#looking at them like this mine is clearly worse in a few key areas

[hustlerose]

graphic design study. tried to do my own thing while using all the same ideas from the original

[hereforhalstead]

Showtime - Part 2

*Gif not mine, credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader.

• Requested: Part 2!

• Warnings: Swearing

• Summary:   Part 2 of being undercover with Adam, despite being in a secret relationship with Jay. You can find Part 1 here..

• Words: 2353

• A/N : Part 3 coming shortly as I know not much happened here but needed a filler! Also, kind of wish I had wrote this as being undercover with Kevin as that man really doesn’t get the recognition he deserves, but I got inspo when Hailey was undercover with Adam so will have to be one for next time!

***

“What’s the hold up?” you jump as Voight’s rough voice booms from behind you “The mic was playing up so just had to get it fixed, Sarge” Jay responds for the pair of you as you nod in agreement “Right well let’s get going. Jay you’re with Kim and Y/N, Adam is waiting for you in the car outside. Let’s move” he instructs before stomping past you, leaving you and Jay stood in an awkward silence “Good luck” he sarcastically offers with a grin on his face, you find his confidence amusing considering the night he is in for but decide to go along with his humor “Thanks baby, but I don’t need luck”.

“Sarge, we need a code word to listen out for” Hailey speaks across the radio, you pick up the one hidden under Adam’s seat to respond “Mocktail”. Adam looks at you with his bottom lip out and nods “Hey, that’s a good one” he reassures and you place the back of your hand under your chin to gloat “thank you, thank you”. 

As you approach the club, Voight pulls over into a nearby road to hang back and is soon followed by Jay pulling up behind him to park his truck “You head inside, I’ll leave it a few minutes and follow you in” he directs to Kim who tousles her hair before walking off. Adam stops the car next to Voight’s and you wind your window down to allow him to speak “Jay and Kim will be close by and Kev, Hailey and I will be listening in. Any sign of trouble and you get out or say the word and we will be there” he orders and you can feel Jay staring at you from the other side of Voight “Don’t leave her alone in there, can’t be bothered going through the process of getting another partner” he confesses to Adam with a chuckle, Voight glances at him with a stern look on your behalf “Are you still here?” he asks and you try to hide the smile that is spreading on your face at the change in Jay’s confidence “I’m going” he huffs and exits the car.

Adam drives slowly alongside Jay as he traipses along the side walk, still with the window wound down Adam leans across to speak out of your window “Make mine a double water with a side of Lemon, will you?” he grins but Jay isn’t entertained “Careful or I’ll replace it with worse” he threatens back with a sarcastic smile “No tip for you then” Adam tuts before putting his foot down to speed towards the club “Who’s pissed him off?” he questions but you choose not to answer. 

You watch as Jay walks in the back entrance, giving you a look over his shoulder before heading in. Adam hands the keys over to the valet before giving him some speech about how expensive the car is and if there is so much as a scratch he will make him pay for it, how easily he slips into this kind of character is honestly baffling.. The poor man reassures Adam and drives to park the car, Adam turns to you and naturally slings his arm round your waist and settles his hand at the base of your spine to direct you. “You good?” he whispers in your ear and you nod “If you want to leave, just put your hand on my knee and I’ll make an excuse.” he calmly offers and it instantly helps calm any nerves you had, you had been undercover in clubs a few times but not with a group quite this dangerous so it would’ve been strange if you weren’t a bit on edge.

Your eyes instantly fix onto Jay who is stood behind the bar, pouring a drink and handing it to Kim. You’re not shocked to find he is already looking at you, slight worry in his eye as he chews the inside of his lip. One of his classic go to when he is anxious, you thought you were going straight to VIP but one of the men approach you and Adam first. Out of no where, a tall man in a black suit stands closely to Adam and that’s when you realise his ear piece and mic pinned to the collar of his shirt “Dan and Alice?” he asks and Adam is quick to offer his hand out to the man “that’s us, sir”. The man glances down to Adam’s hand but then ignores it, Adam returns his hand onto the small of your back with a grunt so quiet that only you could hear it. “This way, you’re late and they’re waiting for you”. He extends his arm to direct you to the VIP area “All due respect, they’re waiting on our money so we’re not in a rush” Adam jokes but the man remains stern “That’s quite the attitude you got there, he always like this sweetie?” he aims the conversation to you and you roll your eyes “Only when he doesn’t get what he wants, doesn’t happen often” you wink and notice the corners of his mouth flicker into a smile briefly before falling back to the scowl “Let’s get on with this then.” he walks round behind the pair of you, forcing you to walk ahead “What a nice guy” Adam mumbles to you, causing you to nudge his chest with your elbow as a warning “You deserved that” a voice speaks from behind you, a reminder he was hot on your heels and could hear everything you were saying “If you’ve got any other sarky comments, I suggest you get them out now because they’re not as forgiving”.

***

What seemed like a few hours had gone by and you well and truly felt like a spare part, sat on Adam’s lap as a mere trophy to impress the others. Joining in the conversation every now and then but apart from that, you remained quiet to offer a smile or the occasional sympathetic laugh. “You wouldn’t mind going to grab us some drinks, darlin’?” one of the men leans forward to you and hands you his empty glass. You don’t accept his gesture as you leave the glass in his hand and don’t make any effort to move “Isn’t that what the staff are for? Shit VIP area if you have to get your own drinks” you scoff and run your fingers through Adam’s hair “Be a good girl and run along, the men have some business to discuss” he winks and you instantly feel you could vomit. “Just grab us a bottle off the top shelf and some glasses, isn’t hard” Adam stares down the man before he taps your leg and places a kiss to your shoulder “Won’t be long baby, you might find some friends at the bar” you grimace a smile at him and huff as you stand from his lap, ensuring you pull down your dress to have some attempt in covering your ass as you head down the stairs. 

Jay already has his eyes on you as you scan over to the bar, taking a mental note of where Kim’s stood and making your way over to her. You lean forward on the bar to Jay, knowing full well your chest is very much extenuated as he struggles to keep his eyes up “A bottle of your finest whiskey and 5 glasses, we’re in VIP so you can just bring them over. Thanks” you demand and hold up the VIP card you had been given to add to the tab.

“Doesn’t work that way angel, you take your own drinks. I’m not a server” Jay is quick to hit back, clearly enjoying his new role “Whatever, just get me the bottle and a shot of vodka” you put the card on his side of the bar and turn to lean your back on the bar and look towards Adam.

“Everything alright?” Kim quietly asks from beside you as Jay places the shot on the bar, you pick it up as quick as it is put down and drink it in one “Splendid”. 

“Are you gonna take this, or?” Jay pipes up from behind you, you turn to look at him and he truly is a sight. Bar towel slung over his shoulder, shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows and a slight glisten on his skin “No you’re gonna bring it for me.” you smile and strut away from the bar. Jay looks over to Kim who tries to hide her smile in her hand as he rolls his eyes “Voight, never give her this role again. She’s relishing in it far too much” Jay grumbles into the microphone hidden in his collar, Kim is quick to speak back before Jay can walk away “Don’t listen to him Sarge, I think he’s secretly enjoying seeing her in a short dress and heels”.

You can sense Jay watching intently as you make your way up the stairs in front of him, only urging you to swing your hips more with every step. You reach the top and situate yourself next to Adam at the table, Jay makes no delay to turn his attention back onto the drinks and you laugh to yourself at how obvious you found it to be. “Just there is fine, thanks pretty boy” you wink at Jay who grins down at you “Pretty boy?” the tall man, you soon learn to be named Eric questions “You better watch out, he might have her off you” he raises his brows as he drinks “No chance mate, she ain’t going anywhere” Adam runs his hand up and down your leg, stopping at the  hem of your dress.

“Besides, she ain’t gonna go for him. Look at him, a server at a bar isn’t exactly who you want to be with is it?” Adam chuckles and you feel your stomach pull, even knowing Adam was only speaking in his character it still didn’t sit right with you that he was saying those things about Jay “I don’t know, he’s pretty cute” you hit back as Jay stands awkwardly, still pouring the liquid into cold glasses in front of you. Adam runs his hand along his jawline and huffs in a laugh before wrapping his arm round you and pulling you onto his lap and away from Jay “We can pour our own drinks, you can go now”” he adds and Jay nods “have a nice night”. 

His eyes linger on you for a split second before heading back down the stairs to the bar, you could tell he was pissed off just by the way his shoulders were tight and his back was straight as he returns to the bar. You turn your attention back to the group of men, one of which was staring at you far too hungrily which you tried to avoid but couldn’t for much longer as he placed himself next to you on the leather sofa “Mind if I have 5 minutes with your girl? I’ll get her out the way while you all settle up” The man asks and you grip onto Adam’s sholder, hoping he would get the hint of how you didn’t want him to agree “Think I’ll keep her with me if that’s alright, don’t want her causing trouble” Adam jokes but Eric clearly wasn’t taking no for an answer “Come on sweetie, just a bit of fresh air is all. Won’t be long”. You could tell he wasn’t going to let up so patted Adam on the chest and gave him a reassuring smile “I’m sure I’ll be fine”.

You yet again made your way down the stairs, followed closely by Eric who was quick to place his hand at the nape of your neck to guide you towards the exit. You walked past the bar and Jay looked concerned, followed by a scowl on Kim’s face as she watched you get rushed past “Sarge, Y/N is being led out by a white male. 6′4, black hair with a white shirt. She doesn’t exactly look happy about it”. Kim speaks into her microphone and not second goes by before Jay chimes in “Want me to follow?” he asks but Voight doesn’t respond.

“We haven’t got eyes, they came out but have gone round the back. It’d be too obvious for us to move but I can follow on foot?” Hailey speaks over the radio, Jay looks at Kim with a panic as silence is still coming from Voight “Sarge, we need answer” Kevin adds but still nothing “I’m going after them” Jay huffs and slams a glass onto the bar “No, leave her for a few minutes. She will be fine” Voight’s voice finally emerges but Jay isn’t happy “Are you serious? Some guy  has taken her out of sight are you’re happy to sit back and do nothing?” he spits back, standing with his back to the club to avoid raising suspicion “All change to channel 5, you’ll be able to listen into her microphone and then we can decide when to move in” Voight demands as Jay and Kim switch their devices as instructed “Is he fucking serious? If something happens to her I’ll-” Jay leans forward, onto the bar near Kim. “Can still hear you, Halstead” Voight interrupts over the radio and Jay scoffs “Good.”

***

[parkers-gal]

OMG!!! for angst you should do one where Harry finally gets a girl and everyone’s used to choosing tom over him and the reader is just naturally close to tom and he accuses her of cheating on him w T and it’s really angsty

requests are open

wc: 1.8k

—

It was a force of habit. Everybody knew, but nobody mentioned. Nobody knew the full extent of it, nobody cared to ask how much it bothered him. In hindsight, it probably isn't even that obvious. Not unless you open your eyes, not unless somebody confides in you, plants the idea in your head so you can’t see it differently

You had been going out with Harry for a good two months by the time you’d finally met the rest of his family. You and Tom had met previously before, having been introduced and together for only a day before both of your jobs drove you in opposite directions. When you rejoiced, you were naturally close, reconnecting that bond that was cut off too shortly.

Harry didn’t mind at first. He liked that you got along with his family. It made him happy to know you fit so well into his lifestyle. But it wasn’t until people started whispering around, joking that they always thought you and Tom would end up together. It was all fun and games, you knew that, of course. You’d never thought of Tom that way, despite everyone forcing the idea onto you. It was a mutual agreement, that the two of you would never cause problems between your relationship with Harry. And that your relationship with Harry would never splinter your friendship with Tom.

It was just after a dinner with Harry’s family. You were talking with Tom while Harry talked to Sam, when somebody made another joke about how you should be with Tom instead. You laughed it off, as you always did, but Harry couldn’t do the same. He excused himself as Nikki brought a few dishes out. You noticed his hostile and closed off walk, so you, too, excused yourself before following him out of the dining room and all the way upstairs to where he’d hid off to.

You knocked with the knuckles of your right hand. “Har?” The door creaked open as you nudged it slightly, stepping into the room. “You okay?” He grumbled something inaudible and you stepped closer. “What was that?”

“I said no, I’m not.” “What’s wrong, hun?” You carefully sat yourself next to him, naturally leaning into his side.

“It seems like everyone just thinks you’re dating my brother! I mean, at this point, I’m starting to wonder if there’s something else going on.” You back track, sitting up and separating from his side with furrowed brows. “What?” He didn’t answer, merely turning to look the other way, leaning his elbows on his knees as he sighed. “Harry you know that’s not true.”

“Do I?” He’s angry, and you finally notice just how much.

“Harry… you know we’re just friends. We’ve always been this close.”

“Yeah well maybe you’re too close.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not like that with anyone else.” “I’m like that with everyone else! Everyone except you.” You huff, defending yourself but keeping your voice calm.

“What makes me so damn different, then, huh?”

“You’re my boyfriend, Harry! Of course you’re different!”

“Yeah well I can’t see the difference between how you treat boyfriends and how you treat best friends, anymore.”

“What?” You sit back a bit, shock running through your veins at his confession.

“Really, though! It’s a bit fishy, if you ask me.” He’s still speaking sternly, angrily. He’s frustrated, but now so are you.

“I hope you’re not suggesting what I think you are, Harry.” You’re just as angry now. You’re warning him, hoping he won’t jump off that ledge into the irreversible.

“I think you know exactly what I’m suggesting.” He takes the leap.

“You know I’m not that kind of person. You know your brother, Harry. He’d never do something like that to you.” You’re trying to reach an empathetic approach, not quite ready to burst unless he’s absolute about this.

“No but I know that everyone else is.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” “That means everyone else chooses my brother over me. I’m used to it.”

“You’re not implying that I’m one of those people, are you?” You gaze into his eyes, tongue clicking against the roof of your mouth. He swallows thickly.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’m not angry if you are with him. I just wish you’d told me before cheating.”

“What the fuck, Harry,” You mutter it, exhaling angrily. “I’m not cheating!”

“I’m telling you I’m not angry that you are!”

“If you weren’t angry, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“So you admit you’re cheating on me? That I should be angry?”

“Fuck you, Harry.” You jab a finger in his direction. “You know that’s not what I said or what I meant.”

“I mean, you don’t even need to say it.” He chuckles bitterly.

“What does that mean?” You’re raising your voice, anger thickening the tension in the room.

“I mean, take one look at you and Tom together in a room and you already look like you’re in love.”

“Fuck that, Harry. He’s my friend. I’m allowed to have friends, y’know.”

“I never said otherwise!”

“What are you even on, right now?” You stand angrily, looking at him. He looks at you with a mirrored expression.

“I’m just asking for the truth, here!”

“No, you’re jealous.” He swallows, nostrils flaring. You know you’ve hit a weak spot, a sensitive area. He’s angry as ever, now. He stands. “Harry, I’m s-”

“You’re in love with someone else.”

Tears fall from your eyes as you try to compose yourself. You’re just as angry. You’ve taken the blow, fired your own canons. You’re not sure how much longer you can battle in the field.

“Fuck you, Harry.”

“No, fuck you!”

“You’re jealous and have the audacity to say I’m ‘in love with someone else!’” You spit out your words bitterly.

“I’m not fucking jealous! I’m fucking hurt! You’re cheating!”

You scoff, rolling your eyes at the pettiness of the argument. You know there's a reason behind his unreasonableness, but he doesn’t have the right to hurt you with his words.

He’s blinded by anger, though. He doesn’t have boundaries when something takes what he loves. He’s hurt, obviously, but he was too insecure to truly confide in the real reason for his distress. Now he’s angered the both of you, now he’s crumbled the foundation. He’s pulled the relationship apart at the seams, breaking the promise and splintering one relationship after another. He knows, in some way, though, that he’s right. He knows because if he weren’t then he wouldn’t be as hurt as he is.

“You’re a fucking child, Harry.” You cross your arms, grabbing your bag that was sitting on the chair in the corner. “Find me when you grow the fuck up.” You open the door of the bedroom, slamming it and marching down the stairs angrily.

You’ve caught the attention of the rest of his family. The two of you were up there for a good twenty minutes; you’d left Tom wondering what was happening and if things were okay. He could see now that things weren’t. He could also see that you were crying and he moved over to comfort you but you shoved him off, declining his embrace, knowing it would only make you feel worse because of what Harry had said.

You put your free hand up, gesturing for him to stop and back off. You’re gripping your bag tightly as you pull out your keys. You hold yourself back from slamming the front door, knowing you didn’t want to make an entire scene at Nikki’s house.

They watch from the doorway. They watch you slam your car door, burst into tears once you start the car. They watch as you drive off. The minute your car is out of view, Tom marches upstairs, ready to get to the bottom of what happened and why you’re so hurt. He doesn’t bother knocking on Harry’s door.

“What the fuck, man?” Harry exasperates, looking to his brother with wild eyes.

“I should be asking you that,” He slams the door. “What did you do to Y/N?” Harry scoffs, rolling his eyes in irritation. “Of course that’s why you’re here.”

“I’m here because she just ran out crying and I deserve to know why!” “You don’t deserve anything from me, Tom.” Harry spits out. They’re yelling at each other. He wishes things were different.

“Fuck that, Harry. You know I’m her best friend. I deserve to know.”

“Why are you her best friend?” He screams out. Tom goes quiet at the question, wanting to hear more, wanting to understand where he was coming from. “My entire life, I spent in your shadow. I had to normalize girls automatically wanting you more than me. An-and the minute I get something that’s finally mine- some thing that actually wanted me for once, you question why I’m angry about her also wanting you? No, fuck you, Tom.” His words are clear and crisp and his eyes are drowning in salty tears. He wants to swallow his feelings, push them away and blink his tears gone. But he can’t. “I thought finding someone was about falling in love and growing into soulmates or some shit. That’s all she ever talked about when we first started dating! It was always ‘best friends to lovers makes for the best couple’ and ‘falling in love with your best friend is the best thing in the world.’ And at first, I actually had the nerve to think she was talking about me. But now I know I’m just her boyfriend- I’m not her best friend, because that position is already filled.”

He eyes Tom up and down as his face loses its tense expression. He struggles to get a breath, gasping as more tears come out. Tom is silent and Harry assumes the conversation is over. He shoves past Tom, knocking into his shoulder as he runs out, slamming the door and trapping himself into the bathroom. He can barely breathe, barely see clearly through the waterworks.

Tom realizes why Harry lashed out, why he grew insecure. But he can’t place who’s in the wrong, who should make the first move and apologize first. He also realizes Harry is so upset about this because he loves you so much. He’d never seen his brother feel so strongly for someone. He realizes he might’ve taken that away from him.

And suddenly, he realizes neither of you are in the wrong. You’re both right in your own ways. He realizes he’s been in the wrong this whole time. He realizes he’s making this love story about himself. He’s torn his beloved brother up, questioned what was supposed to be set in stone.

Maybe Harry was right; maybe he didn’t deserve anything from Harry. Maybe Harry was the one who deserved the explanation.

Why did you get what’s his?

[sunshineseung]

Gag Gift // Seungmin

🍄 | genre: smut ☁️ | pairing: Kim Seungmin x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 2.5k 🌸 | includes: dom!seungmin, sub!reader, established relationship, use of toys (ball gag), teasing, sadistic seungmo, PIV, unprotected sex, mild size kink, Seungmin is huge :), mentions of distention (stomach bulging), slight degradation and overstimulation, creampie, aftercare, soft ending 

☀️ | synopsis: Merry Christmas! Seungmin gets you the gag gift of being gagged.

🌊 | This is for the Stray Kids Smutmas collaboration hosted by @clandestine-lixie​ ! Here is a link to the full masterlist with all of the other amazing writers that participated! I’m well over a week late on when I was planning to release this because I’ve literally rewritten this five times :D I hope it’s good now though lol. Here’s a very late Merry Christmas and a slightly late Happy New Year!

You were drifting in and out of consciousness, trying desperately to stay awake until your boyfriend got home. It was very late, but since you couldn’t spend Christmas together, you wanted to see him, even if it was just to cuddle to sleep. 

There’s a faint jingling from the front door, and you spring up in excitement. The tiredness that just overwhelmed you was now nearly gone, replaced by the eagerness to greet your boyfriend. His key twists and he pushes the door open. By the time he was able to take his shoes off, you were already standing in front of him, ready to give him the biggest hug of his life.

“Minnie!” You wrapped your arms around him, taking a quick whiff of his cologne. He chuckled and hugged you back, pulling you close. You two just stood in each other’s arms in silence, appreciating this small moment, because you don’t get moments like these often. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, baby.” You could feel Seungmin’s wide smile on the back of your neck. By the way he’s squeezing you, he has missed you a lot more than you’ve missed him. “How’s my girl been while I was away?” 

“I’ve been good, I promise!” There was no need for you to tag on the last part because Seungmin trusts you more than you know, but it still brings a smile to his face to see you so jumpy and happy. He knew you’d be good. You’re always good for Seungmin. You both pull away from the hug, finally just looking at each other after what felt like ages being apart. 

“Ah, you’re so cute.” He cups your cheek and pecks your lips, making you squeal and butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I got my baby a gift. Let me get comfortable before you open it.”

He passes you a box out of his bag. It’s slightly jingling, and you have no idea what Seungmin got you. You move out of his way, allowing Seungmin to go to your shared bedroom to get changed out of his outside clothes. He comes back to the living room in baggy sweatpants and a loose tee-shirt, but no matter what he wore, he looked good. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here for Christmas, so I thought I’d get you something special.”

Seungmin spent Christmas with Stray Kids while you spent Christmas with your family, and it was going to be your first Christmas together before business arose and Seungmin had to stay in Seoul. Although you were both disappointed, you had your own mini-Christmas before you left for the holiday. You didn’t expect Seungmin to get you another gift, but any gift is always welcomed. 

You tear open the wrapping, tossing it in the general direction of the trashcan, and slide open the box. What you’re holding in your hands almost makes you jump back, but your mind’s too busy thinking of how to use it to react. Your hands grip the leather straps, and the large silicone ball rests in the middle. Your eyes go wide as you look up to Seungmin. His eyes are glued to you, waiting for any sort of response. 

“Is this too much?” His voice cracked, and he was clearly concerned by your reaction. You had similar kinks to each other, but he thought he finally found something that scared you, and that made his heartache. He was supposed to protect you, be the best dominant ever, but he felt like he took it too far. “I’m sorry, I can-”

“Please use it.” You cut him off mid-sentence, hoping to wash his worries away. If your wavering voice wasn’t enough, your puppy eyes surely sold the point home. “I want you to use this on me.”

“Baby,” Seungmin takes the gag from your hands and fiddles with the latch, calculating what to do next, “are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m totally sure.” You take his hands in yours, him dropping the ball gag on the couch along with the gift box. “I want this.”

“Aright, sweetheart.” He pecks your lips again, this time slightly longer and needier than before. You knew he wanted to go farther in that moment, but he wanted to keep you wanting more. “Go to the bedroom. I’ll clean this off before we use it.”

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

You patiently waited for Seungmin, spreading yourself on the bed half naked, only wearing your sheer, dark red panties that he loves to tear off of you. The few days away from each other quickly caught up to your libido and you felt a powerful sense of neediness take over every part of your body, like you were in a trance to only think about Seungmin and what he could do to your body. When he walked into the bedroom, your eyes were shut and your hand played with your cunt over your underwear.

“Ah, couldn’t wait, huh?” Seungmin leans down to kiss you, not removing your hand from your pussy or even mentioning that you should. He let you get yourself off in the slightest way for a moment before getting on top of you, pulling your wrists over your head and finally matching your gaze with his. “Before I put this in, I want to feel your pretty lips on mine.” 

Although he mentioned your lips, your make out quickly turned into a tongue-on-tongue mess, spit slowly coating your lips and drool seeping out the side of your mouth. Seungmin’s hands felt your sides, caressing your waist and chest. His fingers gently circled your nipples before twisting and pulling lightly, making you groan lightly into the kiss. He knew all your sweet spots like the back of his hand, and he intended on proving this to you over the course of the night. 

Seungmin finally pulled away from your mouth, looking down at you as you pouted from the loss. The smirk that formed on his face was devilish, but knowing he was turned on from just a short make out session was enough to make your cunt soak through your panties. 

“Open wide, princess.” His pet names always made you melt, and before your brain could comprehend what he was trying to do, your jaw had pliantly gone slack for him to wrap the leather straps around your head and settle the ball between your lips. Once the gag was fastened, he sat back and looked at the beautiful view under him: you. He was almost swooning before his dick twitched in his pants, reminding him on the task at hand. “You’re gonna stay nice and quiet for me, right?”

Without thinking, you try to squeak out a yes only to be muffled by the silicon ball which is quickly becoming covered in your spit from your resting tongue. Nothing this, you nod urgently, slightly lifting your hips for him to take your soaked panties off.

“Oh, and you wore my favorite pair. How thoughtful.” Seungmin’s left hand holds down your hips while his right hand swipes over your panties, applying pressure to your aching cunt. He can feel how wet you are, but he still wants to play with you before giving you what you so desperately desire. He presses his impressive bulge into your cunt, making you writhe from the stimulation that just isn’t enough for you to feel satisfied. To make matters worse (or better), you couldn’t even tell Seungmin how much of a tease he was being. All you could do was lay back and pray that he’d stuff his cock into you eventually.

You move your hands from above your head to your legs, helping spread them for your boyfriend to get a better angle at your cunt, but he swiftly slaps you away and moves your hands back over your head. Seungmin tsks, unsure whether or not he should get the rope out to keep your arms bound above your head. 

“Good girls keep their hands to themselves, right?” Again, you nod like your life depended on it. “Then keep your hands there, unless my baby wants to be punished?”

You shook your head left to right, hopefully displaying just how much you didn’t want to get punished. As much of a masochist as you were, at this moment in time, you just wanted to cum as many times as Seungmin would allow you to. 

“Mmm, good girl.” He grinds into you again, rolling his hips against your clothed pussy, making sure your fully saturated panties leave a wet mark on his sweatpants. He hisses, cock painfully pressing against the fabric of his pants. Luckily, he didn’t bother wearing boxers. He knew how happy you would be to see him, after all. “You want my cock, baby?” 

High-pitched moans left your throat, and while they were being muffled, they were well loud enough for Seungmin to get the idea. Once more, you lift your hips, and this time Seungmin pulls your panties down by the center and throws them to the side, quickly followed by his shirt. You get an incredible view of his sculpted abs, and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world knowing you were the only one who got to see them. 

“If you want my cock so bad, you’re gonna have to beg for it.” Your eyes go wide as he laughs sadistically, fully realizing what he just said before he even said it. You jerk your hips up and down, pressing against his raging boner that was still concealed under his pants. Even though he was covered, the imprint from his cock made you want him more, as if that was possible. You could perfectly see the outline of his cock, and the darkened area around his tip pinpointed just how big his cock was. 

He shimmies his sweatpants down just enough to reveal his V line. Just before you can see where his happy trail ends, he stops. The whines coming from you can’t be silenced by the gag, and your pathetic noises are music to his ears. 

“I’m gonna fuck you raw.” His eyes squint at you, taking careful note of every expression you make. Your eyes threaten to roll back in your head at just the thought, but you still attempt to show some semblance of control. “You like being filled with my cum, huh? You like when I make you leak my cum like the little whore you are?” 

You moan in response to every question, but your eyes stay focused on his hands resting on the waistband of his pants. When he runs out of ways to tease you with his words, he kicks his sweatpants off, his long cock hitting his abs and falling back into Seungmin’s hand. He strokes himself a few times, groaning from his own touch. He looked like a Greek god, and you ate up every bit of it. 

“Is my little girl ready?” No matter what, Seungmin always liked to remind you of how small you looked compared to him. He loved to ruin your little body, even gloating to his friends that you’re so tiny compared to him. It wasn’t even just his height, it was also how his cock made you feel like you were being split in half. As painful as it could be, you loved every minute of it. “I’m not gonna hold back, baby.”

Seungmin pushes into you, going balls deep within seconds. He holds himself deep inside you, watching your face contort from the indescribable mix of pain and pleasure. His hands hold your hips before moving up to squeeze your waist and rub your stomach over the evident indent of his cock rearranging your organs. 

“Fuck, s-so tight.” He felt like he was about to snap, pressing lightly down onto your stomach to feel your walls enclose on him even more. When he started to thrust, things only got more difficult. You rolled your hips in sync with his, the sounds and scent of sex filling your stuffy bedroom on the cold winter night. Seungmin’s moans were always so pretty, and tonight was no exception. If anything, they sounded even nicer than before, but that also might have just been the added feeling of having him violate your pussy like he owned your body. The drag of his cock against your walls made you throw your head back with the pleasure becoming overwhelming in an instant. With your neck exposed, Seungmin took the opportunity to gently wrap his hand around your throat, pressing into the sides to make you choke just enough for you to tighten around him. 

You felt a familiar knot tighten in your core, and you knew you were close. If you could beg for Seungmin, you would, but given the circumstances, all you could do was sloppily moan and hope he understood, which by the convulsions of your pussy around him, he did understand. His eyes went from your bulging stomach to your face. There were tear stains running down your cheeks, and you looked so pitiful and desperate. The sight alone made him stop his thrusts so he didn’t cum, but he soon got back in the rhythm of punching your cervix with his tip. 

“Cum on my cock, pretty girl.” His hand that wasn’t on your neck went to play with your clit, his fingers circling the bud in the same rhythm as his hips thrusting into you. Your eyes were begging to him, wordlessly displaying all of your neediness with only a glance. “Show me how much you missed me.”

Nearly on cue, the knot in your stomach snapped, sending you over the edge with an intense orgasm. Your cunt clenched and convulsed around Seungmin’s twitching cock. His pace never let up: mercilessly fucking you through your orgasm. Every nerve was on end, and you felt like you were on cloud nine before crashing back down to Earth with the feeling of painful overstimulation that you loved so much. It didn’t last long, though. Seungmin shot his cum while he was bottomed out inside you, coating your walls in his milky white seed. He huffed and cursed as he held your body to his, stilling inside you onto to fuck his cum inside you once he was finished unloading. When he pulled out, his spurts of cum leaked down onto the bed from your fucked-out hole, and it looked so hot, Seungmin almost got hard again. 

“Lean up, princess.” You raised your head off the bed for Seungmin to release you from the gag, placing the toy on your bedside table. “Let me clean you up.” 

Seungmin disappears into the bathroom and returns with a dampened wash rag to wipe the sweat from your forehead and clean the mixture of cum from your cunt. All you could do was lay there and accept the gracious care from your loving boyfriend.

He tossed the rag on the floor and collapsed next to you, pulling you close and nuzzling into you. The smell of his cologne was now mixed with sweat and musk, but you didn’t mind. He held you like he never wanted to let you go, like you were his forever, and in his mind, you were. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/n.” He kisses your forehead and pets the hair away from your face, revealing your glimmering eyes. Despite what just happened minutes prior, you felt like the most loved woman on the planet. 

“Merry Christmas, Seungmin.”

[justanotherlifeff]

You hated Bakugou Katsuki with every single fiber of your body. Yes, at the moment, you were running around on the streets, trying to find the site at which Bakugou was currently fighting a villain. You had finally taken it upon yourself to stop the angry blond from ruining his reputation any further by intervening whenever he had to deal with the press. Which basically meant, you had to track him during his patrols, find out where the hell he is fighting a villain and be there to stop him from running his mouth. Thanks to that, the press has now recognized as ‘the mom assistant’ as the news articles said, much to Bakugou’s irritation.

“Bakugou-kun!” you yelled, catching the blonde’s attention as he was close to starting an argument with the reporter talking to him. “Why the fuck do you always have to butt in?” Bakugou yelled at you, clearly furious, possibly because of something the reporter said. “Well, cause you need to keep your mouth in check!” you snapped at him before smiling at the reporter and saying, “Sorry sir, we’ll have to cut this short” and pulled Bakugou out of the crowd. “Stop pulling me dimwit!” Bakugou barked, yet letting you take him away despite his ability to yank you off. “Well, do you think Deku-san is gonna yell at reporters? Why do you think you never cross him at the popularity poll? Fan votes aren’t everything you know. We both want you to be the number 1, Bakugou-kun” you lectured him, something that worked every single time somehow.

Bakugou only let out a small grunt in reply, liking the fact that you always told him that you wanted him to be the number 1. In fact, he started the argument with the reporter only to have you lecture him. He had been causing way more trouble for you than usual just to hear you say how much you want him to be the number 1, since his ego, which was as big as an entire dinosaur, did not allow him to just ask you to praise him. Little did he know, it only made you more overworked, more frustrated with him.

Yes, you were absolutely hopeless on how to deal with his PR issues. The fact that you had a rather personal connection to his antics did not help either. You were wondering whether your plan to spend more time with him was a mistake, but, you did not have the heart to stop all that meaningless cooking sessions, which were not really cooking sessions anymore, but more like just hanging out together at your apartment, watching random stuff on the TV while eating whatever food he helped you cook up. Sometimes, he would ask you to show up at his regular gym with food and you would just wait there and watch him work out. The two of you would talk, and sometimes he would help you work out as well since “you can’t possibly protect yourself with that noodle arms dumbass!”.

You were at home, at 12am, thinking about possible solutions to handling a way more troublesome Bakugou, when you got a call from the team leader of his PR team. “What the fuck did he do again?” you wondered as you picked the call up. “What did he do now?” you asked, frustration clear in his voice. “Check Chargebolt’s Instagram. We are currently contacting his PR team to take down the post but seems like Chargebolt hacked into it pretty well. I’m surprised that someone as dumb as him was able to do something like that. I need you to find Bakugou and Chargebolt and get rid of the post before any further damage is done.” Was all he said before hanging up. “Damn, it must be bad…” you muttered as you got into Chargebolt’s profile. And damn, it really was bad.

The picture was of a very drunk Bakugou, who was smiling smugly at the camera. However, that wasn’t the bad part. The bad part was the two girls on both his laps, two girls who had claimed to have slept with Bakugou in the past, something you had a hard time handling, both as an assistant and as someone who was unfortunate enough to be in love with Bakugou Katsuki himself. “OH, HELL NO! NOT ON MY WATCH!” You gritted your teeth, obviously tired of his bullshit, as you slipped into some decent clothes and ran to catch the train closest to the address of nightclub that his PR team texted you about.

As soon as you reached, the bouncer stopped you, as he thought that you were a random civilian trying to get into the heroes only club. “I’m Bakugou Katsuki’s assistant. I’ve got my ID card. I need to talk to him urgently.” You told him, showing your ID card. “I’m sorry ma’am, I’m not allowed to let anyone who’s not a hero in.” the bouncer answered calmly. “Well, then I’m sorry about this.” You muttered before making a run towards the entrance, without giving the bouncer the chance to catch you. For once, you were thankful to your brat of a boss for making sure you had the stamina to run fast, thanks to tracking him all over the city for the last few months.

Thankfully, you found him quite fast, still with those two obnoxious fangirls as you charged towards him. “BAKUGOU FUCKING KATSUKI, WE NEED TO FUCKING TALK!” You snarled at him. “Damnnnn, you get all the hotties don’tcha Kacchan?” you heard Chargebolt laugh from a chair nearby, having a drink. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Bakugou asked, not even hiding the blush as he found you being angry immensely attractive. However, you were not looking at him at the moment. In fact, you were glaring so hard at Kaminari that if you had an eye lazer quirk, he’d be dead five times over.

“You, delete that fucking post. NOW!” you scolded the now scared lightening hero. “Damn… Okay okay I’m doing it jeez! You’re scarier than Bakugou wtf?” Kaminari chuckled nervously as he deleted the post with shaky hands. “Good. I’ll make sure your PR team gives you hell if you pull any shit like this again.” You gave the nervous man one last glare before directing all your wrath to Bakugou.

For once, he was smart enough to ditch the fangirls, knowing very well that pissing you off now would not end well, no matter how hot you look at the moment. “You, are coming with me.” You told him quietly, venom in your voice. The bouncer finally found you at that moment and tried to apologize to Bakugou about letting you in, however, Bakugou muttering a small “it’s fine” to him told him all about you in an instant. The pro hero never spoke quietly, which only meant that you must be important enough to interrupt his night.

“You’re too drunk to drive. Gimme your keys.” You muttered as you got out of the club with a rather tame looking Bakugou. “You can drive?” he asked, to which you snapped, “Just cause I don’t have a car doesn’t mean I can’t drive, asshole!”. To that, he simply handed over the keys to his Lamborghini to you, which you used to unlock his car and get in. Bakugou got into the passenger’s seat and after a brief moment of uncomfortable silence, he asked, “So, where are we going?” to which you answered, “your penthouse.”. “How the fuck do you know my address?” he asked. “I’m your assistant, Bakugou.” You answered, not looking at him.

The rest of the ride passed in a tense silence as you finally reached the parking lot of his penthouse. After putting his car in the designated area, you decided that enough was enough. You did not want to deal with these feelings anymore. You did not want to deal with situations where he looked at other women the way you wanted him to look at you. You decided that you should rip the bandage then and there. “Bakugou, I wanna quit the job. I’ll bring the resignation letter tomorrow.” You muttered.

To say that Bakugou was in shock was an understatement. “What? What the fuck? Why?” he asked, not hiding the hurt expression on his face. “I can’t take this anymore. Do you even realize how much trouble you cause? Why did I have to show up at a random high class night club today, run from the bouncer, shout at another top pro hero to delete YOUR picture with some random women all because you can’t keep it in your pants? Why do you constantly cause all that PR nightmare? It’s only gotten worse since I started cooking for you. One moment, you try to show up at my home to hang out for no reason and then you go through all the effort to make life harder for me. What do you want from me, Bakugou? Have I done anything wrong? Honestly, this is exactly why Deku is the number 1 hero and you’re not. If I were Deku’s assistant, he wouldn’t have….” Your voice cracked but you were stopped by Bakugou.

“You’re not his assistant. Don’t fucking say good things about him. You’re mine, (Y/N). Not Deku’s, not anyone’s, but mine.” Bakugou growled possessively. “I’m not yours, Bakugou. Those girls you sleep with on a daily basis, they are yours. I don’t want to be with someone who fucks around with random women who throw themselves at them.” You snapped back and for once, Bakugou realized that he messed up.

At the beginning, Bakugou always did as he pleased as 1, his fans loved whatever the hell he did and 2, he got his dick wet so basically, it was always a win-win situation for him. After you fell into his life (quite literally), he found out that he should do as he pleases as 1, again, his fans loved whatever the hell he did and 2, his overinflated ego wouldn’t let him confess his feelings towards you, which is why, it started as him trying to deny his feelings by fucking someone else and later, when he realized that it wasn’t working, he stopped the fucking, but pretended that he didn’t stop it, assuming that you would get jealous and confess to him first. However, now he realized that he judged the situation completely wrong.

“I won’t change what I said, (L/N). You’re mine. I’m saying that, considering everything you just said to me.” Bakugou answered after a brief pause. “So, you’re trying to tell me that you did not sleep with anyone.” You asked him with a deadpan expression. “I stopped two months ago. Pikachu posted that picture because I asked him to. I wanted you to think that I didn’t stop. You can ask all my friends about it.” Bakugou muttered, looking clearly embarrassed. “And why the fuck would you want me to think you’re fucking around?” you asked him, clearly confused. “So that you confess first…” Bakugou muttered, looking away in embarrassment.

The two of you sat there in silence before you busted out laughing. “OI! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LAUGHING ABOUT?” Bakugou yelled at you, his face completely red, making you laugh even harder. “My God, you’re such a tsundere!” you somehow choked out before wheezing due to laughter. Bakugou just sat there like a sulking child till you were done laughing.

“So, you’re mine. That’s settled right?” Bakugou asked you grumpily, as soon as you caught your breath. “You know, out of all the ways I expected you to ask me out, this was definitely not something I expected, and yet, somehow, this sounds exactly like something you’d do.” You chuckled softly. Bakugou only grunted as an answer. A rather comfortable silence fell between the two of you before it was interrupted yet again by Bakugou.

“So, you didn’t say if it was settled or not.” He grumbled. “Yessir, it’s settled.” You answered. A moment later, he asked again, “So, you’re not leaving the job, right?”. “Nope, I’m not.” You answered. Another brief moment later, he demanded, “Tell me that I’m better than Deku.”. “I will, if you behave.” You answered with a smile, to which he replied, “Fuck you”. “Well, then I won’t call you better than Deku” you answered with a sickly-sweet smile, making him pop a vein on his forehead. “Say it!” he barked, only to have you reply, “Deku is better than…” before you were cut off by a kiss.

You absolutely hated Bakugou Katsuki. Yes, you totally hated the fact that he won your heart. Right.

A/N: THERE WILL BE SMUT ON THE NEXT CHAPTER.

Taglist: @bonbonthedragon @the2ndl

[stilloutofmyvulcanmind]

Light From The Shadow Part 3

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings

Pairing:  Aragorn /Reader

Characters: Reader, Aragorn, Gandalf, Elrond

Word Count: 1785

Warning: Talk of death and torture

Author’s Note: Heyyyyy anyone remember this? It’s been a hot two years minute, right? But I was re-reading the first two parts, and it inspired me, so here it is, part 3 at long last! I hope there are people out there who are still interested, and if you want to see the rest, let me know!

Cath up here: Part 1 Part 2

The sound of footsteps was familiar to you by now. It was easy to tell who was approaching your cell, and even what their intentions were. Usually, it was soldiers bringing meals and seething insults. Occasionally it was Mithrandir, trying to prise words of your past from you. The Elf Lord Elrond had visited once, but he had done nothing other than stare at you with intensity for several hours. It was none of them who approached now. No, the footsteps belonged to Isildur’s Heir, Aragorn. He had appeared often enough over the last few weeks, sitting outside your cell and regaling you of tales of this ‘Y/N’ he still seemed to believe you were. The things he said meant nothing, the lands, and people he described calling forth no memories or thoughts of emotion. They were strangers to your mind, and despite your constant reaffirmations of that, Aragorn refused to give in or even stop.

He came into view in front of you, wearing a simple green tunic and brown slacks, looking nothing like the King he now was, except for the sword that hung from his belt. That was something he did not usually have. He stopped, looking down to where you sat on your thin bed. “What is your name?”

It was the same question he always asked, still clinging to the hope you would suddenly start believing you were someone you weren’t. “My name is Asgareth, as it always has been, and always will be.”

Aragorn sighed, standing in silence as he watched you for a few moments longer. “It is clear now that my words are of no use here. Whatever is preventing you from remembering the person you truly are is stronger than any tale of times gone by,” he said, taking the key he held in his hand and using it to unlock the cell door. 

Your eyes travelled back to his blade as he stepped inside, wondering if he was finally going to kill you and end this tedium. But then he knelt down in front of you and swiftly released the shackle that sat around your ankle. The action took by such surprise that you found no chance to attack before he stood back in front of you, grasping the chain that bound your wrists together.

“What are you doing?” You asked, watching him closely. “If this is to be some drawn-out execution, do not bother. Kill me now and end this hell.”

“No. I have not yet given up on you, Y/N. Words alone cannot bring you back, so perhaps something physical will. Come.” Tugging on the chain, Aragorn pulled you forward, leaving you with no choice other than to follow him. 

Your steps echoed quietly off the stone as he led you past the other cells and upon out of the dungeon. You did not fail to miss the looks you received from the guards that lined the halls, or the way their fingers twitched on the hilt of their blades. Each and every one would rather slay you on sight than see you walk along the halls they’d fought to protect. You kept your head up high, meeting the gaze of every man who dated meet yours. They all looked away first. 

It was out onto an open training space Aragorn brought you. High over the city with only one door. You smiled. Despite his honeyed words, it was clear Aragorn did not trust you. There were no other soldiers in the area, but Mithrandir and Elrond stood to one side, watching you both. 

They neither approached or spoke as Aragorn led you to a table in the center of the room. On it lay three weapons. A dagger, a blade, and a bow. Finely crafted, they were both unknown to you yet somehow familiar, as though you’d once seen them long ago. 

“These once belonged to you,” Aragorn said. “We recovered them from Angmar after your disappearance, and I made sure to always keep them well in your memory.”

Aragorn was watching you, clearly waiting to see if you had some sort of reaction. “These cannot be mine. I have only ever fought with a blade.”

“You are one of the best bowmen I have ever seen. Your skill matched that of the elves.”

You looked back at the bow, long and sleek with a perfect curve. The wood was dark and obviously well cared for. Something deep inside you itched to touch it. “You are mistaken. I have never touched a bow.”

“Then try it now.” Aragorn moved swiftly and you found the shackles around your wrists falling free. 

“Aragorn!” Elrond was immediately moving forwards but halted when Aragorn raised a hand. 

“She will not harm me, my lord. I know it.”

Neither Elrond nor Mithrandir seemed convinced, and you could see they were prepared to move swiftly should you make the slightest wrong move. It was tempting. You eyed the hilt of the blade. Perhaps you could end Aragorn’s life before they retaliated. You would die, yes, but it would be worth it. 

You reached for it. 

Instead, your hand closed around the bow. 

It was a light but sturdy weight in your hand as you ran the fingers of the other over the wood. You knew you had never picked up a bow before, but why did it feel so right? Like greeting an old friend? 

“Try,” Aragorn said again, offering you an arrow as he pointed towards a target at the end of the room. 

He was handing you his death on a platter. Even with no experience, you could use the bow to kill him at such a close range. It would be easy. Possibly the easiest death you’d ever earned. 

You found yourself sliding the arrow into place on instinct, the bow singing as you released it towards the target. The arrow struck the middle. 

Next to you, Aragorn smiled. “I knew there was a part of you trapped inside somewhere. I should have thought of this sooner.”

The bow clattered as you dropped it to the ground, taking a step back from it. “I do not know what magic this is, but I will not fall for it! I am Asgareth! And I serve the true Lord Sauron! As I always have and always will! Your cheap tricks will not convince me otherwise!" 

"Y/N-" 

"No!” You dived for the sword, but Aragorn was quicker. He grabbed you, his hold on you secure as he brought you to your knees. 

“Remember!" 

"Never!” You fought him, but he won out and you found yourself shackled once more. “Kill me!" 

"I will not." 

Aragorn took the chain back into his hands and led you silently back to your cell. He stood inside it with you still, simply watching. He looked sad you noticed. Why did some deep part of you twist at that revelation? 

"I had not planned on revealing this to you yet. I feared it might be too much to learn in your current state, but I see now that I have no other choice. If this does not bring you back to me, then nothing shall.” Aragorn reached under his shirt and pulled a silver chain over his head. Hanging in the middle was a ring with an emerald stone set in the centre. Aragorn removed it and held it up for you to see better. “Do you know it?" 

"No.”

He sighed. “It belonged to my Mother. A gift from my Father when they became betrothed. I in turn presented it to you when you agreed to marry me.”

Marry? No. You could never have been betrothed to this…this ranger. It was impossible. “You are saying-" 

"We loved one another.”

You shook your head. “Now I know that you trick me for there is no path I would ever walk that could possibly lead to me loving the likes of you.”

Aragorn had the strength of will not to flinch, but you saw the pain in his eyes at your words. “You know not what you say.” He stepped closer, taking your hand in his and refusing to let go when you jerked back. “Wear it. Remember,” he whispered, slipping the ring onto your finger. It was a perfect fit. “Remember.”

Then he was gone and the cell door locked once more. 

“I cannot,” you said. 

“You must. You must, my love.”

He left you then, and you slid to the floor, back pressed against the cold wall. You stared down at the green gem gleaming up at you, the weight of it on your finger feeling both foreign and disturbingly familiar. What he said was impossible. It had to be. Marriage? Love? They were things not designed for you. Your only purpose was to serve. Your only goal to win battles. What Aragorn suggested was so much more. More than what you were. More than you deserved.

Your head hurt. A splitting pain seared across your forehead. The candlelight was too bright. The echo of footsteps and the incessant drip of water too loud. Scrunching your eyes closed, you placed your hands over your ears to drown it all out. 

The pain got worse. 

It was too much. 

Images flashed behind your eyes. 

Fighting a man so much larger than yourself with a wooden sword. You knocked his from his hand and he cheered, picking you up and swinging you through the air. You were laughing. 

The same man, but now a woman joined him. They smiled as they handed you a small bow. 

Meeting a young man with kind eyes and a handsome face. He smiled at you when your arrow split through his own. 

Travelling with him. You crossed mountains and great plains and forests together. Fought back to back. Tended to each other’s wounds. 

Sitting on a high hill under the stars. The way he looked at you made your heart flutter. He asked you a question. You laughed and said yes. He presented you with the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen, the emerald glittering in the moonlight. 

A long journey to a dark land. Fear filling the air. An attack. Screams. 

A cell. 

Dark. Alone. Pain. 

A figure. 

Your Lord. 

No. 

Not your lord. Monster. Evil. Enemy.

You screamed as the pain in your head worsened, fingers tangling in your hair and pulling. You screamed and screamed unable to stop. More memories. More pain. 

“Y/N!" 

Someone took you in their arms, strong and secure. Safe. You prised your eyes open, looking up at his face through blurred vision. It had been so many years. Too long. Your betrothed. Your love. 

"Aragorn.”

[dannystattoo]

‘tis the damn season

Pairing: Jamie x Dani (The Haunting of Bly Manor)

Word Count: 7,191

Warnings: None, other than it’s a little cheesy. Also, I haven’t written anything in five years, so if I’m a little rusty, sorry ‘bout that. 

AU, Dani and Jamie broke up, Dani goes back to America and finds herself back in England for Hannah and Owen’s wedding (this is my AU and I refuse to let Hannah die). Of course, the au pair and the gardener cross paths and hometown yearning AU comences. Loosely based on the song “tis the damn season” by Taylor Swift, but it took on it’s own life after a bit.   Also, image above is not mine 

It had been years since Dani had set foot in the countryside near Bly Manor, let alone anywhere in England. Her au pair job hadn’t worked out, so she’d gone back to America. Then again, to say the job itself hadn’t worked out was a bit of a misstatement. The job had always been fine and the kids had been, as Flora would say “perfectly splendid” (after the whole possession thing, anyway). No, the real problem was she had been foolish enough to fall for someone else who worked at the Manor alongside her.

After everything that happened with the Lady in the Lake, everyone had understandably left Bly Manor. Henry took guardianship of the children, though Dani still helped care for them quite often. Owen and Hannah finally gotten their chance to move back to Paris for a time before coming back to the countryside to be closer to Owen’s mother. Owen had also finally opened the restaurant he’d always dreamt of, which had been a massive success.  This left Dani and Jamie, who moved closer to town, specifically to Jamie’s apartment over the “boring old pub”. Some might say things moved a little quickly, but given everything that had taken place over the summer, it seemed like the logical next step. Staring death in the face really has a way of bringing people together after all. They’d opened The Leafling after sometime and everything seemed perfect, at least for the first year anyway.

While it was true the events at Bly Manor had brought Jamie and Dani to realize how strong their feelings for each other truly were, dealing with the aftermath of those events presented some challenges to say the least. Despite having escaped the Lady in the Lake, Dani had a constant, nagging worry she was going to come back for her at any moment. Try as she might to move on with life, to enjoy her newfound romance with the gardener, she simply couldn’t. She was always sleeping with one eye open, looking behind her everywhere she went, constantly fearing Viola would come not only for her, but possibly Jamie as well. Or worse yet, knowing that Viola could possess her victims, what if she caused Dani to bring any harm to Jamie? In the end, her fears and worries caused her  to distance herself from Jamie. Jamie did everything she could to let Dani know she didn’t need to do this, that whatever happened, they were in it together, but Dani couldn’t bring herself to listen.

One night, Dani dreamt that Viola had overtaken her completely. Viola used Dani as a vessel to continue unleashing rage and carnage on the world, and forced Dani to strangle Jamie in her sleep. Even after waking and being assured by her girlfriend numerous times it was only a dream; she was fine, they were fine, everyone was fine, it didn’t matter. Dani broke things off a few days later, not giving any explanation even though they both knew the reason. The two had gone their separate ways, both completely heartbroken. Dani convinced herself everyday she’d done the right thing. She tried to continue living in Essex for a while, but in the end, she went back stateside, trying her hardest to leave all the trauma of Bly behind.

That was two years ago. Now here she was, driving back into the town she’d run so far to get away from. Hannah and Owen were getting married after how many years of pining after each other. Despite knowing she’d have to face Jamie again after cutting contact two years before, there was no way she would miss out on the wedding. As she rode in the back of the car Henry had kindly arranged to come pick her up, she began to pick up on familiar sights through fogged up windows. Then she saw it: the pub, and if she saw the pub, that meant Jamie’s apartment was just above it. Well, what had been her apartment anyway. It had been a while and it was entirely possible she’d moved out of there by now. Was she even still in Bly? Why did she care so much? She was the one who had broken things off and had convinced herself that both she and Jamie were better off.  

Her question was answered pretty quickly though; at least she thought it was. While she couldn’t see her face, Dani saw the silhouette of a woman with dark shoulder length curls, dressed very similarly to how she knew Jamie to dress. Dani felt a longing ache the second she made the connection. The woman looked back at the passing car and for a second, Dani could have sworn the two of them made eye contact. It was almost certainly Jamie, and this was proof that Dani wasn’t truly over her despite pretending everyday.

At that very moment, Jamie was indeed heading up to her apartment. The flower shop had been closed for the day, a little early due to the obligations that went along with Hannah and Owen’s upcoming wedding. She was leaving the store in the complete care of one of the associates she’d hired on after Dani left - it was the first time she’d left the store in someone else’s hands for more than a day or two and she couldn’t stop overthinking through the list of things she’d dreamt up to go wrong. Her anxiety over the upcoming wedding wasn’t helping any either. Owen had given fair warning that Dani would be invited to the wedding, and a few weeks ago she’d received confirmation that Dani was coming over from America just for the occasion.

Jamie would be lying if she said she didn’t still have feelings for Dani. She tried every god damn day to remind herself of all the pain the au pair had caused her, running out when Jamie wanted nothing more than to be there for her. It never worked though; she’d remember everything Dani was going through at the time and Jamie would find herself justifying her actions, justifying her distancing herself, justifying her leaving as abruptly as she did. Jamie had tried going on a few dates since their breakup, but no one had ever caught her attention beyond a few dates and that regrettable one night stand shortly after Dani left. It also didn’t help that the lesbian population of the town was almost non-existent. That’s how she found herself being set up with one of Hannah’s friend’s sisters a while back, who was now her plus one. If she was being honest, Jamie would have much preferred to go alone as she didn’t see this relationship going anywhere. However, the conversation of going to the wedding together had come up months ago, Jamie had mentioned it to her way too soon, and now here she was stuck in this predicament.  God, how she wished this weekend would just be over already.

As Jamie began to ascend the steps to her apartment, she saw a car pass by, one with a woman who looked suspiciously like Dani in the backseat. She experienced such a longing ache, not unlike the one Dani had experienced at the same moment. She swore they made the briefest eye contact, but she couldn’t be sure. It was probably her imagination playing tricks on her. Seeing as the rehearsal dinner was in just a few hours, she’d have see Dani sooner than later anyway.

When Dani arrived at the Wingraves, who had offered to host her on her stay, no one was home - Henry would be at work for a few more hours and the kids were still a little while out from being finished with school. There was a spare key left under the mat that Dani used to let herself in. She dropped her stuff in the spare bedroom she’d used on numerous occasions before while watching the children and decided she didn’t want to sit in the house and think about how much she was dreading seeing her ex again after the way things had ended. She decided to change and walk to the quaint downtown area to grab some food, seeing as she was starving after the long flight. Dani should have realized that going downtown would only make her more likely to run into Jamie. On some level, maybe it’s what Dani was hoping for. Within minutes, the two ran into each other.

“Pop-Dani, that you?”

“Um, yeah, yeah it is,” Dani said awkwardly, clearly not expecting to run into Jamie so soon.

“What brings you out this way?”Jamie asked after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

“I just got into town a little bit ago. Figured I’d come and get some food before the Wingraves get back to the house - you know, after the long flight and all.”

“The kids will be happy to see you, I reckon.”

“I sure hope so, it’s been a while,” Dani paused for a moment. “So what about you? What are you doing out this way?”

“I mean, I still live in the same apartment just down the street, but I was getting everything ready for tonight, realized I needed to run to the drug store and pick up a few things.” Dani simply nodded.

“Would you, um, would you want to -“ Dani gestured to the restaurant, her mouth clearly working faster than her brain. It took Jamie a second to register what she was asking, especially given the last time they’d seen each other.

“Oh - no, much as I’d love to, I really need to freshen up before tonight. I think I may be having drinks with a…friend of Hannah’s before dinner. A friends she’s been trying to set me up with for ages.”

Dani nodded, having no idea how to respond. Not that she hadn’t expected Jamie to move on after their breakup, but she was more upset about her mentioning this than she could have anticipated, especially as casually as she did. She knew she was overreacting, but if Dani had wanted to know what was going on in Jamie’s love life since she’d left, she would have asked.

“Ok. Well, I hope that works out for you,” Dani finally said after a moment. “I guess I’ll um, I guess I’ll see you at dinner tonight?”

“Yeah, i’ll see you at dinner.”

The rehearsal dinner was painful, much more painful than Dani could have imagined. Sure, it had been wonderful to see Owen and Hannah after so many years, but as always happens with weddings, it’s impossible to see the couple for more than a few minutes. She tried her best to enjoy her time with Henry, Flora, and Miles, but it was hard to do seeing Jamie there with another woman. The restaurant was small and there was nowhere to get away. It also didn’t help that the kids, too young to really understand that the two would not want to see each other, had a way of continually calling Jamie’s attention over to their table. Both women were doing their best to act as though they weren’t both horribly uncomfortable. Thankfully the second the food was served, all the mingling came to a halt and the gardener and the au pair were seated on opposite sides of the room once again; and once dinner was through, the party dissipated rather quickly as they would be losing the event space soon -thank god.

Dani was beyond ready to get back to the house, but she stupidly offered to stay and help clean up the banquet room. She tried to look on the bright side, telling herself it might afford her a few more minutes to catch up with her old friends. Clean up was quick, and before they knew it, they were dumping the last of the loose ends in the back of Owen’s car.

“Dani! Glad I caught you before you left,” Hannah approached as Dani, who was trying to wrestle an usually large gift bag into the trunk. “Any plans for the rest of the night?”

“Can’t say that I have any- why, what do you have up your sleeve?”

“Nothing much, we thought it might be fun to have a small nightcap at the pub downtown. It’s so disappointing you traveled all this way after so long and I’ve barely been able to chat with you. It’s absolutely expected, but still.”

Dani thought on it for moment, nearly declining as she knew Jamie would likely be invited too and there’d be no getting away from each other in the pub. However, her desire to spend some time with those who had become like family to her over that summer at Bly won out, and she accepted the invitation.

“I think I could swing that. Are you heading straight over?”

“Yeah, there’s nothing that needs to go back to the flat right away. Will you need a ride there? I think there may be space in the backseat as long as you don’t mind wedging yourself in there,” Hannah offered.

“That would be great. I left my jacket and my bag in the banquet room, do you mind if I run and grab them? ”

“Take your time, I think Owen has to take care of another thing or two.”

Dani headed back inside and who should be standing in the middle of the banquet room but Jamie. She was alone though, something Dani hadn’t expected.

“Hey,”Jamie greeted her.

“Hey…I’m just coming to grab my stuff,” Dani said, making her way over to her belongings. She knew she shouldn’t ask, but her curiosity go the better of her.

“So what happened to your date?” she ventured.

“Oh, she left,” Jamie shrugged. “To be honest, I would have been fine doing the whole weekend alone, but you know how it is. Friend tries to set you up with one of their friends, you casually mention the wedding you’re both conveniently invited to, and before you know it, you’ve committed to be her date even though it’s pretty clear nothing’s ever gonna happen between you two.”

“Drinks tonight was just…I don’t know, giving her another chance, I guess,” Jamie explained after noticing Dani’s inquisitive look. “I can’t say it hasn’t been lonely around here since you left. Anyway though, what about you? Anyone waiting over in the states?”

“No, can’t say that there is. I mean, my mother’s been trying to find me a nice boy since i’ve been back but she doesn’t know about the whole gay thing,” Dani explained. “Anyway, I’m assuming you’re going to the nightcap down at pub?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, especially since I live right upstairs. Do you have a ride out that way?”

“Owen and Hannah offered to take me, but I’m not sure they actually have room for me in their car.”

“I can drive you over if you want?” Jamie offered. Dani knew it was probably against her better judgement to accept, but in that moment everything felt just as it had years before. It was comfortable.

“Yeah, that would be great actually.”

From the minute the two women got in Jamie’s pickup, it was as though the last two years had never happened. Once the ice had been broken, it felt like home, though neither of them would admit it. To Dani, it felt even more so once she was at the bar, finally able to chat with Hannah and Owen, hear about their adventures in Paris, and everything they’d been up to since the au pair had last seen them. At that moment, surrounded by her found family from Bly, Dani had no idea why she’d left. Despite everything that had happened here, she couldn’t say she’d ever felt more at home than with these people. For the first time since she’d returned, Dani actually felt at ease. The copious amount of alcohol she’d had since arriving probably also had a bit to do with that.

As the evening wore on, Dani noticed that she and Jamie seemed to be gravitating closer and closer in the small both their group was seated at. All night though, Dani reminded herself it was probably just the alcohol and nothing more. After their long and complicated history, nothing good could come from rekindling their connection. She also had to remind herself she didn’t live here anymore; she had to go back to the States next week. Despite everything she was telling herself, after a few strong drinks and out of instinct, Dani found her hand brushing Jamie’s thigh. Exactly how she used to.  Once she realized what she was doing, she quickly recoiled her hand. Jamie looked over at her, though she didn’t look upset.

“I’m so sorry,” Dani quickly apologized.

“You know, I really don’t mind, Poppins.” Jamie was just getting confirmation of what she’d known all along, even though she tried to pretend it wasn’t the case: she’d never moved on from Dani and honestly, she didn’t want to. Now it was her turn to act against her better judgement. She reached her hand out, fingers grazing Dani’s. She immediately began to think about what a terrible idea this is, but before she could think about it too much, she could feel Dani’s fingers intertwining with hers.  Sure, Dani would be leaving next week. Jamie knew she was setting herself up to get her heart broken all over again. In that moment though, with the love of her life back, if only for the weekend, she didn’t care.

They hadn’t planned it, but Dani, Jamie, Owen, and Hannah stayed at the pub until they were kicked out at close. Some of the other folks who had been invited trickled out earlier, but those four could have stayed for hours more if they were able.

“It’s a damn good thing the wedding isn’t tomorrow, huh?” Jamie laughed.

“You can say that again,” Owen agreed. “Putting a day between the rehearsal and the wedding was one of the best decisions we could have made. Then again, it was fully Hannah’s idea and she known to be full of good ones.”

“Oh stop,” Hannah laughed. “Are you all ok to get home?”

“I just have to go upstairs,” Jamie said. “What about you guys? I know you don’t have far to go, but is one of you able to drive back?”

“I stopped drinking ages ago, I’ll be fine to get us home. Dani, do you want a ride back to the Wingraves?” Owen asked.

“If you don’t mind. I know they live really out of the way but -“

“Did you want to stay here?” Jamie volunteered. The other three looked at her, all equally shocked.

“It just seems easier, is all. I mean, the Wingraves are what, almost thirty minutes away now? It doesn’t make sense for you guys to drive all that way when you’re only five minutes down the road.”

“Jamie, if you’re sure, that sounds great,” Dani said. After saying their goodbyes, the pairs parted ways.

Dani and Jamie made their way up the stairs, stumbling slight as neither of them had sobered up yet.

“Where am I gonna sleep? Your place isn’t that big,” Dani pointed out.

“You good on the sofa?”

“I mean, yeah, I’ll take it but that sofa’s terrible.”

“For your information, I’ve got a new one since you ran off. ‘is better, I swear.”

“I guess it’ll do,” Dani playfully rolled her eyes.

Being back in Jamie’s apartment - what had once been their apartment - was weird. It was slightly uncomfortable, as she couldn’t stop replaying the last time she’d  set foot in this house. On the other hand, just like so many other things over the past few hours, she felt at home. She could still remember all the details of the apartment, noticing what had changed and what had remained the same. Sure enough, there was a new couch in the middle of the living room. Dani plopped down on the sofa, not even bothering to take her shoes off.

“You want to change into something a little more comfy, Poppins?”

“Huh?” Dani looked up at Jamie, already half asleep. She looked down and realized she was indeed still wearing the dress and heels she’d worn to dinner. “I would, but I don’t have anything here. I’ll survive til tomorrow morning.”

“Nonsense - that dress looks amazing on you, but please don’t try to sleep in it. Come ‘ere, let me get you something else.”  Jamie led Dani to her room and went into her dresser drawer. She pulled out a baggy t-shirt and tossed it over to Dani.

“Will that be ok?” Jamie asked.

“This is perfect. Is the bathroom still where it used to be?…I’m sorry, that was such a dumb question, of course your bathroom’s still in the same place. I’m still drunk, I’m sorry. I’m um, I’m gonna go change.” Dani disappeared to the bathroom. Jamie couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. God, she’d missed Dani.

“Damn it, she ran out on you,” Jamie muttered to herself, trying to stop herself from getting too attached to the idea anything might happen between them this weekend. After Jamie changed, she sat on the bed and waited for Dani to finish up in the bathroom.

Oh, fuck, Jamie thought as she looked up and saw Dani emerging from the bathroom. She forgot how good Dani looked wearing her nightshirts and how much of a turn on it was. Unbeknownst to her, similar thoughts are running through Dani’s head. The two sat and stared at each other, clearly both wanting to make a move, but neither having the courage to do it.

Dani moved first, crossing to the other side of the room, grabbing Jamie’s hands and pulling them to her waist. Before Jamie could process what was happening, Dani’s lips were on hers and she found herself leaning into it. After moment though, she forced herself to pull back.

“Dani, we can’t.”

“Ugh, god I’m sorry. I don’t know…I don’t know why I did that. i mean, I do, but I shouldn’t have -“

“No, it’s not that I didn’t want you to,” Jamie sighed. “I’ve been wanting that since you got  here. We’re both drunk though, I can’t do this while we’re drunk. Not to mention we didn’t exactly end on good terms, but that’s not a discussion for right now.”

Dani was silent, though nodding in agreement. After a moment of awkward silence, she started walking towards the bedroom door.

“I’m just um, I’m just gonna go in the living room. I saw some blankets out there, I’ll make myself comfy. G’night, thanks for letting me crash with you.”

“Wait, Dani - would you…would you want to stay in here tonight? I know I shouldn’t do this and I can’t help but think I’m just going to end up getting myself hurt, but god Dani, I’ve missed you.” Dani started at her for a moment, shocked by Jamie’s offer.

“God, I’m sorry, I just made this weirder than it already is. Please, you can say no.”

“I actually wanted to say yes. Are you sure it’s ok?” Jamie nodded, shifting over so there was room for Dani on the bed with her. She made sure to stick to her side of the bed, not daring to cross to Dani’s side right now. Her body fought sleep for a little while before she eventually faded off.

It took the au pair even longer to fall asleep. She had started sobering up and couldn’t stop overthinking the events of the evening. She’d had an amazing time, but this was a mistake. Not only was she clearly going to hurt herself, but now that she knew Jamie hadn’t been able to date anyone since their breakup, she knew whatever happened would likely hurt them both. The more she thought about it, the more she just wished Jamie would have just been dating that other woman. Sure it would have sucked, but at least she wouldn’t have found herself in the predicament she was in now. After what felt like an eternity, Dani eventually fell asleep, her mind still racing.

A few hours later, the sun started poking in through the curtains. Dani woke up, nowhere near rested. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since she’d finally fallen asleep. It also felt she’d been hit by a train. She saw the clock on the nightstand said it was just after 7:00AM and while she wanted to go back to sleep, the pounding headache from her hangover wasn’t allowing her to do that. Dani tried to roll over and make her way to the bathroom to see if she could dig up any pain reliever. She knew where it was once upon a time, hopefully Jamie hadn’t reorganized her bathroom. It was a struggle to get up though; while they had been sleeping, both Jamie and Dani had migrated towards the middle of the bed. Legs were completely tangled and Jamie’s arm had ended up around Dani’s waist. She tried to move it away gently, trying not to wake Jamie in the process.

“Babe, come back to bed,” Jamie said, still very clearly half asleep. Dani sighed when she heard that.

“Sure, call me babe for the weekend,” Dani said under her breath, quiet enough Jamie couldn’t hear her. She returned to bed, hoping that with some relief for her hangover, she’d be able to get a little more sleep. Once again, her mind wouldn’t let her sleep. Watching Jamie sleep, all Dani could think of was the constant regret of running away. The road not travel looked real good now.

Jamie woke up a few hours later to an empty bed. God, how had she slept til noon? She supposed staying out until the wee hours of the morning had something to do with it.  She momentarily forgot Dani had stayed over, but as soon as she remembered she got out of bed to see where the au pair had gone.

“Dani?” she called out.

“I’m in the kitchen! Did you want breakfast? I made eggs and coffee.”

“Sounds great, thanks. How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty well,” Dani lied. “I woke up with a pounding headache around seven though, and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“So that’s why I heard up and about so early. Do you need anything?”

“Nah, I found some ibuprofen and I’m feeling a lot better. The coffee helped too. Do you still take yours with a lot of cream, a little sugar?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jamie was surprised Dani still remembered that after all this time.

“What about you? How did you sleep?”

“Really well once I fell asleep. So what are your plans for the day?”

“I need to get back to the Wingraves. I told Flora and Miles we’d spend the day together today. I should actually go start getting myself presentable again and get going.”

“Do you have a ride out there?” Jamie asked. “I can take you if you need.”

“Only if it isn’t too much trouble. I talked to Henry this morning and he said he can come out here if I need, but I know he has to bring the kids with him if he comes out -“

“It’s ok, Dani, I’ll drive ya. I don’t have anything else going on.” The gardener wouldn’t admit this was also a ploy to spend more time with Dani.

“That would be great if you don’t mind. I’m going to go freshen up and we can go whenever you want.” With that, Dani headed to the bathroom, leaving Jamie alone with her thoughts.  

She couldn’t believe how easily she and Dani had just fallen back into it as if the last two years hadn’t happened. The last twenty four hours were something Jamie could have only dreamt about: falling asleep and waking up with Dani beside her, enjoying breakfast together, the domestic monotony she’d taken for granted before. Jamie found herself longing for things to be like this again all the time; even after Dani leaving how she did, there was still no one who could make Jamie feel the way she did. She would have loved to have been able to just ask Dani to stay- hell, she wished Dani would ask her to go back to Vermont, where she’d learned Dani had been for the last two years. She would have considered it. But neither of those things would happen and Jamie knew it was probably for the best. Either would be a mess. Her musings were interrupted by the bedroom door opening, Dani emerging looking as put together as she had upon arriving at dinner last night.

“Well you clean up pretty nice for someone who was nursing a hangover all morning,” Jamie said, perhaps a little more flirtatious than she’d anticipated. “Let me just brush my teeth and throw on some pants and we can go.”

The pair went downstairs, loading into Jamie’s truck. This time it was Dani reminiscing about the past, thinking how right all of this still felt to her; sitting in the comfortable silence, the radio playing in the background, the countryside winding out the window. Even after all this time, Dani still felt right at home. Now that she was back, she couldn’t help but think that in trying to do right by Jamie, she’d ruined everything.

“You know, I don’t know if I’ve said it yet, but I’ve really missed you,” Dani broke the silence.  Jamie didn’t immediately respond, trying to figure if now was the time to pour her heart out.

“Dani, I can’t begin to tell you how much I’ve missed you, but I can’t just pretend like you didn’t just push me away for months and then run off to another country with no explanation.”

“You know why I did what I did. I know that doesn’t make it any better, but I couldn’t live with the thought of possibly hurting you.”

“Don’t you see that’s exactly what you did anyway?”

“You know what I meant. I was scared, still convinced the Lady of the Lake wasn’t done with me yet. Do you now how many I times I dreamt that she would take over me and hurt you? Would take over me and kill you? I couldn’t live with myself it that happened!”

“If you’d have talked to me about any of this, I would’ve helped you.”

“I did tell you.”

“No, no you didn’t. Well you did, but you mentioned it and then you pulled away from me.”

“And trust me, if I could change that now, I would. I can’t though, and the most I hoped to get out of this weekend was that you didn’t absolutely hate me.”

“I don’t think I can hate you. By all accounts, I should hate you. But here I am, getting drunk with you, letting you stay at my apartment, letting you sleep in my fucking bed. I have tried, trust me I have tried to date other people, but it always just come right back to you and I know the only heart I’m breaking the entire time is my own,” Jamie felt her voice crack and took a breath, determined not to get into this conversation right now.

“I know there’s nothing I can really say, but I do just want to let you know I’m sorry for what I did, for leaving you how I did. I mean it when I say if I could take it all back in hindsight, I would.”

“Well, you can’t. Listen, Dani, I don’t want to get into this conversation right now. Last night was amazing, we’ll have a great time at the wedding tomorrow, and then you’ll go back home, I’ll be here, and it’ll be like this whole weekend never happened. I can’t ask you to stay and even if I wanted to, I can’t go back with you. So where does that leave us? Things are already getting messy as it is and you know it.”

Dani just sighed, knowing Jamie was right. They sat back in silence after this, except it was no longer comfortable. Both women had finally gotten to speak the words they’d been holding onto for the last two years, both knowing it wouldn’t change anything.

After what felt like hours, though it couldn’t have been more than 20 minutes, the pickup pulled up in front of the Wingrave’s home.

“Here’s your stop. So I’ll, um, I’ll see you for the wedding tomorrow I guess?”

“Yep, I guess so,” Dani said as she headed towards the house.

“Dani!” Jamie called before driving away.

“Yeah?”

“I just…i have to ask, did you ever see her again?” Jamie couldn’t help herself, she had to know.

“Huh?”

“Did you ever see her again? After Bly?”

“Oh,” Dani realized she was asking about Viola. “No, actually and honestly that just makes the fact I left hurt even more.”

Jamie nodded before saying a quick goodbye and the two parted ways until tomorrow.

The next afternoon, Dani rode out to town with the Wingraves. The mood was overall very light, everyone excited to see some happiness come from their hellish time at Bly Manor. Dani should have been excited too, and she was - excited for her friends at least. After yesterday, she’d been feeling pretty shitty about things with Jamie, even more so than usual. Maybe it was finally learning exactly how much pain she’d caused, maybe it was the fact that Jamie seemed to put the final nail in the coffin with their conversation yesterday. Then again, what did she expect? That Jamie would just ask her to come back to England for good? That Jamie would be willing to leave The Leafling and come back to Vermont with her? The more she thought about it, the more laughable it seemed. The other night was beginning to feel like a drunken mistake. For a few hours yesterday morning, she stupidly believed any of the above could have been possible. A distant possibility, sure, but a possibility no less. She tried to put it out of her head and try her best to have a good time. It was a happy day after all.

Dani had finally gotten in a little bit better headspace upon arriving at the small church where the ceremony was taking place, but that changed quickly when she realized where they were. This was a part of town she knew well, one she was in almost as much as the area near Jamie’s flat and all the memories came rushing back. Right next to the church was the school where Flora and Miles had gone for a year before Henry found a more permanent home for them in the country. She’d attended a fair number of school plays and sporting events there that year.  A little further down was the gas station she distinctly remembered stopping at with Jamie when they had taken a road trip a few hours out into the country for their first anniversary, right before everything went to shit. She remembered stopping to stock up on junk food, the euphoria of finally having some time just the two of them after what she remembered had been a hellishly busy month. There was the restaurant they would end up at quite often after both of them had worked a full day and didn’t feel like cooking; the video store they frequented. God, everything in this area reminded her of what she and Jamie had, what they could have continued to have if she hadn’t fucked it all up.

“Dani, are you coming?” Flora’s voice broke her thoughts, Dani hadn’t even realized she’d been zoning out.

“Yeah, sorry. I was miles away, but here I come!”

“Doesn’t it all just look perfectly splendid?”

“It does Flora, it really does.”

The ceremony was small and short, but beautiful. Once everything wrapped, Hannah and Owen disappeared for more photos while everyone else began to migrate towards the venue that would be hosting the reception. Dani noticed Jamie wasn’t placed at the same table as her and the Wingraves, which she had expected, especially after the other night. The au pair hadn’t seen the gardener yet, at least nothing more than making eye contact across the church. Dani did take note that Jamie didn’t appear to be with a date like she’d said. Just as Dani was thinking this, Jamie appeared at the table.

“You lot don’t happen to have room for one more person here, do you?”

“Eh, I guess we can find a place for you,” Dani joked, knowing full well there was more than enough space.

“Thank god. I forgot to update Hannah on the whole date situation and how after things ended at the rehearsal dinner, I would not be attending with Morgan after all. However, since she was unfortunately invited to the wedding before we agreed to go together, we were still sat at the same table.”

“Yikes. Well, we’re happy to take in a stray.”

“Jamie! I’m so excited to be able to sit with both of you tonight!” Flora exclaimed after seeing there was one additional guest at their table. “Oh this is splendid - does this mean Dani’s back and you’re together again?”

“Not quite, squirt,” Dani laughed, “but it’ll be good for us all to spend some time together tonight, I think.” Flora nodded, content with that answer,

“Ah, if only it were that easy,” Jamie mused.

“Yeah, if only. You wanna go find the bar?”

“Please. I thought you’d never ask.”

The entire rest of the evening was wonderful. Dinner and dessert were delicious, but with the team from Owen’s restaurant catering, who would have expected anything else? The toasts were lovely, the music had been perfectly chosen with wordless melodies to set the mood while dinner was happening and some great dance music for afterwards. Before everyone knew it, it was nearing midnight and people were beginning to trickle out.

“So…is this it?” Dani asked.

“I reckon it might be,” Jamie sighed. “Listen, I would be lying if I said I hadn’t been dreading seeing you since Owen told me you’d bought your plane ticket and would be coming, but this weekend has actually been a lot of fun.”

“It really has. Thank you for still being willing to spend time with me. After everything I wouldn’t have blamed you if you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“Like I said yesterday, I don’t have it in me to hate you, Poppins. Thank you for an unexpectedly enjoyable weekend.” The two stood in silence for a moment before Jamie spoke up again.

“I know it’s completely against my better judgment, but would you want to come over again tonight? Honestly the company the other night was nice.”

“I shouldn’t,” Dani declined. “Trust me, I would love that more than anything, but I can’t. I know we had that conversation about it never working out between us yesterday and it’s not fair to either of us if I come over tonight and who knows what happens from there. Plus you’re still a little drunk. If you were completely sober would you have asked me to stay the night?”

“Probably,” Jamie shrugged.

“How are you getting home, by the way? Don’t tell me you’re driving?”

“Nah, awkwardly enough, Morgan still gave me a ride here today.  Even though we weren’t going together anymore, she still offered to drive me. You know how much I hate being DD for weddings, so I still took her up on it. Though she uh, seems to have left the party already.”

“Let me find Henry, I’m sure he would be willing to give you a ride back home if you needed.” Dani ran off and returned a few minutes later. Henry was saying his goodbyes to a few other folks from around town, as well as trying to separate the kids from their newfound group of friends that consisted of the few other children who had been at the reception.

“He said it’s fine, he wants to know you get home safely too. Before we get ganged up on by kiddos who are on an obscene sugar high, I wanted to ask if you have any plans for the rest of the week?”

“Just work as far as I can think,” Jamie said.

“Good. I’m sure I mentioned it before, but when I said I was coming over for the wedding, the Wingraves asked if I’d want to stay for a little bit longer, spend some time with the kids. Thing is, if you happened to have any more free days, I’d love to see you another time or two if it worked out.”

“I would love that,” Jamie said. “Do you still have my phone number, maybe we can hash out details tomorrow?”

“It’s very possible I still have it memorized.” Dani stuck her hand out, fingers grazing Jamie’s for the second time in three days. Jamie grabbed her hand right back. They both knew this felt right, maybe their relationship could be salvaged after all. They also knew it was too soon to know, but there was hope. Jamie pulled Dani a little closer, about ready to go in for a kiss, when she was interrupted.

“I thought you said you weren’t dating anymore?” Miles asked.

“We’re not,” Dani said, not wanting to give the kids any false hope that they’d be seeing significantly more of her in their lives again.

“But you were going to kiss, weren’t you?”

“Miles, none of your business,” Henry interjected. “Everyone ready to head out?” Everyone nodded in agreement and made their way out into the chilly evening to the car. Dani could hear that Flora and Miles were walking a little farther behind the group and apparently hadn’t dropped the conversation of Dani and Jamie dating once again.

“Wasn’t that night just so much fun, Miles? I just love weddings. Well, I loved this one, I haven’t been to any others. What if Jamie and Dani get married next? We could all go to their wedding and it would be perfectly splendid!”

Dani and Jamie both overhead this and exchanged a quiet, knowing laugh. If only the rest of the world could be as accepting as these kids. While they couldn’t be sure what the future would really look like and they knew there’d be countless challenges to work through. It wouldn’t be easy, but maybe their love, like the moonflower, might be worth it.

A/N - if you made it all the way through, thank you and I hope you enjoyed it! If y’all want a sequel, lemme know because @90smallaesthetic​ has already asked for one 🤣

[teenwolffanclub-me]

Season 1, Episode 10: Co-Captain

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader (eventually)

Notes: I somehow forgot that Deaton existed until I wrote this. My bad guys, but he’s not really that relevant in the first season anyway so...

P.S. Kate needs a therapist, Sheriff Stilinski is kinda bad at his job, and so many people almost die. Seriously, it’s getting ridiculous at this point.

                                                    ————————

Lydia huffed in annoyance, struggling to keep up behind me in her high heeled boots. The ground crunched with each quick step I took, the dirt barely visible through a thick layer of dried leaves. I pulled the sides of my jacket tighter around my sides, feeling a chill run up my spine as a gust of cold air blew against me.

“Allison. When you said you needed to run an errand before we went shopping, a five mile hike in the woods was not what I was expecting.” Lydia had been complaining nonstop since we got here, and didn’t seem likely to give up anytime soon.

We’d been walking through Beacon Hills Preserve for at least ten minutes by now, Allison leading us with a big bag slung over her shoulder. She seemed aggravated, practically running with a tense look on her face. I had no idea what the hell we were doing. She’d been acting weird all week, more angry and on edge than usual.

We were supposed to be shopping for winter formal dresses at the mall. Lydia had been begging us to go all week, since the dance is next Friday. I kept dodging her invitation because there were just so many other things going on right now.

Me and the guys had spent the week trying to figure out where Peter’s been hiding, while keeping Jackson from spilling the werewolf beans to the whole school every time he got pissy.

I wasn’t sure who either of them were taking to the dance, and I honestly didn’t care much. I wasn’t planning on going. No one had asked me, and stuff like that wasn’t really my thing anyway. I definitely wasn’t annoyed that a certain spastic boy hadn’t even mentioned it yet. Not at all.

“Before I forget, I wanted to ask if you’re okay with something.” Allison quipped, not even bothering to turn around and look at us. “Jackson asked me to winter formal.”

My eyes widened and swept toward Lydia quickly to see her reaction. I wasn’t expecting that, even though the two of them had been incredibly flirty lately. It was obvious that Allison still had feelings for Scott, and Lydia for Jackson, so the whole thing was just a big mess.

“Did he?” She tried to sound unaffected as she nearly stumbled over a rock. My arm instinctively stuck out to steady her, and she sent me a small, grateful smile.

“Just as friends, but I wanted to make sure you were okay with it first.” 

Lydia pursed her glossed lips tightly and flicked a lock of hair away from her eyes. Her gloved hands tightened into fists at her sides. “Sure. As long as it’s just friends.”

Allison scoffed quietly, seemingly annoyed. I quirked a brow at her back in curiosity. Yeah, she and Lydia had a bit of a love hate relationship, but stealing her boyfriend was a little over the top. Something was clearly bothering her. I’d been trying to figure it out for days, but she never wanted to talk about it when I asked.

She stopped suddenly, and I nearly toppled over as I narrowly avoided running into her. Her bag dropped onto the leaf covered ground with a thud before she knelt down to unzip it. Lydia and I both watched in curious silence as she pulled out a huge bow and inspected it carefully.

It looked like something a professional would own. I’d nearly forgotten that she was into archery as a kid, but that thing was intense. Plus, why she felt the need to do this right now, on a Saturday afternoon while we were supposed to be shopping, I had no idea. She popped back to her feet quickly and screwed a big cylindrical arrowhead onto her arrow.

“What does that do?” Lydia shivered beside me and crossed her arms tightly as another gust of wind blew past us.

“We’re about to find out.” Allison muttered, more to herself than us, as she strung the bow.

She turned her back to us and raised her arms up beside her head. I watched closely as she narrowed her eyes and scanned the area for a good target. After a moment of wobbling, she let out a breath and squared her shoulders. Then, she let go.

The arrow whizzed through the air with a zip before landing in a tree a few yards away, immediately exploding with a bright waterfall of sparks.

I jumped back, not expecting that at all. “What the hell was that?”

That was not an ordinary arrow. I wondered for a moment how she even got it. It was most likely her dad’s, so she either stole it or knew way more about her family than she was letting on.

She dropped her arms with a jerk and whipped around to face us, her eyes glassy. Their hard edge had disappeared entirely, replaced now with something close to fear. “I need to tell you guys something. It’s going to sound really ridiculous and I-I don’t want you to laugh at me.”

Her sudden change in demeanor was a little jarring. It seemed like this was coming out of nowhere. I glanced at Lydia, who was doing a terrible job of hiding the fact that she thought she was completely crazy.

“We would never laugh at you.” I narrowed my eyes at Lydia, silently pleading with her to be nice. She just pouted and looked at Allison expectantly.

“It’s about my family.” Allison let out a heavy breath and wiped at her eyes. “Awhile ago, I caught them in a lie. A little one. But now, I’ve been overhearing some really strange conversations. I think...I think some of it has to do with Derek.”

“Derek?” I sputtered, my breath catching in my throat at his name. I’d learned earlier this week that he was, in fact, alive after our encounter with Peter. They’d both shown up at school a few days ago to intimidate Scott into joining their pack, which was honestly so much worse.

I let out a sigh and cleared my throat. “I mean, are you sure?”

She nodded, glancing around the trees as if he could be spying on us right now. “Yeah. I don’t think he is who he—”

She suddenly stopped, her whole body stiffening as something rustled in the leaves nearby. I watched her closely as she looked from side to side, wondering if something happened that she wasn’t telling me about. She was acting so jumpy and weird.

“Hold this.” She absentmindedly handed her bow to Lydia, who balanced it on her upturned palms as if one wrong move would set it off.

“What? Why?” Her emerald eyes widened in horror.

“Because I thought I heard something.” Allison whispered harshly, as if that would help the situation at all.

She turned her back to us and took a few timid steps forward.

“Allison,” I sighed, moving toward her. It was probably nothing. And if it wasn’t, she shouldn’t be the one going to investigate. “I’m sure it—”

She turned around just long enough to shush me before continuing on her way. I paused, my lips parting in surprise. Did she really just do that?

I stood in place, my eyes firmly planted on her back until she turned a corner, disappearing among the trees. I was ridiculously confused by her sudden personality change. Up until this week, she’d been terrified of anything even remotely out of the ordinary. Especially after we spent that night in the school.

“She’s being weird. Right?” Lydia breathed from beside me, still standing completely still and holding the bow gingerly.

I nodded, eyes narrowing in the direction she’d gone. I guess there was a chance the noise was something supernatural, but we were in the woods. It could’ve been anything and was most likely harmless. Still, part of me wanted to go after her and make sure she was okay.

“Very.” I moved to walk away, but stopped when Lydia’s panicked voice sounded from behind me.

“Um, absolutely not. You are not leaving me alone with this thing.” Her wide eyes glanced down at the bow apprehensively.

“Oh, for God’s sake...” I stepped toward her, quickly plucking it from her hands, and she visibly relaxed with a heavy sigh.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as I dropped it on top of Allison’s bag. She was always so dramatic. I motioned for her to follow me and continued forward. Allison couldn’t have gotten far yet, so I figured we’d find her pretty quickly.

I rounded a corner and immediately staggered to a stop as my eyes landed on Allison only a few feet away. She was crouched on the ground hugging Scott, who looked like he’d just fallen or something. His eyes found mine and immediately widened as he shook his head frantically with a wave of his hand.

I whirled around and nearly ran right into Lydia. Her eyes narrowed into a glare as I grabbed her biceps and jerked her the other way. I had no idea what he was even doing here, but I didn’t want to ruin their moment. He’d been trying to get back on her good side, and apparently it was working if what I just saw was any indication.

“Y/N, what the hell is wrong with you?” Lydia snapped, turning her head to try and see what I was taking us away from.

“Uh. It was a...wolf.” I cringed at my pathetic attempt at lying. I’d always been complete shit at it.

She gave up on tying to see what it was and let me continue pushing her forward, but still glanced at me as if I’d lost my mind. “There haven’t been wolves in Beacon Hills in—”

“Sixty years. I know.” I let out a huff as we made it back to Allison’s bag, and finally released her.

If only she knew how wrong she was. 

                                                  —————————

I crossed my arms over my chest impatiently, watching as Stiles fumbled with his house key for several seconds before finally managing to push it into the doorknob. He was always such a spaz, no matter what he was doing.

We didn’t have much time, but in my experience, Stiles and rushing don’t mix well. We were only stopping here so that he could grab his laptop before we met up with Scott at his house. The three of us were trying our hardest to find a pattern in the people Peter was trying to turn, so that we could hopefully stop him before he kills anyone else. 

“Why would Jackson want to be a werewolf?” I asked slowly, not fully believing what he'd just told me.

He turned around long enough to twitch his eyes at me incredulously before facing the door again. “Because it’s Jackson.”

I mean, fair enough. 

I’d been delivering dinner for mom at the hospital when Scott texted us that he wanted to meet up. Stiles came to get me, since she would need the car to get home in the morning. On the way here, he’d filled me in on his and Scott’s afternoon.

The three of us had a new policy: no more secrets, and no more lies. 

They decided to follow Jackson after school because they still don’t trust him and also, they’re nosy as hell. Apparently, he didn’t make it far before being cornered by Mr. Argent, so it was a good thing they have no concept of healthy boundaries. The fact that they saved his ass didn’t stop him from threatening to out Scott—again—if he doesn’t give him what he wants.

Stiles also casually mentioned that the Argents are actively trying to kill the alpha and his beta, who they think could be Scott, Jackson, or Derek. 

Things were a shitshow, basically.

Stiles popped his front door open and I trailed in behind him. My eyes immediately landed on his dad, who was sitting at their dining room table surrounded by various documents. Stiles perked up at the sight and practically ran to his side.

“Whatcha doin’?” He sang, peering down at the mountain of papers.

“Work.” Mr. Stilinski muttered curtly, his brows furrowing as he scribbled something down onto a notepad.

“Anything I can help with?” Stiles’ voice rose eagerly as his eyes continued flickering around the table.

His dad let out a long sigh and rubbed a hand across his forehead. It looked like he hadn’t gotten a good nights sleep in days. “You know, if you poured me an ounce of whiskey, that’d be awful nice.”

Stiles jerked upright and nearly bolted to the kitchen. I just stood in place by the door, watching him curiously. It was like he’d completely forgotten that we were supposed to be doing something. He had a tendency to be forgetful, especially when stressed. I’d say he was pretty wired lately, since he could barely go a minute without worrying about Scott and all his werewolf issues. 

He reappeared in the doorway a few seconds later, the bottle of alcohol and a shot glass in hand, and quickly pulled out a chair next to his dad. I decided to join them because I was honestly really curious about what he was working on. Plus, getting Stiles back on track usually took a lot more effort than I was willing to give right now. 

“Any leads?” He put the stuff onto the table and picked up the closest paper to him.

“Hey.” Mr. Stilinski swatted his hand away before wagging a pencil disapprovingly. Stiles cried out dramatically and rubbed at his fingers. “You know I can’t discuss that with you.”

“What about with me?” I slid into a free chair on the other side of the table, my lips pulling up into a teasing smile. It instantly dropped at the unamused stare he gave me. 

Okay. Do not joke with a tired Sheriff. Got it. 

I cleared my throat and glanced at Stiles for help, only to find that he was already looking at me, an amused smile twitching at the edges of his lips. He was trying to be discreet about it, so his dad wouldn’t see, and it was ridiculously adorable. 

He sagged back into his chair with a sigh. “Son, the last thing I need right now is you and your girlfriend shoving your noses into my classified investigation, so if you could just—”

My heart nearly stopped beating in my chest at his words. I looked at Stiles with wide eyes, but he was too busy sputtering silently toward his dad to notice. “Uh, we aren’t—” 

We still hadn’t talked about that. Sure, we’ve kissed a few times, but we haven’t gone on a proper date or anything yet, and he didn’t even ask me to the dance. As far as I was concerned, we were...friends? That sometimes kiss?

“Yeah. No. We-we haven’t...” He rushed the words out as he finally remembered how to talk, his cheeks turning bright pink.

“Look. I don’t care.” His dad sighed before sliding his glasses off and massaging his temples. “Just please go do...anything else.”

“Alright. Fine.” Stiles started pouring a shot of the whiskey, his eyes widening after a moment as if an idea dawned on him. He kept going until the glass was almost full before sliding it across the table. “Bottoms up.”

He got up just as quickly as he’d sat down, striding around the table to take my hand in his. I nearly tripped over my own feet as he pulled me out of my chair and up the stairs quickly. He shoved his bedroom door open before practically throwing me inside and slamming it behind us. 

I just stared at him with wide eyes as he leaned back against it with a sigh. 

“I didn’t want him to notice what I did.” He glanced at me fleetingly before pushing himself off the door and walking briskly toward his desk. 

I swear, he never slows down. 

“Which is...?” I drawled, turning around to watch him dig through each of the wooden drawers. 

He tongue swept across his bottom lip in concentration. My eyes followed the movement, my own lip rolling between my teeth. I was always surprised that he could manage to make even the smallest things attractive. “I’m gonna get him drunk. He talks a lot when he’s drunk.”

“So that’s how you know so much about police stuff.” I wandered over to his bed and plopped down, figuring I might as well get comfortable if we were going to be in here for awhile.

He stopped rummaging through his stuff to frown at me. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Manipulating a Sheriff into giving you classified information? That one’s not exactly north on the moral compass.” I dragged my toes along the hardwood floors and leaned back on my palms.

He rolled his eyes and turned back to the desk, searching for another few seconds before letting out a frustrated huff. He practically slammed the last drawer closed. One of his hands came up to scratch at the side of his head as he turned and let his eyes flicker around the room. 

“Where the hell did I leave that thing?” He muttered, more to himself than me.

He suddenly perked up, as if remembering something, and took a few big steps toward the bed. He bent down in front of me and started moving his blankets around. I leaned to the side in an effort to give him more room, since it seemed like he somehow forgot I was sitting right here. My eyes flickered over his face, which was only a few inches away from mine. 

The window beside his bed let in just enough light to perfectly illuminate his freckled skin. It reflected off of his eyes, making them look like molten amber. His nose was scrunched adorably in concentration as he weaved around me to look for the laptop. He suddenly stopped fidgeting and moved back slightly. 

“Ah ha! Got ya, you little...” He trailed off as his eyes met mine. He froze, as if only just then realizing how close we were. 

I stole a glance at his lips before deciding to close the distance between us. It was hard to think about anything else but kissing him when he was this close. My hands moved up to the sides of his face and I tugged him those last few inches closer. When my lips slanted over his, he stiffened against me, as if caught off guard. The contact only lasted a few seconds before he pulled back with with shaky breath. 

I took one look at his stunned expression and erupted into a fit of giggles. 

“What?” He frowned and moved away, his eyes searching mine.

“Why do you always kiss me like you think I’m going to punch you in the face right after?” I chuckled and let my hands drop back down to my lap.

It looked like he was about to argue as his mouth opened and closed a few times. He eventually just dragged his tongue against the inside of his cheek and sighed in defeat. “I just—uh. I want you to be comfortable, and I don’t want you to think that I want you to do something that you don’t want to do.”

My brows furrowed as I tried to figure out what the hell he just said. 

“I’m gonna go check on my dad.” He jerked up to his full height and rubbed at the back of his neck before practically running out the door. 

I watched it bounce off the wall from the force he’d used to open it, and shook my head in amusement. I wasn’t sure how he still managed to be such a spaz around me after all this time, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t endearing as hell. After a few seconds, I wandered out of his room and down the stairs to join him.

“You know, Derek Hale would be a hale—” My eyes landed on Mr. Stilinski, still sitting in the same position we’d left him in, as he stopped slurring for a moment to chuckle at his own slip up. “A hell of a lot easier to catch if we could get an actual picture of him.”

Stiles was sitting in the spot beside him again, already nose deep in some document. I padded over to the table and slid into the empty chair on the other side of the table. I finally processed his words and looked at him in question. They didn’t have a single picture of Derek? He’d been arrested at least two separate times now. How was that possible?

“How do you not have a picture of him?” Stiles’ eyebrows pinched as he voiced my thoughts perfectly.

His dad peeled a small piece of paper off the table and studied it as if it held a code he had yet to decipher. “It’s the weirdest thing. It’s like, every time I try to get a mugshot, there’s like two laser beams pointing at the camera...”

Stiles ripped the picture out of his hands and inspected it closely. I leaned over the table to get a look, my eyes widening at what I saw. It was definitely Derek, but only a fraction of his face was visible through the two bright circles that took up most of the shot.

“Nice.” I breathed before sitting back down, honestly impressed. That was a pretty cool trick and could probably come in handy later on.

“Oh my God.” Mr. Stilinski groaned and slid his glasses off before leaning back in his chair and rubbing his hands down his face. “That ounce hit me like a brick. I’ve said way too much, and if you repeat any of this...”

“Dad. It’s me. I’m not gonna say anything. Come on.” Stiles scoffed and put the picture down, as if his dad questioning him at all was offensive.

The Sheriff’s eyes swept toward me and I swallowed, feeling nervous under his intense gaze. It was like he couldn’t turn off the whole cop thing. Or maybe he just really didn’t like me. I looked away from him and picked up a nearby file to distract myself.

“And Y/N, she’s ya know, trustworthy...too.” A frown pulled at my lips. That stuttering mess made me sound anything but. How did he still manage to be awkward even in front of his own dad?

“See, the thing is, they’re all connected.” Mr. Stilinski started, that jumble of words apparently enough to convince him to continue. “The bus driver that was killed was the insurance investigator assigned to the Hale house fire.”

My eyes widened as I realized I was looking at that very man’s file. I flitted through the pages quickly, looking for anything relevant. 

“Terminated under suspicion of fraud.” I read the words slowly, wondering if it had anything to do with the fire.

I glanced up toward Stiles, who fidgeted in his seat uncomfortably before moving his attention to his dad. “Alright. Who else?”

“The video store clerk who got his throat slashed? A convicted felon with a history of arson.” 

“What about the other two guys? The ones in the woods?” My eyes swept back to Stiles quickly. I’d nearly forgotten about them. They were “mysteriously” killed the night Stiles took Scott into the preserve to get drunk after Allison broke up with him. 

“Priors all over their records. Including—”

“Arson?” I quipped, putting the pieces together easily.

Every single murder was connected to the Hale house fire. But why?

He breathed out a heavy sigh and let the papers he was holding flutter back down to the table. “There’s just so many questions. I mean, if Derek wanted to kill everyone involved with the fire, why start with his sister? She didn’t have anything to do with it. You know, why make it look like some kind of animal did it?”

Stiles looked away from him, his jaw clenching. His eyes flickered to mine fleetingly before moving down to his fingers as he tapped them on the edge of the table, his brows furrowing.

“And, when that cougar showed up in the parking lot, I checked with animal control. Did you know that the incidents of wild animal reports are up seventy percent over the last few months? It’s like they’re just going crazy and running out of the woods.”

It was in that moment, as I saw him so confused and dejected, that a heavy wave of realization crashed down onto my shoulders. Allison wasn’t the only one being hurt by the secrets in Beacon Hills. Not even close. There were so many layers to the problems that all of this shit had created. I hadn’t even considered how it would effect people like Stiles’ dad. 

But it made total sense. Of course, how would they solve any of these cases without the most important piece? He’d run himself into the ground trying to figure out the impossible. Until he knew about the supernatural aspect, he wasn’t going to make any progress. The thought made my heart twist uncomfortably in my chest.

I finally realized how much it was weighing on Stiles, too. It was clear that it pained him not to tell his dad everything. His jaw was tight as Mr. Stilinski rambled on about the unknown, his lips rolled into a thin line. He couldn’t sit still for more than a few seconds, and he kept fidgeting with his fingers. 

It dawned on me then, too, that he wasn’t just complacent in all the lying like I thought this whole time. He was a caretaker. He quite literally couldn’t help but try to protect everyone around him all at once. I had a feeling that even if Scott said it was okay to tell his dad everything, he still wouldn’t.

“Or something’s scaring them out.” Stiles finally sighed, looking defeated. 

Just then, both of our phones dinged with a notification. I pulled mine out of my pocket, brows furrowing at the somewhat incoherent text we’d gotten from Scott.

Mom. Date. PETER!

A second later, another message came through.

MY MOM IS ON A DATE WITH PETER. FREAKING OUT. HELP.

Holy shit. What? That is beyond bad. That’s so fucking terrible I can’t even put it into words. 

My eyes jerked up when Stiles’ chair scraped against the hardwood floors loudly. He bolted to his feet and practically ran around the table, grabbing my arm in the process. He muttered something about us having to be somewhere over his shoulder, but his dad was too far gone to think twice about our quick departure anyway.

We scrambled out the door and into his Jeep, peeling out of the driveway as I recited the address and license plate Scott had sent over. Neither of us said a word as he sped to the other side of town.

After several tense minutes, I spotted the car up ahead. My eyes widened as I realized that it was parked on the side of the road. That couldn’t be good. I saw the silhouette of a man in the driver’s seat, but couldn’t find anyone else inside. 

Oh, God. I hope we aren’t too late.  

“There.” I said, pointing at the car. Stiles immediately veered off the road, but he wasn’t slowing down. I put my hands on the dash for support and looked over at him frantically. “Uh...Stiles?”

I lurched forward, my seatbelt digging into my shoulder as he slammed into the rear bumper of the car. My jaw dropped in shock as smoke started pouring out from under the Jeep’s hood, which was now bent. 

The passenger door in front of us popped open, a very angry looking Ms. McCall tumbling out. “Oh, God! Stiles!”

Well, at least she was still alive.

“Ms. McCall?” He scrambled out of the Jeep, looking flustered despite doing that very much intentionally. 

“Yes!” She threw her hands up in exasperation as she walked around to survey the damage. 

“Wow. Well, this is just crazy. What a coincidence!” Stiles chuckled nervously as he met her between the cars. 

I threw my door open and slid out, immediately shivering as the freezing night air wafted over my skin. My head tilted up to the sky as it started sprinkling. Great. That’s just what we need right now. I came to a stop beside Stiles, crossing my arms tightly over my chest to hold in of my warmth.

“I-I really don’t know what happened. You guys came out of nowhere.” He let out a huff and put his hands on his hips, eyes twitching as he raised his eyebrows, hoping she would buy the excuse. 

“Came out of nowhere? We were parked on the side of the road, Stiles!” Yeah, she so wasn’t believing any of this for a second. 

“How crazy is that?” His voice rose with panic as Peter came striding toward us, looking equally as unamused. “Man, we should probably call the cops. Do like an accident report or something?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” Peter drawled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. What was with the Hale’s and leather? Was it a fashion statement? A werewolf thing? Or did they just not own anything else?

Either way, being this close to him was making my skin crawl.

“Are you sure?” One of Stiles’ eyes squinted shut as he lifted a hand to rub at the back of his neck with a forced grimace. “I think I’m feeling a little bit of whiplash.”

“Whiplash?” It looked like Ms. McCall was going to injure him herself as her voice became sharp with frustration. “You hit us!”

Peter suddenly turned his back to us and began muttering something under his breath. I peered around Ms. McCall’s shoulder and watched as he seemingly talked to himself. My brows furrowed in confusion and I pulled my phone out of my pocket. As I suspected, there was a new text from Scott saying that he was here a few minutes ago. 

I looked around, but couldn’t find him anywhere. My eyes landed on Peter again as he continued taking slow steps away from us. He was clearly talking to Scott, who would be able to hear him from a good distance away. But where was he?

“You know what, I seriously can’t do this right now.” Ms. McCall threw her hands up and walked back to the car with a huff. 

Without thinking too hard about it, I started walking toward Peter. I wanted to know what he was saying, and what the hell he thought he was doing by going after Scott’s mom. If I stopped for even a second I would’ve realized how epically stupid that was, but at the current moment I was too angry to care. For some reason, putting a human face to the alpha had made him just a little less scary. 

I only made it a few steps before a firm hand on my wrist stopped me. I turned to see Stiles staring at me with wide eyes. “Are you out of your freakin’ mind?”

At the touch of his skin on mine, I suddenly felt like the earth shifted beneath my feet. I staggered back a step, a gasp escaping me as a vivid image of Scott flashed in my mind. The only thing I could see was his face, scrunched into a pained grimace.

Stiles ripped his hand away and I was dropped harshly back into the present. “Whoa. What? What?”

I stumbled to the side, feeling lightheaded, and met his wide eyes. He stared at me with parted lips, his eyebrows raised in shock. The vision had come and gone too fast for me to see what was going on, but I knew it couldn’t be good as my stomach tightened uncomfortably.

“Do that again.” I rushed the words out in one breath. “Touch me again.”

He stammered silently for a few seconds, his confused eyes searching mine. I jutted my arm out toward him expectantly and he rolled his lips into a thin line, looking uneasy. After a few moments of hesitation, he slowly wrapped his hand around my wrist again. 

My eyes fluttered closed as the image of Scot instantly returned. I could no longer feel the rain on my face or the chill of the night air. I was just looking down at Scott, watching as he writhed around on the leaf covered ground, a wet stain on his shirt just below his heart slowly expanding.

A thick liquid stained his lips and chin. It looked like blood, but was almost black. He took in a hoarse breath, his chest heaving from the effort.

Suddenly, my eyes snapped open with a jolt. I nearly toppled over as my legs gave out under me. Stiles wrapped his hands around my biceps and studied with me a hard look. I blinked at him a few times, trying to get my eyes to refocus.

“I’m sorry, but I had to stop. It looked like you were in pain. What the hell was that?” His voice was tight with concern as his eyes flickered around my face.

I rubbed a hand against my chest in an effort to steady my breathing. My head pounded harshly as I looked around, trying to convince myself that I was actually back in the present. 

“We need to go. Right now.” I made a move toward the Jeep, but Stiles stood firmly in place, stopping me easily. 

He gave me a hard look and shook me slightly as he spoke. “Okay. You’re really starting to freak me out. What’s going on right now?”

“I’ll explain on the way. Just...please. Trust me.” His eyes twitched as he swallowed slowly. I tried my hardest to silently convey how serious this was. If we were going to make it to Scott before whatever the hell that was happened, we needed to go. Now. 

He hesitated a moment, looking at me as if he wasn’t convinced of my sanity, but eventually nodded in agreement. I let out a breath of relief, casting a final quick glance at Ms. McCall and Peter as I climbed into the Jeep. I was nervous about leaving her with him, but right now Scott was the priority. 

I just hoped we would get there in time. 

                                                —————————

I squinted through the darkness, using my phone’s flashlight to help illuminate our path as we walked through the woods. It was nearly midnight now, the sun long gone. I was starting to lose hope that we would find Scott. It looked like he was somewhere in the preserve during my vision, but we had yet to run into a single other living thing yet. With each passing minute, it seemed more and more likely that I was actually just crazy.

“So I’m your anchor? Me. Stiles.” He asked from beside me, for the third time in ten minutes.

I sighed, pulling his jacket tighter against me as a gust of wind brushed along the back of my neck. He’d given it to me without hesitation when we got out of the car, already assuming I’d be cold. Since we had nothing else to do while looking for Scott, I told him about what I saw by the cars and explained how Derek helped me with my visions last week. 

He wasn’t happy, to put it mildly. He probably hated the guy more than any of us, and had since let me know how much he despised the idea of me being alone with him. Repeatedly. 

“Don’t go getting a big head about it.” I quipped, mostly joking. “I’m sure I could pick a new one if I wanted to.”

He stopped walking and looked over at me, utterly offended. When he leaned forward to narrow his eyes, I noticed something over his shoulder. I took a big step toward him and shoved his head out of the way quickly.

“Hey! What the hell was—”

“Oh my God.” My heart instantly started hammering in my chest as I saw a crumpled figure a few feet ahead. “Scott!”

As I sprinted toward him, I heard a low, pained groan. Within seconds, I fell onto my knees beside him. His eyes were fluttering as he stared vacantly up into the sky and clutched his injured side. My hands twitched in the air above him, wanting to help but having no idea what to do. Thick smoke started pouring out between his fingers, and I reeled back in disgust. 

Stiles scrambled to his other side a moment later, wide eyes flickering back and forth between Scott and I as if he couldn’t believe that I was right. Honestly, I couldn’t either.

“Allison...” Scott choked the word out, barely able to get a breath in. 

“Seriously?” I shouted urgently as panic surged through me. “You’re literally dying and that’s all you can say? What the hell happened?”

“Derek...Jackson was...” He sputtered and coughed, thick blood oozing from his mouth.

I groaned in frustration. This whole gasping out one word at a time thing was not working for me. I looked up at Stiles desperately. “We have to do something.”

“Uh. Right. Okay...” I could practically see the gears turning in his head as his eyes flickered around spastically before finally coming back to mine. “The clinic. We have to take him to the clinic.”

“What?” I breathed, surprised by the suggestion. 

“Just, come on. We don’t have much time.” 

We both draped each of Scott’s arms over our shoulders and started dragging him back the way we came. I was obviously Incredibly freaked out because he was dying right in front of us, but I was angry, too. I was so mad at myself for not being able to see this sooner. If I had control over my visions, we could’ve been here before he even got hurt. I couldn’t help but feel partially to blame for the whole thing. 

Within minutes we were barreling through the vet clinic’s doors. We came in using the garage, the same way Scott had told us to when Derek was in this same position. It was obvious that he’d been shot with a bullet covered in wolf’s bane, since he wasn’t healing at all. Stiles and I dropped him onto one of the metal operating tables the second we got in the room.

He was passed out cold at this point. I bent over to rest my hands on my knees, my chest heaving with labored breaths. He was heavy as shit, and Stiles and I aren’t exactly the peak of fitness. After I caught my breath, I stood up straight and immediately froze at the sight of Deaton in the doorway.

He was just standing there, observing us curiously. We were so screwed. He could charge us with breaking and entering, at the very least. Plus, Scott was laying on his table with a bullet hole in his chest. There was absolutely no way to explain this, and we didn’t have time anyway.

“Uh...” I stammered, not sure what to say. 

“Remove his shirt.” Deaton said slowly, his eyes firmly planted on Scott as he walked across the room. 

Stiles and I exchanged a quick glance, but did as he said. I grimaced and reared back as I saw the bullet wound properly for the first time. It was still discharging that weird smoke and was oozing a thick, nasty looking black liquid. Deaton returned to the table with a pair of long tweezers, gauze, and a small jar. He looked strangely calm as he peered down at Scott’s unconscious frame.

“I thought you were a vet.” My eyes trailed over him as he snapped on a pair of medical gloves. I appreciated the help from an adult right now, but he wasn’t exactly a doctor.

He glanced at me fleetingly before picking up the tweezers. “That’s correct. And ninety percent of the time I’m mostly treating cats and dogs.”

“Mostly?” Stiles muttered from beside me, his eyes glistening down at Scott with worry. 

Deaton paused just before digging the tweezers into Scott’s side. He looked at the two of us, a small smile pulling at his lips as if he knew something we didn’t. “Mostly.”

Just then, my phone started ringing loudly. I winced at the high pitched tone and reached into my back pocket to fish it out, but stilled when I came up empty. My brows furrowed as I patted my hands against my jeans. I could’ve sworn I put it back in there once we found Scott. 

“What are you doing?” Stiles eyed me curiously from the other end of the table. 

“Have you seen my phone?” I muttered, walking around the room to look around the floor. The ringing kept getting progressively louder, to the point that it was almost painful. I rubbed at my ears as I continued searching. 

“Y/N...” Something about his tone made my attention snap back to him. I glanced down at his hand as he held it out toward me. “You dropped it in the woods so I picked it up...”

My breath caught in my throat as I looked down at the screen. It was black. There was no one calling me, but I could still hear the ringing even now. It didn’t make any sense. I took it from him with a shaky hand, avoiding his concerned gaze. I nearly jumped out of my skin as it started actually going off the second my fingers touched it. 

My eyes flickered up toward Stiles and Deaton, who were both watching me closely. I cleared my throat and turned my back to them before answering. 

“Y/N!” Allison yelled harshly, panic clear in her voice. I immediately stiffened. What more could go wrong tonight? “You’re never going to fucking believe this.”

“What?” I breathed, my heart already beating erratically in my chest with anticipation.

“My aunt just showed me this creepy room we have in our basement—which I didn’t even know was a thing by the way—and you’ll never believe who she has chained up in there.”

I blinked a few times, taking a moment to process what she said. “Allison, just spit it out already.”

“Derek fucking Hale! And—and that’s not all. He was...he’s. Oh my God, I can’t even say it. He’s a...a...”

I pinched my eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable bomb to drop. How did he always manage to get himself in these ridiculous situations? Like, are you kidding me right now? As if dealing with Peter wasn’t enough, he goes and gets himself kidnapped by the Argents too.  I turned back around to face Stiles and Deaton, my gaze shifting to the fresh bandage on Scott’s side. I took the relieved look in their eyes as a good sign that he was going to be okay. I held onto the small hope that Allison’s innocence had been preserved and she wasn’t about to say what I thought.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy, but he’s—she said that he’s a...werewolf.”

Yeah, I knew we weren’t that lucky.

Episode 9                   Episode 11

[chasneedsamoustache]

A bard’s family reunion

It was already dark when Geralt, accompanied – as he had been for almost a month now – by the troubadour poet Jaskier, reached the inn that would serve as a welcome bed for the night. The pair had been on the road for long enough to be in need of a bed that was not made of branches and rocks and also, most certainly a hot bath, for they both stank.

The red-faced and ill-mannered innkeeper scowled at Geralt – almost a moment too long for the tired witcher before shrugging his shoulders and declaring there to be no room available. If it wasn't for the raucous in the adjoining room, which Geralt presumed to be the main area of the tavern, he may have argued with the man. Instead he lingered, assaulting the the innkeeper with his narrowed eyes, long enough for Jaskier – who had gotten fed up of waiting with the horses and paid a young child a penny to do the job for him – to enter.

At the sight of the bard with, as always, a lute on his back and for reasons that for once did not seem to the witcher to be about him or his mutated existence, the innkeeper suddenly lit up, snapped his fingers and proclaimed there to be a spare room as Jaskier was 'one of those lot'. Geralt took the key offered to him, caring not that the red-faced man was entirely mistaken as whatever was meant by 'that lot' could not apply to the bard who had not even heard of this town, let alone this inn.

“I have a bad feeling about this.” Jaskier whispered to Geralt once they had handed their mounts over to the stable boy. “I'm sure we're going to get ourselves into some sort of trouble.”

“As long as that trouble happens in the morning, after a good nights sleep, I am not going to begrudge a little nuisance.”

“Says you, dear witcher, when it was only upon my own entering the establishment that we were permitted a room and thus it is I who will be in trouble for falsely taking up residence in some other poor fools room!”

“Worry not until you are at least bathed and fed, Jaskier.” Geralt said wearily. “Fed being the priority right now, my stomach is an empty cavern and I fear a monster has taken residence there as it is growling rather loudly.”

The troubadour sighed and gave in, his own stomach empty, he agreed that at least they should eat before they were chucked out onto the street for being imposters.

They entered the main section of the inn, Geralt led but paused when greeted by a room packed to the rafters of merry makers, young and old and of a variety of wealth that the witcher had certainly not expected out here in the countryside. Jaskier appeared beside him, looking equally disheartened at the lack of available seating.

The crowd, bristling with excitement, seemed to be centred on a small area with a raised wooden platform that looked to be stage, although it was currently empty of whatever or rather whomever had drawn such a large gathering. Waves of excited whispers and louder giggles passed over the crowd, ignored entirely by the two men who were still scouring the room for even a small space on a crowded bench.

“Perhaps we ought to take a meal in our room.” Jaskier said, having to practically shout to be heard over the hubbub. Geralt turned to his friend with a frown that begged him to repeat himself. Despite being able to hear the bard clearly if he whispered in a hail storm, he had not being paying attention. “I say, pehaps-”

Jaskier stopped mid-sentence, his face turned pale and twitched it's way into a grimace, the likes of which Geralt had never seen on the bard before. Nose wrinkled, Jaskier turned on his heel and made for the exit, announcing that, under no circumstances, could he stay in this place a moment longer. He cried out when the witcher grabbed him by the shoulder, eager to remind him that this was the only warm bed within a days ride.

“You don't understand.” Hissed Jaskier, squirming free of the witcher's grip.

“It matters not how you have wronged-”

“This is worse, we must leave and quickly!”

“Julian!” Too late, Jaskier blanched again and fell back against Geralt in his usual dramatics – although Geralt was not entirely sure it had not been a genuine faint this time for his friend's face was ugly with sickness and fear before the fellow who had called his name, his real name.

“Julian what on earth are you being so ridiculous for?” He approached, dressed as eccentrically, perhaps more so, than the bard who had returned to an upright position. “Oh forgive me, I forgot you don't use that name in public. Jaskier, I'm so glad you've made it! Everyone will be excited, for they were determined you had not even received the numerous invitations sent to you the even more numerous places you have been sighted in recent months. Indeed I believe I have some money to collect as it was only I who placed a wager in favour of your attendance. I thought that innkeeper had given the room we had kept for you, just in case, away to some imposter! ”

“No.” Jaskier's voice was not much more than a wheeze. He looked from Geralt to the room, desperately looking for an escape, for the fellow was blocking his exit.“No.”

“I beg your pardon?” The fellow, who, had precisely the same cornflower blue eyes and chin, and, though his nose was a different shape entirely, could only be Jaskier's brother, perhaps cousin, but brother was much more likely, such was there resemblance in face and mannerism. Geralt found himself raising an eyebrow. “What on earth do you mean by no?”

“Wh-what do you mean by invitation? I received no such thing.” The witcher thought that perhaps he had, but since he squirrelled away any word from his family, which was always the very last thing Jaskier was willing to discuss, he presumed any invitation was lost in the pile of unopened letters the bard thought Geralt did not know about.

“Then this is a happy coincidence! Destiny! Wonderous are the gods who have brought you here on the day of our great reunion!”

“Reunion?” Geralt smiled unpleasantly and Jaskier glared equally as hideously at him.

“Yes friend! Do not worry, brother-mine, it matters not that as usual your manners are lacking, for this man needs no introduction. White hair, yellow eyes, two swords! He could only be Geralt of Rivia! The white wolf! The witcher! The source of all the ballads and such that have made my dear brother famous across these lands. A good friend I believe and thus a friend to us all and certainly welcome at our table for the festivities!

“To answer your question, good witcher, this week is a grand celebration, a reunion of now all of the siblings of Lettenhove, in honour of our good father's birthday, rest his soul. We have commandeered this fine tavern and indeed the town hall and will be playing every night from now until midsummer – Papa's actual birthday if you would believe it – where we shall host a mighty feast and concert!”

“And, if it's not too rude to ask, for my dear Jaskier has failed to inform me of any of his familial relations,” Another, even more hideous glare was earned for the most subtle of Geralt's sarcastic tones, known only to Jaskier for being sarcastic and taken entirely sincerely by anyone else. “How many siblings are you?”

“Fourteen, including Ju- ah Jaskier here and myself.” When Geralt coughed, choking on his own surprise, Jaskier himself stepped in.

“We do not, of course all have the same mother.” He said sneeringly, the sneer was directed at Geralt alone.

“Of course, can you imagine such a poor lady?”

“No, Papa was, as I am, quite the ladies man and a good deal of my siblings were born outside of wedlock. Once he did marry, he remained faithful, I might add, for I do not wish you to think poorly of the man.”

“No, though I do wonder if there is more of us out there.”

“By the gods, John, I hope not!” Jaskier shuddered, finally naming the man in front of him. “I shall explain, dear witcher, but first, brother-mine, I am in incredible need of a drink and whatever passes for food in a place such as this.”

“Certainly! Of course, how rude of me! Come this way!” John waved his hand, much in the same way as Jaskier did when he led Geralt, sweeping and extravagantly. The witcher wondered who learned the technique from who.

Once seated on possibly the most packed table, filled with not only platters of roast meats, steaming fish and an assortment of bread and vegetable dishes, ale tankards and dull goblets full of wine that Geralt immediately knew had corked long ago, but also with at least seven of Jaskier's siblings. Their faces a strange mixture of the bard's familiar features and some that were not nearly as familiar nor pleasant, yet suited each face well. All had the same cornflower blue eyes and all were fixed on either the witcher or his friend, who by all accounts was sulking.

Another sibling had drawn the attention of most of the crowd that filled the rest of the tavern, sitting on stage with a lute, she sung gracefully and played just as well as Jaskier himself. A few, mostly young women of varying levels of beauty, still had their eyes on the table at which Geralt now sat. Eyes on the handsome men there, Jaskier still apparently judged as the most beautiful as most now gazed longingly at him, despite the grimace on his face.

He ignored them all until his friend elbowed him gently, knowing a pretty face or two would soon improve his mood – which it did, tremendously, the bard's grin quickly returned to his face as his winks sent women swooning and blushing. Geralt himself was simply relishing in not being the centre of attention and disgust, there were far too many pleasant young men and indeed women at the table for anyone to notice him and his yellow eyes, let alone be disgusted by them. Save one girl, when Geralt met her gaze, she smiled and nodded faintly to him.

“And now, dear friend, I shall endeavour to explain my peculiar family.” Jaskier interrupted the exchange, now feeling merrier having quickly emptying two mugs of beer, a third in a hand he swung about to draw attention. “My Papa, Joshua Austin Pankratz, seventh Viscount of Lettenhove, like myself -”

“And your all of your siblings.” A woman who looked to be in her early thirties with the same soft curl as Jaskier in her auburn hair, holding a babe in one hand and a turkey leg in the other, interrupted. Geralt had the impression that this was not the first time she had had to remind Jaskier to include more than just himself.

“Yes, like myself and all of my wonderful siblings was a bard, a troubadour, a poet, a man of music and although talented with many an instrument, favoured, like myself and my siblings, the lute. Before his own father passed away, he roamed the countryside and courts, playing to much applause and gaining fame which rivals my own. He also found his way to the bed of many a woman and some of those women provided him with gifts in the form of my older brothers and sisters.” A few of the men and women in the middle of the table nodded, one, the redhead with the babe, rolled her eyes so viciously she appeared to strain them. Jaskier ignored her.

“Papa,” Jaskier continued. “Was most unhappy when he was forced to give up his life as a bard and return to the family estate in Lettenhove to settle down as the Viscount. Soon after he wed my lovely mother, may she rest peacefully.”

“If your lord father had to settle down, then why are you still wondering the countryside like a pauper?” Geralt asked and his friend sneered again, turning his head from Geralt's raised eyebrows and questioning gaze.

“Our dear brother,” Said John, chuckling as he bit into a rather large slice of spiced pork pie, which caused him to choke, spluttering astonishingly elegantly into a handkerchief until the man beside him gave him a rather firm smack on the shoulders. “Thank you Johan – where was I? Oh yes, our brother, himself now the Viscount of Lettenhove, has a rather splendid advantage that our dear departed Papa did not. Juli- oh pox, do forgive me brother, Jaskier here, has a wealth of siblings with whom he shares the responsibilities that come with his title, leaving him Viscount in name only for most of the year, whilst we all take turns in running our little corner of the world. All of us except Jennifer, who is still too young, that is.”

“How did you trick your family into such an arrangement?” Geralt directed the question to his friend.

“Oh, before Papa passed away, we all took turns in threatening to give up the title and pass it on to the next sibling until all that was left was poor little Jennifer, at the time was still inside her mother's belly. A late surprise that one, didn't know Papa still had it in him. Anyway, it was he that suggested that, although I, being the oldest son borne of marriage, would officially be the Viscount, we split the responsibility – bastard or not. Works out to less than a month a year, which in order to keep our land and our money and so on, really isn't that much hassle, even for a group of travelling poets. ”

“Quite so.” John agreed, as did a few of the others.

“Come to think of it, who's in charge if you are all here?” Jaskier asked with a strangely concerned tone.

“Oh, Jac's husband, just for the week.” John replied.

“I suppose that is fine.” Sniffed Jaskier. “So anyway, we take it turns to, you know, be the Viscount, in order of age. Johan is the oldest, sat beside John there, then Judith at the end of the table, John, who you know, Jessica, currently performing and younger only by a few months, Jemima, born of my mother but before she wed my father, who is over there with a babe. How many have you now, dear sister?”

“Fetty here is the fith.”

“Goodness, are you also trying to create enough children for an orchestra?” Jemima scowled but was distracted by patting the babe back to sleep.

“Yes Geralt, our dear father realised at some point that a few more children and he may well have his own little troupe or orchestra. The joke is that we all turned out to love the lute and the lute alone.”

“Except for Jennifer.”

“Indeed, except for Jennifer who plays,” The bard let out a sigh which was echoed by a few of more vibrantly dressed siblings. “the triangle.”

A snotty-nosed and rather mucky girl, who could be no older than eight or nine, sat on the end of the table, grinned suddenly and it was only then that Geralt saw the resemblance to Jaskier. She snuffled her nose, which was in desperate need of wiping, and held up said instrument. A piece of thin metal bent into the shape of a triangle, hanging from a string. The girl hit it with a metal stick, rather triumphantly and Geralt smiled at her for ignoring her siblings sighs and being proud of her own talents. Johan beside her patted her on the back and pulled a rag from his pocket for her to wipe her little nose on.

“So after Jemima,” Jaskier was now determined to finish his explanations. “Came myself. Then, Jacob, Jacqueline, Jasper, who is doing a terrible job of wooing that poor lady over yonder, and Jane, beside me.

“And then, my dearest darling mother sadly left this world, the pox took her. Papa was most unhappy for a long time, until he found Sasha, whom he wed after some time, much to all of our relief. Afterwards came Joel and Jeremiah and finally, our very, very late little egg, Jennifer.” Jennifer grinned again, puffing up proudly as if she had planned her own conception.

The evening continued and amidst eating and drinking and bouts of applause, Geralt heard more and more about Jaskier's family. A hundred different tales from when they were young, including the day Jennifer was born and they all stood on the battlements with their father and played their lutes in unison until they were shouted down by the nursemaid for disturbing the new baby. It did however, become a tradition that they met once a year and played together on the battlements, now joined by little Jennifer who hit her triangle enthusiastically in time with the others.

The witcher heard other stories, from all the siblings, who came and went, sometimes in large groups, back and forth from the stage. Family squabbles and disagreements, silly spats and fights – some of which were still unresolved –  as well as many adventures they had happily shared and heart warming tales of happy times.

Stories of rule as Viscount, and of when Jaskier had vanished for almost an entire year, which turned out to be entirely Geralt's fault. He was forgiven but warned not to occupy his friend's time in late spring again. He heard too, happy stories of love and siblings supporting one another and soon Geralt understood the family to, despite Jaskier's half-hearted protests, truly care for one another.

Jaskier himself, now rather drunk on beer and corked wine, seemed to be the biggest champion of all his siblings, cheering them on and arguing – sometimes a little too aggressively – with them when he was praised above them. Truly, it seemed to Geralt that he loved them dearly, each and every one. Even if the bard ended up as the butt of many a joke, now released of any pretence, he laughed along side his siblings, heartedly and with no sign of sourness.

At one point Jaskier announced that he had in fact received the invitation and had pushed Geralt to come through here, despite pretending to have no knowledge of this place, when indeed he knew it to be the only inn around and that, by the time they reached it, Geralt would be sick of sleeping outside. The witcher himself laughed most heartedly, declaring that he had been played most cunningly, which in that moment he realised he had. He even joined in with the applause when Jaskier stood up and bowed to the cheers and laughter of his siblings for tricking a witcher.

When the dawn approached, Geralt had the pleasure of carrying Jaskier to bed. He was surprised that all the siblings, even Jennifer – though she had been asleep on Johan's lap for many hours – stayed until the innkeeper told them he must prepare for the day that had already arrived. It was only when they were on the stairs and finally alone, that Geralt asked Jaskier why he had hidden his family for so long and why even when they had arrived, he had tried to run.

“I want to be Jaskier, not Julian Alfred Pankratz, when I'm with you. And I thought that if you met my family that would change.” The bard said, his speech so slurred that Geralt could only just understand what he was saying. “They're good people, a good family, but I dislike that I'm a Viscount. I'm a bard, Geralt! A bard and only a bard! I've only used my title to get you out of trouble – like that time they caught you swindling the crown because of that red haired witch.” Geralt met Jaskier's blurred gaze and his friend began to giggle. “What I'm saying is,” He dribbled when his laughter had subsided. “The person you are friends with is Jaskier, troubadour, poet, womaniser, a man whom doesn't have a family with fourteen siblings and an increasing number of nieces and nephews. A man who can stand tall on his achievements, unique and talented and not one of many and not even the best among them.”

Jaskier's voice grew quiet and Geralt shook his head at such a notion.

“Dear friend, for you are truly my friend, perhaps the only true friend I have. Not because of your musical talent, nor your proficiency at bedding women and certainly not because you are a man without a family – though I did have you down as an only child, I must admit. No, dear, dear Jaskier, you are my friend for many reasons, your courage for one. You have been to places and taken part in things more dangerous than any normal man and from what I gather, certainly any of your siblings would readily involve themselves in. You have also saved me more times and in more ways than I can count. You are loyal, a horrible wretch, hilarious and utterly unique and with qualities I cannot even put into words, for I am no poet, but all of which make you my very dear friend and that will not change whether you are lonesome Jaskier or Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove, one of fourteen or even a hundred siblings, all of whom play the lute with the exception of Jennifer who plays the triangle. You are my friend Jaskier, and always will be.”

The bard looked at Geralt with eyes shimmering with tears and, just as Geralt though he would speak, Jaskier turned his head an vomited into a plant pot.

[stabbedinthenameofscience]

Tom Hiddleston's lanky nature, long legs, long fingers, are some of the physical features that have drawn me.

Some stories to bring about why:

A moment in time- Albion, MI, where I lived before here. I'm tutoring in a GED program. One of the other tutors notices my hands. I have long fingers. The joints are a little angular, thanks to the hypermobility and the arthritis that has already started to damage them (I am in my early 20s at this time). He tells me he's never seen hands like mine. Fingers like mine. Lanky. I've never thought of them as pretty, though at one time I considered they might be elegant. I could do pretty things with rings, especially in tiers, some floating above my second knuckles.

But this person...he tells me of this syndrome he's read about, how these hands are irregular, different, something that's a sign of a hidden something worse. Something I should (or shouldn't look up). And it did two things. 1) It sent me down a reading rabbit hole that scared me for a while, before I realized this was an unrealistic fear. 2) It made me incredibly self-conscious about my hands and planted that seed of self-doubt that I no longer saw them as something neutral, or simply hands, but something odd, awkward, abnormal. That lasted for years. I've gotten more neutral about them over the years, especially as I start wondering when their function is just going to impede the things I love to do, including writing. They aren't just hands. They are a part of me this degenerative disorder may some day claim and that scares the living fuck out of me. They are something I need to use as much as I can now, strengthen, and enjoy what they can do for me, what I can do with them, regardless of how they look. I can take pride in the strength of these hands (when I have it), with the fact they can type, on a good day, upwards of 70 words in a minute (often with surprising accuracy). I can take pride in their aptitude with tools, with the way my long fingers can reach things others can't, or I can steady them to the point where, when they don't shake, can paint a beautiful line, courtesy of my training in scene painting. They can make, and they can make beautiful things. I'm making my own wedding dress, which, while not traditional by any stretch, is something that is still a feat I can take incredible pride in.

These hands have held children, built a life, and repaired things I've been told were irreparable or only worth the rubbish bin.

And yet, thanks to one person's fascination with them so many years ago (going on twelve at this point), the damage was done and I still look at them in some moments of self-doubt and insecurity and think they're ugly, they're "old person hands" (I turn 37 this year and aging so early is another insecurity of mine), they're spider-like, they're too "thin" (in that my tendons and veins are clearly visible under the skin's surface on the back of my hands) and my knuckles are a little too imperfect, made all the more visible by how slender they are. And that they swell in the humidity, that the arthritis makes me unable to some days wear my engagement ring and the little copper key ring that both are dear to me...these things make me resent them at times. There's something "wrong" with them (which I know is utter bullshit- they're just hands, they are a part of my body, and they will serve me well until they won't).

I've also dealt with a life-long insecurity about my long legs. Dancer legs (14 years of ballet, many of tumbing, many of tap, and a few of jazz). Legs with strength and grace, but also lanky legs. I'm all leg. Legs that won't quit. Unwanted attention from a cluster of frat boys while I was walking in a short dress with my mother on the campus of Michigan State University and was still in high school. I stopped wearing shorts. I stopped wearing skirts above my knees. Because my knees are too angular (like the rest of me), knobby, and damaged thanks to scars from a surgery in the attempt to save the right one from the arthritis that started with it and has crept into other areas of my body. Again, attention in a moment I definitely didn't want it cracked and broke the self-esteem that has, for some reason, always been fragile. For years, I've been sensitive about my legs, initially because of the scars, small and faded as they are. But the trauma that one knee left me with, that my arthritis continually brings back, continually reminds me exists, gifted me with deep insecurities about my knees, compounded with the dipshit comments of adult men to a teenage child.

I've never seen these things as valuable. At their best, they are body-neutral. At their lowest, they are things that bring shame, doubt, embarrassment, unwanted attention and gaping.

And so, when I am a young adult a decade ago, just turning 27, pregnant with my first child, my body a mess from the pregnancy (from swelling, the awfulness of weight gain is to arthritic knees, the looseness of my hips that shift in ways I know aren't normal, the intense lower back pain, and the nausea that never abates), I see Thor. And there on screen is a young man only a few years older than myself with lanky legs and long, elegant fingers. In that moment, I'm drawn to how theses features don't put me off in the way they do in myself. I seem something of a commonality with this rising star in a movie that is essentially space Shakespeare that stars one of my favourite heavyweight actors (Sir Anthony Hopkins) and is directed by an artist I have admired for years at that point. The entire movie stands out to me and thrills me, calling to me as theatre on the silver screen, the Shakespearean and classical acting evident and threaded throughout the entire thing.

And it is beautiful to me.

And so is this man with features I'd rejected in myself, one a decade (my legs) and one only for a few years (my hands).

It probably seems odd that this moment was a branching point in the way I've handled these insecurities, but it was. I still won't wear skirts that show my legs. I still refuse to wear shorts. But these things also come from the habit of not shaving my legs, not generally because I resent they are long and lanky, just like the rest of me. Every movie I've seen with Tom Hiddleston when I feel myself smile at this lovely human (physically) who also has a public persona that is witty and soft-spoken, a nerd about theatre, who likes to explain acting process, who digs into literature with excitement...there's a moment of realization that I'm finding someone on my "tea list" (I'm mostly asexual- it's not a snog/shag list, it's a "take tea with and fall into the joy of conversation" list) that has a body with a few features like mine. And while I'm primarily smiling because seeing those performances brings me deep happiness, there's a corner of my mind that is reminded I am OK as I am, I need to just accept this is the body I have, and I can embrace it as what it is and let it do for me what I need it to, taking pride in the capabilities I have in these moments and reminding myself I am always running from time in a countdown before this auto-immune disorder steals these things from me.

So...strangely enough, Tom Hiddleston is attractive to me because his existence as he is reminds me that my physical being is alright.

There is a part of me that would really like him to know this. I don't know why. But I think it would be nice for him to know that his existence on this planet hasn't just made people happy because of his skills, but that it has reassured one person that their body can be fine, maybe even beautiful or elegant (in time), just because he is.

[lucas-koh]

Stitches - Bryce Lahela x MC XI

Parts 1-10 linked in bio!

Only somewhat canon compliant.

Song: sex (catching feelings) - EDEN

Rating: M; sexual content, swearing, mentions of death, drinking

Word Count: 4261

Taglist: @lahellacute @lahamseiroshoe @anotherbeingsworld @fuseboxmusebox @choicesficwriterscreations @bubblelaureno @bratzlahela @eleanorbloom @bryceslahela @thegreentwin @kelseaaa || please let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from this list

Chapter Eleven: Tequila Flavoured Sutures

And ring in the New Year they did, for hours and hours and hours. There was little concern about the noise they were making due to the fact that everyone was passed out from alcohol by that point.

—-

It took almost the entire month of January until Suki had a day off, in fact, two days off. She skipped over her birthday on the 18th, opting for takeout and a movie (and not telling anyone it was her birthday so they wouldn’t make a fuss). Yay to twenty-eight. Her plans for her days off initially involved those chips and candy she didn’t get to indulge in before; but then she thought about Bryce’s words the last time ‘…and you didn’t even think to invite me?’ And immediately caved. She did want to see him after such a long time. Especially after how he was in bed at New Years…

Santa Fe: 👃yours?

Scalpel Jockey: i finish in a couple hours?

Santa Fe: cool, i’ll be there

Scalpel Jockey: 😈

So after a couple of hours Suki arrived at Bryce’s place. Pretty much as soon as she stepped through the door she was rushing Bryce’s shirt off.

“Woah, someone’s eager.”

“It’s been a little while.”

—-

A chunk of time and a few rounds later, Bryce and Suki caught their breath on his bed. Suki wasn’t ready for the night to end, she was pretty horny still, and she had the day off tomorrow, too.

“Hey,” she grinned with mischief and sudden inspiration in her eyes, she had missed out on birthday fun after all, “wanna get drunk and do body shots?”

“Absolutely,” Bryce bit his lip and his eyelids sunk with desire. Suki already knew this would be an interesting night.

They partially dressed and headed into the kitchen to grab Bryce’s alcohol. He crouched down to a little cupboard in the corner of his kitchen.

“Oh.” He pulled a bottle of rum from the cupboard. There was barely anything left in it.

“Shit,” Suki laughed.

“I can grab something from the convenience store?”

“Eh, why not, I’ll come along.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Some fresh air might be nice after all that… exertion.”

So Bryce and Suki put on the rest of their clothes and headed out to walk to the store. The late January cold was biting but neither of them noticed much.

On the walk they talked about everything and nothing, like they were old friends catching up after too long away. Suki tried to ignore the fact that their hands brushed when they walked too close together. That the cold metal of his rings sent a jolt through the nerves in her fingers. She also tried to ignore the fact that made her think about holding that hand. Back on the first day, when they’d danced to The Stone Roses, when he’d asked if she wanted to be adored and made her scramble under his gaze. And then the many times she’d gripped his hand while he was fucking her into oblivion, letting it press her own into the mattress with pressure, his fingers fitting between her own desperately and needing like puzzle pieces. Her nails digging into the back of his hand and vice versa. She remembered how that first time and all the times since their hands had felt right, like an old key and lock with a very specific shape.

Once they reached the store, they picked up two bottles of tequila, and some fresh limes.

“I’ll pay,” Bryce rushed in front of her, “I’ll keep whatever’s left over.”

“Not if we drink it all,” she teased.

“That’s 70cl each, I think not,” Bryce chuckled as the cashier put the bottles in their over-used old plastic bag for them. Suki pulled the full bag from the counter once Bryce had paid.

“Can’t handle it?”

“Thanks man,” Bryce said to the cashier and they began to make their way outside. “As doctors I think we both know 70cl is like, death limits.”

“Long term, maybe,” she shrugged. When she saw the look Bryce was giving her, she added, “I’m joking, you dumbass! I’m not sure why you even bought two bottles.”

“Eh, saves coming down here again.”

“Lazy-ass.”

They pushed open the door to step into the cold outside. Bryce shook his head affectionately and laughed at Suki, despite the conversation being barely funny.

As he laughed, Bryce stumbled backwards off the step up to the shop and into a man drinking just outside the store.

“Oops, sorry man,” he grinned an apology. It was lighthearted and accidental and that should’ve been the end of it. But this dude did not look happy.

“Hey Buddy, are you looking for a fight?”

“No, not at all – just an accident, dude.”

“Are you fuckin’ sure?” The man signalled down to the ground where a vodka bottle was smashed into large pieces.

“I’m sorry, I’ll buy you another.”

Suki was beginning to feel very stressed. Confrontation was her least favourite thing ever. She pulled one of the tequila bottles from her bag.

“Here, sir. Have this. He really didn’t mean to break it.”

“Tell your boyfriend to be more careful,” he spat.

Suki didn’t want to provoke him any more by correcting him, but she also didn’t want him to keep talking smack. Hearing this guy get so worked up over Bryce’s mere mistake was enough to give Suki a major adrenaline and confidence boost.

“He tripped, and then apologised immediately. We offered to buy you another bottle, and even offered up our own. Maybe you need to calm down.” Her voice was slightly raised and she was starting to see red from anger.

“Suki-“ Bryce started, holding a hand out as though to shield her.

But this man was very intoxicated and clearly in the mood to be a dick, because he walked over to Suki and shoved her to the floor. It was like everything was moving in fast forward because it happened in just seconds. And then all of a sudden Suki was on the other side of the coin and in slow motion, stumbling down to the concrete. In the process the tequila in the dishevelled bag in her hand also smashed through the worn plastic and to the floor and Suki, in trying to break her fall, stumbled back on her hands. She winced as her hand dug right into one particularly sharp shard of glass.

“Shit.”

The man’s eyes widened as he noticed what he’d done and the absolute rage and contempt on Bryce’s face. Bryce was furious. Suki had never seen him so mad. Not even that day he’d lost the surgery. And it wasn’t cartoon smoke-out-the-ears fury either, it was scary. Pure. The drunkard was clearly terrified by Bryce’s expression and his tightly clenching fists and he scarpered.

“HEY! ASSHOLE!” Bryce shouted after him, running down the road after him a bit. Suki was surprised at how fast he was running. He got a little ways down the sidewalk when the other man crossed a traffic-filled road. Bryce looked back and saw Suki on the floor - he knew his priority was her.

He returned to where she was now sat on the floor, examining the glass shoved into her hand and crumbs of concrete around the area, too. The aroma of tequila mixed with blood was overwhelming. Suki was honestly feeling a mixture of shell-shock and dizzy headiness.

“Fuck,” Bryce said, crouching beside her and taking her hand in his like the very limb was made of glass. “I’ll fucking kill him. Does anywhere else hurt? Are you okay emotionally?”

His deep brown eyes searched hers, desperate concern clouding them. All traces of the absolute anger of before were gone, only solicitude and tunnelled focus on the woman before him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Maybe a bruise on my butt but I’ve had worse. What a dick.”

Bryce held the underside of her hand in both of his, securing her wrist steady, and scrunched his face up as he inspected it. “We need to get the glass out of this.”

“Easy, it’s only the one piece.” Suki tried not to yelp as she pulled the shard from her palm.

“Suki!” Bryce chastised.

“It’s all good, see?”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just do that after nine years of medical training.”

“It’s fine,” she assured him, hoping her eyes were telling him so too. Sure, it hurt, but it wasn’t enough to make a big deal out of.

“You should let me take you to the emergency room.”

“Bryce. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”

He winced as he looked at the blood still pouring from the gash in her hand. “I swear I’ll deck that guy if I ever see him again. It’ll heal much better if you go to the ER and get stitches. The last thing a doctor needs is nerve damage.”

“Bryce.”

“Fine, then you’re coming back to mine and letting me stitch it.”

“Bryce!” Suki was feeling like a broken record, but honestly at that moment, a combination of shock and the odd feeling Bryce’s eyes gave her was making it a little difficult to access her full word library.

“Don’t wear my name out,” he winked, keeping one hand on hers and placing the other round her waist as he helped pull her up from the ground. She was sure to grab the unaffected tequila bottle and limes with her functioning hand.

“I could’ve stood up by myself you know, my legs are fine.”

“I’m keeping this hand so you don’t do anything else to it,” he said, taking Suki’s wrist to hold her bleeding hand above her heart, and began to pull her along with him. She sighed but let him pull her along, anything to get him not to go after that guy. She didn’t need the further mortification.

The walk back had lost the vibe of the walk there; solemn and sober. Mostly filled with Bryce muttering things about the man and retained asking of Suki’s well-being.

Bryce held her wrist the entire way, catching most of the leftover dripping blood on his own hand.

They reached Bryce’s apartment and he unlocked the door for them, closed it behind him, and then led Suki over to the sofa.

“Stay there,” he instructed before disappearing into the kitchen. Seconds later he re-emerged with a sizeable first aid kit.

“That’s big,” Suki laughed, a little more colour in her cheeks now that they were inside, “I would say you’re compensating for something but...”

“But you know I’m not,” he grinned smugly as he perched beside her.

Bryce was ever so delicate as he held Suki’s hand and cleaned away the blood with an antiseptic wipe. She winced the first time the cool chemical wipe made contact with the gash which caused Bryce to immediately stop and look at her. She gave him a little nod to continue. He did his best to be careful as he moved the skin around a bit under his phone flashlight to see if any glass was lingering.

“I swear Suki if this heals and there’s still glass in there because you wouldn’t let me take you to the ER, you’ll never hear the end of this.”

“Fine, but I trust your 20/20 vision and steady scalpel hand.”

“As you should.”

Once the wound was clean and Bryce had checked multiple times for fragments of glass, he pulled his suture kit from the box.

Watching Bryce steady the curved needle end in some tweezers was artful. He was so practised, so sure. The way his pretty features furrowed together slightly in focus was magnetising. She was amazed at how steady his hands were, how such large appendages could look so fine and delicate. Each stitch pulled through was neat and even, Suki’s eyes flicking between the stitches and Bryce’s facial expression. It was piercing her skin but it was like she couldn’t feel it. His other hand remained beneath hers, holding it up and keeping it from shaking. Then Bryce secured the stitches and started to wrap some bandage around for extra protection.

Bryce finished off his bandaging by tucking it in at the back of her hand. He held her hand, still.

“It’s going to scar,” he sighed.

“What’s a doctor without a few scars?”

“Touché.”

“Thank you for doing this.”

“It was no question.”

Suki couldn’t help but notice the way Bryce’s thumb soothed the back of the hand it was holding. She looked up to the clock. It had only been an hour since they’d left for drinks. Eventful hour.

Eventually Bryce seemed to notice his hand and removed it from hers.

“What about those body shots then?” She smirked.

“You’re hurt.”

“It’s a cut on my hand, I was planning on doing these shots with my mouth…”

Bryce raised his eyebrows and licked his lips. “Well, we did manage to salvage one bottle.”

“Not to mention it has been secured by ‘the best surgical intern at Edenbrook’.”

“Oh you’re damn fucking right. Fine, you know how to convince a guy. We’re gonna take it careful though, okay?”

“Deal. On which I will not shake my hand.”

He laughed and got up to fetch the shot glasses from the kitchen, beckoning her over.

“The counter will be best.”

Suki laid down first, letting Bryce slip her top over her head (with which he was incredibly careful with her hand), and slide her pants down her legs until she was laying on his kitchen island in only her underwear.

“Now, this is a sight that could encourage me to be in the kitchen more,” Bryce laughed, trailing a finger up and down her arm and causing her to tremble.

“Still haven’t learned any recipes, huh?”

“No. But there’s no way in hell we’re talking about cooking right now.”

Bryce licked a finger and trailed it slowly between Suki’s breasts, then sprinkled some salt over that area. He rested the lime wedge on her stomach. Finally he filled a shot glass with the spirit and placed it in her mouth. She was trying not to laugh too hard so that she didn’t spill the tequila all over her face.

“Ready?” He smirked. She lifted her good hand in an ‘ok’ sign.

As Bryce leaned down towards Suki’s chest, his face was hungry, craving. That look was making Suki’s stomach flip all kinds of directions. He sensuously licked his tongue up between her breasts, catching each grain of salt. He laughed a little as he moved to collect the shot glass in his own mouth. Their lips touched briefly as he secured it in his mouth, then he threw his head back and downed the shot immediately. Then rather swiftly Bryce moved down to Suki’s stomach to suck all the juice from the lime and counter the sharp tequila flavour.

“Okay, that was a really good idea,” he exhaled in the way one does after a strong shot of alcohol. Bryce took another three shots from various parts of Suki’s body; for the last two she lay on her stomach and he used spots such as the nape of her neck, small of her back, and asscheek. The two of them were a messy mix of laughing the whole time, and really enjoying the whole thing.

“Right? My turn now.”

Bryce and Suki switched places, and he threw all his clothing bar underpants off towards the lounge.

Suki used her tongue to dampen the line in the middle of Bryce’s abs for the salt, balanced the shot glass precariously on the flat part of his chest, and placed the lime in his mouth.

She was slow and tantalising as she lapped up the salt, swift as she took the shot, and then there was the lime. She leant down to suck out the sour juice, but kept the lime in his mouth the entire time she drained it. It was an odd but exciting semi-kiss.

After a couple more shots Suki had a new idea.

“Wait, wait,” she laughed, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“What?”

“What if… I poured a bit on your stomach and licked it up…” she was laughing a lot, but it was obvious the idea appealed a lot to her.

“Do it.”

She placed a hand on his stomach to steady him before she planned to carefully pour the liquid over him.

“Hey, careful with that hand,” Bryce nudged, noticing it pressed flat on his body.

“Yes, yes, Dr. Lahela,” she teased.

Time seemed to fly by as the pair took shot after shot, broken up by messy intoxicated kisses, neither realising that Suki’s tolerance was far lower than Bryce’s. After losing count, they wordlessly abandoned the game, relocating to dance around stupidly in their underwear in the living room. Suki may or may not have been swigging tequila directly from the bottle at that point.

A number of songs played and then:

“I’m… pretty drunk,” Suki laughed, closing her eyes and letting herself sway a bit.

“Same!” Bryce enthused, before Suki began to topple over towards the sofa, “woah! Okay, you’re more drunk than me.” He giggled as he caught her fall. Now he was sitting on the floor with Suki’s jelly-like body in his arms. He kept a weary eye on her bandaged hand.

Yes, Bryce was drunk, but the moment he needed to be sensible or protective it was like a switch went off in his brain.

Her eyes were still shut and a blissful smile spread over her face. “Kiss me.”

Bryce leaned in and gave her a chaste peck to the lips.

“I know you can kiss better than that,” she echoed his words from their epic kiss.

“Not when you’re drunker than me I can’t.”

“Boohoo.”

“We should get you home. I’ll come with, I’m not sure I’m comfortable putting you in an Uber alone.”

“I don’t think I can walk very far, Bryyyceee.”

“Okay, you can have my bed then. I’ll take the sofa.”

“Nooooo,” she brought up her limp hands to grab either side of his face, visibly wincing a bit when the bandaged one made contact with his face. “Sleep with me.”

“Clothed? Sure.” Bryce took her damaged hand in his own and held it away from any pain risks.

“Nopeeee,” Suki’s remaining clumsy hand began to slide down Bryce’s chest and fiddle with the band of his boxers. He laughed and grabbed them both with his free hand to stop her.

“I’m not having sex with you again tonight.”

“Meanie.”

“Okay.” He chuckled again.

“But will you sleep with me? Like, to make sure I don’t throw up in the night or something.”

“Sure, miss tequila.”

Bryce stood and pulled Suki up with him, her eyes fluttering open at the movement, and supported her in the walk to his bedroom.

“Are you cold? I have some pyjamas if you’d like,” he offered when they got there, still holding her tightly to his side.

She shook her head, but didn’t seem sure. She looked up to Bryce with wide eyes and a startled expression like she was only just really seeing him.

“Bathroom,” she choked out, and Bryce rushed her towards his en-suite. He supported her all the way to her eventually emptying the contents of her stomach into his toilet bowl.

He held her hair back from her face as she very inelegantly upchucked into Bryce’s toilet a few times.

“I’m sorry,” she looked up at him, eyes wide and apologetic, “I didn’t mean to drink so much I’m just…” nervous around you. Stupidly feeling ways I shouldn’t for my fuck Buddy. Wanted you to see me as fun and free-spirited. Now I’m just embarrassing myself.

“You don’t need to explain yourself. It’s okay.”

Once it was clear nothing else was coming out, Bryce helped Suki drink from a glass of water, and briefly left the room for her to pee.

Bryce was gentle as he ran a spare (unused) toothbrush around her mouth and directed her head to the sink each time to spit.

Suki wasn’t coherent enough to ramble all her apologies and thanks’, but she was so grateful. Could this man stop being so amazing, please? I’m trying to stop being weird, here.

Eventually Bryce was able to help Suki into some of his pyjamas, somehow without looking at all. Seeing a very drunk naked girl is not the same, even if he had seen said girl naked many times prior. Then he helped her into bed and she collapsed against his pillow like a rag doll. He climbed into bed beside her, careful to keep his distance.

“Bryce…” she slurred, the sleep clear in her voice. “You’re a really great guy. I’m glad we’re…” Suki was going to say friends, but it felt wrong coming out of her mouth at that moment. “I’m glad I know you.”

“Yeah, I’m glad I know you too.” Bryce reached up a hand to stroke her cheek. She sighed into his hand, moving a bit cat-like.

“Since you wouldn’t fuck me, will you at least cuddle me?”

Bryce laughed. “Of course.”

“You are so great. So great. Great guy.” As she mumbled these words drunkenly it was clear the unconsciousness was taking over.

Bryce rolled towards her and cradled her into his chest, holding her tightly as though it had been a long time coming.

Bryce’s breaths came gently over Suki’s forehead. And after a few minutes, when he was sure she’d fallen asleep, he spoke ever so quietly.

“If only you knew what a screw up I was,” he muttered. Suki may have been drunk and spewing shit she wouldn’t sober, but her ears were working fine. And she would remember this in the morning. Despite the intoxication she knew such out of pocket words would be something she’d recall. She knew then to keep as still as she could, not alerting to him that she was awake or coherent.

—-

When Suki woke up, her pillow was hard. Her duvet was gripping her waist kind of tightly, too. As she nuzzled into the pillow her senses were invigorated with a sudden and familiar scent: suddenly most of the nights events clocked in her brain.

Sex with Bryce. Walk to convenience store. Accidental beef with drunk man. Damaged hand. Bryce stitching up said hand. Body shots. Lots of body shots. Random blank moment. Oh god - throwing up in Bryce’s toilet. Being dressed by a closed-eye Bryce. Finally falling into bed. Those words.

What the hell could he have meant by that last night? If only I knew what a screw up he was? As far as I’m concerned right now he’s an angel sent from above to deal with a problematically drunk Suki.

He was breathing gently beneath her, quiet noises at each exhale. She noticed as she listened to the rhythm of his heart, that her heart was beating in time with his.

Maybe she should’ve left. After all, she’d ended up causing a lot of trouble for Bryce. And, she’d stayed the night. Maybe if she left before he woke up it wouldn’t count that she’d broken the rule.

But before she could truly agonise over her decision, Bryce stirred, blinking awake and looking down at her.

“Hey,” he smiled. To Suki’s surprise his arm remained around her waist. Okay, I’m surprised he doesn’t hate me. Then again, he wouldn’t be the type to be open about hating someone.

“Hey,” she replied quietly, looking up at him from his chest. “So… I was pretty drunk last night.”

“Yeah. I thought I was too and then you fell over. The decline was pretty quick after that.”

“I’m so sorry. That you had to see me like that, look after me, and then I hijacked your bed too… it wasn’t appropriate of me and it was unfair on you.”

“It’s okay, Suki. You’d do the same for me. We’re friends and making sure you’re okay and looked after is important to me,” he nodded sincerely before grinning and adding, “plus, now I have plenty of blackmail material.”

“God I was awful wasn’t I?”

He chuckled.

Oh shit. “Did I say anything really bad? If I did please ignore it because I talk out of my ass when I’m drunk I’m sure it was utter nonsense.”

“If you did, I think I’ll keep it to myself.”

Ughhhhh. She groaned loudly and buried her face into his chest so that she didn’t have to see that stupid smirk. Now my mind will race about what I could’ve said for the rest of time.

Suki actually felt like hitting Bryce as his large hand slowly soothed her back.

He had to stop doing so much for her, being so exemplary, because it was adding to a problem that had been brewing in Suki for a while. He’d comforted her in the supply closet twice, he’d looked after Tommy, he’d held her hair back while she was sick and let her stay the night, and he’d stitched up her wound so carefully and precisely. He’d even nearly beat up that guy for her.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit.

She’d broken her promise, because it wasn’t just about sex anymore. Truthfully, maybe it never was.

There was absolutely no way she could swing it any longer. Suki Moore liked Bryce Lahela. As more than a friend, more than a body. She was enamoured by him, and had no clue what to do about it.

[calleo-bricriu]

Me: Has drafts. Also me: Has replies already written in my head. ALSO ME: “Typing is hard...”

In my defense, I’m in the home stretch of closing on a house and have to start actually working out and executing the steps to get all my shit packed up and moved from this place--I still have shit from when we bought the house in 2004 that STILL ISN’T UNPACKED, it’s mostly old computer games and I’ll probably just leave it to be finally trashed, but there’s like 5 huge boxes of it in the closet.

The house in question is an amazing little thing built in 1879 and the most work I’ll have to do on it:

1. Wait for squirrel in the garage soffits to have her babies grow up and leave, then seal the hole.

2. Strip the goddamned white paint off of all the interior wood trim; it’s the original wood trim, there’s a place for parlor doors (though they’re long gone). I just...the original woodwork is gorgeous, the exterior facing parts of the doors still have it, they’d a deep mahogany with wonderful grain. They’re the original doors from 1879 that have just been fitted with more modern deadbolts but still have the original knobs with skeleton key holes (long since blocked off because security).

3. P A I N T. I hate neutrals. I hate neutrals and, of course, when people flip a house they try to paint it in neutrals so it has a broader appeal and so potential buyers can more easily see their stuff in there, but the only thing worse than rental beige is rental tan. Gotta get some damn color in there. It might not be a big old Victorian house but it’s a Victorian house. The interior and exterior should be as obnoxiously bright as possible.

4. Get the roof redone because I know I have the money for it not, I don’t know that I’ll have it in 5-7 years.

5. Consider residing; it has white vinyl, and vinyl can be painted but it doesn’t last terribly long. Might just have it painted though. I don’t want a boring ass white house when the big rental next door is bright blue. Another roof situation, I have the money now.

6. Fix the garage door opener; it works but the chain is off the track so it doesn’t actually lift the door. 7. Probably replace the furnace and water heater; there’s nothing wrong with them but they are  from 1996, and new ones would be way more efficient.

8. Uh...furniture. All I’m taking with me is the stuff in my office and the bed I sleep in. Probably gonna need more than that.

9. Make the call on whether I want to have an electrician put in 220 volt stuff for an electric dryer or be okay with using the as feed up to that little room. Probably will just use the gas feed as it’s there. Discovered the unplugged thing on the floor in that room goes to underfloor heating meant to be used in the winter as it’s just a 3 season porch so it gets cold.

10. Be forever amazed that the original electrical wiring is still present (though largely spliced into modern wiring save for the light coming down from the ceiling in the closet--you can see the original, still insulated cord clearly--and into dining room which will be probably filled with reptiles, AND that it works and has been inspected by an actual electrician and deemed safe. 100amp breaker, but that’s not so bad, it’s a 150 breaker here and nothing ever blows.

11. ...smoke alarms and a CO alarm, as there are none, which is fine, nobody has been living there for the two-ish years the guy was rennovating it.

12. Fix the one glass pane that’s missing in the bedroom; storm window is still present and not broken/cracked but one really should have double panes windows here.

13. Oh yeah, and curtains.

14. Getting the second door that’s painted shut opened back up, the stupid white paint stripped form it, and getting a modern deadbolt put in so it’s a usable, safe door to be able to open. It’s the side door to what was the parlor and is now the living room.

15. Possibly look at where the parlor door was after having the paint stripped and see if the pockets are still present; if they are, see about getting replica doors to match the existing ones put in. Who wouldn’t want to be able to dramatically open parlor doors or tell someone to step into their parlor?

Now you get pics I took while I was there for the home inspection!

The new LED lightbulb put into a fixture from 1879:

Big kitchen, fuckton of storage, two flour bins by the stove; I love flour bins, the house I grew up in had them as did my grandparents’ houses. As long as you clean them out thoroughly when they’re empty they’re great!

📷

The exterior of the side parlor door that's painted shut.

The front door (the interior side is painted white). Original knob and skeleton key lock from when the house was built.

This house survived being a cheap, rundown student rental for nearly 40 years and it still has so much of its original stuff.

The stairs to the basement and crawlspace that looks like something out of a horror movie, so naturally I love it.

This is directly inside the crawlspace. It's absolutely perfect for storing potatoes, root vegetables, and squash--and for putting jars of stuff to ferment. It's a good 10 degrees colder than the rest of the area and is meant to be used for exactly what I just mentioned. I love that it's still there.

Also here's the entrance to the crawlspace.

...and the crawlspace. The tiny 'basement' is just a room with a few shelves I need to replace as they were using untreated plywood in the metal frame and most of it is moldy or starting to rot because untreated. Otherwise all that's in there is the furnace and water heater. The furnace has some open drain ports and I may put a humidifier down there to run 24/7 because it is, as most basements that aren't fully finished around here, a bit damp.

TL;DR: I may be largely MIA or not as quick to respond as I usually am because I’ll be legit running around like a lunatic moving all my stuff, setting up my new old house (MINE, ONLY MINE, no ex, no other people, JUST. ME. I loved living alone before I got married, and always thought I’d be happier still living alone even while married, which may be a sign that it was a bad decision, but I really just like living alone with a bunch of animals.

Also I've never seen a house that has an attic only accessible from the outside and using a ladder but that's what we have here; there's a big panel that I thought was just a vent that's really a...door.

The back yard is huge, already fenced, has a fire pit, has no fucking grass either, it's all native wild plants with some grape vines in a few areas; big mature ones too.

The front yard also has no grass, which, again, great, I'd planned to tear out any lawn at the house I got anyway. Front yard is still a bit bare so I may just coat it with clover. The only thing I'll have to mow is the boulevard and I can do that with a manual mower or be the extra strange neighbor and use a scythe--and yes I have one, I took it from my grandpa's barn after he died. They also planted a ton of ferns in the front yard for some reason, but I like ferns so they can stay. Oh and there's an entire workshop behind the garage which means I still will have an inside place to keep making wands.

[loruleanheart]

Desired Fate, Chapter 8

Read on ff.net

Read on AO3

The sky was an overcast grey, giving little light to Zelda’s chambers as the princess sat on a small settee, trying to focus on the book she held which contained her carefully written research notes. Urbosa, Link, and Impa had left that morning for Gerudo Desert where they would all board the Divine Beast, Vah Naboris, and set out for the Yiga Hideout.

There was a light knock at her door.

“Come in.” 

Zelda turned her head to see one of her ladies-in-waiting holding a tray with a teapot and a cup for her.

“Thought this might lift your spirits, Your Highness.”

This gave Zelda pause. Was it that apparent she was feeling low? 

“That’s very thoughtful of you, thank you.” The Princess acknowledged but barely smiled.

The attendant poured her a cup and gave a bow before turning to leave.

The tea gave off a pleasant earthy aroma, and as Zelda waited for it to cool she anxiously wondered what sort of news her champions would return with.

She redirected her attention back to her research which she’d gathered from books at the Royal Tech Lab as well as the castle’s library. She skimmed what she’d written down, finding it helpful to return to these notes every so often. Perhaps she’d add more soon where she’d record everything she’d learned thanks to the little Guardian with knowledge of the future.

 This made her recall records that Robbie and Purah had shared with her before the arrival of that mysterious Guardian. These records indicated that there were many different types of Guardians stored in five giant columns that rested beneath the castle. These Guardians would be key in combating the Calamity, just as they had 10,000 years ago.

But how do I access them? Despite knowing every inch of the castle, I’ve never seen these columns. They must be buried deep underground, but I can’t give up looking… Even if I can’t find the columns themselves, maybe there’s something to activate them?

She thought she’d go insane from the feeling of impending doom if she didn’t do everything she could. Especially after being excluded from accompanying Urbosa to the Yiga Hideout, Zelda was feeling especially useless. She couldn’t afford to waste a single moment. She could at least agree with her father on that, even if they didn’t see eye to eye on what constituted a waste of time. 

As unproductive as she was feeling, she forced herself towards the first area that came to mind for her to begin her search. She made her way to the secret passage in the library that led to the docks, praying she wouldn’t cross paths with her father on the way there.

After traversing the castle’s long hallways, she reached her destination and breathed a sigh of relief that she had gone unnoticed by castle staff. She began to descend the darkened staircase, illuminated only by torches that lined the natural rock walls.

As she rounded the corner and began to descend the last flight of steps she froze. She wasn’t alone down here. Her heart leapt and she audibly exhaled when she perceived who it was. The strange variation of the Gerudo emblem on the back of the Prophet of Doom’s robe had been etched into her mind both from her meeting with him in Korok Forest as well as the newest image on the Sheikah Slate.

“Halt! Take down your hood.” The princess ordered.

Astor turned to her slowly, appearing caught off guard by her presence. He rolled his eyes and smirked, doing as she asked.

His collarbone length dark hair nearly covered his Hylian ears. He gave her a look as if to say ‘Are you satisfied?’

Zelda stared at the man before her, speechless. A little in relief that he hadn’t put up a fight, but also feeling that he wasn’t as intimidating without his hood. She wondered if he ever got distracted by the braid that hung in front of his right eye. Still, he was undeniably beautiful to her, and she hated herself for thinking so, given who he was and what he’d done and probably would do if she couldn’t stop him

This man is going to be the death of me… If not literally, then figuratively… He seeks to revive Calamity Ganon. You should find him repulsive just from that fact alone. Ugh… What is WRONG with me… I truly am just a failure in more ways than one… I’m just broken… Horribly and irrevocably broken...

Astor was transfixed by the princess’s serene expression as she descended the stairs coming into the light of a nearby torch. She looked at him imploringly, and it unnerved him how she held him in her gaze. She only averted her intense gaze away for a brief moment to sweep a lock of her golden blonde hair away from her face before folding her hands in front of herself in a self-conscious manner. The luxurious fabric of her royal blue dress melded nicely to her figure. This girl, a woman and a queen-in-practice really, was the picture of Hylian beauty, not that Astor would allow himself to acknowledge that. She appeared so out of place in this dark, underground environment. The urge to look away was strong, but still, Astor held her gaze. He almost felt ashamed that this delicate girl was his mortal enemy. She didn’t look capable of sealing Calamity Ganon. She didn’t look like she was capable of sealing anything really, even though he’d so clearly seen it play out in prophetic dreams - more like nightmares, really -  and he knew better. It would have been so easy to call upon his Hollows to end her existence right then and there, but something stopped him.

Zelda spoke softly. “Astor… How did you get in here?” 

It had been such a long time since Astor had been addressed by name. Hearing it on the princess’s lips was somehow sweet.

“You think it would be difficult for me? Don’t insult me! This isn’t my first time.” He said in an intimidating manner, his voice smooth. He’d been called here before by Calamity Ganon. That was when he’d found his Harbinger. He now sensed something or someone different calling him to this place. Normally he’d disregard such a calling. It was just a distraction from his purpose as Calamity Ganon’s chosen. But the pull towards this place on this occasion was so strong, he couldn’t deny he was curious. And it had led him to the princess of Hyrule.

The Princess continued to hold him in her gaze, her voice taking on a more serious intonation. “Here to make another attempt on my life?”

Astor gave a wicked smile, questioning the vision he’d seen of her. Pathetic girl is being run ragged by fate… She’s practically begging to have her thread cut.

“Are you inviting me to do so? The princess with the blood of the goddess volunteering herself as a blood sacrifice to the Calamity… Exquisite… Your power could be mine for the taking forever.” His irises constricted in desire, and then his expressions darkened. “Then maybe I could, at last, get you off my mind….”

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. It was a morbid sentiment, of course, but hearing him say it sent her reeling. There was a strange energy between them, a sort of magnetism. 

“It’s not mine to give. I have my own destiny to fulfill.”

“Your answer doesn’t sound very confident, Your Highness.” He purred.

He’d seen right through her somehow. The Princess’s eyes widened and her face paled a bit in shame. Her lips parted to speak, but she said nothing.

“You… Certainly aren’t what I was expecting. I could never foresee that Hyrule’s princess would spare me, a disciple of Calamity Ganon.” Astor said, his voice held a sense of awe. “I wonder what your appointed knight had to say about that? Where is that despicable little pest? I thought he never left your side.”

Zelda bit the inside of her cheek. “Well, I…  I couldn’t just stand by and watch you get killed.”

“Why not? I nearly succeeded in killing you. And you know I am bound by fate to try again…”

The princess sensed his words were just as hollow as hers. She narrowed her eyes at him, taking a few steps closer to the Prophet of Doom.

He takes a step back, his smile faltering. “You dare to test -” But it was too late, as he was hit with a multitude of images flashing through his mind's eye’. He recoiled, holding his head.

Zelda looked on with concern. “What was that?”

Astor tried to clear his mind, shaking. For a moment he had been back in that strange place that seemed to be an amalgamation of Korok Forest and the Lost Woods. A surreal place where the Silent Princess flowers grow abundant.

“Stay away from me….” He growled.

Zelda blinked, perplexed as to what had just overtaken the prophet.  “Astor… Why would you want to destroy Hyrule? This is your home, too. What have you to gain from destroying it?”

Astor bristled at the question. This foolish royal girl wouldn't be able to comprehend his motivation given her station and role in this world, so he just answered simply, “This world is rightfully Calamity Ganon’s.”

Zelda reflected on this a moment. His answer was off-putting for her to hear, but still, she was determined to better understand what had led him down such a dark path.  “But, why devote yourself to Calamity Ganon? How do you even know Calamity Ganon isn’t using you? Or do you plan to sacrifice yourself for this insane cause?”

Astor recalled Sooga’s words. He wanted so much to lie through his teeth and say yes, but he honestly wasn’t satisfied with that answer. But, to answer truthfully would be a weakness and disloyalty to Lord Ganon. Not that he was ready to accept that the Great Calamity would ever require such a thing of him, or worse betray him.

Instead, he simply said, “My fate is to be at the right hand of Calamity Ganon.”

“I see…” Zelda said unconvinced. “I’m no prophet, but if you continue on your current path you’re almost certainly going to fall, either by the sword that seals the darkness or by your master when your usefulness has ended. Please stop what you’re doing… I… I don’t want to see this dark fate consume you.” Her answer sounded so confident this time.

The prophet’s insides twisted up. He hadn’t been prepared for the princess of Hyrule herself to beseech him in such a forthright manner. No, he had just expected her to oppose him with only righteous anger and nothing else. Why did she care so much? Why did she have to make this so complicated… and even uncomfortable. It was one thing to hear such a warning from Sooga, as rudely as he had put it.  But it was another to hear it again from his mortal enemy, and he was so unaccustomed to kindness. And here she was… She wasn’t begging for her life. She was begging for his. This wasn’t going how he expected. No, she just felt like an unwanted distraction, perhaps even.... a temptation? 

“Spare me, Your Highness, “ He spat. “I don’t need pity from the weakest chain in the goddesses’ bloodline!”

Zelda shifted her posture, turning her head slightly away from him, wounded by his words. He might as well have stabbed her in the heart and left her to bleed. But she held back. If he thought she was going to cry over insults she’d heard before and internalized, he had another thing coming.

“It’s so much more than pity...” Zelda said softly as she looked at the ground, her voice wavering.

However, It was painfully obvious he was a force she wasn’t going to be able to persuade, she thought, losing hope. Not that she was surprised.

Astor turned to go and Zelda let out a little gasp, knowing where he might be going. “Wait… Please, don’t leave…”

He turned and gave her a strange look.

Zelda chose her words carefully, knowing her champions were still in the middle of a dangerous mission at the Yiga Hideout, and she couldn’t put them at risk.

“Astor… If you don’t heed my warning... you will almost certainly face defeat… And it may come sooner than you think…” Zelda wished her final warning wasn’t so cold, so sterile, even vaguely threatening, but it was the best she could do all things considered. Still, she knew the moment he left she’d be in a world of self-loathing and regret. Self-loathing that she cared a little too much for him, and regret that she had failed to stop him.

He scoffed at her warning. “Your pleas are meaningless to me. I am a great seer and prophet of the Calamity. And you… are but a mere nuisance in my path. You will not impede my fate any further. Farewell, Your Highness…” He paused a moment as if hesitant to leave. He almost looked a little sorry. “If you should survive the Calamity... What will I do with you?” And with that, he vanished.

[lhs3020b]

In a very unexpected moment tonight, I found myself writing something. Yes, some actual fiction. Umm, wow. It’s not particularly-polished, I certainly wouldn’t call it “good”, but nonetheless, here is a thing.

This is a ghost from an old, 2015-era writing project of mine. You probably will have seen bits of it before. This would be the opening portion of the novel, if the novel was still in any way a possibility. The two main characters meet and compare notes on themselves and the confusing mess of the world they live in.

(A passing content note: their world is recovering in some ways and has been worse inside both Tai and Corazon’s lifetimes, but it is not a happy place, and some very bad things have happened. So a measure of reader discretion is advised.)

(Also, yes, the ending is quite abrupt - it’s 2 AM so I should probably consider calling it a night.)

Anyway, have about ~3500 words of fiction...

               ‘We have arrived at the Corazon residence,’ the car said.

               Lieutenant Tai Zhang looked up from her phone. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Lock the doors while I’m out, but don’t drive off. I should only be a few minutes.’

               The car said, ‘For insurance purposes I’m instructed to remind you that I have an anti-carjacking protocol-’

               ‘Yes, yes, of course,’ Tai sighed. ‘If one of the locals tries to put you up on bricks, you’ll zap them with a stun charge and zoom off. And howl for the police. Who may even turn up, who knows. And Dr Corazon and I will have to walk back to the Fleet base. I get it, I get it. Now let me get on with my job.’

               The car took the hint and shut up. It wasn’t a full Tech Mind, of course – no way could the Navy afford their contracting rates – but its social simulation unit wasn’t entirely stupid either. The door unfolded upwards. Hot, damp January air flooded in, along with the smells of the city. Vegetation, oil, a hint of sewage and a whiff of something rotten. Actually, compared to the New Dockside area, this wasn’t so bad.

               Tai climbed out of the car; the door hissed down behind her. She took a look around herself. She was stood on a cracked and pitted curbside. Amazingly, it looked like pre-Contact concrete. There was certainly no sign that it had experienced any recent maintenance. To judge from the fractured blocks, some of which lay out of place, it may well not have had any repairs since the early 2040s.

               ‘At least there is a pavement around here,’ Tai muttered. New London had a lot of dirt tracks; the first tsunami had sunk a good chunk of the old city and the quakes had done for a lot of what survived. Rock One, after all, had come down right in the middle of the North Sea. Whilst it had been the smallest of the two impactors, nonetheless it had been big enough. It was fair to say that coastal and near-coastal Europe had had a bad day.

               Just as the car had promised, Corazon’s house was right in front of her. Tai was interested to note that it was a treehouse, clearly post-Contact. All bulbous and round, big fat leaves hanging over its top. Windows and a door had been incorporated into the bioengineered wood. The house-tree seemed fully grown, and from the lichen on the bark, it had to be at least a few years old. As she looked around, Tai saw that most of the neighbouring dwellings were also treehouses, though confusingly, there was a surviving pre-Contact apartment block on the corner of the street. The brickwork and the old-style PVC windows looked incredibly out of place, the building equivalent of a fly stuck in amber.

               Tai fingered the collar of her uniform jacket. She felt uncomfortably-hot. A glance at her phone revealed that the air temperature was hovering around twenty-five degrees Celsius – not exceptionally hot for the time of year, but certainly enough to be unpleasant. No point wasting any time, then. She needed to go and collect their guest.

               Tai opened the little picket-fence gate in front of the house and started down the path. Next to her, an array of solar panels was tracking the Sun. Corazon’s garden also had a backup wind turbine, parked on the opposite side of the path. Apparently the academic didn’t trust the municipal grid. Honestly, Tai couldn’t blame him, though on the other hand it did seem a bit excessive. After all, this was the 2060s, not the ‘50s. Even a chaotic urban mess like New London averaged about six hours’ reliable electricity per day.

               Tai reached the door. She lifted her hand and knocked smartly on it, rapping three times. It was an Academy instinct, repeatedly burnt into her brain by the Fleet’s officer candidate school. You always knocked three times and waited before entering, unless of course you really liked doing lots of push-ups. This January morning was, in Tai’s opinion, far too hot for push-ups.

               She heard some clattering from inside the house. ‘Wait, wait, I’m on my way!’ a muffled voice said. It was male, with an accent she couldn’t quite place.

               The door opened. Tai blinked. ‘Uh,’ she said.

               The man looked at her, seeming a bit confused. Then recognition flickered across his face. ‘Oh of course!’ he said. ‘You’re from the Fleet, aren’t you. They said they’d be sending a car, though I did wonder if it would actually turn up.’

               Tai managed to recover her surprise. She hadn’t realised that her passenger-to-be was old. From his grey hair and wrinkled face, he couldn’t be under fifty. With a slight shiver, Tai realised what that meant – he’d been born, and had grown up, beforehand. Before all of it happened.

               ‘Dr Carlos Corazon, I assume?’ she said. He nodded. ‘Lovely to meet you. I’m Lieutenant Tai Zhang, and I’ve been tasked with bringing you to the shuttle-dock. We’ll be going up to the Relentless together, for the shakedown flight.’

               Corazon blinked. ‘They’re farming out their officers on taxi duty? The Navy really must be a bit strained.’

               Oh great, Corazon was one of those people who thought the Navy was a waste of time. It was certainly a common opinion throughout AU-Earth. Certainly it wasn’t entirely wrong. Even the most powerful human-built warship wouldn’t do much damage to even a small Spiral Fleet cruiser. Still, Tai felt this criticism missed the point somewhat. Even if the AU-E Fleet was mostly an exercise in public relations, it was still important to show that the AU-E had something to offer to the wider Concordium.

               Also, Corazon had another point, though she doubted he realised it. Tai had no sooner arrived at the ship then she’d found herself immediately ordered off it again, to go and collect some random civilian. She supposed it reflected the last-minute chaos going on within the ship’s complement as it got ready for its first ever flight as an actual ship of the line. A lot of the ship’s officers hadn’t even arrived until yesterday; Tai wasn’t even the latest assignee to make their way to their birth. They were due to undock in less than twenty-four hours; this was not the best use of her time. Tai should be down in Engineering, meeting with her department, getting to know the crew’s names and faces and getting their shift-schedules and duty rosters finalised.

               Instead she was here, stood on a doormat somewhere out in New London’s half-resurrected urban carcass.

               ‘Well,’ she said, ‘the sooner we’re under way, the better.’

               The Relentless was the Fleet’s newest warship; its maiden voyage would also be carrying a complement of notaries. Some of them were journalists, some of them were various apparatchiks linked to the current federal coalition government, and a few were people of note from wider society. Dr Corazon was apparently somewhat known within the astronomical community, presumably hence his invitation.

               ‘Cool,’ Corazon said. ‘Just let me grab my bag…’

               He turned around and disappeared back into the house. Tai fought the urge to roll her eyes at his disorganisation. A few moments later, the academic reappeared, clutching a carry-bag. To Tai’s eyes it didn’t look like he had remotely enough changes of clothes – but, she decided that was his problem and not hers.

               ‘This way,’ she said, gesturing him toward the car.

               He closed the door of the house behind him, locking then double-locking it. ‘Just let me arm the security system,’ he said, pulling out his phone. Tai waited patiently as Corazon fiddled with the keys. Something beeped and he looked satisfied. His phone disappeared back into a pocket. This at least was an urge Tai could understand.

               ‘Lots of crime around here?’ she asked.

               He shrugged. ‘Some. Barnet’s not too bad. There are worse boroughs, it’s actually fairly good around here. Most people on this street have formal jobs, you know?’

               ‘That might attract the gangs,’ Tai noted. ‘Rich neighbourhood and all that.’

               Corazon shrugged. ‘My security system is a licensed Tech Mind unit. Non-sentient, of course, but advanced enough to handle itself.’

               ‘That and a treehouse,’ Tai observed. ‘Those are triffid products. You clearly like your aliens.’

               They started walking toward the car. Corazon said, ‘Might as well get used to it. They’re here to stay, you know. I probably know that better than most.’

               ‘If you don’t mind me asking,’ Tai said, ‘how old are you?’

               Corazon rolled his eyes. ‘I knew that question was coming. I get that a lot. Apparently I’m the first old man some of our undergraduates have ever seen.’

               That was unlikely in practise – even today, about twenty percent of the AU-E’s population had been born before 2040 – but it wasn’t entirely-impossible either. People in the mid-to-late 2040s and the ‘50s had produced a lot of kids, and that was probably just as well given how few of them there had been left. The New Baby Boom was showing signs of cooling down, though honestly, that was probably not a bad thing either. The planet wasn’t in a great state, and overshooting its carrying capacity was probably a bad idea.

               ‘You didn’t answer the question,’ Tai said.

               Corazon looked irritated. ‘No, I suppose I didn’t, did I? All right, if you insist, I’m sixty-three. I was born in 2004.’

               Tai blinked. ‘Shit,’ she said.

               ‘Yeah,’ Corazon agreed. There wasn’t any need to elaborate on that one.

               An awkward silence descended as they approached the car. Tai sent the all-clear to the security system. The doors were folding up and quite suddenly, it began to get dark. Tai felt confused – she couldn’t see any clouds and the forecast for the day had been for clear weather.

               ‘Oh,’ Corazon said. ‘Of course. Right on cue!’ He pointed up at the sky.

               Tai glanced quickly upwards. A big bite was eating the side of the Sun. Corazon said, ‘Parasol Two. Bang on time.’

               Oh, of course. Tai had completely forgotten about the parasol-satellite’s scheduled appointment with the Sun.

               ‘Let’s get in the car,’ Tai said. Even though this was a relatively upscale neighbourhood, she didn’t really want to be stood around on the pavement during the parasol-eclipse. There was such a thing as asking for trouble.

               Corazon needed no urging. Moments later they were both safely ensconced in the car. Outside, smoothly and without fuss, an artificial night was falling over the city. Lights flickered on inside buildings, stars bloomed across the now-nightfallen heavens and a few of the streetlights even turned on. The rest were either broken or missing their bulbs.

               ‘Car,’ Tai said, ‘take us to the Fleet’s dockside complex, please.’

               ‘Acknowledged,’ the vehicle’s electronic voice said.

The electric engine gently purred to life and the headlights came on. The car pulled out from the curb and began its journey through the city.

‘It will rain later, I expect,’ Corazon remarked. ‘Once the Parasol moves over, I mean. The drop in air temperature can drive condensation in the clouds.’

The forecast hadn’t mentioned that, but Tai supposed it wouldn’t be surprising if it was wrong.

‘Do you find the eclipses weird?’ Tai asked. She realised, just a moment too late, that the question was probably too personal and probably too judgemental. Her passenger certainly thought so. Even in the internal lights of the car, his face darkened.

‘Young lady,’ Corazon snapped, ‘I find everything about this world weird. This is nothing like the place I thought I’d grow old in. It’s the same planet, but a different universe. Though I’m sure that won’t make much sense to you. From the looks of you I’m guessing you’re a post-Contact child.’

He was, Tai thought, rather patronising. She wondered if it was deliberate. No, she didn’t think so. It was just how he was. Perhaps this had been normal behaviour, perfectly average for the world prior to June the Eighth, 2040.

‘I was born in 2042,’ Tai said. ‘I never knew my parents. They got Lung Rot and died not long after I was born.’

The academic didn’t appear to have heard her. He was still staring upwards at the sky.

‘No,’ Corazon said, ‘at least the eclipses make sense. Giant mirror-satellites in orbit, blocking out some sunlight, keeping the temperatures down. Stopping a damaged atmosphere from frying the planet. People did have ideas like that, you know, before. The Contact War made it worse, but climate change existed before 2040. Hell, I vaguely remember hearing about it back in the 2000s!’

Tai boggled. ‘You remember back then?’

‘A bit. I was six in 2010, remember? I do recall the family being very upset about something around ‘08, though I didn’t really understand it.’

‘What could it have been?’ Tai asked. ‘There weren’t any problems then!’

‘There was a planet-wide economic collapse,’ Corazon said. ‘Though nothing like as bad as what happened in the Forties – or the Twenties, for that matter. Anyway it hardly matters now. It was something we did to ourselves, without any external help.’ He looked at the sky, and shuddered. A haunted expression flooded across his face. ‘You know, not like that.’

The artificial night had filled the sky with stars. Some of them were moving – spacecraft, on their journeys to and from any number of destinations. A lot of them were concentrated in the direction of the Moon, though there was no surprise there. The Moon was the main reason the Spiral Concordium bothered with Sol and its planets, after all. It was indirectly the source of all this trouble.

But Corazon wasn’t looking at any of that. His eyes were locked on something else, lower down in the sky. It was pitted and cratered, a rough spheroid, greyish in colour. It was currently in crescent phase, hanging low in the sky and close to the artifically-occluded Sun. But there was no mistaking it.

‘Rock Three,’ Corazon said. ‘That fucker. The one that would have ended us.’

It was harmless now, of course. The 3008th Division of the Spiral Fleet had seen to that, stabilising it onto a safe-if-low orbit around the Earth. But the engineers of the New And Bountiful Prosperity Combine had done their work correctly – had Rock Three impacted, it would have been sufficient to end the Earth’s biosphere, and hide all the evidence of New Prosperity’s crimes forever. The Moon would have been theirs, along with all its reserves of precious Lovecraftium, and the uninhabitable neighbouring planet would have been passed off as a tragic cosmic accident.

‘Three hundred miles wide,’ Corazon said. ‘They actually towed it in all the way from the Kuiper Disc. It wasn’t even in our records before they tossed it at us. Not even a tsunami-making rock. An ocean-boiling rock.’

Rock Three was now a de facto second moon and a permanent fixture in the Earth’s skies, but it was also something that had very nearly been the tombstone for an entire planet. For all the horror they had inflicted, for all the hundreds of millions of people they’d killed, Rocks One and Two had merely been the opening salvos.

‘And of course they tossed in Lung Rot,’ Tai said. ‘As a nice little fuck-you parting-shot.’

‘Yeah, had that.’ Corazon looked grim, then he shrugged. ‘Wasn’t fun. It was like doing Covid all over again. Just joyous. Gotta love hacking up fungal slime out of your own alveoli all day.’

He shuddered. It was a whole-body convulsion.

The Contact War and the two Rocks had been bad, but it was Lung Rot that had done the real, lasting damage. During the early Forties, people had been dying fast enough that the survival of the species had seemed in question for a time, though in practise the Spiral Concordium would never have allowed that. Even if it required raising a cloned population somewhere else, in some carefully-sterilised biodome on some other planet, the Concordium would not have allowed an actual extinction-event. The whole point of the galactic union, for all of its many flaws, was preventing exactly that sort of horror. The Contact War itself should never have happened, of course, but once the Concordium had belatedly become aware of what New Prosperity was doing, they had moved to shut it down. New Prosperity no longer existed; the entire organisation had been declared traitors and anyone who survived the Battle of Earth had been mercilessly hunted down. If there were any former Prosperity scions left out there somewhere, they knew better by now then to advertise their survival.

Lung Rot had been a vicious punch in the face, a final little parting-present from New Prosperity, the spores air-dropped into multiple locations across the Earth even as the Combine’s forces crumbled under the Spiral assault. No-one was really sure why they’d done it. It had gained them nothing; if Rock Three had left any questions unanswered, then Lung Rot surely had removed any doubt about the Combine’s intentions. Their fall had been absolute, from one of the oldest, wealthiest and most-celebrated organisations in the Milky Way to one of the most-despised collections of traitors who had ever lived.

Suddenly, Tai had to talk. The urge was abrupt, dominating, complete. It was probably also a bad idea, but you didn’t always get the choice with these things. The words were flowing from her mouth, and like it or not, they weren’t going to just magically turn off.

‘My earliest actual memory is when they sprayed the camps,’ Tai said. ‘I was in one of the refugee ones, just another orphaned toddler. I had a cough by then, of course. Everyone did. There was space in our tent – a lot of people had been taken out. New people weren’t coming in, not anymore. I didn’t really know what it meant then, of course. But then one day people were – excited? It was weird. I’d never seen them like that. There was suddenly not any crying. People were hugging each other and smiling. I remember they pulled me out of the tent. People were coming out of the tents, everywhere. There was an actual crowd. Cheering, even! It was some triffids that came through. They were pulling a spray-tank. They sprayed all of us – one of them even shoved the nozzle in my mouth!’

‘And the retroviral agent re-wrote your lungs,’ Corazon noted. ‘So they now secrete a natural fungicide, keeping the Lung Rot mycelium at subclinical levels. Yeah, something similar happened to me. Kind of crazy, one of the happiest days of my life, you know? The day in 2045, when the aliens came to genetically-engineer all of us.’ He shook his head. ‘Flying saucers spraying the cities with bio-agents, and people dancing in the streets below! Would’ve been unimaginable just ten years before.’

This chatter was, of course, a normal thing. Tai had had lots of conversations like this. It was quite an average event for people to compare their traumas – virtually everyone living in the AU-Earth had some emotional burden that they were carrying around with them. It was true that social conditions were improving – things were merely “bad” now, rather then the “borderline-apocalyptic” of twenty years previously – but an important part of getting to know someone was trying to gently figure out where their personal sore spots and pain-points lay. Triggering someone into a flashback episode was generally considered to be a social faux pas, especially if it was done deliberately. There were also practical concerns too. It was difficult for a workplace to function if half its staff were either lying on the floor sobbing or had been driven to flee the building by their own inner demons.

Corazon sighed, shrugged and opened his bag. Tai read that as his cue to dismiss this topic. He’d said his piece. And so, she supposed, had she. He knew not to mention the camps, she knew not to mention Lung Rot. They’d told each other what they needed to know, and now it was time to move smoothly onwards.

To Tai’s surprise, he pulled out a pair of knitting needles and a ball of wool. Moments later, a pair of half-finished socks emerged. ‘I am glad someone decided to save the sheep,’ he remarked. ‘We lost so many of the others.’

Lung Rot had been aimed at humans, of course, but the mycelium was at home in any warm, enclosed, moist, dark space. There had been extinctions all throughout Class Mammalia. A whole host of species now only existed as captive populations in carefully-maintained bio-domes, and they were the lucky ones. Someone had cared enough to try to rescue them, during the end of the world.

And the less said about that, the better.

‘You like knitting?’ Tai asked.

Corazon nodded. ‘Actually I make sixty percent of my income from it. My lectureship is nice, but academia is more like a hobby with an office.’ He started up on the socks, the needles twisting and twirling through a series of moves that Tai’s eyes struggled to follow.

‘You sell socks?’ Tai asked. It didn’t surprise her that Corazon had a side-hustle – the AU-Earth’s budgetary situation was tight, and that was very visible in public sector salaries. It was just as well that Tai’s role as an officer came with government-subsidised housing, because there was no way she could afford anything minimally-pleasant on the private market.

‘No, scarves, usually,’ Corazon said. ‘They’re mostly bought by ash lizards. I got into it almost by accident, when I went to Nine Shadows And Six Rivers back in ’52. Took my needles and stuff with me, made a scarf on the ship out. It was just something to do, you know? But when we arrived I gave it to one of our liaison team, as a gift – and they loved it. Before I knew it I had a waiting-list of gender-bending alien lizards, who all wanted individual knitted scarves.’ He snorted. ‘I got to live the high life out on Nine Shadows, while the rest of the exchange group had to slum it, down on the cheap floors of the arcology.’

‘Oh of course,’ Tai said. ‘They like decoration, don’t they?’

‘They don’t go in for clothes in quite the way we do – heat retention messes up their metabolisms something chronic. But they do go in for decoration. Necklaces, wrist-sheathes, sashes. Scarves. Natural materials are particularly-prized.’ He shrugged. ‘Who would have known that knitted goods would be a key export from this planet?’

[cherrybombusa]

GROUP THREE  - THE CAROUSEL. FAILED.

PLAYERS:

THE HEARTBREAK KID - Casey Russell. THE ARTIST - Sloane Salt. THE CLASSIC - Libby Logan.

EARNED PERKS:

- PUZZLERS: Talk about minds of freakin’ steel! As the only group to solve the puzzle in ONE guess, Casey Russell, and Sloane Salt have both earned themselves a chance to go back and fix it! If a choice happens to go wrong for them in a future event, they will be allowed ONE do-over. Use it wisely! 

MEMORABLE MOMENTS:

- Casey fell on his face, and cost the group a time penalty on his run back from the Ferris Wheel. - The Gang only used one try in their puzzle, and succeeded!  - Sloane dropped the second key, and failed to disarm the Candy Girl’s bomb. The carousel was destroyed in the blast.  - As the one who dropped the key, Sloane was blamed for the destruction of the carousel, and arrested. On the bright side, she saved Libby and Casey from spending a night in jail... But this will come back to bite them all in-game.

When it was put there, he doesn’t know, but the note should be enough to make Casey’s heart skip. There, in the case of his instrument is a folded piece of paper. On its surface? A threat. “COME TO THE NEW CAROUSEL AT 7:30PM SHARP, OR YOUR SECRET IS MINE TO SPILL!” @caseyfm

When it was put there, she doesn’t know, but the note should be enough to make Sloane’s heart skip. There, hidden within her deck of tarot cards is a folded piece of paper. On its surface? A threat. “COME TO THE NEW CAROUSEL AT 7:30PM SHARP, OR YOUR SECRET IS MINE TO SPILL!” @saltofthcearth

When it was put there, she doesn’t know, but the note should be enough to make Libby’s heart skip. There, in her ride locker, is a folded piece of paper. On its surface? A threat. “COME TO THE NEW CAROUSEL AT 7:30PM SHARP, OR YOUR SECRET IS MINE TO SPILL!” @hellolibby​ 

THE NARRATOR: Reunions were supposed to be pleasant occasions, weren’t they? They were supposed to bring feelings of joy, and nostalgia; you were supposed to forget the awkward haze that had plagued your years of high school, and… pretend like the good old days were actually just that. Good. Absence did make the heart grow fonder and all that, didn’t it? 

Though, maybe it’s silly to wonder why this little reunion might not be so pleasant. The three of them - Casey, Libby, and Sloane - all walk up to the Carousel at the same time. They all meet each other’s eyes, and though nobody says it, everyone hears the same thought in their head. ‘Fuck.’

LIBBY: "So..." Libby's voice wavers dangerously - her hands shake, cast and all - but somehow she fights every urge she has within herself to run the other direction before chaos can unravel itself all around them. If the Candy Girl wanted them all here, then she doubted running away would be of much use. They were all trapped in Cherry… But this time, it wasn’t ‘small town syndrome’ keeping them back. "Probably safe to assume running into each other here isn't just a coincidence, right?"

SLOANE: There was an urge to reach out to the both of them and pull them in close that Sloane resisted, looking between Libby and Casey. So much for a lull in this Candy Girl's machinations, it seems a week was enough for her to plan something more. She swallowed thickly and then shook her head, folding her arms over her chest nervously. "Well, obviously I wouldn't be here if I didn't need to be." She motioned towards the Carousel. Talk about betraying her cause.

CASEY: Casey follows Sloane's gesture to the carousel. How did wooden horses somehow seem so menacing at night? It was thirty minutes before Mystic Cherry were due to perform and instead he was here about to do...? The sinking feeling in his gut tells him that this is going to lead to no good. "Yeah, this definitely isn't my idea of a warm up before a gig..." he mumbles, before his gaze falls on them both.

THE NARRATOR: There’s no clock to strike the time - nothing to let them know that 7:30-sharp has approached but the faint sound of Dean Hargrove’s voice in the distance is enough to let them know. They're all watching each other, but they can't help but flinch at the intrusion of the sound... And then, yet again ,when Hargrove is cut off by a voice that none of them quite recognize. They’re too far away to hear what the commotion is about, but somehow they know… Their night just took a turn for the worse.

It would have been impressive timing if it weren’t so fucking frightening, but at just that moment, their very own issue of the Cherry Bomb is dropped from the roof of the carousel, and onto it’s platform - near one of the old horses that looked a little too off-it’s-rocker. It’s clearly meant for them… It has to be. The only problem? The Gang is stuck, woefully, behind a locked fence.

There are a few ways to get to it, at least. They could always take their chances climbing the fence  to get inside of the Carousel; it doesn’t look that high.

Casey knows the guys who work here… They’re always leaving things lying around. Maybe it might be best to look around for a lanyard someone might have dropped.

 Then again, Libby has been treating the Boardwalk like a second home since she was just a kid, and she says there’s always another way in… Maybe they look for a hole in the fence?

MAKE A CHOICE: YOU MUST RETRIEVE THE CHERRY BOMB. DO YOU CLIMB THE GATE [SURVIVOR], LOOK FOR A LANYARD [PROBLEM SOLVING], OR LOOK FOR A HOLE IN THE FENCE [PERCEPTION]?

LIBBY:  "Come on, guys, Casey's right. What are the odds that someone didn't drop their key? It's the boardwalk." It's easy to tell when Libby is determined to get something done. For the first time that day, she ties her hair up in a high ponytail - she crinkles her nose as she scans the area. She probably looked a little too much like a 60’s witch from her favorite sick day show - but, she can’t help herself. Libby always felt a little smarter when she was acting like somebody else. "Sloane - you look over by the hot dog cart. Case, you should probably take the space behind the ride, and I'll... Look everywhere else. I guess.

THE NARRATOR: It’s really a wonder the boardwalk even stays open, considering how careless some of the employees can be, but after a few minutes of searching for a stray key, our little slice of the gang finds their hands on one. They unlock the gate with ease and all pile in toward the Carousel; eager to get their hands on that ominous little magazine.

The cover of the Cherry Bomb is collaged with photos of Lux, the inside? Crime scene photos. There’s no pictures of her body, of course - that would be crude, even for the Candy Girl… kind of. But images of the blood soaked into her carpet; still pictures of her bedroom, flaunting a life once lived, those are there. A shot of her suicide note, ‘I’m sorry, I love you,’ and all.

And right there, in the middle of the spread, like a centerfold? A note, written in Sharpie - just for our ragtag little slice of the gang.

CANDY GIRL: GET OUT,,, GET OUT, WHEREVER YOU’RE LOCKED!!!! NOT A FAN OF SMALL SPACES?? I’LL STICK YOU IN A BOX. SOMEONE IS MISSING, BUT I WON’T SAY WHO… FIND THE KEY, AND FIND OUT WHO.

BUT WATCH OUT, WATCH OUT! YOU’RE ON THE CLOCK! LET IT RUN OUT, AND THEY’LL STAY IN THE BOX. WILL THE TIDE COME IN? HMM, MAYBE IT WON’T. OR BETTER YET? MAYBE YOUR FRIENDS WILL FLOAT.

YOU’RE NOT LOCKED IN, BUT IT’S STILL ON YOU! FIND THE KEY, OR THIS FRIEND DIES TOO.

THE NARRATOR:  Oh...my. Now, that’s quite the predicament, isn’t it? I suppose we’re at least lucky that the Candy Girl leaves the rules simple, right? Find a key, and maybe she doesn’t kill one of your friends. Maybe.

MAKE A CHOICE: ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED AND LOCKED AWAY IN A BOX. YOU MUST FIND THE KEY TO SAVE THEM. DO YOU LOOK FOR CLUES [PROBLEM SOLVING], OR SEARCH FOR A KEY WILDLY [LUCK - HIGH RISK, HIGH REWARD]?

SLOANE:  Despite the rising heart rate that Sloane is sporting after looking through that shiny new issue of the Cherry Bomb and the revelation of this new note, she's standing tall, directing the other two. "Divide and conquer, like before. There have gotta be clues around here somewhere... she dropped this from the roof, maybe there's something else." Sloane's boots carry her around the perimeter of the Carousel as she searches for something, anything to give an indication of who is in the box and a way to find this damn key.

THE NARRATOR:  Look for clues. Good idea, Sloane! They split up, but maybe it's better that way.

Libby  stays focused on the sharpie scribbled riddle in the ‘zine while the other two search the operator’s booth up and down for something useful. Not so useful, but strange enough to take note of? A cherry red briefcase, shoved into one of the dusty, storage lockers. Not only that… but maybe there’s actually more to the note than they thought.

MAKE A CHOICE: YOU MUST FIGURE OUT THE PUZZLE. ADMIN EM IS HERE TO HELP, BUT MAYBE TRY THE WELCOME DESK TO START.

SLOANE: With shaky hands, Sloane reaches for the briefcase, after staring at the damn riddle for what felt like so long the words had ceased to make sense. She input their first attempt at cracking the code: 3142.

MAKE A CHOICE: SUCCESS!

THE NARRATOR: With the numbers all in the correct order, the briefcase pops open rather easily. They find a key, but along with it, our little gang sees a mess of wires, something that looks like a keyhole, a clock ticking down…. And a note.

CANDY GIRL:  ANOTHER SURPRISE  - AND THIS WILL BE FUN - I GOTTA GO, I GOTTA RUN! BUT BEFORE I DO, I PLANTED A BOMB! AND IT WILL BLOW UP WHEN THE TIMER SAYS ONE!  SO, FIND A NEW KEY, TRY OUT THE LOCK! SEE IF YOU CAN DISARM IT -  BEAT THE CLOCK! BUT IF YOU DON’T - AND YOU DON’T GO BOOM -  THEN ENJOY THE INTERROGATION ROOM!

WHERE TO FIND THE KEY? THAT’S A DIFFERENT STORY. I’M TALL, AND I’M ROUND, AND I’M SLOW, AND I’M BORING! I’M FAR AWAY, SO YOU’LL HAVE TO SPRINT, BUT IF YOU’RE RIGHT, YOU WON’T TAKE THE HIT. YOUR SECOND OPTION? MERRY GO ROUND! CLIMB ALL THE WAY UP! OR SOMEONE WILL DROWN. THE KEY COULD BE THERE, THE KEY COULD BE NOT… OH, WELL, FIND OUT! OR MAYBE YOU’LL ROT.

THE NARRATOR: Well, the threat is clear. They must solve the riddle, get the second key, and disarm the bomb before the timer runs out… if they don’t, the whole thing might be coming down. And they might just go down with it.

CASEY:  A bomb. They were now dealing with a bomb. The words barely have a chance to register in his mind before they're all scrambling to work out what the words on the paper mean and how to save their friend. With his heart still in his mouth, it barely feels like it has a moment to settle before he's spluttering out, "it has to be the ferris wheel, right?" Looking at both of his friends for their sign of agreement.

MAKE A CHOICE: YOU HAVE DECIDED TO GO TO THE FERRIS WHEEL. NOW YOU MUST DECIDE WHO SPRINTS THERE BEFORE THE TIMER RUNS OUT. [STRENGTH, FIGHTER, BRAVERY.]

CASEY: With the agreement of his friends - he's bolting off. Barely a thought running through his head other than the knowledge that he has to get to the ferris wheel before the timer ticks down to zero. Their friendship circle has suffered enough with Lux's death without adding in a casualty at the hands of Candy Girl. Scrambled together with the thought that he's lost enough family over the years, too. So, it's sheer brute force that gets him through the sprint, running like his own life depends on it because... well... it kinda does. With the ferris wheel in sight, he hopes he will make it in time.

THE NARRATOR: Heart racing, chest aching; adrenaline pulsing through his veins, but somehow  he finds the key hanging from the Ferris’ Wheel’s gate like a prize less than two minutes later. With that in his hands, he just has to sprint all the way back to the carousel to save his friends. 

It should be just as easy - it has to be - but maybe the pressure of getting back in time is getting to his head, because on the way back… Casey stumbles. It’s not it’s the wipeout of the century, but it certainly shaves some time off of that fucking timer in the briefcase. Not to mention some skin off of his face -- and is that blood dripping down his collar? Fuck. 

MAKE A CHOICE:  MODERATE SUCCESS. THE GANG HAS SUFFERED A TIME PENALTY DUE TO CASEY’S STUMBLE.

THE NARRATOR: They  have the key, and now they just have to disarm that fucking bomb. It seems simple enough… But it would probably be better if whoever did it was calm. Or good at problem solving. Or just… Really, really, really good at surviving bleak situations. Any takers?

MAKE A CHOICE: SOMEONE HAS TO DISARM THE BOMB [CALM, PROBLEM-SOLVING, SURVIVOR.]

SLOANE: Sloane has dealt with many a crisis, but none so bad as this one, when lives are on the line and there's a god damn bomb in a briefcase like they're in a cheesy 80s action flick. Taking a deep breath, she takes the key from Casey, worried eyes having to fight to not focus in on his injury. They don't have time. They have to do this. "I can do it." She assures them both, steadying her hands and clenching her jaw as she lifts the key towards the keyhole steadily. "Fuck it." She mutters as she tries the one they've retrieved.

THE NARRATOR:  Holy shit. Holy shit.

THE NARRATOR: I can believe this one is really happening.

THE NARRATOR: The three of them held their breath - Casey and Libby watched while Sloane went for the lock with only 30 seconds left on the timer… only to drop it.

It was the fumble of the century - the sound of the key falling into the hidden mechanisms of the carousel like a taunt - and as the clock counted down, they knew they only had one choice… 

The three of them took off running as hard as they could - their lives depended on it, after all - and though it was a mighty effort, they didn’t make it far enough not to be blown off of their feet. They all land in a pile together; beaten, broken… And absolutely fucked when only minutes later, the Boardwalk Police come running.

They expect for handcuffs to be thrown onto the three of them, but as Dean Hargrove comes running up behind them, he instructs them only to arrest Sloane.

He had known Casey and Libby since they were both kids, after all. They were his son’s best friends. How was he supposed to believe that they had something to do with this over the Salt girl? Libby and Casey try to protest, but it’s no use. Sloane is going with them to the police station, and… that’s that.

MAKE A CHOICE: YOU HAVE FAILED YOUR EVENT, BUT AT LEAST YOU FOUND THE FIRST KEY. YOUR FRIEND HAS A CHANCE.

[alagalaska]

It’s Only Hair, Right?

Summary: A Billy Hargrove imagine based on my experience of having Alopecia.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem! Reader (first person narrative)

A/N: I was having a bad day and this is something that just came out. I understand this may not be for everyone but I feel Alopecia (hair loss) is something that a lot of people have but never talk about, so I still wanted to post this even if no one reads it. If you do read it, please let me know what you think! P.S. there's a little gift from me to you at the end ;)

Warnings: Hair loss and the issues that come with it. There will be swearing, talk of negative self-image, brief non-graphic mention of needles (for the purpose of steroid injections which are given to try and stimulate hair regrowth), angst, fluff and Billy being very impulsive. 

Disclaimer: I acknowledge that not everyone will experience or be affected by Alopecia in the same ways, so please note that this is purely based on my own experience of having it. Please do not steal or copy my work in part or in whole.

Word count: 2,137

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

“Stupid, fucking…” I grumbled frustratedly, around a mouthful of bobby pins, adjusting the small floral scarf I’d put in my hair to try and cover the back of my head.

I had been standing in front of the bathroom mirror for about fifteen minutes, attempting to put my hair up for work.

Billy came into the room, smiling that lopsided grin of his; swaggered up behind me and placed his hands on my hips. He dipped his head to kiss the side of my neck, blonde curls tickling my shoulder. He hummed against my skin as I continued jamming pins into my hair.

His eyes caught mine in the mirror, seemed to gauge my mood, then flicked up to the scarf in my hair. 

“This is nice,” he said, tugging gently at the bow I’d tied clumsily at the front of the scarf. 

“Don’t pull it, you’ll mess it up,” I snapped, jerking away from him. It came out a lot harsher than I’d meant it to. 

He dropped his hand, frowning. 

I sighed, placing the unused bobby pins down on the side of the sink, and turned to him. 

“Sorry, I just can’t get it to sit right. It’s pissing me off,” I said, gesturing at the back of my head frustratedly. 

He smirked at that.

“Never would have guessed,” he teased. His smile dropped again when he saw the obvious lack of amusement on my face. 

I untied the scarf and started yanking it from my hair; grasping at the pins I had so carefully placed, removing them one by one. I scattered them carelessly onto the rim of the sink with the others. One slid into the basin, stopping at the edge of the plughole where it balanced precariously.

Billy’s hands came up to rest over mine, stilling them. He turned me to him. 

“Hey,” he said. My eyes had fallen to the tiled floor, so he gently placed one hand under my chin, tilting my face until I was looking at him again. “You look beautiful.” 

I considered his words for a moment.

“Well, I don’t feel it,” I said, pulling away from him.

Billy’s jaw tensed. He didn’t say anything.

“Don’t know why they insist on hair up anyway,” I grumbled, turning back to face the mirror again. 

I turned my head to the side, taking in the state of my hair without the scarf covering it. 

A large section behind my left ear was almost completely bald, save for a few strands here and there. My fingers poked at the skin, which felt smooth and waxy to the touch.

There was a large patch behind my right ear too, which extended round to the back of my head and one final area at the back, towards the middle, which was clearly visible with my hair up. 

Unfortunately, with my work having a ‘hair up’ policy for female staff, it meant I couldn’t just hide it under the rest of my hair or throw on my favourite beanie hat, like I usually would when I wasn’t working. 

It was getting harder and harder to disguise it, the more my hair fell out. The patches were gradually getting bigger and, according to my dermatologist, could get a whole lot worse before they started getting better. 

I picked up the hand-held shaving mirror that was sat at the back of the sink and held it out behind me, angling it so that I could see the back of my head reflected in the larger mirror in front of me. 

Billy leaned up against the wall, watching me with a crease in his brow. Chewed on the inside of his cheek as I inspected the patches of scalp. 

“Any regrowth?” he eventually asked.

I sighed.

“No.” I tried not to sound too disappointed. It was probably too soon to tell anyway.

My last visit to the dermatologist had been a few days prior, for my final round of steroid injections. If it didn’t work this time, that was it; I’d just have to wait for the hair to grow back on it’s own, which could take anything up to two years. If it was even going to grow back at all, that is.

Billy had gone with me, of course. Had sat quietly in the corner, trying to maintain his supportive role as best he could, as he’d watched the discomfort on my face; powerless to help me. Had held me afterwards as I’d cried into the shoulder of his leather jacket.

My eyes were starting to sting now as I stared at the ugly patches of visible flesh. 

I generally tried not to brood about it too often, but sometimes it was hard not to be outwardly fed up; especially after enduring the unpleasant ordeal that was having numerous injections straight to the scalp, only for them to not work. 

Billy pushed away from the wall and stood behind me again. He prised the mirror from my hand.

“Come on, you better finish getting ready for work,” he said. He paused, then added, “Unless you wanna call in sick? We can order some takeout, watch a movie?” 

The offer was tempting, but we really needed the money for rent; and although my pay was crap, the tips were definitely worth it. 

“No, I should go,” I said regretfully. “Thanks though.” I glanced over my shoulder at him. Threw him a small smile, feeling bad for having been moody. 

“I liked the scarf,” he said, gesturing to where I’d abandoned it. He smiled encouragingly, holding the mirror up at the back of my head. “I’ll hold this so you can see what you’re doing.” 

It was easier to do this time, with Billy’s help. Only took me a couple more minutes to get the scarf positioned right and pinned in so that it was secure. 

I smoothed my palm over the scarf, checking it one last time in the mirror. I turned to Billy, chewing my lip. 

“What happens when it gets too bad to cover up?” I asked.

“I dunno, shave it off?” he answered, shrugging. He put his hands on my hips, pulled me in closer. Slid his hands into the back pockets of my work trousers. “You don’t need hair to be beautiful.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead then one to my lips; lingered there as he said, “Could shave the whole lot off and you’d still look smoking hot.” 

I laughed, despite myself.  

“Yeah, that’s easy for you to say,” I retorted. I took hold of one of his perfect curls, gently teasing it out straight between my fingers and let it go. Watched it bounce. 

“I’m serious,” he said, leaning back to look at me from arms’ length, with a frown. “It’s only hair, right?” He slowly cracked a smile, trying to encourage me to join in. When I didn’t, he quirked an eyebrow at me, “Right?” he prompted again.

I let out an exasperated sigh, rolled my eyes, but indulged him by replying anyway.

“Right.”

That had inadvertently become our motto regarding my hair. When it had originally started falling out, people would say that to me all the time, ‘It's only hair.’ As if that would make me feel better. 

It used to really annoy me, but then Billy had started saying it as a joke, and it had kind of stuck. He insisted that if he said it enough times, I actually might start to believe it. Unfortunately, that theory still had yet to be proved.

“Ok, I gotta go or I’m gonna be late,” I said. I wandered through to the bedroom, Billy following behind me, and gathered up my purse and keys. “Bye,” I said, then gave him a kiss on the lips. 

He watched me thoughtfully as I left. 

------ 

When I got home from work, Billy was nowhere to be seen. Granted, it was late, but he normally never went to bed until I’d come back from my shift.

“Babe?” The living room was empty, the TV murmuring away to itself. I wandered over to it, turning it off. 

That’s when I heard a faint buzzing sound. Followed it through the flat until I was standing outside of the bathroom door. I pushed my ear to the wood. 

“Billy?” I asked, knocking on the door. 

The buzzing cut off abruptly, followed by a short silence and then what sounded like something being knocked over. I heard Billy curse sharply, under his breath.

“Babe? What are you doing in there?” I went to open the door.

“Er, hang on a sec,” he said, then hurriedly added, “don’t come in.” I could hear him scrabbling to pick up whatever he’d dropped. 

The buzzing started up again. I figured he must be trimming his pubes. No big deal. I’d seen him do that before, a bunch of times, so I didn’t get what all the fuss was about. 

I tried the handle. It wasn’t locked.

“Why can’t I-?” 

I froze in the doorway, the words dying in my throat.

Billy was stood, shirtless, in front of the bathroom mirror; an electric razor in his hand. 

“Y/N,” he said, exasperated, “I told you not to come in. I’m not done yet, it was meant to be a surprise.”

Well, it certainly was just that. 

“Oh my God, Billy,” I breathed, walking into the room.

My eyes fell to the basin at his hips, full of familiar dark blonde curls, lying limply against the white porcelain.  

The remaining hair on his head was shaved short, save for a small section at the back, near his neck, which he’d obviously missed and the left side of his head, which he was in the process of shaving before I interrupted him. 

I looked him over. Somehow, he still managed to take my breath away, even with a poorly shaved head. 

He put the razor down on the edge of the sink. Rubbed his hand over the stubble on his head, surveying his handy work in the mirror.

“What d’you think?” He flashed me that smile of his, in the reflection. Faltered slightly when he saw the way my eyes were welling up. “You hate it?” he asked, sounding unsure; disappointed, even. He turned to me.

“No, of course I don’t hate it,” I said, sniffling. Attempted a smile.

“Then what’s wrong?” he asked. He put his hands on my upper arms, stroking them soothingly.

“It’s just... I feel like this is because of what I said earlier…” I sighed, knowing full well that he’d taken what I said to heart and that’s not what I had intended.

“Well, yeah, it is,” he said, shrugging. He looked like he was going to say something else but I cut in.

“I just don’t want you to regret the decision.”

He laughed. 

“Bit late for that now,” he said jokingly. But I didn’t find it funny. 

“This is a huge deal, Billy,” I continued, as if I hadn’t heard him. “You love your hair.”

He barely seemed to think about his response.

“Yeah, but I love you more,” he said easily. 

I didn’t know what to say. My eyes were welling up again.

“I figured that if you did decide to shave your head, it might be easier if I shaved mine too,” he explained, still gently rubbing my arms. “And besides, no one’s even gonna notice your hair now, with all this going on,” he said, gesturing to his lack of hair. 

I sputtered a laugh. That was true, it was a state. 

“God Billy, I wish you’d just waited until I got home to start this,” I laughed again, wiping at my face with the sleeve of my work shirt. 

“At least it got you laughing,” he said with a smile.

“Yeah, and now I’ll laugh every time I see you,” I joked, picking up the razor. “Let me try and fix this.”

I started carefully shaving the hair at the back of his head then continued the section at the side which he hadn’t finished. 

When I was done, I stared into the sink, filled with his beautiful hair. 

Billy noticed and turned to me.

“Hey, it’s only hair, right?” he said, placing a kiss on the end of my nose.

I hummed a laugh. Thought about it for a moment.

“Right,” I replied. 

As Billy started cleaning up the remains of his mullet, I took off my head scarf, pulling it free of the pins. I folded the fabric in my hands and looked up at myself in the mirror. Suddenly, what I saw didn’t seem so bad. 

Billy was watching me from behind. 

I smiled back at my gorgeous boyfriend, and for the first time ever, I really did feel like maybe it was only hair.

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

For those of you that made it this far, here’s some Billy with his head shaved ;)

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