#since it was previously abandoned we had to do a lot of cleaning and painting

[berryblu-soda]

Ok last one bc im procastinatkng big time!!! Look at the littol guys I got to meet :D

Rolly pollies my beloved!!! Also a very lanky kitten :3

[moon-lixie]

Help - Seo Changbin

“But what if he tries to kiss me? You know I don't know how to kiss.” And just how he helped you calm your nerves and pick the clothes you would wear, Changbin helped you with this one last detail.

genre: fluff, 80s AU

word count: 2.647k

The music turned slightly louder as a result of Changbin´s nervous fingers toying with the stereo of your room, blasting Hungry Heart by Bruce Springsteen in a volume where you could appreciate every single word clearly. You didn't pay particular attention to that detail as you kept moving your feet back and forth in the air.

Laying down on your bed, your elbows supported the weight of your head that leaned comfortably against your palm. Under your concentrated gaze was a magazine acquired barely minutes ago as you walked back from school with your friend.

A deep sigh left your friend's lips, almost disrupting the calmness with the blatant distress that it carried. And for the first time in the last fifteen minutes your gaze fluttered over his figure long enough for him to snap his head in your direction.

Once his gaze started softening and his brows abandoned the previously furrowed state they had met your glance with, you moved your orbs back to the pages that lazily turned due to your slightly bored fingers.

Many Friday afternoons had been spent like that, with your friend hanging around your house or vice versa. It wasn´t often that you got bored or impatient for the night to arrive soon —because that meant parting ways with Changbin and that idea always sounded dreadful— but today was one of those days.

Today, when the night arrived, you would be going on a date —your very first one that is— and it stirred inside you an excitement that couldn´t be dampened by nothing in this world. Or so you thought before your friend released another awfully loud sigh.

“Could you quit whatever it is that you're doing? You're ruining the mood,” escaped from your lips with a fake annoyance that prevented him from tensing up any further.

He mumbled a quick and awfully faint apology but you still managed to make it out in between the familiar melody of Died in your arms that began playing as the voice from the man working on the radio station currently playing faded.

It was your turn to sigh as he started pacing restlessly around the carpeted floor of your room. Whatever was the thing that could possibly bother him that much escaped your seemingly limited understanding.

For a split second you considered asking him what was bothering him so greatly, but knowing him you were certain that if it distressed him enough for him not to even bother hiding his restlessness, it wasn't particularly something he would be comfortable to talk about freely.

He seemed to limit himself to look at the floor solely until his eyes travelled to one of the walls without notice. It wasn't the one covered with the posters of your favourite bands —that of course happened to be his favourite ones as well— nor the one where your window stared at the backyard he had sneaked into in the middle of the night more times that you could count with a single hand.

It had been the one where you had tried to do a collage of photos; you had ultimately given up one particularly hot day of the last summer that only added to the uncomfortable sticky feeling of glue drying on your palms and the lack of photos that had prompted you to carry a camera around the last months.

A small smile morphed Changbin´s expression into a less sour one, eliciting a smile of your own. The corners of his eyes began crinkling as he took notice of the fact that most pictures were of him or at least included his presence; for a second you thought you could blush in embarrassment, quickly discarting the thought upon realizing that if someone was aware of your lack of close friends it was Changbin.

Standing up you left the magazine open on one particularly unimportant page and walked to stand beside the person you loved to tease about his height.

Watching as his hand reached out forward, you took in how he ever so gently pressed the tips of his fingers on the white edges of the polaroid that perfectly encapsulated one morning on the nearby park that had risen upon you two not long ago.

A flash of sadness unmistakably passed through his pupils, worry setting itself deep within your chest.

“Hey, is everything okay?” you asked in a hushed tone as if raising your voice in the slightest would result in scaring him away.

Without words he tried to reassure you that everything was fine, softly shaking his head and flashing your way the smallest of smiles. If only you hadn't known him since you were both kids, then maybe you would believe he was really okay.

The exact moment you were about to give up on letting him drown in his own pitifulness and ask him what was going on, he turned around and quickly made his way to plop down on your bed.

Your right eyebrow quirked in amusement as you watched him reach out for the one stuffed animal he had given you for your birthday four springs ago, pressing it tightly against his chest. For a moment you caught yourself feeling slightly annoyed at him not hugging you, if he wanted to hug something so desperately you would've liked to be his first option.

After letting a small huff escape from in between your lips, you walked towards him only to playfully snatch the brown fluffiness away from his arms and ultimately lay down beside him after saying, “you were going to asphyxiate it if you kept going like that.”

“It was either him or you,” he said, this time mirroring your playfulness and seemingly letting his worries aside.

“First of all, who said that it was a he?” you said while shooting a disapproving glare to your friend, “and second, if I needed to sacrifice myself to save this poor soul then I would.”

“Don't say I didn't warn you.” Before you were able to question his words he lunged at you, his fingers tickling just the spots that had you trying to stifle your laugh with all your might.

Seconds later he hugged you close to his chest, laughs filling the whole room and erasing any trace of worry from his face. While you just begged him to let you go as a poor attempt of expressing that you wanted him to do the exact opposite.

His loud laugh died down as he let you go and faced the ceiling once again, only sporadically leaving his mouth as a breathy giggle that matched perfectly the ones bubbling up from your throat.

And then, just as silence began to install itself on your bed right between the both of you, he said something that surprised you, “isn't it time for you to get ready for that date? I mean, that's the only reason you brought me here, right?” His tone was teasing and playful, for a second it pulled you away from the daze that the thought of almost forgetting about your date brought.

Right then you had no idea but as you agreed you were also signing for an extremely picky Changbin who kept shaking his head in disapproval over and over again as you chose different clothing pieces from your closet, either because he had turned into a full fashionista on the last hours or just because he wanted to annoy you.

“I swear to god Seo Changbin, if you don't say that this is the one when I come out we´re going to have some trouble.” The comment seemed to amuse him seeing that he had snorted right away.

Taking one last look at the mirror above your sink, you opened the bathroom door and stepped right where he could see you perfectly. “So, how do I look?”

He could´ve laughed at the weird poses you were striking while trying to add to the simple set of denim shorts and the white graphic tee tucked inside them if only he didn't seem so out of breath.

The top you wore was one that you had bought with him one Saturday when you had the great idea of buying some matching outfits and he had refused until you finally convinced him to buy a simple t-shirt, just that.

“God, does it look that bad?” you began saying with a frown painting your features with worry, “I mean, it is a bit casual but you said that it would be better not to overdo it-”

“No, no,” he quickly interrupted what both of you knew would be a string of incoherent and unstoppable talking that erupted as a habit that came from pure nervousness, “you look great, really. This is it.”

One small smile brightened your face but did nothing to ease the nerves that increased as the excitement washed away, because your date was no longer a what if that could take place in the future but a fact that would occur without a doubt.

Your trembling hands reached towards your bed where most of your clothes had been left discarded, along with the magazine that just now you remember existed —without a doubt it would be crinkled.

Starting to pick up some stuff with the intention of cleaning up, Changbin soon joined you and bumped the side of his hips against yours before walking with obvious content towards your closet. It meant a lot to you that, just like always, he was trying to help you ease your nerves without being awfully obvious about it.

Quickly, you rushed towards where he was and pushed him softly to the side before laughing and putting some folded pieces of clothing inside its respectful cabinets. He didn't just brush it off and instead paid you back with the same treatment, beginning like that another fit of laughter that barely allowed you to be quick about sorting out the pile of clothing.

When you both finished the sky had turned into a deep and dark purple that threatened to end your precious time with your friend; you were beginning to judge yourself for being so impatient earlier when all you wanted now was for hours to stretch endlessly if it meant staying in his comforting presence.

His hand held yours and brought you out of your daze; your heart shouldn’t have been beating as hard because it was just Changbin. That’s right, just Changbin, your sweet and incredibly attentive friend, just that…

A comforting smile met your sight after he squeezed your hand gently to catch your attention. It was just friendly Changbin, and they were just nerves for your date, not butterflies.

Without a word he brought you to sit on the floor right in front of him, so you could be facing straight as his slightly furrowed brows and beautifully brown eyes.

“What’s bothering you?” he asked, squeezing your hand one more time in the process. “Tell me so that I can help.”

You wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation, a couple of hours before anyone would’ve thought those words would end up slipping from your lips, not his.

“I don't know,” you murmured quite uncertain of what to say next, so you just said exactly that, “I have no idea what to do.”

“Ask me then, I’ll help you.”

The tone of his voice, so confident and friendly, made you want to laugh out loud. “This isn’t like studying, silly.”

“We can pretend it is. Let’s say it’s a math problem we need to solve, you know I got your back.”

That you did know, he always had your back just like you had his. It had been an unspoken promise of two toddlers that still managed to stay perfectly immaculate.

You began speaking, asking silly questions and eventually moving onto the real ones, the things that worried you and made your stomach churn until you felt nauseous.

“And what if he tries to kiss me? You know I don't know how to kiss.” This particular question left your lips as a mere whisper; it had caused Changbin’s grip on your hand to tighten as he hadn’t let go of your hand since you both had sat down.

“W-Well.” His voice was shaky, it made you wonder if perhaps that was a question too difficult to answer or if you shouldn’t have mentioned it. Immediately your gaze traveled to the ground as you tried to hide your embarrassed expression.

“I guess I can help with that too.” And just how he helped you calm your nerves and pick the clothes you would wear, he helped you with that one last detail.

The fingers of his free hand brushed on your chin as he lifted your face for you to stare at him. He leaned ever so slowly, a small nervous smile coating his rosy lips whose colour matched the blush bringing liveliness to his face.

Time seemed to move terribly slow as his lids fluttered shut, seconds later it was your turn to close your eyes. Before you knew his lips were brushing over yours, his breathing fanning over your cheek in a tickling fashion that made you feel warm inside rather than making you want to laugh.

When he finally pressed his lips fully on yours it felt like you were melting, a tingling sensation travelled through your whole body and you squeezed his hand as tightly as possible.

It felt like years before he moved away from you, though you were aware that it must have been barely a couple of seconds. Just as you were pulling away, eyes still closed, his hand cupping your cheek, he spoke softly, “It would be something like that.”

A shiver ran down your spine when his breath fanned over your lips and before you even knew your lips were pressed against his once again. This time it wasn’t as awkward or stiff; in fact, he let go of your hand and moved his position for him to be kneeling. Getting closer to you seemed like his mission as his other hand gently pressed against your cheek that had begun feeling jealous of the warmth the other was receiving from his touch.

His lips moved against yours slowly and careful not to scare you away, for a second you could swear you tasted a tinge of the vanilla ice cream he had bought on the way home at the tip of your tongue.

This time as he pulled away you weren’t left with confusing interrogations that messed up with your mind but with a hammering heart that seemed to overpower the noise coming from the stereo.

“Or something like that,” Changbin said, chuckling to himself with satisfaction before sitting back where he had been like he had never once moved. But you could see it on the faint smile covering his lips that he was enjoying himself more than his timid hands were trying to show as they were shoved under the thighs of his crossed legs.

“I don’t want to go anywhere now,” you said in between breaths; he laughed right away with a warmness that reached your cheeks as well as your heart.

“I don’t want you to go either.”

The smile on his lips painted itself on your face as well; seeming to get out of a strange daze the music from the radio reached your ears with a newfound intensity that made you scared about possibly disturbing someone. That thought was left aside when you recognised the song playing, it was Friends will be Friends by Queen.

There were butterflies dancing freely on your stomach and a sense of comfort that made your heart sing. Laughing out loud you leaned towards Changbin once again; Freddie Mercury had no idea what he was talking about, because sometimes friends were much more than just that.

[tyunniverse]

TXT x DISNEY Halloween Shorts 🎃 (4/5)

pairing: ot5 x reader

genre: fluff, crack, college au

warnings: light swearing

synopsis: there's a halloween event at your uni and a few students are in the mood for misfit.

yeonjun | soobin | beomgyu | taehyun | hueningkai

TAEHYUN | Sleeping Beauty (2.5k)

The sky had turned dark, not a single star in sight, covered by ominous looking clouds that helped set the atmosphere for tonight's grandeur. Sunset came about an hour ago. Everyone was scattered around enjoying the festivities, trying out different booths and events that were held by the different departments. But Taehyun wanted none of that.

The bags under his eyes and the ever present frown on his face made it obvious enough. He'd been working his ass off for days for their department's event— delegating tasks, going back and forth for supplies, decorating their venue, advertising, assisting a few students with their script— Taehyun could go on and on. He looks up at the venue from where he sat, frowning as he reads the sign he made and put up at the entrance: FRIGHT MANSION. He wasn't too fond of the name but everyone else thought otherwise.

The walls of the building had aged with time, sporting numerous cracks and holes. Amateur graffiti lined the entrance up until the doors that were previously barred shut. Taehyun figured there was probably more at the back but didn't care much to actually check. Moss and overgrown weed poked out of the ground, adding to the dilapidated building's charm. The place had a reputation of being haunted but Taehyun never believed in that, but it did turn out to be quite the efficient marketing scheme, drawing in daring students like moths to a flame. He'd wondered whose brilliant idea it was to get permission to use the old Nursing Department building. Oh, right. It was his.

The old wooden bench creaks as Taehyun lies down, propping his head up his backpack that he'd turn into a makeshift pillow. The leaves above his head sway with the breeze. The rustling of the trees made the chattering and screams from the inside almost inaudible. Almost.

Taehyun made full use of the bench that's situated farthest from the venue, taking the time to get some well-deserved shuteye before someone comes and ruins his beauty sleep over something stupid like someone's costume catching fire. The thought rings in his mind, the likelihood of that scenario was far too plausible for his liking. His eyes flutter shut, shuffling from side to side to find a better sleeping position before settling on the one he first had earlier.

A strong breeze sneaks up on Taehyun, making him wrap his arms around himself as he shivered. He recalls fumbling to wear anything he got his hands on before rushing back to school. A little thought would've been nice while putting on his outfit, by then he would've settled on a few layers of clothing rather than a simple loose sweater. Another blow of a breeze makes him frown.

No matter. He's slept under worse conditions.

"Sure is cold tonight, huh." You say, adjusting the box of glitter containers in your hands as you rush to catch up with your friend, Yugyeom, who was carrying less than you were. You curse the difference in length between your legs and his— Yugyeom's being longer than yours, allowing him to take larger steps. It didn't help that he was a fast walker too.

"Yup, sure is." He says, sparing you a glance. "Which is why we should hurry this up. I don't want to get scolded twice for being late with the delivery because of your tiny legs." And with a snort, he speeds up. You roll your eyes.

The crunching sound of dead leaves beneath your feet alerts the two of you that you're nearing the old Nursing Department building. A cool breeze rolls in, somehow cooler now that you were in an area with lots of trees. You've been here before, once, with Yugyeom. It was for a stupid college party dare he'd made with his friends, and he forced you to come with.

The two of you pass the wide opening, the path towards the building showing up in your peripheral vision. From where you were, you could see the brught graffiti plastered around the walls. A quick scan and you spot the one Yugyeom had made for the dare— a simple sign saying: GYEOM WAS HERE, huge enough for his friends to spot from afar the next day to see if he really did it.

You chuckle, remembering how dumb he looked when he accidentally sprayed some paint over his shirt. "Hey, Yugyeom, remember when—" A stronger breeze blows by before you could finish, whipping your hair in front of your eyes. This wouldn't have been a problem if your hands were free to remove the obstacle from your face.

"Shit." You curse under your breath when you stumble against something hard. You feel a little light-headed as your feet move to regain your balance, unfortunately the attempt doesn't do much for you as the contents of the box spills, the containers of glitter rolling away from you faster than you could catch up to Yugyeom. Speaking of your friend.

"Yugyeom, wait!" You let the empty box fall, your hands rushing up to brush the hair out of your face as you whipped around. The familiar clown outfit you'd been following since the beginning of the night was long gone. You almost felt a little betrayed if you hadn't remembered how he got chewed out the last time he was late because of you. "You're not even gonna help me pick these up?!" You yell, hands slowly rubbing against each other to combat the cold wind. As you expected, you're greeted with silence. Well, almost silence. You jump as you hear a blood-curdling scream coming from inside the building, your balled fists immediately shooting up in self defense. Not like it mattered. Punching a ghost in the face didn't seem possible in the first place.

The rustling trees greet you as you slowly flutter your eyes open, taking the time to adjust to the darkness before you can start to make out the form of the building, and on the second floor, light. You breathe a sigh of relief, a smile forming on your face as you remembered that there was a Haunted house event going on right here and now. Definitely made the place seem a lot less creepy, you thought.

A few sparkling dusts in the air catches your attention and you're immediately brought back to reality— the harsh reality of you getting yelled at by a fuming Jinyoung when he finds out that half of the glitter he had you buy was now spread all over the mossy landscape of an abandoned building rather than the cute little treat shop your class had worked hard to build. Yeah, good luck to you.

You feel the grass prick against your knees as you bent down to pick up the containers that still had most of their glitter on, taking two trips from where they spilled to the box that you'd left behind at the opening. There was no way you'd start carrying that thing around while you cleaned up. If any of the glitter spills again, you wouldn't know what to do. Well, you would, but it would be too much of a hassle to clean up after yourself all over again.

Lastly, you settle for the piles of glitter scattered around the area. Some were spread around in bundles, some were tedious to scoop up since they were scattered too far apart, and some were sticking to the moss and mud, to which you've decided to leave alone. You've never had a good relationship with moss and you tried your best to keep your hands and feet away from it as much as possible. Just the thought of feeling the nasty thing with your own hands had your skin crawl. So that's that, no touching glitter covered moss for tonight.

You continue your endeavors, following the sparkling trail until it led you to one if the benches. Specifically, the person lying down on the said bench. Even more specific, that person's face— his face that's covered with a pile glitter.

Another breeze comes swooping in and hold your hands close together. Your eyes widen when the pile of glitter that was resting comfortably on his cheek was now spread throughout his face. At this point, trying to get the glitter back wasn't even an option. You frown, crouching down to take a closer look at your poor accidental victim.

His hair was sticking out on different angles, his lips dry from the cold, his outfit loose and thin, completely inappropriate for the weather and arguably the spirit of Halloween. You couldn't help but compare your matching clown costume with Yugyeom to this guy's sorry excuse of a Halloween getup. But upon closer inspection, you recognize who this was.

You didn't know his name, just that he was the one in charge of the Haunted house event going on behind you. You'd run into him a couple of times while purchasing supplies downtown. He looked even more tired after each encounter. Looking at his peaceful resting face and how underdressed he was, you figured he must've reached his limit. He was tired, understandably so, and you just spilled glitter over his face. He wasn't going to be happy when he wakes up and gets some of this stuff in his eyes.

Another gust of wind blows past you and an idea sparks in your head. "Just gotta be careful."

There's a tingling sensation on Taehyun's face and it's certainly not welcome. For one, it broke his beauty nap. And two, there is no number two— irritation taking over his mind as he finds himself shifting his full focus on number one. At first, he decides to ignore it, trying to go back to sleep despite the uncomfortable feeling on his face. But then he notices something strange.

He tries his best to stay still, refusing to move and open his eyes. He realizes that the tingling sensation was quite similar to the breeze that kept passing by, except that it's smaller and somehow warm? He couldn't really explain. He just knows that it's uncomfortable and roaming all over his face. And that's when it hits him.

This place was rumored to be haunted.

Goosebumps spread all over his body. The sensation almost felt like there's someone breathing on his face. No, not breathing. Something stronger. The thought alone was enough for Taehyun's eyes to shoot open, quickly prompting him to get up until halfway, his lips brush against something soft and warm.

"HOLY SHIT." was the first thing he heard after being pushed back down on the bench.

His body stiffens, completely stunned. And he wasn't the only one. In front of him was a complete stranger in an unflattering clown suit, staring back at him with equal shock and terror as their hands cupped their mouth. Taehyun isn't quite sure, but he swore he saw a pink blush spread across your cheeks.

He eyes how your hands are still covering half of your face, slightly shaking. A breeze passes by, seemingly reminding you two that it was the main villain for tonight. Taehyun shivers in the cold and is then briefly reminded of the sensation earlier, a warm blowing. "You," He looks up at you, a concerned look on his face. "Why are you here? What were you doing to me earlier?"

"GLITTER." You scramble to your knees, trying to gather any left over glitter from before to show as proof. Managing to get a few, you quickly hold it up to his face. "I— well, you see. Glitter. Yes, glitter." You wanted to slap yourself for failing to be coherent during the time you needed it most. "I accidentally spilled glitter all over the place and some happened to land on your face so, yeah, I don't really know why I even did it in the first place but yeah.. I started blowing on your face to get the glitter off and— oh!" You grin once you realized that his face was now glitter free, well, except for his lips. "Looks like it worked out fine anyway."

Taehyun couldn't help but look at you as if you were crazy. Here you were dressed up as a clown and reacting to your own explanation. He sighs, the bench creaking when he moves to sit up properly. "So, you were behind that weird sensation on my face earlier?"

"Weird sensation?" Your brows raise. "Oh, the blowing? Pretty much, yeah."

"And the soft feeling.." Taehyun stops himself after piecing things together. His hand shoots up to his lips on instinct, his cheeks flushed as he watched you slowly stand up. "Did we?"

"Yeah."

"When I—"

"When you tried getting up."

The leaves rustle and one falls off its branch and lands straight on Taehyun's head. He brushes it off. "Sorry for that."

"No, no! I should be the one saying sorry. I accidentally spilled glitter all over you and even ruined your sleep. Your reaction was totally normal and it just happened coincidentally."

Taehyun could only nod. He had to admit, his mind wasn't 100% present at the moment but he could at least process what had just happened. He looks down, noticing the containers of glitter by your side. "Do you still need help?"

"With that?"

"Gathering the glitter."

"Oh, no. I'm actually done."

"Well, then what d—"

"Taehyun!"

Both of your attention shifts towards one of the windows on the second floor. There, a group of students were frantically waiving at Taehyun. He could sense it. The panic in their movements, how some of the staff were running around aimlessly in the hallway— he'd predicted it all earlier. He just thought nobody was careless enough to actually set their costume on fire in a venue that's only filled with fake candles, but they keep proving him wrong.

"I think they need you." You say, feeling sorry that he had to go back to his duties after everything that went on.

"More than I need them." Taehyun sighs, getting up from his seat. He doesn't bother to pack up his belongings, merely stretching out his body before turning back to you. He notices your eyes on his bag and he reassures you that no one's going to want to approach a shady looking bag in front of a creepy building at night. At least, not while he's around.

"Sorry again." You say as he slowly made his way to the building. "I'll make it up to you somehow."

Taehyun pauses. "What's the glitter for?"

"Oh, it's for our Halloween treat shop."

You blink as Taehyun turns to face you. You half expected him to smile or something, but he only continued to look at you with the same tired eyes from earlier. "If you want to make it up to me for ruining my sleep, then wait for me here."

"Huh?"

"We'll go to your little shop together once I'm done." He says, now smiling. "And you're going to treat me to everything I want."

[inkedtae]

#6 Jungkook Fluff ... smut if you want, but fluffy fluff

➻ prompt from dabble drabble

    ⤑ #6 “Baby, could you be happy here with me?”

    ⤑  word count; 1.9k

    ⤑  rating; pg

    ⤑ warnings; swearing

➻ le playlist 

a quick drabble before i call it a night. enjoy!

Time stood still amongst the dust and cobwebs. The attic preserved generations of forgotten family ties as rays of the setting sun seeped through the dirty windows. Jungkook sang a  quiet tune, his angelic voice bouncing off the old wooden walls. He had his back to you, sifting through old letters and age-stained documents. He tsked to himself, slightly quirking his head to the side, and set whatever he was looking at aside.

You pushed yourself up on the landing from the ladder, the old floors creaking beneath your feet. That sweet melody of his ceased and he turned to the noise. His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you over his shoulder before turning back to the birth certificate in his hand. 

“Did you find it?” you asked, tip-toeing your way between ruined furniture and abandoned knick knacks. A little toy car hid from your line of sight and you stepped on it, squealing in surprise at the little squeak that left it. You froze in your place, trying to lean over the stack of books that blocked you for seeing what the hell that was. For all you knew it could’ve been a mouse or something of that nature. 

Jungkook, about to answer, turned back to you, concern washed over his face. He chuckled to himself when he saw your terrified expression. “Babe, it’s just a toy,” he smiled, taking two big steps around the mess that kept you too apart. He held his hand out for you and you took it, letting him guide you to where he was previously standing. There was very little space by that particular box he was looking through, your bodies pressed together when you finally reached him.

You looked up at him, eyes wide as you took in his features up close. “Hi,” you giggled. Puckering your lips, you only just reach up to peck the little dot beneath his lip. 

Jungkook breathed a chuckle, warm air fanning over your face. He kissed your temple, smiling down at you. “Hey,” he replied, “how are things downstairs?” 

You shrugged, before turning your body to box, picking up the letters he set down to go help you. Your new position forced him out of the way. He chuckled to himself and quickly adapted, positioning himself behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist, the side of his face pressed to yours as he read the letter over your shoulder. 

“Are they still arguing over how to properly tape a box?” he asked. You could hear the smirk in his voice and, without even having to look over your shoulder, you knew that his eyes were sparkling with amusement. 

You shook your head. “No, your dad’s cleaning up the mess in the living room now,” you replied. “And your mom gave me and your brother an earful about how to properly pick out pretty plate settings for special dinners.”

Jungkook sighed, kissing your cheek tenderly. “I’m sorry,” he chuckled. You could tell he was feeling bad for forcing you to stop by his grandmother’s house with his family before your planned trip to Tokyo. “I promise the moment we find that stupid music box, we’re gone. We don’t even have to stay for dinner.”

You froze, turning your head to look up at him. “You put me through six lessons of plate picking and now you wanna deprive me of a meal?” you jokingly asked. He chuckled, looking down guiltily at the letter. You knew he was wanting to change the subject, to slip away from the question quietly, and that only made you laugh harder. 

You kissed his cheek when you settled down a bit, catching him by surprise, then giggled. “I’m just teasing you, kookie. You know I really like your family. Your dad always grumbles things under his breath about your mom. And when he thinks she’s not around, he’d teach us the real way of picking plate settings.” 

Jungkook laughed, shaking his head. “Yup, that sounds like him. Has she caught him yet?”

“Nope,” you smiled, “but your brother and I came up with a signal so if she does neither of us will miss it.”

His face didn’t reflect the same excitement as yours, eyes slowly turning vacant as if he was lost in a trace. Your smile wavered a bit as you gazed up at him. You bit your lip, wondering if you had maybe said something offensive, or taken this whole teasing his parents thing too far. 

“Do you like the house?” he suddenly whispered, tightening his arms around you. Your back was flush against his chest now and he rested his forehead on yours. 

You nodded, voice caught in your throat. His eyes looked so lost, searching for something within your gaze. “It’s been in your family for generations, right?” you whispered. 

“Hm,” he hummed in agreement. “The entire Jeon line lived in this house at one point. My mom used to make us stay over the summer.” 

“So you’ve been up here a lot,” you murmured only to have him shake his head. 

He licked his lips, flickering his gaze down to your mouth before continuing, “only once before when I was ten, I think. My grandma wanted me to place a box of her things up here. I put it right here,” he said, glancing at the box before you. “It was early in the morning. I saw the light hit something shiny in there so I opened the box and found the most beautiful music box. It was placed over a pile of letters and photos. I wanted to open it, but she called on me at the bottom of the ladder.” 

You listened carefully, letting his sweet voice lull you into this dream-like memory of his. “Why’s this music box so special to you?” you quietly questioned. You had been wanting to ask him that question since he brought it up two nights ago when he announced your detour. 

He kissed each of your cheeks then the tip of your nose, making you blush. “This place has a certain charm, don’t you think?” he asked instead. 

You were too flustered by his tender kisses to fight him on the topic change. “Charm seems to be a Jeon family trait,” you teased, biting your lip. 

He chuckled, nudging his nose against yours. You laughed along with him, that vacant look resurfacing. 

“Baby, could you be happy here with me?” His voice was barely above a whisper, only just reaching your ears. The husk in his voice sparked wild nerves up and down your spine, making you all but shiver against his strong embrace. 

“Yes,” you breathed, gaze flickering down to his lips. 

He smiled then pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was the most gentle you've ever shared, his precious lips softly pushing upon yours. You were still gasping for air when he pulled away, remaining in the trance of his kiss with your eyes still shut. 

“I asked my grandma about the music box when I came down,” he continued the tale, picking up where he left off. “She told me that it was an heirloom, passed down from father to son when the son met the woman he loved. My parents had returned it to my grandmother when they were moving to a smaller place, wanting to keep it safe here.” 

He tucked his face in your neck, peppering your skin with little kisses. “ I asked my dad about it a few days ago,” he muttered against the crook of your neck. “He told me it was still somewhere up here and that they were coming here over the weekend so I could come look for it then if I wanted to.”

You inhaled sharply as he sucked on that particular spot, licking the little mark when he was done, and kissed it. “What exactly are you trying to tell me, Jeon?” you basically gasped, eyes fluttering open. 

“That I love you, baby,” Jungkook replied with very little hesitance. He met your gaze again and you finally realized what that look was, that vacant, dazed look he’d been holding this entire time. It was admiration; the look of a goofy, dorky man in love. 

You smiled, a little giggle escaping you. You were about to tell him that you loved him too, when a strangled bird’s call sounded. 

Jungkook’s face contorted with disgust as he looked around the attic for the source. “What the fuck was that?”

“The signal!” you shouted, quickly turning around to make your way back to the ladder. 

In the midst of the excitement, you seemed to forget how little space there was for the two of you to move at the same time and you ended up tripping over your own feet, reaching for the box in front of you while Jungkook reached for your frame, trying to catch you before you fell. 

The piles and bounds of letters and loose documents spilled out, a small little white box, tumbling out with them. 

“Fuck, are you okay?” Jungkook asked, pulling you up. He had his hands on your hips, looking up and down your frame to make sure there weren’t any cuts or little bruises you collected from your fall. 

You pushed his left hand away so you could bend down and pick the dusty little box. Jungkook fell silent beside you. Even covered with a thick layer of dust and dirt, it was still beautiful. You wiped the grim off with your finger as you stood back up, examining the tiger lily painted on the top. You looked up at him, silently asking to open it. 

Jungkook smiled and nodded, eager to see what was inside too. You unclasped the gold hook and gently pushed it open. The soft, dream-like tune echoed in the room and you snapped your head up at Jungkook, immediately recognizing it. “How did you-”

“I didn’t,” he quickly replied, looking just as shocked as you did. “My grandma used to sing that to me all the time when I’d visit,” he explained. 

The choked caw of a bird returned, louder this time, cutting over the sweet tune. 

“Of all the signals to come up with,” Jungkook smirked. “You picked the sound of a dead bird?”

“It’s a dove,” you corrected.

He rolled his eyes, muttering a little “whatever” under his breath. You ignored him, about to walk back to the ladder when he suddenly picked you up. 

“You have no idea how to get through here, babe, let’s not kid ourselves,” he chuckled as he carried you to the exit. 

You descended down first, looking up at him. He was looking down at you, waiting for you to fully land on your feet before following. His eyes redirected to the right for a moment as a smile played on his lips. “What?” he nervously chuckled. “You’re missing the scolding.”

You reached up and pressed your lips to his softly, just as he had done to you earlier. “Thanks for the music box,” you smiled. 

He looked up at the ceiling, trying to fight off a smile. “When did I say it was for you?” he teased as you descended down the ladder.

“Because I’ve been holding it since we found it and you hadn't asked for it back at all.”

He jumped down the last few steps, turning to look at you. He bit his lip to hold back his grin but it only made him want to smile even more. “I would like it back no-”

“Too late; it’s mine,” you declared, running away from him.

“(Y/N)!”

“Jungkook!”

[willow-salix]

Isolation update!

Day 75 of Isolation on Tracy Island.

“Come on, chop chop, time to wash my baby!” Scott yodled down the stairs to us. The cleaning of Thunderbird One had been pushed back by the impromptu brother bashing that took place in the form of Shakespeare. Since it was kinda my fault that his precious one had acquired it’s new decoration and I had promised to help but, that didn’t mean that I had to go quietly or that I couldn't rope in extra hands to help.

“Come on, you promised!” I pouted, dragging John and Alan by their hands.

“No fair, we have to do our chores and yours?” Alan whined.

“No, you help us so that we can be done quicker and then get to that movie you are forcing me to watch with you,” I retorted.

“Fine,” he huffed. “But I can still complain while doing it, right?”

“Sure, kiddo, knock yourself out.”

Scott was waiting for us with buckets of water, a special cleaner that Virgil had mixed up for them that was gentle on the paint jobs but tough on the stains that always seemed to stick to their crafts like glue.

We were given our orders the moment we appeared and John and I got to work on the top part of the graffiti anatomy while Scott and Alan tackled the…bottom bulges.

"This is so boring!" Alan moaned, rubbing at the paint.

“Where’s Virg and Gordo?” Scott asked, growing a little red in the face as he scrubbed like crazy at the paint that had marred his crafts perfection.

“Have no fear, the squid is here!” Gordon glided past us. And when I say glided, I mean he zoomed past quite gracefully on his roller skates.

“Gordon...” Scott sighed, he didn’t need to say anything else, the tone said it all.

“Hey, I said I’d help, I didn’t say I wouldn't do it with style!”

He tapped a few buttons on his comm and music began to pound through the hangar. It was awful music, but it had a beat that you just couldn’t help but vibe to.

Music always makes things better, no matter how bad it is and I was soon having myself a nice little boogie time as I worked on a particularly stubborn line of paint.

We worked our way through three increasingly terrible songs, scrubba-dub-dubbing at One and by working together we had cleaned off all the graffiti that had so offended Scott.

“Phew, nearly done,” I huffed, wiping my sweating forehead with the back of my hand. “How is it so hot down here?”

“It was an active volcano…” John started but Gordon jumped in.

“I’ll help!”

“No, Gordon it’s fine I- gahhhhhh!” I spluttered as a jet of water hit me full in the face.

“Gordon,” John sighed. “If I was you, I’d run.”

“I’ll kill him!” I screamed, grabbing a bucket of dirty water and hurling it at his rapidly retreating back. I missed, obviously, as I am both a terrible shot and not as strong as the boys, which meant that my projectile missed it’s mark by a good few feet and hit Virgil who had at that very moment, chosen to walk around the nose cone and appear as if by magic.

“Hey, what the heck?” he yelped as the bucket crashed to earth at his feet, soaking his shoes and his jeans up to the knee.

“I’m sorry, I was aiming for Gordon!”

“Understandable,” he agreed, shaking his foot like a dog with sticky tape on his toe. “I have a water cannon on Two.”

“I don’t think this warrants anything that drastic,” I told him, “but thank you for the offer.”

“We have a lot of sponges here,” Alan pointed out, lifting one up and dropping it on the floor with a wet splat.

“Do I take it that you’re all done cleaning then?” Scott asked, but I suspect he already knew the answer. One was half clean, the graffiti was gone and now we were just cleaning the rest of it, it could wait.

“Yep!” Alan grabbed his bucked and emptied it out, filling it with fresh water and dumped in a few sponges before taking off for the door. We all did the same and followed close behind him.

We caught up with Gordon out on Two’s runway where he was happily skating. We took aim and let the missiles fly, pelting him with wet sponges taking him by surprise.

He retaliated by trying to catch the sponges that flew his way and tossing them back. One hit me square in the chest and I flailed, stumbling backwards. Virgil swooped in and caught me like a true superhero and set me back on my feet.

Alan, little legend that he is, somehow located a big water pistol from parts unknown and loaded up, squirting a long stream at Gordon.

Gordon, soaking wet, zig-zagged madly here and there on his skates, trying to avoid the onslaught.

John emerged from the hangar with the same hose that Gordon had attacked me with and turned it on Gordon, who shrieked in horror as the water smacked him straight in the crotch.

“Why does everyone aim there on me?!” he bellowed, sending Alan into hysterics.

I grabbed another sponge and aimed at Gordon but, once again, I missed. It was a combination of my aim letting me down and the wind intervening to send the sponge hurtling at John to smack him square in the chest.

“You got me!” he accused, having previously remained dry and unscathed.

“I’m sorry!” He looked so put out that I had to hold in a giggle. I failed.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"No?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"OK, I am, but just a tiny bit. Forgive me?"

He opened his arms and I shuffled over for a hug. He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tight…too tight.

"Get her!" he yelled, spinning me around and lifting me off my feet.

I screamed and kicked as I was pelted from all sides.

"Oh, it's on!" I yelled, managing to catch a sponge that was aimed at my chest and slapping it into John's face. He spluttered and dropped me.

I was up in seconds and grabbed a bucket, throwing the entire contents at Scott who had just turned the hose on me.

"You beast!"

"You got me!"

"Take that!"

"Noooo, not down my shirt!"

"That was so cold!"

"I'll get you for that!"

"Duck!"

Chaos, screams, yelled insults and threats filled the air. Water, sponges and buckets were flying in all directions, someone had even managed to find a towel and John had soaked it and was using it to whip anyone that came to close.

"Back! Away, thou loathsome toad!" he whirled the towel like a lion tamer, whipping at the air in warning.

Virgil had hold of Alan's water pistol and was aiming at people, getting many of us directly between the eyes or in our mouths.

Gordon had kicked off his skates, needing more stability and was capering around like a drunk monkey, dodging streams of water and retaliating with his own.

I ducked behind Virgil, using him as a shield when I spotted Scott sneaking to the side and diving into the hangar.

"Where did he go?" Alan demanded to know.

"I don't know!" Gordon yelled back.

Something moved to the side of me, catching my eye, then it happened again. Poles rose out of the ground, evenly spaced along the runway.

"Scott, no!" John yelled but he was too late.

"Scott yes!" Scott yelled back.

The fire hoses burst into life, raining water down all around us, soaking us to the skin.

"Ha! I win! Scott whooped in triumph as we all screamed.

We were a soaked to the skin, dripping wet mess by the time we finally called it a day and headed inside to get dry. The boys hair was sticking up all over the place where they had rubbed it dry with towels and their beards were still damp and they would never win any beauty contests. Honestly, if their fans could see them now they would abandon them in disgust, but you know what, it's good that they have had this time to let their hair down (literally) and to take some much needed time off. We don't know how long lockdown is going to last, but for now we are all treating it like an enforced vacation and making the most of it. Even if they do all look like castaways on their own island.

(Big mahoosive thanks to the awesome Isabelle who made me this picture in celebration of making it 75 days of lockdown. The boys looking like absolute ragamuffins. But her attention to detail is amazing, Alan's tiny man bun, Scott's half pony, Gordon's tragic beard, Virgil's lame duck flock of seagulls on his head, John's Disney bangs, Brains with his shaven head, it's freaking perfect.)

[mnthpprt]

Chapter 45: Skeletons In The Garden

It has been almost a week since I decided to give William a chance. More than that, I decided to earn his trust, no matter what it took. I think I am succeeding so far, but there is a price I have to pay. With every day we spend together in town, with every night we join our bodies into one, we become closer. Just as I have gained his trust, he is beginning to gain mine. I have to constantly remind myself why I came here, but then he looks at me with that smile, that light in his eyes... It takes all my effort not forget the reason I agreed to be with him in the first place.

I sleepily stumble around the kitchen in search of the jar of ground coffee, wearing nothing but William’s dressing gown. I borrowed it again last night to head back to my bedroom and fell asleep in it. Though the sleeves are way too long for me, the fabric is luxurious and soft, and I have taken up the habit of stealing it after our nightly activities.

A few minutes ago, William woke me up without bothering to knock on my door.  He said we were going somewhere, but did not explain any further. I was too tired to ask. Though it is not that early, I have been having more trouble sleeping than usual, and I have the feeling it has nothing to do with my new vampiric condition. Fuck, this man drives me insane in every way possible: I either want to kiss him, break his nose, or both. That last one gets very confusing, and usually ends up involving lots of bites from me, out of anger, and from him, in retaliation. 

I pour a cup for him before taking my coffee up to my bedroom. I stare at my clothes, which are laid out on the bed, as I drink it. I have been putting off returning to the mansion for my stuff, but I do need more dresses. I would also like to resume my research, so I’ll have to borrow some books for that.

When I return downstairs, empty cup in hand and hair loosely braided, William is waiting for me on the sofa. He offers me a bottle of rouge, and I pet Puck as I take it.

“Today is the troupe’s day off,” I observe.

“I know,” he simply replies. Where is he taking me? As if he could read my mind, he smiles and sips his rouge before explaining. “Dost thou remember how I wanted thee to meet someone?”

I nod, but narrow my eyes as the implication sinks in. Either he really trusts me enough to introduce me to his deranged accomplice, or this is his way to get rid of me once and for all. Sure, he has been nothing but charming and sweet since I moved into his house, but this is William. If there is a God, even He doesn’t know what he’s plotting.

An hour later, our carriage pulls up next to an old church. From the outside, I see no signs of it being used. It looks rather abandoned. However, as we approach the entrance, I catch the scent of burning candles, meaning there must be people inside. What is this place?

The wooden door creaks loudly when William pushes it open, just enough for us to pass through. Once inside, he closes it behind us.

“Please lock that, will you?” a man’s voice chimes from the altar. I cannot see him, but I hear glass tinkering behind the decorative screen in the back.

“Do not worry, we shall be quick,” William says, but obliges anyway. Great, now I am trapped here with a stranger who might have killed me.

He takes my hand and guides me down the nave. Our steps echo ominously under the high stone arches, and I have to take a deep breath to relax. Do not show them you are nervous, Anaïs, for they might take it the wrong way. For God’s sake, act normal.

We walk past the altar and into the ambulatory, where the stranger in question seems to have set up a lab of sorts, packed with all kinds of flasks, beakers, and, uh... medical equipment. Creepy. He is slightly taller than William, slender and dressed in clothing as black as his hair, and wears glasses with a chain around his neck.

“What do we have here?” he asks with a malicious grin that gives me shivers. He has a mild German accent. “Is this the neophyte you mentioned? She would make a fine guinea pig...”

“No, thank you.” He raises an eyebrow at my quick reply, while William chuckles and wraps his arm around my waist.

“My nightshade, this is Johann Georg Faust. Johann, meet Anaïs.”

“Faust like the legend?”

“The very same,” William smiles.

“Oh. Nice to meet you, I guess. So, um... What are you doing there?” I ask, pointing at the collection of scribbled on papers and lab equipment.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with, fräulein Anaïs. I am sure you would find my experiments rather tedious...”

I ignore the condescending tone of his answer. A sculpture behind him has caught my eye. Faust interrupts his deceivingly polite excuse when I march past him to approach it.

“Oh, hell no,” I mumble. “María, cariño, ¿qué te han hecho? (Mary, honey, what have they done to you?)”

 I reach up to touch the Virgin’s gilded coat and, sure enough, the gold leaf crumbles in my fingers, leaving behind a glittery mess. I turn to the bespectacled man, only for my look of indignation to be met with his, equal parts intrigued and offended.

“She’s falling apart! See?” I show the golden dust on my palm to the two men. “I need to fix this before it gets-” Oh no he didn’t. Right beside Faust, on his work table, I see a clean rag neatly folded beside a bottle of clear liquid. ‘Carbolic acid’, the label reads. I bring the cloth to my nose and immediately put two and two together. “You wiped it with phenol?!” I exclaim, incredulous, as I furiously wave the rag around. “I don’t know why you needed to disinfect poor Mary over here in the first place, but for fuck’s sake, don’t do it again. God, no wonder everyone hates this stupid century, y’all discover something and decide to use it for everything without ever thinking about what it might do.”

“Everyone?” William asks, confused.

“This century?” Faust says almost at the same time.

“In my line of work, I mean,” I explain, completely ignoring the second question. I am not sure how safe it would be for me to mention that I come from the future. “Seriously, the amount of damage I’ve had to undo is insane. Why you people use so many questionable compounds is beyond me. Can I borrow a scalpel?”

“You came through the door,” Faust states. Shit, I guess he knows about it.

“Yes, I’m from the future,” I sigh, before grabbing a scalpel myself, not bothering to wait for permission.

I return my focus to the sculpture and carefully examine it. The state it is in is poorer than I had previously noticed. Judging by the proportions, it looks gothic. That makes it around 300 years old at least. Though the passage of time has obviously taken its toll, I have no doubt that its degradation has been made worse by well-meaning yet ignorant attempts at preserving it. Or, in Faust’s case, by his attempt to prep the area for whatever freaky surgical shit he has going on here. I must admit, the fact that he allegedly sold his soul to the devil for knowledge does not exactly reassure me about his intentions.

“The year 2020, to be exact,” I continue as I awkwardly manoeuvre around the sculpture to scrape some paint and gesso off the back in order to check the state of the wood underneath. “I’m guessing you’re not a pureblood... Do you know how to use a shotgun, by any chance?” I ask casually without looking up from my delicate task.

“Is this about Salieri?” Judging by Faust’s tone, I can tell he is rolling his eyes. “That would be Charles,” he sighs. Whoever this Charles is, Faust sounds like a bored babysitter. He has no interest in the conversation whatsoever. “May I have my scalpel back? You’re going to blunt it.”

“I’m almost done.” I manage to cut a cross section just in time to see him approach and forcibly take the sharp object from my hand. I then make my way back to the work table and search for what I need, carefully holding the thin slice of wood and gesso between my fingers. “Do you have a... What are they called, those round looky things with the handle?”

“Magnifying glass,” William aids.

“Yeah, that. Actually,” I change my mind when I see a pile of neatly stacked glass slides, “I’m gonna take one of these. I forgot that microscopes already exist. Where is yours, anyway?”

“Safely locked away,” the alchemist deadpans. Oh well, it looks like I’ll have to save my sample for later, then.

William takes my hand and gently ushers me away from the improvised lab, I assume to stop me from annoying its owner any further. Though he acts polite, I can tell it is nothing more than a weak façade that could drop any second.

“My dearest,” he says, “we should move on to the reason of our visit?”

“Vlad, was it?” I nod. He merely mentioned the name in passing days ago, but I have hung onto that minuscule snippet of information like my life depends on it. It might.

He leads me to a discrete door nestled in the corner of the transept to our left. Before we can reach it, however, Faust calls out from behind the altar.

“I look forward to studying you, fräulein.”

“Well, I do not!” I sing in response. He lets out an unnerving chuckle that I decide to ignore.

I follow William through the door and up a dark staircase. As we walk along the hallway, I get the feeling that he does not know exactly where he is leading me, either. Still, he finds the person he was looking for inside a small room. It looks like it had been used for storage in the past, but now is completely empty save for a desk and a few chairs. The white haired man sitting on one of them looks up when we enter through the already open door. This must be him. The pureblood that is going after the residents.

He is strikingly beautiful, despite the unnervingly red shade of his eyes. Dressed in expensive clothes, he moves elegantly to greet me. I instinctively do the polite thing and offer my hand for him to hold.

“Anaïs Bertran, I presume?” His voice is slightly breathy, and as delicately controlled as his poise. “You are as beautiful as a rose.”

I do not dare to complain out loud, but I give William an exasperated look, causing him to laugh. I smack his arm.

“Stop being a dickhead,” I scold him, even though I have to hold back a smile.

“Ah, I see you have thorns as well,” the other man chuckles. “It is rare for such a pretty flower to be so foul mouthed. I must confess I appreciate it, it adds character. Was that some kind of joke between you two?”

“I guess you could call it that,” I sigh. “I just think there are more interesting flowers to be compared to.”

“Such as?” he prompts.

“I don’t know, lisianthus, dahlias... Sunflowers are pretty nifty, and I’ve always liked orchids. People tend to think they’re really hard to grow, for some reason, but they just need a bit of attention and the right amount of light. Chrysanthemums are also really cool...” I ramble.

“Those are an old favorite of mine, but not as much as roses, I’m afraid. Do you enjoy gardening?”

“Is it that obvious?” I chuckle, embarrassed. “But yeah, I worked as a florist for a few years.”

“Oh?” he smiles. “I own a flower shop in town. I sense we are going to get along well, Anaïs. Oh my, how rude of me! I forgot to introduce myself. You may call me Vlad.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” I politely say before tilting my head. “I have to say, I find it a bit strange to be here, speaking to you. I mean, you sent a sniper after Salieri to stop him from revealing your identity, yet here we are, being formally introduced,” I remark.

“Yes, I am well aware of the incident that took place. Quite a fortunate outcome you got, don’t you think?”

“If by fortunate you mean bleeding out in a sewer, then sure, but I beg to differ.” A cold smile accompanies my response. Not only did dying obliterate any semblance of a schedule I had, it also caused me to be turned into... this. I have nothing against vampires, but I’d rather not go through the pain of being a neophyte, or whatever these people call it. 

“Pardon my crudeness, but isn’t that what happens when you jump in front of a bullet that is not meant for you?” Vlad quips.

“Yeah... That is the stupidest thing I have ever done, can’t argue with that logic,” I mutter, resigned. “By the way, if you’re gonna play with gunpowder inside a tunnel, I’d recommend finding another one that isn’t full of highly flammable methane gas. Just a tip,” I wink.

Our tense exchange is interrupted by a knock on the door frame. Under it stands another man with a boyish smile and shaggy hair.

“I bought those strawberries you- Oh.” He pauses when he sees me, his eyes growing wide in recognition. “Hello there.”

“Are you Charles?” I innocently ask, approaching him. When he nods, I smirk. 

There is no warning when I grab his jacket and shoot my knee into his groin at full force. I hear William’s incredulous snort behind me, along with a muffled chuckle belonging to Vlad.

“Argh, putain!” Charles groans, folding over in pain. I observe him as I wait for him to recover. “Why?” he cries from the floor. I simply pull my dress down to reveal the scar on my cleavage. His mouth opens and closes quickly, not knowing what to say.

“Sorry, just had to get that out of my system,” I explain with no trace in my voice of the violence I just displayed. “I’m Anaïs,” I smile, offering my hand. He takes it, and I pull him to his feet. The boyish grin returns to his face as he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck.

“I am so sorry about shooting you, it was an accident. You jumped out of nowhere! I didn’t even want to in the first place, but- Ehem, sorry.”

I follow his gaze when he suddenly interrupts himself with a fake cough. Vlad’s eyes are slightly narrowed in what I can only assume is a look of warning. Okay, something’s going on. Well, yet another thing, on top of the long list of unexplained actions from this strange group of people.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say before the silence becomes awkward, “we’re even now.” I turn to the pureblood and look at him inquisitively. “Anyway, I have a lot of questions. I don’t want to judge until I know exactly what your intentions are for doing whatever it is you’re doing. I have to admit I am finding it hard to keep my emotions under control, so we better get on with it, yeah?”

I do not need to justify my volatile state. Vlad knows perfectly well that he was the one to cause it.

[iheartgrayson]

redwood camp | grayson dolan

💘 SMUT💘

"I don't have a good feeling for what we are about to do." 

"Babe, that's what you are saying for the past twenty four hours. Please, say something else." Grayson plead his longtime girlfriend as he tried to settle the trunk, their new bed.

"Well, I'm repeating myself because you don't seem to listen to me." Y/N scoffed at his answer while also rolling her eyes. 

"Sorry, but I do listen to you. I'm just ignoring your shane thoughts. I mean what can I possibly happen here?" He showed the place around and Y/N followed with her eyes his hands. "We will be just fine. I know the camp seems creepy but that's the spirit. Tomorrow is Halloween, it's supposed to be creepy."

Y/N sighed loudly as she fell on the bed with a big thumb too tired to argue with Grayson even more. You see, she had already agreed to come to this camp and oh look they were already here so there was nothing she could do to change it.

Grayson's all time favorite season is Halloween. Everybody knows that by now. So for this year he thought that it would be a great idea to go this closed camp that he found and stay there for at least two days so he could be all this creepy and spooky Halloween vibe because the freaking camp had not be opened since 1984 after a killing spree that happened then. 

So, he and Ethan along with Kyle took their girlfriends and packed their things and traveled there. The boys were thrilled opposite the girls that had each one a bad feeling lacking through their entire system. But, here they are.

Y/N came here for three main reasons; First, Grayson loved like we already said Halloween and she couldn't bring herself to say no to him. Secondly, it was the first thing both twins wanted to do after they decided to make a new chapter to their lives and Y/N supported them no matter what. And last but not least, she loved Grayson with her whole heart and seeing him happy made her whole heart dance like crazy.

Grayson walked in front of her and moved her fallen hair out of her beautiful face while he picked his nose. "Cheer up a bit, pumpkin. You will love it, I know."

"I'm just scared. That's all." She admitted and placed hands on top of his. 

"Well, I'm excited to do other things. I can't fucking wait." Grayson lowered his voice sexually while he climbed the trunk and pushed Y/N on her back while they both laughed like stupid teenagers in love.

Their lips touched and started moving together until someone cleared their throat and separated the young couple. Y/N and Grayson looked up to see Ethan standing with his arms crossed in front of his chest and with an annoyed looking plastered on his face. "What do you want Ethan?"

"I was just checking on you and came to see if you need help." He started and raised one eyebrow like a diva. "But I see you are totally good and settle. It's too early for those activities."

"First of all, I'm the survivor king around here so it's the other way around. And secondly, it's never too early for those activities. And don't have that look on your face like you don't have sex with Ivy. We can hear you loud and clear every night." Grayson argued back and stood back on his feet.

"Fuck you." Ethan exclaimed with a fake smile on his face. "Ivy is on her period so fuck you."

"We will. And it's not really our fault." Grayson laughed while Y/N smacked his bicep. 

"I will go and see if Kyle needs help. He has camera skills but not freaking survival ones." Ethan said then and walked to where Kyle parked his trunk.

They all decided to park couple miles away from each other to give privacy to each other and in case someone wanted to fuck like it was previously stated. They had a rope tangled on the trees so they knew where exactly the trunks were parked.

"Where were we?" Grayson turned his attention back to Y/N but he was interrupted by his twin again.

"Oh, I forgot. Campfire by eight." Ethan shouted and earned a growl from Grayson, because he fucking knew it since they already discussed the subject, and that earned his the middle finger from Ethan.

"Leave him," Y/N grabbed Grayson by the collar of his shirt as she saw him getting angry with Ethan. "Now, give me a freaking kiss because I'm gonna die here."

Grayson's eyes were back on her while a devilish smirk appeared on his plump lips and climbed back on the trunk and on top of her body while his fingers traveled up and down her juicy body and his lips on top of hers, a moan leaving her throat.

"Babe…" She breathed and bit Grayson's bottom lip when she felt his warm fingers underneath her skirt and right on top of her soaking wet panties.

"Damn it Y/N. You're dripping baby and I didn't even do anything." It was true. grayson could make her go crazy without even touching her. With just a look of him and she was ready to be filled with his huge cock. "Should I touch you baby with my fingers?"

"Yes!" It was very demanding.

"You don't get to boss around young lady." Grayson whispered in her ear. "I'm the boss here. You do as I say and I do as I want." 

She was in another word. Her body was on fire and her pussy was pulsating for his dick or his fingers; she didn't care. And her mind could not focus on anything other than this. 

"Did you understand?" Grayson asked her while shoving two fingers right inside her; she didn't even feel him moving her panties to the side. She could feel his long digits perfectly inside her, her walls squishing around them that she believed she would break them. "Did you understand Y/N?" 

Y/N gasped when Grayson finally decided to move his fingers, hard and fast. "Yes, yes. I understand." 

"Good. That's my girl." He smiled and kissed her nose while he stopped his fingers and pulled them out. He smirked at her shocked and angry face as he licked clean them completely. 

"Why did you-" Y/N was going to scold him for leaving her hanging like that until her ears picked a noise. "What was that?" She turned her head to the direction she heard it coming from.

"What was what?"

"I think I heard something Gray." Y/N looked at him and then back to the long forest and the empty houses that had been abandoned for thirty years. 

"Y/N you start getting delusional. It was probably the guys." He tried to reasoned her.

"But it was so strange baby."

"Like what Y/N?"

"I don't know Grayson. But it was weird." She argued and Grayson rolled his eyes.

"It's okay baby." He played along with her. "Whatever it is you don't have to be scared because I'm here and I will save you from everything and everyone that wants to hurt you." He kissed her hands that took inside his and smiled sheepishly at her.

Y/N let a breath out but nodded her head at her boyfriend's sweet and caring words. She knew that he was not messing with her and he actually meant every single word but deep down she still had the foreign feeling about the place. After all, people had been killed here and that place smelled like rotten blood and flesh.

"Alright, alright. I trust you and I love you." She forced a smile on her face and kissed his lips. 

"Come on, let's go and start that campfire." He grabbed her hand and helped her down the truck.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

"Put some more sticks so it would last all night." Kyle suggested as he turned to look at the boys who just sat down on the ground as they finally started a fucki g fire with a lot of a fucking effort. It was hard to start one and it was even more hard to start a fire while having Ethan next to your ear complaining non stop about everything and anything.

"We have more right there." Grayson breathed out as he tried to catch his breath and pointed somewhere for Kyle to see.

"I was right about the lighter. Next time listen to your order brother." Ethan complained and pointed his finger at Grayson.

"We agreed to do it the old fashion way, so I understand why you keep complaining about it when you agreed on the first place." Grayson tskd while cleaning his hands together and sitting properly. 

"Did you guys bring the food?" Ethan ignored his twin and turned them his attention, or better say complaints, to the females of the group. 

"Ethan, baby, please shut up!" Ivy told him with a straight face while she brought in front of his face the bag with the candy and marshmallows they brought for the campfire. Ethan took a look inside them and groaned. "What now?"

"Not those Ivy." He rolled his eyes. "The sandwiches with the dairy free cheese I made."

Ivy didn't say anything. No! She just took another bag and threw it straight to his face with a loud groan for him to hear and made the others laugh. Ethan looked at her with a serious look until he searched the bag and grabbed one of the two sandwiches and started eating.

"I think the fire is good enough, huh?" Kyle questioned and everyone nodded. He sat next to his girlfriend, Beth, and grabbed the sticks he sorted out for the marshmallows and started giving them out.

"Yeah, it will last for the night." Y/N agreed and fixed her costume. Yeah, costume.

 The six of them wore their Halloween costumes since it was going to be Halloween in couple hours and wanted to joined the spooky vibe. Everyone went by couple costume that year. Kyle and Beth were Woody and Jessie from Toy Story, Ethan and Ivy were Bobby Ross and one of his paintings and Grayson and Y/N were Steve and Robin from Stranger Things.

She fixed the hat that always seemed to fall from her curly hair and smiled as Grayson smiled at her and poked her nose. 

Everyone was enjoying the comfortable silence and each other's company until Ethan's mashing noises startled them and made them groan. He could be annoyed sometimes that someone could break a freaking vase on top of his head to make him stop. A real drama queen.

"Look, I feel it is the best time to start the stories, don't you think?" Y/N asked them as she ripped open the package with the marshmallows and after taking one she passed it across the group and placed it on the stick and then on the fire. "Who will start, huh?"

"I'll start, I'll start." Beth screamed like a small kid and made herself comfortable. "So, Two college roommates are in the same science class, and the big midterm is tomorrow morning. Marie wants to stay in and study, but Tara wants to go out and party with a cute guy from the lacrosse team. She leaves Marie to her studies. When she gets home very late that night, Marie is in bed and the lights are off. Tara goes to bed without turning the lights on, trying not to disturb her studious friend. In the morning, she goes to wake Marie so they won't be late for the test... but Marie's body lies stiff, and her bed is soaked in blood. On the wall above her, scrawled in blood, are the words "Aren't You Glad You Didn't Turn on the Light?"." 

Everyone stood there and listened to her story that wasn't even that scary but it was shocking a bit. "Listen, baby girl, it was a good one but not that spooky." Kyle told her truthfully while hugging her sideways.

"But it was a good one, good job Beth." Ivy stepped in once she took a glance at the girl's disappointed face who gave her a small smile and nodded her head.

"I'm next." Ethan cleaned his mouth and swallowed the big bite from his second sandwich, took a sip from his coca cola that he opened a bit ago, and started. " The story goes that if you look into a mirror in a darkened room and chant "Bloody Mary" three times, you'll see the ghostly visage of Bloody Mary herself staring back at you. That, or she'll pop out of the mirror and kill you."

He stopped his story and started laughing like a maniac because he was being the funny one out of the group but stopped when he noticed that no one but him was laughing at his side joke. "what?"

"Really Ethan?" Ivy asked him.

"You're such an asshole." Grayson said and threw a small rock at his brother whom caught him off guard.

"It was a good one but you are too small heads to like my jokes."

"Let's give Ethan and his jokes a break and let me start the real spooky and terrifying story here." Grayson suggested. He ate the marshmallow and after galping he cleared his throat. "The story is about the camp."

"Which camp? This one camp that we are here right now?" Y/N questioned him with wide eyes and her mouth opened. She was scared about the place and now she was going to shit her pants, or probably her skirt, because she knew that whatever Grayson was going to say it would be true. Redwood Camp was very popular about the killings that once happened but truth waa she never actually heard or read the story.

"No, the summer camp we used to go as kids." Ethan sassed and earned a hard glare from Y/N and another one from Ivy.

"Yes, Y/N. This one that we're staying tonight." Grayson said and grabbed another marshmallow for the fire. "So, almost fifty years ago this camp, Redwood Camp, was a beautiful and nice place for kids to come on summer and enjoy their days. Everything was perfectly normal except one day that everything happened."

"Are you going to keep that stupid voice for the rest of the story?" Ethan asked referring to the deep voice that Grayson used and tried to terrify the others but to the older twin it was ridiculous.

"Oh my God! Fuck you Ethan!" Grayson irritated stated and made the others laugh. "Where were we? Oh, yeah. So, that night everyone was asleep but the very annoying jingling of keys disturbed their sleeping and got them all confused but at the same time scared."

"Well, I would be annoyed as fuck. I need my beauty sleep." Ethan interrupted once again and this time a hard slap on his head made him searched to his girlfriend's eyes. "Why?"

"Well, you're being an annoyed fucking asshole. Next time it would be in the freaking nuts Ethan." From the hard look and the promise she gave him, Ethan knew better than to mess amother time with them. 

"Gray, continue please." Beth spoke after a while.

"So, the jingling got louder and louder than until a figure started stabbing them to death. Every single soul in the camp and as a trophy he chopped off the ear of each victim and made a big necklace out of them." It was a very good and scary story.

"Is this like real?" Kyle asked with raised eyebrows, clearly not believing not a single word.

"Totally, I read the newspapers. And that's not even the scary part."

"What is it?"

"The guy that got arrested for that was not even the real criminal. Fourteen years later, the camp reopened by the real criminal, who was a woman, and killed every again including the fake killer." 

"Shit, I just shit my pants." Y/N let a breath she was holding and grabbed his bicep and brought him closer to her. "And now you want us to stay and sleep here in this motherfucking camp where a freaking serial killer was."

"Sweetheart, that killer was here like thirty five years ago. She got arrested and eventually I think she killed herself. I'm not sure. There has not been a record of killings here because simply the camp wasn't opened since then." Grayson explained and he hugged her body cllse to his in order to soothe her nerves.

"And how did we exactly manage to stay here overnight? I mean that shit is close, like you said." 

"Because it's open for the audience. I read that some others campers staued here too over the years and everyone was absolutely just fine." Ethan stepped in, helping his brother since both of them found the abandoned camp and decided to come here.

"Perfect, if it wasn't my love for you, you would be here all alone." Y/N clarified and pecked Grayson's lips and a small moan left his throat, one that only she could hear. She side smiled.

Y/N took out her phone and checked the time. "Guys, I want to go on a walk with my Gray bear so get up!" She stood on her feet and gave her hand to Grayson who immediately took it and smiled widely.

"Yeah, Gray bear, go!" Ethan and Kyle teased and Grayson rolled his eyes and ignored them while he walked off with his girlfriend. Y/N was all smiles because she was not actually in the mood to go on a walk but she wanted some alone time with him, especially since she was way too horny right now and she wanted to take her mind away from the fact that this place was a graveyard, no joke.

The other two couples did the same, copying them despite the fact that they were laughing at them earlier.

Y/N and Grayson were walking hand by hand, enjoying the comfortable silence, before she pushed him in the bear by tree and smacked her lips to his pump and puffy lips. She was pushing her tongue inside his mouth being dominant before Grayson could even process what was happening.

The moment the pieces clicked together, Grayson grabbed Y/N by her waist and pushed her smaller body closer to his larger one and let her have the control she longed for.

She smiled and bit his bottom lip which made Gray groan and also made him gusp loud when her hand touch his dick from top of his pants and palmed him fast. "Oh my God, Y/N, slo- slow down." He laughed and she immediately slowed down the pace.

"Can't help it. I need you." She left small and wet kisses along his jawline and then traveled to his ear and whispered, "you make me so wet baby boy. Dripping wet."

Grayson was about to touch her, to make sure she was actually telling the truth but she stopped him. "No, no. You don't decide what's happening here."

He looked down at her, taking couple seconds to process but smirked and nodded his head. "Sure, momma."

Y/N pleased his answer turned her body and pressed her ass straight to his dick, that was hard- rock hard-, and started moving it up and down as Grayson placed his hands on her love handles moaning and groaning. "Oh shit, oh shit." 

You could hear Grayson's desperate moans clear and loud, besides Grayson was a loud bitch and was not ashamed of that, and if the guys could hear them they would knew what was happening.

Y/N moved her hands underneath her panties and immediately started cycling her aching clit; close eyes, open mouth, hands moving in circles along with her ass. "Mmm, I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna…" She was there within milliseconds; their earlier encounter helped a lot.

She moaned, filling Grayson's ears with her sweet voice and stopped moving leaving him hanging. "Why did you stop?" He complained and opened his eyes to see her coming down from her high.

"I wanted to feel you inside me and maybe let you cum too, but if you don't want-" 

"No, I do. It's a perfect idea." Grayson cut her off and after he grabbed her hand, they started running behind his trunk or their bes for the night. Things would be way more comfortable there, that was for sure.

He was rocking hard. He wouldn't last long and he wanted to be buried deep inside Y/N, and by the way there weren't many times that she let him cum inside so he wouldn't miss an opportunity like that, and make her scream his name loud so the others could hear.

By the time they reached the trunk, Y/N had already smacked her lips with Grayson's and pushed his body on the back of the trunk. "You're really eager baby. And imagine you already had an orgasm." He teased her with a side smirk. His body went completely limp and he let her do whatever she wanted.

"Shut up Gray." She giggled and pulled his pants down along with his boxers. Grayson let a frustrating sigh feeling free after a lot of pressuring time and. His hard as rock cock hit his stomach and the precum leaked through the red tip.

"Y/N, love, if you can not see it by now, I'm kind of dying here." The words left his mouth through gritted teeth after Y/N didn't touch him for quite time. "Please, do something."

"Ah, finally!" Her pointer finger run along his lips and jaw. "I heard you beg for one time." 

Her giggling remind one of those of children which made Grayson smile despite the fact that he wanted to push her down and fuck her senseless. "Yeah, okay, now please do something, anything."

"Alright, alright." She assured him and her right hand traveled down his body and took his cock in her small palm and started stroking him, his leaking precum helping a bit but Grayson liked it kind of rough too, he was moaning like a mad man. "Does it feel good baby?"

"Yes… Yes." He breathed. He swallowed and stopped her movements with his own hand. Y/N looked up and met his eyes with a questioning look. "If you keep doing that I won't last." 

"Okay." She simply nodded her head. She let go of his cock and pulled her panties off the skirt of the costume and moved her body on top of Grayson's and smiled cheekily at him. "I will ride you like there's no tomorrow. I will rock your world."

"Do that babe." He grinned and placed his palm in her cheek and caressed it. He was so in love with her that he didn't need anyone else right now. Y/N went to pull of the hat of her costume, since it was bothering her, but Grayson stopped her. "Keep that. It looks hot on you."

"Sure, but let pull of yours. You look ridiculous on that." They both laughed and Y/N took the hat off and threw it somewhere on the truck. She leaned down and kissed Grayson on the lips; their lips connected so good, so perfect. Moved her body up and aligned Grayson's dick in her entrance.

Her dripping juices helping her place him inside her pussy without a problem; they both moaned, loud.

Grayson rolled his eyes on the back of his skull as Y/N closed her eyes tight. 

It was euphoric. It was electricity. They clicked together like two missing puzzles. They were made for each other, their bodies were made to only fit for each other and no one else. 

"Jesus, Y/N, you're so tight." Grayson furrowed his eyebrows as he let her take over the control of his body making feel like he was on cloud nine.

"Just for you baby. Ugh, I know i say this a lot but you're freaking big." 

Encouraging and complimenting each other was what they always did to make each other feel comfortable with their bodies. It was a way to work stereotypes.

"Keep going, keep going. I'm gonna cum soon." He confessed and the grip he had on her waist tighten. Y/N placed her hands on his broad chest to balance herself and picked up the rhythm, trying to make her boyfriend cum.

"And you will cum deep inside my pussy baby. You're gonna fill me so good I will never want to open my legs and let your cum run down my thighs." She whispered in his ear and you could hear Grayson's breath caught in his throat.

"Oh shit!" He moaned, stopped her movements on top of him, curled his toes and held her down on his as Grayson finally reached his high. His eyes rolled back and his mouth opened in a 'o' shape. 

Y/N smiled widely at his expression, happy to see that she was the reason why Grayson felt so euphoric at the moment. She could feel his cum inside her pulsating and warm walls and she could help but touch her clit, to reach her own high.

But Grayson's strong hands grabbed her own and it made her look up at him silently questioning him. "It's my job to make you cum." He simply stated with his masculine deep voice that made her heart and tights tremble. "I'm gonna eat the life out of you, got it?"

Y/N nodded her head, eyes wide with love and desire and her pussy throbbing for the promised orgasm. "Do that babe." She nodded her head again and leaned to kiss his lips. Grayson kissed her back and suddenly his fist caught around her hair and pulled her away from him. He forced his body to get up all while his dick was softening inside her pussy.

With a quick move he turned their bodies so he was hovering Y/N this time. They giggled like little teenagers and make out a bit as Grayson's fingers went from touching her tights to her aching pussy. She moaned inside his mouth and Grayson smirked proudly. "F..fuck babyyy."

His hands found her breasts, and his fingers coaxed her nipples to hard little nubs again, and they ached with every pinch.  Her clit began to throb, and she thrusting her hips with the arousal that was building again inside of her.

“What do you want, my love?” he asked.  She licked her lips and motioned downward with her eyes.

“Taste me,” I said. Grayson smiled and licked his lips and leaned forward. Her clit was so engorged it peeked out above the folds of her pussy, and he exhaled a hot breath on it and Y/N gasped at how good it felt.

And then his hot breath was replaced by his warm, wet tongue.  He swirled it in little circles down one side of her pussy and then up the other, never quite dipping it inside her but hard enough that the pressure of every swirl made its way right to her clit.

Y/N moaned as she ground her pussy against Grayson's mouth. She wanted to feel his soft, wet lips encircle her clit. She wanted him to suck it into his mouth while he flicked at it with the tip of his tongue. She wanted to feel the wetness of another orgasm drench his lips and chin this time instead of her panties or her fingers. 

She looked down and pleaded with her eyes for him to make her come. Grayson smiled and kept eye contact with his love, and then plunged his tongue inside her and lapped up her sweet juices and then slid his tongue up to flick at her clit. Y/N was riding on the edge of another orgasm, and he was making her ride it, making her squirm. Her legs tingled and twitched as he took her close and then backed her away.  He was teasing her now as she had teased him, and each tiny flick of his pointed tongue sent a blissful jolt of ecstasy inside her that gradually filled her to overflowing.

“Yes, baby,” Y/N said. Her voice was hoarse from gasping.  “Please play me, please make me come.”

"Ah, but we cannot have that yet, pumpkin,” he answered.  He stopped the wonderful tonguing he had been giving her and replaced his mouth with one of his long fingers.  He slid it inside her and Y/N clenched her pussy around it, and that made him smile.  He curled it upward and found her g-spot and she gasped.

Y/N threw her head back and moaned, and he lowered his mouth again to blow warm breaths against her pulsing clit.  First, it was one finger massaging that spot, then two. Her mind floated away as his fingers coaxed pleasure from her that she never had known. Her body quivered and she arched her back to feel the palm of his hand push against her clit.

Y/N lay back on the trunk and let her hands roam her body. Grayson licked her pussy from bottom to top, his tongue stopping to circle her swollen clit with every lick. She spread her legs wider to invite him in completely, to open herself to whatever new pleasure he wanted to give his girlfriend. She was at that place of beautiful torture, stuck between wanting the arousal to last forever and the wanting to feel her body release the pleasure he was storing in her, but knowing she couldn’t have both.

But he didn’t give her any choice as he pulled her clit inside his mouth and suckled on it. Y/N lost control as she felt wave after wave of pure bliss pulse up her legs and through her body. She thrust her pussy against Grayson's mouth with each suck on her clit. The sweet, sensual music of her orgasm filled the whole empty camp, echoing for sure.

Y/N looked down and their eyes met, and she could feel his lips form a smile against her pussy. Grayson lifted his head and she saw his lips and chin were wet with her juices, and she smiled back.

Grayson moved again towards her mouth and kissed her deeply, she could taste her own self and moaned. "That was so incredible. I love you Gray bear." She stated and pecked his lips again.

Grayson cleaned his chin with his hand and licked it clean before pecking again her lips. "I love you too baby girl. I just wanted to take all the tense that built inside you from all day." He replied and lay beside her already exhausted from their wild activities.

"Yeah that was a good idea." She nodded her head and stopped talking enjoying the silence as they reunited their hands together.

That was until a loud scream startled them. They both stood up and looked around the dark forest trying to understand from where the noise was coming. "What the hell was that?" Y/N asked as she grabbed her panties, she thankfully found fast, and got up.

Grayson followed her movements, doing the same. "I don't fucking know. It sounded like-"

"A blood killing scream." She finished for him.

"And it sounded like Ethan. I mean I know my twin's scream. Let's go look. Probably it is a snake and it bit him, right?" He turned to look at y/N and she raised her shoulders.

"Yeah… Probably." 

They both started walking, opening the flash from their phones, to the direction of the scream. It was not far away but it felt like it from the luck of light. 

Suddenly a smell hit them. It was unfamiliar at first but slowly it clicked. "Is that… blood that I smell?" Y/N asked and Grayson told her to stop talking with his finger on his mouth.

They stopped behind a tree. That was it. That was when Y/N lost it. She screamed extremely loud; and it was not that kind of a scream that you usually wanted to hear from a girl. Grayson turned to look at her, to see what's wrong, and when his eyes followed where she was looking he flipped too.

"What the fucking fuck?" He whispered shouted as he faced an ear. A human ear sticked to the wood of the tree. 

"An ear. It's a fucking ear Grayson."

"I can see that Y/N."

"And oh my God, is that Ethan's earring? Oh bloody hell, it's Ethan's ear. Grayson its Ethan's ear. Why is his ear right on the freaking tree?" She was yelling now.

Grayson's eyes met hers. "And why should i fucking know?"

"I swear to God, Grayson, if that is a fucking joke-"

"What do you mean?"

"It's halloween asshole, and if you just wanted to scare me, do something like a freaking trick or because I didn't want to come here to that fucking camp I swear to God I'm gonna chop off your dick." She threatened him.

"Y/N, calm down. I never planned something like. I never wanted to scare you. Just spend the Halloween night to a scary camp." Grayson replied clearly frightened, much like her.

"Then someone is clearly fucking with us. I mean it's probably Ethan because that ear here is just like the fucking story you were telling us earlier about this motherfucking camp." 

"Let's go and searched for them and let me tell you that Ethan would be dead by the time I will catch him in my hands." Grayson promised her as he grabbed with force her hand and made her walk close by his side.

But Grayson couldn't keep his promise. Why? Because Ethan was already dead. Everyone was. Ivy. Kyle. Beth.

They were all dead. With sliced throats, opened stomachs and one ear cut off. The scene was so disturbing and disgusting. 

Y/N walled to the side and threw up while Grayson was stuck there unable to move from the scene. This was a freaking joke. "What the? Ethan if you are messing with us, you won bro. I fucking peed my pants. Come on get up now." 

"I don't think that's a joke Gray." Y/N told him as she cleaned her mouth. "There's someone here, in this fucking graveyard of a camp with us who killed our friends just like the way it happened thirty five years ago."

"But who would have know we were here? And who the fuck would still being doing that? The killer is dead, there's no way that it was her."

"Maybe her kid did didn't or a lunatic that admired her work and wanted to do what she did." Y/N snapped. "We're gonna die here. We will be dead and I'm only twenty. We're too young to die Grayson."

Grayson walked closed to her and hugged her to his body. "No one is going to kill you. I will protect you because you're my life."

It was the last words Grayson said before a knife was forced into his body. Y/N screamed and watched as Grayson's body fell lifeless to the ground with a loud thumb. Her watered eyes looked up to the killer who wore a mask as they chopped of his ear with the dangling earring that she so loved at him.

Her heart was thumping fast, it could fly out of her body, and the tears were running fast down her cheeks. She fell to the ground next to her now dead boyfriend and shook him. She didn't care that the killer was next to her, she didn't care that she would be most definitely dead in couple seconds.

"Gray, Gray." She cried his name, believing that if she called out his name he would magically wake up. Or perhaps that it was a freaking joke and that he lied about it and that he was alive. "please, wake up."

"He's not coming back darling." the killer said, their voice unrecognizable behind the mask. "But don't worry. You will be joining him soon."

Everything went black in the blinking of the eye.

What an incredible and fantastic Halloween night. Right? Someone chose the trick for them and it was definitely spooky shaking.

[fuwafuwamedb]

Dodging Death Pt 15 (Proto Cu, Cu Chulainn, Rin, Ereshkigal)

Previously: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 , 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

___

She’d come to this world with one intention: find the king that was supposed to die and immediately take him to the underworld.

That was it. Ishtar had already made this whole process a thousand times more complicated than it needed to be. She was supposed to be looking for a human and would have had a much easier time if Ishtar hadn’t butted herself into the whole affair.

Then again, she’d asked for Ishtar to help her.

She’d thought that Ishtar would be tying him down or casting a castration spell or simply tripping him before complaining that her feet hurt so bad and no one loved her. She’d expected something much more Ishtar-oriented. Instead, what had the woman done?

She’d turned Gilgamesh into a cat.

A golden, puffy feline.

They’d had to run to one of the other gods to be able to trail after the king through his tear through time. That had taken enough of an effort that he had actual time and adjustment to this life and world. He could have been anywhere, anywhere at all and they would have to go hunting him down like a beast in the wild.

“I know what we can do,” Ishtar had told her.

She didn’t want to know what the plan was.

Thinking about it now, Ereshkigal couldn’t think of anything she wanted to know less about. Her sister was going to end up creating a mess of trouble in this time and it would be entirely up to her to fix it all. Their father would hound her about it. Her brother would roll his eyes and return to worshiping his wife. Their mother would wince.

The one upside to the whole thing was that she was in the underworld.

She was at least able to distract herself with her audit of those who had died. Small favors were still favors.

“Miss?”

Ereshkigal looked up, noting the same lookalike that Hakuno had pointed out before she’d left.

“Miss, we’re about twenty minutes to close. I wanted to let you know so that you could find a good stopping point and make sure to check out your books before you go.”

The books she’d found were actually rather cute. There were lots of precious pictures of families and their feline friends. She had no idea what they said, but the pictures were worth looking at. It was like someone had frozen the people of this world in a still image, preserved forever more like a painting. She’d tried scratching at one of the pages a bit earlier in time and found that the images weren’t even made of paints.

These people were fascinating.

“Thank you,” Ereshkigal told the woman.

Turning back to her book, Ereshkigal pressed her fingers lightly to a cat with similar patterns to that of Gilgamesh’s cat form.

After this was all said and done and the great and noble king of Uruk was in the underworld… maybe she would have to come back here. She could spend a few days in this time, learning how to read the strange script of this world and spending more time with that girl from before.

Hakuno was so full of life.

There had been no malice or hatred. She’d shared no ill will or ulterior motives. When she had spoken of a cat, the woman had immediately assumed she had wanted one and had described the beauty of the beasts. It was thanks to her that she could see these beautiful images.

Her eyes strayed to the card that the woman had given her with a contacting method.

Her eyes drifted to the woman at the counter.

First things first, she needed an answer.

Ereshkigal stood up and hurried over to the counter.

“Are you ready to check out?”

“Umm. No,” the language of these people were a bit difficult. She’d used magic to learn, but it was still a challenge. She set the card on the desk. “Can you… Can you tell me how to use this?”

The woman, Rin, looked down at the card before laughing a little.

The woman brushed her hair back.

“This is a phone number. You’d use it on a phone. You must have been getting along really well for Hakuno to give you her number. She just got recently engaged.”

“I-I just came here from far away… Hakuno said she would be my friend.”

It felt so strange to say it to this woman. It was like confessing to her sister.

Rin raised a brow and smiled.

“You must have been getting along really well for Hakuno to give you her number,” she said again. “And your accent is really cute. You must be from somewhere near where Hakuno’s fiancée is from. You just take this card and go to type in the digits.” She pulled out a device and pressed the buttons, the woman’s name showing on the phone. “Click the green button and it will start dialing.”

“A phone…”

Rin frowned a little. “…Do you not have one?”

She expected a laugh.

Ishtar was always laughing and causing trouble like that. She would get the haughty, hip swaying retort a moment before one of them would get pissed off at the other making a comment. They’d begin fighting and there’d be another series of destroyed buildings for the rest of the gods to clean up.

“Miss,” Rin was still frowning. “Do you… Do you have somewhere to stay in town?”

“I’ve been wandering in the streets.”

“The streets?!”

“My sister um… she kind of abandoned me.”

Rin moved around the counter, her face in a mixture of anger and something else. She barely had time to flinch before she felt the other’s arms around her. She was pressed against the other’s chest, held tightly to the woman.

“Miss Rin?”

“Good god, no wonder Hakuno gave you her number. I can’t believe that. Do you know how dangerous it is right now? There’s an axe murderer out there right now!”

“I’ll be okay-“

“NO! No.” Rin pulled back, holding her shoulders. “I can’t allow it. If you can’t stay with me, let me at least get you a hotel room for a night. Or I have a couple friends that would be able to hole you up for the evening. My um… I have a guy that I sometimes spend time with for the sake of personal amusement that would be able to take you in… if you were okay with it. His roommate is a great cook.”

“I don’t know them though…”

“Or you could stay over with me? Or your own hotel room.  I don’t need to know the room number or anything!”

She was still being hugged.

This had to be the strangest day she’d ever had in her entire life. She was being hugged by someone that looked exactly like Ishtar, all the way to the voice. The only difference were those eyes. The deep blue eyes were so soothing.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” Ereshkigal tried.

“You’re coming home with me,” Rin told her simply.

A voice drew their conversation to a stop. Rin’s head turned immediately before Ereshkigal found herself yanked over to the blue haired man nearby.

“Cu!” Rin smirked, “this is my temporary roommate.”

“My name is Ereshkigal,” Ereshkigal found herself saying.

“Right!” Rin smiled, hugging her again. The hugs were becoming addictive. “Eresh doesn’t have anywhere to stay and has been living on the streets!”

“Geez, are you tryin’ to die?” Cu stared at her in horror. “You got bags somewhere we gotta grab?”

“Bags?”

“Your things,” Rin explained. “That’s a good point, Cu.”

“I don’t have things.”

The two stared at her before Rin moved to Cu.

“I’m sorry! I just- I don’t really need things and my sister had what we brought,” she tried to explain.

“Your sister is going to get her ass beaten by me,” Rin snarled. “The first thing I will do when I see her is give her a good smack to the face.”

Cu was practically glowing at her words.

“Anyway,” Rin huffed. “Since you have nothing, I can’t stand for this. Eresh, you can borrow something of mine. I might be a bit small in size for you, but I think I have something.”

“I appreciate it.”

She didn’t know what else to say on the matter, but that was alright. The two began to talk and Ereshkigal found herself waiting with Cu as Rin went about closing the library. There was a little man that came out from the back to grumble and complain about Hakuno before leaving. There was a tall woman that looked like she would have been one of the more foreboding spirits in the depths of Kur. She followed the little man out.

Rin led them to the doors and locked up, testing the doors and waving to the strange little device near the doors.

“Hakuno out today?” Cu asked.

“No, we had her leave early.” Rin shook her head as they headed to a strange metal wagon nearby. Ereshkigal found herself ushered into the back before the two climbed into the front seats.

“How come?”

“Hakuno, in her great brilliance, brought her boyfriend to work with her. Hans got a bit hot under the collar. Kiara started making some little comments here and there. I decided I could use the extra hours.”

“Did they do something?”

“Hans says they didn’t,” Rin told them. Her eyes flickered between the two of them before her smirk became bigger. “Kiara swears up and down that she saw the two of them having a moment by the magazines. She made it sound like Hakuno was doing… less than appropriate behavior.”

That sounded more like Ishtar.

It was so weird to sit here, listening. Cu would keep the conversation going, earning more and more Ishtar-like gossip by the woman. The smug smile was so familiar that she had the need to almost ask Ishtar what she was doing here.

She was too similar.

“Welcome home!” Rin told her, the wagon coming to a stop near a quiet building.

“This is your home?”

“Our home,” Rin corrected. “At least until you can get on your feet again.”

“I’ll stay here with you both just to look after you.” The man grinned a bit, “Rin’s a good egg, but she is a terrible snorer.”

“Excuse me?”

“Terrible,” Cu went on. “You’ll see her pass out when watching TV with you and you just hear this sound. It’s like a loud foghorn, escaping straight from that mou-“

Rin smacked his arm, storming out of the car.

“She’s a great woman,” Cu told her. “I’m just here because Rin’s been having a few nightmares and you stayin’ gives me a good reason to both stop the nightmares and keep ya both safe.”

Ereshkigal simply nodded.

“Come on,” Cu nodded towards the doors, leaving her to climb out and follow him into the house.

The two led her to a room. Rin gave her a nightgown, beaming proudly at seeing her get excited. The nightgown was cute. Even better, it matched another that Rin had changed into.

They settled onto a large cushioned bench together, Rin and her both cuddled up next to Cu. Cu turned on the large portrait somehow, illuminating it with a great deal of light before he found-

“You mind?” Cu glanced over at her. “Rin likes mysteries and this is supposed to be funny.”

“It’s a play?”

“A movie,” Rin told her, like that explained everything.

Something buzzed a moment before Cu was feeling his pockets. He pulled out one of those phones, his name showing a moment before Cu held the phone to his ear.

“Ah, so you finished work?” Cu laughed at a small voice coming from the phone. “I’m over with Rin and our friend Ereshkigal.”

The sounds began again, but stopped a second before Cu spoke again.

“Ah… hold on.” Cu pressed his phone to his chest. “Rin? You mind if Proto comes?”

“Junior? Sure… but, don’t let him get up to too much trouble. If he does anything-“

“I’ll keep him on a leash,” Cu promised, brushing the woman’s hair.

He spoke on his phone a moment longer before they settled in. The two of them began to wait, with Rin going to the door and turning on the light. It didn’t take a great deal of time before there was another Cu looking guy there. He was younger, he had shorter hair, but he seemed nice enough.

“Oh… Hi.”

Ereshkigal smiled to the man. “Hi.”

“…Hi.”

Ereshkigal glanced over at the other two, finding Cu smacking the boy upside the head.

“Eyes on the TV, Junior,” Cu growled.

They settled back down to watch the strange movie, which, as it happened, was a strange and beautiful play. They paused it about halfway, with the main actress sobbing over an old man that she had given bad medicine to.

“I have to use the restroom,” Rin told them, pressing the pause button and hurrying towards the other room.

“I’ll be right back,” Cu told them, heading into the room with cooking things in it.

Proto looked around.

“I feel so bad for the apsu,” Ereshkigal breathed, looking at the frozen faces of the actors. “She loved the man. You can see it in her eyes.”

Humans were so astounding.

She could feel all that pain, all that terror and horror in her eyes was stalled. The wrinkles on her forehead were so prominent.

“I don’t think this is the truth,” Proto murmured.

“What? But she can’t lie,” Ereshkigal pointed out.

“Oh, no. She can, but she gets sick. She’s also a nurse,” Proto pointed out. “I bet you she’s taken something for it.”

“Do you think so?”

“We can look it up,” Proto offered, pulling out his phone. “It’ll take me maybe a minute to find out the plot to this movie.”

“…You can phone someone?”

“Ah, no, I was going to use the internet.”

“The internet?”

Proto began to laugh, “You sound like Gil when I first showed him how to use his tablet. Come here, I’ll show ya.”

Ereshkigal stared at the phone, her eyes widening.

The phone was a universe in a rectangle. The man looked up the actors of the play. He looked up a video of a cat when she mentioned cats. He showed her a video of someone falling off a wagon and into a lake, which he laughed about for several minutes.

She leaned against his arm, watching in fascination.

“You can look up anything with this?”

“Anything at all. I can buy things with this.”

“That’s amazing.”

Proto glanced over at her, his smile growing.

“…What?”

“Nothin’. It’s just been a really long time since I’ve had a girl tell me that somethin’ I’m doing is amazing.”

“You are amazing! I never would have guessed that a phone could do so much.”

The man’s face turned pink, making her lean in closer.

“…are you okay?”

“You’re name’s Eresh, right?”

She opened her mouth to point out that it was actually Ereshkigal, but… No one was here to really point that out except her. Ishtar had run off with the king’s axe in hand. Rin and Cu were already calling her their friend and was giving her nice things and a room. She had… friends.

The thought made her vision swim.

“Whoa, whoa!” Proto moved immediately, facing her more. “I didn’t mean to upset ya. Is it an insult or something-“

“M-My name is Eresh.” Ereshkigal smiled a bit, shaking her head. “It’s just… It’s really nice to be around people that are kind.”

“Ah, shit.” Proto shook his head, She felt his arms wrap around her tightly, pressing her against his chest.

“CU! YOUR BROTHER-“

“OI! LAY OFF RIN!” Proto yelled over at her. “ERESH WAS CRYING BECAUSE SHE’S HAPPY TO HAVE FRIENDS! LET ME GIVE A DAMN HUG!”

She felt another hug against her. Rin was wrapping her arms around her tight, tugging her away from a squawking Proto and against her shoulder instead.

“I’ve got you,” Rin murmured. “You’re going to be my sister and friend, alright? Remember I’m friend number one.”

Rin was amazing.

Hakuno had been so right.

She had been on the roads of this city for so long, hunting for that damn king that wouldn’t let himself die. She had been so cold and so tired. Her sister was doing something stupid no doubt. There was never anyone to talk to and, when there was, she was always at the short end of the whole thing.

Hakuno had let her have three friends.

She had Cu. She had Proto. Most importantly, she had Rin.

“D-do you want to watch the rest of the movie?” she asked her first and best friend and sister, Rin.

“Well,” Rin grinned, “we can, but I think we should make Proto and Cu break out the wine. If we’re going to cry, we’re going to cry because of wine.”

The next time she saw Hakuno, Ereshkigal decided, she was going to make sure that woman knew that she would give any favor, anything at all, to her.

Proto held her tightly after the wine was poured and the movie was resumed.

Rin cuddled against Cu, holding her hand as the film continued.

This was the best night of her life.

[cryptidkieren]

come around (5/6)

im back guys!!  🎉🎉

dogsitting a puppy while 3 dogs are already in the house is a STRUGGLE, let me tell you

here’s the ao3 link for those who prefer that!

-----

Crowley and Aziraphale didn’t talk about what happened at Solstice.

The week following passed normally, though, with both of them basically joined at the hip. New Year’s Eve found the two otherworldly beings once again in Aziraphale’s flat. Twin flutes of champagne clinked as the newscaster on the telly counted down to midnight along with the rest of London. Fireworks exploded in the sky, the Thames far enough away that the eruption of cheers wasn’t deafening.

Aziraphale wished he was brave enough to set their glasses on the coffee table, take Crowley’s face in his hands, and steal a kiss from the demon that he had loved for millennia. He wished he was brave enough to talk about his feelings, openly and genuinely, without the fear of being rejected. He wished he knew Crowley returned his feelings, that the demon loved him just as fiercely.

He wasn’t brave, though. At least, not brave enough to do as he wished.

Instead, the angel laced his fingers with Crowley’s free hand. He smiled at the demon’s surprised look, his eyes uncovered for once. The fireworks booming outside the window lit the sky with a kaleidoscope of color, bathing the room with light and haloing around Crowley’s copper hair.

It always hit Aziraphale at the most inopportune times, just how much he loved Crowley.

The words were on the tip of his tongue, begging to come out. The angel choked them back with a shaky breath. Rather, he raised their entwined hands and kissed the demon’s knuckles softly.

“Happy New Year, Crowley.”

Crowley was frozen where he sat, his surprised look shifting into one of astonishment before mellowing out into something softer, almost like fondness but… Different. Warmer.

“Happy New Year, angel.”

-----

Winter had eventually melted into spring, helped along by the dreary rain that London was known for. Aziraphale stood at the front window of the shop, the tea on the small table next to him long gone cold, as Crowley made a nuisance of himself. A record the demon had put on played softly from the gramophone on the counter.

“I think we should get out of here,” Aziraphale spit out suddenly, spinning to stare apprehensively at Crowley. The demon looked up, the paper tower he had constructed out of the angel’s record-keeping index cards collapsing immediately.

“Okay,” he drawled, an eyebrow raising in question as he stood up from his previously hunched position over the cards. “Where would you like to go, angel? I’m sure the Ritz can squeeze us in, since a table for two just opened up.”

Aziraphale only made a sort of frantic noise through his nose. His hands fluttered uselessly by his sides, clenching and unclenching with anxiety. “No- I-”

“Hey, alright, calm down, Aziraphale,” Crowley quickly rounded the counter to stand in front of the angel. He gripped his arms firmly, golden eyes glinting in concern over dark glasses. “What’s wrong?”

The angel sighed noisily, steeling himself to force the words out. “I think,” he choked out, his voice rough. He cleared his throat before continuing. “We should leave. London, that is.”

Crowley’s brows raised to his hairline, blinking at him over his lowered glasses. “What?”

“Oh, you heard me, Crowley! Don’t make me say it again!”

“Yes, I heard you, angel, but I’m not processing it!” The demon pushed his sunglasses up to rest on his forehead, releasing the angel and completely uncovering his bewildered eyes. “You love London, your bookshop is here, why would you want to leave?”

Aziraphale fiddled with his pocket watch, intent on not meeting Crowley’s gaze. A quick glance at the demon, though, only revealed questioning amber eyes.

“Well, it’s dangerous to live here right now, Crowley,” the angel began haltingly, eyes firmly planted on Crowley’s leather shoes. They were quite nice, though he imagined the demon had just wished them into existence instead of buying them at a shop. “Heaven and Hell know exactly where we are, because we haven’t done anything different in so long. They could come at any time, be that tomorrow or ten years from now! I-I don’t want them to hurt you again.” Aziraphale finally raised his head to smile at the demon, trying not to let this flash of bravery fizzle out too quickly. “I also recall asking you to run away with me during the Winter Solstice.”

It was silent a moment, every second making the angel’s anxiety grow, before Crowley snorted.

Aziraphale’s smile dropped, nonplussed at the demon’s amusement. His shoes really were quite fascinating, a second look wouldn’t hurt. “That’s really not necessary, Crowley. A simple ‘no’ would’ve-”

“No!” Crowley wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye. “No, angel, I very much do.”

The angel blinked. The swirl of rejection and hurt that had started to form in his heart dissipated as he met the demon’s eyes. “You do? Really?”

Crowley, his lips still twitching with amusement, shook his head at the angel’s confused expression. “Of course I do, Aziraphale. I’d go anywhere with you.”

Aziraphale felt like he was both sinking and flying at the same time, his entire being floating as his heart clenched painfully.

“The fact you thought otherwise is hurtful and, frankly, unbecoming of you,” the demon continued after a moment, dramatically placed a hand over his ‘wounded’ heart, his face a picture of over-the-top sorrow. Aziraphale grinned at his antics, his relief almost palpable.

“Well- good!” The angel sniffed, trying to hold back his smile. “It would be a pity if you had disagreed, after all. You would be missing out on some superb tea making skills.”

“I rather think I would be missing out on a lot more than that, angel.”

Aziraphale felt his cheeks heat as met Crowley’s eyes, the demon’s own expression so soft that it sent the angel’s heart into double time. He bustled off to the tea service he had set out earlier, already talking a mile a minute in an effort to hide how flustered he was.

‘He’s going to be the end of me,’ thought Aziraphale as he watched Crowley jump up to sit on the front counter, index cards fluttering into a semi-neat pile as the demon tried to convince him that a castle would be perfect instead of some lowly house. The angel could only smile into his fresh tea, the pot steaming again with only a thought, and jump into the playful debate. ‘Not a bad way to go, though, is it?’

-----

It didn’t take them long to find what they were looking for. Well, not long after Aziraphale started dropping hints with newspaper clippings of houses placed where the demon was likely to find them. Hung on the front door of the shop, taped to the windshield of the Bentley, even on the demon’s pillow in his flat. It took a pile being dropped on his face while napping on the tattered couch in the back room for Crowley to get fed up and drag the angel out to look at properties.

The cottage they had decided to look at first was beautiful. The stone walls were covered in climbing ivy and a plethora of other blooming fauna surrounding the perimeter, making it resemble something out of a fairy tale. It stood on a cliff, a sheer drop only a few dozen feet from the edge of the property’s fence that opened up to the expanse of the churning ocean around them. The sea air was brisk, but rejuvenating to Aziraphalel. It was so different to London, so new.

(Well, not new, exactly. He had lived by the Roman coast during his visit in 41 AD, if only briefly. But that was neither here nor there!)

After a moment, though, the angel started to notice little things about the cottage. It had the air of being abandoned for a long while. The front garden was overgrown, wild and forest like. The stacked stone wall that surrounded the property was covered in moss and falling apart, entire sections laying defeated on the ground. The wrought iron gate was almost completely rusted over and barely hanging on by a hinge. And that wasn’t even touching on what the situation inside might have in store for them.

“This place, angel?” Crowley turned to him, his disdain evident despite the ever present sunglasses. “It’s a dump!”

“It has… Character!” Aziraphale blustered. “Really, my dear, just give it a chance!”

The demon only groaned theaterically, drawing the attention of the real estate agent standing by the worn front door. The woman smiled genially at them as the two of them approached.

“Gentlemen!” She shook their hands in turn, her grin deepening the small wrinkles by her eyes. “I’m Danielle Rochette, the realtor for this property, but you can just call me Ellie. You must be Mr. Fell and Mr. Crowley!”

Aziraphale returned her enthusiastic handshake, already liking this human. “Yes, I’m Ezra Fell and this is-”

“Anthony Crowley,” the demon cut in smoothly. His smirk disappeared for a moment as he kissed the back of the woman’s hand, causing her to let out a dreamy little “Oh!”

Crowley yelped his own “Oh!” when Aziraphale viciously pinched the back of his arm once he released the poor woman, the angel’s polite smile still in place. Crowley could only grumble and rub the attacked spot as the other two chatted idly.

They soon entered the cottage, the air a bit stale and dusty. Aziraphale had to hold in a sneeze when the door swung shut behind them. They had entered into what was probably the living room, which then led directly into the outdated kitchen at the back of the house. A hallway to the left of the front door held three doors along the same wall and was equally covered in cobwebs. The sparse furniture left behind by the previous tenant was either worn down or broken into pieces on the floor.

It was dreary and in desperate need of a good cleaning, and Aziraphale loved it.

“Listen, I know it looks bad right now,” cautioned Ellie, her nose wrinkling a bit. “But I think it would be back in tip top shape with a bit of paint, a mop, and some new furniture!”

“Oh, that would be no problem,” Aziraphale smiled, winking at Crowley with absolutely no subtlety. The demon snorted inelegantly as the realtor looked between them with a confused smile. She cleared her throat a moment later, launching into her pitch for the house. The angel nodded along, making affirming noises at the right places, but his mind was as far as it could be from the conversation.

The cottage really was what they were looking for. Aziraphale could easily picture how the place would look if they moved in; how the floorboards would gleam when they were cleaned, the fireplace cleaned out and a log crackling happily away inside, cozy blankets and throw pillows piled on the new sofa. The both of them cooking together in the remodeled kitchen, Aziraphale sneaking tastes of whatever was on the stove while Crowley halfheartedly threatened him with a wooden spoon, soft music from the gramophone enveloping them with the sense of home.

A hand on his startled Aziraphale out of his fantasy. He blinked, seeing the cottage as it actually was again. An ache started up in the region of his unneeded heart at the loss of his daydream, as sweet as it was.

Crowley had moved closer when he wasn’t paying attention, the demon’s hand slightly cooler where it was wrapped around his own. “You alright, Aziraphale?”

“Of course, darling,” the angel sighed, patting Crowley’s hand lightly before pulling away with a wistful smile. “Absolutely tickety-boo.”

The demon only raised an eyebrow at him before turning back to Ellie. The realtor had moved on to the kitchen, still going on about various facts about the property without noticing their little aside. They moved to the hallway at the front of the house soon after, disturbing the dust as they went.

The hall itself was dim, making it feel smaller than it actually was. Granted, the two windows were covered with the climbing ivy on the front of the house, allowing in barely any light.

“Now,” Ellie stopped at the last door in the hall, grinning cheekily. “We’re going to leave the best for last, so stay with me, yeah?”

When the two of them bewilderedly nodded assent, she led them into what could only be the bedroom. The same dark flooring was continued in there, making the chipping plaster walls seem brighter with the sun shining through the large windows. It was of a decent size, obviously remodeled at some point in its history.

“This is the master suit, since this a one bedroom property, but I think it’s perfectly fine for two gents such as yourselves.” Ellie stood by the door with a smile, allowing them to take their fill of the room.

Her words caught up with Aziraphale a moment later, setting his face aflame. He hadn’t even thought of the sleeping situation, since he rarely partook in the activity. He also hadn’t thought how it would look for two men to be buying a one bedroom house together.

As he tried to nervously correct her, though, Crowley only sidled up next to him and wrap an arm around his waist. It was very effective in stopping his witless stammering, at the very least.

“Well, I think it’s perfect for what we’re going for. Don’t you, angel?” The demon’s smile was positively saccharine, his voice like candied honey. The thread of teasing amusement was hard to miss, too.

“I-I mean- Well, yes, of course-”

Ellie had a hand covering her mouth in an attempt to hide her smile, though her laughter was a bit harder to conceal. She led them out of the room, Aziraphale’s face still dreadfully warm. Crowley had released him, thankfully, as they came up to the next door in the hall.

This one opened into a terribly outdated bathroom. Salmon colored tiles covered the walls, while aquamarine tiles of a different size made up the floor. It made the small room feel even more confined. Even the angel couldn’t stop himself from grimacing as he looked in horror. The only saving grace (no pun intended) was the large white clawfoot tub that dominated the space.

“There’s no windows,” commented Crowley, his eyebrows making a break for his hairline as he looked over Aziraphale’s shoulder in disgusted awe.

Ellie, on the other hand, only grinned mischievously at them. “That’s where the best is saved for last.” She ushered them back into the hall before gesturing to the door nearest the entrance to the hall. “I know you were looking for an office to store your books, Mr. Fell. I think you’ll rather fancy this room.”

The two otherworldly beings glanced at each other, equally perplexed, before the angel turned the knob. For a few moments, he could only stare in wonder.

The room opened into a short hall spanning the length of the bathroom, floor to ceiling shelves running along the right wall. It opened up to a fairly large room, about half the size of the bedroom, with the other two walls covered in the same shelves.

The back wall, however, was almost entirely comprised of glass. A set of glass double doors at the center led out into a sunroom at the back of the house, very reminiscent of a greenhouse. The view was facing the back garden, which was closed off with more of the collapsing rock wall. After that was the cliff behind the property, with the rolling ocean right beyond it all the way to the horizon. It was breathtaking.

“Oh my,” breathed the angel, utterly overcome with emotion as he looked around at all the empty shelves. The windows let in an enormous amount of light, making the room feel open and airy and perfect.

“The current owners put that in around seven years ago,” Ellie said brightly. She opened up the glass doors to allow them into the sunroom. “Trying to make it more interesting, I reckon.”

Crowley gently led him through the sunroom and out to the back garden. The salty air hit him with the force of a blow, effectively breaking the trance the office had placed on him. The sun had finally broken free from the cloud cover, warming the small group as they stood in the overgrown grass. Aziraphale, still amazed by the view, felt something brush his hand softly. Without even thinking about it, the angel wrapped his hand around Crowley’s, trying to ignore how his heartbeat kicked up a notch at the simple touch.

“I’m going to be frank with you, if I may,” Ellie started slowly, her red painted mouth turned down. The wind whipped her chestnut hair around her face, pulling it from its previously tidy bun. “The previous owner died some time ago. Her husband had passed years before her, so she was alone when she finally followed him. Their sons live in the city and want nothing to do with the property, hence why it’s in such disrepair. I’ve been the agent for this place since I started selling real estate, probably some 10 years ago now, though no one has been keen to fix this place up like it should be.”

Aziraphale hummed. A glance at Crowley emboldened him when the demon smirked and shrugged fluidly, the creaking of his leather jacket almost lost in the wind. “Well, I think we’re very keen. Cleaning this place up shouldn’t take too much time, and our godson and his friends would love to play at the beach during the summers.” The angel smiled brightly at the woman, who mirrored his grin.

“Fantastic! Let’s see to some paperwork, shall we?”

-----

[beginning] // [previous chapter] // [next chapter]

[dragongirl642]

Breakdown x reader x Wheeljack - Wheeljack ending

Another week of school had passed. The bots going off to investigate Decepticon sightings, scouting for energon, the usual. Except it wasn't just the usual. The kids had ended up on the Decepticon warship, the Nemesis. I'd been out of town for 2 weeks. I'd taken a risk and driven to New York to gather some Intel off an old friend, visit a few acquaintances, clean up some loose ends, that kind of thing.

It had been several weeks since Wheeljack visited and I had formed an unlikely friendship with Ratchet; like Raf. We were both useful when it came to tech and in return, I had asked Ratchet for help with my car. He'd begrudgingly given it; after some very complex flattery.

The gory video game I was playing provided a nice, mind-numbing distraction from the buzzing and hot flashes of heat that kept travelling up and down my spine. Shorts and a fandom t-shirt completing the bored gamer look.

'I know something bad is going to happen...but what?'

Most of the Autobots were out hunting down the Iacon relics, at the locations they'd snatched off of the Decepticon database. 'I'm away for one week and they get into trouble...on the NEMESIS no less.'

In retrospect...I'm not angry, just annoyed that I missed all the fun.

Feeling hungry, I quit the game and stood up; not forgetting to pick up my guitar case. Jack threw me a questioning look and I waved my phone at him. "I'm gonna go have lunch...call or text if you need me."

He nodded and I turned to stroll along to my trailer. Walking leisurely down the halls, I tried to block out the buzzing. Muttering to myself the whole way to my trailer. "I know something bad is gonna happen, why won't this infernal buzzing stop...and now I'm really hungry............HOLY GUACAMOLE I've got (FAVOURITE FOOD) back at the trailer!"

I broke into a light jog; the promise of food spurring me on.

--------------------------------------Time skip------------------------------------------

I'd eaten lunch and washed up. I finished my cup of (hot beverage) and quickly washed and dried it, putting it back in the little cupboard. The joins in my shoulders and back popped as I stretched. 'Oh...that felt good.' I was just about to reach for my phone on the counter when a painful, searing hot flash ran down my spine; I froze and curled inwards. A small, pained grunt escaping clenched teeth. My phone screen lit up; the call ringtone loud in the silence of the trailer.

The pain passed as quickly as it came. I stood and fled the trailer; intending to sprint back to the main room. Phone and guitar case, abandoned back in the trailer.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

The pounding of my feet on the floor mirroring the pounding of my heart. Flashes of heat continually travelling up and down my spine. 'It's bad, it's bad, it's very bad.' My internal mantra doing nothing to improve my mood.

The sight that greeted me in the main room was not a good one. Bulkhead looked...well, not good. I heard snatches of conversation about something called tox-en. What alarmed me even more then the horrifying state of Bulkhead was Wheeljack swearing revenge and leaving...followed by Miko.

I studied Bulkhead quickly to try and tell myself he'll live, before running to my car. 'Wheeljack and Miko went for his ship...I can catch them. That idiot wrecker is going to get Miko killed!'

I opened the front door and practically dove into the driver's seat. Engine started and gunning the engine before I'd even closed the door. Driving one-handed, while doing up my seatbelt, 'safety first'; I sped out of base.

Sunlight bounced off my wing mirrors and I shielded my eyes as I searched the skies. They narrowed when they spotted the low flying shape of Wheeljack's ship, gaining altitude as it went. I shifted into turbo and sped after them.

---------------------------Time skip----------------------------

The ship had disappeared over a rocky range. From the angle it had briefly halted at, I knew it had landed just beyond the rocks. I craned over the steering wheel trying to glimpse a path...road...something!...I could use to drive to the other side. I finally spotted a promising gap between two walls of rock, just wide enough for my car and leading into a canyon of sorts. The sudden boom of an explosion and the huge fire ball cloud that emerged over the tops of the rocks only urging me on faster. I almost reached the gap when I saw the darting shape of Wheeljack's ship fly up away from the cloud, then back down to land.

'What are they doing?'

I slowed quickly to carefully inch through the gap, before shooting forward again. The twists in the canyon providing lots of tight corners; meaning I had to slow down quite frequently to avoid skidding into the wall.

'Getting stranded out here is not something I want to do!'

A shadow passed overhead and I finally saw a straight stretch; the end opening up to the right. I frowned and hit turbo. Shooting forward and skidding around the corner in an impressive manoeuvre, pulling a 360 before driving past Wheeljack's parked ship to see the mech fighting an Insecticon.

'Time to try out those upgrades.'

I pulled a lever on top of the dashboard and grabbed the rising joystick. Thumb hovering over the button on top as the sound of metallic scraping. The sides of my car opened to reveal two revolving energon machine guns. A see-through HUD appearing on the windscreen. I drove for the fight, angling to get the Insecticon within my targeting sights. Wheeljack, noticing me, leapt backwards out of the Insecticon's vicinity. Just as I opened fire.

Zhi-Zhi-Zhi-Zhi.

The combo guns, utilising both energon rounds and laser bolts, fired off a revolving stream of doom at the insecticon. Denting armour and scorching protoform. It screeched and launched its own attack at me. My eyes widened as it jumped up, wings unfurling and charged at me form above. Above the range of my weapons. I turned the wheel and yanked the handbrake. Sending me into a skid to the side. We narrowly missed a head-on collision, the screech as it scraped along the hood of the challenger grating on my ears; I winced.

A thrill of exhilaration and fear ran through me as the wheel suddenly lost all resistance and the car entered into an uncontrollable spin.

"Whe-eljack-an-any-help-h-he-ere!"

My voice wobbled along with the juddering of my car, as I tried to call for some form of backup. The form of the insecticon advancing on me, entering my vision for brief moments as I spun; turning into a sickening kaleidoscope of colour when Wheeljack tackled the Insecticon. My car finally slowing to a stop, I had a wonderful view of the two fighting once more.

I blinked rapidly, trying to stop the spinning. Once my vision settled, I almost jumped when Wheeljack landed next to my car. Eyes narrowed, I faced forward and gunned the engine. Firing once again and bearing down on the Insecticon. It looked ready to leap into the air again. I punched the turbo button and my head slammed into the headrest and as I sped forward rapidly. Smashing into the Insecticon, which was flipped up and over the car. Wheeljack's ship was ahead of me; seeing Miko waving from the window I drove round it, narrowly missing the rocket that sped past my speeding car, and up the lowering ramp to enter the ship.

I parked the car in an empty space behind one of the pilot seats, activating the new magnetised wheel option and got out.

The interior is lit up by the sunlight streaming through the huge windscreen. I run and begin to clamber up one of the giant seats; eventually making it up to the cybertronian dash.

Symbols light up and scroll along one window rapidly. I watch mesmerised for a moment before turning my attention to the fight. Parts of the Insecticon are scattered across the ground, energon pooled about them; a pile of rubble near the cliff-face paints a clear picture as to its fate.

I frown and look for Wheeljack, before hasty pedesteps signal his arrival in the cockpit; just as a swarm of Insecticons fly over the top of the cliff.

I grab onto a ridge on the dash with one hand, the other grabbing the back of Miko's top as she stumbled.

"Floor it!"

We zoomed into the air. Wheeljack guiding the Jackhammer this way and that, in an attempt to dodge the bolts fired by the Insecticons. Miko yelled something at Wheeljack and he looked over his shoulderplate...at the box of grenades behind him. He smirked.

'If we weren't about to die...'

I shook my head slightly to get rid of any forming...distractions. 'Geez (y/n) you only previously met the guy once.'

Miko escaped my clutches and leapt into the co-pilot's chair. It was a good move so I made to follow. Unfortunately, as Wheeljack enacted his plan, a violent jolt sent me flying. I tucked as I fell; landing hard, but the impact was lessened by the roll entered into. Coming to a stop when my hand grabbed the edge of Wheeljack's pede. The grenades went off, destroying the swarm and creating an explosive energon cloud; wisps entered the Jackhammer, one such wisp flowed over the open skin on my neck and legs. I hissed in pain. I don't know how Wheeljack heard me over the explosion, but he quickly swooped down to pick me up and headed back to the pilot seat. Cupped within his servo I was held to his chassis as he settled into the pilot seat; pressing a symbol to close the bay door and disengaging the autopilot. I shifted, trying to twist to look at my wounds. Hissing softly when my neck burned. The skin was bubbling, angry red welts growing as I watched; strips of skin had begun to peel. Small light blue streaks fading as the skin split and blood welled to the surface. 'Perfect.'

Wheeljack sent a cautious glance at me before stretching out his servo and carefully depositing me next to Miko on the other seat.

I settled next to Miko and glared at the girl. "What were you thinking?" My voice remained level as I stared at the girl. Horror evident on her face, both at my burns and the calm tone of my voice.

She recovers herself and launches into a speech to defend herself. "I was helping get revenge for what that con did to Bulkhead! Wheeljack was here and you saw what I did!...I helped!"

"WHAT DID IT DO!" She froze at my outburst. I continued, forcing my voice to remain calm. "You went looking for revenge. Do you feel better now? Or do you just feel that empty hole inside? It will never be filled, it'll grow and fester until it consumes you. But only if...you" I poked her chest, "Let", and again, "It!" and one more poke for luck.

I threw a glance at the mech beside us. "And YOU had no right to bring Miko along!"

Wheeljack looks over. "Leave the kid alone...she did great. She's an honorary wrecker now! Best of the best."

I slumped, energy sapped by my outburst. "Hmph...bloody dead is what she should be." I mumbled.

Silence descended on the cockpit. I closed my eyes. 'I'll just rest until we get back.'

------------------------Time skip-----------------------

I lay on the small medical gurney, Situated in plain view of Bulkhead's. Bandages covered my burns and I fought the urge to itch under them. 'The cream Mrs Darby gave me really itches, maybe I'm allergic...oh well, too late to take it off.' I'd refused going to hospital, I didn't have proper ID and I did not want to set off any flags in the system.

I wearily raised my head, when a small hand gingerly touched my arm. Miko stood there looking at me sorrowfully, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

'Oh sh*t...I was too harsh wasn't I.'

I was about to speak before Miko cut me off. "I know, you were right and I'm sorry...it doesn't help."

She moved to leave but I grabbed her hand. "Look...I'm sorry too Miko, I was too harsh on you. You're young and can learn from your mistakes. I guess I just forgot..." I sighed, "Bulkhead would want you to be careful, I was angry cuz I care, and I know he would be too. You are just as important Miko. Bulkhead will recover, have faith."

My last words sounded wooden and rehearsed to me; but Miko perked up slightly, new hope just glimmering in her eyes. She wiped away her tears before gingerly hugging me and walking away.

I laid back and stared at the ceiling. Thinking about this strange alien war...how similar it was to others I had known, the secrecy, the vendettas, and also how different it was.

Schik.

The small sound drew my attention. I turned to see Wheeljack shift minutely; watching me. I groaned, "If you're gonna berate me go ahead."

Wheeljack rubbed the back of his helm with a servo. "I just wanted to say...you would have made a heck of a wrecker too. But you were pretty harsh."

I nodded, "Yes...I was just worried for you both."

Wheeljack did a double take. "Us both?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes both of you."

He stared at me, optics widening slightly; before they narrowed in suspicion. "I get the kid but...why would you care about me?"

I tried to shrug but gave up, wincing at the pain. "I honestly don't know."

He studies me intently for a moment before leaving. I slump back onto the gurney. 'Why did Jack's mum say I have to stay still...ugh.'

Third Person pov:

Ratchet watched Wheeljack walk away with a frown on his faceplate. A scan of his vitals revealed several inconsistencies. Elevated Sparkbeat and unusually high processor activity, well for Wheeljack that is. Ratchet made a mental note to monitor him.

Whilst Ratchet returned to his work, Wheeljack had gone back out to his ship. He entered and walked forward to sit in the pilot's chair. He paused momentarily, looking at the space where (Y/n)'s car had been; also looking at the small streak where (she/he) had sat on the co-pilot chair. He shook his helm. "Idiot."

Pressing the dash, the ship rumbled to life. The mech was about to close the ship and take off when he stopped. Turned the ship off and settled back into his chair. Thinking.

Wheeljack was a mech of action, of battle, this was a strange occurrence. His processor churned, dredging up memories both old and new. All shadowed by the image of a pained (girl/boy) trying to shrug, fighting through the pain. He could hear their words. "I was just worried for you both." "I honestly don't know."

He saw the similarities between those words...and ones he had heard, a long time ago.

He turned and stood, leaving the prospect of flight behind for now. 'I think I'll stay awhile longer' he thought.

-----------------------Long Time skip-------------------------------

Your pov:

About a month had passed. I'd had a full recovery; just with a few scars to add to my ever growing collection. I'd taken to wearing high collar jumpers or scarves at school to hide my neck and I didn't wear shorts anymore. There'd been several more battles with the Decepticons...retrieving Iacon relics...that kinda thing.

The shots rang out in the training room as I systematically went down the line of targets I had set up at the other end, firing through the centre of each of them; the sniper rifle giving barely any kick in my trained hands. I could only faintly hear an echo through the old ear defenders I wore. 'Really need to get new ones.'

As I fired, I thought. About my friends, the Autobots, the Decepticons, M.E.C.H and Wheeljack.

I had had quite a few conversations with the wrecker the past few weeks. After Bulkhead recovered we were all overjoyed. I don't know how...but I managed to persuade Wheeljack to stay and encourage him, at least for a little while. He'd confessed that it felt painful watching his friend struggle. I'd told him to suck it up, at least he's alive and that it would help Bulkhead. He'd chuckled at that.

'I have to confess, he has a nice laugh...kinda cute.' I froze. 'Oh no (y/n), you are not thinking THAT again.'

I shook my head and removed my defenders. Emptying the rifle and cleaning it. Once I was done I put it down and jogged the length of the room to collect the targets. I was off centre on quite a few, from when I'd swung too fast, but otherwise I'd hit dead centre on all the others. I stacked them and carried them back across the room to collect my rifle before leaving the room for my car.

I strolled along the high-ceiling corridor. Humming softly under my breath. Pede-steps, accompanied by a soft, steady clanking noise, sounded from behind me. I threw a look over my shoulder to see Wheeljack turn the corner; chucking a grenade in the air and catching it with his servo, repeatedly. His steps stalled momentarily when he saw me before resuming their steady pace. As he passed my smaller form he passed the grenade over his helm from behind his back, catching it in one servo, while his helm was turned towards me slightly; a smirk evident on his faceplate. He then continued on around the corner to the main room. 'What was that about?'

I frowned and took a turn off to the room where I keep my car; my 'garage' so to speak.

--------------------------Time skip--------------------------------

I sat on the steps next to Raf and Miko as we waited for the bots to come pick them up. The bespeckled boy was trying unsuccessfully to calm me down.

"My car is GONE! How do you expect me to calm down?!"

He sighed and looked at Miko imploringly, who just shrugged in response. Shaking, silently I seethed. 'If that brat Vince f*@&ing got it towed...I'll kill'im!'

He'd had a bone to pick with me from day 1...'don't know why!' I laughed with no emotion, a dead kind of laugh. Raf looked at me alarmed, his glasses slipping on his nose.

"Um (y/n), I'm sure there's a...uh, reasonable explanation."

His words were cut off by the sounds of an impatient horn. We looked up to see Bulkhead, Bumblebee...and Wheeljack?...parked on the sidewalk. Miko rushed to Bulkhead while I walked up to Bee with Raf. We stopped before him and I looked over at Wheeljack.

"Why are you here?"

His alt-mode shuddered as he chuckled. "Picking you up since you haven't got your car."

I waved at Raf and moved to climb in Wheeljack's altmode.

It took a second before it clicked.

"You took...where is my car?" I growled. The insignia on the steering wheel flashed in time with his chuckles.

"I needed an excuse to get out the base...you seemed perfect." He paused. "You're pretty when you're angry."

I raised an eyebrow at that. "Mind repeating that."

He stalled. "Forget I said that."

It was my turn to laugh. We had left the town behind and ventured onto the open road. Once I calmed myself it was silent for a few moments before I piped up. "I think you're not so bad looking yourself.'

I collapsed with laughter, as I clutched the seat when Wheeljack momentarily froze up and skidded off the road.

[awfully-sadistic]

Week 1: Oct 2nd

The Adventures of Dottie and Dodger A series of linear prompt one-shots.

I kind of broke my own rule and couldn’t resist adding in a little something-something special. You’ll know it when you see it. I just hope it’s not too strange. But what the fuck, I can mold this story any way I want.

It was very early morning in the second day of October and Dot was on her way to the office building she and Dodger had purchased just yesterday. Driving down the road, Dot could see that various Halloween objects have been put out decorating yards and roofs with over-sized grim reapers, inflatable and real pumpkins, and strings of lights celebrating Halloween colors, but that wasn’t a surprise. It was as early as mid-September when she began to see signs of Halloween and it excited her.

Halloween was her favorite holiday and the entire month was already promising to bring along the spirit as soon as it could. With the appearance of the Poltergeist yesterday (and the paperwork that followed, but we don’t talk about that), Dot thought that Halloween had definitely come early. She wasn’t complaining. She wished it was Halloween all year-round, but with the spooky month comes attached their busiest time of the year.

It was expected that Human and Supernatural alike call upon the Agency in a tizzy about hauntings, possessions, and other spook factors that wouldn’t normally make an appearance any other time of the year. Obviously, Halloween lowered some sort of barrier that allows the things that go bump in the night liberated freedom this time of year.

She remembered last year; she didn’t think she’d survive much longer running their business out of her home. There were people coming and going and she didn't like the unexpected visitors who would appear in the dead of night for an emergency. She would not admit this, but it was also kind of freaky hearing about all these spooky stories and then having to go to sleep in the same house. There were times when Dodger had been called and invited to stay the night simply because Dot had heard something she wished she hadn’t and her overactive imagination had convinced her that everything was out to get her.

In those times, Dodger was nice enough not to question her intentions as if he had already known what had been bothering her. Then he’d attempt to bore her with interesting tidbits he might have learned that week. It normally had the opposite affect; they’d both stay up all night talking.

Dot finally pulled up to the office space. The building on the outside looked as abandoned as it had on the inside. But Dot figured with a little TLC, the place would brighten right up. A little bit of rose bushes lining the sidewalk to the front doors could work wonders and baby’s breath with some carnations and other filler flowers as accents would make the place seem cheery and fragrant. Someone to take care of the grass would flush this place with some much-needed color instead of the concrete jungle in its place. Trees were scattered about but they looked like they were dying; granted it was in the middle of fall, perhaps they’d look a little different come spring.

It was all one story, (thank god because who liked to climb stairs?), with the parking lot in front right off the road with enough space for the employee range given in the office. There was about twenty-four rooms and Dot knew because she had made a quick run back and forth from her home to make good on the promise about filling the rooms with her old outfits. She had her very own personal dressing room and it felt real fancy if anyone asked.

She just didn’t know what to do with the rest of the rooms. Rooms with more than enough space than an employment of two.

Well, three now with Armand, Jr.

Armand, Jr. or from this point forward known as Armand was the ghost that lived in the Grandfather Clock Dot had named Armand. So, in reality, the clock would be Armand, Sr. There was honestly no reason to tack on a Jr. to Armand, Jr’s name but for the sake of this on-going inside joke now, it was there now and Dot didn’t want to change it. Perhaps it hinted at her personality that she was resistant to change, no matter how little. Dot wouldn’t give it another thought now especially since she was pushing her way through the glass double-doors that would sweep her into the receptionist and waiting area.

Her eyes widened as she took in the receptionist area. It was like a whole new place. Yesterday, there had been cobwebs and dust settled on surfaces and white sheets over various furniture pieces that had been left behind. It had given the place a gloomy look.

Now, there was no sign that there had ever been a speck of dust. The area was brightly lit and felt welcoming. The walls were painted, she now realized. A light, baby blue. She could see there was also an assortment of hanging pictures and magazines laid out on the coffee table nearby and stocked with one of those wooden holders you’d mostly see at an official looking doctor’s office or a dentistry. She was taken back by the presence of a water cooler; she hadn’t seen that yesterday. Perhaps even more surprising was a working 32” flat screen television on the wall opposite the assembly of chairs and it was switched on, mute, showing various flashing pictures about Ashbourne; News. Local stuff. Captions on.

Looking at her feet, she could see that the carpet had been vacuumed recently and perhaps possibly cleaned but she couldn’t tell. But it surely seemed like it because it wasn’t this color yesterday.

Holy fuck, this place was actually functional.

She bumped against the receptionist area, the cutout window reminded her something of a shell and she hung in, trying to take a peek in the back. From what she could see, the police station area with its cubicles was arranged, straightened out, and she thought she could hear voices further back.

“Helloooooo?” she called out.

The voices stopped. Dot strained to hear if Dodger or Armand had been talking to each other but when she felt a light tap on her back, she nearly shrieked. Pulling herself out of the cutout, she whirled around and saw that both Dodger and Armand had come in from the outside with grocery bags in their hands.

Dodger had been the one to tap her. Dot placed a hand over her racing heart, taking in a deep breath to steel her nerves. “Goddamn it, Dodge. What did I say about doing that?”

“Announce ya’self.” Dodger repeated using the same inflection Dot had always used on him.

“Cheeky bastard.” Dot scolded but she had a grin on her face. “Don’t just do that. It’s a good way to get smacked one day.” her gaze trailed down to the bags they held, a question already forming in her eyes even as she finished speaking.

“We thought we’d stock the break room.” Dodger met her halfway, nodding his head beyond the door separating the waiting area from the rest of the office building. Dot followed his gaze before coming upon a sudden reminder. One that sent little shivers up her spine. It had suddenly clicked that she had without realizing, subconsciously noticed, she was the only car in the parking lot.

“I thought I heard voices back there.”

“You probably did,” Dodger said, looking at Armand. “there’s a television set in the breakroom, too. At his insistence.”

“I tried to get one put in the bathroom but I remembered, I do not have to use one.” Armand smiled.

“I reminded you of that.”

Armand’s smile never wavered even as he amended, “Dodger reminded me of that.”

Dot still didn’t feel comforted for some reason but it might have been her overthinking everything. But the banter between Dodger and Armand did a good job of distracting her enough to push that uncomfortable feeling away.

“I didn’t know you could eat, Armand.” Dot said, giving him a rub on the head. In his corporeal form, Armand was physical to the touch which allowed him to hold on to the groceries and appreciate Dot’s gesture. He was also taller than her and she had to stretch her arm up to even do that much. Armand ducked his head and the look on his face was similar to the look he had when he was praised.

“I can eat. I can taste flavors. But it doesn’t do anything for me. I cannot gain any nutrients or get the same satisfaction of feeling full. I think it does help me with energy, but I don’t know for sure.”

“I suspect it helps him keep his corporeal form for longer.”

Dot looked surprised at Dodger’s input, “He can’t hold onto this form for very long?”

“He can go about a full day but needs to rest the next so he’s told me. So, every other day. To see if eating restores any energy to allow him to hold onto this form for longer, I would have to test this theory by feeding him and then checking against how long he can previously hold out, if there’s any change at all. It’s going to take weeks to gain a definitive answer.”

“How exciting.” Dot said dryly before adding, “You do know, he’s not a science experiment. Right?”

Armand, silent through the exchange, finally spoke up, “It’s alright, Dottie. I told him he could try. If it helps you guys, I would love to be in this form for much longer. It just feels right.”

Dot could feel that Armand meant that with every ghost fiber of his pure being. She could feel her heart melting at his resolve and knew he earnestly meant to do anything he could for them. It had been radiating off of him in waves. Armand almost seemed desperate to be of use to them.

For what reason, she still had to find out but she wasn’t about to make him bend over backwards in the meantime. It was even harder to tell if he was mistaking this corporeal form as to partake in being alive again. His comment about trying to use the bathroom was funny but the undertones seemed depressing. He was doing live things or entertaining the thought, but what for? Because Dot and Dodger were alive and he was trying to fit in? Was he staying in this form because it helped them or him?

And was it wrong to encourage him to stay in this form longer in case it feeds into the fantasy? Dot wasn’t one to turn away from anything fantasy related because reality sucked. She daydreamed all the time. She didn’t want to tell Armand to face reality. He shouldn’t have to especially if she didn’t want to.

And why was his personality as eager to seek out praise as often as he did? Was this part of his unresolved business? Ghosts were tricky because there could be many reasons they stayed behind. Armand showed no indication that he was disgruntled or regretful in anyway. If anything, he seemed happy-go-lucky and incredibly naïve. Trusting. Perhaps, too trusting.

She searched Armand’s expression; he stared back at her with a smile that looked hopeful. She knew she couldn’t help him if it turned out he missed being alive if only because she didn’t know how to bring back the dead and the day when that realization hit him was going to break her heart. She hoped that wasn’t the case. With every fiber of her being, she hoped so dearly.

She took the groceries from Armand’s delicate looking arms, signaling the men to follow her as she pushed through the doors to head for the breakroom.

“What would help us is you being yourself, Armand. I don’t expect anything from you except to do what you want to do. If you want to help us, that’s great! And if you want to help Dodger with his weird experiment, you can do that, too.”

Dodger made a discontented noise at the back of his throat as they settled the groceries on the counter in the breakroom. Dot made a note to check the television; to her relief, it was still turned on. To her ‘not relief’, the volume was turned down so low, you could only be in the breakroom to hear it. She hoped to god sound traveled in this building.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been part of an experiment. Do you think it’s fun?” Armand asked, looking between Dodger and Dot. Dot was pulling apples out of the bag before she turned to look at Dodger because she didn’t know how to answer this one.

“It’s fun for me.” Dodger replied, pulling out a hand of bananas.

Armand pulled out a toilet brush scrubber, “How do you eat this one?”

Dot took the scrubber gently from Armand’s long, graceful fingers. “You don’t eat this, honey. And Dodger is going to try to make this experiment as fun for you as he can or I’m going to make him eat this.”

“Noted, love.” Dodger murmured, preoccupied with his groceries to worry about what was in Dot’s hand. Armand had a look of realization on him.

“Oh, it’s Dodger food.”

“Exactly.” Dot laughed.

Putting away the groceries was longer than usual if only because Armand kept asking how to eat everything. And not everything Dodger had bought was for consumption. But Dot had the patience to teach him what was and was not safe to eat. Basically, anything in the fridge but if Armand was unsure, he was to get Dot’s approval first. Dot also had to hand it to Dodger; he did a good job of stocking the breakroom with lots of snacks and he didn’t forget her creamer and fixings for her coffee.

“After five years paired with you, I better remember.” He said, taking a sweep around the breakroom. “I’ll have to write a thank-you note to the Agency for giving us their old equipment.”

“Ah, I was wondering where we got half this shit.” Dot commented. “Can’t believe Chief Aldric would part with any of it to help us.”

“He specifically told them to give us the stuff they had in the storage room. If they attempted to give us anything new, they could start working for us. At least, that was what Agent Hartwin told me while sounding very apologetic.”

Dot’s face grew a discontented look about it, “Mm. He’s always been a little cowardly. But that’s the same storage where everything gets thrown in once it outlives its usefulness? That sounds more likely. Yeah, thank them for me too.”

“I kept telling them I could repair almost anything. Everything they’ve given us I was able to repair with no real cost. I had most of the spare parts I needed at home.”

“Well, like you’re fond of saying, their loss.” Dot said, wondering what the inside of Dodger’s house looked like. “It certainly looks like everything works like new. I wouldn’t have thought we got hand-me-downs whatsoever.”

Armand looked lost, “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Free stuff usually is,” Dodger pointed out. “but they meant to give us their broken and out of date equipment. Perhaps as a way to haze us. Or thumb their nose at us.”

“I don’t think anyone’s used that saying since the 1800’s,” Dot cracked.

“Actually, my dear, the first usage was recorded around the 1920’s. It made a reappearance around the 1930’s but since then I’ll admit it’s a little out of date.”

Dot and Armand stared at Dodger who didn’t say anything after that, content that his lesson had gotten across. Learning something new was never expected or planned as far as Dot was concerned. However, Dodger’s matter-of-fact way of speaking and on a rare note, when he went on spouting facts about word usage or anything else he seemed to be an overnight expert on, she would let him babble on about the little factoids because she would learn something new whether she asked for it or not.

For the most part, he could come across as a know-it-all for those who didn’t know him.

Dot did know him and understood he wasn’t just showing off. He was genuinely sharing something with her and she often replied like a proud mother. “Thanks, Dodge. That’s really interesting.”

“That sounds silly,” Armand said next. He placed his thumb on his nose, “What is the point of this?”

“It’s a gesture that’s meant to disrespect,” Dodger replied. He took a moment to extend Armand’s fingers so he was doing the gesture correctly. “wiggle your fingers. That’s how it’s supposed to look.”

Dot placed a hand over her mouth to conceal the giggle wanting to escape. Armand looked confused, seemingly still not understanding how it’s supposed to be an insult. But he seemed to realize that he was currently gesturing towards them and gasped at the sudden revelation. “Oh no! I didn’t mean any disrespect!” His hand flew off his nose and straightened to his side. “I’m so sorry!”

Dot laughed this time, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Armand. It’s just a silly little gesture and if you want to do it, go ahead. But always at Dodge and never at me.” She gently teased. Armand seemed shocked at the insinuation that he could ever thumb his nose at Dot. The very idea of insulting her whatsoever seemed to pale him more than his ghosted form.

“I’d never!”

The sentiment was sweet and filled Dot with a warm feeling that surely showed in her smile.

“I’ve had the business cards renewed, “Dodger brought up, calling their attention. In a separate bag that Dot hadn’t noticed, Dodger pulled out a cardboard container the size of a medium jewelry box. The top came off like lid and Dodger pulled out a single card. It was a matte black cardstock with their new address and phone number pasted under the name of their office in sprawling gold script. It looked incredibly fancy, Dot was afraid to touch it.

“Sanctum Sanctorum?” Dot asked, looking up at Dodger. “Isn’t that that one place where you-know-who lives in New York or… something? It was all over the news years and years ago, we can’t get away with something like this.”

Armand quirked his head, “Is something wrong with the name? When Dodger explained it’s something you really liked, we thought it was the best idea to go with.”

Dot could feel herself grow soft at the thought they put in for her especially since Dodger remembered a passing comment from more than a year ago. But she shook her head, “You probably don’t know this, Armand, but it’s a really big world out there. Aside from the Agency, there are organizations out there that do bigger work than what we do with a lot more pull and power.” Then she turned to Dodger, “We’re going to get sued.”

“It’s alright. It’s a Latin phrase and the last time I checked, there was no copyright on it. There are plenty of places that use the same phrase. By its very definition, all it means is a sacred place.”

“You really have an answer for everything.” Dot remarked but she couldn’t believe they were actually getting away with calling their new office building a Sanctum Sanctorum. As long as they didn’t put “the” in front of it, maybe it’ll be okay. That way it didn’t seem official and they didn’t step on anybody’s very important toes…

“Well, we better start calling it the Sanctum for short before we get a call from… disgruntled but really impressive superheroes.”

“Superheroes?”

Dot and Dodger glanced over at Armand. In a lot of ways, he really was like a baby. He remembered some things from the time he was alive but other things, you had to explain to him. It was a good thing both Dot and Dodger exhibited patience well beyond their years. Dot cleared her throat taking the lead on this one. After all, she’s been following the history and accounts ever since their appearance.

“Years and years ago, like way before Dodge and I were born and before our parents were born and perhaps even their parents, so we’re talking about grandparents and maybe even great-grandparents, there was a really scary war. Like, we’re talking throw everyone back in medieval times, end of the world as we know it, war. Back then, relations between Humans and Supernatural beings were non-existent as proof of the Supernatural was more or less unverified. Things like Ghosts, Vampires, Weres, Witches, or anything else like that was deemed legend and at most, urban legends. Other times it was fuel for scary stories on camping trips and scaring little children into behaving.

But it was near impossible to prove the existence of anything Supernatural and for the most part, Humans didn’t have anywhere near the impressive range of abilities they have today so everything was really boring and mundane. Even so, Humans were pretty advanced. I mean, the stuff they had back then doesn’t hold a candle to what we have now, but they were pretty advanced in technology and space exploration and in those times, it was pretty impressive especially when we look back in the past and see how far we’ve come. Back then, they could only get to Luna. Now, we have a colony on Luna. See the comparison?”

“Luna?”

“The moon, love.” Dot laughed. “So, circling back to the Supernatural, Humans had sightings, superstitions, and sometimes proof like video and pictures but that eventually ended up as hoaxes most times. They didn’t have the equipment we have today that can verify Supernatural presence without a doubt or equipment that detect latent power in Humans. Furthermore, people liked feeding into the fear that there might be something wandering on this planet other than themselves. Yet, ironically, Humans were, and some could say still are, really arrogant in terms of their chain of command in life. Even if there had been something out there, they would always deem themselves higher than anything else that came along. They’ve just been in charge for so long, it was unthinkable that anything greater could challenge that. And in a lot of ways, Humans were right. They have the capacity to think a lot bigger than they are and when they band together, they can pull off some of the most incredible spectacles. But Humans are also very prideful creatures which prevent them from reaching their full potential.

Or so it’s been hypothesized. After all, they did fight with each other over territory and stupid shit like that impeding their own progress.

In a lot of ways, the Supernaturals should have expected it. But one day, there they were. Tired of hiding, tired of their cultures and beliefs being ridiculed and turned into insulting myths, they just emerged. As I remember every account in the history books have put it, it was like an invasion. However, no one could tell who was put on the planet first. Humans thought they had the right to the world because they’ve been the ones to dominate it. Supernaturals felt they’ve also been there just as long but were forced into hiding because of the discrimination and hatred Humans fueled into their stories turned them into hideous things. Monsters, honestly. They would have been hated.

But everyone hated each other. There were clashes, skirmishes, wars. Cities were decimated because despite the Humans claiming to have dominated the world, they were still Humans. They bled easily, bruised easily, weren’t as psychically or physically gifted like Supernaturals were known; enhanced strength, telekinesis, flight, shapeshifting—as you can imagine, it really tipped the scales in the Supernatural’s favor.

But one day, there was a point where Humans were able to somehow turn it around. If you ask anyone their opinion, there are many guesses as to what happened. Some say that at a certain point, to save themselves, Humans just evolved. In high stress situations or faced with extinction, it awoken something in Humans that allowed them to push back. Others say a miracle took place bestowed upon whatever God they worshipped that saw the Humans suffering and decided to help. And if that were the case, whatever God touched them never fucking appeared again. Kind of ridiculous if you ask me—”

“Dot,” Dodger cut in, steering Dot back into the story. He turned to Armand and explained, “Religion is a touchy subject. Every case she’s had at the Agency concerning the religiously imbalanced turned everything upside down and inside out. She’s never had a good experience dealing with them.”

“Don’t forget they are often the most judgmental and preachy assholes to ever deal with. Sorry.” She cleared her throat, finding her stride again. “Anyway, whatever had happened imbued the Humans with the strength to fight evenly with the Supernaturals. The powers that Supernaturals exhibited were suddenly shared with Humans. If a Vampire had super strength, so did Herbert the Human. If this Werewolf can run very fast, so can Susan the Human. It was both a good thing and a bad thing; that meant Humans wouldn’t be extinct but it also meant it fueled their idea that they were the true inheritors of the World. I mean, what else could convince them if not that moment that they evolved or were God-touched on the butt or whatever.

The fights and wars escalated and this happened all over the World. Human and Supernatural homes and cities and lands were absolutely fucking wrecked. Civilians that didn’t have supernatural abilities, and that accounted for Supernaturals and Humans alike, were housed in safe zones; it was about the only truce Supernaturals and Humans honored. People or Beings who couldn’t fight back to defend themselves should be given protection was the one thing they agreed upon, it was a fucking miracle. Now that I think about it, it might have to have been who was in power back then, honestly.”

“That sounds so terrible,” Armand said. He looked like he was about to cry. Dot was starting to regret telling the story. “everyone really hated each other.”

“Well, I mean, it sort of gets better.” Dot pointed out, “I’m not done yet. I promise the superheroes are coming in.”

Armand’s eyes brightened, “Oh yes! Superheroes! What are they?”

Dot laughed, “Now hold on. Before they came along, we need to get to the part about the aliens.”

Armand looked confused for a second before he finally asked, “What is the aliens?”

Dot and Dodger exchanged glances. Dot seemed worried and Dodger just looked perplexed. The things Armand did and did not know were astounding sometimes. It never failed to throw them for a loop when he asked.

“You don’t know what aliens are?” Dodger asked. Before Armand could reply, he explained, “Extraterrestrial life. Or, a person who is not a national of the country they are living in.”

“Or a movie franchise,” Dot input.

“What is extraterr—”

“Something that did not originate of this earth.” Dodger quickly explained. “Aliens come from outer space. Outer space is the big thing above our heads past the sky with many stars and planets.”

Dot laughed, smacking Dodger on the arm playfully. “I’m sure he knew what outer space was.”

“I, for one, am not quite sure, love.”

Armand replied, “I know! I know now.”

Dot gestured, pulling attention back to her so she could continue with the history of their planet that apparently Armand might need another run through with. She hoped she hadn’t lost him somewhere along all that explaining.

“The aliens. Okay, with the Humans and Supernaturals fighting each other, it seemed like nothing could have been able to stop this on-going war that would surely have pulled us into it years down the road. But we were either very lucky or unlucky because Aliens appeared out of nowhere and blasted all of our collective asses.

The sorry thing about that was the Aliens waltzed into a war that they weren’t even concerned with. They were running away from their own stupid shit. Apparently, history reports from an Alien POW had revealed they were on the run from a fleet from another freaking dimension. It shocked everyone to the core hearing about different dimensions and seeing Aliens that the war against Humans and Supernaturals seemed so… petty, now.

In the meantime, Aliens killed without discrimination. Remember the safe zones that both sides had agreed were untouchable? Aliens struck there first. Humans and Supernaturals alike were being targeted and even dragged into a war that wasn’t theirs. An even larger war on a scale that no one could fathom. We eventually figured out why we were being hit so hard. Aliens had the technology to brainwash their prisoners to use themselves as canon fodder so they’d lessen their own causalities and since the World was ripe with many shields, Humans and Supernaturals found out really fast it didn’t matter what they were. As far as the Aliens were concerned, they were the same.

I remember reading that it was the point where Humans and Supernaturals banded together to fight a common enemy to save themselves. By then, about one-third of the population had been wiped out.”

“To put it into perspective,” Dodger interrupted, “That’s two billion people. Total, our population including the Supernatural was about seven billion. Our history’s worst genocide before the Alien invasion is about six million. Doesn’t even come close to the damage of almost wiping us off collectively as a species and without a certain intervention, we would have been wiped out without a doubt.”

Armand’s brows were furrowed as he tried to imagine what two billion people looked like. The numbers were huge, he understood that much at least. “What is this certain intervention?”

Dot continued with a smile that stretched widely. This was a subject she knew all about as it fascinated her. “This is where the superheroes come in. In this other dimension, people with incredible gifted abilities who use them for good and justice were fighting the Alien race on the other side. Our planet didn’t know at the time and assumed the Aliens were just fighting other bad, stupid aliens. But that wasn’t the case. This Alien race who were crystalline and spindly were called the Dovirs. They had been trying to take over another earth-like planet coincidentally… named Earth-616 but bit off more than they could chew and were chased off. That didn’t mean they were retreating. They were desperate as it had been explained to us. In the midst of this chase, they ripped a tear into another dimension to cheat and bolster their numbers—which they accomplished coming here—to one day go back and try taking over once more.

If my memory serves correctly, and it always does, we’re Earth-6969. Which, by the way, we came away as the winner for coolest planet name. The representatives from Earth-616 landed here and explained it for us. It’s all over history books and by now is common knowledge.

In a lot of ways, Earth-616 is like our planet; same geographical lands and climate. We even have the same cities give or take a couple of small towns that differ between us. Oh yeah, and they weren’t in the throes of war waged in the name of discrimination but for the most part, yeah. We were pretty similar. Granted, they were more advanced in terms of technology but with the appearance of the Dovirs and our access to their technology, we’ve bolstered our own. Earth-616 even shares some of its technological advances with us which was pretty cool of them.

But comparing the two worlds, the Human races are the same, the Supernatural races are the same, we were just lacking our own Superheroes. And Armand, that means they are a band of people that come together despite their differences to make the place they live a better environment for everyone.”

Armand smiled, finally understanding. “So, they’re really important.”

“I’d say that they were. I know there are people who don’t share the same sentiment. It’s stupid and surprises me that this is coming from both sides.” Dot took a deep breath before she went down that road. It was clear to anybody listening that this was a passionate subject for her.

“I’d say we’re getting close to the ideal of living together in harmony, slowly. That’s why organizations like the Agency and what we do popped up. The Dovirs made us realize that we were entirely unequipped to handle an outside invasion. At the same time, we can’t keep fighting each other.

Taking a page out of 616’s example, their Superheroes and Supernaturals and Humans live together in a way that we’re trying to pull together nowadays. I’m not saying their side is perfect; if you pay attention to them, you’d see they just as well have their own issues with discrimination and blatant racism. Their government can be corrupt just as any political power, but we’re all trying to fight that and have been for a long time.

If it’s going to end in our lifetime remains to be seen, but I’d like to think we’re closer than five, ten years ago. It took a long ass time for our present to happen. I mean, the effects of that war are still very present today; tensions between the Humans and Supernaturals are still tense in some situations but for the most part, we’re getting there.

Plus, there’s still that nasty tear between our dimensions that now connect us to Earth-616. Isn’t it cool we’re neighbors?”

Armand was silent for a very long time, his expression reflecting a thoughtful gaze. Dot wondered if she had lost him along the way somewhere. She winced, glancing over at Dodger, “I might have gotten a little preachy at the end, there.”

Dodger shook his head, “Nonsense, I think you’ve pulled together a very beautiful summarization of our history. There wasn’t anything in what you said I disagreed with.”

Smiling, Dot gave Dodger’s hand an affectionate pat before Armand finally spoke which took them both by surprise as he asked, “How do we visit Earth-616? Do we have a very long ladder we climb to get there?”

Dot remained in a stupor for another second before laughing almost in disbelief, “Oh, no, honey. Haha, that’s where the Sanctum Sanctorum comes into play.” She further explained as soon as she saw the confusion in Armand’s features, “There’s a Sorcerer who lives down in New York that bridges the connection between our two worlds otherwise it’d be dangerous keeping that tear unsupervised. It’s complicated. Something about not having our own guardian. From what I know, he spends his time between the two worlds; we’re sort of like his vacation house.”

Then it clicked. Armand’s mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ as his eyes rounded in unison. “That’s why we’re going to get sued!”

“We’re not going to get sued.” Dodger argued.

Dot turned her head to face Dodger, almost jumping when she came face to face with a terrifying red expression. It took her a moment to realize he had pulled something out of a grocery bag and put it on his face.

“Take off that mask,” she scolded before adding, “that is a mask, right?”

“Ah! My Halloween costume!” Armand exclaimed, taking the mask from Dodger’s hands. “Dodger explained in the store why there were so many skeletons and witches on display. Hellowoon.”

“…Why would you think that was my face?” Dodger asked but went unheard as Armand continued.

“You’re supposed to dress as something scary, so I thought this was scary.” The ghost lifted his pale hand up to cover his impressive face with the unimpressive red mask. It had a long nose and angry eyebrows, its mouth furled down in the snarliest of snarls. Dot eyed it wearily.

“That’s great, honey. But you don’t have to be scary if you don’t want to, you can be anything you want. Also, did you say Hellowoon?”

“That’s not what it’s called?” he asked, pulling the mask to one side. He peered out with an amethyst hued eye expectant of Dot to correct him. But she didn’t have the heart.

“Well, it’s official. Happy Hellowoon, everyone!”

“I’m serious, did you really think that was my face?”

“Dodge, I swear to god. Any god.”

There was ring from the front which caught Dot, Dodger, and Armand’s attention. Their heads turned towards where the receptionist desk area sat before they looked at each other again.

“Do we have a literal doorbell?” Dot asked.

“Mm, I think there was a little “ring for service” bell somewhere on the desk. Armand was ringing it incessantly earlier.” Dodger replied.

“I had to make sure it would ring the next time, too.” Armand whispered.

“I’m not sure what that means.”

“What do we do?” Dot asked Dodger lowering her voice to a conspiring whisper. “It can’t be a client, right? You just printed the cards out today.”

“You might have, but I asked around and found out where you relocated. In any case, I let myself in. I hope that’s okay.” The new voice spoke with an authority that told anyone listening that he had every right to be there. It didn’t fail snapping their attention to the doorframe where a tall man stood as if he belonged there clad in a red cape that seemed to have a mind of its own. It moved where there was no wind and occasionally, the man would brush back the flap of the collar out of his face. The breakroom never had a more important guest. In all of her life, Dot never expected to come face to face with anyone as extraordinary or significant as Doctor Stephen Strange.

Dodger leaned in, whispering, “On second thought, we might be getting sued after all.”

“That wasn’t quite the idea I had in mind.” Stephen smiled. It looked like he was confronting a group of guilty children. Well, two guilty children. The third was quite obviously unusual. A flicker of recognition sparked in Stephen Strange’s gray gaze before it landed on Dot. “I was hoping you could take on a case for me.”

Dot swallowed dryly and she gripped the sides of her shirt, then ran her palm down the side of her leggings. She was nervous and it wasn’t coming from Stephen. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Stephen Strange, THE Stephen Strange, visiting the planet just to enlist her services? From what she could remember, she didn’t know how often he visited 6969, but it couldn’t have been that often, right? He had his own responsibilities on his own planet, didn’t he?

“O-Of course,” she put cautiously. She couldn’t help the stutter in her voice mainly because she had never expected in her lifetime to ever run into a Superhero from 616. An encounter was supposed to be rare. Even if their planets were connected by the rupture the Dovirs were responsible for, that didn’t mean the two planets could interfere with one another unless absolutely dire. Unless, that had changed? “What could we do for you, Doctor Strange?”

There was a brief moment when it looked like Stephen Strange looked in approval at being recognized. He all but purred the next statement, “Good, so we know of each other.”

“Y-You know me?”

“Dot Dreadful and Dodger Ainsworth Mac Alister of the private eye institution, Supernatural Investigations. Previously employed by the government sanctioned organization known as The Agency, real creative name, hm? You guys obviously have the superior one.”

Dot laughed nervously.

“You two were employed by The Agency for ten years, partnered for five because you, Ms. Dot, weren’t compatible with anyone who didn’t overload your empath abilities and Mr. Dodger stayed at entry level because he just liked doing the paperwork.”

Dot and Armand looked at Dodger who shrugged. Doctor Strange continued.

“You two quit a year ago and partnered to create your own business citing irreconcilable differences for your departure with the Agency to mask the fact you two were really unhappy there but it was an open secret considering how much Dot was known to push the cases deemed too “unimportant” by The Agency to favor the ones with more publicity to shed the project in a better light. In reality, you understood the corruption taking place once the previous Chief was replaced with Aldric, the mayor-elected official with a discrimination against Supernaturals. Another reason included being tired of being tied up by bureaucracy and wanted to make a genuine difference. Starting yesterday, you relocated to this site after operating out of your home for the last year. I hope I didn’t miss anything.”

“We hired a ghost as a receptionist.” Dodger pointed out. Stephen’s gaze trailed from Dot, then to Dodger, and last to Armand. “His name is Armand.”

“Yes, of course. That’s how he fits in.”

“And this is my Hellowoon costume,” Armand added, lifting the thing to his face. “It’s spooky, isn’t it?”

Stephen pointed, almost doing a double-take. He seemed genuinely taken aback by the outburst but covered it up as soon as the emotion flickered across his face. “Did he just say Hellowoon?”

By this time, Dot stepped up to Stephen, floored by how he knew so much. And it seemed everyone she was meeting lately simply towered over her. She extended an arm out towards the main office space.

“Why don’t you tell us the details of this case, Doctor?”

Stephen glanced down at Dot, giving her a charming smile that Dot could sworn was her imagination. Only in her dreams could someone this amazing exist, right? She had many fantasies about meeting any of the Supers in 616 but to actually be meeting one right now? …Maybe reality didn’t suck for once.

She led the Doctor to a random desk hoping it was to his taste. Maybe she should have paid more attention to the furniture. Once seated, she took out a legal pad and grabbed a pen. She had no idea where the invoices were but it was a good thing Dodger had her back. He grabbed an invoice while Dot recorded the details for any pertinent information.

Doctor Strange had the presence even while sitting to intimidate her. He seemed so regal and she could feel the pen feel warm in her hand. It took a while to realize the warmness was coming from her own hand. She just seemed so flustered! She hoped she looked composed on the outside at least.

“This peculiar case is located in the small town of Whitecrest. I’m sure you know it.”

Dot nodded, getting down to business. She ducked her head and wrote down Whitecrest as she spoke, “I know it. It looks like a little village from a medieval fantasy. Has a tavern and inn, even a functioning blacksmith. Everyone likes to ride horses to get around. It shouldn’t be too far from Ashbourne.”

Armand, seated across from Dodger who was copying the information for the Invoice asked, “Is Whitecrest that different?”

Stephen smiled, approval glinting in his eye. “After the Great War, as your planet calls it, a lot of towns had trouble rebuilding. Or more correctly, the people of states and towns all over had trouble deciding how they wanted to rebuild. Some had the finances to support their ambitious renovations while other towns like Whitecrest ended up looking like a piece of the past.”

“Way past,” Dot input with a smile, looking at Stephen. It was amazing how much of their history he bothered to learn. “Towns like Whitecrest have a lot of problems. It has nothing to do with the people most times. Ah, Doctor, what would you like for us to do while we’re there?”

“I’ll be honest,” Stephen suddenly said in a serious tone. His face took on a pensive expression and he seemed hesitant on admitting something. Up close, Dot could see that there was a gathering of wrinkles at the corner of his eyes and with the addition of the white at his temples made him seem a little older than he appeared just a few minutes ago. Whatever he wanted to say weighed heavily on his mind for a while before he finally continued, “I don’t usually put off my tasks like this but I don’t trust going to The Agency to carry out what I’m about to ask you. I can’t do it myself as I’m needed back home, in fact, as soon as I’m done here, I’ll be heading back to my New York.”

“You’ve traveled a long way to see us,” Dot encouraged. “Whatever you have to ask, I promise we’ll do our best to carry it out.”

Stephen looked up giving Dot a little jolt as their gaze connected. He still looked grave and serious. “I don’t like passing the tasks I can do myself onto anyone else, especially if I don’t know them. But I’m taking a chance on your business.” He paused and his next statement lightened up his features, “What can I say, I have a soft spot for it.”

Dot tried her best to quell the blush that was threatening to rise to her cheeks. She cleared her throat and took her legal pad to fan herself, “Ah, haha.”

“The reason we don’t trust The Agency are possibly the same as yours,” Dodger put quite bravely. Dot was often surprised by the way he spoke as if he knew everything. By the way Stephen nodded convinced Dot that Dodger probably did know everything. Dodger continued, “Then all we have to do is prove that we’re not The Agency. We can complete this job. I’m sure of it.”

Coming from any other man, it may have sounded like boasting and Stephen said as much. “But there’s something in your tone that could reassure me that’s the case,” he admitted with a slight chuckle. “It reminds me of someone else I know. A little egocentric, likes his name on tacky buildings that he owns.”

“That’s not just a little.” Dodger said.

Stephen’s grin widened a little, “And much like that egotistical man, I like you.” Stephen took a glance at his watch and realizing he was pressed for time, decided to wrap it up. “When you get to Whitecrest, there’s a person I want you to see. The name I was given was Fitzsimmons. Word is that he hangs around the tavern or the inn.”

“We talk to him?” Dot asked, writing down the name.

“I’d like if you could. I wasn’t given much information myself but to get to me, it must have been significant. I’ll find out what that is as soon as I get back and you can report to me what that was.”

“Is this case was giving to you and is so significant, would it be dangerous?” Dodger asked. Dot was thinking it but she wasn’t sure she could pose the question without insulting Stephen. She cautiously looked up, thankful for Dodger who always said what was on his mind.

“It could very well be dangerous. But I had been digging around and came upon the conclusion that I could pass the task on if I didn’t have time for it. That is what I’m doing as much as I would like to solve this myself. I was told The Agency had the equipment handled to deal with almost anything but I don’t exactly approve of the publicity my name brings in this world.”

“We have the same equipment The Agency has,” Dot interjected quite confident herself. “so you don’t have to worry there. And we have no problem keeping your name out of anything, anywhere. Even out of our mouths. No one say Doctor Strange’s name.” Dot put a hand over her mouth then mumbled, “Starting now.”

“Can we call him Doctor Cape?” Armand asked.

“That’s insulting,” Dodger said.

“We have to call him something, right?”

Stephen surprised them by laughing. “That’s alright. I meant in newspapers or in any media where the public can get to it. I’m sorry to ask as I’m sure the exposure could help your company—”

“No no no! Don’t worry about that!” Dot exclaimed, wide-eyed. She had almost reached across the table to take his hands but restrained herself and her emotional self by sitting back in her chair and gripping her pen with both hands, longways. “That isn’t why we’re here. We really want to make a difference, doesn’t matter if our names are attached or not. If the people of Whitecrest can benefit from being helped by us or even Doctor Stephen Strange, it’s the outcome that’s important.”

“Besides, if we’re good at our job, our name will get out there somehow.” Dodger added.

Dot was nodding in agreement. Stephen chuckled again, quite entertained by this little group. If it wasn’t the strange ghost that didn’t know how to say Halloween, it was the blunt Dodger and the compassionate leader of the group, Dot, that made up Stephen’s mind.

“Alright then, I’ll entrust this task to you.” he deemed. Dot was filling out the last-minute details such as the date and time as Stephen stood up. For the first time, he took a good look around. “It’s just the three of you, right?”

“Yeah,” Dot said, looking up and following Stephen’s gaze. “it’s big, huh?”

Stephen sent her a wink that sent Dot’s tummy flipping. “I think it’s about the right size. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to take my leave. Do you mind if I meet you here the day after tomorrow, around the same time?”

“Oh, definitely!” Dot smiled. “So, the fourth at around seven-thirty.”

“It’s a date.”

Dot blinked, feeling herself flush this time. Before she had a chance to reflect on it, Doctor Strange opened with a strange gesture with a swing of his hand and an orange portal flickered to life in the middle of their office. From the other side, she could barely make out something that looked like an office and dark wood.

“From one Sanctum to another,” Stephen mused. “Good luck.” He finished before stepping into the portal. It disappeared as soon as his cape had cleared.

Dot, Dodger, and Armand were left gaping.

“Whoooooa! I can’t believe it!” Dot shrieked, throwing her hands up. Legal pad going with them.

“Fascinating. I wonder how he did that,” Dodger sounded just as thoughtful as Stephen had, moving around the spot where the portal had been.

Armand was the only one who wasn’t saying anything. Instead, he was looking at his mask. Dot, noticing, frowned and asked, “What’s wrong, love?”

“I wonder if it’s too late to change my costume.”

[huangels]

the universe works in mysterious ways - haechan

a/n: happy birthday to the shining sun, haechan!! this scenario is dedicated for hyuckie’s bday but it’s not june 6th anymore in korea but in america it is so-,, i didn’t expect this to be so long sorry dkshdh. i’m making a tag for birthday dedicated fics btw, (also i wanted it to be all in haechan’s POV butttt it didn’t turn out well so it’s half and half)

summary: Haechan bumps into you at the cafe you work in, and grows fond of you so he visits more often. Every visit is full of shining smiles and glowing eyes, until one night, he trudges in with a gloomy storm cloud above him. 

genre: fluff, if you squint there might be light angst?

warnings: none

word count: 3.1k

[ HC's POV ]

The buzzing small cafe is filled wall to wall with people. As expected, since it is breakfast time. Haechan is lucky enough to get there earlier than the breakfast rush hour to find an empty small table near the corner. At least, the table is by the window (he likes to people watch).

Haechan's next class doesn't start until noon, so he has time to relax and study his notes, mostly out of spite (his friend Mark says he crams studying before an exam). His laptop, every inch of the back filled with random stickers, is spread out across his small round table, along with his textbooks full of stick notes and notebooks. It isn't that Haechan is a bad or inadequate student who doesn't take notes, he's just a professional procrastinator. While his eyes skim through his bullet-pointed notes, he feels the on-building regret of waking up 4 hours before his first class of the day just to study in the chatty and stuffed cafe.

Haechan debates on whether he should get up and stand in the lengthy line to wait for a large cup of caffeine. Although, his head unknowingly falling from his hand and almost hitting the table answers his question. To save his table, Haechan places his red backpack on his seat, making sure his valuables are hidden from prying hands (his computer closed and hidden under an opened textbook and his phone safely in his pocket).

Though the line is long, looping around the small range of the cafe, the employees work fast to cater to everyone's orders. In no time, Haechan reaches the front of the line.

In place of his friend, Mark, who is usually working behind the cashier in the mornings, stands a new face. A very attractive new face.

"Good morning! What would you like?" you ask, meeting the slightly wide-eyed Haechan. The friendly smile that spreads across your face causes Haechan's heart to speed up, losing track of how long he's been staring at you. Not wanting to come off as creepy, Haechan shakes his head away from the distractions that are you. His usual order (a large caramel latte with whipped cream and a cherry) is on the tip of his tongue, but he freezes before it leaves his mouth.

What if my usual order seems too childish? Haechan thinks mentally. He doesn't want you to think he's younger than he is, ordering the sugariest drink in the cafe, especially since the customers previously in front of him ordered dark coffees and shots of espressos. Remembering the order of the student before you, Haechan decides to change his order, just for today (hell, maybe he'll actually like it).

"A large - Americano," Haechan orders, dubiously. You press a few buttons on the screen attached to the cashier on the counter.

"For here or to go?"

"H-here."

"Okay, that'll be $4.79."

Haechan digs his pockets for his wallet, pulling out a five dollar bill. You ring up the bill before grabbing the exact change, holding it out with the receipt. Haechan involuntarily swallows while he grabs the change. As he comes into contact with your hands, his fingers feel like putty. He retracts fast, stuffing his hand into his front pocket to drop the change.

"Your drink will be with you in a moment," you inform him, then calling next. Haechan trudges back to his seat, thankfully still untouched. He removes his hand from his pocket, sure that it is melting on the spot.

Knock it out, you weirdo, Haechan hits the side of his head lightly. He looks down at his notes once more, trying to distract him from that fact that he's found his true love (Mark always says he's way too overdramatic, in which Haechan dramatically reacts by shoving him away).

His mind is filled with information about the British colonial system, when a beige plate with a matching large mug is placed next to his notebooks. Haechan looks up to quickly thank the waiter until he is lost for words once again. His eyes beeline to the cashier and standing behind the counter, taking orders, is Mark. Haechan's eyes return to yours, still as wide as ever.

"Hey, if you don't mind me asking, why did you order an Americano when you usually order a latte?" you wonder, carrying the metal plater to deliver the mug behind your back. Haechan's mouth becomes dry from holding it open for too long.

"Oh - erm - because I just wanted to...try something new, yeah," he answers after regaining his state. "Wait, how did you know?"

"I usually work behind the counter making drinks. But since it is so busy right now, we had to call in more workers, so today I'm a waitress."

"Then why were you behind the counter earlier?"

A faint blush paints the tips of your cheeks but you shift your head so your hair covers it as you peer to the ground. You toy with the platter behind your back, "Mark - he had to get something from the back...so I took over for a few orders."

Haechan isn't sure if you're telling the truth or not, since your voice is so quiet and the bustling cafe isn't helping. But he lets it slide, afraid that if he opens his mouth to interrogate, he might say something embarrassing or uncomfortable.

"Oh well thanks for the coffee," Haechan says instead, holding it up before bringing the rim to his parted lips. It's burning hot, no doubt, but the mixture of espresso and water with barely any milk to diffuse the bitterness causes Haechan's face to twist in a peculiar way. A laugh escapes from your mouth as you use your free hand to cover it (Haechan thought it was adorable). Before you walk back to the counter, Haechan catches a glimpse of your name tag, Y/N.

He'll be sure to remember that for next time.

And sure enough, he does. Haechan frequents the cafe you work at almost every day before and after his classes. He even goes as far as waking up hours before he usually sleeps until, to visit you. With his progressive visits, Haechan gets the chance to talk to you more, getting to know you little by little, and he grows fond of you.

[ Your POV ]

It's a Thursday evening, not many customers as it is the end of spring semester and everyone is home with family or out on vacation. The only people left in the cafe are students taking summer courses, trying to stock up on caffeine in order to finish up assignments and exams. You wipe the empty tables, getting rid of crumbles or coffee spills. Soon enough, the cafe empties out once the clock hits 10 PM, the students packing up and heading back to their dorms or such. You're now alone in the abandoned cafe, not even other employees are working since you're the only one that signed up for the night shift for tonight.

As you mindlessly clean around the shop, you wonder how Haechan is doing (he seems to be on your mind a lot recently). He visited earlier today, around noon, but there appeared to be something bothering him. When you took the seat in front of him and questioned why the long face, he would just brush it off, saying he had a bad day. Hopefully, that is untrue because today is a very special day. You hope that Haechan's mood has turned a full 180 and he's enjoying his day with his loved ones.

After clearing the round tables, you pull out the mop from the back room and drag it across the floor to clean any stains or dust. It's the routine for whoever works the night shifts, to clean up. Though, there are usually more people working to help out. But tonight, it's just you and the whirling of the coffee machines cleaning themselves. The ticking of the clock perched on the far wall continues, 10:52 PM, almost closing time.

You push the large tub of cleaning water and mop back into the break room before hanging up your beige apron. The sound of the opening entrance activates the bell, signaling that someone has entered the cafe.

"Sorry, we are closing in 5 minutes," you inform and turn around to let the customer out, but stop in your tracks as Haechan plops down in his usual seat. His expression is still gloomy, causing your heart to contort in an unpleasant fashion. "Haechan, what are you doing here?"

"A slice of vanilla cake, please," Haechan ignores your question, ordering the dessert with a gravelly and ruffled tone. He places his head on the table, chin resting on his folded arms.

"Cake? Don't you have cake at home?" you ask, but walk behind the counter to grab a slice from the display.

"I don't want to talk about it."

That seems like the go-to phrase of the day, with every question pertaining to his rainy mood, that is the response you are met with. With a sigh, you carefully transfer a slice of vanilla cake onto a plate and set it in front of Haechan. He grabs the small fork provided and just as he is about to dig in, you shout out for him to hold it. Confused, Haechan retreats his fork and watches as you scramble out of your seat in front of him to the counter once again. You dig around in the cubby under the counter where you keep your backpack, pulling out a box and grabbing some things from the drawers as well.

You shuffle back to him, holding the three items behind you back. Haechan raises an eyebrow, a question of 'what' about to spill out of his mouth. But before he can do so, you place the box on the table next to the slice of cake. Haechan's eyes switch from watching you to staring at the box in front of him. It's neatly enveloped in red and gold wrapping paper, a big golden bow taped on top.

"For me?" he asks, a finger pointed at his chest.

You roll your eyes teasingly, "No for the ghost behind you."

"Should I open it now?"

"Up to you."

Haechan reaches for the box, hand on the bow, but sets it down afterward. Your face drops, does he not like it? Is it too much to gift him something even if the two of you only met a few months ago? The beat of your heart matches you breathing, sporadic.

"Sorry, Y/N. Thank you so much for the gift. I really appreciate it. You're the only one who remembers," Haechan voices, though it's faint and full of gloom. He sets the box down, probably planning to open it later (you hope, that is).

"What? No way, I'm sure there's just a misunderstanding," you suggest, but the lack of response tells you to move on. Instead of prying further, you pull out the other two items from behind you. A package of used candles and a matchbox. Delicately, you stick a few of the small candles on the cake before taking a match to light them. Haechan follows you with full glassy eyes, he tries not to cry. You wave the match around to extinguish the fire.

"Happy birthday to you," you sing with a smile that illuminates brighter than the flames on the cake. "Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Haechan...Happy birthday to you!"

You clap gingerly, not wanting to blow out the candles with your movements. A tear rolls down Haechan's eyes before he quickly reaches to wipe it away, acting as if nothing happened. He leans forward with his eye closed, cheeks puffed, about to blow out the candle when you lightly clamp a hand over his mouth.

"You have to make a wish first, silly!"

Haechan scoffs nonchalantly, but the tint of his cheeks give away his cool facade. He closes his eyes once you withdraw your hand. The warm tones of the fire bring out the rich caramel color of Haechan's skin. You think it's beautiful, giving compliments every time the sun rays beam in through the window to kiss his vibrant skin. His shaggy brown hair falls over his forehead, lightly brushing his eyelashes. He opens his eyes, the chocolate-colored orbs gleaming down to blow out the candles. Snapping out of your unexpected trance, you cheer and urge for Haechan to eat the cake or else his wish won't come true.

After Haechan finishes the cake, you clean up the dish and silverware, not wanting your boss to scold you for leaving dirty dishes in the sink before closing the shop. The older boy moves to pay for the cake but you reply that it's your treat. It's his 18th birthday after all, he can't pay for his own cake.

Haechan and you walk side by side back to the dorms in the windy but humid night once you closed up the cafe. The silence is peaceful but there is something off about it as well, it bugs you. Haechan acts normally, but it seems as if there is something in his head that's bothering him. He keeps spacing out (walking into the road when the red stop light is on, missing a turn, almost hitting a stop sign). You have asked what it is that's troubling Haechan today but he doesn't want to share. Yet, you still feel the urge to question it. On one hand, you don't want to upset the latter, especially on his birthday. But on the other, he is already upset and there is a possibility you can make it better.

"Haechan?" you beckon in a hushed tone, even though there is no one out in the street at 11 PM. He hums in response but keeps his eyes trained in front of him on nothing in particular.

"Can you please tell me what's wrong? Why are you so upset? You know it's better to talk about things than to keep them bottled up."

Haechan releases a sigh, head leaning back to gaze up at the night sky, "It's my birthday today."

You wait for him to continue, not knowing what to say as you already know this information. Hence, why you prepared a gift for him. After a lengthy silence, presuming that Haechan is contemplating on whether to let it all out or not, he finally continues.

"But no one remembered," he exhales into the air, "no one except you."

"I'm sure there's a reason behind it. Maybe they texted you but it didn't send, technology can't always be trusted. Or what if they tried to leave a voicemail but your inbox is full or the machine isn't working. Or they tried to send you a gift but it got lost in the mail," you propose, trying to lighten the burden on Haechan's shoulders.

"Y/N...," he begins, his face now staring at you instead of the dark sky, "thank you, really. Thank you for always being there for me. For being here with me. And for remembering my birthday. I really don't know how I deserve someone like you, who is so warmhearted and positive, in my life. But thank you."

"Of course, Haechan. I care about you," you declare tenderly. Haechan stops walking, his arm holding onto yours causing you to stop as well. His eyes glisten, though you don't know if it's from the stars in the sky or of tears. Even when the sun isn't out, his skin still radiates warmth and glow.

"I like you, Y/N," he says without further thought. You're taken aback by his confession and expression, for it's serious with his eyebrows slightly furrowed and his lips tight in a line. Opposite from his appearance, you can't help but smile, fully comprehending his words. High on the rush of happiness, you swing your arms around Haechan's neck, pulling the latter closer to your body. Up close, his face is even more flawless, his eyes large, his nose round, and his lips plump and glossy. Though, you can't let your temptation for a kiss overrule your consciousness, so you lean to the side and plant a short kiss on his rosy cheek.

Haechan's eyes somehow grow wider, but before you can pull away, your lips are locked with his as an arm snakes around your waist to enclose you in his frame. His lips are as puffy and buttery as you imagined, the kiss chaste and soft. You feel as if the stars in the sky have stopped moving, the planet has stopped rotating, and everything around you has come to a halt. A charge of electricity runs up your spine, warming up your body. You imagine this feeling only happens in fiction, having read it multiple times, but this new experience is one you never want to forget. Haechan breaks away to your displease, eyes still closed, but he doesn't move far as he rests his forehead on yours.

"Would you look at that, half of my wish has already come true," the words leaving Haechan's mouth like silk. You lean your head back to look at him in the eye.

"What's the other half?"

"Can't tell you."

"Oh right, or else it won't come true!"

"I don't think it will anyway, but I'm more than content with what I've got right now."

"Oh shush, you never know, the Universe works in mysterious ways."

You peer up at the sky, the stars shining a lot brighter than before. You wonder if this is what it's like to be in love (though you don't really know what true love is), with everything becoming brighter and clearer. Haechan locks his hand with yours and continues walking back to the University dormitories.

"Can you stay with me tonight? I need comfort, we can watch movies - and cuddle?" Haechan asks, swaying your laced hands back and forth.

"Of course!"

It doesn't take long before reaching the large building of dorm rooms. Both male and female students share the same building but are located on different floors. Though, the RA doesn't really care who goes into who's room as long as no one is dying. With your hands still enveloped in his bigger ones, he reaches into his pocket for his keys, fumbling around before unlocking the front door and revealing his dark empty dorm room. Once he closes and locks the door, the lights flash on with a collective scream of "Happy 18th Birthday Haechan!"

Haechan drops his keys as it flies around in the air. He whips about his feet, meeting face to face with his friends, a birthday banner being held up in the middle. One of the guys walks towards Haechan, putting a party coned hat on him, while Mark snaps a picture of Haechan's reaction with a Polaroid. Haechan's death tight grip on your hand finally loosens as tears threaten to breach.

The other half of his birthday wish has come true.

[cheeseeatingtrashmonster]

Coffee and Stew

GabeNath Week day 3: Role Swap.

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Read the whole week on AO3

ONE

Gabriel ignored Nathalie's tears. He had to focus on his goal. Emilie was out there somewhere, and he would find her. This woman and her feelings were just a roadblock along the way. He would overcome that roadblock just like he had so many others. Nothing could stop him.

The crying ended quickly enough and they worked quietly until five pm came around.

"Show me how to access the lair," Nathalie said, powering down her computer.

"We usually keep working until-"

"I don't care," Nathalie said. "When your Nathalie is back she can make up the time we lose fixing your mistake. I'm sure she'd be glad to."

"You don't even know her," Gabriel said. Nathalie had been loyal to him for ages, who was this impostor to criticize one of the people on whom he most relied?

"She's working for a supervillain terrorist. I fight supervillain terrorists. Sounds like she's exactly the type of person I know."

"She's loyal," Gabriel said. "She's helpful and skilled. You are a single-minded, pushy woman who only seems to see things in black and white."

"I see shades of grey," she said. "However, supervillain terrorists fighting children clearly fall into the 'black' category."

"I never said they were children," he said.

"A four second search online filled in that bit of information you left out." She gestured for him to hurry up. "Lair. Now."

Gabriel sighed and showed her how to use the painting to access the secret tunnel. She called him dramatic again.

/*****/

TWO

Nathalie found herself walking in a small residential area. Half the houses seemed abandoned and the sidewalks and streets were in disrepair. She didn't get far before it dawned on her that she was living in the world she had seen in those videos of battles. If Ladybug was on the dark side, then there was no Lucky Charm to fix everything. She didn't see a single other person outside, no cars drove down the road. Nothing but a few houses with lights on gave any indication that there was life around her. It was eerie and soon enough she found herself turning back.

"I have nowhere else to go," she said when Adrien and Penny looked up as she entered the living room.

“I followed you,” Adrien blurted as she sat in the chair he had previously occupied. “It’s not exactly safe outside, and you’re new to things, and while most people around here like Nathalie and know she can take care of herself, I don’t know if you can take care of yourself, so… So I followed you until you turned back.”

“I’m sorry you had to go to the trouble,” Nathalie said. “I apologize for my… unnecessary display of emotion.”

“Wow,” Penny said shaking her head. “That time you sounded just like her.”

“Yeah,” Adrien said, shifting in his seat and staring at his knees.

“You saw her as your mother?” Nathalie asked. She shouldn’t have spoken, she knew that, but she had always had a weakness for Adrien. It wasn’t hard to picture being a parent to him instead of a vague occasional guardian figure, but to picture him seeing her that way? It didn’t compute.

(Because if it did, she might want it, and never stop wanting it.)

“See. Present tense,” he said. She nodded for him to continue. “She took care of everyone when Mama got sick, and after she died. I actually started calling her Mom before Dad even realized he was falling in love with her. Usually, I’m the last one to realize things.”

“My Adrien can be a bit oblivious as well. He still hasn’t caught on that my world’s Marinette likes him.” She allowed herself a small shake of her head at some of the obvious signs Adrien had missed.

Penny laughed. “This Adrien didn’t realize either for quite a while. But having to work together to fight for our lives and our people makes it harder to hide things like that.” She placed her hands on either side of her pregnant belly. “My little family is another example of that.”

“And Nathalie and Gabriel?” The words felt so wrong.

“They started dating a few months before the first attack.”

She nodded. “I don’t really know what to do now. I don’t plan to wait around for rescue, but I’m fairly sure I don’t know enough magic to even replicate what happened today, and I’m not the wartime strategist of which it sounds like you’re now in need. I’m used to following orders, not giving them.”

“What was your Gabriel working on?” Penny asked. She stood and beckoned the other two to follow her to the kitchen. “We have to start dinner, the crowd will arrive soon, and we’ll have to fill them in.”

“Magical power enhancement,” she said. She relaxed when she saw the well organized kitchen with charts on the cupboard doors outlining what meals were planned and what ingredients needed for each meal. She busied herself with preparing the stew while Adrien worked on the salad and Penny put a couple loaves of bread in the oven.

“We considered that, but it was too much risk,” Adrien said. He froze, knife poised above a tomato. “I didn’t mean… I’m sure you weren’t-”

“It was obviously too much risk, seeing as I am here and your mother is not. The Gabriel in my world is a fool, but I’ve been by his side a very long time.”

“So, what’s your superhero team like?” Penny asked. “You were surprised Ladybug and Chat Noir weren’t heroes, so I assume those two, plus Gabriel’s Hawkmoth. Do you have one?”

“One?” Nathalie asked. Her mind was racing through multiple pipelines of processing, but warning lights were already going off. These people thought she was on the side of the heroes. These people were fighting their world’s version of Hawkmoth. She was Hawkmoth’s (evil Hawkmoth’s) right-hand man, confidant, and coffee-fetcher. She couldn’t let them know. She had just said that she had nowhere else to go.

“A miraculous.”

“Me?” Nathalie asked, almost slicing her finger instead of the chicken she was adding to the stew. “No. Absolutely not.”

Adrien and Penny shared a look. She was getting the feeling there were secrets on both sides.

There was a knock at the door.

"Well, are you ready to introduce yourself to a lot of people that are going to be very confused?" Penny asked, setting down the last place setting on the large dining room table in the next room.

"I suppose it's necessary. My double seems to have led a much higher profile life than I."

"Everyone will be nice and want to help you," Adrien said.

That's exactly the problem, Nathalie thought. /*****/

ONE

"What do you mean 'there are no lab notes'?"

"What could that possibly mean other than the obvious?" Gabriel asked, resisting the urge to bang his head on the lab table in front of him.

"Fine, you didn't take lab notes. Don't tell me the secretary didn't."

"Don't call her that."

"Why not? With the way you try to scare me into submission, she can't be anything but a helpful robot to you."

"Nathalie Sancoeur is the most loyal, steadfast woman I have met in my life."

"Then where are her notes?"

Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose, nudging his glasses out of the way. "Were I to guess, either in this room or in a locked folder on her tablet or phone."

"I haven't found her phone since I've been here so I have to assume that went with her," Nathalie said, pulling the tablet from the bag she had set against the wall. "Let's hope it's here."

"Her personal tablet," Gabriel said. "She would never use a company owned device for this."

Nathalie searched the bag again and found a second tablet. She was signed in and found the secret folder in a matter of seconds.

"You seem so dissimilar," Gabriel said. "And then you can access her tablet, protected by multiple passwords with no issues."

"I'm just lucky she didn't protect it with a finger scan." After a bit of searching, Nathalie sighed. "You idiot," she said, not even looking up. "This translation isn't complete. I can spot three mistranslations immediately. I need a fresh copy of the original text." She held out her hand like she expected him to place the original spell there immediately.

"Then go make a photocopy," Gabriel said.

She looked up at him finally. "Was I not clear? You caused this. I am doing you a favor by being your assistant during the day. The absolute least you can do to help clean up your own mess is to assist me in piecing back together what you did wrong. Now go get me a fresh copy, some coffee, and order us dinner."

Gabriel spluttered. Nathalie set the tablet down parallel to the edge of the workbench and stood. She grabbed Gabriel by the back of his collar and wrenched him backwards off his stool. She yanked hard enough to cut off his breathing for a moment.

"I'll put it another way," she said in his ear as he struggled to get his feet under him. "Assist me and I let you keep your miraculous."

She released him with a shove forward and he staggered, catching himself on the workbench.

Gabriel turned to face her and saw... nothing. No expression on her face. He opened his mouth, not sure what he was about to say and she raised her hand.

"Don't speak. Just go."

Gabriel left, fuming.

Nathalie had found the lab notes of the steps her doppelganger and Evil Gabriel had taken earlier that day. She sent them to the printer, planning to highlight and annotate them once she had a proper translation. She started taking notes and looking up references for translation. Finally, her multiple language degrees were getting use. She loved being the head strategist of the rebellion, but it had been a while since she'd had a puzzle like this to crack. She hated that she was away from the war, her people, her son, her family. She hated that she was staring in her husband's face and seeing just another Ladybug or Chat Noir. She hated so much about this situation, but a puzzle like this? It was the hunt for the Butterfly and Peacock Miraculouses all over again. The part where they had to dig and research and hunt down answers, anyway.

Gabriel returned with two mugs of coffee and muttered something about dinner being on the way. He had also brought the papers she had printed, so she elected to keep quiet instead of verbally berating him again.

"This is awful," she said of her sip of coffee. "How does your Nathalie take her coffee?"

"Oh, I brought cream and sugar if you wanted it," he said, pulling a few packets out of his pocket.

"You don't know how she takes her coffee?" she asked, dumping in creamer.

"I need to check on some things in the office," Gabriel said. "And dinner is probably only a minute or two away."

"That's a 'no'," she muttered, but absorbed herself in her work again.

In the office, Gabriel wondered if he should know the coffee order of the woman who spent sixty to a hundred hours a week with him.

/*****/

TWO

Some of the people who arrived for dinner figured out she wasn't Nathalie before dinner, some didn't notice anything amiss until she stood to introduce herself. She gave a summary of what had happened, letting them come to the conclusion that she and Gabriel were fighting for good as well.

"Will you stay here?" Sabine Cheng asked. "If not, we have a few places."

"Please stay," Adrien said, barely above a whisper.

"I'll stay then," she said.

"You're not a strategist, you said that," Mr. Kubdel said. "Will you wield the peacock, or will we need two replacements now?"

Nathalie turned to Adrien and Penny, who were cringing.

"We hadn't told her that part yet," Penny said.

"She was Paon," Nathalie said out loud as she realized it. She couldn't react, there were too many people. The thought of wielding a miraculous... it felt wrong. Besides, they would need an experienced fighter to participate in the battles she had seen.

"That's fine," Mr. Kubdel said. "It might actually be easier for me to find a pair together than to find someone compatible with you and the butterfly miraculous at once."

The dinner fell into a more normal meal after that, with pockets of conversation around the table. Nathalie appreciated that she wasn't required to say much for the rest of the night because she got to observe Adrien. It was a tight fit for so many people around one table, but Adrien stayed in physical contact with Marinette the whole meal. He smiled and laughed and talked to everyone and checked on Nathalie every few minutes.

This is the boy he was meant to be.

She decided to excuse herself from the rest of dinner.

[echelonlab-blog]

Bound By Ink -- Chapter 51

Disclaimer: Fiction.

Warnings: None

Tagging: @hazeleyedleto @msroxyblog @letojokerownsme @miss-shannanigans @snewsome756   @maliciousalishious   @nikkitasevoli@meghan12151977@sanellv@ambolton@bradlea23@spillinginkwithlove@alexis7215@dezmarz@pezziecoyote@whoistheprettiest@avaj99@iridescxntsolitude@pheenixpeterson@guccilowell@blondiefrommars@rowen1976@phoebehalliwell1984@thathipstaninja@darthjokerisyourfather@letsbemybatman @prettymisc@lylabell2013@mandyglam@pandaliciouz@just-me-obsessing@echelon-1969@carolinapb-me@marilyndioncre​

   Reckless Ink was closed on Mondays. Exceptions were sometimes made for prescheduled appointments and special events, but it was generally the one day of the week you could be sure everyone had off. Of course it was the one that Nadia chose when concocting her brilliant plan.

   Nine a.m. found the entire crew of us – Shannon, Jayce, and me, and Nadia, Curtis, Rick, and Thor...  even Jen and Avery who only worked part-time, assembled at Mark's door with coffee, donuts and cleaning implements in hand. Mark answered our knock still in his pajamas, rubbing sleepily at his eyes, and I felt a strong tug of nostalgia-fueled affection at the sight of him. We had shared a lot together, and maybe this Stephanie episode wasn't his proudest moment, but I would always love Mark. He was, underneath everything, one of the most decent people I had ever known and it was his good example that was part of the reason Jayce was the wonderful kid he was. Mark had learned a hard lesson in an ugly way. I was glad to be part of helping him pick up the pieces.

   “What is all this?” Mark asked he scratched his beard and looked at the group of us assembled on his porch.

   “Your friends,” Nadia explained. “We're here to help you get back on your feet. That's what friends do.”

   We pushed past him and started setting things up, and I got my first real look at the damage Stephanie had caused, well the physical damage anyway. I could see Mark had done some picking up but that did nothing to disguise the spray paint on the walls or the missing equipment or smashed cabinets. I wondered if she had trashed the backyard too. This beach house had been Mark's dream, he had talked about getting a place since Jayce was small, one with lots of wood and windows, a bedroom with a view of the ocean, and a big patio he could barbeque on while having some beers and listening to the surf. We had come to view the house together three years ago, and while I was standing in that bedroom, the one with the beautiful view of the ocean, the one that was Mark's dream, I had realized that I didn't share that dream with him anymore. We had filed for divorce a month later and the next day he went back and made an offer on this place. This was the house where I realized our marriage was over. It had always made me a little sad every time I stepped inside it. Now I just felt angry and cheated on Mark's behalf. This was his dream, and nothing about it seemed to go right. It didn't seem fair.

   “You guys don't have to do this,” he protested as Nadia started directing people, pressing a cup of coffee into Mark's hand before fishing out the breakfast she had brought for him.

   “Of course we don't boss,” Thor said. “And you didn't have to let me take those three weeks off with pay when my daughter was born and in the NICU with that infection.”

   “And you didn't have to let me use your car to go take my finals after mine dropped its transmission,” Jen added.

   “And you didn't have to bail my ass out of jail after that DUI and then sit me down and make me understand how much the drinking was fucking up my life,” Curtis pointed out. I gave him a hug. That was a particularly ugly point in Curtis's life that he had put well behind him and he didn't like to bring it up.

   “And you didn't have to keep forgiving me every time I fucked up either, but somehow you always did. Still do. And I think you should know how grateful for that I am.” Nadia gave him a big hug and I think if Mark was the blushing type he would have. “You've done so much for everyone else. Let us do this thing for you now.”

   Mark nodded and quickly excused himself, stepping out of the big French doors in his living room to go stand on his patio and presumably regain his composure. I gave him a minute before stepping out to join him.

   “You okay there, Bossman?” I asked him, using a nickname I hadn't invoked since we had been married.

   Mark nodded but I could see he was still choked up. “I don't deserve this. Not after the way I behaved. Not after the way I abandoned Jayce.”

   “Hey....” I placed my palm against his back, rubbing in circles. “We all fuck up eventually. Yours was a long time coming so I guess it got to be super epic. Jayce may still be mad but he will forgive you eventually. It's going to be okay. We've got you.”

   “Thanks. I don't deserve your forgiveness either but … “ he shook his head. “Thanks anyway.”

      We spent the morning just sorting and cleaning out broken things, making a list of what was damaged or had just disappeared altogether. After stopping for sandwiches we got back to work, the gang dividing into teams to tackle different repainting projects. I watched Shannon setting up power tools in the backyard as he prepared to cut wood to repair the built-ins in the dining room that had been smashed to splinters by Stephanie's exit. Damn, that man could look hot doing anything. I watched him for a few minutes, a satisfied smile on my face. When I looked up I saw Mark, who had also paused from pulling some broken baseboards up to watch Nadia painting one dining room wall. She looked adorable in overalls, with a bandanna covering her braids and a smudge of paint on her cheek, and the sort of dazed look Mark was giving her was probably the same one I had just been wearing as I watched Shannon bending over that sawhorse. I couldn't help but chuckle. He was moving right along.

   By the time we were ready for dinner, the bulk of the work had been done and I was pretty proud of our little crew. Nadia grabbed her phone to order something to eat.

   “At least let me buy everyone dinner,” Mark told her, trying to reach for her phone.

   “Nuh-uh,” Nadia said, quickly turning away from him. “This is part of the surprise.” She had an extra large grin on her face as she told whoever was on the other end of the call that it was dinner time. I wondered what that was about, she hadn't shared anything with me beyond our cleanup plans.

   A few minutes later Jeff, the guy that lived next door to Nadia and usually babysat her dogs showed up, getting out of his work truck with a big box in his arms and Banjo and Buckley, Nadia's two beloved Keeshonds bounding after him. The giant dark nosed balls of fluff spotted their mama and came dashing across the yard, nearly knocking her over in their enthusiasm. She giggled as she sank down to pet them, and it was almost like seeing a completely different Nadia, an unguarded version of her that was simply in the moment rather than calculating how to survive the next blow that life was going to deal her. I had gotten to know her quite a bit better recently and I was realizing how desperately she needed just one person to stay in her life. It was no small wonder she had thrown herself into repairing these relationships after screwing up so badly, when a lot of people would have run away in shame. We were all she had.

   Jeff sat the box down on the dining room table and the smell of grilled meat products immediately filled the space, overwhelming the odor of new paint and freshly cut wood. He exchanged a few words with Thor and then he and Curtis headed back out to the truck, unlocking the back and disappearing inside. A few moments later they reemerged from its interior, carrying a gigantic sofa between them. I recognized it at once. It was the one that had previously sat in my mother's living room.

   “What is going on?” Mark asked.

   Nadia beamed. “I've been calling around for the last few days, finding things to replace what got broken or stolen. We took up a collection and we didn't have much, but a lot of people gave us things they weren't using anymore either. We'll have you set up as good as new before you go to bed. On your new bed,” she finished with a giggle. I was really impressed. She had gone all out for Mark. Especially if she somehow talked Barbara out of that steamship of a sofa she had been so fond of.

   Mark stood in stunned silence shaking his head and trying to look stoic as the guys filed past him with item after item, refilling his house and repairing what damage they could. I could tell he was deeply moved by all of this, no matter how neutral he tried to keep his expression. When Nadia started digging through the box to set out dinner his resolve broke and he threw his arms around her, hugging her tightly while she spluttered until she gave in and hugged him back too. The hopeful look on her face filled in any additional blanks. I had to get these two together somehow. They needed each other.

[kaishiros-memo]

Revelations

Part two of my writing stuff for post-who killed markiplier, but this can be read as a stand alone too I guess.

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

They had awoken only to be met with the remains of their prison. Broken glass fragments, some of it covered in some inky black substance. Sitting up shakily, a feeling of guilt and regret soon pools into their very being.

Oh god...what have I done?

Clutching at their chest, they feel the slightest hum, and cringe. They actually did it. They did something they swore they wouldn't do.

Oh gods...I'm so sorry.

They suddenly feel a sharp pain, as if an oncoming headache was plaguing them. Holding their head with their other hand, they wonder:

Who were they apologizing to again?

It was...somebody. Somebody important to me. They figured, looking up towards the familiar bleak ceiling. It was decaying, the paint had been chipped off slowly over time while the growth of ivy slowly took its place. At least one thing was certain.

It was no longer monochrome.

The world was colorful again. Their vision, movements, everything, was finally in their control again. Grabbing the top of the dresser, they slowly get up to their own two feet. Glancing around the abandoned mansion, a sudden realization had hit them.

But they had no evidence to confirm it yet.

Guess I should look around first. I need a good distraction.

Running a hand through their hair, they sigh, trying to steady their nerves. Treading through the empty, yet familiar hall, a feeling of fear runs through them as they stare up at the balcony. Looking down toward the ground, patches of dried blood could be seen, and had the eternal witness gulp.

How unsettling.

They make a mental note to avoid that balcony when they decide to check out the top floor. The kitchen, like most of the other rooms, were empty, and covered in dust. When they had opened a cupboard, a giant cobweb was what remained. That and a few spiders. When glancing over to the marble countertop, they remember seeing a machine there. A creepy garden gnome-esque camera. Another man was in here, waving a knife at their face whilst yelling. Shuddering they quickly move on to the basement, where a wine cellar was. The wine cellar, surprisingly, held lots of wine but the atmosphere was cold. Unwelcoming.

They recall a moment when someone-

A butler perhaps?

-was here to tell them something important, but was interrupted by...a broken bottle? Kneeling down, they inspected the ground carefully. Only to see nothing except a light blotch of purple.

Guess he missed a spot.

Retracting their hand, another inquiry pops into their head.

What was he going to tell me? He never did finish what he was going to say.

Getting up, they turn back toward the stone staircase.

Guess I'll never know.

Heading up the stone stairs, they walk through a hall to reach a looming-overhead wooden door. A faint recollection of a man with a snapback hat was leading them here to look for information. No, not information...clues. Evidence. To clear the air of a-

No.

Startling, a sudden feeling of unease settles in their chest.

Stop. Don't even think about it.

Shaking off the thought, they enter the room. To their surprise, it remained untouched. Well...seemed untouched. The room was a complete mess, but it wasn't empty as the other rooms. Though the room felt a bit off, as if something was missing from it. Lightly stepping around the room, they first open high-class closets and drawers. An array of shirts awaited them, and they grab one before hesitating. They look down toward their current bloody shirt, then to the clean one with a grimace.

Apologies, but I seem to need this more than you seem to...whoever owned this. They would change later, in a more...suitable place. As changing in someone else's abandoned bedroom doesn't seem like the most polite idea, even if no one was there.

Whoever’s room this is, they must've been the owner of the mansion. Everything in here simply screams high-class and money.

The table at the far-end of the room catches their eye. It was empty. Considering that the room was messy as all hell, and every surface had something on it, an empty table was the most suspicious thing in the room.

This is the thing that's throwing me off...what was previously on here?

Brushing their fingers lightly on the wooden surface, they delve back into their broken thoughts. Thinking hard, they try and recall something, anything of importance. Nothing but a dull ache rings back and a sigh of frustration escapes them. A faint glimmer of light suddenly shimmers from their peripheral vision. Turning to the right, they stare at the golden shine of a stamp partially hidden from its place in a drawer. Getting a bit closer to it, they realize it was an unopened envelope.

Fancy.

Slipping it out of the drawer, they peak at its contents, only to find nothing.

I should have known it wouldn't be this simple. They sigh, sliding open the drawer.

Jewelry, money, a broken monocle? A pocket watch...is that a golden toothbrush?

Placing the empty envelope into the drawer, they hastily shut it. Checking around the floor of the bed and drawer, they find a half-crumpled sheet of paper hidden by a dirty shirt.

Dear Mark, I hope you have been well...it has been awhile hasn't it?...seems just like yesterday when we were toddlers running around...but now you're a star and William is a soldier-turned-colonel...Celine has been well I hope? I haven't seen much of her but I know you're keeping her happy...heard you even bought your own mansion as well!...University has been quite difficult here in the city, but I have pulled through. Made a new friend as well...Y/n is their name...they are aiming high, to become a lawyer or possibly even more...and I believe they will spark a revolution within the Justice system...calm, quiet, but has a fiery passion to find out the truth...you should see the amount of notes they write...it's quite astonishing!...the both of you would get along gladly...perhaps one day that can be arranged...write so-

The rest of the letter’s ink is smudged and unreadable, but they got the general gist of it. Though, that name…

Y/n...Y/n...that's my name isn't it?

They exhale slowly, letting the little fragments of knowledge they have slowly come together.

Yes. That was my name. Mark...he was the famous actor. The one who-

Another jolt of pain flares through their mind. Swallowing down the lump of unease forming, they fold up the letter and pocket it. After another thought, they open the drawer and pocket the envelope as well. Once they find the bathroom, they quickly change out of the stained shirt and into the cleaner one. Looking up, they see their reflection, and immediately freeze up. Their right eye...was no longer there. In it's place was a void, with jagged edges akin to a broken mirror surrounding it.

A scar.

Gritting their teeth, they violently dig around the drawers within the bathroom. Once they spot a nice white roll of bandages, they quickly wrapped up the unsightly wound and checked the mirror again. It was not visible...for now.

Time to leave. No more time to waste staying here.

They grimace, ignoring the disgusting feeling the air and their beating chest seem to give. Even as they walk down the steps of the grand staircase, they could see it. The shadows loom over them, with sinister intentions, but are unable to act upon them. Even as they leave through the door, that feeling stayed with them. They shudder, unable to shake off the feelings of dread and nausea, but continue onward upon the old beaten path. 

Walking and walking and walking, under the path of moonlight. It must've been hours until they reached a city, as dawn broke through the skyline the moment they saw buildings and cars. The dreams they had within the manor displayed similar architecture and technology, but it was still breathtaking to witness in real life. Watching as bikers and runners go on by, they spot a plastic box filled with newspapers. ‘Free’ was plastered directly onto the handle, so they pull open the box and help themselves to one. The headline of the first article was seemingly ridiculous, nothing new, but the picture...

Strange...did newspapers always have colored images?

They wonder, but a feeling of sudden spike of anxiety overtook them. They fumble and flip through the newspaper. Politicians, musicians, actors, all of whom they did not recognize or recall. Skimming through each article for any shred of sense only left them in more of a panicked daze, their breathing uneven and their vision hazy. Once flipping back to the front page, they glance over to today’s date. And suddenly, they couldn't breathe at all.

It’s the year...2018?

It had been nearly a century since they had been trapped.

-----------

This was pretty fun to make, not gonna lie. Though there may be a few boring bits here and there, I’d chock this one up as a win. A familiar face may appear next, I wonder who it could be? More writing soon, I hope.

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Posturing for Posturings Sake

Posturing for Posturings Sake Fandom: AoT/SnK Pairing: YumiKuri Summary: Modern AU. Ymir has a run-in with her ex. Thankfully a cute stranger steps in to help diffuse the situation. AN: I originally planned to make this a slow burn story involving complicated family politics and somewhat questionable/manipulative behaviors but after I finished this I just never worked on anything else for it. Oh well. Part of my Spooky Snippets story dump. For more details please see this post.

He must not have been thinking when he also invited Nadia to the event.

She didn’t care that Jean was still on good terms with her ex-girlfriend – the same ex that had cheated on her and smashed her heart to pieces eleven months four days nine hours and seventeen minutes ago but who was counting really – because that was his business. So long as he didn’t try talking to her about her she didn’t care. After all, she was getting over it. The less she thought about Nadia, the easier it was for her to focus on things properly, and Jean had been doing a pretty good job about being sympathetic to her situation.

It was just Ymir’s luck that a gesture done in genuine consideration for a friend would blow up in her face.

Jean had finally got into one of those swanky art shows that he raved about all the time and Ymir had been happy for him. The guy busted his ass trying to perfect his technique and listed to every bit of advice he could get, pursuing critiques like a dog chased a bone. She had a lot of respect for someone who could throw themselves that deeply into a passion. When Jean had told her about it, he explained that he was allowed to invite a handful of his friends to the event and he really wanted her to be there for him. “I know that stuff like this really isn’t your thing, but it would mean a lot if you’d come,” He had said with a pleading half-smile, a rare moment where his usual mask of confidence slipped away. And because of his transparency, despite her not being found of black-tie events, she agreed to dress in her best and see to it he got his due recognition.

She had only been at the event for a little over five minutes, seeking out one of the champagne-toting servers, when she and Nadia spot one another.

“Ymir, is that you?” The other called out eagerly, fast approaching, before the other woman could fully register what had happened. Ymir briefly considered making a break for it but abandoned that due to her being in heels. Nadia stopped just in front of her – far too comfortable a distance given their past – and looked her up and down curiously. “Wow, you look wonderful!” Since it was a higher end art show, the dress code was that of a cocktail hour and Ymir had gotten all dolled up for it. She’d gone and bought a new dress to wear just for the event; a simple but tasteful little spaghetti strapped burgundy dress with a floral pattern embroidered along the torso. She did buy the dress on clearance, admittedly, because there was no way she was going to shell out nearly 100 bucks on a dress she was only going to wear once but was still aiming to turn a few heads. Maybe she’d even snuggle up with a pretty little socialite or something for the night.

An uncomfortable knot settled square in her throat as she looked down at Nadia, any hope of finding someone else to keep her warm fading, but she forced on a small smile. “Thanks. You clean up pretty nice yourself,” She said, struggling to force some enthusiasm into her tone. She didn’t really want to be nice with Nadia. She really just wanted to call the other out on all her bullshit – specifically on how she let Ymir waste three years of her life on a relationship that ended in devastation – but this wasn’t about her and Nadia and the issues between them. This whole thing was supposed to be about Jean and his success, so she decided to put forth the effort to play nice.

“It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other. I mean, after… Well, you know,” Nadia said, nervousness and uncertainty creeping into her tone. Ymir’s fists tightened at her side and she wished she could have said something snide - something mean-spirited and heinous that would assure Nadia never approached her again – but knew she’d have to restrain herself. Jean would be mortified and Marco would lecture her is she caused a scene by flipping her lid.

“Yeah, that kinda tends to happen after you break up with someone,” Ymir said, keeping her tone as level and indifferent as possible. She looked off to the side, hoping to spot Marco or Jean or maybe even Connie milling about somewhere to have an excuse to slip away, but comes up short on that front. She does spot a cute little blonde standing off to the side, chatting with some guy Ymir recognized as one of Jean’s artist pals, and for a moment their eyes lock. She’s cute like a living doll with the biggest, brightest blue eyes Ymir’s ever seen, but she is not any of Ymir’s friends and what little hope she’d been clinging to becomes a noose around her neck. She turned back to Nadia and cleared her throat. “So, how are things for you and Heidi? Going good, I take it?”

Nadia’s smile faltered at the question and she started fidgeting with her nails; years of intimacy having taught Ymir that it was a tell that something was bothering her. “Oh, well, she actually dumped me a little while after we split up. Turns out she was only interested because of the whole allure of stepping out with someone that already had a lover,” Her tone was one of disappointment and pain. If Ymir wasn’t a spiteful creature by nature she might feel bad for the other woman. The other shifted a bit closer, a hopeful half-smile turning up on her lips, and dread stirred back up in Ymir, knowing what was coming next. “A-Actually, I was kinda wondering-!”

“Ah, there you are, love,” The new voice is sweet and delicate, causing both women to turn their attention from one another. It was the cute blonde Ymir’s eyes had locked with a moment before. The girl giggled and shifted closer, gently looping one of her arms through Ymir’s and leaning against. “Sorry I kept you waiting. I just really needed to talk with Reiner about that sculptor I commissioned for the office.” She looks at Ymir expectantly, one of her gloved hands gently tracing shapes along Ymir’s upper arm.

Ymir wasn’t normally prone to public displays of affection; or, rather, that was what Nadia had told her when she dumped her ass almost a year ago. She liked cuddles and snuggling up just as much as the next person but she preferred it be in the privacy and comfort of her own flat. She glanced down briefly at the blonde, about to call her bluff, when one gloved finger tapped twice in the same spot, trying to get her attention. Ymir tilted her head slightly, hoping it was enough of an indicator to proceed with whatever she was thinking. “You aren’t mad that I left you on your own, are you?” Blondie asked aloud, clearly aiming to distract Nadia from her movements, while tracing out the words “Play along” on Ymir’s arm.

Oh. Oh! Oh! Ymir chuckled lightly and shifted closer to the other, now fully aware of her plan, settling one arm around her petite waist. “Well, I was a little at first, but then Nadia came over to keep me company while I was waiting, so I guess I’ll let it go this time,” Ymir said with a dismissive wave of her free hand.

Nadia looked between them, her half-smile gone and replaced with an uncomfortable grimace. “Ah… Jean didn’t mention you met someone,” Nadia said quietly.

“Well, it’s only been two months since we started seeing each other exclusively. I was kinda worried that Jean would make a big thing about it since it’s been a while since I’ve been in an actual relationship,” Ymir explained with a shrug, watching Blondie from the corner of her eye. Her smile, previously seeming like nothing but sugar and calories, had developed a small quirk at the edges that harkened more toward dark chocolate. Something about the false sweetness to her had Ymir curious as to what was really going on in the mop of curled golden ringlets. “Oh, where are my manners? Darling, this is Nadia Young. I believe I’ve mentioned her before, right?”

Blondie hums thoughtfully at her words, tapping her chin gently in thought. “The name sounds… Vaguely familiar,” She said with an indifferent shrug of her own, before offering her free hand to Nadia, “but regardless, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Historia Reiss.”

Nadia and Ymir both balked at this, recognizing the name instantly. The Reiss family was an affluent and success family known for their various hotel chains across the world, with other interests including real estate ventures and a few five star restaurants in France. Nadia reached out and timidly shook the others hand, the horrors of how greatly outclassed she was showing clearly on her face. “Historia Reiss! My, I’ve heard a lot about you, but I never thought you’d attend something like this! Or date someone like Ymir. How did you two meet, by chance?” She quizzed.

“Hopefully I do what you’ve heard justice,” Historia said with a small wink. She then leaned closer to Ymir, looking up at her and fluttering her eyelashes with a love-struck look on her face. “And we met through Jean and my dear friend Reiner, actually. You see, Reiner had borrowed some paints from Jean for a piece he was working on, and Jean needed them back for a painting of his own. Since the two of them were too busy to actually make the exchange, they asked us to meet up and handle it for them, respectively. We ended up meeting for coffee, starting chatting each other up, and things just sort of went from there.”

“Funny how things work out like that, huh?” Ymir hummed back, leaning down to gently kiss Historia’s forehead. She figured something small like that wouldn’t bother the other woman too much, considering how she had approached Ymir. Historia giggled and gently ducked into her shoulder, feigning bashful at the innocent act.

“I… I see. Well, I’m really happy for you two. I’m glad you found someone you really click with, Ymir,” Nadia said, her voice cracking a bit at the end. There were tears starting to form at the corner of her eyes but she blinked them away, plastering on a watery smile. “It was great meeting you, Historia. Excuse me.” She said before turning and quickly scampering off towards the women’s wash room.

Ymir snickered, waiting until she was out of sight, before looking down at Historia. “Well aren’t you just a sly young lady,” She hummed, tone mostly amused but also a bit of gratitude creeping in.

Historia smirked back up at her – a stark contrast to her smile but somehow much more fitting on her pretty little face – and calmly started looking through her small purse. “Do you smoke?” She asked while pulling out a pack and a lighter.

“Holy shit, you’re a Goddess among mortals,” Ymir gasped lightly, shifting and carefully leading the other back outside.

Historia tittered at her comment. “I thought that I would have already earned that title by coming to your rescue,” She pointed out calmly.

There was nobody else outside but that felt better. It was a nice evening – a light breeze but not chilly enough to require a coat – and the moon was full and high on the sky, giving light even to areas where there were no lamps. Historia opened the pack, offering and lighting Ymir’s up before going for her own. “Speaking of which, why did you come over to me? Especially with that whole act in mind?” She asked after taking a drag off her cigarette.

Historia blew out a long, faint stream of smoke before answering. “Because when you looked at me I could see how freaked out you were. I know exactly what your eyes and your stance meant because I’ve been in those kinds of situations. I’m not the kind that can just leave a lovely damsel such as you to the mercy of cruel beasts so I took up arms and faced the dragon down. Consider me your knight in amethyst armor, as it were,” Historia said, curtseying a bit and indicating the deep purple halt dress she wore. She paused in rising back up to hold a portion of the knee length skirt up to examine it more closer. “Or perhaps this is actually eggplant? I have no idea what color this is, honestly; I just had my assistant pick me a dress since she’s usually got pretty good fashion sense.”

“From what little I know about colors from Jean, I’m almost certain that’s amethyst,” Ymir said before taking another hit from her cigarette. She flicked some ash from the end after exhaling the smoke. “So you know Jean?”

Historia held up one hand and waved it back and forth slightly. “I know of Jean. Reiner seems to have a lot of respect for him so he’s been mentioned a couple times. From what Reiner says, he sounds like a fine enough guy; a little pretentious, but not bad,” She said.

“Oh, he’s a lot pretentious. He takes his art very seriously,” Ymir laughed.

“Oh, don’t they always. I swear, sometimes Reiner drives me crazy with that nonsense. It’s always ‘my creative process’ this and ‘you just do not understand, Tori,’ that,” She scoffed, rolling her eyes a bit.

Ymir laughed, thinking of how many times similar things had come from Jean’s mouth to her. She hummed lightly, still chuckling for a bit, while staring down at the cigarette between her fingers. “Thanks, by the way. For stepping between Nadia and I. I swear, if she had tried asking what I know she was about to, I probably would have decked her in the mouth,”

“I take it things between the two of you didn’t end too well, huh?”

“I… I really shouldn’t bore you with it. My friends are telling me the more I talk about it the more I won’t be able to let it go,”

“Well, I’m open to listening if you want to talk about it. If you don’t, that’s fine, but just… You can totally vent it out with me, if you want,” Historia said gently, her tone reassuring and sympathetic. She had mentioned being in Ymir’s position before. Maybe she really would understand what Ymir’s issue was, understand where her problem with everything lied.

Ymir took another drag before starting up on the story.

She regaled Historia with the full tale of woe and heartbreak between she and Nadia. She explained that it had been nearly a full year since the breakup and Ymir was basically over it. She’d gone on dates with other girls – nothing long-term, admittedly, but that was more because she didn’t want her next girlfriend to feel like a rebound – and had reevaluated what she wanted. She didn’t stay up wondering about what things between she and Nadia went bad or lamenting what could have been; no, she was completely over what had been their relationship.

She was still, however, very angry over the actions Nadia took in ending the relationship.

Her friends didn’t understand the difference between being made over a breakup and being angry at what Nadia had done for it to end. She wasn’t angry they weren’t together anymore. She had already had her two months of mourning over it and, upon reflection, recognized that things between them had been fizzling out for roughly a year before the affair became the straw that broke the camel’s back. “I just… It pisses me off that she didn’t just end it when she realized she didn’t want to be with me anymore! Like, why didn’t she just do that? If the shoe was on the other foot and I had decided to end it earlier on, that’s what I would have done!”

Historia was quiet for a moment after that before her lips turn up in a small half smile. “It’s the fact she still has some power over you that gets under your skin,” She said simply. Ymir paused and watched her curiously, taking the last puff of her cigarette. “It sounds like you’re angry because, despite not caring that the relationship itself is over, you’re mad that she didn’t have enough respect for you as a person to give you a mature breakup. If she’d given you a simple, clean breakup like you wanted, then that would be that. Would it have hurt still? Probably, yes, but not for nearly as long. You would have felt a lot more satisfied with a clean, mess-free ending that respected both your mutual feelings. But the fact that she didn’t give you that and instead took away some of your control by doing what she did, by taking actions that she knew were going to hurt you and infuriate you for some time after the breakup, is what really gets you. You’re not mad that she broke your heart; you’re mad that she didn’t treat you with respect when she did it, and that directly gives her power over how you feel about her and the breakup as a whole.”

“Oh my fucking God,” Ymir groaned out, tone a mix of satisfaction and relief, “finally someone that gets it! I’ve tried explaining it like that to my friends so many times but they always assume it’s because I’m still hurt!”

“It’s hard for some people to understand that you can stop caring about someone romantically and still care about how they affect you on a personal level, I suppose,” Historia laughed lightly. She glanced at Ymir curiously then before nodding toward the valet just out of earshot. “So, just curious, but want to bail out of here? Maybe go somewhere with a wider drink selection and something to eat and chat more privately about our respective battle scars?” She hummed.

Ymir stared at her for a moment before slowly smiling back, excitement crawling up along her back and almost making her shudder. It had been a while since she’d met someone she could talk to this easily about everything. “You’re treating, right, Reiss?” She asked teasingly.

Historia snorted slightly at that. “Well, I suppose it is only polite of a knight to treat the delicate princess after such a horrific ordeal,” She teased back before dropping her cigarette, stamping it out, looping her arm through Ymir’s again, and leading the other woman away.