gear, and he was discovered.

Racing out of the door the five men with ravenous looks scared Jim to his core. If his timing was off they’d be on his platform and boarding his train. The adrenaline rushed into his head and he couldn’t make an estimate on their chances over the sound of his heart beating through his skull. Turning a small knob he overrode the automated power switch and juiced the motors with additional power from the batteries. He hoped it would be enough, it had to be enough.

A jolt rattle through the train as the motors strained from the additional amps. Jim had read the ratings on them, and in a brand new state they would be able to take it, but they were nearly fifty years old. There was no telling how much they could take. The Dragon were coming down the stairs on his platform, so he gave them a little more juice, just enough to make it, maybe.

The beasts ground ahead with more power, still handling the additional load. The Dragon were getting closer, nearing the rear car, which was nearing the end of the platform. Just a little more, Jim thought. He turned the knob a tiny bit more and the train pushed ahead even faster. Spinning around, he stuck his head out of the platform-side window and looked back. There, on the platform, were The Dragon. He counted, maybe four, maybe five, he wasn’t sure. The noise of the train and the rush of blood were clouding his mind. He pulled his head back in and looked down the inside of the train cars.

There was no one, all the way down.

The post Last Call appeared first on Mark McEachran.

http://j.mp/2hiDvcb November 07, 2017 at 08:30AM