#sorry just remembered when my brother got the police called on him for...playing in an empty lot

[ruthlesslistener]

People are so needlessly fucking hostile to teenagers for no good reason. I promise you that a few 14 year olds riding their bikes in an empty lot aren't going to ruin your day, you fucking freak

[loveandmurders]

The Sun of Ambrose V (lost Sinclair!daughter reader AU)

Hi everyone, this is the final part of my Sinclair!daughter AU in which the reader is Bo's daughter and she has been taken away and adopted by a new family.

You can find part I here.

Hope you'll enjoy! <3

Warnings: no proof reading, killer!reader, mentions of guilt, violence, murders, blood, some sort of dark angst/comfort

You quite enjoyed your summer break in Ambrose. You loved to sculpt with Vincent, you loved to watch your dad work on a car and to have him show you things, you loved to wander around with Lester. You loved to play with Jonesy as well. Everything felt good. You never slept so well in years, because you were finally feeling safe enough to fully relax.

You hadn’t asked about the tourists anymore because you didn’t have enough strength for more drama for the moment. And whenever people were coming around, the brothers made sure you were busy somewhere else in the town or with Lester. You pretended you didn’t notice anything. You just wanted to be happy. 

And for the moment, your own desire to kill has quieted down. You were still feeling sick from the murder of your mother.

The brothers didn’t notice anything amiss; apart from the fact they still hadn’t heard the sound of your voice, you were once again their ray of sunshine. You were making them so full of joy. The twins were talking, late in the night, about the legacy once again. They hadn’t thought they could resume their plans on this matter. They were so relieved.

However they were a little bit concerned about your adoptive father. They were certain that even if the man wasn’t doing too well for the moment, at some point he would want to get “his daughter” back. The twins had no idea how to cut him out of your life without killing him. Bo would love to murder him - out of jealousy - but he knew that you would know it one day, and he didn’t want to upset you that way. Both your mothers already died after all…

You were having a snack in Bo’s garage while he was taking care of a new car. You were sucking on the chocolate that dripped on your fingers, as you were listening to the music your father put on. You were both enjoying each other's presence even if you weren’t interacting directly. Bo was always a lot more at ease when you were in the same room than him or at least in his line of vision. He was still traumatised; he lost you once, and he promised himself it would never happen again.

You slightly jumped when you felt your phone buzzing next to you. You grabbed it and frowned when you saw it was your adoptive father. Bo noticed the look on your face.

“What’s up, baby?” he asked you as he came closer to you. You put your phone on your lap so you could sign

“He is wondering where I am.” you replied, knowing Bo would understand who was the “he”. You father rolled his eyes and groaned

“Oh so he remembered he's supposed to look after ya?” he ironized and your crossed your arms on your chest “Don’t pout” he hummed and kissed the top of your head

“I’ll have to tell him I’m here. I can’t lie to him about that. Just be nice to him, okay? Things are difficult and… And he won’t be happy about the situation because…” you trailed off

“Because what?”

“Well before mom got sick, she discovered I was chatting with you and Vince and Les, and she was worried about me. She wanted to call the cops on you” you explained. Bo didn’t show any emotion but you read in his eyes that he was quite concerned about such news

“Luckily she got sick then” he commented out loud before realising it “Sorry, love, I didn’t mean it like that” he quickly added as you looked away. Luck had really nothing to do with it, you thought.

“Anyway, I will tell him I’m here. And he’ll probably come get me. I’m just gonna make sure he doesn’t call the police or anyone” you promised as you got up and left the garage

You needed to be alone to write to your adoptive father: “Hey dad, are you feeling better? I didn’t really have anywhere to go so I went back to Ambrose. Everyone is very nice to me and Bo is inviting you over (so please don’t call the police, they really didn’t do anything wrong!). Will you bring me back home?”

The answer was almost instantaneous: “Yes, I will. I won’t call the police because I shouldn’t have asked you to go away in the first place. Love you, I’m sorry for everything”

You were relieved, knowing he wouldn’t be lying to you, not after what happened, not when he had failed his mission of taking care of you.

You came back home and settled at the kitchen table, thinking about what to do next. You didn’t want to leave Ambrose but you wouldn’t be allowed to stay here. You tried to busy yourself on some silly games on your phone but soon enough you grew bored. You were feeling quite upset as well. For the first time in weeks, you wanted to kill someone. You needed to express yourself in another way than sculpting or drawing. You needed to take out your frustration on someone, but there was no one to kill here.

Vincent opened the basement door, in need of some water when he saw you. He quickly saw you weren’t your usual happy self. He put an hand on your shoulder for you to look up at him before signing:

“What’s wrong?”

“My adoptive father will come get me. I think he should be here tonight” you replied

“Do you want to go?” Vincent tilted his head to the head, you quickly shook your head

“No, but I can’t really do anything about it”

You could tell that Vincent wanted to say something but didn’t dare and he simply sadly nodded his head at you.

“How about we make something together? Would it cheer you up?” he offered, which made you smile

“I’d love to”

As you focused on the art you were making with Vincent, you forgot about your adoptive father and you forgot about the time. Your need to kill quietened down, but was still there, waiting for you to be on your own to eat you up alive once again.

You were about to finish a sculpture of Jonesy you intended to offer to Lester, when you heard two vehicles coming into Ambrose. You looked at the window, but didn’t recognise your adoptive father’s car. There were lost “tourists” who were following behind Lester’s truck. Vincent tensed and looked at the clock before asking you:

“When do you think your adoptive father will come here?”

“I’m not sure, soon I guess” you shrugged but you saw the panic rising into Vincent’s eye

“Alright. I let you finish the sculpture without me. We have work to do. Stay here, please.” Vincent replied

“What work?” you frowned

“Promise me you will stay here” Vincent asked, firmly signing each work. You understood he was pretty serious about it

“Of course, I promise you, uncle” you finally replied as you sat back down and watched Vincent leave the room and go back into the basement.

You were about to go back to your sculpture when you heard people violently arguing. The “tourists” didn’t seem to be too happy with Bo. Lester was quick to intervene as well. You watched the scene of a man pushing Lester to the ground, and Bo hitting the said man. Your eyes widened at such a display of violence. You nibbled on your bottom lip. Were your family killers, or was it just bad people disrupting the peace of Ambrose?

You saw that things were getting pretty rough between the three tourists and your father and uncle. You wondered where Vincent was, and almost got into the basement to look for him… Until you saw your adoptive father’s car coming into view. He really couldn’t have arrived at the worst moment. He stopped in front of the garage and tried to put himself between Bo and the man, and to appease the situation. Bo asked him to go away, you guessed, according to his gestures. And your adoptive father refused.

You were too far away to see everything, and even more when they seemed to come more into Bo’s garage. You just knew that at some point someone screamed. Two tourists ran away, Lester ran after them with what seemed like a knife, and Bo was covered in blood. You had to stop yourself from leaving the house. You wanted to help, and you wanted to be the one covered in blood. However, you never broke a promise you made to your family before, so you had to be better, you had to stay inside. You didn’t know where your adoptive father was anymore and you grew worried. How could things go so badly after such happy weeks in Ambrose?

Bo grabbed a rifle and was about to go after the tourists when he received a massive hit on the head from behind and fell on the ground. You saw your adoptive father with some mechanic tool in his hands.

You couldn’t stop yourself this time. You took the gun Bo was hiding under his armchair and ran to the garage. You had to stop them, you had to do something about it. You couldn’t scream or you would have. Your legs brought you in front of the two men with such speed, as the adrenaline was pumping into your veins. Before you knew it, you aimed at them.

Your adoptive father who was ready to hit Bo stopped his movement as he noticed you and he brought his hands in front of him. Bo was still on the ground, pretty disoriented by the hit he received on the head. He looked up and saw you. You had never looked so much like a Sinclair before. He knew you were his daughter then; he wouldn’t even be disappointed if you decided to kill him.

You were perfect.

“What are you doing? Shoot him, shoot him! He killed the guy, and he wants to kill us all. Your mother was right, they are murderers!” you adoptive father yelled as you eyes moved between him and Bo

“I won’t hurt ya, baby” Bo whispered to you “Everythin’s alright” he continued, trying to sooth you. And one thing was certain, you wouldn’t stand to never hear him talking to you like that anymore.

You looked back at your adoptive father, tears in your eyes. You wanted to tell him how sorry you were about what you were going to do, about what you did to his wife, but with the gun in your hands, you couldn’t.

You shooted and closed your eyes. His body loudly fell to the ground and you shivered. You looked down at Bo and helped him to get up.

He quickly hugged you before gently rocking you, so you could calm down. You didn’t cry in his embrace, you felt at peace. You felt like everything was as it always should have been.

“Ya alright?” Bo whispered to you as he cupped your face into his bloody hands. You nodded and sniffed.

Screams resonated from the House of Wax and you moved from Bo. You were ready to help, you were ready to kill some more but Bo grabbed your wrist. He softly took the gun from you and kissed the palm of your hand.

“Don’t worry, baby. Les and Vince are taking care of the two others. Ya can rest now. Ya did amazin’. Ya saved me, ya saved the family” he hummed, pride shining into his eyes. “Told ya everythin’ was gonna be alright,” he added as he brought you back against him once again.

You couldn’t fully relax, not knowing if your uncles were doing alright. You kept your face towards the House of Wax, waiting for them. Soon enough, you saw them pulling two bodies out of the museum and you felt the adrenaline leaving you.

“I need to sit down” you signed to your dad who quickly nodded. He opened Lester’s truck and sat you down at the passenger seat, as it was the most comfy place he could offer for the moment. He didn’t want you to see the body of your adoptive father either.

“Stay here, I’ll be back soon” he murmured. He needed to let his brothers know about what happened. 

Soon enough, they were all around you. You quickly scanned them, to make sure they were unharmed. They didn’t really know what to tell you. They were happy, of course, but they weren’t too sure how you were feeling. You killed the man who raised you for years, after all.

Truth to be told, you used to feel guilty because of the death of his wife that was driving him crazy, but now they were back together. You felt free. You felt ready to kill again, to kill for the family business.

“Bo told us ya did the right thin’” Lester told you and you gave him a soft smile “Feelin’ all good?” he asked and you nodded.

“You don’t have to feel bad for having… killed him, you know. You protected your real father, you protected us. You did what you had to do” Vincent signed to you, even if Bo and Lester weren’t too sure that reminding you you killed him was a good idea. To their surprise, you relaxed into the seat and nodded again.

“I am a Sinclair” you said in a rough voice you hadn’t used in years.

--

Taglist : @murder-hobo - @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21 ; @12gaugefalls ; @kriston1210 ; @slushi-chan

[artists-ally]

{Train Wreck} Cassian!sister x Azriel AU {Pt. 1}

Man it feels good to be back with this series again. If you're wondering why the title feels familiar, you might have read this before. I decided I wanted to pick it back up again, but I needed to make a few changes. So, here is the revised version of Train Wreck!! Feel free to re-read, there are some new things here and there, so it's definitely worth it!! Anyway, enjoy my loves! Part 2 will be up soon!! Title and series inspired by this song!

Word Count: 8,587

Warnings: angst, language, traumatized characters (will come into play later in the series, you've been warned now), abandonment,

Tagging: @thelov3lybookworm @needylilgal022 @librafairy @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @sarawritestories @claireswritingcorner @dawneternal @ninthcircleofprythian @blessthepizzaman @lady-of-tearshed @pit-and-the-pen

Summary: After six years, this is the first time Ira and her brother Cassian have been in the same room. Under less than ideal circumstances, they're forced to meet again. Will Ira be able to forgive Cassian for the way he left things? Will she be able to trust the new friends she makes? Will she ever be able to open up to her brothers hot-shot best friend?

~~~~~

“He’s going to say no.” No response from the peanut gallery in the front seat. “Seriously, he’s not going to be okay with this. You might as well let me out of the car now.”

“Will you just be quiet?” Arthur snapped, eyes locking with mine from the rearview mirror. “Need I remind you that this is your fault. You’ve left us with no other option.”

“I told you, it wasn’t me. That was–” “Cal, I remember the story. And that’s all that it is. A story, a fabrication that Arthur and I are no longer going to be entangled in. You may be able to fool the police with that lie, but you can’t fool us, Ira,” Dana snapped, whirling around to shoot me some daggers. She couldn’t look intimidating if she tried; her face was like a bunny, and every time she frowned it just looked like she smelled something rotten.

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. There was no way he was going to take me. We hadn’t spoken in almost six years, I didn’t even know he was alive until three months ago when I heard about his engagement.

Fourteen years of growing up together meant nothing to him, I guess.

The big, riverside house came into view at the end of an equally impressive driveway. A shame for whoever had to go and collect the mail every morning. 

“Stay here, in the car,” Arthur barked. 

I opened the door and got out of the car, kicking a few stones. Man this place was flashy; a big fountain in the circular driveway, a line of cars over by a garage. Not to mention the very obvious multi-million dollar mansion that never seemed to end.

“Lord, give me the strength to not strangle this child,” Arthur sighed, marching to the front door. I snickered, he was always so uptight.

“Not a child, Arthur,” I countered. “I’m fucking twenty years old.”

“Give it a rest, Ira. We’re trying to help you since you clearly don’t understand the basic human morals of being a functioning member of society,” Dana said, opening the trunk, catching a bag as it tumbled from the stack.

“Sorry that I don’t like to conform to the idealistic fantasy that is modern society.” 

Turns out it’s hard to get a job with a criminal record. ‘We can’t hire a liability’ this and ‘we won’t have delinquents running our business’ that. So, I had to get creative with my… places of employment. It had been a fantastic plan. Brilliant even. Just something simple to save a few bucks so I could move out of this god forsaken place. But it got fucked up. Bad. And ended up with me in handcuffs.

This was my punishment. Instead of serving six months in county jail, I’m instead being dumped at this doorstep. Just what I always wanted. Knowing if I ever go back to the shithole I called home I’ll be arrested with a warrant.

I’ll never go in on a deal with someone ever again. 

“Get your stuff,” Dana dropped a few things to the ground. 

I came around the side of the car and heard the door open, and that lovely voice of his ring through my head. 

Great. This is going to go fantastic.

“Arthur? W-What are you doing here?” he said, a hiccup to his voice. 

“Cassian, good to see you,” the old man grinned, extending his hand. I watched through the windows of the van, saw Cassian stare at Arthurs hand and do nothing with it. “We uhh… we have something for you.”

“I don’t understand. How’d you find me?”

I could hear the crunch of gravel and I knew what was about to happen. Any second now I was about to come face to face with the douchebag I was dreading. I won’t lie, some small, juvenile part of me wished for him to be happy to see me. But I know it’s not gonna happen. 

“Dana? What the fuck is going on? Why are you here? How did you-”

“She’s not the surprise, Cass,” Arthur clapped him on the shoulder and walked to the back of the car. I didn’t miss the way he shuddered. 

There was a sharp yank on my elbow and I was pulled from the safety of my hiding spot. I jerked away from his grip, fixing the sleeve on my favorite jacket. Then I looked up. Fuck he’s…

“Ira…” He blinked several times, as if he could ever mistake me for someone else. Then I watched the color drain from his face. “It’s uhh… it’s been a while.” “Don’t give me that shit,” I couldn’t be bothered to be pleasant. Nothing about this would be fucking pleasant.

Cassian looked from Arthur to Dana, then back to me. And to the duffle bag that I was holding on to. I could see him connecting the dots inside his thick-ass skull. “No. No no no–”

“Cassian, she needs someone to look after her,” Dana expressed, chasing after him when he turned around. 

“You cannot just plop her on my doorstep like some stray dog,” Cass shouted, throwing his arms in the air and all around.

“She’s your sister, for fucks sake,” Arthur joined. “She needs you to look after her. Since you left, Ira has done nothing but cause me headaches and gray hairs.”

“I’m right here, you know,” I walked over, throwing the bag down. “And I’d appreciate if you talked about me like a fucking human being, not some gag gift that is always shuffled around Christmas because no one wants it.”

“This is fucking ridiculus. I cannot take you in, Ira. I have too much going on.”

“Some things never change,” I huffed. “See, I told you he wouldn’t give me the time of day. You’re still the same selfish, self-centered asshole you’ve always been.”

“Don’t talk like that to your goddamn brother,” Arthor yelled, spit flying onto my cheek. It took every ounce of self restraint to not rip his fucking throat out. Do not stoop to his level, Ira. Calm the fuck down.

“Cass? What’s going on?” Someone called

Cassian scrunched his face, and my eyes went to the door. A pretty woman was standing there with her arms folded. She had a scowl on her face and narrow eyes. Her long brown hair was braided over her shoulder. 

He heaved a sigh, rubbing his eyes. “Nothing, these people were just leaving.”

“Who’s here?” Another voice, a man, asked next. He was tall, had black hair and really deep blue eyes. They actually looked violet in the light. He was just as tall as Cassian when he came next to his side. The woman, with the most terrifying gaze I’ve ever seen, stood on his other side. 

Cassian muttered something under his breath and rubbed his forehead. “This is Arthur and Dana. My foster parents from years ago. And this… this is my sister.”

“Your sister?” Both of them exclaimed at the same time. 

He didn’t even tell them about me… 

I stand there, shocked to my core. God I knew he was an asshole, but he never once mentioned me? What a fucking–

“They were just–” “Come in come in,” the man stepped down and shook Arthur's hand. “I am Rhysand, call me Rhys. Welcome, we are so pleased to have you. Cassian never mentioned having visitors today.”

“It wasn’t planned,” Dana let out the fakest laugh I’ve ever heard. She was one of those people who, when nervous, laughed after every sentence. I’ve come to despise the sound. 

“No, Rhys,” Cassian shook his head. “They are not welcome. Take your fucking shit, take your goddamn bags, and go. You’re not allowed back here.”

At least that’s something we could both agree on. Neither side of this party wanted to be here. The feeling was mutual. 

“Welp, you heard the man,” I clapped my hands together. “Sorry to disrupt your whole life, to remind you that I still exist but we’ll go now. We all know that you don’t want the responsibility anyway. You didn’t want it six years ago, so why would that change today?”

“You know goddamn well that if I had a choice I would’ve–”

“Okay, okay can we cool it a couple degrees here? Someone better start explaining what is going on,” the man, Rhys, said. He put an arm between Cassian and I. I wasn’t sure when I got in his face, but he might want to remove the barrier before it gets ripped off. 

There were a couple too many silent heart beats, but both of us backed down. Cassian glanced at Arthur and Dana, taking a deep breath. I watched his chest rise and fall. 

In for four, out for four. In for five, out for five…

A lump rose in my throat. 

I could practically hear the conversation between Cassian and Rhys. This silent exchange of glances and body language I’m sure I’d never understand. But then Cassian backed down. Literally, he took a step back, hands on his hips.

“Would you guys like to stay for dinner?” Rhys asked Arthur and Dana.

Dinner? Dinner? Oh fuuuuck no. The four of us haven’t been in a room together for six years, and this crackhead just asked if we wanted to have dinner?

“We would be delighted,” Dana accepted, shooting me a look from head to toe. “Since it’s still midday, would you mind showing us around the property? It looks gorgeous.”

“Certainly,” Rhys says, offering his elbow. Dana latches on like a lost duckling, Arthur trailing after her. 

And then there were two. 

I looked up at the clouds, finding no discernible shapes amongst them. Welp. Here fucking goes nothing. 

“Lovely weather we’re having.”

“Do not,” he pointed at me. “You are not staying here, whenever this little tour is over, you’re gone with them.”

“Gladly.” 

“How the fuck did you guys find me anyway?” His eyes were full of rage. Full of hate. Full of resentment.

“It's amazing the things you can find with twenty bucks and a library computer.”

“You hacked into a library system and stalked me?” Cassian was dumbfounded.

I just smirked. “It wasn’t that hard, don’t give yourself too much credit. Kinda hard to hide somewhere when your face is plastered all over your website. ‘Velaris Hotel and Casino’ has a catchy ring to it, come up with it yourself?”

“I swear to god if I ever see you set foot in my hotel or my casino you’re gonna regret it. I cannot believe you hunted me down.”

“And I cannot believe you abandoned me,” I screamed. Years and years of pent up aggression. Years and years of shower thoughts and late nights wondering what I’d say to him when this moment came. And every single thing I’ve thought of has flown out the fucking window. 

Cassian had the gull to roll his eyes. I almost smacked him across the face. 

“Yo, are you coming inside or what?” A third voice sounded. God, how many people live in this fucking house?

A petite, blonde girl was in the doorway, her eyes bouncing between us. 

“Well? You gonna invite me in or is that privilege only reserved for Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dumb?” I asked, rocking back and forth on my heels. 

He looked me head to toe, and I got that same feeling as when Dana did it. Just raw disgust. 

“Break anything and I’ll murder you.”

“I’m thinking you’re gonna murder me regardless but eye-eye-captain,” I nodded, following behind his solid frame. 

The house was absolutely massive. I thought shit like this only existed in movies, not… wherever the fuck we were. Certainly not my normal run-down streets I was used to, and certainly not somewhere I ever thought Cassian was going to end up. 

There were cabinets filled with fine dishes and a chandelier hanging in the front entrance. There was a massive living room with the biggest TV and couch I’ve ever seen. Same with the kitchen and the dining room, which was being prepped by maids. Legit, actual maids. For fucks sake could this get any stranger?

Cassian took a left and went up a set of stairs. Classic Cass, running away at any chance he gets. My phone buzzed in my pocket. 

Cal: your a piece of shit I hope you know that

Me: You’re* but it’s fine.

Cal: i cannot believe you fucking left me

Me: Whoops. Sorry bud, I couldn’t stick around. You dicked me over so… guess that karma’s a bitch.

Cal: you know im bad with names

Me: WE USED EACH OTHERS MOTHER FUCKER. HOW HARD CAN IT BE TO FORGET MY NAME

Cal: hopefully pretty fucking easy because i don’t ever want to fucking see you ever again fuck you ira

Me: Right back atcha, asshole.

The only person that I had remotely trusted was out of my life. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure I’ve ever had someone to trust. There were plenty of things I never told Cal. Plenty of things I kept hidden for my own safety. It was a strictly need-to-know partnership. I always got a little weary when he started asking too many questions. 

And I learned pretty fucking quick you can’t trust your own blood either. 

Lesson learned. Always. Trust. Your. Gut. 

I trailed behind Dana and Arthur, always five steps behind, close enough to hear, but far enough to make an escape should I need to. 

“Oh, and this is my wife Feyre. My darling, this is Arthur, Dana, and Ira, Cassian’s foster parents and his sister,” Rhys spared me a glance and I scrunched my face. Had Cassian really never bothered to tell them about me?

“Wow,” she had a small smile on her pretty face. Why was everyone here so pretty? “You look just like him. You both have the same eyes. And the same hair.”

“Great, what I’ve always wanted to be. Cassian's clone.” I couldn’t stop the eye roll.

“Ira,” Dana hissed. “Some manners?”

“Thank you, your Royal Highness.”

Dana smacked her forehead, mumbling something about gray hairs and a headache again. I chuckled. I thought it was funny. Especially the curtsy. 

“They are staying for dinner, I’ll let them know to set a few extra plates,” Rhys said.

“Good, I wouldn’t mind getting to know some of Cassian’s family,” Feyre nodded, that small smile still on her lips. We had all meandered outside to look at their yard, at the fountain in the front of the house. 

To no one's surprise, there was a matching one in the back by the pool. 

We all went inside after seeing the yard, but Cassian lingered at the back of the pack. While Rhys took Dana and Arthur around to the kitchen, Cassian yanked me–why was everyone throwing me around?–into a room off to the side. 

“What the fuck did you do this time?” Off to a great start.

“Wow, Cassie-”

“Do not call me that.” 

He used to hate it when I called him Cassie. Especially around his friends because they would make fun of him for days after. 

“No hi, how are you? No ‘it's good to see that my sister is alive and doing well?’” “Clearly not well enough since they dragged you all the way out here.” Cassian’s eyes were full of fire. Looks like he still had that canyon of a line between his bushy-ass-eyebrows when he was upset. 

“You don’t know anything of what I’ve had to endure the last six fucking years without you.”

“What. Did. You. Do?”

I swallowed, I hated when he scolded me. “It wasn’t even that bad. They just gave me community service.” I lied out of my ass.

“Jesus Christ, Ira. What did they want to give you?” Cassian shouted for the whole house to hear. 

“Doesn’t matter, I got myself out of it. Like I always do, without your fucking help. I am capable of taking care of myself without you.”

“Yeah you seem to be doing a swell job,” Cassian looked me up and down, clearly judging my tangled hair and ripped up jeans that I’ve probably had since middle school. “I thought all of this was behind you, Ira. When I left you were-”

“Abandoned. You didn’t leave, you abandoned me.”

Cassian relaxed his shoulders. “You know if I could’ve taken you with me I would’ve.”

“No you wouldn’t have.” I was waiting for him to argue, to deny that fact. But he didn’t, and his haunting silence was enough of an answer. I scoffed, a hard, bitter noise. “You know I don’t blame you, no one would want to take a juvenile delinquent anywhere, especially somewhere like this place.”

“Ira-” “Save you’re fucking breath, Cass. You don’t have to pretend around me, you’ve never had to. Just play along with it for one night and I’ll be gone by the morning. Then I won’t have to be your liability to shoulder ever again.”

I didn’t wait around to see his response. Somewhere deep inside I was actually excited to see him. To meet the person my scrawny, gangly brother had turned into. Now he was… a man. Like a real man. I never thought I’d see him with long hair, but here we are.

He looked healthy. He looked happy. For fucks sake he was engaged. Albeit to the most terrifying looking woman I’ve ever seen, but they looked like they somehow worked.

I found Dana and Arthur with glasses of wine around a large table, two other women that I hadn’t met yet. 

“Ahh, this is her,” Rhys stood up, putting his hands on my shoulders. I immediately shrugged them off. “This is Ira, Cassian’s sister.”

“After all this time,” the pretty blonde woman spoke, looking at me from head to toe. “Who knew Cassian could keep you a secret.”

“You look just like him,” a girl who looked similarly to Feyre said, eyes wide. “I’m Elain. And that’s Morrigan.”

“Mor is fine, dear,” Mor smiled, coming over to me and Rhys. “Would you like to see the rest of the house?”

“Not really,” I grimace, but she linked her elbow with mine anyway, dragging me away. “I know that look. You’re overwhelmed. Follow me.”

I thought I was doing a good job at masking it. “You don’t know the fucking half of it.”

“I know Elain said this already, but fuck you look like Cassian,” she laughed, opening a room and revealing a giant bed with a balcony on the other side of some french doors. 

“It gets really fucking annoying,” I rolled my eyes. 

“Understood,” she nodded, not pushing it. “This is my room, you can go out on the balcony if you need some fresh air. Or the bathroom, whatever you want.”

This entire room was as big as the trailer I grew up in. I’ve never seen such a big bed, or a big closet. Jesus, she could have the entirety of Macy’s in there. 

She must’ve caught me staring at it cause she walked over and flipped on the light. “Wanna take a look?”

I snapped back to her, shaking my head. I shoved my hands in my pockets, digging my nails into my palms. Everything in here was so pristine, and I was so… not. I didn’t wanna step anywhere but the hardwood floor.

“I like your jacket, those are some really cool patches,” she smiled, taking a closer look. She reached out and touched one, the blue plaid square fraying at the edges. 

It was a cut out of Cassian’s flannel he left behind…

“Thanks,” I nodded, ignoring the lump in my throat. “I’ve spent a lot of time making them.”

“That's so cool, I have zero creative ability,” Mor sighed as she flopped back on the bed. 

“Neither do I, just something to pass the time, I guess?” I took my hands out of my pockets, digging some grime out from under my nails. 

I could feel her eyes on me. That tension. Knowing she’s about to say something. 

“Look, I know it’s not my place to ask, but–”

“Then don’t ask. Cause I’m not saying shit,” I said bluntly. “Sorry if that's rude but I don’t know you and you clearly don’t know me so… I don’t need the whole ‘I know what you’re going through’ speech. You don’t. No one does. Not even myself.”

Mor nodded, sitting up, propping her arms behind her back. “I’m a little pissed at Cassian too.”

My eyes snapped to hers. “Why?”

“Because he has never once mentioned you? I know some of where he came from, of bouncing around the foster system, about ‘siblings’ but… he never went into detail. I just assumed they were all other kids in the system, you know? If he would’ve mentioned something about you, trust me, we would have not waited this long to be introduced.”

That… makes me feel slightly better. 

“There's not much to know about me. I’m a fucking nuisance to basically everyone. Especially to Cassian, Arthur, and Dana apparently.”

“What the fuck is their problem?” Mor scoffs, folding her arms over her chest. 

“I don’t know. Well– of course I know, it’s me. I’m their fucking problem and they’re trying to get rid of me. I made a dumb fucking decision, but I already did my fucking time. I don’t want anything to do with Cassian so I’m not sure why they’re dragging him into this mess.” 

Mor just looked at me sorrowfully. Fuck, why did I say that? I don’t want her pity. I can’t pretend she cares about me. 

She got off the bed and stood in front of me. She was shorter than I was, but not by a whole lot. 

“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like. I know it’s fucking awful what they’re making you do, so I don’t blame you for wanting to hide. Help yourself to anything you need.”

And then she was gone. Blonde hair bobbing with her steps. 

This isn’t fucking happening. I’m not in some strange girls room, alone nonetheless, in a different city hundreds of miles away from my familiar streets. I was not about to be abandoned here by Arthur and Dana because they couldn’t stand to take care of me anymore. Not the first, not the second, but the third time I’ve been abandoned. 

Man this is some fucking bullshit. 

I just looked around, envying all of this. It was all hers. All this space, all these things. All these clothes and dresses and jewelry boxes… Why can’t I have these things?

I swallow my tears. I’m so fucking pathetic, why am I about to cry? This is so stupid. Everything about this is stupid. 

I head to the bathroom and splash some cold water on my face. 

A plan flickers to life in my brain. I know for a fact they’re going to sneak out and leave me and all my shit here. But, I’ll just leave in the middle of the night. Who the fuck is gonna stop me? No one. Who cares if I leave? Also no one. 

I won’t make the same mistake that Cassian did. When I disappear, no one will be able to find me.

I took a long look at myself in the mirror. My tired eyes, my tangled, ratty hair. But I could see it… the resemblance between him and I. The same eyes. Same nose. Same hair. I’ll never be able to unsee it now. 

Okay, Ira. just a few more hours and you're done. Done for good. You can change your name and move to Puerto Rico or something. Paris. Wherever you want to go. Well, you don’t know how to speak Spanish or French, which might be important but… that's why they have translating apps, right? You’ll be fine. You always are.

When I got back downstairs, there was a light chatter in the air. But it stopped the second I walked in the room. 

My hood was quick to go over my head. No one spoke as I sat down and poured some water from the pitcher into my glass. 

Thankfully conversation between Rhys, Feyre, and Dana resumed and the silence wasn’t eating me alive. I took out my phone and scrolled through instagram, posting a picture of a lake I had taken on the drive up here. Just like all the other posts, it wouldn’t get any likes. 

“How do all of you know each other?” Arthur asked. 

“Well I met Cassian when we were in high school, as well as our other friend Azriel,” Rhys started. “We made a deal with each other that when we graduate, we would do everything in our power to become the most powerful business owners we could. As you can see, that little pact is working quite well.” “How long have you lived here?” Dana asked next, clearly eyeing up Rhys. 

“For about three years now?” Mor answered, Rhys nodded. “We kind of all found each other on the same paths and stuck together. We sort of own and share everything around here.”

“That is lovely,” Dana smiled. “And what do you do?”

“I own a casino and a neighboring hotel,” Rhys smiled. The moment I had learned about this hotel and casino, alarm bells rang in my ears. The devil's playground, and it was calling my name. Maybe I’d hit up for a few poker hands. “Cassian runs the whole thing, and Azriel kind of has his own thing.”

“Who’s Azriel?” Arthur unfolded the napkin and laid it across his lap. 

“He is our other friend,” Cassian butted in, lips pressed in that line that I remembered. “He’ll be by later.”

“Great,” I rolled my eyes. “More people.”

“Will you please be polite for once in your life?” Dana whisper-yelled, clearly not being discrete enough since everyone looked at us. 

I just shut my mouth, grinding my teeth. It’s not worth it, it's not worth it, I told myself. A few moments later, a large tray with some type of bird on it came out. It was too big to be a chicken, but too small to be a turkey? Duck maybe? I don’t know, it didn’t matter. It was food. 

Everyone around me took their time while I ate like a heathen. Putting a little bit of everything on my plate and scarfing it down like someone was going to take it away from me. Guess I’m taking on the stray dog title pretty well. 

“So, Ira. What do you like to do?” Mor asked me. 

I don't know what part of my hood being pulled over my head gave off ‘I want to be a part of this conversation’, but here we go I guess. 

“I have many hobbies.” I could see Cassian’s eyes narrow from across the table. 

“Like?” Rhys stuck a green bean in his mouth.

“Uhh, f-fashion. And I’m very good at handling money. Other people's money. As well as picking locks and hotwiring cars-”

“She’s joking,” Cassian gave the fakest laugh– besides Dana’s– that I’ve ever heard. “We used to play cops and robbers when we were little, she always wanted to be the robber.”

“Did I?”

“Yes,” he practically growled. “You did.”

This was crazy. This was actually crazy to be doing this right now. If I had any particular feeling about the things I did, guilty and ashamed were not some of them. Who gave a fuck if I stole from Walmart or faked being a waitress to make a few extra bucks? If anything they should be thanking me for the extra set of hands. Which they didn’t have to pay for. 

It wasn’t like I stole the Mona Lisa for fucks sake. 

“I guess I did.” 

“What was Cassian like growing up? I can only imagine some of the stories you have,” Nesta chimed in from next to Cassian.

“I have a few. One time, Cassian was making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich-”

“Do not-”

“And he thought that the peanut butter was in the fridge for some reason. Turns out he grabbed a bottle of dijon mustard and used that instead. He took one bite and threw up everywhere. It took Dana a week to get the smell out of the kitchen.”

Everyone grimaced, poking fun at Cassian for making a jelly-mustard sandwich. “I guess that explains the nausea every time I make one.”

“You still can’t stomach even the smell?” My eyes were a little wide. That had to have been from when we were still in elementary school.

“Nope,” Cassian’s tone was harsh, fork forceful as it went into his mouth. 

“What is everyone laughing about?” A new voice said from over my shoulder. When I turned to look… holy mother of Jesus fucking–

“Azriel,” Rhys, still in a fit of laughter. “Listen to this: Ira, Cassian’s sister, told us why he runs for the hills every time he sees peanut butter.”

“S-Sister?” 

I could not have ignored the exchange between Cass and Azriel if I tried. Those alarm bells from earlier? They were deafening now. Much like Cassian and Rhys earlier, their eyes and body gestures were like a language in and of itself. Impossible to understand, but something was said. 

“Azriel, this is my sister. Ira,” Cassian gestured to me without looking. “This is Azriel. And my foster parents, Arthur and Dana.”

I held Azriel’s gaze for a second. I couldn’t quite figure out what his problem was, but he better not have one with me. I challenged his gaze, but he refused to back down. 

Azriel gave a not-so-subtle look at me, but didn’t say anything as he moved to sit with us. A sharp kick to my shin had me wincing. When I looked up, Cassian met my heated gaze. 

Don’t even think about it, he mouthed, glare set so deep in his eyes I wasn't sure his eye lids would peel off his face. 

One raise of my eyebrow told him I was up for the challenge. I could see his jaw clench, and that only made me want to push his buttons. 

I managed to break my vice hold on Cassian and look at Azriel from across the table. He had these lighter colored eyes, hazel I think. And a dark mess of hair. He wore a fitted black athletic tee, and black sweats with a Nike swoosh on the hip. I think I stared a little too long, cause when I looked back up at his face, he sent me a wink. 

I damn near gagged. He wishes. 

“And you’re engaged? That’s wonderful, Cassian. I am so happy for you,” Dana gushed while looking at Nesta’s ring. “Congratulations, you two. Do you have a date picked out?”

“No,” Nesta said sternly. “We are just going to wait things out. Until both of us feel ready.”

Cassian nodded, not offering up any words. 

“What would you guys like for dessert?” Rhys asked, listing off a few options. I stopped paying attention after chocolate cake because who would want to hear anything else?

“I’m afraid we better get on the road, it is a long drive back to our home. Thank you for dinner, it was delicious,” Arthur stood up from the table, shaking Rhys’s hand. “Cassian, a word, please?”

With a deep breath, Cassian stood up and followed the old man out of the room. 

“Okay, now that he’s gone, can we all agree that there is something wrong with him? I’ve never seen him so… so rigid in my life,” Mor blew out air from her lips, shaking her head. 

I offered a tad bit of insight. “Dana and Arthur are kind of fed up with me so they’re just gonna take off. And leave me here. But don’t worry, I’m just gonna find a bus stop in the morning and be gone before any of you wake up. No biggie.”

The room was silent except for my fork scratching on the plate. When I looked up, everyone was looking at me funny.

“Ira, what? They’re gonna leave you here?” Mor gasped.

“It is a long story. And they think I need a role model to get my life together. Why Cassian is that role model I’ll never understand because the last I knew of him he was just as irresponsible as I was.”

Rhys took a sip of wine, “How long has it been since you’ve seen each other?”

“Six years. But I mean you all probably know him better than I ever did so, might wanna ask that prick why he abandoned me.” I took a big piece of this chocolate cake into my mouth. “Fuck, this is good.”

“What happened?” Feyre prodded.

“We are lightyears away from you being able to ask that,” I laughed. “No offense but, it’s none of your fucking business.”

Again, the room was silent, except for a small snort at the end of the table. It wasn’t Elain because she was so red she looked like she was gonna pass out. And the only other one was Azriel. 

“Hint taken,” Rhys pressed his lips in a flat line. “Well, you are Cassian’s family, so you are always welcome in our home.”

“Trust me, I don’t want to be here any more than you want me to be. I’ll figure it out, I always have. It’ll be like I was never here,” I took another forkful and shoved it in. Damn, I was gonna miss this cake. “So, Rhys, you own a casino and a hotel. What do the rest of you do?”

I’ll pretend like I care for my own amusement.  

“Well, Cassian runs the casino and hotel,” Rhys pointed out again. “Azriel owns and runs the adjacent club. We basically have our own empire here.”

“Sounds riveting,” I rolled my eyes. “What about you Mor.”

“I am the best fucking bartender this place has seen,” she grinned. “And I model here and there.” “Wonderful.” So she’s a princess. Got it. 

“I have an art studio. I teach classes and do some workshops,” Feyre said. “But most of the time I am at home with our son Nyx. He is… he’s a handful. A spoiled handful.”

“Hey,” Mor said, “to be fair, he is the first kid in our group, what did you expect?”

“He’s barely two, he doesn’t need designer clothes that he won’t fit into after a few months anyway. It's a waste of money.”

“Feyre, darling, I don’t know if you’ve looked around, but we kind of have a lot of money. It could use some wasting,” Rhys patted her thigh under the table. 

I can only hope to have enough financial security to be able to say sentences like that. They could probably retire right now, all of them, and never make a dent in their fortune. Lucky bastards. 

“What is it that you do, Ira?” Azriel poked his head from around Mor. 

“Oh,” I sputtered. What the hell was I supposed to say? Certainly the fact that I commit petty crimes won’t go over well. “I’ve had a lot of jobs. I don’t have a set career yet.”

“So hot-wiring cars is just a hobby then?” 

A stream of water shot out of Mor’s mouth and onto the table. How did he even hear that?

“It’s a skill. Don’t come crying to me when your battery dies and you don’t wanna pay a hundred and fifty dollars for AAA to come and pick up your ass,” I deflected. Another skill I had built up over the years. 

“And the locks?” Wow, he was kind of an asshole with supersonic hearing. I could see why he and Cassian hung around together. 

“I was a locksmith,” I mustered up my best smile and scooted my chair so I was sitting at an angle.

“Ah, so it wasn’t just the ‘cops and robbers’ you and Cassie used to play growing up. Good to know,” Azriel wiped the corners of his mouth with his napkin. He stood up, saying something about having to leave because he had to open up. 

Just as he was walking by, I stuck my toe into the walkway and he tripped over me. Azriel all but went through the wall, Cassian coming around at the last second and catching his arm. 

“You alright?” He asked as Azriel straightened himself out. 

“Yup. Fine.” The glare he gave me sent a smirk curling at my lips. Two can play that game, mother fucker. 

I, very gracefully, scratched the corner of my nose with my middle finger. He got the message. But so did Cassian.

“Your stuff is in the driveway. Go get it and meet me upstairs.” Cassian looked so pissed off. His shoulders were pinned to his ears again as he stalked away, that silence settling back in the room. 

“Guess that’s my cue to get a move on. Thank you everyone, a pleasure to meet you all,” I said with a genuine tone. They were all cool.  

The three duffle bags and backpack were not light as I carried them up the stairs, trying not to knock over all the decorations and pictures on the wall. One of them didn’t survive. It crashed all the way down and shattered on the hardwood floor. Cassian cursed from somewhere. 

With a thud, I let go of all the bags in some random room at the end of the hall. It was barely big enough to call a hobbit hole. There wasn’t a window or a real bed, just some cot with a pillow and a blanket. “Glamourous.”

“It’s the best that I could do,” Cassian all but rolled his eyes. 

“A couch would’ve been better,” I plopped down on the taught fabric, bouncing a little. “Sorry about the frame.” “It’s fine,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, Ira I’m sorry about how I left you.” “Yeah well apologies don’t mean a fucking thing to me unless you fix it, Cassian,” I folded my arms over my chest. “And for the record, I would’ve understood if you would’ve just fucking told me what was going on. Instead, not only did you not tell me, you ghosted me.” I just blinked up at him, waiting for an explanation. “Well?”

Nothing. Not even a strangled breath. “I just had to.”

“That’s the best you can do? Are you seriously still that fucking thick in the head?” “I didn’t have a choice, Ira,” he shouted. 

“Yes,” I nodded. “You absolutely had a choice. You could’ve at least left me a fucking note with a number on it so I could talk to you. You were all I had, Cass. All I fucking had and you just disappeared. What did you expect me to do?”

Cassian shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I-I don’t know. I thought you’d get yourself together and make it out too. Build your own empire, like the one we have here.”

“In case you forgot, I didn’t get to finish school like you did.”

“Well that’s not my fault.”

The fucking nerve. I stood up, barely coming to his chest, and smacked him across the face. His head jerked to the side, and his mouth fell open. I shoved him into the wall on the other side of the hallway and he fell into it. 

“You are a piece of fucking shit Cassian.”

“Ira–” “Did you really think that I would end up alright without you there? Could you really be that fucking stupid?”

“I didn’t think that–”

“Of course you didn’t. You never have. You’ve only ever thought about yourself and what would benefit you. You never gave a shit about me, I was just a burden you couldn’t get rid of.” “That’s not true,” he gritted his teeth. 

“Tell me that I am not a constant reminder of dad. Or mom. Tell me.” I waited for a response. When nothing came, I felt the nausea roll through my body. “You are one sorry son of a bitch Cassian.”

“Jesus Ira you think I wanted to abandon you?” “You haven’t given me one other reason to believe anything different,” I was screaming now. I didn’t care if anyone else heard. “The last memory I have of you is seeing you packing a fucking bag and climbing out your window, what else am I supposed to believe about you?”

A door clicked open, and Azriel emerged. He looked at us with raised eyebrows. “Everything alright?” 

No, you fucking prick. 

“Just re-kindling our sibling rivalry,” I gave a mocking look, staring down Azriel. “Mind your own damn business. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Ira,” Cassian said, somewhat appalled. 

“Just fuck off, Cassian,” I waved my hand at him. “Like I said, I’ll be gone in the morning and you don’t ever have to worry about making it up to me again because you won’t be able to. Hope you are happy living in your perfect little bubble with your perfectly little circle. Hope they’re all more important to you than I ever was.”

I slammed the door shut quicker than he could get a response out, leaning against it. I hadn’t ever realized that I was shaking.

Whatever. Fuck him too. I don’t need Cassian. I haven’t needed him for the past six years. God, has it really been that long?

There was no use in unpacking so I just piled the bags in the corner of the room. And there was also nothing to do besides lay down simply because there wasn’t enough room to do anything else. 

Maybe when everyone has gone to sleep, or home, I’ll go sneak around. Take something just to piss him off. Nothing too valuable, but something really inconvenient like all the salt and pepper shakers or all the spoons. 

Or one of the Corvettes in the driveway.

My mind was racing with thoughts, but eventually I had fallen asleep because the sun was peeking through the crack under my door. I stirred and sat up, sighing loudly. 

I changed into a hoodie and some other jeans, slipping my jacket on knowing it'll be chilly. 

With far more precision, I made it downstairs to the front door. It unlocked easily, thankfully no alarm system went off. The crisp morning greeted me and I slipped out silently. 

Fuck, this driveway was long. Couldn’t they be normal and have a normal fucking sized driveway? It was so unnecessary. 

And of course there was nothing at the end of it. Just the road and nothing else. Not another house or anything. Who knows how far it could be until a bus station. Hopefully this place wasn’t filled with a bunch of weirdos and I wouldn’t get kidnapped. 

The thought of carrying all these bags for miles would tear up my back and shoulders. I didn’t have that much but… I needed all of it. 

“Ira!”

I whirled around and saw a Cassian shaped silhouette coming down the driveway. Oh great. 

“Come to demand I pay for the broken frame?” “Stay.”

What? “What?”

Cassian breathed heavily, “Stay. I-I am so sorry for what I said. And you’re right, I don’t ever think of anyone other than myself. And I’m sorry I never told you where I was going. I want to fix it, but I can’t if you don’t at least let me try.”

I dropped the bags, totally not believing what I was hearing. “And what if I don’t give a flying fuck if you want to or not?”

Cassian completely deflated. “Please, Ira. I made a promise to mom and dad that I would look after you. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by where I don’t feel like a piece of shit for what I did. I miss you.”

So what if he made a promise to mom and dad? He made a promise to me. To always stick together. To always be there. He hung me out to dry before I even had a chance to notice. His apology means nothing. His desperation means nothing. 

I fucking hated Cassian. More than anything right now I wanted to watch him be boiled alive. Could he really even help me anyway? What was the fucking point of any of this? I was already humiliated, and dragging innocent people into my bullshit surely didn’t help. 

I sucked in a big breath, hiking my bag up on my shoulder, ready to bolt. “Why should I?”

“Because what other option do you realistically have?” 

“That is not fair,” I flare my nostrils. “You have no right to waltz back into my life and pretend you give a shit about me.”

“You were the one who was dropped on my doorstep,” Cassian pointed out, making my stomach drop. 

“You know, you’re doing a shit job at showing that you legitimately want me to stay, asshole.” I was getting a little angry. Good things did not happen when I felt betrayed. “And for the record, I tried to talk them out of bringing me here, but they went around me and got a fucking court order. So, whether you want to believe it or not, it was not my choice to be here. I can’t even go back with Dana and Arthur because there will be a warrant out for my arrest.”

“Shit…” Cassian dragged a hand over his face. “Ira I’m-”

“Sorry? I know. But you lost the privilege of my forgiveness long ago. It is gonna take a hell of a lot more than ‘I’m sorry’ to fix what you’ve done to me.”

“I know, I know,” Cassian softened his eyes and his voice, standing tall in front of me. “Just… give me something. Anything, and I will never betray you ever again.”

Should I believe him? I have no fucking idea what to do. All my senses are telling me to run and don’t look back, but that gaping pit in my stomach that formed when he left seems a little less… gaping.  

This was gonna be a rough fucking time. Nothing about this is going to be easy, but… he was right. I didn’t have another option. Prison, if I really was desperate, but I didn’t quite feel like losing all my basic human rights.

If he wanted me to stay, there were going to have to be some sacrifices on his end.

Maybe a little room for petty behavior. 

“I want a real fucking room.” I demanded

“Any one in the house.”

“I want yours.”

“Absolutely not,” Cassian furrowed his brow. “Plus, I don’t even live here anymore. Just Rhys, Feyre and Nyx. Nesta, Azriel and I live in the next town.”

“So what, you all just visit together and pretend to be a big happy family?” I scoffed, kicking a stone. 

“We don’t pretend, Ira,” he didn’t say it rudely, but more matter of fact-ly. And he looked at me like I had never known what a family was. I guess he forgot that when he left it kind of ruined me. Or again maybe he just didn’t care what it would do to me back then. 

Cassian looked sad. Not depressed or upset, just sad. 

“Your room or I’m gonna walk away right now.” There was no room for negotiating in my voice. I could see the conflict in his eyes, but with a sigh he gave in. 

“Fine, you can have my room,” Cassian rolled his eyes dramatically. 

“Was that so hard?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Actually it was. I spent weeks designing that room. All for it to go to fucking waste.”

“Sucks to suck I guess,” I smirked, shouldering two of my bags. I took a long, non-rage-filled look at my brother. Man… he looked so different. Six years is a long time to not see someone. 

I gotta make this work. “I’m gonna work hard, you know. I’m tired of always being in the fucking mud.”

“Yup. Me too.” Nice, asshole. “You’re going to have to follow some rules and check in. This isn’t going to be a free-for-all, you’re gonna have a curfew.”

“A curfew? What am I, thirteen?”

“Until you can prove to me that you’re not gonna go and rob a bank, yes, you’ll have a curfew,” Cassian picked up my other bags and started walking back to the house. “We’re gonna find you a job because I will not be funding your operation.”

“What happened to ‘we have a lot of money. It could use some wasting’?”

“Rhys wasn’t wrong,” Cassian said. “But just because we have it doesn’t mean you get access to it.”

“Jeez, sorry I brought it up, grumpy pants. And what kind of rules anyway?”

“We’ll talk about it later. Some of us like to get a full eight hours of sleep every day so I am going back to bed. You’re not allowed to leave the house until I say so, so find something to do.”

“Or someone,” I whispered to myself. But Cassian heard. “A joke.”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you eye fucking Azriel,” Cassian practically gagged. “That is one of your rules. You are not allowed to be engaged with him in any type of way. The last thing he needs right now is you.”

“Right to the heart. And please, I could do better.” That part was debatable for sure. 

“I mean it, he’s been through a lot the past year and a half. It took him a long time to get to where he is and I won’t let you ruin it for him,” Cassian said possessively. “He, along with everyone else, is my family. Fuck with them and you’re dealing with me.” “News flash, buddy, so am I. We share the same DNA, and hair and eyes according to everyone else on the fucking planet.”

“Ira, I’m serious. If you fuck around with Azriel and I find out I sweat to–”

“Jesus, calm down Vengeance. Gotham is safe from the Joker,” I followed him inside, clicking the door shut behind me. “I won’t get involved with Azriel.”

“Good.”

He carried the bags to his car, telling me we’d make it to his house sometime in the afternoon. After that? I just… wandered. I looked in the kitchen, grabbing an orange and a few granola bars from the pantry. I slipped out the back door to the pool and sat on one of the lounge chairs. 

The sunrise was full of oranges and golds. Much different from the other sunrises I’m used to up on the roof. The soft wind blew the water in the pool, making gentle lapping noises. I closed my eyes. Stretched my legs. 

I’ve gotta be careful or I might get used to this. 

I know the ending of this book. Read these pages, seen the titles. It’s gonna be no fucking different. I’ll give it the good ol’ college try, but it’s never gonna fucking work. I’ll do something stupid, piss off the wrong person and Cassian will kick me to the curb. Just a waiting game. 

Nothing I can do about it, so I might as well see where fate takes me.

[lemons-bittersweet]

THE OUTSIDERS FROM THE BOOK IN DESCRIPTION.

IM SORRY IF THINGS ARE SPELLED WRONG NOR THE SENTENCES BEING REAL SENTENCES BUT I DONT HAVE THE TIME TO DO ALL OF THAT CURRENTLY

PONYBOY CURTIS- AGE 14- I have light brown almost red hair and greenish-gray eyes I wish they were grayer because I hate most guys that have green eyes but I have to be content with what I have my hair is longer than a lot of boys wear theirs squared off in the back and long in the front and other sides but I'm a greaser most of my neighborhood rather bothers to get a haircut size I look better with long hair I like to watch movies alone so I can get into them and live them with the actors when I see a movie with someone it's kind of uncomfortable it's like having someone read your book over your shoulder I'm different that way I mean my second oldest brother soda who's 16 going around 17 never cracks a book at all and my oldest brother Darrel we call darry works to long and hard to be interested in a story or drawing a picture so I'm not like them and nobody in our gang digs moves and books the way I do for a while there I thought I was the only person in the world that did so I loned it soda tries to understand at least which is more than darry does but then so does different from anybody he understands everything almost like he's never hollering at me at the time of day or he is or treating me as if I was 6 instead of 14 I love soda more than that I have ever loved anyone even mom and dad he's always happy go lucky and grilling while there Dairy's hard and firm and rarely grins at all but then darrys gone through a lot his this 20 years growing up too fast soda will never grow up at all I don't know which way is the best i'll find out one of these days Sodapop Curtis-AGE 16/17- more handsome than Ponyboy knows he's slim but has a friendly draw sensitive face that manages to be reckless and thoughtful at the same time dark gold hair that he comes back long and silky and straight and in summer the sun bleaches into a shining wheat gold eyes are dark brown lively dancing reckless laughing eyes that can be gentle sympathetic one moment and blazing with anger the next he's got his dad's eyes but his is one of a kind. Darrel JR Curtis-AGE 20- 6 feet two inches tall broad shoulders and muscular has dark brown hair that kicks out in front and slight cow lick in the back it's like his dad's but Darry's eyes are his own he's got eyes like two pieces of pale blue-green ice They've got a determined set to him like the rest of him he looks older than 20 tough cool and smart he would be real handsome with his eyes weren't so cold he doesn't understand anything that's not playing hard fact but he uses his head Steve Randle-AGE 17- Tall and lean with sick greasy hair he kept combed in complicated Swirls he was cocky smart and Soda's best buddy since grade school Steve's specialty was cars he could lift a hubcap quicker and more quietly than anyone in the neighborhood but he also knew cars upside down and backward he could drive anything on wheels he and soda worked at the same gas station steve part-time soda full time and the gas station got more customers than any in town whether that was because Steve was so good with cars or because so would attract girls like honey jaws flies

Two-bit (Keith) Mathews- AGE ???- Keith was the oldest of the gang and the wisecracker of the bunch he was about six feet tall stocky built and very proud of his long rusty colored sideburns he had gray eyes and a wide grin and he couldn't stop making funny remarks to save his life you couldn't shut that guy up he always had to get his two bits worth in hence his name even his teachers forgot his real name was Keith we hardly remembered he had one life was one big joke to tube it he was famous for shopping with his black switchblade and he always was smart enough to the cops he really couldn't help it everything he said was so irresistibly funny that he just had to let the police in on it to brighten up their dough lives he liked fighting blondes and from some unfathomable reason school he's still a junior at 18 1/2 he never learned anything he just went for kicks I liked him real well because he kept his laughing at ourselves as well as other things he reminded me of Will Rogers maybe because of the grin Dallas Winston- AGE ???- He had an elfish face with high cheekbones and pointed chin and small sharp animal teeth and ears like a lynx his hair was almost white it was so blonde and he didn't like haircuts or hair oil either so it fell over his forehead and wisps and kicked out in the back and tufts and curled back behind his ears and along the Naples neck his eyes were blue blazing ice cold with hatred of the whole world dally had spent 3 years on the wild side of New York and had been arrested at age 10 he was tougher than the rest of us tougher colder meaner the shade of difference that separates the greases from a hood was a present valley he was wild as the boys downtown outfits like Tim Shepherd's gang in New York dally blew off steam and gang fights but here organized gangs are rarities they're just small bunches of friends who stick together in the welfare is between the social classes of rumble when it's called it's usually born of a grudge fight and the opposite just happened to bring the friends along oh there are few gangs around here like the river kings and the Tiber Street Tigers but in the southwest there's no gang rivalry so Dally even though he could get into a good fight sometimes had no specific thing to hate no rival game only Socials and you can't win against them no matter how hard you try because they've got all the brakes and even wipping them isn't going to change the fact maybe that's why Dallas was so bitter he had quite the reputation in the file and down at the police station he had been arrested he got drunk he rode and rodeo's lied cheated stole rolled drunk jumped small kids he did everything I didn't like it but he was smart and you had to respect him Johnny Cade- AGE 16- If you could picture a little dark puppy that has been kicked too many times and it's lost in a crowd of strangers you'll have Johnny he was the youngest next to me smaller than the rest with a slight build he had big black eyes and a dark tan face his hair was jet black and heavily greased and combed to the side but it was so long that it fell into shaggy bangs across his forehead he had a nervous suspicious look in his eyes and that beating he got from the socialist didn't help matters he was the gang's pet everyone's kid brother his father was always beating him up and his mother ignored him except when she was hacking off his something and then you could hear yelling at him clear down at our house I think he hated that the worst getting whipped he would have run a million times if we hadn't been there and if he hadn't been gang Johnny would have never known love and affection are.

[fluentmoviequoter]

A Lot to Learn

Pairing: Michael Ormewood x fem!reader (tv show characterization)

Summary: After his wife leaves, Ormewood runs into you after not seeing you since high school. He realizes he has a lot to learn about you and french braids.

Warnings: fluff, divorce, Cooper is a matchmaker, r grew up in Atlanta and went to school with Ormewood

Word Count: 1.7k+ words

A/N: I grew up in the deep south and just need to applaud this show for their approach to the setting and the stereotypes. Also, Jake was the perfect choice for Ormewood and the french braid topic in 2x06 was begging me to write this. If there's an audience for this fic, I hope you find it and enjoy it!🤍

Michael Ormewood was destined for bigger and better things than Atlanta. You knew in high school, though you only watched him from a distance. He didn’t know you existed, let alone how much you believed in him and his abilities, even when everyone else doubted he’d do anything more than play sports and get into trouble.

So, when he came back to Georgia after the Army and got married, you were surprised, to say the least. The playboy you once wished to know had settled down, had a few kids, and worked his way to detective at the APD. Whenever you see his name in the papers now, you wish once again to know and love Michael Ormewood.

Spending your morning in the police station isn’t ideal, but when they asked for information about a building near where you work, you agreed to come down and answer any questions you could. While talking to the officer, you don’t notice two detectives walk in behind you. Or one stop in his tracks when he sees you.

“She looks so familiar,” Ormewood mumbles as he watches you.

“What’s in the envelope?” Angie asks.

“Divorce papers.”

“Oh!” Angie exclaims. “Are you, uh, are you going to sign them?”

“Oh, not that kind. These are the congratulations; you’re divorced now papers.”

“Ormewood, I’m so sorry.”

“Do you recognize her?”

“What?”

Ormewood points toward you, and Angie purses her lips before shaking her head. She doesn’t recognize you, but she feels like she's about to get whiplash from Ormewood’s quick change of subject. A text from Will draws Angie’s attention, and she directs a very distracted Ormewood toward the elevator to go to a murder scene.

Just as the doors open, you walk up behind Ormewood and join him and Angie in the elevator. He glances at you repeatedly before Angie sighs and leans against the back wall.

“I’m so sorry,” he begins. “But do we know each other?”

You smile and say, “We went to high school together.”

Your smile disappears and your brows raise when he says your name. There’s no reason he should have ever known who you are, but the fact that he remembers after all these years catches you off guard.

“Yeah, that’s me. I’m surprised you remember.”

“Me too,” Angie interjects. “And I didn’t even know you in high school.”

“I was pretty much the same,” Ormewood defends.

“No, you weren’t,” you say softly.

“What do you mean?”

The elevator door opens, and you step out. Leaving Ormewood feels wrong, but you both have lives now, and they are in no way connected.

“It was nice to see you, Ormewood,” you call as you leave.

“You went by Ormewood in high school, didn’t you?” Angie asks excitedly. “Oh, I should’ve guessed that!”

“Why did Mom come and get all of her stuff while we were at school?” Cooper asks. “Did you get divorced? Like Solange’s parents?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Ormewood answers carefully. “But that doesn’t mean we love you or your brother any less.”

“Does it mean you’ll finally learn to French braid my hair?”

Ormewood chuckles at Cooper’s choice of focus but promises that he will learn every hairstyle she wants.

“Let’s master the French braid first,” she decides.

The second time you run into Ormewood, he’s glad that Angie isn’t with him. She’s been teasing him about the encounter in the elevator since it happened. So, when he and Cooper are out shopping, and he sees you walking toward him, he sees another chance.

“Hey,” he says as he gets closer.

“Hi,” you reply happily.

“I heard the information you gave burglary was really helpful.”

You smile at Cooper, but her eyes are laser-focused above your face.

“Your hair is really pretty,” she tells you.

“Thank you! Yours is, too,” you reply.

“Dad’s learning. I’m Cooper.”

You introduce yourself before shifting the shopping basket in your hand to shake hers. “Braids are hard sometimes, but it looks like he’s getting there.”

“Did you do yours?” she asks.

“I did. I learned how to do a lot of braids and other things with my hair when I was a little older than you.”

“My mom can do French braids, but they don’t look like yours.”

At the mention of Cooper’s mom, you remember that you don’t know Ormewood anymore, and this is nothing more than a polite conversation. You do, however, notice that Ormewood doesn’t have a ring on his finger. It doesn’t matter, you remind yourself, because things were never going to be different between you and Ormewood.

“Well, good luck with the braids, Cooper, and it was very nice to meet you,” you offer.

“You too! Dad, I’ll get the cereal,” she says.

When she’s on the other side of you, you meet Ormewood’s eyes and smile.

“She’s great,” you say.

“She has her moments. Listen, thanks for the hair talk. I’m trying but I get lost after the first two seconds,” he replies with a chuckle.

“Just keep practicing. They’re only hard until you learn how to do them right.”

“And if I can’t do that?”

“Fake it. Or find someone who can teach you. It was great seeing you again.”

You disappear around the corner before Ormewood says anything else. Cooper skips back to him with three different kinds of cereal, and he doesn’t complain when she puts them in the cart.

“She’s nice. Are you friends?” she asks.

“I want to be. We went to high school together but haven’t seen each other in a long time.”

“You should invite her over for dinner.”

“You think?”

Cooper nods, and Ormewood wonders when she got smarter and more intuitive than him.

“Just don’t kiss until after I go to bed, Dad.”

Ormewood freezes and his eyes widen. He hasn’t considered what exactly he wanted to happen after you got close again - or for the first time, as it seems - but he can’t argue that it doesn’t sound nice.

“What are you watching?” Angie asks over Ormewood’s shoulder.

“French braid tutorial,” he mumbles.

“You can’t learn from a video, you have to do it,” Will interjects.

“And you’re the expert on French braiding, now?” Ormewood retorts.

“I’m better off than you. Angie made me learn to help her get ready in high school.”

“Then teach me, Trent!”

“No.”

“Detective Ormewood,” an officer calls. “There’s someone here to see you.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right there.”

Ormewood leaves the video playing, and Angie and Will begin critiquing the looseness of the braid in the video. He rolls his eyes and hopes that whoever asked to see him has something worth his time.

“I really hope you’re not here to confess a crime,” he jokes when he sees you waiting.

“Not today,” you answer lightly.

“Then… why are you here?”

“Uh, did you text me last night?”

“What? No. I don’t even have your number; not that I don’t want it, but I don’t have it.”

You pass your phone over, and your fingers brush against Ormewood’s as he takes it. He reads the text twice before shaking his head.

“Angie. My partner must have gotten your number from burglary. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I just didn’t think it was from you.”

“Why not?”

“We’re not… we’re really different, Ormewood.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t text you. Coop wanted me to invite you over for dinner, so maybe Angie actually did me a favor.”

“I, uh, I have to get back to work. If you decide to text me again, great, but don’t feel like you have to.”

“Are you rushing you because of Cooper or is something else bothering you?”

“Ormewood…”

“Just tell me. If you don’t want me to text, I won’t.”

“I remember what it’s like to watch you from a distance, and I don’t know if I want to do that again," you admit.

“Ormewood, we caught a break,” Angie calls from the door behind him. She sees your face and shakes her head. “Tell her you’re divorced and let’s go.”

“You’re divorced?” you ask as he says, “That’s what you meant?”

“Someone divorced you?” you rephrase.

“Look, I regret not getting to know you in high school, but- I’ll text you.”

“I’ll text back,” you promise.

The next invitation text comes from Ormewood’s number, but it’s clearly not him. When your phone rings a moment later, you’re not entirely surprised to hear Cooper on the other end of the line.

“Hi, Cooper. Desperate for a French braid, aren’t you?” you ask.

“Please!” she begs.

“Does your dad know you’re inviting me over?”

“He won’t care, I promise.”

“That’s not what I asked, Cooper.”

“Give me the phone, Cooper,” someone says in the background. “This is Special Agent Will Trent with the GBI. The French braid situation is growing violent and you’re an expert. Get down here now.”

He hangs up and asks Cooper, “Can I stop trying now?” as you look at your phone in confusion.

Cooper scrolls through your photos and asks questions about you and your life (including your nonexistent history with her dad) while you braid her hair.

“He’s texting you,” she says suddenly. “Wants to know if you’ll come over for dinner tonight.”

“What do you think?” you hum. “Am I too busy?”

“Maybe,” she answers.

You secure the end of the first braid with an elastic band and ask her to go look in the mirror to make sure she likes it. Her excited squeal is all the approval you need. As she gets comfortable in front of you again, you start the second braid. The door opens, and your hands stop in her hair as Ormewood steps inside.

“That’s why you didn’t answer,” he says with a smile.

“Special Agent Will Trent of the GBI told me I had to come braid her hair,” you explain quietly.

He looks at Cooper, who shrugs and says, “Angie was busy.”

“Thanks for helping,” Ormewood says. “Mind if I watch?”

You move to the right and he sits beside you, watching as you braid slowly. He asks a few questions about how you’re doing it, and you demonstrate as you answer.

“I bet you can do it now that you’ve seen it from the right angle,” you murmur as you secure the second braid.

“You can try tomorrow, Dad, I’m going to Abby’s.”

Cooper rushes out of the front door, and you turn toward Ormewood. He’s already facing you, and it’s impossible to break eye contact in the new proximity.

“So, dinner?” you whisper.

“Yeah. I’ve got a lot to learn about you.”

[mrsstan21]

New Recruit

GIF credit: @tv-daddy

Tom Hanson x Reader

A/N: my blog is usually dedicated to Sebastian Stan, but I am also a Johnny Depp fanatic as well. My favorite project that he's done was the 1987 tv show 21 Jump Street. I started to rewatch it and decided to write a few short stories. Hope you all enjoy it!

Warnings: None! just fluff and beginning stages

Word Count: 795 :)

The day started off as any other at Jump Street chapel.

Penhall and Ayoki were playing frisbee downstairs while I was upstairs going over crime reports from my last assignment.

I began to hear a lot of commotion coming from downstairs, but didn’t really pay attention to what was going on. 

I was down to the last page which was the most important out of all the papers.

It had all the witness testimonies on it.

Looking further down the document  was a big coffee ring stain right across the testimonies.

I grew frustrated knowing I couldn’t turn this in, but at the same time I don’t remember drinking coffee while filling theses out. 

Then the lightbulb went off in my head. 

Penhall was drinking coffee yesterday when he came to bug me at my desk. 

“PENHALL!”.

I slid down the fire pole to the first floor where all the guys were including a police officer. 

“How many time have I told you not to leave your coffee cup on my desk”. 

He broke into a smirk.

“Including today that would make it what a thousand?”.

My eyes rolled with his sarcastic comment. 

Loved him like a brother but he knew how to get on my nerves. 

“Well thanks to you treating my crime reports like a coster you got a coffee ring all over my witness testimonies”. 

“Alright I’m sorry don’t get so worked up…anyways meet the new recruit”.

I looked over at a guy our age dressed all in police uniform. 

I have to admit he was really cute. 

“Officer Tom Hanson” he extends his hand in a formal manner. 

“Y/F/N, Y/L/N but everyone calls me Y/N/N”. 

I looked at him head to toe right away he took this job way too seriously for his age. 

“I’m supposed to meet with a Captain Jenko” he spoke towards Penhall. 

I walked over to my desk trying to find any extra copies of the testimony when Penhall gets comfortable on top.

“What do you think of the new guy?”.

“I don’t think much Doug I mean I don’t think he knows what he’s got himself into”. 

***

After welcoming him aboard the team Jenko assigned Hobbs make over duty. 

Her and Hason left hours ago, and were still not back yet. 

“What’s taking them so long we have an assignment tonight” Ayoki spoke over at his desk. 

Me and Doug just threw around a ball to keep ourselves entertained. 

“Let’s hope he doesn’t screw this up” Doug spoke. 

“What you think he will?” I asked catching the ball. 

“I don’t know but something tells me this will not go well”. 

We heard footsteps approach the entrance and saw Hobbs with the new Hanson. 

“Well what do you guys think” she asked presenting him. 

Doug and Ayoki couldn’t help but tease him. 

After the two had left to get the car started I stayed back. 

“Well Y/N what do you think?” Jenko asked. 

I glanced at him admiring the fact that he looks way better dressed in a leather jacket than in his police uniform.

“I think he looks great but umm do you mind if I fix something” I ask approaching Hanson. 

He nods. 

I reached for a small strain of his hair, and let it fall onto his forehead. 

“Now that’s better” I flashed a smile.

Hanson returned one as well.

***

Last night did not go exactly as planned in fact Hanson ended up buying a pair of dirty socks than any sort of illegal substance. 

The day started off with Yoki, Penhall, and I trying to jumpstart Hobbs car in the parking lot. 

“Ok try now” Penhall responded.

But all we heard was the sound of the engine still giving out. 

Hanson arrived shorty making a smart comment about the car being Doug’s. 

He was surprised to see that the car belong to Hobbs. 

“Move over” I examined the engine and pulled out a strain piece. 

“Try now Judy”.

And like magic the car started like new. 

Closing the hood I looked over at all three of the boys with their jaws open. 

“What the belt was stuck in the carb” I smirked heading inside the chapel. 

“You know how to fix cars?” Hanson runs up next to me. 

“I used to helped my dad fix up cars when I was younger” I then took a seat at my desk. 

He plopped down right on my desk still in Ah.

“What you didn’t think a girl knew much about cars?”

“No it’s just…”

“Oh wait you thought I spent my off time maxing out my credit card”.

He laughed. 

“Just rarely see a girl as pretty as you know much about cars”. 

I looked down at my lap hiding my rosy cheeks.

[which-hospital]

okay, Mercury’s 80s Casualty Thoughts: Closure (01x15) Edition

(I know I said I’d get back to series 4… I will... soon? also, this is a pretty long 'thoughts' post because I don't have energy to organise them into anything more concise)

this feels like a really weird episode to watch in July because it’s the original Christmas episode

Ewart seeing the end of the night shift as a vote of no confidence and threatening to resign??? Ewart very much belongs in the 80s but he's still one of the original characters I'd like to drag and drop into the current show

S1 Kuba is the best version of Kuba

this meeting scene at Megan’s is so <3 everyone being squeezed into the room and Duffy holding Megan's ashtray is just so... ~natural feeling~

Charlie is right about needing to strike but he's being a dick about it and I like that the show knows that, I also like that interaction between him and the paramedics where Andy suggests a petition and Charlie and Sandra immediately shut the idea down because the patients don't care? very character of them to both feel that way

Megan is another character I'd drag and drop into the current show, she could fix everything with her presence I think

DUFFY AND SUSIE "tell her to pass it on" "she knows that" my sillies, they were fr besties in S1 (lovetrianglelovetriangelo-) I somehow forgot about Susie continuing to defend Duffy not wanting to go to the police in this episode but <3

THE PROTECTIVE SUITS!!!! they all look so ridiculous I love my little guys (the paramedics in the pink ones as well aaa, S1 you will always be famous)

staffroom scene where Duffy is stressing out that she has Lassa Fever and the others are laughing at her is another (like the meeting scene) moment that feels very natural to me just with how everyone is sat and what they're up to? like, Susie eating chocolate and stuff instead of them all just sitting around doing nothing other than existing to have the conversation they're having, I guess?

see, this is just becoming what I knew it would: me listing things that make me smile about this episode

but I love the scene where Charlie is being annoying and trying to get Andy to play piano and Sandra is laughing along with him and also "I'm tone deaf, Andrew, should've thought you'd know that by now" a call back to the second episode!!!

THE WE'LL MEET AGAIN SCENE!!!!!!!!! augh, I am tearing up I need to sleep...... Sandra, Duffy and Susie matching costumes!! Clive and Baz dancing!! Charlie getting the words wrong and Megan laughing at him!!

also, thank you Mickey the old man patient who got stuck in the ED with them for causing this reaction image I love:

sorry Baz's brother, she's not visiting you now cause she's in France with Charlie (actually this is an annoyingly pretty good scene for them... ‘annoying’ because I don’t really like it when I find myself liking Charlie at all)

the protest at the end of this episode feels like such an underrated part of S1, this whole episode does actually, it's so much about the whole team coming together and I just think it's a perfect ending for the first series to have everyone together like that

(DVD commentary implication that they had been drinking when they filmed the final scene)

and Ewart's reaction :( the start of the episode being him saying that he sees the end of the night shift as a vote of no confidence in him vs the end of the episode being everyone coming together to fight for his night shift

Overall: Closure needs to be remembered more when the BBC or official Casualty socials do stuff for the Casualty anniversaries or I will riot.

[kiruamon]

Paper Heart (Part 2: The Present)

Sorry, sorry for the wait. The chapter keept going and going and ended up to be so much longer than I planned! (And I had to translate it which took also a good while.) But now I wish you much fun with the second part of my silly little story!

_

Has it really been almost a year since you started living by yourself? Living all alone in this house you call home. Sometimes it still feels like your parents could suddenly show up at the driveway of the house. As if nothing had ever happened. Just like they always did. Sometimes they disappeared off the face of the earth for a few weeks because of a job, sometimes even for months. The longest period - when you were sixteen - had been six months that felt like forever. But at least back then they had called or sent you a letter every now and then. However, when your parents left for the last time, they only told you that they had to go away for a while because of work. That you should take good care of the house. Where if anything should happen, you would find their papers in case of an emergency. Just in case you needed those. To tell the truth, to this day you have no idea what to do with their research notes. The mountains of folders contain dozens of indexes and random old newspaper and internet articles and handwritten notes on all the junk in the basement that must have collected layer after layer of dust there over the years. Broken, maybe antique furniture and pseudo-occult stuff that your parents collected there while keeping you away from it. You lost interest in trying to look around down there many years ago.

All you know for sure is that one of the reasons your parents were almost never home is all that stuff down there. As a child, you often felt alone because of it and… …you still do whenever you're in this house. It feels too big and empty for one person to live here. But you had this feeling even before they disappeared. It has only grown a bit over the last year. That's probably why you spend so much time in the garden or go on strolls for hours in the nearby fields and woods. Luckily, you can at least count on your best friend not to forget you. Mitchell and you hang out a lot. Either at his place or here. Sometimes he brings his little brother Gavyn with him. It's nice having them around. You're even grateful when Mitch - as he often does - just waltzes in on you without a warning. You know he's worried about you. That he knows that you quickly feel uneasy all alone, even though you always insist that you are fine with it. That you are used to it and can handle it.

… you wish you knew if your parents were okay. If they had an accident. Or… just abandoned you for good, although you don't know why they would do that. Was it because of you? Or was it because of them? Or neither… Or maybe they got into some dangerous business. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time with their strange research. Maybe that's why they can't come back. Of course, you did call the police at some point. But since your parents are adults and you are also of age, the whole incident fizzled out pretty quickly. You remember how tense you had been watching the news for a while. Always with a lingering fear of hearing or reading their names when an accident or another disaster was mentioned. The police simply assumed that they left for good. By now, you almost believe that, too. Either way, there is no point in thinking about it any longer. You've already gone over this issue too many times in your head to waste any more hours on it when there's nothing you can do about it anyway.

Neither does it do you any good to stick to their old rules any longer when they are no longer there. You've always ignored the basement ever since you got in trouble for playing down there when you were in elementary school. You don't remember the details of the incident very well. Only that you must have been alone at home that night and probably felt lonelier than usual. And although you always followed the rules of your parents, you decided to go down to the basement to look around. Of all the things that had been stored down there, it had been some huge, old doll that had caught your eye. It had a weird chamber in the chest and for some reason that you can't remember because it was so long ago, you had made a heart for it and put it in there and pretended it was alive. You probably just wished for someone to be there for you that night. What you clearly remember is the scolding you got from your parents the morning after. For being down there and playing with things that were probably too valuable for the hands of a child. It's hard to blame them for that - especially since they'd never scolded you otherwise - even if their reaction seemed a bit over the top to you today. You also remember… how you cried your eyes out when you saw the torn pieces of the paper heart on the kitchen table.

After that, you were never down there again. Your parents had hidden the key to the basement in a new place. Some years later you stumbled upon the hiding place by pure coincidence, but you never took the key and acted as if you didn't know where it was until today. It simply didn't bother you anymore what old stuff your parents stored down there. Normally you wouldn't have seen any reason to go down to the basement, but this morning when you were half asleep and staggering down the stairs to the first floor, you thought you heard a noise coming from there. Maybe mice. Hopefully not rats. In any case, you decided to go down there after work to check things out. Maybe you have to set up some live traps in case of trouble and to get rid of the uninvited visitors before the situation gets out of control.

Your fingers feel the underside of the desk top in your parents' study and bump into the taped key there. Good. So the hiding spot hasn't changed again. Carefully, you peel off the tape and detach it from the old key and make your way to the basement stairs. Arriving in front of the door, you try to insert the key into the keyhole. The old key doesn't go in easily, but with a little willpower and a few rattles, you manage to unlock the door. Maybe the door has warped a bit over the years… something you could take a closer look at another time to see if you can fix it. For now, you just open the door and shiver a little as a cold breeze brushes your bare arms. Weird. It must be because of how long the basement had been sealed off. There are no windows down here that could be left open. A dusty smell hits you as you take a step into the dark room and your hand searches the wall next to you for the light switch that should be somewhere around here. You feel plastic under your fingers. Luckily, the old ceiling lamp still comes to life as you flip the light switch. "Let's see… ", as expected, there is a lot of old, dusty junk lying around on the shelves and in the glass cabinets. Everything is marked with some kind of numbered label, which at least hints at a certain type of system. You put yourself in motion and keep looking for traces of furry roommates somewhere in the nooks and crannies, wandering deeper and deeper into the miniature labyrinth of old furniture and other curiosities. From time to time you have to squeeze yourself through particularly narrow passages. But so far… no sign of any mice, rats or other animals. That's actually pretty good. Maybe the noise did come from outside. You have almost reached the end of the room when you notice something out of the corner of your eye.

Between a shelf and a nearby glass cabinet, a figure crouches on the floor, half slumped over. Confused, you turn your head to get a better look at it. "Oh. So this is where you've been." Well… where else if not here, right? A small smile flashes across your face as you gaze at the lifeless doll. Seeing it definitely brings back a certain nostalgia. Without hesitation, you approach it and squat down in front of it to get a better look. By now, it looks even gloomier than you remember it. Cobwebs hang between its head and shoulder and you feel sorry for the puppet, how it sits so forgotten and lonely here in the dark. You don't think twice as you reach out your hand and gently wipe away the cobwebs hanging from it. "Well old friend?" you murmur softly to it. It feels a bit like you're seeing an old friend again after a long time. "It's been some time. Do you still recognize me?" Of course, it doesn't give you an answer. How could it? Back then, you just imagined it was talking to you. But it's okay. Your hand wanders further, strokes the cracked chest and you can feel the grooves that hint at the hidden chamber behind it. That's right. There had been a flap. Automatically, you search for a hold with your fingernails and gently pull on the flap until it opens, exposing the chamber in the doll's chest. You blink, staring curiously into the secret chamber. The cavity is as black as if its inside were covered with soot. Or as if it was swallowing up all the light inside. But perhaps it is simply due to the sparse light conditions down here, you think. For one night, a heart had rested in this chamber. A messily cut paper heart that you had decorated with all kinds of stickers, drawings and trinkets to give it to your friend. But now there is only this hole in which yawning emptiness exists. The sight is downright depressing. "Not much going on in there, huh?" you ask quietly, knowing you're just talking to yourself. Gingerly, you close the flap for now. "Well, maybe we can clean you up a bit. Wipe off all that grime." The cracks look rather bad though. There are pieces missing everywhere and you are not sure if it is possible to repair them. Maybe an expert could fix it, but you don't have your hopes up too high.

"Come on. Let's get you upstairs first and give you a closer look," you grab one of its long arms and carefully put it over your shoulder, then you do the same with the other one and hoist it onto your back so you can give it a piggyback ride. "Whew. Okay… not exactly a lightweight, are we?," you grunt softly. Your old friend is much heavier and bigger than it looked while sitting. You have to adjust the weight on your back a bit before you find a good footing where it isn't about to fall off your back. Its arms and hands dangle lifelessly back and forth in front of your chest. "Hold on tight I don't want you to fall off," you mutter half-jokingly and make your way back to the door with slow and careful steps. It's not so easy with your new friend on your back, but somehow you manage to shuffle past the junk without any mishaps. You use your elbow to flip the light switch and carefully push the door shut with your foot as you step out of the basement. The stairs are a bit of a challenge and you move up more slowly to avoid losing your footing on the steps and tumbling all the way back down with your friend. Otherwise that would probably end in more than a few scratches.

When you finally reach the kitchen and set the old doll down on one of the chairs, you need a brief pause to catch your breath. Normally, you're used to lugging heavy stuff around because of your work in the garden and your job. But at least you can take a better look at the doll up here in the daylight. However… sadly you realize that it is in an even worse condition than you already saw in the basement. The fabric of the pants, the night cap and the collar around the neck are completely moth-eaten. There are chipped off larger and smaller pieces all over the arms, hands, and body. The odd spikes on its head are sharp and clearly there are larger pieces missing. A weird piece of paper with some illegible scrawl is stuck to the back of its head, which you figure out is pretty easy to peel off. Since it doesn't seem to belong directly to the doll, the paper just ends up in the trash can for paper waste. After that, the inspection continues and you pucker your mouth a bit as you spot the next big damage. "Oh boy… that looks bad." A large hole gapes at the back of the doll's body. Thankfully, it doesn't seem to extend all the way up into the chest cavity.

And yet you have the feeling that your friend is probably beyond saving. Perhaps you would do him a greater favor if you showed him some mercy and sent him to the scrapyard… You hesitate, walk to the kitchen sink and grab one of the cleaning rags to soak it with water and wring it out. Before you know it you're already wiping the dust and dirt off his face. "Let's clean you up before we do anything else," even if you're going to take him to the scrapyard tomorrow, you want to at least do this much for him. You give him a small encouraging smile and continue to wipe him clean, rinsing the rag every now and then to remove the stubborn layers of dirt, dust and unidentifiable stains that cling to his body.

It's already evening when you're finally done. He still gives off a rather sorry sight, but it's still a little better than it was before. There's not much more you can do for him… Except… You raise your head a little. There is one thing, perhaps, that you can do. Just for old times' sake. And maybe also because you feel you owe it to your eight-year-old self. Faster than you can reconsider, you've already brought a pair of scissors and some old craft supplies from your room into the kitchen and spread them out on the table, eager to get to work. For his final journey you want to give him something on his way. You are still no expert at crafting. But at least this time the heart-shaped cardboard template looks a bit better than the old version. And maybe you're a tad proud of that. You try to remember what the original heart looked like, but you can't quite remember the exact details. What color did you choose for the heart? Red? No, it was definitely not red. Your gaze wanders over the colorful sheets of paper in front of you. Blue? Yellow? Both? You think you somehow used both colors. "Hmmm… how about this… ", you use your template to cut out both a yellow and blue heart and simply glue the two hearts together. Now you have both - a yellow and blue side for the heart!

What else? You glued all kinds of stuff on it back then. But you have no idea where your old sticker books have gone. Probably such old stickers wouldn't stick very well anyway. You could try to draw something on the front and back. But well, that's not your big strength either. Perhaps it could be a little simpler, after all, it's the thought that counts in the end. So you decide to write down in words whatever comes to your mind and what you probably wanted to express with your decorations as a child. The blue side facing you comes first. And immediately the star and moon stickers pop into your mind. So you write down the words moon and stars. What next? What else can you think of? You've got plenty of room. "Maybe… night, sleep, rest… um… whisper?", slowly the blue space starts to fill up a bit. It's like you're playing an association game. All by itself, your head adds more words to the previous ones, which your hand immediately writes down. Shadows, because the night is full of them and not everything is as bad as it seems at first sight. At night the world seems mysterious, almost strange. As if it was full of magic. You also think of music. Some soft melody that makes you fall asleep. Perhaps you only think of it because you turned on the radio earlier to fill the silence in the house. But you wonder a little what it would say about you, if someone would analyze this. Anyway. You turn the heart over to the yellow side.

"If one side is the moon, then this one is the sun," plus the friendly yellow just fits too well. Good. So what do you associate with the sun? "The day. Warmth," plenty motivated you write down your thoughts. The day brings fun with it. You can meet your friends to laugh and play games with. You have more pep in your step and are more motivated. Wow, some of that sounded pretty much like stuff a kid would write down and you laugh quietly at yourself. "Well, it fits good enough," your younger self would definitely agree with what you wrote down here. You look over at the doll with a grin. What else could you write down? "What else could I give you to take along?" you ask yourself quietly, looking down at the paper heart again. There were so many things. So many wonderful things. "May there always be a light inside your heart - no matter how small - that will guide you even through the darkest of times," for the blue side. "May you find the courage inside you to face even your worst fears and never forget how much beauty there is in this world," for the yellow side. … okay, okay, now that sounded a bit like something you directed at yourself. Super cheesy as well, you think to yourself, a tad embarrassed but smiling nonetheless. But hey, no one but you would ever get to read this anyway.

Good, now there's hardly any space left on the two pages. Your eyes roam over all the craft supplies. You notice the little tins filled with colored glitter. Hmmm… Would that be too over the top, perhaps? "… Oh, why not?" Surely a little extra sparkle can't hurt! So you carefully drag one of the glue sticks between the written words over the yellow side of the heart a few times, and then sprinkle some gold colored glitter on top of it. After that, you have to be patient until it dries before you turn the side over and coat it with glue as well and then decorate it with silver glitter. "Nice work," you say with a proud grin and examine both sides of your work once again with satisfaction.

"It might not be exactly the same, but I hope you don't hold it against me," you joke light-heartedly, looking into the hollow eyes of your silent friend. Now that the heart is finished, you get up from your seat and stand in front of the doll that had been waiting patiently on the chair next to you for the last half an hour. Gently you open the flap to the chamber in its chest again. Even up here with better lighting, its insides remain shrouded in total darkness. Pretty weird. But you don't think too much about it. You shrug your shoulders and carefully grasp your self-made heart. "Even if it doesn't make you whole anymore… Maybe it will at least fill a little of the emptiness inside you and can accompany you on your final journey." Gently, you place the heart in his chest, with a feeling as if you were dipping your hand in ice water until you pull it back out of the chamber, shuddering. You frown in bewilderment at this sensation and look at your hand. Nothing out of the ordinary to be seen. Except... for all the glitter and glue clinging to it! You chuckle softly at the sight. You'd better wash that off or you'll have that stuff all over your face and on your clothes later. But before you do, you carefully close the flap and throw a warm smile at your silent friend. "It's almost like old times now," you say with tenderness in your voice. Well, except for the fact that you're not a little kid anymore. Other than that, it's amazing how little has changed. You're still talking to a doll. Maybe you should try socializing more if you're so eager for someone to talk to. Your eyes wander to the clock above the kitchen door. "Eight-thirty already?" you hadn't realized it was so late. A glance out the window also tells you that the sun has nearly disappeared. A last strip of red light blinks over the hedge that surrounds the back garden. Time to make yourself something for dinner, you guess.

You turn away from the doll and head for the sink to wash your sticky hands clean before preparing dinner. You've barely taken three steps when a noise causes you to flinch suddenly. It sounds as if something heavy had fallen to the floor somewhere behind you. The doll, it goes through your mind and you already imagine in your thoughts how it must have slipped off the chair. … did it stay in one piece? Worried, you want to check if everything is all right with it and hope that it survived the fall without further damage. But you don't even have a chance to turn around and look at the doll to confirm your suspicions. Right and left to your side, hands shoot out of nowhere, grabbing you before you even realize what's happening and dragging you backwards with such force that you can't breathe. You are far too perplexed to scream. It takes a moment before a feeling of panic strikes you. But now that it's there, it swells with every second, like a spreading fire in a wooden house. Your heart pounds as if you've done a sprint and speeds up even more as you feel your body pressed tightly against something stiff. Your breathing becomes more frantic. What is this? What is happening here? The hairs on your arms stand up as a cold shiver runs over them.

Someone has grabbed you, you finally realize. Someone has entered your home and is holding you captive. Unnaturally large fingers dig into the fabric of your T-shirt, fueling the sinking feeling in your stomach that you are in some serious trouble right now. That's definitely not Mitch, who snuck in through the open patio door and is just trying to surprise you with an unannounced visit. You don't dare turn your head to look at your captor. The stranger still says nothing. Gives no instructions or anything else that tells you what his intentions might be. He just holds you tight. Which only makes the whole thing so much worse, because it fuels your brain with the worst possible outcomes and makes you break out in cold sweat. Will you end up with a knife in your back or chest any minute now? Are they going to drag you off? Do they want to rob you? Or does this have something to do with your parents and whoever this is wants to get their revenge on you now, too, for some crazy reason?

"Look… I-I have… n-no idea w-what you want… b-but if it's just money or something… t-then just… t-take whatever you want… " Your voice is shaking like crazy, just like the rest of your body. If they weren't holding you, your legs probably would have already given way. You feel tears welling up in your eyes from the desperation of this situation and which are clouding your vision. You are terrified. And still they remain silent without telling you what they want from you. Seconds are passing insufferably slow, just feeding your panic and fear even more. One of the two hands removes itself from you. This is probably the moment when the knife comes! Or a pistol… In the movies and newspapers, it's always like that. Your stomach tightens as if it could already feel the blood flowing from the upcoming wound. Breathing becomes almost impossible by now, and you squeeze your eyes so tightly shut that it already hurts. You don't want to see it coming when it happens and you hope it will be quick. So fast that you might not even notice.

Something brushes your cheek. Cold. It doesn't feel like a knife or a gun, though. Your irritation-flooded body needs a moment to identify it as a finger. The stranger strokes your tear-soaked cheek. He does so with such extreme care that you blink in disbelief and open your eyes. You're still alive, you realize, and gasp for some air. Only now do you notice that the hand around your belly did also become much looser. Maybe you could escape, if only you were able to think clearly. His fingers feel cool while they move from your cheek to your chin, slowly lifting it until something other than the kitchen ceiling enters your field of vision. You're not sure what you're seeing at first. Your head only processes bits and pieces that catch your eye. You see dark blue fabric, yellow stars on the nightcap that dangles from the intruder's head. A shiny golden bell swings back and forth above your head, making a soft tinkling noise. The stranger's eye sockets glow in a dim, soft red light. One white eye and one red eye stare down at you without blinking once. The round face is split into a light and dark side. Almost like a crescent moon in the night sky. Moon and stars, you think. It is impossible to take your eyes off this sight and you may have held your breath for a moment as you slowly put the pieces together in front of you. This is not a mask. This is not a man. Or even a human. Not an intruder. Not a stranger. You brought him up here yourself. He looks different. But you still think you recognize him. You see his mouth, stretched into a wide grin, which certainly wasn't there before and how it slightly shifts. His voice is soft and like a whisper as he mouths a single word to you: "Friend."

"…" The lump in your throat loosens while your body continues to feel tense. "… hi… ", you stammer quietly. It's all your overwhelmed head can manage as a response at this moment, while you still stare up into the face of the doll that has come to life. Somewhere on the way between the basement and the kitchen, you must have hit your head pretty hard. Maybe you did fall down the stairs trying to carry him up here. Lying unconscious in front of the basement door and imagining something. This simply can't be real… It's impossible. And yet you can still feel his fingers on your skin and how the weight of his arm now rests gently on your shoulder instead of pressing against your stomach. … Maybe it's a very realistic dream….

"… would… ", your voice falters for a moment and you need a second attempt to find it. "Would… you maybe let me go?", you ask as careful as possible and indeed, surprisingly, he follows your request. "Th-thank you," you mumble under your breath, quietly and somewhat uncertainly, almost expecting that he might grab you again right away. But nothing like that happens. You slowly take a few shaky steps forward before you turn around on unsteady legs to get a better look at what you're dealing with here. He's… freakin' huge, and that's despite the fact that he's standing in front of you in a somewhat crouched position. His head turns slightly to the side, his eyes watching your every move curiously, like a cat seeing a mouse for the first time in its life. You swallow a little.

Apparently you're not the only one of you who wants to know what he's dealing with here. You run a hand over your head and through your hair. Your hands still feel somewhat sweaty. Haha… hah… this just has to be a dream… just… a very realistic dream… A doll can't just come to life! There's no such thing! It cannot exist. You look past him to the chair where you had put the doll earlier, but of course it's empty. After all, he is standing right in front of you. You swallow again and look up at him. He hasn't moved an inch. Almost as if he's waiting for you to do something. You honestly have no idea what he expects from you. Or if he really expects anything from you. Take a deep breath. In and out. In and out. Calm down. There seems to be no danger to your life for now. "So… you… are?" you ask in a first timid attempt to learn more about the being before you. "A friend," comes his immediate answer. He sounds fully convinced of it. Like it's a simple fact that he establishes in his unusual whispering voice. "O-okay… okay," that's the second time he's said that now. You're still pretty nervous, but it's nowhere near as bad as it was a few minutes ago, and seeing him right in front of you like this makes it all a little less scary. You can handle it. Just stay calm. You put your sweaty and glittery palms together, lift them in front of your face, take another deep breath, and lower them again. It's not the worst sign that he's calling you his friend. Or so you hope… But it's also not what you wanted to know. "I meant more… what you are?" The question seems to confuse him, he stares at you, tilting his head from side to side as if thinking. Then, suddenly, he turns it further and further - like one of those fortune wheels at fairgrounds - until his head completes a full turn and pauses again in its original position. "Can't remember," is his only reply, while there's a far-too-large, unreadable grin on his face. Oooooookay, that was a teeny tiny bit creepy now… Well, more creepy than the whole situation already is. But aside from… whatever that just was, he still shows no signs on wanting to hurt you. So you scrape up your courage and try again with a different approach. "Do you have a name?" Anxiously, you wait. His eyes linger on you. "No." "Oh, no name huh," that surprises you a little. Somehow you had assumed he would have one. "Do you just not remember it or have you never had one?" is why you want to know, feeling your tension lessen a little with each word you two exchange. "Yes." You frown. Um… that wasn't a very helpful answer… You start to wonder if he can even understand you properly. Silently, you sigh. Somehow this isn't going anywhere. But you haven't given up yet! "Are you… really the doll from the basement?" you wonder quietly, directing the question more to yourself than to him, because it all seems so unreal to you. But it is strange… Where were the spikes on his head? You don't see any broken pieces lying around on the floor, which would had suggested that they had fallen off… And… besides, now that you think about it, he doesn't look so worn out anymore. The damaged areas on his body and clothes seem to have vanished completely… Strangely enough, at the mention of the basement, he ducks his head a bit and frowns a little. Almost as if the thought of this place makes him uncomfortable. Except for the discomfort on his side, he seems to be quite willing to answer you, though, because you get another short yes from him as confirmation. Good. At least this suspicion has been confirmed. So much for that…

You're still not quite sure if this is all really happening or not. Actually, there are a lot of reasons that would speak against it. You could just test it out. What should you do again to see if you are dreaming or not? Oh yes, pinch your arm. You raise your left arm in front of your chest and pinch your skin once with your fingers. Ouch! That hurt more than you expected it to! A hand comes into your field of vision, grabs your hand and holds it tightly. Startled, you look up to see a red eye and a white eye staring back at you, visibly concerned. "You're hurting yourself," his voice sounds slightly worried. His reaction surprises you so much that you automatically stutter out an, "Sorry." Your mind, meanwhile, is spinning. It hurt.

The spot on your arm still throbs mildly from the pain. And you clearly feel his hand resting around your wrist. This… this can't possibly be real. It would be beyond absurd. Far from all logic. As if in trance, you raise your free hand, placing it shakily on his face, because you simply have to make sure. He holds still, not shying away from your touch even if he seems a bit surprised by it. Slowly you stroke over every little bump and dip. Tracing the little grooves in his face with your fingers. It feels far too real to be a dream. While it should be impossible, you realize that this isn't a daydream. He is really here. Just like you're really here. "But how… " you whisper and fall silent again. You can't help but remember the half-faded memory of that evening. Your first visit in the basement. Your first meeting with your "friend". A doll. So big that you fitted into its lap. That you pretended it was real. Because you felt lonely and didn't wanted to be alone. You spent an entire evening with him as a child. Your throat feels like it's closing up. Your parents never really scolded you before. Except back then. They knew, you realize, and you see the pitiful remains of the torn paper heart as clearly before your eyes as if they were actually lying there in front of you. You cried for so long, even days later you were heartbroken and felt terrible. Because your parents had taken your friend's heart from him. 'Cause they had torn it into little pieces that you couldn't have patched up together with all the duct tape in the world. And because they had locked him back in the dark basement all alone. Oh god… that just… couldn't… be… Finally you begin to understand what's happening here. And at the same time you feel as if you don't understand anything anymore. Confused, you withdraw your hand from his face. "How can that be? How can it be that you… that you are alive?" In your heart you already know the answer, but you need to hear it. Because head-wise, you just can't understand it. Because it shouldn't be possible. Because such things as magic and the like don't really exist. Should not exist. Magic doesn't exist. Not like in the stories you know from your books. He looks at you, the index finger of his free hand first pointing at you, then tapping against the closed flap on his chest. "You gifted us with a heart," his hand rests on his chest in an downright tender gesture, almost as if he can feel the paper heart beating inside it. Wow… that's just… all a bit too much at once. "I… I don't understand how… I mean it was just… ", just a paper heart. That's all it was. So how… You didn't even realize he was still holding your right hand. Until he slowly lets go of it and you feel like you're about to lose the ground under your feet.

In the next moment his hands are already wrapped around you again and this time you understand that he is doing this to pull you into a hug. He never intended to harm you… This time he is also much more careful with you. Like you might break if he touches you too roughly. Or maybe he's just worried you might have another panic attack. You just let him hold you. And although you feel completely overwhelmed, you don't even feel a hint of fear anymore, unlike before. No idea if that is wise or not. Maybe it would be normal to be afraid. To run away from him as fast as possible. But… instead, all you can think about is how long he was locked away in the darkness. Completely abandoned and nearly forgotten with time. Perhaps he had hoped that you would set him free? That you as his friend would come one day and save him? How lonely it must have been to spend all those years down there, without knowing when someone would finally come to look after him… "… what are we supposed to do now?", you hear yourself wondering and feel your hands clinging to him, because you fear that otherwise one of you might just vanish into thin air.

You have no idea how long you both stood there before your head finally felt clear enough to fully register your surroundings. At some point, he started humming softly to himself and stroking your back. Much like you would do with a frightened child. It's soothing. You have to admit that much to yourself. Your forehead rests against his chest. Which, amazingly, actually feels a tiny bit warm and yielding. Not like a human or a normal living being, but still… He is alive. You still can't really make sense of all these things that are happening here, but… at least you've collected yourself enough that you don't feel like you're losing your mind anymore. For the time being, you hope it will stay that way. You go over all the information you've received from him so far in your head. Somehow your self-made paper heart has managed to give him some life. For the… second time. You try to remember the details of your first meeting, but it has been so awfully long ago that it is difficult for you. You think he looked a little different then. Before he came to life, he didn't look the same either. The spikes around his head are missing. And there are bells on the red bands of his wrists that definitely weren't there before. And his colors seem less pale and much more vibrant. You're not quite sure what it means. Maybe it's not too important. At least not so important that you need answers to it right away. Some questions can certainly wait. One thing is clear, though. The idea with the scrapyard is totally canceled! You already felt terrible about it when you considered that option, but now that he's alive, you have no doubt that it would be downright wrong to do that to him.

In some way, it's almost luck that your parents are gone and you now live here alone. As soon as you start thinking about it, you regret the thought. You feel guilty for thinking such things, because it sounds like you are glad that they went missing - or possibly even dead. You may have no idea why they acted the way they did back then, but maybe now that you're an adult you could have talked to them calmly about the situation? Stopped them from locking him away again? Maybe they could have given you answers to some of the questions that your friend can't seem to give you. Well… either way, there's no use thinking about it anymore. They won't be coming back… So it shouldn't be a problem to keep your friend here in the house. The nearest neighbors also live pretty far away. The house is so far out of town that usually no one comes here without a reason. So you don't have to worry about anyone discovering him soon. You don't even want to imagine the chaos that would otherwise follow. Still, you'll probably have to give it some thought. Just in case of an emergency. That is… if he even wants to stay with you… You feel your heart sink a little. You've just accepted it. But… actually, you have no idea what he is thinking about this matter. Or if he has a place where he truly belongs. To which he is drawn. You would like to ask him about it. You want to talk to him and you remember that he doesn't have a name. "Um… say… would… it be okay if I gave you a name?" Oddly tense as if you're asking him something unimaginably stupid, you await his answer. Chances are, he's not okay with this at all. His hand comes to a rest on your back in mid-motion. Carefully you look up at him, noticing that your cheeks are getting a little warmer from embarrassment, and you try to guess from his face what he is thinking. He… looks stunned. Like he didn't expect you to ask him something like that. Oh darn! It probably was a stupid idea in the first place!

"Say it," he whispers to you. His eyes resting gently on you. His smile seems much softer than before. O-okay? Guess that counts as a yes, then. "So… I was thinking… maybe… Moon," you suggest, incredibly nervous. Maybe the name is too childish… or too simple, but when you looked at him, it was the first thing that came to your mind. He just reminds you of the moon. And… and… geez. You look up at him and for some reason you're already expecting him to make a grimace. Maybe it's not such a great idea as you first thought! "I-if you don't like it then-" "Accepted," he interrupts you with a wide and almost amused grin on his face. Against all odds, he looks pleased about his new name. "Oh. Oh… good! Well then… nice to meet you Moon," you smile at him a bit sheepishly and just say the name again to test how it feels. It sounds right to call him so and he also looks at you delighted. Wow. You really feel much better now. He… likes his name. Moon likes his new name! You can't hold back the big smile that appears on your lips. Unfortunately, it is slightly dampened when you think about what you actually wanted to ask him. "Well… I… was wondering… what you're up to now. I mean now that you're alive and all," you explain in a rush. Maybe a little too rushed, but you'd rather get this over with quickly than drag out the question forever. Still, you feel uneasy about it now. As if you could lose your newly found friend right away. " … ", he seems to be thinking. His head lowers towards you. You feel it leaning gently against yours. It's strange how soothing his presence is to you. "Fulfilling your wish." What? "My… wish?" you repeat, confused and with no idea what he's talking about. You don't remember ever having mentioned anything in this direction. And he makes no attempt to be more specific. You feel his fingers digging a little more into the fabric of your shirt before they slowly loosen. The weight of his head on yours also lightens as he straightens himself a little. You have the feeling that Moon wants to say something to you. His hand moves from your back down along your arm and all the way to your hand, which he takes in his and lifts it in front of his face to take a closer look at it for whatever reason. "You should wash your hands~" For a moment, you're silent. Then the corners of your mouth move up and you can no longer manage to fight down the laughter rising in your throat.

"Seriously?" you ask, half in disbelief, half laughing. Of all the things he could have told you, this is what's bothering him the most? You fight your laughing fit with a few deep breaths, some scattered chuckles still creeping into them, and see his eyes narrow into a satisfied smile. "Fine. If you give me my hand back… " you wiggle the fingers of the hand he's holding demonstratively. "I'll gladly do as you say," you finish the sentence with an amused snort. Somehow, the tension is finally gone now. You smile kindly at him and watch as his fingers slowly let go of your hand. You had planned to wash your hands from the beginning anyway, before a certain someone stopped you by giving you the fright of your life with a hug! He follows you around the table, watching every single step you take with great interest. From opening the faucet to washing your sticky and glittery hands with a little soap under the water stream. After you finally get all the sticky and glittery stuff washed off your hands, you turn the faucet off again. Only to see a hand reach past you and push the faucet lever in front of you open and shut several times before his hand withdraws and he turns his attention fully back to you. Hmmm. You should probably give him a little crash course soon on how certain things work around the house. Just so he doesn't accidentally flood your kitchen or bathroom.

"I'll give you a little house tour later." You peer over your shoulder at him as you dry your hands on a dish towel. "I mean… " you take a deep breath. So far, none of you has said it directly. Again, you feel a small pang of nervousness rising in the pit of your stomach. It's all good. Just say what you're thinking. What's the worst that can happen? "… I was just thinking… if you don't have any other plans and… want to stay here, then it might be easier if you know quickly where everything is and how things work", you try to smile confidently, but you can't quite pull it off. Damn, you feel queasy, because you still don't know if he's planning to stay here at all. Why do you even get your hopes up? That's stupid, if not quite selfish of you. Moon can do whatever he wants and doesn't owe you anything. Besides, you would feel even worse if he would stay with you only out of pity or some weird sense of duty…

His posture stiffens a bit and he ducks down so far that he now has to look up at you instead of the other way around. "You… want us to stay?" It almost sounds like he can't quite believe it. … maybe… Moon had felt as insecure as you this whole time? Wondering if you wanted him here or if you were going to send him away. You put the towel aside, carefully turning to face him and leaning towards him to be at the same face level as he is. "I mean, you need a home, right?" Moon still seems hesitant. Or in doubt. You're not quite sure why. "Listen Moon. I… I don't want to force you to stay here if that's not what you want," you explain in a hurry, backpedaling from your last statement, thinking that he might feel compelled to follow your wishes. Perhaps you were mistaken and he was only so hesitant because he had no intention of staying here and your suggestion is now pushing him in that direction? Wow! You did exactly what you said you wouldn't do and feel upset about yourself. Hopefully you can set things straight again. "You are free to go wherever you like, I just thought… if this is a place you could stay… or wanted to stay… then… " Then… it would be nice if he would choose staying with you. But you can't say that without risking to influence his decision or make him feel bad in the end. So you keep that part to yourself.

His hand reaches out to you. You feel his so much larger, cool fingers touch your hand. Gently clasping it. His head is turned toward the floor, making it impossible for you to tell what kind of face he's making. The tip of his dark blue nightcap dangles back and forth between you. And even though you're so close to him, you have trouble understanding his voice when he finally answers you. "Are you sure? Do you really want us with you?" He sounds shaken. Almost afraid. As if he couldn't quite believe that this is what you really want. That it's too absurd that you could want him near you. Even though it hurts you to see him so crushed, you feel your little glimmer of hope from earlier coming back and gently asking to be let in. Evidently you weren't so wrong with one of your previous assumptions. Well… in this case… it might be okay if you be honest with him now. When instead of holding back, you tell him what you want to dispel his doubts. "Yes. I am sure of it. I want you to stay with me," you leave no room for doubt when you say those words. Of course you are insecure about many things and you have a thousand questions and no idea if you will find the answers to all of them. You also don't have the slightest idea what exactly he is. Surely you will encounter some problems. Perhaps not everything will always be easy. But all this doesn't change the fact that you want him to stay with you. That you want to give him a home. If you encounter problems, you will find solutions for them! That's what friends are for, after all. Together you'll get through it. "You're my friend, after all," you add with a soft smile, and with the index finger of your free hand, you give the bell on his cap a little poke, causing it to chime lightly. His head slowly lifts and finally you can look him in the face again. Moon looks like he still can't quite grasp what you've just told him, but slowly it seems to come through to him how sincere you are about it. Without hesitating, you grab his free hand and pull him up with you until you are both standing upright again. With a beaming smile on your face, you look at your tall friend. You want to show him that everything is alright and he doesn't need to worry. This time you are the one taking the initiative and hugging him. Also in order to show him that you really want him to be here. It seems to work, because you can see the corners of his mouth moving up bit by bit until he returns your smile. "Then we'll stay."

You feel sooooooo much better after this is finally settled. In fact, you're so relieved that you're just now realizing that you're pretty hungry. Well, no surprise there. Time for dinner is long overdue. The house tour will just have to wait a tad longer. Ever so carefully, you step out of the embrace. "I guess I should prepare dinner. Are you hungry too?" Could living dolls - or whatever he is - actually get hungry? And if so… did he need anything special to eat? You look at him a little questioningly, and his faceplate tilts away to the side at that unnatural angle again. Is he trying to imitate you right now? "Hungry?" he asks, and you're not quite sure if that means he's hungry or not sure what that even means. Frowning in thought, you look at his mouth. When Moon speaks, it sometimes moves, but somehow still seems like it's carved into his face, which makes it all the more amazing that Moon can show so much facial expression. The observation, while fascinating, leaves you about as wise as you were before. You have no idea if your friend here can even eat food. Logically, it seems completely impossible, but you probably won't get very far with logic, considering the situation you're in.

"Just wait… I'll prepare something and then we can test whether you can eat it or not." You don't have a better idea at hand at the moment and you doubt that an internet search on the subject would help you much. So you start rummaging around in the kitchen cupboards and the fridge for something edible that you can prepare without much effort. Always closely followed by your new roommate. A little too close, as you quickly realize when you turn away from the fridge with your hands full and almost bump into him. "Oh boy. That was close," you stifle a laugh, but have to smile nonetheless. "Moon," you say softly, drawing out the O a little. "You're welcome to watch me, but please do it in a way that I don't accidentally run into you. We don't want to cause any accidents in the kitchen. All right?" you ask him without sounding annoyed, merely giving him an amused look. Luckily, so far you've only had some vegetables, cheese, and a pack of sliced ham in your hand, and not a sharp knife. So everything turned out fine. No one got hurt and so there is no reason to panic. You can understand that this is all new to him. That he wants to know what you're doing. He's acting a bit like Gav when he was a little kid and always wanted to see what Mitch and you were doing, even if you were just fixing the tire on one of your bikes. So Moon possibly feels the same way as Mitch's little brother did back then. Thankfully, he does as you ask and stands at your side while you spread out the food from the fridge on the countertop. Yeah, this is much more comfortable when working.

Since it's already quite late, you won't start cooking anything. But at least you still have the motivation to make some sandwiches. With your newly gained freedom to move, it goes pretty quickly. In no time, the fresh vegetables are washed and cut with a knife. The tomato and cucumber slices land together with the lettuce leaves neatly arranged on the sandwich halves smeared with butter. To be on the safe side, you put cheese on two of the sandwiches and ham on two of the other sandwiches, because you're not sure which of them would be more to Moon's liking. That is, if any of it is to his taste at all. Well, you will have to try and see what works. Smiling, you lift the two plates of sandwiches. "It's nothing special, but: Dinner's ready~" you announce with a gleeful grin to your friend, and carry the plates over to a spot on the table where there's no craft stuff in the way to place them. "Come on, let's sit down." You pull up a chair for Moon and then another for yourself on which you take a seat. With the palm of your hand, you tap the empty chair next to you, smiling and motioning for him to do the same. He comes closer, his hand stroking the wooden back of the chair before he carefully sits down on it and looks at you eagerly, as if he wants to know what will happen next. The scene is actually kind of cute.

But okay, you don't want to put him on the rack any longer! You grab one of the cheese sandwiches and hold it out to Moon. "Here you go," you watch excitedly as he cautiously takes it from you and holds it closer in front of his face, where he looks at it from all sides as if he hadn't just seen how you had prepared it yourself. However… he doesn't make any attempt to eat it. On the contrary, he holds it out to you again. Huh… Does he just want to mirror your gesture from before? He seems to imitate some of the things you do. Or does he just not know what to do with it? "It's meant to be eaten," you explain, but his head just tilts to the side again, while his arm continues to be stretched out towards you. You cross your arms and put your head back for a moment, pondering. " Well… it's like… ", how do you explain eating? Oh! Maybe it would be easier to just show him! You look at him with a confident grin. "I'll show you how to do it, okay?" you blurt out being plenty motivated and thinking it's a pretty good idea. Showing, rather than telling. You bend over a little and bite off a piece of the top of the sandwich he is still holding in front of your nose anyway. "See? Like this," you say as you chew, hoping that's descriptive enough for him to understand. "You… chew it… and… swallow it behind when you're done," you try to explain further with your mouth full. Tensely, you watch Moon pull his hand back, look at the bitten part, then back at you, and no sooner as you've swallowed it down, he's holding the sandwich out to you again. His eyes shine a tiny bit brighter, making him look really gleeful. "Say, Ahhh," his voice sounds downright teasing and his mouth twists into a wide, playful grin.

You raise your eyebrows when you hear him. You didn't teach him that…. … He knows exactly what he's doing! Oh, what a trickster~! You laugh out loud and shake your head at him in disbelief. "You do realize I'm not a child you have to feed. Right?" His amused expression doesn't falter one bit. "Doesn't matter. You have to eat," he makes it sound like there's nothing more to it and that he hasn't just fooled you for his own amusement by making you think he had no idea what it meant to eat. Apparently, behind the quiet facade of your new roommate hides quite a little prankster. Which probably means that your time with him certainly won't be boring, as you happily note to yourself. "That may be true, but you could have told me something if you already knew what eating meant." "… You didn't ask. Besides, it was funnier that way~", a soft giggle reaches your ears and you roll your eyes, grinning at his comment. Well, at least he's honest enough to admit it. "Meanie," you reply without meaning it seriously, since it is way too hard to take offence at his little joke. And in fact, instead of asking him about it, you jumped to the wrong conclusions from his behavior and decided to act ahead of things. So next time you will try to play it safe first. But in any case, it also means that he already has a bit of basic knowledge. Besides, you've noticed for a while now that he understands you a lot better and knows how to express himself than he seemed to in the beginning. Which is really good! That means you can talk so much easier with each other! Maybe he can read as well? You should definitely find out! But maybe not right now. One thing at a time. "All right. I've learned my lesson. So would you be so kind and tell me if you need to eat?" you ask him, becoming a bit more serious. After all, you want to be able to take good care of him. "Eating is not necessary," he tells you as if the idea alone is very silly to him. Okay. But not necessary and not possible were still two different pairs of shoes. And the one did not automatically exclude the other. As if he had already guessed your thoughts, he keeps talking.

"We can't take it to us anyway." "Oh." Well… so much for that, then. You lightly rub the back of your neck with your hand. "I see… " That's almost a bit of a shame. It probably would have been fun to cook for two instead of just for you. But no big deal. At least you're a little smarter now! "Okay, so no edibles. But… is there anything else you need? To feel… well?" You're not sure yourself what else he might need. Water? Magic? Sunshine? Electricity? Nonsense, he is not a machine. And not Frankenstein's monster either. But does he need… some kind of energy to move? Some bizarre magic ritual? A bath in the light of the full moon or something whacky like that? Slightly braced, you hope for an answer to this question. The sly expression from earlier has disappeared from his face, suddenly looking much softer as he stares at you and assures you: "We have everything we need. No need to worry about it." You're not quite sure if that's true, but there's no reason to doubt Moon's words either. So you decide to trust him and nod slightly. "Fine, I'll take you at your word. But if there's ever anything I can help you with or so, tell me right away. No need for false modesty. Okay?", the least you can do is offer your help to him. Not that he's just holding back for some odd reason. You know how it feels when you don't say what you actually want out of consideration for others, and you'd just be happy if he'd be straightforward with you instead, if there's something you can do for him. "Agreed~." You close your eyes and breathe out slowly. Good, so that's also clarified. You've learned something new again. When you open your eyes, you find the sandwich you have bitten into right in front of your face. Again. "Now eat." He makes no move to put it in your hand, obviously wanting to continue feeding you. Also, the playful grin is back. For maybe five seconds, you consider whether it's worth the effort or your pride to get into a discussion with him that he really doesn't has to feed you to make you eat. You decide: No, it's not worth it. So you just take a good bite of the sandwich offered to you. Let him have his fun, you will certainly not let him tease you with something like this.

During your house tour, Moon followed you like a duckling wherever you led him, while he curiously looked at the individual rooms on the first floor, which included the kitchen, the living room, a small bathroom, and a guest room. You only left out the basement for obvious reasons. Since neither of you was particularly eager to go back down there. At this point, you're leaving the bathroom upstairs, which is a lot bigger than the one downstairs and also has a bathtub in it. You want to save your room for last. So you turn right and follow the hallway to the end, where there are two doors opposing each other. "And this is… this is… ", your shoulders stiffen a bit as you stare at the closed door of your parents' now unused bedroom. "Well… my parents' bedroom." Unlike the other rooms, you hesitate to open it. It still feels awkward to just walk in there, even after nearly a year. You don't usually enter it unless you air it out or do some vacuuming and dusting once a month in there. Reaching for the door handle, your hand pushes it down to open the door. You've left mostly everything as it is. Except for the bedding, which you took off at some point to wash it before putting it away in the large closet on the wall so it wouldn't collect any more dust. Unlike the other rooms, you stop at the doorstep, not entering, but give Moon a chance to go in. However, he seems to notice that this room makes you uncomfortable, because like you, he refrains from going inside and just looks at it from the hallway. "They are no longer here. They… um… never mind, it isn't that important… Anyway, it's just the two of us here. So… no need to worry, okay?" This time he doesn't have to worry about losing his heart or his newfound freedom again. Since Moon don't look like he wants to go in, you carefully close the door before turning to the other one.

Much less timidly, you open it and turn on the light as you enter. "Well, and this is their study," the room is quite large. Lots of piled up bookshelves with old looking books and file folders that line up in what feels like endless rows are in here. A large desk made out of dark wood stands near the shelves, while there is a small sitting area at the other end of the room that consists of a flat table, an armchair, and a sofa that can fit two people. Both the desk and the flat table have various writing utensils and closed folders lying around. The loose papers with handwritten notes, which used to be scattered all over the place, have been stored in empty boxes over the months and then dumped next to the armchair, because you didn't know what else to do with them. On the one hand it looks much neater and on the other hand it doesn't collect dust like that. You lean against the front edge of the heavy desk while you watch Moon walking past the rows of shelves and examining some of the books with curious interest. "They've gathered a lot of documents about all the things in the basement up here. I think it was some sort of hobby of theirs? You know, collecting antiques and whatnot and doing research on its history. They also collected all kinds of articles about some pretty wild stories and stuff like that. Some of the books are quite obscure. Folklore, tales from different regions, some pseudo-occult works that somebody came up with at some point. I've just flipped through them here and there." In the hope that it might give you a clue about their whereabouts. But it didn't lead you anywhere.

"I looked at some of the articles, too. There's… some pretty heavy stuff in there about… ", you shake your head and grimace a little. No, you decide you'd rather not tell Moon about any details of that nasty stuff. "Doesn't matter what exactly was in it. Half of it was probably just nonsense anyway," stuff that some newspapers have hyped up to make headlines or came from shady newspaper publishing companies anyway. "Let's just say… I'm not too fond of scary stories and the like," you admit with a slight sigh. One more reason why you've rarely stayed here in the study. But maybe… some of the stories and articles weren't so far-fetched when you think about who you're talking to. In a way, you are experiencing firsthand an encounter with the supernatural. Except it doesn't feel like one of those horrible horror stories at all. "Haaaaaaah," you take a deep breath to regain your composure and give Moon a small smile, who is eyeing you thoughtfully. "Anyway, they traveled around a lot because of that and for their work too." At least, that's what you've always thought… Now you're not so certain anymore, considering that your childhood experience wasn't pure imagination, and your parents clearly kept you away from Moon on purpose. For whatever reason. If you think about it, maybe their so-called hobby was more related to their week-long work trips than you always thought. Moon is silently listening to you so far. Just lets you keep talking and somehow you're quite glad he's not asking you any questions. You shove your hands into the pockets of your pants and shift your weight nervously from one foot to the other. "… but… maybe I didn't know them as well as I thought I did," you mumble, shrugging your shoulders slightly. It's not as easy for you to talk about the two as you wish. Who knows what else your parents kept hidden from you. "Anyway… you're always welcome to look around in here if you like or if you find anything in here interesting," maybe you should take a closer look at the folders yourself. Perhaps then you might be able to find out what exactly your old friend is. Well… now there's only one room left… You start smiling again, take your hands out of your pockets and hold out your hand to Moon. "Come, I want to show you my room", you are so excited to finally show it to him!

Walking hand in hand, you gently pull Moon along with you, leading him to the other end of the hallway. "Behind the door on the right is the staircase to the attic. There's just a bunch of dusty boxes with old clothes, toys and books. Oh and some furniture that's been replaced. So everything that nobody needed anymore, but was considered too good to throw away. And I guess, a dozen or more spiders are living up there. So we'd better not disturb them," you explain much more cheerfully than before, winking briefly at your friend, for which you earn an amused smile from him before turning to the other door. "And this is my room," you say, opening the door right away. Gently releasing Moon's hand, you take a step into the room and flip on the light switch. You wave cheerfully for him to come in. Moon looks at you with a visibly amused expression on his face before he accepts your invitation and follows you. Does he recognize it? The room has changed a lot since you were a child. Well, no wonder. You're not eight anymore, after all. And you definitely wouldn't fit in your old bed anymore! Your new bed, on the other hand, has plenty of room for you to spread your legs and roll around in it to your heart's content. A thin blanket for the warm summer nights and lots of soft pillows with different patterned covers are lying inside, just waiting for you to snuggle into them soon to get a good night's sleep. Except for the big, snow-white and very round bird stuffed animal that sits between the pillows on your bed and that you fell in love with when you were a kid, the rest of your toys have gone either to the attic or to the children of acquaintances of your parents over the years, where they still served a good purpose.

On the left side of the bed stands a small night table. A book is lying on it with a bookmark sticking out. Your digital alarm clock is next to it and you try to suppress a rising yawn as you read the time on the display. Normally, you'd be in bed by now. But today is anything but normal. Moon takes a good look around. He walks through your room in his somewhat cowering posture, reminding you a bit of a shy animal getting accustomed to a new environment. Everything that seems remotely interesting to him he takes in his hands to give it a closer look before putting it back at the exact spot he found it. Now he holds one of the small plastic stars in his hand, which once hung on the ceiling of your room and are now scattered on the bookshelves as decoration. The last of the luminous stars on your ceiling fell down a few years ago, which you took as an opportunity to paint the ceiling yourself a dark sea green that contrasts nicely with the rest of the light-colored walls. "They fell off the ceiling over time," you tell him, standing next to him. He turns the star back and forth between his dark blue fingertips. Looks like he likes it. Well… his clothes have a pretty straightforward theme, judging by the pattern of his cap and pants, which are covered in yellow stars. "One year, nearly every two weeks, one came off. Perfect year for watching shooting stars," looking back it was darn funny and there wasn't a morning that went by that you didn't check to see if you could find another one of the plastic stars somewhere in your bed. "One time one fell on my head in the middle of the night." Moon looks up at you. He tilts his head to the side. A smile lingers in his eyes as he listens with interest. So you just keep talking. "I didn't noticed until I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth in front of the mirror," you babble and smile a bit sheepish at him. His gaze wanders from you to the star in his hand and back again. In the next moment, he rises to his full height and gently tucks the star in his hand behind your ear. Um… what's this about? You stare at him, dumbfounded. Not moving. His face is close to yours and you notice a mischievous twinkle in his mismatched eyes. "You should have made a wish," he whispers to you and you think you hear a suppressed laugh in his voice. "Huh?", wish for something? It takes you a second before you realize he's talking about the stars. Oh jeez! Now you're back to smiling. "I don't think that counts for plastic stars." It's a cute thought, though. "Putting that aside, it would be super tough to say your wish three times as fast as they fall to the floor," you object, looking at him with amusement. Your hand carefully searches for the small star he's tucked behind your ear. "And… I wouldn't know what to wish for anyway," you confess, smiling softly, and slowly pulling the star from behind your ear before placing it back in Moon's hand. Even the heavens might not be able to make some things come true, no matter how many times you would have entrusted your wishes to it. Not that you believe much in such things as higher powers or any gods. And… it's not that you are unhappy. Everything could be much worse, you always tell yourself. You have everything you need to get along on your own. However, from now on you aren't alone anymore. The thought is still so new to you that you can hardly believe it. Moon eyes you lost in thought for a sec. The red light around his pupils flickers softly as his eyes wander back to the plastic star you gave him back. He puts it on the shelf and continues his little tour through your room.

You show Moon the rest of the room, which is quite large and spacious, just like your parents' bedroom. You really never could complain about a lack of space. There is not much left from the time when this was your childhood bedroom. Aside from a few fairy tale books, most of your children's books have been replaced by a variety of non-fiction books about plants and gardening, as that subject has taken up more and more space in your progressing life. Your favorite novels have their own little corner on the two bottom wall shelves to the left of the bed. On the upmost shelf, on the other hand, is a collection of smaller, uniquely shaped and colored nightlights. You are especially fond of the small glass dome with the wooden base on which are several pink blossoming LED tulips. Currently they are turned off, but when you turn them on they emit an incredibly pleasant light in the dark. If you feel like setting a bit of a cozy atmosphere in the evening, you turn on your little collection while you watch a movie on your laptop or listen to some music on your bed in the partial darkness.

You push the two heavy curtains aside to show Moon the hidden bay window behind them, it's the counterpart to the one in the bedroom across the hall. An upholstered bench seat with a few cushions and a bedspread are tucked inside. "During daytime, you have a really nice view over the back garden from here. I'm sure you'll love it," you love sitting here to read or just daydream a bit while staring outside. "Can't see much of it now, I'm afraid," you admit sheepishly, kneeling slightly on the bench to take a look out the window. "But when the lights are off in the room, you get a good view of the stars, if it's not cloudy," there are some benefits to living so far out of town. You climb all the way up on the bench and gesture for him to join you. If you bend your legs a little and move close enough to the window panes, there is enough room for the two of you to sit. The wood creaks a little as he joins you, but it easily holds your combined weight. Like you, he pulls his long legs as close to his body as he can and tries to make himself as small as possible. The sight automatically brings a happy smile to your face and carefully you lean a bit to the side to reach for the curtains and draw them shut so that the rest of your room is no longer visible. It's much dimmer now that the light from the ceiling lamp is no longer reaching you both with its full brightness. You lean back again, placing one of the pillows in your back to sit more comfortably, and you take on an almost conspiratorial tone as you tell him: "Now it's our little secret hideout where no one will ever find us." At least, that's what you often told yourself as a kid. "Just the two of us," he confirms cheerfully, his eyes now shining much more intensely in the dim light and reflecting in the dark window panes while casting a soft red glow on you two.

"Mhm, hey, Moon?", you almost whisper. "Yeah?" you hear him respond just as quietly. You pull your knees closer to you, resting your arms around them and your head on them. "… I'm sorry I didn't get you out of there sooner," you murmur lowly. Your heart feels heavy while you speak and you lower your gaze a little. And although he hasn't shown any signs of being angry with you about it yet, you couldn't blame him if he was. No matter how hard you try, you can't even begin to imagine how traumatic it must have been to have your heart ripped out of your chest and then destroyed. What it must feel like to spend years locked up all alone in darkness… Before you can dwell any longer on it, a hand wraps around your shoulder. You notice how Moon changes his sitting position and pulls you over to him. Before you have a chance to stop him, you find yourself sitting in his lap, forehead resting against the blue fabric of his collar. He strokes you tenderly over the head. "Not your fault," Moon whispers softly. "But… I should have… ", you attempt to speak, feeling your voice tremble as you do so. "Shh. It's all right. No need to cry. Keep the bad thoughts away." Even though he says that, you're still so terribly sorry for what happened to him. And yet here he sits, comforting you now. Shouldn't it be the other way around? "Was it painful? Were you lonely?" you ask in a quiet voice. " … ", at first he doesn't answer and you're unsure if maybe you shouldn't have brought it up. "I… don't know. Can't remember. Only blurred fragments. Flashes. Not sure why… " He lifts one hand, puts it lightly on his face as if he was touching his forehead in an attempt to remember. Meanwhile, with the other hand, he holds you a little tighter.

He… doesn't remember? Is it just the time between your reunion or… does it also include your first encounter? Your right hand wanders to his chest, where it halts over the hidden chamber. You lean a little closer against him as you listen silently. It's the only thing you can do for him right now. "Before… I woke up, everything is… like static. Vague shapes. The first clear memory is you. Your back. You felt familiar. I knew you were our friend," his hand lowers again, gently stroking your cheek and you feel his face press gently against your head in a familiar gesture. You put your arms around him, holding him close as your head spins, like a merry-go-round. Moon is suffering from amnesia. He can't seem to remember your first time together. And yet, in a way, he recognized you. Didn't forget you completely. Could it be… that it has to do with the fact that his original heart was destroyed? Is that why he has trouble remembering? You unconsciously cling to him a little more. "I… I'll take care of you from now on," you promise him. You mean it. You're no longer a helpless little kid who can only watch and cry when his friend needs help. You won't let the past repeat itself. "I know," he answers as if he never even doubted it.

By now, you feel really exhausted. Sleepy and on the brink of falling asleep. A soft yawn comes out of your mouth. Your body feels heavy and the fact that Moon has started patting your head and humming softly in your dim hideout doesn't make it any easier to find the strength to get up again. "You should sleep. It's late," you hear him whisper close to your ear. You smile a little at that. "Mhmmmm. You're probably right… but… not here," you try to shake off the tiredness and slowly sit up. "As cozy as this is… ", and dang, it really is. "… I still have to prepare a place for you to sleep first." "No need. This will do." You raise an eyebrow and look up at him, puzzled. "You sure? I mean you could have the guest room. Or I could at least get you a mattress topper and put it next to my bed if you'd rather stay in my room. I'm sure that's more comfortable for sleeping than the bench," not that you haven't managed to fall asleep here yourself, but still. "Don't need sleep." You blink at him in surprise. Oh… okay? Guess it was like the no food thing then. "Huh. Alright, I guess? Um… do you need anything else for the night then? So you don't get bored?" "I'll just watch you sleep. Scare away naughty nightmares when they sneak up on you." Looks like Moon's gone back to making silly jokes. You smile a little at this, but it's already showing how tired you are. "Not creepy at all~ But if it makes you happy, fine by me," let him watch you sleep if he wants. He allows you to climb off his lap and you slide the curtains aside to hop off the bench. "But if you do get bored at some point, you're welcome to explore the house. Just… keep your hands off any switches that aren't for turning on or off the lights or faucets for now until I have explained to you how all the stuff works tomorrow. Okay?" "Understood. We'll behave," he replies with such a sly grin that you hope he'll truly follow your request. Well, chances are he's just trying to tease you a little and will actually be good. "Great. Then… I'll just go downstairs to turn off the lights, brush my teeth and change into something comfy," you announce and search for your pajama under the blanket in your bed. Ah there it is. "Just make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back," you call out to him as you're halfway out the door.

There, you've changed. All the doors are locked, the shutters are down, and you've filled your thermos with tea when you stopped by the kitchen to turn off the lights. By now you realize how the exhaustion of the day sinks into your bones. You click the light switch and the hallway light goes off as you enter your room and freeze in the middle of the doorway, only to let out a rather loud snort shortly after. Moon sits half sunken in the large beanbag chair that stands next to the bay window. He's looking rather grumpy, and the way his long limbs stick out at odd angles beyond the ends of the beanbag doesn't look comfortable at all. You giggle softly and receive an offended look from him before he stretches his arms out to you as if asking for help. "We're sinking! It's eating us!" he says in such an exaggerated manner that it reminds you of a performance from one of those trash movies Mitch sometimes brings over to watch with you. "Coming~" you reply with a grin, but before you do you leisurely set your thermos down on the nightstand and flick on the small lamp next to it before walking around the bed towards him. "Hurry! Help us! Before we get all gobbled up!" You look at him with amusement. What an actor. He probably wouldn't have any trouble freeing himself in the first place. "It's fine. See? I'm already here," smiling, you grab his hands that are reaching out to you and pull him out of the oh-so-dangerous death trap without really having to put much effort into it. "Looks like you're still in one piece," you comment with a smile as he stands in front of you. "Just barely," Moon replies with a wide grin, and you give him a gentle smack on the chest. Which he immediately uses as an opportunity to throw himself backwards and right into the so-called death trap. He is kicking his arms as if in agony. "Oh no! You've pushed us! We're trapped again and dying!" He makes a noise as if it were his last breath and shortly thereafter remains motionless. You already have tears in your eyes from laughing. If you hadn't left your cell phone in the living room downstairs, you would have been recording a video right now. "Okay, okay. Enough dying for tonight," you grab his limply lying hand on the floor and watch as one of his eyes, which had darkened earlier, comes back to life with a red flicker and stares at you, mockingly, as you hear him chuckle softly at his own joke. A yawn is mixed in between your scattered chuckles once again, and you rub your eyes with your free hand a little. His fingers wrap around the hand that's holding him, and this time Moon is up before you could even make the attempt to pull him to his feet. "Time for bed," he murmurs and you merely nod in agreement. Sounds like a great idea to you.

You let Moon lead you to your bed while he's holding your hand. Oh, darn, you totally forgot… "I have to turn off…," the light, is what you want to say. But Moon cuts you off midsentence. "Lie down. I'll take care of it," gently he pushes you onto the mattress and you don't protest any further. You hear him scurry over to the door and in the next moment the big ceiling lamp goes dark. Tired, you crawl under the covers as you watch him come back to your bed and sit down on the floor to your left. You feel around with one hand for the switch on the bedside lamp and flip it off before rolling over to the other bedside where he is waiting. The room is completely dark now. Well… almost. Moon's red eyes glow softly in the dark. However, it's not the only thing that glows. The stars on his clothes also stick out against their dark background. He really is full of surprises, isn't he? The familiar sight of the glowing stars brings a small smile to your face. From under the covers, you reach out your hand and holding it out to him. Once again, his cool fingers wrap around yours. It is reassuring to feel his presence. To know that he is right next to you. "Good night, Moon. See you tomorrow," you mumble sleepy. A faint "Nighty-night" is all you hear before you are already fast asleep.

[oshawottarchive]

Ninjago Google translated

== Way of the Ninja (cute ninja) ==

Tw, guns, death, cigarette

(The semester begins with a visit to Ignacia, who works at Kaichenia Four Hands.)

What: (Make a sword.) To make a perfect weapon, it must be strong and warm. Wow... it's great! (It hurts when the sword is broken).

Nia: (laughs) Hey, hurry up. I'm sorry, Dad.

Purchase: I know. No matter what your motivation, experience doesn’t come overnight. It may work for Nia, but I am more creative than my father.

Wu: (entering the shop) Hmm... your car is fast and heavy. It helps you feel better. Hidden insects. All samurai weapons but no ninjas?

What is a ninja? Hey, you don't see ninjas in these parts, old man, the name of the shop isn't Crowlo's, it's Cake Cool. Buy something or sell your curse elsewhere.

Wu: Yeah! That’s a terrible thing. I think I see something different here. (Kai goes to change Wu's clothes.)

Kay: I mean if you see anything strange... (if it works).

News: What is it?

Ki: Just forget it.

(A dark cloud appears above Ignite, signaling the arrival of the Skulkins. When they arrive, three Skulkin Police appear from a skeleton car.)

Nickel: Ah! I'm the first! Please. I have to go!

Kruncha: He's dead! Try fighting King Smokekai! (Voice change, back to Smokey.

Smokekai: I'm sorry, friend. Remember what we need and get a card. attack!

(All cars in Scotland fill up quickly, Igniti guarantees a car will arrive).

Smokey: You're tired!

(People turn and run, soldiers call).

The: (looking at the store). What a bye

Kay: (does something) I don't know. Stop here

(Kai rallies the Skulkin army, and one of them strikes Kai and decapitates him.)

You: Ah! Stop! (He kicks Scullen in the head. As the two skeletons celebrate their victory, Nia wakes up and sees them.)

Ki: (surprised by Nia's attack) Like I told you to stop!

Me: So what is it? Do you want everything?

(As the brothers fight the skeleton army, Kurosa and Nickel casually enter the restaurant and start looking around.)

Kroncha: You're not stubborn! (He played Nickel in a samurai helmet.)

Nick: Ah! Don’t be too harsh! (He kills Kruncha in retaliation. When the two Scottish managers fight, he turns the sign outside the shop and finds the card Somoki is looking for.)

Crunch and Nickel: (disgusted) Card!

(Outside, Kai finishes killing the last of his Skulkin warriors as Sumokai approaches him. Kai pulls out his gun and reveals that Sumokai also has four arms.)

You: (I know it’s him.) Oh.

(Koagu grabbed his gun and drew it.

Wu: (angrily) Ninja! (He attacks Smokey again.)

Yang Kai: Look Wu! Your sponge has become dusty.

Wu: Smokekai, don't let anything happen.

(Samakai saw Kai holding a bucket of water on the ground, lifted one knee and slammed the bucket onto Kai).

Ki: (looking at the tank) Oh...!

Wu: Thank you very much! (He used Spongjutsu again to save Kai.)

Smokekai: (returns to the car with the map and skull, instead of dispatching Wu first) Lord Garmadon said take the girl!

Wu: (inaudible) Lord Garmadon?

(Kruncha laughs and grabs Nia by the handle of the car.)

Ki: no! (A bone is equal to a liver.)

Kay: (sadly) got the word…

Wu: I already said. (She hits him over the head with a bamboo stick.) Don't go.

Amy: (angry) Come on! you have to do something! You can use... Twist or -.

Wu: Spanish: Uncle!

Kai: But you didn't do anything! Bring my sister!

W: No one can go anywhere. King Smokai is undefeated. Mr. Mani also feared that if he had taken Gamadon's advice seriously, he would have been in dire straits.

Kai: Are you Gambi-san? World of humans? What's important to them? Why did they arrest my brother?

Wu: What? What about Ninjago? You can take it Combine all your strength. When he died, he promised to protect his two children, but the darkness betrayed his parents: an old man who was defeated in the war and thrown into the desert. The brothers hid their weapons, but they did not want the police to see them, so they sent a guard. And there are maps where his followers can hide in fear of death. (Last photo) The righteous is his father. His older brother is Lord Grimdon. I have to find him before he uses the gun.

Amy: Are you young? So do you have everything in the recipe?

Wu: Absolutely not. I am here for something important. You are the only one. My brother couldn't come, so he arranged for a cigarette. Collect all 4 weapons. I can't stop you But there is fire within you. I will show you how to use it. Please use it. Be a holy teacher.

AMY: Well, I'm glad you said that, but I have to save my brother! I'm not going to fight your brother. (Mr. Conan overwhelms Kai, who tries to leave.)

Wu: And it's not good to laugh too much. You're not ready to get your finger on it. If you want your sister back, you must control your inner fire. You can meet Lord Gamadon for the first time after meeting SpongeBob.

Tui Pui: Yes. So when do we start?

(The next day, Kayuk climbs to the impossible height of Spinjitsu Monastery).

Q: (pause) How long have you been training? See a map above?

Wu: (offers) Wait. (goes to school) I'm done, I'm done. immediately

* (surprised) Daddy? Do you want to learn how to fight peacefully?

D: No harm. To become a true ninja, you must know the unknown.

* But there is nothing here

(Clicking the dragon icon reveals a secret button that activates all the trainers in the monastery).

* (surprised) Oh! Can you teach me how (go to campus)?

Wu: (somewhat confused) Oh.

(K shoots the dragon and it falls to the ground).

Answer: We will end the lesson before tea. Then realize that you are ready. (He drank the whole bottle.) Not today. I'll try again tomorrow.

Question: (angry) Really? But it hasn't started yet.

Wu: (closes the barn door) Wait.

(Kai trains the following week, but misses Wu several times, contrary to Wu's wishes).

Wu: They failed. Haha, no need! I won! And... it won't happen.

(Kai decides to look for fitness equipment one day to find Wu. He pours the tea into another cup and goes up the stairs, Kai can't find it.)

Kei: (Takes a bowl of sugar and threatens Xiao Wu) Is the sugar ready?

(Wu enters the monastery and admires Kai's success.)

Kai: Okay, do you want to learn how to play?

Wu: Done. Final exam tomorrow. (laughs) My advice is to sleep more.

(That night, while Wu is sleeping and Kai is getting ready to sleep, the monastery is attacked by three alien ninjas).

SH: (Thoughtfully) My advice is to sleep.

* (looks at herself) Oh! (The first ninja slowly enters the door.) Here he comes. (A ninja comes around the corner with a shuriken.) Look. (Who has the third ninja?)

(3 ninjas prepare to attack).

* (annoyed) Oh.

[kinkmom]

Concealed identity incest is definitely my fave, I love when they have the realization while they're orgasming

That's a very good time to have the realization. The other side, realizing it's your brother just as he's nutting in you, is also very good. >:3c

Anon number two, you really had to put it in the worst possible way but ok. :'I I've got the noncon variety here:

One is Dirk, drugged so out of his mind he doesn't remember where he was and what he was doing before finding himself tied to a bed in spread eagle and tightly blindfolded. Not an ideal position in any way, but he's a bit too out of it to get properly scared. At least not yet. Someone is in the room with him, not speaking a word, but while blinded his senses are way heightened, so when the bed dips under the other person's weight he's ready to gather as much identifying info as he can. Definitely a man, his body feels lean but heavy, so he's likely tall. Big and warm hands, timid yet curious touch. He has a stubble and probably has bangs. His scent is familiar somehow, Dirk is sure he knows this person, but from where...? Trying to get him to talk isn't working, but the little sighs of pleasure he lets out when touching him are better than nothing. And when the man grabs Dirk's jaw and kisses him, a tongue piercing clinks against his teeth. All the subtle little clues come together and Dirk gets the worst, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Dave." he states, rather than asks and the man on top of him freezes.

Depending on whichever way you want to play it, Dave could lose his cool and blurt out something, or keep Dirk guessing if the freezing was just confusion about being called by someone else's name while committing a serious crime. The rest of the scenario has Dirk much more vocal and distressed, trying to appeal to his brother's empathy. :3

...It would definitely be pretty funny if it wasn't Dave but some random dude who just happened to use the same cologne, have the same smoking habits and have somewhat the same features. Like, "...Your home life must be pretty fucked up if you thought I was your brother, I'm so sorry dude. I actually don't want to do this anymore, take care. :("

The other scenario I've been turning around in my head like a microwave plate is the Dirkette out on a riverside trail in the evening, I drew couple of pictures of it a while back. The Striders are out somewhere remote in a nice cottage to spend the summer and Dirkette likes to take walks by herself, the area is safe and there aren't many other people around. Dave obviously knows where she goes and when, so it's easy for him to cook up a plan to fulfill his assault fantasies. He can easily get ahead of his sister by car and enter the trail at some other point and lie in wait, properly disguised. And when he does show himself Dirkette knows better than to stand around when a guy in all black and his face concealed appears on a remote nature trail. Despite Dirkette being fit, Dave's got longer legs and he eventually catches her, easily having his way with her and escaping the scene just as fast. He drives his car a bit further away, changes his clothes and freshens up the best he can. Just in time to recieve a call from badly shaken Dirkette to come pick her up.

Dave plays easily the worried big brother, he's still jittery from what he's done, but like this it seems like protective fury. She's an awful sight, white dress muddy and bruises forming on her arms, hair messy and expression distraught, but relieved to see her brother. Seeing his sister cry like this tears him in two opposite directions at the same time, but he's more than ready to comfort her, have her in his arms, take her home and care for her. She doesn't resist when Dave tells her to take a shower (get all that pesky DNA evidence off while Dave hides his clothes to get disposed of later). He offers to call the police, but Dirkette has already decided that it wouldn't do anything, who would believe a guy in all black and wearing a balaclava suddenly appears out of nowhere and rapes her? She'd rather go to sleep now, worry about all of it later... Dave gets her a plan b and anything she wants.

A day or two later Dirkette needs something from Dave's room, opens his closet and a bag falls on her. Out flops something black and a pair of sunglasses in a style Dave doesn't use. She picks up the black thing and holds it out in front of her. It's a balaclava. Her blood might as well be battery acid as she puts the two and two together, the shades fit right on the face of her attacker and there's other clothes in the bag and...

"...I was going to throw that out today." Dave says, standing by the door uncharacteristically serious. He pushes the door closed behind himself and turns the lock, never taking his eyes off his sister. Now that she knows, might as well take another round or two. Dirkette drops all she's holding and can only take steps back deeper into the room, panic clouding her mind. She tries to bolt and jump across the bed, but that only leads to Dave pinning her down right where he wants her. Dave, in his usual style, starts monologuing, apologizing, pleading her to play along because he doesn't want to hurt her, telling how much easier it would be if she just let this happen, how much he loves her and how it breaks his heart to eventually lose her to someone else, how he could take care of everything for her if she let him, how good he can be, how desperate he's to have her and how sorry he's for fucking everything up just for this.

It could go either way, Dave just raping his sister there again while she either lies motionless or tries to scream and scratch him the best she can, or Dirkette convincing him to give her time to come to him (kind of) willingly and be incredibly gentle with her. The last option also allows for some lovely lingerie or something sheer to please her brother. :3

[aspenmissing]

𝙰 𝚅𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚂𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 (𝙿𝚝 𝟷)

A girl is looking outside through the glass door and a woman stands outside, being interviewed.

"Um, my daughter and I were in out beds" She says "Mike was downstairs decorating the tree. I heard a thump on the rood and then I heard Mike scream. And now I'm talking to the FBI"

"And you didn't see any of it?" Y/N asks, dressed in formal wear.

"No, he was...he was gone"

"The doors were locked? There was no forced entry?"

"That's right"

"Does anybody else have a key?" Y/N asks.

"My parents"

"Where do they live?"

"Florida" Sam and Dean, in suits, walk out of the house.

"Thanks for letting us have a look around, Mrs. Walsh" Dean says.

"I think, we, uh, got just about everything we need" Sam says. He looks to Y/N "We're all set.

"We'll be in touch" she says. Mrs. Walsh nods and the siblings walk down the steps.

"Agents...." She calls. The three turn around.

"The police said my husband might have been kidnapped"

"Could be" Dean says.

"Then why haven't the kidnappers called? O-or - or demanded a ransom? It's three days till Christmas. What am I supposed to tell our daughter?" The three looks at each other.

"We're very sorry" Sam, Y/N and Dean walk away and Mrs. Walsh turns to go inside.

"Find anything?" Y/N asks. Sam sighs.

"Stocking, mistletoe...this" Sam gives Y/N something out of his pocket.

"A tooth? Where was this?" Y/N asks, examining the tooth.

"In the chimney" Dean says.

"Chimney? No way a man fits up a chimney. It's too narrow"

"No way he fits up in one piece"

"Alright, so, if dad went up the chimney-"

"We need to find out what dragged him up there"

==

Inside a motel, pictures of demons are pinned up on the wall. Sam sat at the table on his laptop when the door opens and the twins walk inside, Dean carrying a brown paper bag.

"So, was I right? Is it the serial-killing chimney sweep?" Dean says.

"Yep. It's, uh, it's actually Dick Van Dyke" Sam says.

"Who?"

"Mary Poppins"?"

"Who's that?"

"Oh, come on- never mind" Sam waves his hand.

"Well, it turns out that Walsh is the second guy in town grabbed out of his house this month" Y/N says.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah"

"The other guy gets dragged up the chimney, too?"

"Don't know. Witnesses said they heard a thump on the roof" Y/N says and the three shrug

"So, what the hell do you think we're dealing with" Dean asks.

"Actually, I have an idea"

"Yeah?" Y/N asks.

"Uh, it's gonna sound crazy"

"What could you possibly say that sounds crazy to us"

"Um...evil Santa" Sam says, smiling. Y/N snorts. Dean pauses and then nods.

"Yeah, that's crazy"

" Yeah... I mean, I'm just saying that there's some version of the anti-Claus in every culture" Sam shows Dean and Y/N some evil Santa pictures "You got Belsnickel, Krampus, Black Peter" Dean takes the pictures from Sam “Whatever you want to call it, there's all sorts of lore"

"Saying what?" Y/N asks.

"Saying...back in the day, Santa's brother went rogue and now he shows up around Christmas time, but instead of bringing presents, he punishes the wicked"

"By hauling their ass up chimneys?"

"For starters, yeah"

"So, this is your theory, huh? Santa's shady brother?"

"Well, ah- I'm just saying, that's what the lore says"

"Santa doesn't have a brother. There is no Santa"

"Yeah, I know. You're the one who told me that in the first place, remember" Sam says looking at Dean, who looks down, maybe feeling a little guilty. Sam turns back to his computer and sighs "Yeah, you know what, I could be wrong. I ... " Sam sighs again, shutting his laptop "gotta be wrong"

"Maybe, maybe not" Y/N says.

"What?"

"We did a little digging" Y/N says, gesturing to Dean "Turns out both victims visited the same place before they got snatched"

"Where?"

==

Christmas music plays, children are playing, and people wearing costumes are walking around.

"It does kind of lend credence to the theory, don't it?" Dean says.

"Yeah, but anti-Claus? Couldn't be"

"It's a Christmas miracle"

"Hey, speaking of, we should have one this year" Y/N says.

"Have on what?" Sam asks.

"A Christmas" Sam scoffs.

"No, thanks"

"No, we'll get a tree, a little Boston market, just like when we were little"

"I actually like the idea of that" Dean says.

"Guys, those weren't exactly Hallmark memories for me, you know"

"What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases"

"Whose childhood are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on, Sam" Y/N says.

"No! Just...no" Dean and Y/N look at him surprised.

"All right, Grinch" Dean mutters. The two walk away, while Sam stands still. Suddenly he notices a reindeer statue staring at him. Sam looks uncomfortable.

==Flashback: Christmas Eve, 1991==

Reindeers pull Santa's sleigh across the sky on the TV, which is playing ‘A Year Without Santa Claus’. An 8-year-old Sam turns away from the TV and back to the couch, where he starts to wrap two things with newspaper.

"What is that?" A 12-year-old Y/N asks, kneeling beside him.

"Yeah, right. Where'd you get the money? Steal it?" A 12-year-old Dean asks, who's standing by the window. Y/N glares at him.

"No. Uncle Bobby gave it to me to give to him. Said it was really special"

"What is it?" Y/N asks.

"A pony" Sam says sarcastically. Y/N smiles whereas Dean scoffs.

"Very funny"

“What about the other one?" Y/N asks.

"I made that for him myself"

"I bet he'll love it" Sam continues to wrap the presents. Dean then comes over and sits on the couch next to them and picks up a magazine.

"Dad's gonna be here, right?" Sam says, looking up at Y/N.

"He'll be here" she says.

"It's Christmas"

"He knows and he'll be here. Promise"

"Where is he anyway?"

"On business" Dean says.

"What kind of business?"

"You know that. He sells stuff"

"What kind of stuff?"

"Stuff"

"Nobody ever tells me anything" Dean rolls his eyes.

"Then quit asking" Y/N glares at Dean, but he shrugs.

"We wish we could tell you, Sam, but Dad won't let us" Y/N says softly. “So, please stop asking. Okay?" Sam nods. Dean leaves the two and walks to the bed. She shoves garbage and food wrappers off of it and opens the magazine.

"Is Dad a spy?"

"Mm-hmm. He's James Bond"

"Why do we move around so much?"

"'Cause everywhere we go, they get sick of your face" Dean says.

"I'm old enough, guys. You can tell me the truth"

"You don't want to know the truth. Believe me" Y/N says.

"Is that why we never talk about...Mom?" Sam says cautiously. Y/N tenses, side glancing at Dean who tosses the magazine away angrily and stands up.

"Shut up! Don't you ever talk about Mom. Ever!"

"He was just asking, Dean!" Y/N says, standing up and facing her twin brother. Dean begins to head for the door, opening it.

"Wait, where are you going?" Sam asks.

"Out"

"You better stay out there till you calm down!" Y/N says before Dean shuts the door behind him.

"Did I do something wrong?" Sam says, looking up at Y/N.

"No, just, Mom's a hard subject to talk about around Dean. Don't worry though"

"Are you gonna leave if I talk about...Mom?" Sam asks. Y/N kneels down beside him, smiling softly.

"No, I'm never gonna leave you" she says, ruffling his hair. “Ask me whatever you like about Mom.”

==Flashback End==

Sam is still lost in memories as Dean and Y/N walk beside him.

"You'd think with the 10 bucks it costs to get into this place, Santa could scrounge up a little snow" Dean says.

"What?" Sam asks, awakening from his daydreaming.

"Nothing"

"What are we looking for, again?" Y/N asks.

"Um..." Sam looks around "lore says that the anti-Claus will walk with a limp and smell like sweets"

"Great. So, we're looking for a pimp Santa" Dean says "Why the sweets?"

"Think about it, Dean. If you smell like candy, the kids will come closer, you know?"

"That's creepy" Y/N says. Sam chuckles "How does this thing know who's been naughty and who's been nice?"

"I don't know" A man wearing a Santa costume sits outside a small barn. A woman and a boy walk up to him.

"So, Ronny, come sit on Santa's knee" The boy sits "Ah, there you go. You been a good boy this year?"

"Yeah"

"Good. Santa's got a special gift for you" He cackles creepily. Dean looks at Santa and the boy speculatively.

"Maybe we do" Ronny's mother takes his arm and leads him away from the Santa.

"Come on, honey, let's go" A woman in an elf costume walks up to Sam, Dean, and Y/N.

"Welcome to Santa's court. Can I escort your child to Santa?"

"Uh..."

"No. No. Uh, but actually, our brother here" Dean smacks Sam on the shoulder "...it's been a lifelong dream of his" The elf looks at Sam.

"Uh, sorry. No kids over...12"

"No, he's just kidding. We only came here to watch" Y/N facepalms. The woman looks at Dean, who shakes his head.

"Eww" she says.

"No, he didn't mean like that" Y/N says "You see, my brother here is just really nervous around beautiful women like yourself" The elf looks away, blushing.

"Oh, um, thank you"

"And what he meant by watching is that he's watching the Santa because my husband, uh, back home is looking after our daughter" Y/N lies. "And she dreams of meeting Santa so my brother wants to surprise her and dress up as him and he wants to know how to be the perfect Santa"

"Aww, you’re such a good uncle" The elf says, looking at Sam who smiles "Well, I'm sorry for the misunderstanding, please enjoy the rest of your day" The woman walks away.

"You’re welcome, you idiots" Dean laughs.

"Dude, you were like shitting yourself" Dean then suddenly turns serious.

"Check it out" The three watch the Santa leave his chair. Santa walks with a bad limp "Are you seeing this?"

"A lot of people walk with limps, right?" The Santa walks past the three.

"Tell me you didn't just smell that" Y/N says "That was candy, guys"

"That was Ripple. I think. Had to be" Sam says as he looks at Santa again.

"Maybe. We're willing to take that chance?"

==

Inside the Impala, the three are spying on a simple house that is decorated with Christmas lights.

"What time is it?" Dean asks.

"Same as the last time you asked" Y/N says from the passenger seat.

"Here" Sam hands Dean a thermos "Caffeinate" Dean takes the thermos from Sam and tries to pour coffee into the cup, but the thermos in empty.

"Wonderful" Dean throws it into the back seat beside Sam "Hey, Sam"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you the boy that hates Christmas?"

"Dean..."

"I mean, I admit it. You know, we have a few bumpy holidays when we were kids"

"Bumpy"?"

"That was then. We'll do it right this year" Y/N says.

"Look, guys. If you want to have Christmas, knock yourselves out. Just don't involve me" Dean and Y/N share a look. They then return to watch the house. Santa, still in his red cap, but in a green tank top, looks outside, then closes his curtains.

"What's up with Saint Nicotine?" Y/N asks.

"Oh, my God!" A woman's voice shouts. The three jump out of the car and run to the house with their guns drawn. Y/N looks inside the window of the front door.

"Huh" Sam says.

"What?" Dean asks.

"Nothing. It's just that, uh... well, you know, Mr. Gung Ho Christmas might have to blow away Santa" Y/N opens the door. Santa is sitting on the couch, holding a giant bong and a bottle of whiskey. Santa stands up and the three quickly hide their guns.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean looks around and realizes Santa's only watching TV. Dean looks at Sam and Y/N, who shrug. Dean starts to sing-badly.

"S-silent night...Holy..." Dean looks at Sam and Y/N, who follow him, shrugging, and both smiling.

".... night" Santa chuckles and sits down to enjoy the show "All is well..."

"...all is dry" Santa also sings along.

"Bright..."

"Round and round..." They try to sing although they don't remember the lyrics.

"The table..." Sam puts a hand on Dean's shoulder to pull him away, followed by Y/N.

==

The three are inside of a large house in the living room, interviewing a woman, who has a bruise on her eye.

"So, that's how your son described the attack? "Santa took daddy up the chimney"?"

"That's what he says, yes"

"And where were you?" Y/N asks.

"I was asleep and all of a sudden" She sniffs "...I was being dragged out of bed, screaming"

"Did you see the attacker?" The woman shakes her head.

"It was dark, and he hit me. He knocked me out" Dean nods.

"I'm sorry. I know this is hard"

“Yeah...um, Mrs. Caldwell, where, where did you get that wreath above the fireplace?" Dean and Y/N look around at the wreath, and blink. They look at each other puzzled.

"Excuse me?" Dean and Y/N look at Sam, waiting for an answer. Sam shrugs, smiling, feeling embarrassed.

"Just curious, you know" Later, the three exit the house and walk back to the Impala.

"Wreaths, huh? Sure, you didn't want to ask her about her shoes? I saw some nice handbags in the foyer" Dean says.

"We've seen that wreath before, Dean"

"Where?" Y/N asks.

"The Walshes', yesterday"

"We know. We were just testing you" Dean says. Sam scoffs. They then drive away in the Impala.

==

Back at the motel room, Sam is on the phone.

"Yeah, all right. Well, keep looking, would you? Thanks, Bobby" He hangs up " Well... we're not dealing with the anti-Claus"

"What did Bobby say?"

"Uh, that we're morons"

"Sounds like Bobby" Y/N says.

"He also said that it was probably meadowsweet in those wreaths" Sam says, looking at his laptop.

"Wow! Amazing. What the hell is meadowsweet?" Dean asks.

"It's pretty rare and it's probably the most powerful plant in pagan lore"

"Pagan lore?" Dean asks.

"Yeah. See, they used meadowsweet for human sacrifice. It was kind of like a... Chum for their gods. Gods were drawn to it and they'd stop by and snack on whatever was the nearest human"

"Why would somebody be using that for Christmas wreaths?" Y/N asks.

"It's not as crazy as it sounds, Guys. I mean, pretty much every Christmas tradition is Pagan.

"No, Jesus's birthday was probably in the fall. It was actually the winter solstice festival that was co-opted by the Church and renamed "Christmas". But I mean, the Yule log, the tree, even Santa's red suit - that's all remnants of pagan worship" Dean looks at Y/N in surprise in shock.

"How do you know that?" Dean asks.

"Where do you think Sam got it from." She asks. Dean looks between Sam and Y/N.

"What are you gonna tell me next? Easter bunny's Jewish?" The two don't reply.

"So, you think we're gonna dealing with a pagan God?" Y/N asks.

"Yeah, probably Hold Nickar, God of the winter solstice"

"And all these Martha Stewart wanna be, buying these fancy wreaths..."

"Yeah, it's pretty much like putting a neon sign on your front door saying "Come kill us"

"Great" Sam reads an article on the laptop.

"Huh...When you sacrifice to Hold Nicktar, guess what he gives you in return"

"Lap dances, hopefully" Dean jokes.

"Mild weather" Y/N looks out the window.

"Like no snow in the middle of December in the middle of Michigan" Y/N says.

"For instance,"

"Do we know how to kill it yet?" Y/N asks.

"No, Bobby's working on that right now. We got to figure out where they're selling those wreaths"

"You think they're selling them on purpose?" Dean asks "Feeding the victims to this thing?" Sam exhales.

"Let's find out"

[lunarsun12]

Curtain call

Today is the day, where the show is live. Taeyong and Kun are praying that it goes all smoothly however things never goes well.

After the crazy aftermath of the burning stage crying child and one trip to the police station due to illegal fireworks show

As well one trip to the hospital as Taeyong got knocked down by from Winwin as he was trying to escape for his life! As a crying mingi as he missed his cue to go due to an unfortunate accident!

Will Hongjoong invest in Nctzen corporation?

DISCLAIMER

This does not represent the idols real persona and is exaggerated for entertainment purpose. They are non idols in this storyline

Today 9:00am

Back at the NCT Family chat

Jaehyun😎: I’m sorry I didn’t know that bad fish can make me feel sick

Flashback to yesterday

Yuta and Jaehyun private chat

17:00

Yuta🐙: Hello, wanna get food with me! I heard the best review there!

Jaehyun😎: No I don’t eat sushi! It not good before a play!

Yuta🐙: How about I make some food! Since Mark left me to visit his lame family

Jaehyun😎: Didn’t you set the kitchen on fire all the time

Yuta🐙: Just come pleasseee! I just want to spend some time with you!

Jaehyun😎: If I say yes will you leave me alone

Yuta🐙: Yes thank you!

End of flashback

Back at the NCT Family chat

Jaehyun😎: So that what happened-

Doyoung🐰: Get Yuta online I need to talk to him

Yuta🐙: Yes my dearest Eomma

Doyoung🐰: One， Yuta how many times did I tell you stay away from the kitchen

Doyoung🐰: Second, Yuta why did you give your brother food poisoning?

Yuta🐙: I didn’t know the fish went expired. You should have labelled it clearly

Taeil👴: Sorry about that, I was busy calming Jungwoo down that day. He went and got his hands on some energy drinks and sweets

Doyoung🐰: Let me guess it was Johnny again…who bought all these stuff

Johnny🕺: Gotta get kid what he want

Doyoung🐰: Taeyong can we please get rid of Johnny. Taeil can stay since he is actually helpful

Taeyong🌱: Remember Johnny situation

Doyoung🐰: Ahhhh so annoying why does Johnny has cross that guy

Johnny🕺: When you gotta tango you do the tango

Yuta🐙: I feel so bad giving Jaehyun food poisoning. I will take the role as Juliet. As well I got it all memorised!!

Doyoung🐰: You really indeed a life saver. Fine play Juliet…Juliet will have to be parentless!

Johnny🕺: How can anyone remember all of the scripts. It like somone prepared for it to happen

Taeyong🌱: Johnny stop asking questions and sort Jungwoo out again. He is playing with your pole again

The next day

After the show has ended

Back at the NCT + Ateez parents chat

21:00

Doyoung🐰: Okay what was that?

Jaemin🌸: Taeyong is still unconscious from that fight. You guys kids are so aggressive

Ten🐱: Again he is blind to his kids. It was your sunflower child who started it after he found out Yuta got the role

Jaemin🌸: Well you should have called right away

Kun🐻: This is worst then last year. The kids went completely offscripts. The audience get free family drama

Doyoung🐰: We are definitely getting banned from ever performing again

Kun🐻: We know it is bad when Hendery has to do his magic show

Jeno🐶: I never knew Yuta was plotting to steal Jaehyun his Juliet role. He didn’t even get to kiss-

Jaemin🌸: Why are you encouraging this behaviour. It good he didn’t kiss or we Yumark break part 3

Doyoung🐰: I didn’t expect Hyuckie to actually attack Yuta with sword. Saying Romeo is mine

Ten🐱: As well the fireworks at the end. Which 100% I know it was YangYang

Ten🐱: We have to evacuate the building as YangYang forget fireworks was not supposed to be used indoors

Jeno🐶: Why do I see Chenle trying to push Jisung into the flames?

Jaemin🌸: You must be imagining things

Hongjong🎩: I would like to apologise of how my kid behaved. They thought it will be funny idea to put cockroaches in mingi wig

Hongjong🎩: Also I feel you all on the burning down the place stuff

Hongjong🎩: We have Yunho who loves to play with fireworks and Yeosang who burns down the kitchen

Taeyong🌱: DID WE LOSE THE INVESTMENT

Doyoung🐰: I don’t know

Hongjong🎩: Oh the investment was never off. I just threatened so you accepts mingi as I know the chances are low

Doyoung🐰: Oh wow Taeyong is hugging onto Nana very tightly. Also Jeno stop growling

[ineffably-grey]

I wrote a short fic for a tv series i like, but i was sad so it’s depressing. so suicide attempted and another suicide is referenced. It’s like implied hurt/comfort

-Austin-

Mac’s pov

When I was thirteen, I tried to kill myself. While I was in the hospital, I met this guy who was there for the same reason. We became friends, I loved hockey, he couldn’t care less, He loved books, I couldn’t care less. Neither of us felt like being alive but, we both wanted the other live. So, we struck a deal. I wouldn’t hurt myself if he didn’t and vice versa.

When I moved to the UK, the hardest part was saying bye to him, but he moved shortly after to Tulsa, Oklahoma, in the states, to stay with his brother. We called and texted and kept up our deal.

Until yesterday.

I was at practice with the hammers, Hammarstrom wasn’t happy with me, my teammates weren’t listening, and I was off. I didn’t know what but I knew something was wrong. I tried to shake it off and just play but the feeling lingered.

Hammarstrom called for a break and my teammates were all talking and laughing, but not with me. I moved a bit away and tried to go over the plays. I checked my phone and saw a missed call from him. I resigned to call him back later when I saw I had a voicemail. Of course, just as I went to listen to it, Hammarstrom noticed just in time to remind of the phone policy.

“If you need to make a call so important you make it during practice, you do not hide it from your teammates. Speakerphone or no phone.”

Knowing my friend, Austin, it was either nonsensical and half in Polish or life-threatening, so I took my chances, I’d rather it be nothing and I make sure he’s okay, than it be something and I assumed. So I pressed play, with all my teammates listening in.

“Hey, Mac…um..it’s me.. But you knew that…I’m just calling to say I’m sorry, I know we said together or not at all but, I can’t do it anymore. I’m sorry I won’t be there when you become a hot-shot hockey star but, um…I don’t know if you heard but, Dallas, my brother, he died last week, he was uh, he was shot, by the police, they said they thought he was armed and they shot him but, anyway I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t keep my end of the deal, but you–you, Mac, you better keep yours. I have no one left, my mom left, my dad’s in jail, my brother died, I have no one but you and you’re halfway across the world. Just remember, how amazing your family is, how much you love hockey, and please, don’t forget me. I love you and I’m sorry. Goodbye, Mac”

I felt my world crashing down around me, everything felt fuzzy and far away, I knew my teammates and my dad and even Hammerstrom were moving and running and trying to talk to me, but none of it registered. The world slowed down for what felt like hours. I threw my helmet across the rink, I broke my hockey stick, I think I hit one of my teammates, I don’t know. All I remember is this crushing weight on my chest and this fog of despair, regret, and anger over my mind. I stormed out. I think someone followed me. I ran the entire way home. I got up to my room just to see the pictures of me and him and I couldn’t take it I tore the pictures down, I saw my bookcase, they were all either about hockey or he recommended them. I hit it as hard as I could till the top shelf broke, spilling books, causing this domino effect until my room was littered with books and trinkets. All my clothes reminded me of him, it was almost as if my sheets smelled of him, everything had a trace of him and a tiny memory, I wouldn’t be able to make any more of. I was lying on the floor surrounded by the contents of my room, staring at the ceiling. I hadn’t thought this way in a while, but lying there staring at the rafters, a belt six inches from my left hand, I thought about joining him. Oh god, in that moment I wanted nothing moe than to join him. Instead, I hauled myself up and went to take a shower. Because that’s what I always did when I felt like this. It wasn’t a good idea.

As, I walked into the bathroom, the first thing I noticed wasn’t the new towels, or that I was out of shampoo, but the bottle of over-the-counter painkillers left on the counter. It felt like I was in a trance, I don’t remember picking it up, reading the warnings on the label, or opening it, but I do remember pouring out a handful and swallowing them a few at a time. I remember my parents yelling, my sister crying, flashing lights, and now i’m here, in a hospital bed with my parents and sister and sky on one side and my teammates on the other.

I woke up today, against all odds, surrounded by the contents of my room and knew it would never be okay again, but it could be better.

[midsummereve1993]

You can't stop love from happening if it's meant to be then it will happen

@appetite4savage @youlightmeupfinn @bvcksmunson @niksixx

A/n please let me know what you think of the story, i trying my best to try and make the best story i can. please let me know what you think and give me feedback please.

March 18 2019 5:00 pm

Kaitlyn stared out the window of the limo as she watched the streets go by on the way to the premiere, almost eighteen years ago in may her dad and uncles had written a book called the the dirt about there life's involving when they first started and the trouble and shit they did when they were younger. She remembers her dad and uncles doing a lot of press because she was left with her older brother since she was eleven and it was too young but after a friend lent her the book to read she begin to ask questions which made Mick call a meeting with her uncles and they answered all her questions, immediately she launch into why her uncle Nikki took drugs to which he responded he had a bad childhood and didn't know how to cope with the pain of it and it lead him down the wrong path. She then asked about the car accident, and Vince said he regrets it every day and that you should never drink and drive nor do drugs. Once she got to her dad, she asked about his bone disease, and he told her everything and anything she wanted to know. While Mick thought she was too young to know about all that stuff, he knew she would only try it and hope that she never got the chance to. "You sure are quit she heard her stepmother voice and turned to see them looking at her, "just thinking about the past is all she said, looking out the window again, making Mick smile fade.

Three weeks ago she was raped while walking back to the house and become a shell, she begin to shut everyone out and refused to come out in fear so the fact he talked her into coming with him was a miracle in it itself, he hoped that being out and with her uncles she would open up to what really happen that night because she has not said anything except to the police and they still hadn't found the guy yet. "You know what? I told you right, "thinking of the past isn't good because it makes you go to a dark place," he said to his daughter, knowing he was right. When she thought of the past, her mind would go to a dark place, and when that happens, she made choices that weren't always right, "Yeah, i know, but i can't help it, dad. "I mean, it's be three weeks, and this is still bugging me. Hey, it takes time, baby girl, you know that. 'Remember what the doctor said about this, "people don't aways heal straight away it takes time and the only way for that to happen is if you talk about it he said trying to push a little to see where his daughter head was, "I don't want to talk about it dad so please Just drop the question please kaitlyn said hating when her dad brings it up.

"Ok baby ok i drop it but you know you can aways talk to us or your uncles right he said leaning over to grab her hand as he watched her shake her head yes, as the limo pulled up to the red carpet they all got out and headed toward the theater as they stoped and took pictures for the cameras, as she walked along she couldn't help but notice the stares she was getting and hurried up and didn't get anymore pictures because she didn't feel comfortable. She kept walking until she accidentally run into some chest making her nearly fall if they hadn't caught her, "wow hey I'm sorry I wasn't looking where i was going she heard a welsh accent and she looked up to see I Iwan Rheon The Welsh actor who played her dad in the movie. "No it was my fault she said, looking into his beautiful eyes, "wait, your Kaitlyn Mick daughter Iwan said freaking out because he nearly ran over Mick Mars' daughter. Kaitlyn Begin to laugh which was music to his ears, "don't worry my dad won't hurt you if you knock me down she said not understanding why she was being calm and collected since she can never be near a man that wasn't her uncles or dad. "Good because I certainly don't want him on my tail Iwan said, he heard about what happened to her from the news and could see she had a bit of fear in her eyes so he did the only thing he knew to do.

"Well it was nice to meet you but i need to go to talk to Douglas he said walking away but not before planting a kiss on her hand, "Kaitlyn watched the men go and felt butterflies in her stomach making her worried. "No Kaitlyn you can't fall for him because he is just like the person who rape you she told herself and hurried into the theater and took her seat, during the whole movie she couldn't keep her eyes off iwan and it bothered her so bad. She was afried of men but just a few minutes ago she had a full conversation with men who is five years older then she was and not once did she feel scared, meanwhile seraina saw the look her stepdaughter was giving the men three seats down from him and couldn't help it smile, she deserves happiness and maybe he can get her to open up again but she was not going to tell mick in fear that he may do something crazy and make Kaitlyn retreat back into her shell. After the conversation, she heard she saw bits and pieces of the old Katie coming back, and that was something she liked to see. She turned back toward the movie but kept her eyes on her stepdaughter. Midway thought the movie seraina saw Kaitlyn get up and leave, which made her start to get up before she saw Iwan get up and she stayed seated.

Outside in the hall Kaitlyn was pacing back and forth trying to end her panic attack so she could go back to the movie when she heard the door open and a Welsh voice speaking to her, "are you ok Kaitlyn i saw you get up and got worried Iwan said looking at the women before him watching as she pace back and forth, "no I'm not fine i feel like I can't breath. "Hey take a deep breath and let it out with me Iwan said grabbing her shoulders to help her out, for the next two hours he stayed by side her helping her through the panic attack before he let go. "The movie is almost over so why don't i buy you a soda and some popcorn and we can talk about what cause the attack Iwan said as they both went towards the snack booth, once the movie was over mick noticed his daughter didn't come back and went to checked on her but stop when he saw her laughing and giggling with Iwan over at the snack bar making him smile, since she got rape she really hadn't allowed any men near her except him, his bandmates and her brothers and nephews but that was it so to see her laughing again made him happy.

He felt an arm come around his arm and look to see his wife looking at him, "i know what you're thinking honey and sure he maybe five years older than her but look at them. "When have you ever seen her laughing and giggling for real and not faking it, "not for a while, he said, looking back toward his daughter. "You know what they say about love, "if it's meant to be, then you can't stop it Seraina said, looking to her stepdaughter and Iwan. "Oh gosh, I haven't laughed this long in a while she said, looking to Iwan, who had a smile on his face, "glad i could help you and look. "I just wanted to say you didn't deserve anything that happened to you, and i had a crush on you since last year but never said anything because i was afraid. "Why nothing to be scared about, "of course there is, "your Mick mars the men I literally play in the movie and the thought of him skinning me alive for hurting his little girl, "hahah yeah he comes off as hard but he really is a gentle men she said remembering how her dad comes off imitated but he only does it because he knows what teenagers do since he had to watched his bandmates do stupid stuff. "How about me, and you go on a date together tomorrow night, "I'll fly out to Tennessee, and you can show me around Iwan said as Kaitlyn nodded before watching her get up

March 18 2019 11:00 pm

Later that Mick and Seraina was sitting on there bed when they heard a knock and saw Kaitlyn standing there, "hi sweetie what's up Seraina said as the young women come in and sit on the bed. "Kaitlyn never come into there bedroom unless she wanted to talk or needed something, "Iwan asked me out on a date tomorrow and i want to go, "i feel something with him that i never felt before with any of the others and i want to.. "Go on, honey, go on the date, "you deserve to be happy, and if he makes you happy and makes you open up, then go. "I see the old Kaitlyn coming back, and i love it mick said, rubbing his daughter cheek before she powed into his arms, hugging him as he wrapped his arms around her. He watched as she walked out the bedroom and then looked to his wife, "our girl is coming back to us he said as he laid down on the bed with seraina cuddle up to him and they both fell asleep.

March 19 2019 12:00 pm

Mick watched his daughter come down the stairs in a red dress and he couldn't believe this beautiful women standing in front of him used to wear tinker bell dress and run around with pigtails, "what do you think dad it isn't too much right Kaitlyn said turning around for her dad to see. Since she was a little girl she has aways loved her dad opinion on things and it hadn't stoped since, "i think it's just right and you look beautiful just like your mom Mick said as he thought about his late girlfriend. . "Sometimes i wish she was here, you know, "i mean, I'm thinking for les and Stormy and you, but. "I get it baby a girl aways wants her mom around no matter how old she is Mick said which was the truth, "he should be coming any minute dad could you let him in while I run back upstairs and put on some earrings to match my dress she said as she run up the stairs making Mick laughed. He heard the doorbell ring, and he walked over and opened it to see Iwan standing there and letting him in. "She be back down in a minute, "she is just putting on earrings. "Not a problem Iwan said with a little terror in his voice. "You don't have to be afraid of me, "i know, but I'm going on a date with your daughter, so i am terrified. Long as you treat her right, then you have nothing to worry about as both turned toward the stairs as they heard heels on the steps.

"Wow you look beautiful Iwan said speechless that this women is going on a date with him, "Thinks i changed clothes at least eight times she said laughing as she kissed her dad Goodbye and they headed off out the door with Mick watching them leave.

March 20 2019 4:00 am

Mick stared out the window looking at his phone hoping his daughter would call him back, after they left yeasterday they never came home which at the time mick wasn't worried becaue he knew sh would be home eleven but when he woke up this morning and went to check on her he discovered her bed wasn't slept in so now he was up waiting. "Baby, what's wrong? serina said, sitting up in bed. She had reached her hand over but felt her husband side of the bed and felt it empty.

"She didn't come home last night after we went to bed, "what do you mean she said out of bed and headed over to her husband rubbing his back. "Kaitlyn, she never came. I got up to check, and her bed wasn't slept in. mick said with worry in his voice. Kaitlyn had always come home at eleven when she went out on dates, but this time she didn't, and mick was worried. "Maybe they fell asleep somewhere or went to a movie, and because it was so late, they probably spent the night somewhere seraina said, rubbing his back and giving him a kiss. "Why don't we go make a pot of coffee, and I'll wait with you she said, walking with her husband downstairs.

March 20 2019 8:00 am

Kaitlyn felt movement and opened her eyes to see the top of the ceiling of a car, and her eyes widened, "holy shit she said sitting and turning to look at Iwan, who was still asleep. "Iwan wake up we fell asleep she said slapping the men chest as he woke up and they both got dressed and he started driving her to the hosue and pulled into the driveway, "oh men your dad is gonna kill me he said looking toward Kaitlyn who giggled, "why are you giggling for your Dad is literally plotting my death he said not believing she was Laughing about the situation.

"Calm down, baby, "my dad may be upset, but he isn't gonna kill you she said as she got out and headed up the steps as Iwan drove away as she placed the key in the lock and unlocked it before heading inside and closing the door behind her. As she headed to the kitchen, she stopped when she saw her dad and stepmother in the kitchen drinking coffee. "Dad, I can explain she said, going into details about every except the part where she and Iwan had sex. The last thing her dad needed was to have murder on his life .

"You're back safe now so I can rest east mick said as he stood up to hug his daughter, "what say you have some coffee with us?seraina said as she poured another glass, and sit it in front of her daughter. As the day went on Kaitlyn thought about the special moments but then quickly realized one small issue,"iwan never used a condom which sent dear up her spine.

[mortalisangelus]

Everywhere you go i hope you know you're never alone.

Summary:

A female perspective on dealing with love, losing people, growing up and the effects one person can have in the space of a year while navigating complicated families, mental health, and education.

A teen girls admittance of bottled up emotions in the form of a one sided conversation addressed to a boy who will never know her feelings. Her feelings for him is the start of a realisation and year long journey of growth, anger and feminine frustration.

TW - underage drinking, talks of abuse, depression, anxiety, mature topics

Chapter 1: Unexplained explanation

I hate you so much but I can’t stop thinking about you. At first you were only a name I heard from my friend, well my best friend at the time, Flossie. She would talk about you non-stop and I think it’s because she liked you a lot. Most the stuff she said about you was kinda negative. I read somewhere that when people constantly bring up someone in a way to put them down, when the person hasn’t done anything, it’s usually because they like them and are trying to find ways to talk about that person without raising suspicion. I’m not entirely sure on the validity of that, but I’m half convinced there’s some truth behind that idea. Anyways, I heard about you before I even met you. You and my friend had some sort of thing going on between You two, if it was romantic I cannot say for sure but I have a strong inclination it was. I don’t think you would have ever been right for each other, you were both too different. I remember her talking about the arguments you’d have, it’s a good thing you were never together. Perhaps I say that selfishly, but I remember thinking that before I ever met you. Although nothing happened and you two moved on,I don’t think she ever did, and maybe you didn’t either. That’s not something I’ll ever know. Well, either way the truth is there’s something about you that entices people in but you’re too noncommittal to ever let people satisfy their curiosity.

You’re a Handsome man and you know you are and you receive plenty of attention, you know how to play up your allure, annoyingly. Your demeanour and your looks match each other well, but your personality is one that surprised me at first. All I knew of you before I met you was a second hand impression attached with pictures I’d seen on social media. From what I’d been told you were some sort of player, with this aloof arty in a writer type of way, with some angsty attitude somewhere in the mix. The trouble is knowing things about you from someone else meant I knew things you never told me and maybe for personal reasons. I feel bad about it now, although at the time I was only listening to a new story my friend had, what could be wrong with that? The more I got to know you on my own I felt like we had more and more in common. In fact I found you to be a really diligent and smart person, with a secret soft side. My friend told me about your past and about how your sister made false allegations of abuse against you and your dad, causing your family to drift apart. You made it very clear that you didn’t like your sister, which, to be honest came off slightly weird as you never disclosed this to anyone else. Knowing the deeper reason I can sympathise, especially as a similar situation happened with me. I never told you this but my brother was physically abusive to me, my sisters and mum. On multiple occasions the police had to get involved. This is something I’ve never really told anyone and I know you’ll never know this but I just wanted you to know I get it. I’m sorry I know about it.

In reality it’s silly how much of an impact you’ve had on me, I keep talking about how before I met you but I’ve only ever actually met you in person a handful of time. Most of the time we spoke it was via text or message embarrassingly on Snapchat, oh and there was lots of calls on Facetime. I can remember every time I met you and all the thoughts I had and my feelings around those times. I’ve known you for just over a year; you’ve changed my life greatly in that time, but for you? It’s like I entered and left yours without any evidence I was ever there. I have so many things I wanna say to you or admit to you but I can’t and never will. I’ve never met someone who has made me so upset, happy, confused, and frustrated all at once. My situation that adds a secondary layer to my friendship to you is confusing but makes a little bit of sense of all that went on, what I felt and maybe still feel. This is a layer I need to explore in words for myself as I write this. I speak addressing you in this, but I hope you understand this is more an exercise for me. I need to make sense of who I’ve been over the last year or so, and let myself move on emotionally from a part of my life that I can’t figure out. A map of the times we met, our calls, you, what everything meant to me. A route to understanding my place as a woman, and the helplessness I feel.

It’s not all your fault, but I’d like to at least hear you say “I’m sorry”, Benji.

[6mommymilkers9]

Could I request for headcanons of TMNT Bayverse Turtles to their s/o saying they know how it feels to be discriminated especially of something that they can't control when he asks how are they so open minded?

Of course! These are really creative. Hopefully you like it! Keep them requests coming. Remember I write for Bayverse!, 2012, and Rise!

Michelangelo

• Michelangelo, the fun loving terrapin never got upset. But when he did, he hit rock bottom. Earlier in the day, he had been watching television, as he always did. As the news channel popped up, the news anchor peaked his interest. The brothers had been would with the NYPD for little over a week, and it seemed as if they were covering an article on them.

• “The ‘Mutants’ have been working with our local police force, diligently solving case after case! While becoming hero’s of New York City, many are weary. What are these freaks up to? Are they really kind, or are thing you to something? The public is on edge for an answer! Now on to the constr-”

• Turning off the television, the youngest turtle got up, an expression that didn’t suit his features. “Do they just not understand?” He muttered, trudging to his room. They saved New York, the world! This is what they get in return?

• “Mikey!…Mikey!” Hands cupping around your lips, voice echoing throughout the walls, there was no sign of your turtle. You had saw the article being covered and knew you had to check up on your turtle. Starting to get worried, you began to search everywhere for the terrapin. To no avail, you made way to the last place you could think of, his room. What you saw…wasn’t your boyfriend.

• Sighing, his head being held up by a lonely hand, his other playing with the seems of this pants, he slowly looked over at his open door, seeing you look over at him. “How do you do it? How can you stay so open minded about this? They judge and judge. All we do is protect them.”

• “How do I do it?” Grabbing the terrapins large hand in yours, brushing your thumb over his knuckles, you offered him a soft smile. “I ignore it. It seems hard, but it gets easier over time. You’ll feel the words, their actions, punch you in the gut. You’ll get used to it, their reactions anyway. When you realize that all that matters is you and knowing who and what you are, you’ll become bullet proof. Even if you already are.” You giggled, watching as his blue hues started into your own. “You’re perfect the way you are. Turtle..human..it doesn’t matter. You’re a good person Mikey. Remember that.”

• Cupping his cheek, you peppered tiny kisses on his nose, making the youngest brother laugh and swat at your actions. “Okay okay! Knock it off!” He whisper-yelled, holding your face, stopping your little attack. “Maybe you’re right Y/n. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Shrugging playfully, you grasped his wrists. “Not have a super awesome person like me.” Laughing lightly, Michelangelo smushed his face with your, giving you a toothy kiss.

Raphael

• Tossing the newspaper to the ground, Raphael held a scowl that could kill. “GODDAMNIT! Will this ever fucking STOP!” He wailed throwing himself onto the couch, nearly shaking with anger. “Fuck this, fuck them, fuck it!” Last week he had busted a large criminal operation and this is what he gets?

• Peaking from the kitchen, you saw the hotheaded turtle have another one of his episodes, maybe a little bit worse. Deciding lunch could wait, you quickly hurried over the the red terrapin. “Raph? What happened?” Getting only a simple gesturing pointing to the newspaper, you gently picked it up, reading the header. ‘Turtle Freaks: Friend or Foe?’

• Air escaping your mouth, you let the paper fall from your grasp, floating it’s way to the sewer floors. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry.” Knowing to be careful with your words, you say next to the hothead, laying a soft hand on his thigh. “How can you go out there and face those people?! How can you deal with shit like that? I do nothing but work my ass off and I still get called a damn freak!” He yelled, tears evident in his eyes.

• “Not everyone thinks the same Raph. Despite what that damn paper says, not everyone thinks you’re a freak or an enemy. People like you. They think you’re a hero. You can’t let things like that get to you. I let it get to me and that didn’t go too well. While I’m just a human, I’ve been judged, ridiculed, outcasted by people for the way I look, act, for who I am. But they don’t matter in the end. They are just some assholes who want to get to you. They’re miserable in their own way.” Sighing a bit, you cuddled up to the large terrapin. “If it helps, I think you’re the most amazing turtle in New York.”

• Looking down at his human, he wrapped an arm around them, soaking up their warmth. Taking a few breaths, Raphael gave you a small smile. “Damn right I am sweet cheeks.” Kissing the top of your head, he massaged your arm. “Thank you.” He mumbled. “No problem Raph. That’s what I’m here for.”

Donatello

• The lab, usually silent, except for the occasional explosion or sound of metal clanging, was eerily quiet. A drop of water would echo if it could. “Donnie?” You called out, opening the lab door ajar. Watching the news, it was bad. They were hero’s, how could people not see that?

• Shutting the door behind you, you heard a faint sound. Ever so quiet, but audible. Walking around, the sound becoming louder and louder, you felt your heart break. Tears streaking down his green skin, arms wrapped around his scrunched legs, Donatello was miserable. His tech was in the corner, mask tossed across a swivel chair.

• “Could these mutants be trusted? What about the turtle called Donatello? He could be storing weapons dangerous to society? What if they turned to their aggressive nature? What will the NYPD do then?”

• The news, barely audible, laid playing not too far from the two of you, making you cringe at the news anchor. “Hey hey hey…don’t. Donnie…don’t listen to them.” Kneeling down, wiping away tears that seemed to never end, you could only pity your boyfriend.

• “I’d never hurt anyone. I protect. I- I’m not a monster…am I?” Donatello sputtered out, lifting his head slightly to look at you. Shaking your head quickly, you snatched the turtles hands into your own, making him to his full attention towards you. “Donatello, my love, you are no monster. Those people, that anchorman, those are the monsters. No matter your skin, your shell, your hands or your feet. You’re no different than any of us. You’re so smart and the kindest soul I have ever met. You kick ass and protect your brothers, me. You saved the world my love. You have developed so many gadgets that current science cannot replicate. You’re one of a kind. The next Einstein.” Kissing his knuckles, you offered a toothy smile.

• A weak smile scribbled on the terrapin’s face, he clutched onto your small hands. “How are you so open minded? After everything you’ve seen?” Getting up, pulling the turtle to his feet, you looked up at him. “I have hope, for everyone. Good or bad.” Nodding, the turtle accepted your answer, feeling a little better. “Come on,” pulling at Donatello’s arm, you gave a small giggle. “Let’s go play some monopoly.” Donatello couldn’t be happier hearing about his favorite board game.

Leonardo

• Leonardo, leader of the turtle brothers, gave a front that he couldn’t be broken down, that he was bullet proof. He tried to convince himself that. He tried not to let things bother him. He tried so hard. Day in and day out, but he began to reach his breaking point.

• He loved his brothers, but, he knew he couldn’t talk to them about his feelings. Splinter wouldn’t be the best help. He didn’t need guidance, he needed comfort. And that comfort was you.

• Opening your window, closing it behind him, he walked around your apartment. It was small, but it was big enough where he could move freely without much trouble. Finding you in your bed, television dim against your skin, he found you smiling up at him. God, what he would do to see that smile every chance he could get.

• “What brings you here stranger.” You giggled, patting the empty spot on your bed. Taking your offer, he sat down on the bed, getting himself comfortable. “I suppose you’ve seen the news lately. It’s - it’s getting to me Y/n” he started, opening his heart to you.

• Running a hand over his head, he looked over at you, not wanting to break away from your orbs. “I train hard. I fight. I bruise. I have nearly died many times for these people. I don’t feel like a hero. Somehow they’ve made me think I’m just like other criminals. They protest about mine and my brothers presence in the NYPD. They scream ‘Freaks’, ‘Monsters’, anything they can to get a reaction from us. I try not to let it get to me. I’m a leader for Christ sake. And I see you, you act more like me when you’re out with us. You don’t let it get to you. How?”

• “I know how you feel Leo. I’ve been in your shoes before, ya know. High school was rough. I was thrown around, beaten, tossed in the damn garbage. They all laughed at my misery, the very misery they created, formed until it consumed me. Over time, I learned, it’s not me that was wrong, but them. Like those people out there.” Gesturing to the window, people walking down the street with no care in the world. “The very same people love to see your misery. If you give them what they want, they won. Learn to let things go Leo, let their actions, words, roll off of your shell and turn to goo. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

• “I think so.” The terrapin murmured, taking in your words. “Leo?” You asked, laying a hand on his chest, catching his attention. “Hmm?” Leaning up, giving the turtle a small peck, cuddling up to the large mutant. “I love you.” Wrapping his arms around your small frame, he hurried his face deep into your hair. “I love you too.”