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safination · 8 months ago

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Partners in Death... and Life

Part 3: Not Everything You Hear From the Radio Should be Trusted

| Part 2: Radio Will be Dead if He Doesn't Explain Himself| Part 4: The Radio Star’s Co-host Just Wants To Do The Dishes||Masterlist| ao3| Tag-list| Parings: Alastor x wife!reader Tags: fem!reader, established relationship, hopefully not but just in case ooc!alastor (I'm still trying my best to keep him as canon as possible) Reader is in hell for a reason. Please take note of the following warnings: Body horror. Graphic descriptions of injuries, glass piercing skin, cutting of skin, cutting of chest. Dissection of Human muscles. Misogyny Just…be careful out there

Series Summary: After a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping... *checks notes*... the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason.

Hello. I usually aim to post on Wednesdays, and I knoooow it's not a Wednesday. But, in my defense, this chapter is longer than chapters 1 and 2 combined. Also, I tried to keep the body horror to a medium level. I tried to find a perfect balance of horrifying but also still readable. Would you guys want more body horror, or less, or is this a good amount? Updated: 5/01/2024 *just realized that I forgot to add the part I was supposed to add*

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The heart monitor beeps with a steady rhythm. The model’s ECG reading dip, but that’s normal for her species. You study the model asleep on your table, and take your place.

Turning to your interns, you adjust the fit of your gloves as say, “Are you ready?

From the other side of the table, Lys nods her head with such vigor that you’re afraid it would fall off. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be!”

Heme takes their place next to you, wheeling the cart within your reach. “Aren’t there supposed to be more people here?” they ask, adjusting the fit of their mask with their shoulder. “We don’t even have an anesthesiologist present, and the technician dumped the tools and left without a word!”

Sighing, you take another look at the screen, and monitor the patient’s ECG readings. Just a couple of decades ago, you wouldn’t even be allowed to take five steps into a surgical suite, but in your death, you stare at the state-of-the-art Vox technology heart monitor.

“This was dumped at the last minute. And the Vees paid a hefty amount for the best,” you say, smiling to yourself. “I guess it doesn’t help that most of the staff have clocked-off for the night already.”

“It really doesn’t,” Heme says. You think they frown, you’re not actually sure. It’s hard to tell with masks on, but Heme sounds like they’re frowning.

“On the bright side, this is a special case, and special cases require special means,” you say. “Stick around, and I’ll make sure to show you something amazing.”

Lys squeals, jumping a bit, “I can’t wait to see your work.”

You turn to Heme. “Tell how you were guided into stopping the bleeding by Doctor Neisseria.”

Heme straightens, round their shoulders. “Hemostatic dressing for the capillaries,” they recite. “Then Lys clipped the bigger vessels, and Doctor Neisseria used an electrocautery for any that we missed.”

“Good,” you say. “Lys, is this your first time using a clip?”

“ . . . Yes,” Lys tells you. Even with a mask on, you could tell she was sulking.

You eye the cart between you and Heme, double checking that the technician brought everything you requested for. “It shows,” you say. “Practice every chance you get. Make a deal with some poor and down on their luck Sinner who wouldn’t mind making a deal for permission to poke around whenever you want. They’ll heal on their own if it’s not too severe or don’t—I mean, that’s how I did mine.”

Lys blinks at you. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Your shoulder slumps. “ . . . Shall we just begin?”

Heme hands you a needle driver, the needle already clipped to it. A bunch of suture forms around your palm. It’s study, and made of pure Sinner Magical Energy, or just magic or whatever. It comes out of your and you have full control, that’s all you need to know.

Heme and Lys lean closer to observe the threads you make.

I don’t get to do this often.” You turn your head, motioning to the detached arm placed on the side. The skin has been stretched and the jagged and stringy muscle fibers sticking out tell you it’s been ripped off rather than slice. The radius protrudes out into the air, jagged and sharp. It would have hurt this model quite a lot. “Steady her arm please.”

Lys snatches the arm, holding it with confidence as she steadies it. “This is so cool.”

Heme hums. “Cool in a gross way.”

“Whether your patient is awake or not, a steady hand is key,” you say. “When you pierce your needle, be sure to do it right at the epidermis when dealing with the skin. Too deep and you’ll puncture the arteries or nerves.”

Lys brings the arm closer, and you do the first suture that will connect the limb of Velvette’s model. Valen-something apparently tore her up, but it wasn’t enough to kill her. So, they rushed her into the Emergency Room three days before this poor girl’s debut, and dropped her into your care with her arm and leg in an ice box.

You sew the model’s arm. The threads around your fingers are light, but sturdy. You entwine some around your fingers like some puppet master for better grip. Blood vessels, bones, nerves, and muscles. Not a single cell escapes your control.

You quiz your interns from time to time or tell them to take a closer look at where the vessels stick out the muscles, making sure they’re able to observe how a proper reattachment is conducted.

You study the threads connecting the arm to its body There are thousands of loose sutures. One single pull, and it will be completely reattached.

You shift your shoulders and crack your neck, giving it a slight stretch. “How long has it been?”

Lys glances at the clock behind you. “Five hours. I think it’s almost sunrise.”

“Be ready to be here for a while,” you say, rolling your shoulders. “The leg will be more complicated.”

Heme groans and their shoulder slump. “I guess I should just be thankful the model is mostly humanistic.”

You pull on the singular thread, and the stitches shorten until the arm is fully connected to its base. A thing line is the only indication that any limbs have been detached.

The door swings open and you snap your head at the sound.

“Hey doc!” The little Egg Boi saunters into the room, an envelope in his tiny hands. “I got something for you.”

Your feathers crack and sharpen. “If you wish to keep your shell,” you hiss at him, “you will leave this room before you contaminate it further.”

Egg Boi #04 wobbles a bit. “I was told to give you a message.”

A headache forms on your temples. You want to massage it, but that would contaminate your gloves. “Lys, show the egg to the observation room. Show him the microphone.”

Lys pouts a bit but exits the surgical suite.

Heme grabs the leg, and you begin again. You pause to take a deep breath. The threads don’t just appear out of thin air—they’re created because you will them to take shape. It gives as much as it needs to take from you.

Egg Boi# 04’s voice echoes on the speaker. “I have a note for you.”

“Read it then leave.” You pierce the tibia bone with your needle (special hell needle, you guess. Normal needles definitely cannot pierce bones) and connect it to the model’s leg.

Your concentration does not waver, even as Lys enters back into the room.

“ My dearest good doctor, ” Egg Boi #04 reads. “ What a helltastic day for –"

“Stop!” you exclaim, and the threads you’re producing fizzle a bit, “Is that from Alastor?”

“Uhhh . . . yes?”

“Give me 10 minutes.” You sew the model’s leg just like before, starting from bones, then vessels, the muscles, and finally skin, but this time at a much faster pace.

Thousands of strings connect the detached leg to its place.

Heme gawks at you. “I thought the leg was more complicated?”

“It is.”

“It took you five minutes to sew everything ,” they say. “Why did it take the arm until sunrise?”

“You wouldn’t have been able to learn anything if I went too fast.” You hand the needle driver to Heme, who takes it with eager hands “I trust you will be able to close for me?”

“Yes!”

“Go around the skin—remember not too deep,” you say. “Once it’s all connected, just one strong pull and the threads should work their magic. Lys, once she closes, you can practice your knots.”

The door closes with a swing. You discard your gloves then peel off your protective layers, but you keep the scrub cap on your head.

The Egg Boi waddles into the room, threatening to tip any moment. He holds up Alastor’s note and you’re forced to bend when you reach for it.

You open the envelope and sigh. “This is a letter, and definitely not a note ,” you say counting all the pages jammed into the envelope. “Notes are small pieces of paper, and not fifteen pages of paper scribbled back-to-back.”

You take one deep breath, flaring your nostrils as you contemplate your marriage choices, and begin reading.

Heme enters the holding room as you’re reading through the last page.

They take a look at the pages you’ve read. “Ohhhhh a letter?” they say, discarding their mask into the trash. Their gloves are next. “Who is it from?”

“My husband.”

“Why a letter?” Heme asks you “Why not just shoot you a text or a phone call?”

“He mumbles to himself when he writes, and he just loves hearing his own voice.” You turn to the Egg Boi once you’ve read the last word. “Tell Alastor I’m busy—I can’t leave work to go to the hotel on such short notice!”

“Right . . .” Heme leans against the sink. “Management will be dropping by this afternoon.”

Your eyes squint. “This afternoon? I was told there'd be visiting tomorrow!”

“Yes, they informed you last night,” Heme says. “It’s tomorrow now—morning, actually.”

Your eyes twitch as you turn to Egg Boi #4. “Tell him I will be early. Now go, run along now, lest you get scrambled.”

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Bustling sounds from the other side of the circus themed doors. You knock then take a step backwards, least Vaggie greets you with a fist to the face.

A crash sounds from the inside. The door slams open, and Charlie pops out, hair disheveled and sticking out in odd places. You see the relief oozing into her. Charlie’s smile relaxes and her eyes stop bulging at the sight of you.

She says your name with enthusiasm. “It’s just you! I am so glad to see you.”

You wave at her. “Hello, Charlie. It’s good to see you as well.”

“Would you like to come inside?” she says at the same time another crash sounds. Charlie’s smile turns sheepish. “I hope you don’t mind the mess.”

“It’s quite alright,” you say with a polite smile. “Who am I to judge another person’s mess? It can be quite entertaining sometimes.”

Charlies smoothens the stray hairs sticking out. It does little to actually fix it. “Sooooo what brings you by? Not that you’re not welcome here! Everyone is welcome here! We don’t discriminate at –”

The door swings wider and Alastor pops out with that permanent smile of his. “I called her here.”

Alastor helps you out of your coat as you enter through the doors, and drapes it over his arm. “I came early. I hope you don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the crudely attached banners. Strobe lights are being taped to the railings. Its brightness makes you blink. “Are you throwing a party? Is that why you called me here?”

Alastor hangs your coat on the rack. “We’re preparing for a sudden guest,” he says. “It seems we’ll have to delay our plans, only if you’re happy with waiting for me.”

Charlie shrinks and her eyes water a bit. “Alastor . . .,” she says with a frown. “If you have plans, that’s alright—go. We can manage without you here!”

“Not at all, this is where he needs to be right now,” you tell Charlie, placing a hand on her shoulder. Her smile brightens immediately. “Who will be the special guest today?”

Charlie fiddles with her fingers. “We invite my . . . dad .”

Alastor twirls his microphone. “The King of Hell himself.”

“Oh,” you start, “ the demon is coming here?”

“That’s actually Satan,” Charlie says with a smile. “Dad often gents confused with Satan but they’re not the same

“Oh . . . So, Lucifer is coming here.”

“Pretty much.”

You laugh a bit—you’re not even sure why. Maybe you shouldn’t have laughed. It sounded so awkward, even to you. “Well, how can I help? If it’s alright with you, of course.”

Charlie’s eyes brighten, and she shakes your shoulders. “Are you sure?”

Alastor grabs Charlie’s fingers with the tip of his own and pry them off you. “I’ve already come all this way,” you say, and turn to your husband. “I’m sure we can make the most out of this situation.”

Charlie leaves to change her clothes, and hopefully brush her hair while she’s at it.

Alastor offers his arm, and you loop your own around his, even when you know it’s unnecessary to escort you to a living area that’s five-feet away.

He leaves you, walking to the kitchen with a wave of his microphone.

The hotel looks the same, just more diverse colors hanging around. Niffty stalks past you without a word, engrossed in her task of sweeping the floor. Angel Dust or Vaggie don’t seem to be around, nor is Husk at his usual post. Only a one-eyed cat keeps you company.

On the table, deflated balloons are left forgotten with two pumps resting next to it. You take your seat, and complete the unfinished task.

You’re on the third balloon when Alastor presents a mug to you.

He leans over the chair, reaching his arms to place that ‘ Oh Deer’ mug on the table. It’s difficult to meet his eyes when he leans so far in front that his whole face is upside down.

His hair hangs in the air, and your husband looks goofy in such an awkward position that you can’t help but laugh. “You look awful this hellish morning!” he says, and his grin widens until his teeth show. “I thought you could use a bit of brightening up. You’re practically dozing off in the chair.”

“Thank you,” you say, a small smile on your face. “The coffee smells good.”

Alastor swings back, and lands next to you. “I know we agreed to leave such tasks to you,” he says and he waves his arms as he talks. “But you look ready to drop dead any second. Poor Niffty had swept about a hundred feathers on your short walk from the door to this chair—Long day?”

“ Longer day, actually. Yesterday’s long day turned into a late night that bleeds into today’s early morning.” You take a sip, and revel in its taste. Even after all these years . . . his coffee still tastes like acidic bean water. (If you smile, then that’s your business.) “The coffee tastes good.”

Alastor crosses his leg, cracking a laugh hard enough for his eyes to bulge. “You didn’t even try to check if it’s been tampered,” he says with that same wild smile. “Are you that tired, my love?”

You smile at him, lips curving bright and wide. “My deerest, did you place something into my coffee?”

“Not at all.”

“That’s disappointing,” you say, taking another sip. “That suit of yours could use some brightening up! A splash of this bean water would add such an interesting texture to it.”

“We’ll it good to see you’re not tired enough to lose your way with words,” Alastor says, smiling at you. “But if you’ve had a ‘ longer’ day, you could have sent the Egg Boy—"

“It’s Egg Boi, my deerest.”

Alastor squints, his brow furrowing as he does. “That’s what I said.”

“You said Egg Boy, deerest,” you tell him, taking a longer sip than usual to drown your laughter. “Those eggs are called Egg Bois . They have different numbers—except Frank.”

On the corner of his cheek—just where it’s always been—Alastor’s smile strains. “You said the same thing as I did.”

“Egg Bois.”

“Egg Boys.”

“Egg Bois .”

“Egg Boys .”

You chuckle a bit, and take another long slip. “If you say so.”

Alastor rolls his eyes and he makes it a point to show you he’s doing so. “You could have mentioned to that egg creature that you’d had a long day.”

“Management was dropping by my floor today.” You grab another balloon to pump it.

Alastor’s head tilts, and you hear the small crack of his neck. Static fills the air. “Well, I’m always glad to be used in such a way.”

You roll your eyes, making it a point to show Alastor that you’re doing so. The sharpened feathers and the glow of your eyes were just for the fun of it. “There is another reason why I dropped by the hotel.”

“Do tell!”

You knot the end of the balloon and throw it to the side. “Who am I to refuse the summon of the Radio Demon?”

“His wife.”

You snort, and toss a balloon at him. One balloon becomes two and now you’re just tossing whatever balloon you could get your hands on.

Alastor pops a balloon and static emits from his microphone.

You cross your arms, staring down at him. “I was going to use that.”

Alastor grabs the second pump.

An hour passes too soon. They always seem to do around your husband. The balloons are stringed and weighted. Razzle and Dazzle—the two lambs Charlie made a point to introduce you too—put up . . . er . . . interesting banner on the railings.

Sir Pentious slithers out the kitchen, a tray of cookies in his hold. The Hazbin Hotel looks lively. The space looks decent—live in — as if Sinners actually gathered and used the space. (Those are your favorite kind.)

Sir Pentious offers a cookie to you, and you munch on it. You give him a compliment for its taste.

By the entrance, with Vaggie to her side and Alastor at the other, Charlie takes a deep breath, her nostrils flaring as she does.

Vaggie gives her a smile, and Charlie opens the door.

The bringer of sin rushes to his daughter, drowning her in a hug.“Chaaaaarlie!”

Charlie squirms in his hold. “Heeeyy, Dad!”

Egg Boi #13 and Egg Boi #08 twist their poppers and confetti pops into the air. Niffty grabs her broom, sweeping the floor.

You watch Lucifer, and try to hide your smile. The King of Hell looks different from any paintings or drawings humans make. They can’t seem to capture how shy he looks. How awkward. No painting has been able to capture his search for a place to belong.

This Fallen Angel has blond hair. He’s not the brunette you thought he’d be, which was a shame for you rather liked brunets. It makes sense he’d be blond. Afterall, Charlie has blonde hair as well, and she is the spitting image of her father.

If someone told you it was Lucifer who birthed her, you wouldn’t be able to deny it.

“It’s finally nice to put a name to the face.” Alastor shakes Lucifer’s hand with his microphone, wiping his own right after. “You are much shorter in real life.”

You turn aways, coughing to hide your laughter as Alastor banters with Lucifer.

Husk rolls his eyes at you and grumbles. “Of course, you’d find that hilarious,” he says. “Everyone knows it's smart to insult Lucifer.”

You place a hand on your cheek. “Guilty as charged.”

Charlie brings Lucifer to meet your group. He calls Vaggie, Maggie. Smiles awkwardly when Angel Dust calls him a ‘short king’ . Lucifer waves back when Husk waves at him, and shrinks when Niffty jumps and pulls him by the collar. One by one, you’re introduced.

You extend your arm for a handshake.

Lucifer smiles awkwardly, shrinking a bit, but reaches out to shake your ha—

The chandelier crashes to the floor.

And oh God . . .

Lucifer begins to sing.

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Your hair sticks to your face.

Water droplets splash on your clothes. You accept your fate, and trudge through the rain, even as your fingers freeze. The breeze blows your hair, making you nuzzle into your damp coat. You should have brought an umbrella, or taken a cab. Just your luck, a sunny day turns into a drizzle that turns your shoes into a lake. You hate damp socks.

An umbrella blocks the rain from your soaked clothes.

You spring out of its coverage, spinning to look behind. Your arms jerk out, causing you to wobble because of the wet pavement. (That’s totally not embarrassing.)

“The point of an umbrella is to stay underneath it when it’s raining.” Alastor smiles, giving you a small wave.

You wave back.

“Oh . . . hello,” you say, adjusting the straps of your bag. Alastor takes a step forward, and you jump backwards. “I’m alright—I can manage by myself.”

“Why don’t you tell me all about your very capable self from underneath the umbrella,” he says, twirling the umbrella. “Come on, now.”

You dip your head inside. Alastor inches closer, but there’s still a respectable gap between your shoulders. “I’m really alright,” you say. “I quite love the rain.”

“Yes, the rain is a beautiful thing to frolic underneath when you’re in a meadow,” Alastor says. You can’t help but feel that Alastor is scolding you, “not when it splashes off buildings and drips off power lines and other items that have not been cleaned. We are in the city, my dear.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“My mother would roll in her grave and haunt me when she finds out I left a lady in the rain.”

“But—”

“Constant refusal is quite rude, you know,” he tells you. “And I still owe you one favor.”

“You really wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all,” Alastor says with a smile that makes you smile back. “If it makes you feel more comfortable, I’m happy to leave my umbrella in your umbrella-less but capable hands, and be on my way.”

You shake your head, inching closer. “We can share if you don’t mind walking.”

“I love walks. It keeps me stimulated.”

Alastor follows your every step, covering you with an umbrella that was meant for one. You glance at his shoulder, and turn away to hide your frown. Half of his shoulder sticks out into the rain, gathering droplets, while not a single speck of water slides on you.

Alastor is giving you the bigger half of the umbrella.

“Would you mind holding this?” he asks.

“Not at all,” you say, and take a hold of his umbrella. Alastor is taller, and you have to quirk your arms higher to avoid hitting his head.

Alastor slips out of his coat. You watch him slide it off his shoulders and pull his arm out the slits. He’s wearing a vest—a fine vest as well. Alastor flicks out stray waterdrops. He leans close enough for you to smell his cologne. He drapes his coat over your shoulders, grabbing the lapels to adjust its fit. His body heat lingers. It’s warm . . . he’s warm.

Alastor pries the umbrella from your grip with a wide smile. “Before you say anything, the only response that I will be accepting is, ‘thank you’.”

“Thank you, Alastor.”

“You’re welcome.” He adjusts the angle of the umbrella, careful to keep every drop of rain from touching you, even at the cost of his own clothes. “Whatever made you decide to walk? There are cabs and busses for a reason.”

“It wasn’t that bad when I started,” you say. “Plus, I was eager to get home.”

He keeps his eyes ahead. “It’s still quite dangerous.”

You step over a puddle, narrowly missing it. “Dangerous?”

“Yes!”

“The sun is—well, was still up when I began walking.”

Alastor hums, shaking his head. “Murders and thieves do not magically dissolve in the sun.”

You smile to yourself. “I’m sure you’re quite knowledgeable on that subject.”

Alastor turns to you, and his hair shifts as he tilts his head. “Pardon?”

“I heard your voice on the radio this morning,” you tell him, adjusting his coat around your shoulders. “I caught the news segment.”

“Well,” he starts, his smile widening. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “you must have been busy when I mentioned the forecast then.”

You inch closer as much as he’ll allow you, trying to keep a respectable distance, but still close enough that Alastor doesn’t need to sacrifice his clothes to keep yours dry. “Speaking of radio, what brings you to this area?” you say. “Isn’t the radio station all the way across town?”

Alastor laughs in a way that makes you wish you’ve kept your mouth shut. “Have you been tracking my movements?”

“Not at all,” you say and try to mimic his laugh. It comes out strained instead. “I just know how to read a map.”

Alastor steps over a puddle. He places a hand on your back, guiding you away from it. “I just had some business in the area,” he says and drops his hand. “I turned the corner and I found you walking all alone in the rain!”

You smile, careful to keep your eyes forward. “I’m thankful to whatever beings that fated our paths to cross.”

Alastor leans closer, eyeing your hands. “Been gardening recently?”

You glance at your nails, at where stubborn soil sticks underneath the cuticle. “No . . . not at all,” you say slowly. “I guess you could say . . . light treasure hunting . . . ?”

“The more I get to know you, the more I find myself dumbfounded at your wide range of hobbies.”

“I hate seeing things go to waste.” You try to ignore the squish of your socks. You are definitely never forgetting your umbrella again. “For example, your garbage is my treasure.”

“What a wonderful philosophy to live by.” Alastor meets your eyes and smiles.

You smile back. “Indeed, isn’t it?”

Alastor’s hold on the umbrella stays firm, even as he follows you around the corner and across the street. Not a single drop of water lands on you. “What treasure were you able to find?”

“You have a lot of questions for me today,” you say and ignore the thumping of your heart. “I feel as if you know me more than I know you—I think that’s rather unfair.”

“Well, what would you like to know?”

You move your foot to avoid puddles of trash. The city could really use a good cleaning. “You know so much about my hobbies. So, I’d like to know some of yours.”

“There isn’t really much to tell,” he says. “The radio is my life.”

A strong breeze has you sinking deeper into Alastor’s coat. “You have your hunts.”

You glance at Alastor, and oh . . . his hair is as brown as his eyes. Wisps of hair stick to his face because of the rain.

Alastor’s brows furrow a bit, but you swear his smile turns sweet. “Those are more of a necessity than a hobby.”

“In what way?”

“The woods around my area have a lot of . . . let’s say, mammals that don’t necessarily belong there, it is as if someone just leaves them from time to time. I hunt a few here and there to thin the population a bit.”

You smile to yourself. “Well, tell me about the radio—What is that like?”

He places his free hand on his chest. “Why, it is the proper medium of expressing oneself, of course.”

“It must be nice having such a creative outlet,” you say. “Sometimes, I wonder how you’re able to come up with the most exciting segments.”

“Sadly, you would think after all these years of bringing success and money into the company, I would be allowed to have more control over my content.”

You step over another puddle. A small tug on Alastor’s arm, and he steps over it as well. “That is quite sad to hear.”

“For example,” he starts, adjusting his hold on the umbrella. “I wanted to have this whole portion just on crimes that have been committed.”

“Like . . . the news?”

“No, not at all,” he says. “I was thinking more on the lines of old cases like robberies and murders—some solved, some not. Unfortunately, the director said it would be too gruesome.”

“It really depends on how you choose to present it,” you say. “I think audiences would love a good mystery with a satisfying conclusion.”

“That is exactly what I thought so as well!” Alastor’s smile widens. “I came across this story . . . Oh, well I wouldn’t want to bother you with the details.”

“I’d love to hear this,” you say, chuckling. “Show me how you would present it.”

“One winter night,” he starts off with that never ending smile on his lips, “a child—no ordinary child—disappears in the middle of the night. There were no signs of a break in and nothing other than the child was taken from the home. Not a single dust was out of place.”

“Wait, what was so special about the child?”

“I will tell you,” he says. “That child was the two-year old son of aviator Charles Lindenberg! Some newspapers called the child the ‘Eaglet’ because his father had become the first man to fly across the Atlantic Oce—Oh, why are we stopping?”

He angles the umbrella, careful to keep you dry. You smile at him and point at the small apartment complex behind you. “This is where I live.”

Alastor doesn’t frown, but his smile droops a bit. “Oh . . . ” he says. “I was getting to the most interesting portion of the story—what a shame.”

“A shame, indeed,” you echo. “You have such a captivating way of conveying your words.”

“Thank you.”

The rain splatters on the umbrella. It’s not going to stop anytime soon. Your socks are damp and it’s starting to get colder. “Would you like to finish what you were saying?”

Alastor’s smile widens, just a bit, but it was enough for you to notice. “On the month of May, after continuous searching, a tiny little corpse was found abandoned on the side of the road. Forensics determined that the baby was bludgeoned to death.”

“It’s quite funny,” you tell him. “You talk of such gruesome murders but I find myself captivated.”

“Indeed.”

“Thank you for going out of your way for me, Alastor.” You slip out of his coat, returning it to him. It’s cold—has it always been this cold. “Will I see you around?”

“Of course,” he says. “We always meet in such unconventional places.”

You duck out of the umbrella, giving him one last smile and head up the steps. A twist of a doorknob, a few flights of stairs, and you would be home. You were tired, your socks are soaking, and the back of your clothes stick to your skin. So, why . . . why do you find yourself running back into the rain?

“Wait!” you find yourself exclaiming.

Alastor covers you with his umbrella. “What’s wrong?”

‘I . . . I may have a problem.” The words are slipping out of your lips. “Are you busy by any chance?”

“Not at all.”

“What about your business in the area?”

Alastor raises his eyebrows. “I can always come back.”

“Would you help me?” You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Of course.” Alastor brings the umbrella closer to you. “What can I do for you?”

“I think . . . ” you begin to say. Stop. Stop! You should turn back; head inside where warm clothes and a bath awaits you. “I think I’m in the wrong area.”

Alastor laughs, and it’s that same breathy and light laugh as before. He drapes his coat over your shoulder once more, and adjusts its fit to secure it around you. It’s the warmest thing you’ve ever experienced in your life. “I wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I left a lady stranded in the rain.”

“Not at all,” you say with a smile that you do not remember smiling. “Lots of scary thieves and murders out there—apparently they don’t disappear during the day.”

Alastor nudges you along, down the path, to a destination either of you have the faintest idea where it will end.

Your feet stay locked in its place, and you hold Alastor in your gaze. (His bowtie is crooked, and even with his coat around you, he looks presentable. His vest matches his shoes. You note how his smile is asymmetrical, and how his eyes are still as brown as his hair. Alastor’s glasses are frosted, but he doesn’t seem to mind.)

“Are you alright?” Alastor asks you.

“I’m fine. It’s just . . . .” You shake your head and smile. “It would be a waste to forget this.”

“Come on,” Alastor says in a voice that is oh so soft. He offers his arm, and you hook your own around his.

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“ Motherfucker! ” Husk curses into the air, his ears quirking as he does. “Would it fucking kill you to be gentle with that shit?”

“I am being gentle.” You stare him down, keeping the towel pressed firmly against his foot. “Would you want to know what it’s like when I’m not? I’d be very happy to comply.”

“ . . . No.”

“Then settle down, Husker ,” you say and use your free hand to grab the forceps from the hotel’s medical kit. “This will be much easier if you stay still . . . or don’t and give yourself a harder time. I’m not the one with glass sticking out of my foot.”

Husk sinks into the clinic bed, sulking as he crosses his arms. He picks on the pillow, fidgeting with its seams. “ Bitch. ”

You raise your eyebrows and huff. “ Virgin. ”

“I am not . . .grandma. ” Husk’s fangs show when he growls.

Your feathers bristle. It’s smart to keep Husk talking, even if hurling insults is the way to do so. If it keeps him distracted, you won’t complain. “I died in my late twenties . . . or was it my early thirties — I honestly forget.”

The blood on his foot begins to clot, and you toss the towel to the waste basket. You walk to the sink, rinsing stray droplets of Husk’s blood with soap.

“Settle down then, grandma,” he says with a triumphant smile, and you roll your eyes. “Today, it’s your memories. Tomorrow, it could be anything.”

You plop on the clinic chair, waiting for your hands to dry. “Yes, it would make sense you’re familiar with the signs,” you shoot back, “considering you lived long enough to be called Pawpaw — Is that why you’re a cat?”

Husk barks a laugh, his wings flaring. He grabs the pillow and tosses it to you. It hits the side of the chair and langs on your lap. You pick it up and toss it back at him. “At least my husband didn’t walk out on me for several years without so much as a word.”

You chuckle, and settle his foot on your leg for better access. Taking your forceps, you brush away slivers of glass from Husk’s foot . . . or would this be his paw?

You clip a shard of glass, and glance at him. When Husk doesn’t whine like a little bitch, you pull a shard and drop it to the metal pan across you. “At least my marriage lasted even through death, Arachnid Simp.”

Husk rolls his eyes. You smile when his whiskers twitch. “Where did you even learn that word?”

“I see you’re not going to deny it.”

Husk sinks deeper into the bed.

“This wouldn’t be happening if you—I don’t know—wore these things called shoes ?” You pluck another shard of glass. Husk tries to jerk his foot away, but your hold stays firm. “They were invented a long, long, time ago, and were created to keep your feet protected .”

“Stop talking as if I’m a child.” Husk frowns and his teeth stick out. “Wearing them feels weird.”

“I guess they kind of are weird.” You grab a fresh towel when blood squirts out of Husk’s foot. “You die and then suddenly waking up to see you don’t have toes

A beat passes between you. “Do you . . . do you not have toes?”

You toss the towel, and pick out the last shard. “Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy.”

“ What does that even mean ?” Husk growls, running his palms over his face.

“I . . . have absolutely no idea.”

You reach into the medical kit, grabbing some dressing. You peel the plastic and toss it to the trash, and press it against his foot.

Egg Boi #03 waddles up to you, a gauze roll in his tiny hands — you weren’t aware the little egg creature was in the room. You thank him with a smile, and wrap the gauze roll around Husk’s paw then his ankle. Satisfied, you clip it in its place.

“You’re all done,” you say. “It might be weird to step on it for a few hours, but it’s not impossible. The glass didn’t puncture you too deep.”

“Good to know.”

“Oh . . . and just in case, the amount of blood you saw isn’t anything to be scared of. There’s just a lot of tiny vessels on the foot. That’s why it took a while for it to stop,” you say and toss him a new set of gauze rolls and pads.

Husk stares at the items. “I don’t know how to use this.”

You stare at him, leaning into the chair. “Just slap the square on the skin and roll the gauze around your foot.”

Husk hops out of the clinic, keeping pressure off his injury.

It takes a while to clean up after yourself, but Egg Boi #03 keeps you company. The little egg speaks a lot of nonsense, but it’s entertaining nonetheless. You flick the lights, and Egg Boi #03 follows behind you.

The chandeliers had been dragged away, and the glass and debris cleared off the carpet.

Mimzy’s hug makes you take a step back.

You squirm in her hold, placing a placating hand on her shoulders.

“I am sooooo glad you are here!” Mimzy exclaims, shaking your shoulders. “This is like one big reunion, ay. Just between you and me, that Lucifer is a real looker—shame on Alastor for not warning a gal. I would have dressed better, and who knows? Maybe I could be the Queen of Hell. Ha! ”

Mimzy grabs your arm and drags you to the bar. Husk pours you a drink with a nod, and stalks away. Seeing him hop up the stairs makes you laugh.

You swirl your drink. “It’s always good to see you, old friend.”

“Not that old!” Mimzy swats your arm, a huge grin on her lips. “And there’s no need to lie to me, darling. I doubt you actually feel that way.”

“Well, I still have those burn marks on my wall from the time you decided to play bartender with matches.”

Mimzy barks a laugh, and her legs kick. “C’mon you can’t still be blaming me! If I remember correctly, it was Alastor who brought out the matches.”

Angel Dust walks up to you with Sir Pentious trailing behind him. You wave.Sir Pentious waves back, his hood flapping open.

“Mind if we join ya?” Angel Dust asks.

“Not at all,” Mimzy says. “I’m always weak to such lookers.”

Angel Dust takes the seat next to you and pushes back his hair. Sir Pentious takes the one behind him. “Sooooo, you two and Alastor run in the same circles.” He takes a drink. “And you guys are friends with him?”

You take a sip of your own drink. “You could describe it that way.”

“Well, those are your words, not mind, but I think it fits.” Mimzy glances at you, a knowing smile on her lips. “But our good doctor here is more than just—Hey! Why do you look so surprised?”

“Well, I just didn't know he had any of those. He's been here a while and is still a big, creepy mystery,” Angel Dust says. Sir Pentious nods, his head squeaking as he does “What's his deal?”

Mimzy is happy to explain tall, dark, and creepy’s ‘deal’ .

“But before that, he was the prime bachelor of my day,” Mimzy says. “Not a single lady wouldn’t want a taste of that twink. But eh . . . I wouldn’t wish marriage with Alastor on even my worst enemies. It would be a real shock when you die and find out your hubby’s got a real screw loose.”

“Well, it wasn’t a shock to me,” you say, rolling your eyes. You swirl your drink—hmmm, it’s good to know Husk still knows what you like.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” Mimzy chuckles nervously. She scoots closer, elbowing you lightly. “You happy he’s back? I still remember the few months you’d visit my place to look for your deerest, most darling Alastor, Mimzy at the bottom of a bottle.”

Your eyes twitch. “Quite pleased actually,” you say and force a smile. “It’s great to finally see my husband again.”

“ Husband? ” Angel Dust chokes on his drink.

Sir Pentious tilts his head and his hat slides off a bit. “Oh you’re married?”

You show them your ring, wiggling your finger. “Indeed.”

Sir Pentious puffs out his chest. “I would love to meet thisss husband of yours,” he says. “If you cannot be my rival, he can fight in your stead.”

“That wouldn’t be a smart idea

Mimzy stares at him. “He’s not the brightest is he?”

Angel Dust drops his drink with a clink. “ Pause ,” he splutters. “Shut u—” He coughs, still reeling from his drink going down the wrong pipe. “Shut up. Plause. Pause!”

Sir Pentious frowns, and his tongue sticks out. “No one elssseee is talking.”

“There is no way,” Angel Dust says. He turns to you, eyes bulging. “I refuse to believe that Freaky got hitched.”

Sir Pentious gapes, and his hoop opens. “Alastor is married as well?”

Mimzy slaps her forehead and points to you. “He’s married to her!”

“You are mess’in with me,” Angel Dust says. “Well, you can’t trick me. I refuse to believe it, toots.”

Mimzy takes a swig of her drink. “No one’s mes’in with ya,” she says with bright eyes. “They had a big white wedding and everything. I even got to bless them with my singing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Mimzy glares at Angel Dust, a hand on her hips and her noise in the air. “You calling me a liar?”

You place a hand on Mimzy’s shoulder. “It was a good day, wasn’t it?” you say.

“Could’ve been better without the rain,” she says shrugging.

The lights flicker. Static fills the air, making your skin buzz. The bar glows a faint green. “The rain made it sentimental actually,” you say and glance up the stairs. “We quite like the rain.”

Angel Dust crosses both sets of arms. “I thought you said you were friends.”

“ I said partners,” you tell him. “Alastor said friends.”

Angel Dust blinks at you and sighs. “So, you married him? Like you’re his wife.”

“I am, indeed!”

“Are you sure?”

“I sure hope so,” you say, crossing your legs. “It would be weird not to be sure considering I was there in a white dress, walking down the aisle.” Mimzy barks a laugh, and the feathers on her head sway. A part of you hopes she topples off the chair.

“Uh . . . Is this something we should know?” Angel Dust asks. “He’s not going to try to kill me because I learned about this right?”

“We’re not trying to hide it, but we don’t broadcast it either,” you say. “And well . . . no wife likes to be introduced as a ‘ friend ’.”

Sir Pentious’ tongue sticks out. “Does Alasssstor own your soul or something?”

You empty your drink and revel in the taste. “We got married back when we were alive.”

Angel Dust reaches across the bar, grabbing a whole bottle off the shelf with his long arms. He pops open the cork and takes a swig straight from the bottom. “I still have trouble belive you,” he says, squinting his eyes. “I just . . . I can’t!”

“Your belief, or lack of, won’t change the fact that I have a ring,” you say. “And it’s not really for you to believe, now is it?”

“Why . . . ?” Angel Dust’s mouth quirks into the cutest frown. “Why . . . ya’know?”

You sigh and place a hand on your cheek with a smile. “He makes me laugh.”

Angel Dust makes a face, and coils back like he’s been shot.

“Oh he’s a total kitten,” Mimzy says with a bright smile. She inches her glass closer to Angel Dust, and he fills it up for her. “Catch him in a good mood or pour him a drink and play some jazz and he’s totally harmless.”

“You still shouldn’t toss caution into the air, Mimzy” you say. “If I were you, I’d be wary about trusting Alastor just because he likes cleaning up your mess.”

Angel Dust crosses his arm, and his eyebrows quirk. “Ain’t he your hubby?” he says. “Isn’t there this whole spiel about trust and love and faith and all that other boring vanilla shit.”

“He wouldn’t be the Radio Demon if he could be trusted by just anyone, now would he?” you say. “It still crosses me when I remember how he lied to me.”

Angel Dust’s eyes shine. “You said no wife likes being introduced as a ‘ friend ’.”

“Yes?”

“It must have crossed you quite a lot, huh?”

You shrug, a bit confused. “I mean . . . I wasn’t really a big deal at the end of the day.”

Angel Dust’s smile widens and that golden tooth of his shimmer. “I want to know everything .”

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Despite the rain, clear skies show the moon, not a cloud in sight.

The flashlight clipped on your collar shines on your path. Your boots sink deep into the mud, but that’s alright. A few inches of goo won’t stop you from your destination. You adjust your leather medical bag—double checked that there are gloves inside.

Between those two trees, your treasure lies buried.

You lay your kit on some nearby stones and reach in for your gloves. You dig until bits of the cadaver’s skin stick out. You brush the soil of his chest and peel open the flaps of his skin. The underside of his skin has blood vessels attached to it. It was worth cutting out the fat to have a glimpse.

Superficial fascia connects his muscles to his dermis. You take your probe and disconnect the thin filament. It reminds you of spider-webs.

You discard your probe and exchange it for the bottle of formaldehyde. You can’t study the whole body, not when it’s exposed to the elements. His fingers are starting to rot, but that’s alright. The chest is all you need, for now. So, the chest is all you’ll preserve.

The cheesecloth you placed on him last night is still damp. Good, that means it’s been sanitized this whole time. You take the cheesecloth and wipe it against his open cavity, sanitizing every surface you can reach.

The formalin stings your nose and burns your eyes. It makes you cough, but you push through the pungent chemical.

You peel off the cheesecloth and use it to spread formalin into the deeper crevices between his skin and muscle.

Good. There are no maggots yet. It means you still have time.

You discard your gloves for a fresh pair and prepare your tools. You take your forceps and clip the scalpel blade onto the handle. You lay all your tools on a clean cloth for easy reach.

A human’s adipose tissue buildup is thicker than animals. This man’s fat is soft, easily squishable. Sadly, you’re not here to study his fat.

The scalpel blade is balanced perfectly. Throughout this Earth, no . . . not just Earth, but Heaven and Hell as well, nothing will ever be as perfect.

You slice through his adipose tissue, discarding it behind you, carving the cadaver until a nice rectangle opening forms. Muscles are grey, not like the red color printed on textbooks. You run your fingers along the smooth fibers of his pectorals. It’s slimy. That’s probably moisture mixing with the formaldehyde.

You quirk your shoulder to adjust the angle of your flashlight, still running your hand on his pectoral.

There, on the side of the chest where a muscle resembles a fan, do you find what you’re looking for.

Taking your probe, you define the muscle. You don’t use your scapple—never a scapple, because it could slice the fibers. You’ll scrape off the muscles later when it’s time to move on to the systems.

You take a pen and write your notes.

Muscle name: Serratus Ventralis. Description: The Serratus Ventralis appears to be a fan-shaped muscle, just like Hyman writes it to be. Although he’s not describing humans, I think it looks the same. Willd double check to see if such similarities are indeed correct. Just like the book says, I can see the muscle extending anteriorly and posteriorly from the scapula and to the walls of the thorax. The Serratus Ventralis appears to be divisible into anterior and posterior portions, with the anterior originating deeper into the body. (Will cut open if there is still time.) The posterior border seems to be where it originates from, and while it is buried by other muscles, I think it originates from somewhere between the ribs.

Origin, Insertion, Action: Origin: Textbook says it originates from the outer surfaces of the upper eight or nine ribs. (Will double check once I’ve moved on.) Insertion: The muscle fibers appear to move upward to the side. Inserts along the anterior surface of the medial border of the scapula Action: If it indeed is inserted from the scapula, this could mean that it could draw the scapula, forward, backward or against the body.

You flip to the previous page, and cross out Serratus ventralis. You move on to the muscle on your list: Xiphihumeralis. Based on the name, the muscle should pass through the xiphoid process to the sternu—

“Is this what you meant about my trash being your treasure?”

You startle, jumping back until a tree hits you and there’s nowhere else to escape. Run. Run. Run! Your heart screams at you, hammering in your chest. No one is supposed to be here. You’re supposed to be alone. You were careful—not careful enough, apparently.

Alastor emerges from the trees.

He waves at you when your gazes meet, but you don’t wave back. He’s smiling. “Hello,” he greets you with a gentle voice that strikes your core. It would be foolish to mistake his gentleness for kindness. “And yet again, I’m forced to comment on how you have such interesting hobbies.”

You press deeper into the tree, even if a knot digs into your back. “This . . . .” You pause, trying to find your voice. Do you run? “This isn’t a hobby. I’m merely studying.”

Alastor drops a bag on the ground. It looks heavy. “A man?”

“A cadaver,” you say, careful to keep your voice steady. You cannot let this man see any cracks. “They’re already dead, aren’t they? Wouldn’t it be a waste to let them rot like this? At least now, their sorry lives will be making a meaningful contribution.”

The admission of your crime was easy to say. You don’t want to know what that means about you.

Alastor laughs. It’s not that breathy and light laugh he had earlier. This one is lighter, more elated. “Please, tell me more.”

You harden your heart, searching for any speck of bravery. “Why would I?”

Alastor smiles until his teeth show. The moon makes his brown eyes glow—you did not think it would be such an attractive color. “I’m the one holding the large knife.”

You glance at his hand, and oh . . . that indeed is quite a large knife. It’s not even a kitchen knife, but a proper hunting blade meant to kill. “I see you’re resorting to threats,” you say and you don’t know why you do. It’s not really a smart idea. “I did not think you, a man, would feel the need to say such things to a woman.”

“That was barely a threat,” he says. “I’m just curious to know your motivation to dig up trash.”

“I’m studying—that’s my reason.”

Alastor waves the knife as he talks. “Are there no other dead bodies for you to prey on?” he says. “Don’t hospitals have an area specifically to keep the dead?”

“Only morticians or medical students are allowed access,” you say. “I am neither.”

“Why not become one then?”

“Women as doctors are still a relatively new phenomena,” you say. “There is not a single medical school in this area that will allow me to study, nor are there any that won’t bring me into debt.” Your blood boils and it replaces your thumping heart. It still beats in your chest, but it’s not because of fear. “I needed to find a way to learn, to study, and textbooks could only describe it in words. I want to see for myself.”

Alastor plays with the tip of the knife. “Sounds like a classic case of lusting for knowledge.”

“If lust is to be my sin,” you start and a wonky smile appears on your face, “pride would be yours. A classic case of judge, jury and executioner.”

“I do not need to explain myself to you.”

“Well, you are holding the larger knife,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. “Anything more you’d like to know?”

Alastor hums at you. “How did you figure it out?”

“A little bit of a suggestion?” you say, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. “You should buy suspicious items at different times and places. Your turn—How did you know I was here?”

“A little bit of a suggestion?” he echoes laughing like he’s told the funniest joke. “You shouldn’t have told me where you lived so easily. I thought I would have to hang around your clinic for a few days before I got your address.”

“I made sure to be careful.”

“You weren’t in the slightest,” he tells you. “Even an animal is harder to track. It was quite a surprise to see you heading in this direction.”

“Wait . . . ,” you say slowly. “Hang around the clinic? You . . . you were stalking me?”

“I wouldn’t say stalking,” he says, putting his arms up. “And if we’re pointing fingers, you would have had to follow me around for a few days to learn where I buried my trash.”

Your eyes drift to his bag, and then to his knife. Realization hits you like a cruel bus. You face heat. “You!”

“Me?”

“You lied to me!” you say, venom lacing your words as you puff. “You had no business in the area, nor did you randomly spot me! You followed to kill me, didn't you?”

Alastor smiles at you.

“Oh my God!” you scream at him, throwing your arms into the air. You point at him, glaring “You’re still going to kill me?”

“I can’t exactly let you leave, my dear,” he says, rolling his eyes. “What did you think?”

You stare down at him from your nose. “Don’t be so brainless,” you spit, crossing your arms. “If you would use this thing on your head called a, ‘brain’, and use it to think, you would be able to deduce that you’re currently not in cuffs.”

Alastor glares back at you, tightening his grip on the knife. You don’t give a single flying fuck.

“Since you are adamant on not using your brain, I shall do so for you,” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “If I wanted to rat you out to the coppers, wouldn’t I have done so already? Hmmmm?”

“Don’t speak to me as if I am a child.”

“I wouldn’t have to, if you aren’t thinking like one,” you say. “Why would I tattle on someone for giving me what I want.”

Alastor gives you a dry smile. “So much sarcasm to the person who does so.”

You cross your arms and lean against the tree. “I suppose I should be thanking you.”

”Will you?”

“No,” you say. “I don’t thank liars.”

You smile to yourself when Alastor rolls his eyes and furrows his brow. That strained smile of his is an extra bonus.

“If you’re going to kill me, be quick with it,” you say. “I’d like to die with my dignity as a lady.”

“How curious,” he says. “You’re not going to try and run? Fight me off in some clever way? Those are always the best kinds of hunts.”

You roll your eyes, making a point to show him that you are doing so. “That would be a waste of our time, wouldn’t it? And I think you’ll forgive me if I am not exactly keen on giving my murderer the satisfaction of experiencing ‘the best kinds of hunt’.”

Alastor laughs, breathy and light this time. He tosses the knife into the trees and puts his arms up as if surrendering. “It seems you have made me change my mind,” he says. “Not many are able to do so—especially not when I’ve settled on a hunt.”

“What an honor then,” you say, smiling dryly.

“Indeed, it is.” He takes a step forward, and when you don’t run, he walks to you and brushes stray dirt off your shoulders.

“Why change your mind?”

He smiles, inching closer to you. That is for me to know,” he says. “But, what I will say is I know potential when I see it.”

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“Someone, please, kill me again!” Angel Dust massages his forehead with one arm, using the other to empty the bottle. His third arm reaches into the bar shelves for a new one. You stare at his arms and wonder just how it got to be so long. “You’ve got to be shiting me right now. That’s your example? That’s your final answer?”

You pick at the wooden table, suddenly finding it hard to meet his eyes “Yes . . . ?”

Angel Dust chugs his bottle at your answer.

Mimzy avoids direct eye contact, choosing to study her empty glass.

Even Sir Pentious keeps his gaze locked to the floor. You bite on your cheek, letting out a soft huff.

If they didn’t want to know, they should not have asked.

“Out of all the misery he’s caused and will be causing,” Angel Dust says, “you think that Freaky ly’in to you about his reason for walking you home was the best possible example.”

“Yes?”

Angel Dust takes a deep breath. “Let’s be clear, okay? I’ll rephrase what I said, so listen closely,” he says. “Alastor lied about – and let me get this right—he lied to you about why he was in the area, and that’s why – hold on, bear with me – and that is why you were angry.”

You cross your arms, huffing a bit. “You make it sound stupid.”

Mimzy sighs, shaking her head with amusement. “That’s because it is, darling.”

“It is not!” you say, pouting. “It’s a very valid reason to be cross.”

Angel Dust takes another swig of his bottle. “It’s the fact that you weren’t angry that he was going to murder you in cold blood for me.”

You throw your arms into the air. “Okay, so it might not have been the best example,” you say, tapping your legs. “But that isn’t exactly my fault. Alastor is strangely honest.”

Angel Dust gapes at you. “No, he is not!”

“I don’t know, hun,” Mimzy says, leaning against the bar table. “Alastor kina is.”

“You won’t get the truth if you don’t ask,” you say, nodding your head. “And when you do ask, Alastor will either say the full horrifying truth, say it in a way that’s vague but still considered to be true, or dodge and not answer your question.”

Sir Pentious tilts his head, and he keeps a hand on his hat to keep it from falling. “And that is why we should not trust him?”

“There is no we , my dear,” you say. “That’s why you shouldn’t trust him.”

The hotel trembles.

You startle in your seat, gripping the table for stability. Mimzy clutches your arm, and you grab hers. It’s a small reassuring gesture that would make you smile at any other moment.

Someone pounds on the door.

You snap your head towards the entrance, nearly giving yourself whiplash. The hinges creak with every bang, and you watch with horror as the wooden frame begins to crack. Whatever wants to go in is determined to do so.

“ MIMZY! We know you’re in there, you lousy bitch!”

You lock eyes with Mimzy, glaring at her with bristled feathers. “Really?”

“Whooops . . . ?” she says with the most innocent smile. You grab your glass and throw it at her head. Mimzy snarls at you, searching for a stray bottle. She never finds it.

Glass rains down to the floor. Dust fills the space, and you cough when it irritates your throat. The whole hotel is in disarray. With a yelp, you jump away from the bar when one of the bone heads detaches and crushes your seat.

Mimzy scurries behind the bar.

A portal rips open in the middle of the room . . . Huh , that’s pretty cool. Vaggie steps out, Lucifer and Charlie behind her. “What is going on?”

Mimzy explains what she did. You roll your eyes when she does.

Fireballs shoot out the broken windows.

Motherfucker! You are going to kill Mimzy. You press against the wall to avoid Sir Pentious’ long tail from smacking into you as he slithers about. Angel Dust scurried away at the first sign of trouble. Of-fucking-course this happens today. Niffty scurries about, cleaning every debris in sight, You grab her by the collar, pulling her away from a stray fire. Niffty squirms out of your hold, and hops away. Another fireball keeps you from pursuing her.

“We’re under siege!” Sir Pentious exclaims, slithering about. “Take cover!”

Alastor pops out of your shadow, jerking your arm to pull you away.

You flap your arms to regain your balance.

Alastor keeps a steady hand on your shoulder, his hold on you firm. His touch keeps you grounded. Your eyes flutter to where you pressed against the wall, but Alastor pokes your cheek with the tips of your fingers, nudging your face to keep your eyes on him. The hotel burns in chaos, and you dig your fingers into the fabric of his coat.

Alastor holds your gaze. He smiles at you softly, but you see the hardness in his eyes and the tension is his jaw.

You try to give him your best smile. “Much better?”

“No, not in the slightest” he says, eyes squinting into a harsh glare. Alastor doesn’t frown, but his teeth bare into a snarl. “Are you hurt?”

The hotel trembles, and more fire crashes through the windows.

You try to turn to the chaos around you, but Alastor leans to the side, blocking the surroundings with his face. “I’d like an answer.”

He smoothes the feathers on your hair, and you lean into his hold, shaking your head. “Not a single feather out of place,” you say. “Thank you, my deerest.”

The hotel trembles once more, but you keep your gaze locked into Alastor’s.

“All of you get a safe distance,” Vaggie says, spear raised.” I’ll take care of this.”

Satisfied, Alastor drops his hand from your head and turns to the door. “No, my dear. Leave it to me.” Radio static warps the air around you. His eyes morph into radio dials. “It’s time I remind everyone why I am here.” He has the smile on his face—that same smile that tell you he’s on the hunt. It makes you buzz.

Mimzy pops her head out. “Ugh, finally!” she says, rolling her eyes. “Took you long enough.”

Tendrils shoot out of Alastor’s back and it waves around the air as if owning a mind of its own. His bones break with audible cracks to adjust to his expanding size. “A reminder to all, not to mess with the radio demon!” His teeth stick out when he smiles, and the little ‘x’ on his forehead appears.

Alastor laughs and begins his kill.

You rush out when your husband crawls out the broken doors, bolting from the bar and out the entrance. You watch Alastor. He grabs a shark with the tips of his fingers and uses the others to pull him apart, slowly, painfully , with a grin.

“Mimzy . . . ” you say, slowly.

Mimzy shrinks next to you. “ . . . Yeah?”

Alastor’s nails elongate and he pierces the shark, letting his blood trail down, reveling in his screams. “I really appreciate everything you do for me.”

A leg sails across the air, it’s bone sticking out. You smile to yourself as Alastor hunts down his prey. Blood paints the flowers red when his tendrils wag like a happy tail.

You’re faintly aware of Lucifer and Charlie arguing behind you.

The show is over too soon.

Alastor shrinks, twirls his microphone and stretches.

Mimzy runs, the first to approach Alastor. You don’t hear a word they’re saying, but Mimzy jabs her fingers into his coat. She leaves with a frown and a middle finger pointed at him.

You walk closer to your husband, a smile on your face. Alastor inches to you, bending close enough for you to reach his bowtie. The fabric is smooth against your fingers as your straighten it for him. “Much better?” you ask.

“Indeed.”

“You put up quite the show,” you tell him. “You looked absolutely riveting, my deer.”

Alastor’s smile widens, and he offers his arm, guiding you back into the hotel. “Did I?”

“You always do, my love.”

And oh . . .

Another song.

Lucifer leaves, taking his singing with him.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

As quietly as possible, you grab your belongings and check that nothing is missing: wallet, flip-phone, bus card, pieces of mint, various essential items, and lastly, your umbrella. You step out of what is left of the Hazbin Hotel’s front doors and stifle a yawn. Today’s excitement has gone on for too long. It was time to go home.

Drops of acid fall from the sky, a light drizzle forming. It was a good idea to stash that umbrella in your bag.

Alastor slithers out of your shadow, and covers your heads with an umbrella. “Did you happen to forget your umbrella?”

You force a sheepish smile on your lips. “I did, actually,” you lie to him. “But a walk seems rather lovely today.”

Alastor twirls the umbrella, his smile widening. “May I join you for your walk?”

“Are you not still working?” You glance behind you, observing the hotel.

Angel Dust sweeps glass off the carpet. He steals glances from time to time, trying his hardest to avoid looking in your direction—it doesn’t try hard enough. Your eyes meet, and you brush your stray feathers from your hair. A not so subtle way of showing off your ring. You stick out your tongue.

Angel Dust laughs, shaking his head with amusement.

Alastor adjusts the umbrella, angling it to block the prying eyes from inside the hotel. He raises his eyebrows, looking at you with a questionable glance.

You offer your most innocent smile. “I think they’re going to need a new door.”

“I think it’s time I clocked out,” he says, inching the umbrella closer. “I shouldn’t have them getting too dependent on me.”

“Are those not grounds for prime picking?”

“I wouldn’t exactly be a doting husband if I left my wife to walk alone in the rain,” Alastor tells you.

“ Doting husband ?”

He nods, leaning closer to you. “Yes. Was that not your condition for our marriage?”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Did I say that?”

“You did.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, humming a bit. “I do not remember saying that at all.”

“Well, it wasn’t for you to remember,” he says. “And in any case, I did not call you to the hotel to prepare for some party.”

“Then why did you call me here?”

Alastor meets your eyes and his smile widens. “Allow me to join you, and you shall find out.”

“You’ve piqued my interest, deerest,” you say. “The best walks are usually the ones that are shared. It doesn’t hurt that you have an umbrella.”

“What would you do without me?”

You roll your eyes, and take a step closer. “You always seem to remember for me.”

Alastor fiddles with the umbrella. “What did you do for several years—get pelted by acid?”

“You would know the answer to that had you been present for those years,” you say and you don’t fight the coy smile that forms on your lips.

Alastor hums in displeasure. “Well, in any case, I only have this one umbrella.”

“I guess we’ll have to share.”

“Yes, it seems we will.”

Alastor offers his arm, and you loop your own around his. He doesn’t need to take precautions to ensure your clothes stay dry nor do you have to for his own attire, not when you press closely against each other. The umbrella covers the both of you just right.

You rest your head on his arm. It’s nice. Warm. Even if it was as thick as a stick. His bones press into your cheek. Your eyes flutter into a close . . . just . . . one . . . second . . .

Your knees buckle causing you to trip.

A frim grab of your waist keeps you from the ground. Your nose crinkles when you collide with Alastor’s chest. Finding strength in your legs, you dig your foot into the ground and stand.

Alastor keeps his hold on your waist steady, and you don’t move from his hold.

“Before you say anything—you are not fine,” he says. “I don’t want to hear anything else but an agreement.”

You peel your face from his chest, meeting his eyes to give him the brightest smile you can muster. It doesn’t come out as you hope. “It seems . . . It seems it will be my turn to postpone our outing today,” you say. “The excitement of the day seems to be catching up to me.”

You fell asleep while walking,” he says. “If it was not for me, you would be on the pavement.”

“Then it is a good thing I am no longer alone.”

A single tendril emerges from his back. It wraps around the umbrella’s handle, keeping it secured over your heads.

Alastor’s hand shifts from your waist to your back. You feel his other arm snaking down your legs, trailing your skin until he reaches the back of your knees.

Alastor lifts you like a bride.

Well, you actually are a bride . . . his bride, specifically.

Alastor continues the walk, holding you in his arms. You lean into him, and he places a chin on your head. “Your pointy chin is poking me, my deerest,” you say but you don’t move to push him off. “It’s digging into my scalp.

His chest rise and fall as he laughs, and you feel every bit of it against your cheek. “I could always drop you right over this puddle.”

“That wouldn’t really be part of the doting husband image, would it?” you say chuckling into his suit.

“No, I guess it would not.”

Smiling to yourself, you nuzzle deeper into the crook of his neck. “Hey, Al,” you mumble softly, “tell me a story.”

At the corner of your eyes, you see Alastor glance at you. His gaze lasts a second before he turns back ahead. “It was 1929,” he says. “The beginning of the glorious Great Depression.”

You roll your eyes even if he doesn’t see it. “You are the only one I know who calls the Great Depression ‘ glorious’ . People were starving, and we almost got fired from our jobs.”

“That’s because it was a great year.”

“Because you got to see the sufferings of the masses?” You laugh softly. “That’s definitely something you would do. I can practically hear you laughing at the way they try to claw their way out of misery, only to fail spectacularly.”

“Because we got married that year,” he says. Even if you’re wearing a coat, and Alastor wears his gloves. Even with layers of cloth between your skin, you still feel the way Alastor caress your with his thumb. “Can I continue my story now or would you like to bicker about your failing memory?”

“Continue.”

“So, the start of the glorious Great Depression,” he says. “That day, I saw an ad for the local zoo. I wasn’t doing anything important, so I decided to support my local animals.”

“How kind of you,” you say, stifling a yawn.

“Indeed it was,” he says. “I stalk through the animals. Looking at every malnourished species they kept locked up—”

“You get to the alligator enclosure and to this day, swear that you saw it do a backflip,” you mumble softly, eyes dropping. “That’s pretty good for someone you claim to possess failing memories.”

“Alright then. I shall find another.” Alastor hums as he thinks, and his chest vibrates as he does. “Summer of 1916–long before I met you.”

“You don’t need to tell me that,” you say, huffing. “I’m well aware of the year we met, my deer. So, Summer of 1916?”

“It was a dark and stormy night. Weird for the summer seasons. Usually, the house becomes a furnace, but it was terribly cold,” Alastor tells you. “During that second night of the hurricane, a knock sounds from the door.”

“Oh . . . I’ve heard this as well.” You pick on the lapels of Alastor’s coat, tracing the white lines.

“You have?” Alastor raises his eyebrows

“Yes, it was your neighbor. His tree fell into the window and you and your mother ended up sheltering him for the night,” you say. “Then, you’ll tell me that he gifted you three pounts of cheese the next week.”

“I guess there’s nothing left to tell.”

You lean back to meet his eyes. They’re no longer brown. Once, a long time ago, you thought it was your favorite color. Now, you don’t think you’ve ever had a favorite color. You just liked his color. “Nonsense,” you says. “We are definitely not that old. I’m sure there should be be at least a few.”

“Alright, this one began fifteen years ago,” he says, tightening his grip on you. “I was waiting outside St. An’s, and a Sinner came out. It was my first time seeing a cow. It was quite a conundrum because — Oh, I think you’ve heard this already. Have you?”

Your eyelids are heavy. “I have.”

“And you choose not to inform me?”

“Can you tell it to me again?” You sink deeper into his hold.

“Of course, my love.”

Alastor’s steps lag until he comes to a full stop. He holds you in his gaze as the acid rain splatters grow stronger. It’s just you and him in this tiny bubble of an umbrella.

His eyes flicker, touching every inch of this scene. You do not know what he is thinking.

“Are you alright, my love?” you find yourself asking.

“Yes,” he says. “I’m just . . . trying not to waste, that’s all.”

“Come on,” you say in a voice that is oh so soft.

Alastor continues his story. You don’t hear the end of it.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Next Part: | Part 4: The Radio Stars' Co-host Just Wants To Do The Dishes| I am excited to know what you guys think about this chapter. My replies and inbox are always open for any questions. I always get so happy to see my notifications. It's a bit addicting actually. Thank you to everyone who has interacted with this story. Every like, reblog, and reply means so much to me. Part 4 will be poasted as soon as possible

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wasawattpadkid · 2 years ago

Text

Housewife

Part - 10

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating, mention of suicide,

Part 1

"Did Neil Prescott attack you with the ghostface costume on?"

"They've yet to close the case on the murders. Do you think Neil could've had a partner?"

"Was is hard watching your girlfriend die in front of you?"

The reporters spit inappropriate questions at Billy from the moment he stepped out of his car. He was more than happy that he got away with it but he found it a little annoying someone else was getting all the credit for his well executed plan. Billy threw his his backpack on barley missing the healing wound underneath his polo.

He passed by the reporters pushing some of them out of the way. Surprisingly no one bombarded him with questions when he entered first period. He heard whispers as he walked the halls. They didn't bother him at first. Billy lived through it, he got the front row seat most of them would kill to have. The boy kept his head down as he walked into his first period class. "It was Stu's house I know he had something to do with it." One of the boys said talking with his friends. Billy listened into the conversation. He was a nosey person by nature. "That doesn't mean he did it. I mean Sydney's dad was a wack job after his wife slept with half the town."

Billy nodded to himself. "I don't know something seems fishy with how close Stu and that new chick were." If you were close with anyone it was Billy. He was just careful about showing affection in public because shit like this happenes. People talk. "They were probably fucking and Tatum found out, everything went side ways." The group of three started laughing as the teacher shut the classroom door. Billy wasn't keen on hearing people talk about you or Stu but Stu had thick skin. Words never really bothered him much.

"You know we all would've died if Y/n didn't call the cops when she did." Billy snapped his tone a little too assertive. The class grew quiet everyone hearing what the boy had to say. Even the teacher was quiet not wanting to upset Billy more than he already was. "Class I know that these last few weeks have been traumatic for some more than others. However it would be beneficial to everyone if we continued on with our unit."

Billy went through the day with his keeping his eyes on the ground. He started to realize how hard it was to get through the day without Stu by his side going on and on about something he really didn't care about. The lunch bell rang and like clockwork all the kids flooded the hallway. For the most part Billy was completely ignored except for a few wide eyes stares in the hallway. For a second he forgot about what he had done. He saw the fountain being occupied by two girls. The freshman girls looked at Billy like he was a celebrity. "Oh my god Billy Loomis. I didn't think you'd come back so soon. Are you okay?" The blonde student rambled on stumbling over her words.

"Move." He was a man of few words. "I'm sorry about Syd- wait what?" She asked as her friend started picking her things up. "Are you deaf or something? Get out of my fucking spot." The girls hurried to grab their things. "This is where we sit everyday are you fucking blind?" He yelled causing people around to stare at the scene. "I-I'm s-sorry..." The kid stuttered scared of the boy in front of her. "Duh- duh- duh- get the fuck out of here." Billy spat nearly making the girl cry. Silently her friend grabbed her hand pulling her towards the building.

He could feel the eyes of those around him tearing into his slim frame. Billy sat on the concrete slab where he always did. No Sydney, no Tatum, no Randy, no Stu, and no you. His peers just watched the boy have a mental breakdown. It was lonely being alive. It wasn't the lack of people that was upsetting, it was the quiet. Running a hand through his messy hair he jumped up. "Fuck this."

You had never felt so good on a Monday. Your wound barley hurt with a little help from the pain killers. "Elvis really?" Stu questioned as you pulled the record out of it's sleeve. "You're not an American if you don't like Elvis." He pulled his lips into a straight line. "Consider me Canadian." Your rolled your eyes sitting the needle down. "Did you know he came in his pants during one performance?" Stu crinkled his nose at the unwante information. "That is fucking disgusting. Tell me more." You laughed laying on your bed next to him.

Billy blasted his radio choosing to listen to the burnt CD Stu made him a few weeks ago. Sad whiney alternative rock seeped through the speakers. It did nothing to help his mood but he wanted to sit and wallow in his self pity for just a little longer. It wasn't a very long drive to your house which saved him gas. If he had to guess you were probably laid up in pain waiting for someone to come and help you. And if you weren't going to answer his calls he'd do the chivalrous thing by showing up unannounced.

You held your sides as Stu danced around doing his best Elvis impression. "Stop it's so bad." You cried with laughter barley able to get the words out. You heard a faint noise downstairs grabbing your attention. "Wait, shh do you hear that?" Stu pipped down letting you concentrate. "Somebody's at the door." You rolled off the bed heading down the steps. "I'm going to pick the next record." Stu called from the bedroom. Making sure you looked presentable you opened the door. Billy looked up at you a smile playing at his lips for the first time in what felt like forever. "Hey." He said as you stared in shock. Your heart raced and you felt sick.

"Jeez don't get too excited." The visitor rubbed the back of his neck trying to ease his slowly building nerves. It was obvious to him you weren't as happy about seeing him as he was you. To him you were a breath of fresh air but that was because he was stealing yours. "Y/n please talk to me." He pleaded making you snap out of the trance you were in. "Go away." You thought it'd come out as a scream but it barley qualified as a whisper. Billy caught the door as it was closing. "You can't just tell me you're in love with me and then disappear." He walked into the house as if he owned it. You couldn't help but laugh dryly.

"That's what you got out of everything thing that happened Monday?" He raised an eyebrow unsure of what he was missing. "What else was I supposed to get? You literally pointed at gun at me saying you did all this for me because you loved me." You slammed your front door causing Stu to jump upstairs. "I was going to kill you." You said plainly done with the chit chat. "Excuse me?" You walked to the kitchen grabbing a drink from the fridge. "You heard me. When I saw that article and saw your smug face all I could see was red." Billy took a seat on your couch deciding to take his shoes off as if he was staying longer.

"I did love you, you're right but that was years ago. For a second there you had me fooled I'll give you that. My original plan was to get close to you and then kill you. Simple as that. Stu made that hard considering you were two attached at the hip." You refrained from making a joke you knew the boy upstairs would appreciate. "Why didn't you just kill him too?" With the look you gave him he knew that wasn't a good question. You took a swig of soda setting the glass bottle down on the counter. "It might be a shocker for a heartless bastard like you but I don't just run around killing people that inconvenience me."

Billy was actually kind of hurt by the comment. "I found out you two were planning to murder a group of kids so I sat and waited for you two to get yourselves put in prison or better yet you'd kill yourself." Billy swallowed what little spit he had left in his mouth. He was uncomfortable. "I'm not stupid, I knew you were going to kill him. He was simply collateral to you. That's what really pissed me off. You hadn't changed at all. I couldn't kill you now because he loved you and I couldn't bring myself to hurt him. Does he know?"

Stu sat upstairs knees to his chest as he tried not to cry. He was dumb he knew that but he was okay with it. He didn't think he was think oblivious though. All he was to Billy was a disposable accomplice. Something he could throw away once he was done using him.

"I wasn't going to kill him. We were going to run away together." You laughed shaking your head in disbelief. "Watch out Loomis, you're starting to sound as delusional as me." The whole scene really played out like two parents in the midst of a divorce. "Why'd you come here?" The defeated sound in your voice made Billy regret his decision in coming here. "I wanted to see you." He muttered. "Well you've seen me." You held out your hands making sure he could get a good luck before he left.

"I love you." Billy looked up at you making sure your eyes met when you heard the words. You hated the way he could easily manipulate you. Maybe it was because you wanted him to. You enjoyed how the lies made you feel so you chose to believe them. "If you think that's what I want to hear it's not. Love bombing is a big red flag you know?" Billy slammed his fist on the couch arm in frustration. "What the hell do you want to hear then?" You pinched the bridge of your nose. "I can't explain every little thing to you Billy. It's not my responsibility to teach you how to be a decent human being. I just need time. We both do. If you still feel the same way next week we can talk okay?"

Billy bit his lip till it started to bleed. "Okay." He was yet again defeated by you. You weren't keeping score but he certainly was. "If I call will you at least answer? Please." The idea wasn't bad but you knew it was only a matter of time till this sense of clarity wore off. You'd take him back in a heartbeat because you're the same easily impressed girl you've always been.

"I'll think about it." You'd kiss him right now if he as much implied the idea. One whimper from him and you've would've started making the bastard a sandwich. "Thank you." He said as he put he shoes back on. "How are you?" It was a question you thought he didn't care enough to ask. "I'm feeling better. Thank you for asking. How are you doing?" Billy's wound didn't even bother him at this point it was his mental state that was in decline. "I miss you and Stu." That wasn't an answer to your question but you proceeded with caution.

"I'll be back to school next week. Why don't you stay home this week too? School is not exactly the best idea for us right now." All things considered that is. You didn't understand how much Billy despised his "home." Since his mother left him his house became a prison. A padded cell would be cozier. "I would rather go to school all day than go home." You felt for him but that's as far as your sympathy went. Slowly he stood up waiting for anything to keep him here a bit longer.

"I'll see you Monday, Billy." You walked over to him ready to open up the front door. Swallowing his pride he wrapped his arms around you burying his face in your neck. The strangely intimate act was not in Billy's character. "I'm sorry." He whispered to himself more than you. You weren't even sure if he knew he said it. Your arms wrapped around his back and he let you just hold him for a second. If this was some sort of manipulation tactic he was better than you thought. Billy cleared his throat as he pulled away.

"I guess I'll see you Monday." You nodded not trusting your voice. "Call me if you need anything." Billy added as he walked outside heading towards his car. "Bye." Your voice cracked and you quickly shut the door locking it. Instead of sliding down the door like they do in the movies you laid face down on the couch. Screaming you lungs out into the throw pillow seemed to attract the attention of the boy upstairs. "You okay Betty Crocker?" Stu said almost jumping down the stairs. "You want to go cliff diving?" You asked as you carefully rolled off into the floor.

Stu joined you on the carpet. "Can we drive off the cliff Thelma and Louise style?" You smiled cuddling up into his side. "Absolutely." You wanted to ask if he heard your discussion but with how red his face was you assumed he already knew. "Is Y/n your real name?" There was a calming sincerity to his voice. "I wouldn't lie about that. Well actually that's a lie, yes I would." He laughed covering his eyes with his arm. "But no I'm not lying about that. I've got my birth certificate somewhere around here or I could just give you my social security number." You smiled up at him. "That works too."

Stu played records as you and him cleaned the kitchen. He felt betrayed by his best friend and he desperately needed the break. Stu would forgive Billy eventually, he always did. He knew you'd forgive him too if you hadn't already. That's just what Billy did. Ignorance is bliss, Stu learned that a long time ago. In the meantime, Stu was busy playing house with you.

(if your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you)

Part 11

Taglist: @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @lovekeeho @tojisblood @zeysartzone @bluedevilss @life-of-music3 @flyestvenustrap @littleblondesoprano @imobsessedreader @loomiscorpse @nicciekawegosblog @reneemunson @miss-puregotti @ksgsfsgaj @zoleea-exultant @briefwinnerpersonaturtle @mistydreamscape @l4venderia @nex-crowley @ashreblogsnow @brynaa223 @your-desire666 @billyloomiswhore4 @holyladyofsorrows @megluv1 @ellieswifeiya @yoluvrz @forallthstarsinthesky @madsothree @youcantbesirius @lubunnii @captainhowdysseptum

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blackynsupremacy · 1 month ago

Text

THERE’S SOMETHING

ABOUT YOU.

CHAPTER 1

pairing: smallville!clark kent x blackfem!oc

fandom: smallville (2001-2011)

guest starring: aaliyah haughton as lyric james

summary: ever since lana lang has moved in with the sullivan’s, clark kent’s nightly telescopic views of the galaxy and daily glimpse of the sunrise tend to get lonelier. that is until a moving truck, a wandering amicable feline, and her frustrated owner, lyric james, makes her debut in his life as her family are the new owners of the old potter house next door. things between the new neighbors start to shift as clark is tasked as her personal tour guide at her new school. one little slip is all it takes for her to learn he’s more than meets the eye in this small town.

contains: lots of words,neighbors to friends, slow burn, martha lowkey being the hookup, snarky teens, some swearing, fluff, friendly banter, a bit of angst. lyric’s thoughts. clark’s thoughts.

taglist: @afrowrites @afrogirl3005 @rosiestalez @sabrinasopposite @tryingtograspctrl @ellethespaceunicorn @jkr820 @simply-the-best23 @zombiehe4rt

next: CHAPTER 2

it was around 8:30 PM on a friday night as clark kent gazed at the stars through his telescope in his “fortress of solitude”. it was just his loft in the barn, but he never forgot how lana lang coined that term for this sacred space of his. lana was known as the typical girl-next-door and the cheerleader dating the captain of smallville high’s football team, whitney fordman, and clark’s first love. well—it’s crazy how things can change so rapidly. lana quit cheerleading to own the talon, whitney was killed while following in his late father’s footsteps to serve this country, and she wasn’t the girl-next-door anymore. she had to move in with one of clark’s best friends, chloe sullivan and her father, gabe because her aunt nell’s new husband wanted to move the family out of smallville, but lana refused to leave it all behind. one thing that didn’t change was clark’s love and admiration towards the girl.

the loft wasn’t just his space where he’d go to think or look into space. he also shared it with her. whether it’d be using the telescope to admire her from afar, having late night talks, or watching the sunrise together. you’d think with this much time spent with someone, clark would finally have the gusto to officially ask lana out. he has tried, but between the obstacles of figuring out his heritage, keeping his abilities a secret, not wanting to hurt others feelings, and his cowardice of opening up to his loved ones, his chances with her all went to hell.

lana’s tasks at the talon were getting busier by the day and she still had her load of class work to tend to, so her visits to the loft for sunrises or meaningful conversations weren’t as frequent. it’s been getting quite lonely here. a deep sigh escapes from clark’s chest as he takes a step back from the telescope, both hands tucked within his pockets. his blue eyes peer at the dark sky that was softly lit with luminous stars that goes beyond this planet he’s come to know and love. his longing for the answers concerning his heritage grow stronger and impatient as his thoughts trail back to the aircraft that’s hiding in the cellar. he wished that this burden wouldn’t have to be so much. he understood that his parents, jonathan and martha, didn’t want to lose their miracle child if he found out where he came from or if the world knew of his powers, they would experiment, exploit, or worse, treat him like an outcast. it’s already hard enough on clark that his best friend, pete ross, knew. they’ve worked it out once he’s sworn his secrecy to the kents and their friendship seemed to be stable, but deep down he knew that pete would never really get used to that. clark just wanted someone—no, anyone to understand his intentions. whether they’re a human or not. why did i have to come down to this planet? what happened on my planet that was so bad that i literally crashed into the quiet lives of this town? why—

clark’s train of thoughts came to a halt and his heightened sense of hearing caught the sound of revving engines and purring wheels coming into the direction of the neighborhood, but not directly to his home. both of the vehicles make a stop and park at their destination. one of the vehicles is a u-haul moving truck the other, resembling what might be a white honda civic. this stop wasn’t an ordinary stop either. it seemed that the destination was—the old potter house. was it possible that nell had changed her mind? did lana know about this? could things go back to the way they were? clark had to pause for a second because he didn’t recognize the car at first, so he looks back into the telescope to investigate further.

it was pitch dark outside to see who exactly were operating the vehicles, so clark knew what he had to do to find out. his eyes focused on the closely on the u-haul, he could clearly see the boxes and luggage near the rear end before his x-ray vision travels towards the front. in the driver’s seat, he could see the outline of a human skeletal figure, stretching their arm muscles and reaching for the seatbelt. his pupils shifted to the car parked behind the truck. there were three figures this time. one sitting in the drivers side, the other in the passenger with their head leaning against the window, and third that seemed to be curling up on the passengers lap which clark assumed to be a pet. the driver taps the passenger’s shoulder to signal them to wake up before they open the doors.

with the low quantity of streetlights near kent farm, it was still difficult to see clearly, but clark was positive he saw three different silhouettes with three different voices as he watched them exit the vehicles. the tallest silhouette was definitely an older male with a deep voice muttering as he made his way to the front door before fishing the key out of his pocket to gain access to the house.

“come on now, girls! this house won’t be moved in by itself. let’s at least get what we need for the night and start fresh in the morning, alright?” he commands before stepping into the house. the next silhouette was slightly shorter than the first and the soft, alto voice was of an older female followed by the final silhouette who had a similar voice to hers, but it definitely sounds like a person of around clark’s age. she appears to be holding a bundle tucked securely in her arms. her own sigh resonates in the night air, her posture deflating with exhaustion.

“man, if i have to move another muscle, i swear i’ma fall apart.” the youngest of the three groggily protested as she dragged her feet forward.

“your father’s right! the faster we get things done, the faster we can go to bed, get some rest and greet our new neighbors in the morning. i’d suggest you put that cat down somewhere and pick up those feet, young lady. we don’t have time for all that whining, now.” the older female firmly responds as she beckons the younger to follow her into the house.

“yes, mama. just—let me put the princess in my room and i’ll be right down with ya’ll. god knows i’m beat.” all three figures trudge their way into the now lit house and close the door.

clark lets the conversation cut there before he takes some paces away from telescope.

it looks like we’re getting new neighbors. i’ll make sure to tell mom and dad in the morning.

he turned off the light switch before descending down the stairs to retire for the night.

lyric james huffs out in relief as her spine finally makes contact with her lavender comforter set delicately draped over the air soft mattress of her new bed, in her new room, of her new house, and in a new town. the bare walls were illuminated with the amber glow of the ivory bedside lamp she recently installed. her closet was about a quarter full and the drawers had the essentials like undergarments and socks, but there were two things she couldn’t live without for one night: grandad’s record player and noir. speaking of noir, lyric could hear the soft patter of paws treading on the hardwood floors and an audible mew of the feline. she got the strength to lift herself upright to look down and find noir staring back at the girl with those large round, yellow-green eyes and her fuzzy,black tail swaying across the floor as if she were waiting for her owner to carry her as she did before they stepped into the new house.

lyric chuckled at her cat, shaking her head. although it was a tired smile, her dimples made a prominent appearance within her toffee skin. “girl, i know i got you spoiled rotten—can’t even get up on the bed without needing an escort.” she reached her arms below to scoop noir up into her bed before laying vertically with her head against her plush pillows and a fair number of stuffed animals. lyric adjusted, so that one hand was underneath the white, paisley bandana wrapped to protect her hair and the other, tenderly stroking noir’s dark coat of fur as the cat nuzzled on her torso. her brown eyes shifted to see the red glowing digits of the time set on her alarm clock. 10:30. i really need to sleep, so i can move all of that junk tomorrow. thank god it’ll be a saturday. her chest raised slowly to deflate as she sat alone with her thoughts. i miss new york already. what’s so interesting about this itty, bitty hill billy town anyway? what does a place like smallville have to offer?

let’s rewind that real quick. lyric james was a born and (formerly) raised native from new york. she’s currently a sophomore with a love for old vinyl records, talking junk, eating sweets, going out with friends (well the ones she had back home), impulsive shopping, and documenting core memories with her digital camera.

her voice was soft as rain and calm as her mother’s, one might say a sound like a voice of reason, but one shouldn’t get that confused with her being a pushover. when it comes to meeting new people, she’s not shy per say, but before opening up she needs to observe certain people. observe of how they speak, their body language, and just how they are as a person in general. if the vibe’s good, that’s what’s up! she’ll crack jokes, speak in fluent sarcasm, and maybe a bit of flirting when she gets the balls. if not, she’ll be cordial and respectfully keep her distance. she’s had moments of naivety in the past when it came to friendships causing her to get burned, but hey— she lived and she learned. that was her just her outlook on life: to live until you die. she was only a teenager, so she’s expected to screw up every once in a while, but when it came to having that common sense her parents instilled in her during childhood, she knows where the line should never be crossed.

her parents, crystal and joseph james, were suitable guardians and they supported lyric as well as nurtured her to be a well mannered young woman, but one thing that got her tight was their demanding work schedules. joseph worked as a firefighter and crystal, an er nurse. don’t get her wrong, she loved that her parents saved lives for the love of it and kept their lives afloat financially, but it also made lyric anxious. as an only child, she’s been with her parents for so long and she couldn’t imagine if something happened to one or both of them. hence why she had a curfew, even back in her hometown to make sure she’s home and near the phone just in case. the main reason why her parents decided to move to smallville was that it was safe. it wasn’t like smallville didn’t have crime going on, but it wasn’t as bad as new york. crystal and joseph knew that their daughter was left alone most of the time and they’d allowed for her to go out with friends and come back at a certain time, but the risk was too high for them to stay ever since—omar. fortunately, they had some colleagues recommend that smallville had some opening positions for their professions and that’s how they got here to get away from their past.

lyric felt her eyelids drooping lower as a yawn escaped from her mouth and reached over to the lamp switch to cease the glow in her room. careful not to wake noir, she shifted her body as carefully as she could to conceal herself under the sheets. she turned on her side, her knees curling up slightly in a fetal position as her bare feet rubbed against each other. her arms wrapped loosely around noir. the sounds of the feline’s low snores were enough to send lyric into a peaceful, calm slumber.

the rising sun of saturday crept in at around 7:15 AM. clark was used to being up this early. that’s farm life, but this was part of his daily routine to wake up, get dressed, and head to the loft to watch nature simply take its course. as he leaned his elbows against the window sill, his eyes of blue soaked up the harmonious mixture of the sky’s color palette of lavender, pink, tangerine, and gold. the clouds resembled the fluffiness of the cotton candy that was served at the fall festival every year. it was silent, but the wind hummed as it lightly tickled clark’s face and fanned his raven tresses with a breeze so gentle at just the right the temperature that he couldn’t help, but to close his eyes and inhale the morning within his lungs. he was sure this weekend was going to be the same: do some chores, hang out with his friends at the talon, run into lex luthor, or maybe fight off people who’ve been poisoned by those cursed green rocks like he’s some sort of superboy. you know, the usual. clark then had that sinking feeling within his stomach and that tiny weight of heaviness in his chest with visions of her.

i really wish lana was here. maybe she’d find some time to at least catch the end of this.

his eyes then traveled back to the house next door. the two vehicles and the “SOLD” sign out in the front yard confirmed to clark that the kents having new neighbors wasn’t a fever dream like he’d hoped. he didn’t really get to see the family clearly, but he remembered a father, a mother, and perhaps a daughter with a pet of some kind. he pondered on the details of where they came from, what they looked like, what were their personalities, and most importantly, were they prepared for what kind of town they’ve moved to given its bizarre history? well—clark, felt he was to blame for the bizarre part, but his parents reassured there was nothing no one could do to prevent it.

after the sun took its rightful place in the heavens, clark decided it was time to get a head start on his chores for the day. that was until he felt something nuzzle itself against his ankle and his ears picking up on the soft mewling sound that filled the silence of the loft. well—that’s new… he thought knowing that it was the norm for animals to be on the farm, but not this one. clark peered down to find two wide eyes of yellow-green that reminded him of the glow of a firefly in the darkness of july. they were attached to a tiny, furry head with a pink button nose, whiskers, and pointed ears all surrounded by onyx fur. one of clark’s brows raised and a grin curved on his lips as the feline continued to wrap around his or her tail around his leg some more. with blended knees, he squatted down low enough to meet the cat’s level to slowly, but gently reach his hand towards the nose first, so the cat could detect clark’s scent properly before giving him the green light to go any further. a dark paw stretches to lightly touch his hand before leaning a fluffy cheek in forward to nuzzle clark’s knuckles, indicating that he can proceed with his touch. clark couldn’t help, but to smile before taking both hands to enthusiastically pet this friendly little, black cat’s face.

“now, i wonder how you got yourself in here, huh? your owner must be pretty worried—“ he paused to check to see if the cat had a collar of any kind in which he came up short. geez, he at least wanted to know the feline’s gender without catching them off guard by picking them up. as if the cat read his mind, they rolled over on the hardwood floor to reveal the underside of their body. after a quick observation, clark figured out this feline was a female before she rolled over again to her original position on her belly.

“don’t worry, girl. you can stay up here until your owner comes back. for now, i’ll take care of you.” he simpered as his palm soothingly descended down the cat’s spine. noir couldn’t help, but to respond to this boy’s touch by filling the room with a satisfied purr as if she were in paradise. clark sighed with content before he realized that he now has to let his folks know about the new visitor. he ceases his petting and his tenor voice softly urges, “i’ll be right back, girl. you stay right here, okay? if you’re good, i’ll come back with a little treat for you. how does that sound?” he coaxed. she responds by mewling and laying on her stomach, tail swaying back and forth across the floor as she watches clark walk away and descend down the stairs of the barn and out to his home to find his parents conversing at the breakfast table in their kitchen. his father was sitting at the table reading the newspaper while his mother was preparing breakfast.

“morning dad! morning mom!” he hurriedly greeted his parents, jogging to the cabinet to retrieve a plastic bowl and the refrigerator, for some fresh milk.

“mornin’, son!” jonathan responds, his eyes still skimming the headlines. martha repeats the phrase back to her son, her eyes glancing up to see to him getting the items needed for cereal, but no spoon nor cereal. martha squints in curiosity as her mother’s intuition urges her to ask clark what he’s up to.

“hey, clark, if you want breakfast, i’m putting something together. are sure you just want cereal, dear?” she questions.

“nah, mom. i’m good just…uh, getting started with my chores. hey, did you know that a new family moved into nell and lana’s old house? i saw the truck come in late last night while i was in the loft. you guys were sleeping by then, but i didn’t want to wake you.” clark spoke, pouring the right amount of milk in the bowl and putting the carton back in the fridge. he didn’t instantly want to stall on the fact of the feline, but he definitely wanted keep his parents in the loop of their new neighbors first.

martha’s face responds in awe, her head nodding with a smile on her lips as she resumes to cooking and jonathan lowers the paper to get a better insight on the topic of the discussion.

“ah, right! i noticed the truck still parked when i looked out the window this morning. at first i thought nell had changed her mind for lana’s sake, but i saw a different man walk to his car. either way, it’s exciting to see some fresh, new faces around smallville, right jonathan?” martha inquired to include her husband. jonathan nodded in agreement,

“oh, yeah. they’re likely a friendly, hardworking family with good old fashioned values that happen to live right next to another average family: a farmer, his wife, and their herculean son with the strength of 2,000 men!” jonathan wise cracked, earning some laughter from his family.

clark’s infectious smile crept on his lips before he takes the bowl off the counter, careful not to spill it.

“very funny, dad! in the case of meeting fresh faces, the new ones i’ve met so far are covered in fur and whiskers. i was out at the loft just now and this black cat just snuck in.”

“oh, a cat? so that explains the bowl with no cereal. well, do you think it’s just a stray?” martha questioned, wiping her hands clean with a plaid, hand towel.

“where’s the cat now?” jonathan chimed in.

“ah—not really, she’s actually very friendly. i’ve tried to look for a collar, but she didn’t have one. look, i’m not saying i’m keeping her, but i think someone would be coming for her soon. she should still be waiting in the loft. until then, i want her to be taken care of before they come.” clark utters, gesturing to the bowl in his hand.

“that’s sweet of you, clark! i’m sure they would appreciate that. oh! just milk won’t do, sweetie. let me see if we have a can of tuna in here somewhere.” martha inwardly beamed as she turned to rummage through the pantry to retrieve a can of tuna. as she fetched a can opener, spoon, and a bowl, her heart couldn’t help to swell at her son’s benevolence. his desire to care for all species on a foreign planet made her feel more content of what happened in the fall of ‘89. sure there was some destruction, trauma, and long lasting negative outcomes, but clark would never fit in those categories. out of the can she scooped the meat into a bowl and handed it to clark.

“thanks, mom! i’ve learned from the best, you know.” he leant down to tenderly kiss the auburn head of his mother and made his journey outside to fulfill his promise to the amicable fur ball that was still waiting on her treat. once inside, he places the two bowls in front of her and it wasn’t a second later before she indulged in the food and drink.

little does this sneaky kitty know that her owner is about to cross paths with smallville’s main attraction.

lyric’s grogginess was short lived after waking up to find noir missing. she quickly sat up to look underneath the comforter to see if the onyx feline was at the foot of the bed. lyric knew that noir liked to sneak away and hide in other places of their old house, so what makes her think noir wouldn’t give this house a test drive for that same purpose? lyric moved the comforter to free herself and swung her feet to the side of the bed. she rubbed the sleep from eyes to get a clearer vision in order to see the red digits on her clock. it was approximately 8:00 am. as soon as the bare soles of her feet touched the floor, her knees followed suit to search under the bed.

“noir?” she called as her brown eyes searched and her head moved from left to right and vice versa, but noir was nowhere in sight. feeling a tad irked with her pet’s usual shenanigans, a huff erupted from her chest and her brows furrowed. lyric stood up to her feet and made her way to the closet only to find just her clothes on the hangers, no noir. lyric checked all the usual places upstairs where she would hide. bathroom? no. linen closet? nah. the den? negative. not even her own parents room provided lyric with the answer she desired.

“now, where the hell could she be?” she muttered lowly to herself under her breath. lyric knew better for her parents not to hear any type of profanity slip from her mouth. her ass would be grass, but so would noir’s if she didn’t pop her fuzzy head out in the next few minutes.

she was such in a tizzy trying to find her cat that she didn’t notice her mother, crystal, calling out for her from downstairs. lyric brought herself back to earth before she made her way down the steps and into the kitchen where she found crystal to be unpacking an open cardboard box and placing dishes, bowls, and cups in their respective cabinets. each item making a clanging sound as they were maneuvered out of the box.

“good morning, mama! where’s dad?” lyric hastily greeted and questioned as she also noticed the absence of her father. her doe eyes perused areas such as the floor, near the refrigerator, and under the tables. damnit, no such luck.

“good morning, honey! your father’s out at the station to settle some final paperwork before monday and running some errands for the house, but he should be back in time soon. we still have so much unpacking to do and meet our new neighbors, so get a move on to get dressed!

“hold up, don’t the ones living here already usually come to meet the new ones?” lyric’s nails reached to scratch her scalp as she raised her arched brow, piqued by the statement.

“yes, usually, but the unusual doesn’t always do harm.” crystal responded to her daughter before she turned around to see her still clad in her nightly attire. lyric hastily nods, her thoughts still running laps around her head.

“you sound like you’re in a rush. what’s wrong, baby?” she placed the items she was unpacking on the counter before she approached lyric.

“ma, have you seen noir? i’ve checked her usual spots and i can’t find her nowhere. i know she likes to sneak out my room every once and a while, but she stays in the house hiding and i keep coming up short— you’ve been down here for a minute, so maybe you’ve seen her tryin’ to get somethin’ to eat?”

“mmm—no. i’m sorry, i haven’t. it don’t help that we barely got any food to start with, my guess is noir went to search somewhere else for that. one thing about her, if she can’t get food here, she’ll get it somewhere else and you know how greedy she is the way you got her spoiled.” crystal chuckled as she heard lyric sigh out a defeated “if that ain’t the truth.” even though noir can be a handful, she adored her due to antics like this because let’s be real, a girl’s gotta eat!

“i just hope you remembered to put that collar back on her neck when we got here.”

lyric froze. her lips tighten as her eyes shut, inhaling and huffing out a breath of deeper frustration with herself before she realized that she didn’t put noir’s collar on when they settled in last night. she was so worn out from going back and forth to move in her essentials to her room, that it slipped her mind completely. now, she knows noir likes to wander a bit, but damn it! she never expected that cat to venture out in a whole new area. crystal took lyric’s silence and that pout on her face as a signal of negligence to complete the task, but she understood that it was late and the whole james family were even dead tired to get the rest of what they needed. a sympathetic smile rose on her full lips and her palms find their way to reassuringly massage the tensed muscles of her daughter’s shoulders.

“don’t worry. you know noir always finds her way back home, she wouldn’t dream of getting into some trouble without you, especially not too far away, so she may be closer than you think. now, i bet you’ll do the right thing and put that collar on as soon as you get her back?” crystal inquired with a playful tone, so lyric’s pout transformed to a lopsided grin, the dimples she inherited from her mother protruding as she giggled. in return for her mother’s wisdom, lyric pulled her into a bear hug and rested her chin on shoulder. this reminded her of the moments in her childhood when crystal would console lyric, whether she was taking her accountable or not.

“yes, ma’am—and i’m sorry for not handling my business. it won’t happen again, i swear.” she murmured near crystal’s ear and pulled back to face her again.

“you live and you learn. i’ll tell you this, instead of looking around in the house, how about going outside? you might find what you’re looking for. you can worry about unpacking the rest of your things later.” after giving lyric her cue to get started, crystal’s kissed her daughter’s cheek and ceased the embrace before finally disposing of the box that was emptied of its contents.

departing with a smile and nod, lyric rushed upstairs to her bedroom and opened the closet door to locate a presentable outfit that was not too laid back nor over the top, but something that was comfortable and fashionable enough to locate the missing noir. no matter what the occasion may be, lyric wasn’t gonna be too flashy nor look like she just rolled out of bed! she settled for an aqua blue top that was slightly cropped at the bottom to expose a bit of her abdomen with a mural of a geisha patterned with black, white, gold, and salmon. she paired this one pop of color with black cargo pants, black bomber jacket, and a classic pair of black chuck taylor’s. she placed the ensemble on the bed and left her bedroom to perform her hygienic ritual in the bathroom before returning to don her outfit for the day. lyric removed her scarf and adjusted her dark, long, natural hair to her liking with the heat of her straightening iron, the stroke her detangling brush, and the spritz of the heat protection spray to ease the guilt of damage. there was no harm in the addition of her signature eyeliner, mascara, and lastly—the brown lip liner and gloss combo painted on her full lips that were the icing on the cake of her everyday look. as for accessories, her ears were adorned with the cherished pair of golden hoops she was gifted for her 13th birthday, and the simple, black crossbody satchel that was her go to for whatever she needed for any journey.

“alright, ma. i’m going out to get your fast tail granddaughter back home!” lyric’s voice echoed out after jogging downstairs to wait by the front door to her crystal respond, “okay, honey! be safe and i love you. don’t stay out too long, now.” lyric reciprocates the farewell before bolting out of the door and into the front yard. it was a sunny day with a moderate fall-like temperature, not too hot nor too cold. her legs moved like clockwork as the falling leaves made a crunching sound beneath her sneakers. lyric squints and furrows her brows as she starts to look around the perimeter of the house, her mind started to go into overdrive mode, thinking of what that sneaky ass cat is up to. god, i just pray she’s not lost in a cornfield or behind a barn getting knocked up by some stray. now, i know i raised her better—but then again, i ain’t get her fixed.

after frantically searching all around the front and backyards, lyric made one more final decision before she could take her search further out into town: the next door neighbors. the chances were low, but never zero. besides, she was going to have to cross paths with them anyway. she took another deep breath and placed her hands in her jacket pockets as the autumn breeze picked up with her feet leading her to the home. it was a brisk 2 minute walk. she stopped and her head leaned up to read the hung up wooden sign that read, KENT FARM— and she wasted no time to walk on the property. to say it was just big was an understatement. as lyric ventured down the dirt path of the driveway, her eyes perused the land that possessed animals such as horses, cows, and pigs. she attempted to not contort her face at the new, pungent smells that filled her nose.

i don’t wanna be rude to these people, but ugh! this is nothing short of a farm. i’d better get used to this though.

the abode itself resembled the classic farmhouse with the white picket fence aesthetic. it was a vibrant, lemon yellow two story house with white trimming on the windows and a welcoming porch with white, wooden steps that creaked as lyric’s feet gingerly ascended before approaching the door and checking to see if any cars were parked that indicated the presence of her new neighbors. once she spotted the parked red pickup truck, she took that as her cue to knock on the front door. in the brief time she waited for someone to come to the door, her head turned to the left to find a colossal, vibrant red barn. it seemed to have an open window and what looked like to be a telescope protruding. lyric’s mind began to wander again, but instead of panic, it was serenity.

that looks like a dope spot to stargaze and listen to some stevie. ain’t nothing like your own personal quiet place.

her thoughts were halted at the sound of the front door hinges creaking opening to reveal a couple around her parents age, they both greeted lyric with a “good morning” and benevolent grins which gave her a warm feeling. the wife was a few inches shorter than lyric with auburn hair, blue eyes, and rosy lips. as for the husband, he was towering over both of the females with sandy, blonde curls, sculpted jawline, and blue eyes as well. lyric regained her focus and introduced herself.

“hey—good mornin’! my name’s lyric james. my family and i just moved in last night in the house next door. it’s very nice to meet you mr. and mrs.—“ she paused to lead them to their names to politely address them like how she was raised. with a smile, she held out her hand to give each adult a handshake before the husband reciprocated the salutation on their behalf,

“well, lyric, it is certainly a pleasure to meet you and welcome to the neighborhood! mr. and mrs. kent will do, but when you feel comfortable, my name is jonathan and this is my wife, martha.”

“lyric—what a lovely name. we definitely look forward to meeting the rest of your family very soon and welcome to smallville. is there anything we can help you with, honey?” martha enthusiastically chimed, that sunshine smile reappearing that compelled lyric to return a dimpled simile of her own as a result of that welcoming compliment.

“ah, thank you both so much! first, i just wanna let ya’ll know you have a lovely home. second, if it isn’t such a bother— did ya’ll happen to see a black cat with these big, yellow eyes, no collar, and sneaky? i mean—she has a collar, but because i was so tired, i forgot to put it on her last night. her name is noir. she likes to wander off sometimes and i was wondering if ya’ll seen her around here? i understand if you haven’t, i was making sure before i start putting her face everywhere in town.” lyric’s face heated with embarrassment as she dumped her predicament on these lovely folks, she takes her hands that were previously tucked in her pockets and fidgeted with them. who knew that one kitty could cause this teenager this much stress and chaos? lyric knew, but in this circumstance? give a girl a break.

after lyric drops the cat’s exact description, realization set in martha’s mind and the gears started turning in her brain.

lyric. what a friendly and polite girl! she must be the cat’s owner. the same cat that snuck into the barn and the same cat that clark was currently caring for. not to mention that she’s a sight for sore eyes! this girl could use a trusting and kind first friend in a new place. who better than clark? maybe this was the fresh face that could bring him out of this lana funk.

an invisible light bulb popped out of martha’s head, her smile never ceasing at her clever thinking. it was now martha’s turn to respond to lyric.

“oh, no! that’s unfortunate. we have a son who’s he’s about your age. his name is clark and he would definitely be of service to help find what you’re looking for. he’s actually in that barn right over there.” her auburn bob sways as her head tilts in the direction of the barn, a nonverbal signal for lyric to take a look.

“are you sure about that, mrs. kent? i don’t wanna bother nobody with my problem.” lyric questioned, using one of her hands to brush a piece of hair out of her face.

“i’m positive, lyric! one thing about clark kent, when there’s a call for help, he’ll answer. i’m sure he’d be happy to assist you!” martha said with a reassuring grin.

lyric reciprocated with a grin and nodded her head in approval.

“by the way you’re hyping him up, he sounds pretty cool. alright, mrs. kent, you got a deal. i’ll take you up on that! again, i really appreciate your help! you said that barn over there, right?” lyric pointed to the left.

lyric took the kent’s nods as approval to give them a wave, walk down to the porch steps, and make her brief trip to the red barn with the telescope in the window. the entrance was already opened, giving her easy access. she looked around to see the piles of hay and various farming tools and machinery. her head turned to one side, then the other to see if she could spot the mysterious clark. her gaze then shifted to the beige, wooden staircase that led to the next level.

“here goes something.” she mutters under breath, her legs carrying her to the staircase to get the next lead in finding the missing noir.

“hello! is anybody up there?!” she called out as she ascended.

clark was still in the loft. he was lounging on the sofa with noir comfortably laying across his lap, softly purring and snoozing the day away after a snack and some playtime with a laser pen that clark found. he was now waiting for lyric’s arrival to retrieve her furry companion. his heightened sense of hearing and open window worked in his favor when he heard the recent conversation between the girl and his parents in the distance. that soft voice he heard last night confirmed the match for the voice of the new girl next door. last night, her tone conveyed raspiness and exhaustion, but while conversing with his parents, it was soothing and pleasant to the ear, sensitive or not. he was content in knowing that the feline, noir (now that he finally knew her name) had a caring owner and home. he also couldn’t help, but simper bashfully at hearing his mother’s compliment about his willingness to help others. his cheeks glowing red when lyric enthusiastically agreed and the two were only seconds from meeting. she already thinks i’m cool even though we haven’t met. that’s—interesting.

clark’s thoughts came to a halt when he hears footsteps and that same voice calling out for another human— well, being in his case. him and noir perked up and glanced in the direction of the footsteps that were approaching closer to his exact location. noir let out a mewl that louder than normal.

“noir? noir! is that—“ lyric gains speed at the sound of a “meow” that belonged to the onyx kitty she’s missed so dearly. once she made it to the top of the stairs and rounded the corner, her movements ceased to find a boy sitting on the couch. clark turned his head in her direction. a kind smile that revealed his pearly canines appeared as he gingerly scooped noir in his arms and approached lyric. silence filled the room as they inspected each other’s features for a moment before speaking.

as clark was standing, lyric could tell he was in the 6’0+ range of height. his hair was dark like hers, but he had ivory skin, benevolent aqua blue eyes, sculpted jawline, and rosy lips. he resembled the prince in that little mermaid movie that lyric always enjoyed as a child—after some years, she’s realized it wasn’t just the songs that drawn her in.

clark curiously gazed at the girl before him. she was at average height. he noticed her medium earthy skin tone complimented her deep brown eyes, long, natural dark hair, and shimmery, full lips. he knew that it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that she was pleasant to the eyes. the teen’s conscious’ brought them down to earth before they awkwardly stammered their introductions in sync,

“hey! i’m—“

“hi! my name’s—“

“sorry—“

“my bad—“

they both respond with a brief chortle before clark chimes in,

“ladies first.”

“oh, right! um, my name’s lyric james aka, your new neighbor and owner of that fast tail cat you got.”

lyric gives the boy an amicable grin and playfully glares at noir. she holds out her arms towards clark’s and he instantly takes the cue to hand noir back in lyric’s awaiting arms. he beams as she embraces the feline, her knuckles nuzzling between the ears and pecking her head.

“god, don’t you ever do that to me again. i’m too young to have a heart attack, but i’ve missed you, girl!” she affectionately murmured.

“i’m clark kent by the way! it’s really nice to meet you, lyric.” he holds out his hand and patiently waits as she shifts noir into one arm, popping her on her torso like an infant and reaching her hand to grasp his in the friendly exchange.

“nice to meet you! your mom talked a good game about you helping those who need it. it looks like you really came through and i appreciate that, clark. this is noir and i’m sorry that she snuck over here disturbing your peace, but i forgot to put her tag on, so that’s on me.” lyric confessed, looking at her cat with the expression of a disappointed mother before gleaming in gratitude towards the farm boy.

“hey, it’s no problem, really. this sounds a bit embarrassing, but i’m relieved she snuck in. i was feeling kinda lonely up here and she cheered me up. plus, i got the chance to meet you and get out of doing my chores for a while.”

they briefly laugh before lyric chimes in,

“hey, there’s nothing embarrassing about that! trust, when i’m feeling down, i can count on this gremlin to bring some excitement to my day. even if she get on my everlasting nerves with her shenanigans, wandering off being the biggest issue—now, that you said it, she got me out of doing my chores too!” they laugh again as she playfully rolled her eyes before quickly spotting two empty bowls on the ground. she snickered to herself at her what her mother referred to this morning and it didn’t go unnoticed by clark.

“care to let me in on the joke?” clark wittingly quizzed.

“i think it’s funny how when i was looking for noir this morning and told my mom about it, she said it was because noir was just looking for a snack and that i got her spoiled. it looks like you gave my baby the royal treatment, huh?” lyric chuckled and gestured to the empty bowls.

clark reciprocated his own laughter before he replied,

“i just wanted to make sure she was taken care of before her owner came back. it’s the least i could do for her after she cheered me up! i’m just glad that she has a good home. even though it hasn’t been very long, i think i’ll miss noir when she goes.”

“well, clark, if you want to see noir again, you can! that’s if—you let me kick it with ya’ll. i won’t lie, it’d be nice to know someone when i start at smallville high on monday. you cool with that?” lyric proposes, raising an arched brow and a smirk playing on her lips. inwardly, she didn’t want to put the pressure on by dropping the “f” bomb on him just yet. not until they get to know each other better. lyric wasn’t opposed to it and she got the vibe from clark that he felt the same, especially with the way they hit it off.

the infectiousness of the action caused clark to smile and nod in agreement.

“i’m cool with that. ah! i’m such an idiot.” he jokingly pinches the bridge of his nose while shaking his head. “i’ve probably kept you waiting here all day when you’ve got stuff to do at your place. i’ll walk you home?” that was always the gentlemanly thing to do and clark wanted to make a good impression on his new neighbor who would hopefully want to join him and his small circle of friends starting monday. as they walked down the stairs and out of the barn towards her home, they continued to their small talk for the brief duration of the stroll. he asked the basics of where she was from before moving to smallville, what her life was like there, her family, school, and how she’s adjusting to the new house so far. clark felt a sense of nostalgia. he hasn’t walked down this path towards that house in months, it was refreshing.

they stopped and reached their final destination. clark took it upon himself to walk lyric up to the door while still keeping a safe distance behind her. her father had yet to get extra keys made, so she had to knock on the door. as they waited, lyric turned her body to face his with an appreciative expression and broke the ice,

“hey—all jokes aside, it was really nice of you for taking care of noir until i got her. thanks again! i get a good vibe from you, clark kent. there’s just somethin’ about you. one day, the whole world will see it and they’ll appreciate it like i do.”

clark couldn’t count on his fingers how many times this girl has made him laugh or smile within these several minutes.

“it’s no problem, lyric. it doesn’t hurt to give back to others, whether they’re covered in fur or not. i’m just happy that i can do some good in this world.”

clark reaches over to pet noir on her head one last time before the door swings open to reveal an older african-american woman that looked to be about the same age as his mother. it didn’t take clark’s x-ray vision to see where lyric got her looks from. her mother’s skin tone and eyes matched with lyric’s, her straightened shoulder length hair was dark and shiny. she smiled and greeted the teens with full red lips and the familiar dimples that clark once saw on her daughter’s face. lyric introduces her mother, crystal, to clark and vice versa. crystal was immensely impressed with the farm boy’s manners, politeness, and small town charm. in smallville, chivalry would never die.

after they both make their acquaintance, crystal leaves the two alone to finish unpacking. lyric urges clark to stay put for a second before heading upstairs to her bedroom to put noir’s collar on and places the cat on her bed. she digs into one of those household junk drawers where one could find the items needed at the right time. she retrieved a pack of her mother’s post-it notes and a pen before she power walked to still find clark waiting patiently on the porch, standing with his hands in his jean pockets.

“like i said, if you want to see noir, don’t be a stranger, alright?” she handed him the packet of notes and the pen, “you know what to do, clark.”

“you got it, lyric!” he took the pen and wrote down the digits of the kent’s landline before giving the items back to her.

“when we get our phone in order, i’ll hit you up, so you can save mine. until then, if i’m not doing anything moving-wise, would you like for noir and i to swing by the barn tomorrow? i mean, that’s if you’re good with—“

“i’d love to see you both.” he interrupted her with the same enthusiastic tone. both teens nod with a smile on their faces to confirm their meeting the next day. clark watched and waited until lyric was safely in the house before he traveled back to his own.

maybe this fresh new start wasn’t so bad for the both of them. life will always come with change whether we want to or not, it’s all about what one is to do with that change. how could they adjust? for clark and lyric, they adjusted by the absence of a sneaky, onyx feline. this could be the beginning of a refreshing new era of friendship between the farm boy and the new girl next door.

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mama2bears · 2 months ago

Text

Guardian In The Night - Part 2

Warnings: A few curse words maybe, use of pet name Sweetheart

Pairings: Tyler Owens/F. Reader

A/N: Thank you for the likes! Hope you enjoying the story. I am planning on one more chapter maybe to finish this one up.

Catch up here with Part 1

Tyler was awoken later that night by sirens, or what he thought was sirens. He peeked out the window, and saw blue lights going down your drive way.

He grabbed his cell phone quickly calling your number as he ran out to his truck, still wearing nothing but his boxers.

“Tyler?” you answer your phone and he could tell you were crying.

“What happened? Are you okay? I am on my way now.” he said in one breath.

“Someone tried to break in. They were trying to kick down the door then broke a window.” you couldn't stop the tears and he heard the tremble in your voice.

“I am pulling up to your house now. See you in a minute.”

He barley got the truck parked before jumping out and running over to you, wrapping his arms around you. You were giving a statement to the police officer.

“And you are?” the police officer looked at Tyler.

“I am her neighbor, Tyler Owens.” he said.

“Any idea who could have been around here?” the officer asked, addressing both of you.

“There was a creep at the bar tonight.” Tyler said. “We got into a little altercation when he put his hands on the lady. I followed her home and didn't see anyone following us. Other then that though. I don't know.”

“Ever have trouble out this way before?” he asked.

You shake your heard, “No, I have always felt safe here. Never have had anyone prowling around.”

The officer asked for a description of the guy from the bar, which you gave. They promised to keep a patrol car out this way and would be on the lookout. Other then that, there wasn't nothing else they could do.

Once the officers left, Tyler turned to you. “They broke the window?” he asked.

You nodded, showing him the front porch window smashed with a rock. “I had my daddy's gun and told them I was going to shoot and the police were on the way.” You were shaking, “They took off running.”

“I'll get some stuff in town and fix the window tomorrow.” Tyler told you, “In the mean team, come on over to my house. There's a guest bedroom you can sleep in for the rest of the night.”

“Okay, thank you.” You wipe the tears from your eyes as Tyler pulls you into a hug. “It'll be alright.” he whispered.

You lay your head on his chest, arms tightly wrapped around him, just taking in his scent. You felt safe and protected as Tyler lead you to his truck, opening the door.

Within a minute, you were over at his place and he was leading you up the stairs to the guest bedroom, “You want some tea or anything?” he asked.

“No..I am okay. Thank you.”

“Alright.” he smiled, “My room's right down the hall. Just yell if you need anything.” he backed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

The rest of the night, he spent sitting on the sofa, unable to go back to sleep. He felt that he needed to stay up, stay on guard.

* * * * *

Early that morning you awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs cooking. You saw one of Tyler's shirts and sweatpants laid out on the chair next to your bed with a note, “Bathroom down the hall. Feel free to take a shower and put these on. I know we forgot to grab you some clothes last night. Thought you'd feel more comfortable in something other then your nightgown to wear. Breakfast will be ready for you.”

You smile, picking up the clothes and heading into the bathroom, turning on the hot water.

Tyler hears the water running upstairs, so he goes ahead and fixes you a plate of food and pours your coffee, setting the cream and sugar out on the table for you.

“Morning.” he smiles when you walk down the stairs, “Breakfast is ready.”

“Thank you. It smells delicious.” you smile.

“Still like cream and sugar in your coffee?” he asked.

“You remember, after all this time?”

“Of course I do. Used to be three creams and two sugars. I wasn't sure if it changed, so I just put the cream and sugar on the table.”

“It hasn't changed.” you smile.

“I am going to head into town and get some glass to fix that window for you. Want to ride along?”

“You don't need to fix it. I'll file a claim with the insurance and get someone out there.”

“It will take days if not weeks to get someone out there. It's no problem to fix it. I just need to take measurements, have them cut the glass and put it in. A few minutes I'll have it in.”

“Thank you, Tyler...for last night, for everything.”

“Anytime. That's what friends are for.” he looked at you, sitting at the kitchen table in his t shirt and sweats, sipping coffee and eating a breakfast he prepared for you. He couldn't help but to think if this might have been what every morning would have looked like if he had only returned your call five years ago. Maybe you would have had a little one or two running around the table.”

“Ever wonder what could have been?” he asked softly after a few moments.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“What if you didn't leave for school? What if I didn't leave to go chase storms? What if I wasn't an ass and I returned your call or even called you. What if we didn't go five years without seeing or speaking to each other.”

You only shook your head, “There's no way to know what could have been, so I just don't think about it. Life goes on.”

“Yeah...yeah it does.” he starts loading the dishwasher, then drives you back home. He makes you wait in the truck while he runs a check though the house and around the property, making sure no one was hanging around and nothing else had been broken into.

“I'll be back in about an hour or so and get that window fixed.” he said before leaving.

“It's my turn for lunch today. Since you made it yesterday, I'll have us some sandwiches ready when you come back. Maybe make some of my sweet tea.”

“Ah, I used to love that sweet tea! It was always the sweetest.” he smiled, “Alright...see you for lunch then, sweetheart.”

You smiled, that was the second time he had used 'sweetheart' with you since last night.

Going into the house, you double check all the doors to make sure they were locked and called your dog Jack into the house before sitting down to try and read a book. You try to concentrate on the words in front of you, but every little sound was making you look. You felt like someone was watching, but you knew no one was there. You felt alone, and for the first time that you could remember, you were actually scared to be alone.

You toss the book down and turn up some music before beginning to make lunch. You kept glancing out the window, watching for Tyler's truck to come speeding down the drive way. Two hours seemed to drag on forever, until finally, you heard the music blasting and soon the truck appeared in a cloud of dust.

Finally, you felt some relief. You felt safe again.

As promised, it only took Tyler a few minutes to get the new window put in.

You brought the sandwiches and tea out to the front porch and set them on the table between two rocking chairs. “Bathroom is right in the door, to the right if you want to wash up.” you tell him.

“Thanks. Those sandwiches look amazing.” he lingered in the doorway for a moment, everything in him wanted to kiss you, but he forced himself to go on into the bathroom and wash up.

Again, he thought about what could have been. Him fixing things around the house for you. You having lunch ready for him and you two sitting there on the front porch, making small talk and enjoying the view.

Tyler sat down, taking a sip of the tea you made and gave you a smile, “Still the sweetest tea ever.” he paused looking out over your front yard, towards his house, “There's a few cells about an hour west of here into Texas. The team and I are going to head out soon as I am done eating. Would you care to put the horses in the barn for me tonight? It might be late when I get home.”

“Yeah, sure.” you say, dread filling you as you thought about night.

“Thanks. You gonna be okay?” he asked.

“Yeah..fine.” you force a smile, “I am sure whoever it was last night is long gone.”

“Probably. You got my number, if you need anything, call me, okay?” he asked.

“Will do.” you pick up the plates and glasses and carry them into the house. Tyler waits a moment before standing and opening the door a bit, “I am heading out now. See you in the morning, I'll send the money I owe you to your Venmo before I leave.” he called.

“No problem. Whenever you can. I trust you. Be safe out there.” you call back.

“Bye.” He says and walks to his truck, 'I love you.' He whispers under his breath, taking one more look at the house before driving away.

* * * *

You get the kitchen cleaned up and then run over to Tyler's place to bring his horses into the barn and feed the dog. The sun was just starting to set when you made your way back home and you quickly ran into the house, slamming the door and locking it.

Your dog, Jack laid in middle of the living room floor looking at you as tried to catch your breath. Why were you terrified of the coming night? Surely there was no one out there. They were gone. There was nothing to fear...that's what you kept telling yourself.

Going over to the sofa, you pick up the phone, seeing a message from Tyler,

“We're going live on the YouTube channel in a few minutes...this one looks big...maybe you wanna check it out?” was the message along with a link to the Tornado Wranglers you tube.

You sigh, settling in and opening up the channel. The first thing you see is Tyler's truck in middle of the tornado, fireworks shooting off the back of the truck, lighting up the twister.

This was worse then bull riding...you thought. You continued watching as the team danced around the truck hooting and hollering once the tornado was over. Somehow, not feeling quite so alone as long as you were connected to the live feed. It was like you had a connection to someone else, and weren't sitting here alone with who knows what outside.

A thump outside made you jump and you ran to turn on the lights. Your dog only glanced up at you and didn't seem alarmed, but you were. You thought you heard footsteps and you run though the house turning on lights at each room you came too. Then you dart back to the living room, turning on the TV and turning it up louder. Maybe, if you had the TV on, whoever or whatever outside would think you weren't alone...and would leave.

You sat on the sofa trembling in fear until sleep finally won out.

* * * * *

It was almost 1 am when Tyler was approaching his drive way. He slowed as he passed you house, noticing all the lights were on. He quickly turned into the driveway and sped up to the house.

Picking up his phone, he texted, “You okay?”

The ding of your phone startled you awake, once more. You kept drifting in and out of sleep, every little noise you heard or thought you heard make you jump.

“Yeah. Where are you?” you sent him a message, noticing the time. Why was he texting you at 1 am?

“I was heading home and saw the lights on.” he answered, “Everything okay?” Tyler decided not to tell you that he was sitting right outside your door just yet.

“Yeah, I just thought I heard a noise. Guess it was nothing.” you replied.

Tyler scanned the area around your house, then picked up the flashlight he kept next to the driver's seat.

He called you instead of sending another message.

“Tyler?” you answer on the first ring.

“Hey, I am just outside of your house now. Where did you think you heard the noise at?” he asked, on full alert.

“I...I don't know. All over I guess. I can't sleep. Every time I fall asleep, something wakes me up. Just jitters probably.”

“I am going to take a look around just to be sure. Stay in the house with the doors locked. I'll let you know if I find anything.”

“Tyler..no.” you protest. “I am sure it's nothing.”

“I'll call you back in a few. Hang tight.” he hanged up and stepped out of the truck, shining his flashlight around. He made a full circle around the house, checking the windows, bushes and ground then moved on towards the barn, checking in every corner he could. Once he was satisfied there was nothing there, he walked back to the truck and called you.

“Everything okay?” you asked, peering out the window, your voice trembling a little.

“All clear. No signs of anything out here. Probably was the wind.” he paused, “Wanna come crash at my place again?”

You thought for a moment then answered, “No...I'll be okay. I am just really tired. Thank you, Ty. I feel safer now that you checked out things.”

“No problem. Good night, Sweetheart.” he smiled, getting back in the truck. He sat there for a few moments, watching as one by one each light in the house was turned out.

He leaned his seat back and did his best to get comfortable before dozing off. He wasn't about to return home if you were afraid. If you weren't going to come home with him, then he was going to stay out here in his truck, making sure you were safe.

* * * * *

The sun was just peeking up over the horizon when your dog started fussing to go out. “Alright, fine.” you mutter, stumbling out of the bed and to the door. You were shocked to open the door and see the red Dodge Ram sitting there in the drive.

“Tyler?” you called.

He jumped awake at the sound of your voice, quickly looking around, then smiling at you.

“Morning Sweetheart.” he smiled.

“What the hell are you doing sleeping in your truck in front of my house?” you scold him, hands on your hips.

“I didn't want to leave last night. You seemed worried and if you were hearing noises out here, I wanted to stay here and makes sure everything was okay.”

Your heart was filled with love. Actually, the love you had always felt for Tyler Owens never did go away. It always lingered, and maybe that's why you never got too serious with anyone. Your heart always belonged to him. Even if you would never be anything more then friends, the thought that this man would willingly sleep in his truck outside your house... just to make sure you were okay, made that love grow ever more.

“Well come on in and I'll make us some coffee. Want some pancakes for breakfast?” you offered.

“Sounds great.” he smiled, hoping from the truck, giving the dog a pet on the head before following you in. “Let me help with something.” he offered.

“You take the plates out if you want, after you wash up.”

“Yes, ma'am.” he grinned, washing his hands in the sink, “Where's the plates?” he asked? “Right side of sink, second cabinet, first shelf.” you direct him, pouring the pancake mix in the skillet.

“Wanna go for a ride today? We can load the horses up on the trailer and take them to one of the trails around. I am sure the dogs would like to come too.”

“No storms to chase today?” you asked, standing to clean up the dishes.

Tyler puts his hand on your arm, then stands. “Nope...sit back down. You cook, I clean.” he grinned, “And no, don't look like there's any storms until maybe next week. There might be some over in Oklahoma.” he stated, taking the dishes from you and loading them in the sink.

“You don't have to wash my dishes. My house, my dishes, I clean.”

“Don't work like that, Sweetheart. Not with me. I'll get these washed up and run home to tend to the horses. Maybe we can pack a lunch and have a picnic up at the state park...if you wanted to go. I could help out with any chores around here before we left.”

“That sounds great.” you smile. It sounded like the perfect date to be honest...but it wasn't a date. You both had already established that you were friends...best of friends, but friends all the same. “I don't have much here to do. A quick shower and feed the dog. I'll get us some sandwiches and chips put together for a picnic.”

“It's a date then. I'll pick you up in two hours.” Tyler said causally, but hoping that maybe...just maybe it could have been the date that he wanted to take you on fifteen years ago...back when he first carved your name in that old oak tree. He walked to the truck with a skip in his step. He knew he had some work to do, but maybe...just maybe, he could make up for his past mistakes.

#tyler owens fic #twisters fanfic #tyler owens x reader #twisters x reader #tyler owens x you #twisters fic #twisters fanfiction

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midnighthazee · 14 days ago

Text

Greenridge ABO Series

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Warnings: Torture, mentions of abuse, mentions of blood, explicit language, name calling, fear, near death experiences....

WC: 1757

Chapter 1

“I have business to handle with the Harlow pack tomorrow. Frankie and Triston are going with me to meet with our allies. I need you here to be in charge of the house while I’m gone.” Alpha Lewis says to Hayes.

“You got it. I will keep you updated.” Hayes nodded his head.

“I know nothing will really be going on around here but I will be gone for a few days. Maids should be here to clean at 9 am… Oh and uh, make sure they feed the omegas. I think they forgot yesterday.” Lewis rolled his eyes as if it was silly for them to have forgotten.

“Surprised I can’t hear their stomachs growling from up here.” Milo chuckled, walking into the room.

“Y’all two stay out of trouble this time. Last time you burned down my shed.” Lewis pointed a finger at Milo.

“Hey…it was old anyways. We built you a nicer one.” Milo said.

“Yeah so I don’t want to lose this one either.” Lewis said, leaving the room.

Lewis is Alpha to the Nyko pack. A pack known for its ruthless leader, large numbers, and murderous ways. Alpha Lewis took over two of the neighboring packs, making them all submit to his rule. Anyone who refused, he slaughtered in front of their family. In doing so, he grew vastly in territory and numbers, now having nearly fifty members loyal to him. No one dares cross him, for a war could break out - most of the surrounding packs don’t even come close to the numbers he has.

For the most part, any remaining packs that neighbor his territory live in harmony with him. They stay on their land and out of his way and he doesn’t overtake their land.

Alpha Lewis’s immediate pack consists of a lesser alpha, five betas and three omegas. The lesser alpha is his younger brother as well as one of the betas. The rest of the people under his rule live in their own dwellings and not in his house like the immediate pack. A few members of the pack share rooms but the omegas are kept locked up in the basement.

Nightfall was approaching as Hayes and Milo unlocked the padlock on the basement door. Alpha Lewis had left late morning and should be in Harlow territory by now. Which means he’s far away and off-the grid for the rest of the night. He will probably check in tomorrow morning but for now, the boys were home with just the omegas. The two other betas left behind decided to go see a movie in town.

The basement was half finished. The unfinished part had prison looking cells - one for each omega and an extra. Cement walls and flooring with reinforced steel bars in the front. The walls and floors were damp from leaks, the air smelling of piss and mildew. Each cell had a metal cot with a thin mat on a wire frame, a hole in the ground for them to relieve themselves, and a chain embedded into the wall and connected at the ankle of the omega inside.

The omegas were filthy, hair matted, and covered in injuries and bruises both old and new. They cowered into the back corner as the young alpha and beta appeared. They stopped at one of the female’s door. It was their favorite omega - YOU. You whined, pushing yourself further into the back wall, but they just laughed.

“C’mon bitch��.we wanna play.” Milo taunted.

Hayes opened your door and stepped inside. You cowered in the corner, shaking and shying away as he unlocked the cuff on your ankle. Then he snatched you up and guided you out. You winced in pain as he forced you to walk. You knew Alpha Lewis must be gone if they decided to “play” with you. They only took you out to play when he wasn’t home to boss them around and keep them busy. So they use you to stay entertained.

You endured whatever game they came up with, knowing no one would take your side or care what they did to you. Their latest interest is a game of hunting. And it seemed like it would be the same game again tonight as they led you through the living room towards the back door.

Wincing at the bright lights, you looked down and tried not to trip over your own feet as you walked. Your limbs hurt, you were tired and hungry, and you were not in the mood to entertain them. Not that you ever were, but most nights they bring you out, you use it to your advantage and study the terrain. One day you will escape, and when you do, you will know how to get away. But tonight, you didn’t have it in you.

“Alright bitch… run.” Milo commanded with an eager smile.

Your feet were heavy and you felt like doing anything but running. All the walking made you lightheaded honestly and you wanted to just curl up and die. You drop to the floor, sitting as your hands support you from fully laying on the floor.

They both sigh dramatically.

“I think she needs some motivation..” Hayes says.

Milo pulls a gun from the back of his pants. It was a BB gun, modified to have a stronger shot and shoot bigger pellets. He aims it at you, touching the side of your head. Your breath catches in your throat as you slowly turn to see the barrel of the gun aimed at you. Hayes flashed his BB gun too.

“I got new pellets…” Milo wiggles his eyebrows. “They are silver.”

Hayes whips his head to his brother, brows furrowed.

“So… run.” Milo growls.

You scramble to your feet and take off, knowing too much silver will kill you. You hear the pop of the gun and hear the whoosh of a pellet go by your ear. He just missed you. You run into the treeline, heading for cover in the woods.

“Silver?! Are you nuts? We aren’t out here to kill her.” Hayes speaks lowly.

“Relax… I won't hit her much. I just want to use these special ones here.” Milo holds out a gloved hand with pellets in it.

“Why are they blue?” Hayes reaches for one.

“Don’t touch without gloves. Each one contains a small dose of cobalt.”

Hayes steps back quickly. “What the hell?”

“I have an antidote. I’m not gonna kill her.” Milo rolls his eyes.

“Silver is one thing Milo, but cobalt?” Hayes lectures. “Lewis can’t find out we do this when he’s away…remember?”

“She’s getting away, c’mon.” Milo says, running into the woods after you.

This went on for over an hour. They would get too close when you stopped to catch your breath, which was often, and you would feel the pellets pierce your skin. The pain kept the adrenaline pumping, pushing you to get up from behind whatever tree or bush you were using to hide and keep running. This was the first time they used silver pellets. Most of the time the regular pellets hurt enough to keep you running away, especially when they got too close. But this pain was much worse.

One of the first times they decided to play their little hunting game with you, you decided that the pain wasn’t worth all the running. You refused to play along and in turn you were badly beaten - worse than the pellets would have been. They threatened to tell Alpha Lewis and when that didn’t scare you enough (because you knew he wasn’t home), they took to beating you. They broke three ribs and your leg. The healing was excruciating and took longer than it should have thanks to the terrible living conditions and lack of food.

They must have explained to Alpha Lewis what happened when he was gone because he didn’t say anything about your injuries and was more irritated with you than usual. He also withheld a few meals from you and kept you locked in the basement and used the other omegas for his fun for a while. From that day forward, she knew not to underestimate the brothers, or the absence of their alpha.

You ran as fast as your legs would go, the ground beneath your bare feet feeling like glass shards with every step. You huffed as you weaved between the trees and bushes. You could feel the branches slashing at your skin as you ran past but you didn’t let it stop you. Plus the cover of night made it nearly impossible to see anything or where you were going.

As you ran, the world felt as if it began to tilt. You blinked and shook your head trying to focus. It didn’t work and you lost your footing, stumbling forward. You hit the ground with a thud, knocking the air from your lungs. You cough, trying to breathe in air as your heart pounded.

“We can smell your blood.” Hayes taunted.

Forcing yourself to stand, your limbs feel heavy. Wincing as you stand, you stumble as you try to stand straight. What was happening? Was this because you hadn’t eaten in like two days? You heard a branch snap behind you. Whipping your head around, you don’t see anything. They sounded close so you took off again.

As you run, you begin to slow. It feels as if you're trudging through mud. You push with all your might but you don’t feel right. Looking around, you realize you’re not on your usual path. These trees haven’t been marked by you from the previous nights. There’s no dirt path beneath you either - at least that you can see in the darkness of the woods. Looking around, you were definitely lost. Fear creeped up as your stomach churned.

You run, hoping you can circle back to the path, afraid to run into any neighboring territories. Alpha warned you of the awful things they would do if they found you unwelcomed on their land. Shivering at the thought, your eyes feel heavy. You push through your head as it spins but it’s no use. You stumble over a tree root and tumble forward.

You reach a hill and manage to tumble down the ferns and ivy. Your body hits the ground with a thud and you feel yourself slipping into darkness, your whole body screaming at you in pain. When the brothers do find you, you are definitely going to pay for this.

TAGLIST:

@its-the-solar-system @estella-novella

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xmorguekittyx · 6 months ago

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Chapter 1 : 𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 & 𝘽𝙡𝙪𝙚

master list

Pattering, the sound of the rain pelting the windshield and the whooshing of wind kissing her windows had her heart feeling like it was in her throat. The pulsing of her heartbeat, she could almost taste it. "The National Weather Service has issued a tornado warning in these following counties-", shit. It never sees to fail that while she was the most nervous, things would continue to get worse and worse. Strikes of lightening lit up the soaked pavement, there was at least 30 more miles before she hit Raccoon City outskirts. She should've postponed heading out of town, but Desmond needed some Blood BeGone soap, which she had been sent to go deliver. The storm seemed to put everyone out of commission. It was a crying shame, honestly. "-IMPACTS... Flying debris will be dangerous to those caught without shelter. Mobile homes will be damaged or destroyed. Damage to roofs, windows, and vehicles will occur. Tree damage is likely. You are in a life-threatening situation. Flying debris may be deadly to those caught without shelter. Mobile homes will be destroyed. Considerable damage to homes...businesses...and vehicles is likely and complete destruction is possible.", Jesus, could things get worse?

They could; the storm seemed to be a little bit before schedule, her headlights illuminating branches and twigs laid over the pavement. The rain blurring the image as she leaned forwards, praying that the branches would grant her mercy and not wreak havoc on her tires. Surely, one thing had to go right, right? Maybe the gods could pass on a little favoritism. The road had to be cleared, but she would have to make it across, her eyes squint to try and find some distinguishable marker for her calling the sheriff's office once she gets back to the morgue. They should be able to stop traffic at least for the night, hopefully nobody has had to come through- a small gasp part her lips. Between the trees sat a blue Honda, the car having the trunk popped and, absolutely, nobody around. A sick feeling of unease crept up her throat as she eyed the car, analyzing, again, anything she could remember to tell police. Part of her wanted to jump out and make sure everything was okay, but the lights were shut off, she could only see it as her head lights shinned past it. It was just unfortunate timing; she could feel the gusts of wind trying to sway her car. Hopefully they had been picked up and just forgot the trunk, as much as that would suck; that was the best outcome. Especially with how bodies had been piling up at her job.

The anxiety she felt from the storm and car hit an all-time high as she heard the beginning of Nobody by Avenged Sevenfold start to play from her cupholder, jarring her already frazzled mind. The photo of Leon Kennedy flickering in her screen, it was from when her father had still been alive, working at the same police station Leon did. He passed right when Leon joined, but that had been a few years ago. No matter how much it felt like it was yesterday, time was moving fast, but she felt like she was being left behind. Her eyes glanced up at the road before she slammed on the breaks, a doe running across the street as her tires locked up, squealing as her phone fell into the floorboards. Hands fighting the steering wheel as she tried to steady the car and her heart. "I'll have a damn heart attack before I even make it back.", she sighed, her chest expanding to take in all the air she could. Nobody playing once more, had her nearly jumping out of her skin as she scrambled with the phone, scooping it from the floor. "Hello?", she held the phone to her ear, sitting in the car, she couldn't bare driving right now. Afraid was an understatement, it appears the gods found no favor for her, this night. "Where are you? Harvy has been blowing up my office phone demanding I start up a missing person's report.", his airy and slow voice drawled over the receiver. "Well...", her eyes went back through the droplet covered window. "The roads are getting worse, I've been having some trouble returning to the morgue.", she felt the air build up on her lungs before letting it out in a huff. "Hey- Leon?", she figured now was better than never to tell him all the shit that had gone on tonight. "There's a car up here on mile marker 37, trunk's open and lights are off. It's parked in the woods a little off the shoulder. You think you guys could come check it out and clear the road?", if they would tonight, would be the real question. "I'll head out first thing in the morning, it's unsafe to be out there right now. You said mile marker 37? There's a motel just a few roads south of you. If I were you, I'd stop in for the night, Kitty.", his voice sounded like honey poured on pancakes in the golden hour of sunrise. Hot coffee laying in the windowsill as the day started early on. Saying Katerina Visage had a crush on Leon Kennedy would've resulted in pink cheeks and embarrassed groans. Now, it left her wondering; what if?

"Yeah, I'll stop there for the night. I'll have to book it on foot, during this but-", her voice trailed off. "It's better than getting kidnapped or taken in a tornado in your car.", sometimes, he sounded like her dad. "It's... rough out here.", her voice was full of exhaustion. It felt like today had lasted the week, "You mind stopping by in the morning on your way to check things out? It would make me feel a little better just seeing you.", in all honesty, she was spooked. The storm, the car, the deer, the motel she'd never even heard of before. "Yeah, don't worry about that. First thing in the morning I'll be at that motel, waiting to take you back home. I'll get your car towed; Chief Iron's wouldn't want you paying for that.", he sounded like he was stretching, she was sure that it must've been a slow night for the men. The rain probably the only mischief Raccoon City had going on tonight. "Thank you, Leon. I don't know what I'd do without you.", her teeth sunk into the dead skin around her nails. "I guess I'm about to start walking, I'll message you once I get there, okay?", her voice was full of dread. The walk was not super familiar, especially in the dark with a nearly dead road. "Stay safe, Kit. Don't be afraid to call me if anything happens.", he had a soft tone with those words, Kitty remembered Leon being the rookie. She was 17 when she first saw the 21 year old, fresh from the academy walk into RPD. Her dad being one of the first to welcome him.

"My daughter put up a banner for you, we've all been excited to have you join.", he waved to the circle banner that read. 'Welcome Leon', the 'e' in Leon was twisted but she was so proud of hanging it. Her smile wide as she also introduced herself to the man, starting a friendship that grew over a mutual shared space.

Her father's passing brought them closer together, her father was always close with Leon. He had been the one to train him on the job. "Just get there and pray there's a room.", she sighed, before grabbing her charger, her phone, wallet and keys. Her body had to tense as she placed her hand on the handle, taking a deep breath of warm air and dryness. She had to just hurry, it was just a coincidence the car was abandoned, right?

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ailithnight · 2 years ago

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*Whoops. Forgot to title and link previous chapters. Fight me, I just woke up.

A King in Arkham

Chapter 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

"Tim. Tim you have to get me copies of this footage." Tim is not surprised by the request. In fact, the 'Sure' is already on his tongue when he pauses, a thought creeping into his head, seeded by the notification Tim really hopes Jason isn't paying attention to in the bottom corner of the computer.

"One condition."

"Fuck you, I knew you'd want something. What? You want my cookies? Coffee? For Red Hood to go on camera singing praises for Red Robin? I'll fuckin do it. Just send me the god damn clips."

"Nope, nope, and tempting, but no."

"Name your price, Replacement. I'll pay it."

"Swear you aren't going to go rush in and extract the kid until we're done investigating him."

"What!? Fuck that! I told you was pulling him out next chance I get!" Tim lets himself groan in annoyance.

"Look, anyone that could do that-" Tim gestures to the part of the screen where they'd pulled up The Joker's medical reports following the incidents, showing pictures and descriptions of just how thoroughly Daniel had beat his ass 3 weeks in a row, "without getting so much as a scratch or fucking bruise in return, has got something going on. There may well be a reason they sent him to Arkham!"

Jason's eyes narrow at Tim as he all but growls, "No reason is good enough to put-"

"A fifteen year old in Arkham. I fucking know that, Hood. But we still need to know exactly who we're dealing with when we get him out. What his deal is. If his dangerous. What the hell was so wrong with him that someone thought it was a good idea to stick him in there to begin with."

"He could get hurt while we're sitting on our asses trying to satisfy fuckin Bat paranoia!"

"He took down the Joker! Clearly he can take care of himself."

"Then who has been hurting him!?"

"Maybe him fucking self!" Tim knew he was pushing it. The green growing stronger in Jason's eyes was proof. But he needed to buy them some time before Jason made thing exponentially harder by storming the castle. Still, now he needed to calm Jason down before he went into a full rage. So Tim held up his hands placatingly.

"A few days, Jay. Just give us a few more days. I'm already almost through the Arkham reports, and there are only a handful from Chicago and Oracle is probably going to announce any minute now that she got through the communications blackout around his home town. We just need a bit more time to sort out intel so that we actually know how to help him once we get him out."

Finally, after a tense 34 seconds, green fades back into blue and Jason let's out a heavy sigh.

"Fine. But I get to tell the Bat about Daniel's discipline slips. Wanna see his fuckin face when I do."

"Deal." Tim hurriedly puts a comm in as Jason watches with narrowed eyes.

Batman.

Red Robin. Ready to fill me in?

Not yet, you're about to be busy. I isolated a pattern earlier. Exactly 15 minutes before the locks malfunction, there's been a strange power surge. Always written off. But the surge doesn't seem to be coming from the grid. And like I said, exactly 15 minutes later is when the locks malfunction.

Jason huffs as he catches on. Apparently he hadn't thought to question why Tim was so desperate to buy time before.

Robin responds, since he's on stakeout with Bruce. Mostly because Bruce won't let him watch the asylum alone. Much as the kid hates it, the rest of the family agrees. It's only a matter of time before someone in max security manages to take advantage of theses malfunctions. So far Croc is the only one who had, though thankfully he's not one to start shit on his own. But with Joker, Scarecrow, and TwoFace all inside; any one of them, or god forbid all three, could make for a real bad situation.

Tt. So you can tell before a malfunction happens.

Think so. Last power surge was 8 minutes ago.

And you are only telling us now, why Drake?

Codenames.

Cause he spent those 8 convincing me not to go get our kid out yet.

6 minutes. See if you can stop things before they start.

I'm not far out. Want me to join you?

Tt. I doubt we'll need your assistance, Signal. We shall be done before you get here.

No wait. Signal, head in. See if you can get a read on 26B.

You think he might be meta?

Hood?

Jason glares at Tim betrayed.

"I wanted to see his fuckin face."

Tim just waves him off.

"They need to know. You tell them or I do."

Boys

Jason scowls, but relents.

He put the Joker in the infirmary on his 1st, 7th, and 15th days there. All 3 times took no damage himself. Feral child had to be pulled off and still didn't stop struggling till the clown was out of sight.

All 3 assaults followed by panic attacks, though whether about the Joker himself or what Daniel had done to him, we don't know yet.

The comms were silent for a moment.

A 15 year old...

Did what you've never had the balls to old man.

...I've fought the Joker.

Daniel hits first.

Hnn

I will admit, it is impressive that he can take the Joker down alone. Perhaps he will make for a worthy brother after all.

4 minutes.

We're moving in. Thank you Red Robin, Hood.

The fuck are you thanking me for?

For helping. And giving us time to work this out.

ETA 7 minutes out. Be with you shortly.

The advanced warning proved invaluable for Batman and Robin. After alerting the chief of security of their supposed pattern, he had guards already in motion when the doors swung open. Batman took a perch to watch for max security escapees while Robin assisted the guards in keeping inmates corralled. Many didn't even bother to leave their designated areas, having already seen the Bats in the building.

No sign of any max security inmates. Normally, Batman would find this concerning. And while he did file it away to ponder later why no one from max security ever seemed to make it out of that wing, for today he counted the blessing that he would not have to try to keep Robin safe while dealing with someone like the Joker.

Batman tracked motion through the crowds, watching as a black mop of hair moved, seemingly otherwise unnoticed, through the sea of people. He thought to move in to direct the person back towards where people were being herded to, but the small figure merely walked towards the B wing and entered one of the far cells. That gave Bruce a sneaking suspicion of which patient that was. He moved to get a closer look as Signal swooped in.

"Where is he?"

"I believe he just went into his cell. This way." Batman led Signal to the cell he'd seen that tiny person enter. It was indeed 26B and there was indeed a small, too small, frail looking boy lying on the bed there. A red blotch had appeared under his left eye even though Bruce was certain there had been no injury there as the boy had crossed the hall.

Signal froze beside him, breath stuttering. The boy briefly glanced at them through the corner of his eye, mouth twitching into a brief frown. Then his eyes turned back to the ceiling and his face smoothed out. Bruce couldn't help but reach out.

"Hello." The boy said nothing. Signal opened and closed his mouth, seeming to try to say something, but unable to get words out. Batman wondered what he must be seeing. "You seem hurt. Do you need help?" Eyes flickered back to him and away just as quickly.

"Nothing you can help with Mr. Batman." And oh, how Bruce hated the kid's voice. So quiet and so so hollow. Bruce's mind flashed to his children, imagining any them speaking with such emptiness. His heart clenched, wondering what could have happened to this boy to have snuffed the life out of him so young.

Duke found his voice again, just as the doors buzzed and swung shut again.

"What are you?" Bruce frowned, looking at his latest. Who was looking, as Bruce tracked his gaze, not at Daniel but at the space just above him. Daniel himself seemed to take interest all of a sudden, breaking away his upward gaze to roll his head and look at them. Confusion plain on his face, the first hint of life shining dimly in his eyes.

"Signal? Signal, what do you see?" Batman asked. Robin materialized beside them. The daytime hero stepped forward, then back, light sparking and fizzling around his fingertips.

"There's something in there with him."

Daniel looked back up, where Signal still had his gazed trained on something Batman couldn't see. Even Robin seemed confused, though he no doubt trusted Signal's meta sight.

"Don't worry," Daniel murmured, "S'just a ghost. She can't hurt you."

This 'ghost' seemed unhappy either with the teen's words or this turn of events. Daniel's head snapped back to the side again, causing Batman and Signal to wince while Robin watched stoically. 4 red scratches appeared on Daniel's right cheek, as though he had been backhanded by someone with clawlike nails. A light chill brushed through him and Signal tensed, then relaxed, his gaze finally turning from the emptiness above Daniel to the boy himself. Batman took that as a sign that the... entity, was gone.

Daniel did not react to the obvious abuse from an invisible assailant. He mechanically turned his head back, once more dead and glazed eyes returning to the cracks in the ceiling of his cell. "You should go now. The guards will come around soon to make sure I'm still here."

Bruce wanted so badly to say 'Don't worry, we'll get you out of here.' But Batman was more restrained than that. He would get the child out. But he would have a plan first. For now, Bruce placed a hand each on the shoulders of Duke and Damien, guiding them away. Only when they were back outside did Bruce let them go. Only when they were perched on a rooftop half a block away did Batman pause.

"Robin, report."

"No escaped inmates and no sign of any from maximum security."

"Good. Signal, any information on what you saw in there." Duke rubbed at his eyes.

"A ghost, I guess? I don't know. It was weird. She didn't really have an aura. It was more like, an absence of aura. Like she was a black hole, drawing all the light in."

Even behind the domino, Bruce could tell Damien rolled his eyes.

"And what of the patient, Thomas? Was he not the one you were sent to look at?" Batman bit back the reprimand for codenames, more interested in Signal's response. Signal seemed to think for a moment, then shook his head.

"He definitely had a pretty distinct aura. It... felt powerful. But it looked weak. Dim. When the ghost... struck him, it flared up a bit, but died back down almost instantly. I... I get the feeling he was holding it back. Almost like he was afraid of it. Of himself."

"Hnn. Good job Signal. Robin. You two are welcome to head back to the cave. I'll take the rest of this Arkham shift."

At that moment, the comms crackled to life.

Actually B, you may want to come in, also. Arkham should be fine. And I found why they sent the kid there.

#A King in Arkham #DP x DC #my writing #In case ya can't tell #I have no idea what the layout of Arkham is supposed to be #So I'm just kind of imagining a tv stereotypical prison layout #Two story room with double layers cells #Congregating area in the middle #Max security off in its own section #Probably not at all what Arkham is supposed to look like #But I reckon the details can be a bit nebulous for the sake of fanfiction

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maboroshi-no · 2 months ago

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Hamefura LN14 Chapter 5 (End) Summary

I am currently reading Hamefura LN14 and will post summaries as I read.

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1: The Encounter at the Party: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Chapter 2: What Dark Magic Is: Part 1 Part2 Chapter 3: The Domain Where Cyrus Was Born and Raised: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Chapter 4: To the Forest's Depths!

Chapter 5: Let's Go Back to the Ministry of Magic

Raphael Properly Reports About Sarah

The next day, Raphael tells Cyrus he gave a false report yesterday. He properly tells him what he knows about Sarah and that she might have run away because she felt shaken after seeing him. Katarina has accompanied Raphael because he asked her.

Cyrus tells Raphael he can understand why he felt shaken given his history and he won't blame him for that. But as a Ministry member, he doesn't think it was right for him to retain important information and give a false report. He asks him to be careful next time. Raphael replies he will.

Cyrus will process the details of yesterday's events.

Cyrus and Maria Have Become Closer

Maria tells Cyrus she has slept well and now feels considerably better. She thanks him with a bright smile for all he did yesterday.

Cyrus is still overprotective of Maria, which makes her feel obliged.

Katarina thinks Cyrus is an overly caring person in the first place. After all, he constantly worries about her. It's just that he couldn't interact with Maria before because he was uncomfortable with women and she is his first love. But yesterday, he was so drastic as carrying Maria princess-style all the time, so he can probably interact with her now. His natural overly caring temperament is written on his face and he fussily worries about her.

He may be able to face Dewey now.

And the hardworking Maria who is not good at relying on people has started to rely more on Cyrus. Now she asks him to teach her about work more often and they are seen more together.

Since at first glance, Cyrus and Maria look good together, the household people warmly watch over them. Only Haru seems sad when she sees them.

Katarina, Sora, Laura, and Haru Help With Restoring the Fields

Haru was originally supposed to return to her family right away, but she has offered the Lanchester family to help restore the damaged fields as thanks for looking after her. As a result, she will stay for a while.

Katarina, Sora, and Laura also help with the fields' restoration because they are bad at writing reports.

They go to the fields. They are such in a bad state that they need to till them again and clean up the half-eaten crops.

Now, they are helping a rice farmer who needs to harvest rice. Katarina is motivated not only because she knows it is a difficult job for the rice farmer, but also because she feels excited about harvesting rice for the first time in her current life.

The old rice farmer praises Katarina's skills in harvesting rice. Katarina enjoys the praise. She is glad because it is the first time she can use her experience from her past life.

Haru agrees that she is so good at it that it doesn't look like her first time. Katarina enjoys the praise again. Haru is really good at harvesting rice since she comes from Sharma.

The old farmer tells Katarina that given her skills, he'd like to ask her to help plant the new seedlings next month. Katarina instantly accepts but Sora reminds her they will probably be back to the Ministry of Magic by then.

The old farmer is sad and apologizes. He didn't think Katarina was part of the Ministry of Magic since she seemed comfortable here. He thought she was a girl from town. Katarina also apologizes: she felt so comfortable here that she forgot that she needed to go back to the Ministry. The old farmer and Haru laugh and Sora makes a shocked expression.

While holding many rice plants, Laura asks the farmer if she can carry them somewhere. The old farmer says yes.

The old farmer dazzlingly gazes at Laura carrying so many rice plants. He is glad that he could get their help this year. There are no young people in the area so farmwork is always so difficult.

Katarina tells him it is a shame since there is abundant nature and the food is delicious here.

The old farmer is happy that Katarina feels that way. When he was young, he also found the countryside boring because there was nothing there, but once he went to the city, he missed the region and ended up returning here. He likes the abundant nature and the kind people here.

Katarina thinks young people would understand the good sides of the region if they came here. But she wonders what could bring them here.

Katarina thinks the farmers should spread the region's food products a little more. After all, she became addicted to Sharma food after tasting it for the first time here. They should determine the region's selling points and appeal to people with them.

Laura overhears the conversation and agrees with Katarina. She would like them to appeal the region's food and if possible, spread it to the royal capital.

The old farmer blinks his eyes in surprise. He is so used to the food here that he didn't think about it. He will bring it up to the farmers association next time.

Katarina is looking forward to the day Japanese food arrives in the royal capital.

The old farmer tells everyone they can stop here and thanks them. He will have some rice delivered to them once he has finished processing them.

Katarina is happy that she will get new rice.

Sora tells Katarina the paperwork and the restoration of the fields are mostly finished, so they will probably leave for the Ministry tomorrow or the day after.

Katarina is disappointed.

To make her feel better, Laura tells her nothing has been decided yet.

Haru feels sad that they will leave soon since she had fun restoring the fields with them.

Katarina asks Haru if she will stay in Victoire a little longer.

Haru replies she will indeed stay a little longer and then go back since her family is worried.

Katarina tells Haru she will have a feast prepared for her if she comes to the royal capital again.

Haru looks forward to it.

Katarina and Haru exchanges their addresses so they can send each other letters.

Last Evening At Cyrus's Home

Katarina, Sora, and Laura return to Cyrus's home.

Just like Sora has anticipated, Cyrus tells them they have finished the paperwork and fields' restoration, so they will return to the Ministry of Magic tomorrow. Katarina feels dejected that she won't have her new rice.

Since it is her last meal here, Katarina is stuffing herself during dinner. She doesn't care if she will have to rush to the bathroom afterward.

After dinner, Katarina rushes to the bathroom. After she is done, she sees Cyrus discreetly inviting Haru to go to the terrace.

Katarina wonders why she always sees people on the terrace after going to the bathroom. Maybe people often uses it and she only notices them when she goes out of the bathroom?

Cyrus Rejects Haru

Cyrus tells Haru he has someone he loves despite what he told her at the party. While he isn't in an intimate relationship with the person, he can't get engaged and even less marry another woman.

Cyrus has firmly looked at Haru when he said this.

Haru tells Cyrus she already knows. She has realized who he has feelings for after watching him in the manor.

Katarina isn't surprised Haru knows. Haru has always looked so sad when she watched Cyrus and Maria. Maria told Haru the night before they arrived in the domain that she would support her, but Maria seems to have forgotten about it because of the mission. Haru didn't go to Cyrus herself and has just been watching them with a sad look.

Cyrus is shocked that Haru has known about his feelings.

Haru replies she knew and thus understood that she couldn't be the one.

Katarina expects Haru to get mad at Cyrus for lying to her about not being in love with anyone, but…

Haru (dignified tone): I am praying for you to marry and be happy with the one you love.

Haru's words seems to be her true feelings.

Haru dignifiedly leaves in the opposite direction from Katarina. She looks beautiful but Katarina can't help feeling pain in her chest.

Katarina thinks Haru was most likely the rival character in Cyrus's route. She said the same words Mary said in Fortune Lover 1. Katarina found these words beautiful and cool when she played the game, but when they come from a real person, they feel sad and painful.

Katarina looks at Cyrus. He also seems pained while gazing outside from the terrace.

Katarina returns to her room in a sad mood and goes to sleep.

The Departure

The next day, everyone comes out in the garden after finishing the preparations for their return trip. Cyrus's family and Tylor are seeing them off. Haru is not here.

Cyrus's mother has prepared lots of food and sweets for Katarina to bring back as souvenirs. Katarina is incredibly happy. But the amount is too much for the carriage, so Katarina sadly has to reduce it.

The new rice for Katarina couldn't be prepared on time. Cyrus's mother promises Katarina to send it to her in the royal capital no matter what. Katarina happily thanks her. Cyrus's mother is happy that Katarina enjoys their food so much. She tells Katarina she will send food to her through Cyrus. Katarina is overjoyed but Cyrus has mixed feelings about this.

Everyone departs in the following groups: Maria, Cyrus, and Raphael in the first carriage, and Katarina, Laura, and Sora in the second one.

While gazing at the scenery, Katarina sees a woman in the fields waving at her. It is Haru. Katarina shouts good bye at her from the window and waves at her with all her might.

Back to the Ministry

The next day around noon, everyone has safely arrived at the Ministry. As usual, the whole gang is here to welcome Katarina. Katarina is glad her friends always make time to welcome her after her missions despite their busy schedules.

Katarina would like to catch up with everyone but Cyrus tells her "Report first!" and starts dragging her to Larna's office. The gang tells Katarina they will wait for her.

It is now report time with Larna. Katarina expects the report to be short since Cyrus has probably prepared their report. Unfortunately, Larna is extremely curious about the dragons and keeps firing questions about their sizes, their moves, etc. As a result, the report takes more time than Katarina expected.

After everyone has become worn out after Larna's questions, Cyrus asks Larna to stop for today and continue tomorrow. Larna is a bit dejected.

When everyone leaves her office, Larna discreetly moves towards Katarina and tells her she will create an opportunity to talk about "the story from the other day" once things calm down.

Katarina deeply nods in understanding.

Katarina Tells Her Friends How She Defeated a Dragon

When Katarina leaves Larna's office, her friends are rushing to her. They have borrowed a room and prepared sweets and tea for her there. They can all enjoy a tea party since Katarina will have the rest of the day off, but they can't stay for too long since they are busy with work.

Katarina tells everyone with gestures how she defeated the dragon.

Geordo is shocked by Katarina's dangerous actions.

Keith tells Katarina she should think before acting.

Alan is amazed by Katarina's actions.

Mary is shocked by Katarina's dangerous actions.

Sophia tells Katarina she was like a knight in a story.

Nicol is glad Katarina could come out safely of the mission.

After Katarina has finished her story, everyone has tired and dejected expressions on their faces. They make a big sigh.

Geordo can't believe Katarina even though he told her so many times not to put herself in danger or be reckless before she left.

Keith thinks Katarina's definition of reckless might be different from theirs.

Alan agrees since it appears she doesn't consider it reckless to fight a dragon alone.

Mary is so glad Katarina is unharmed.

Sophia wished she could have seen Katarina fight the dragon.

Nicol asks Sophia not to add to it else it will become troublesome.

Katarina can tell her friends are worried about her fighting a dragon alone.

Katarina tells everyone she had no choice but to fight the dragon. Besides, Raphael properly protected her with his wind magic.

Geordo sharply reacts to it: if Raphael protected her, does it mean she really was in danger?! She said before there was no danger!

Katarina explains the dragon breathed out dark mist at her at the very end.

Everyone is horrified.

Keith wonders how Katarina could tell there was no problem during the mission. He really wonders what is inside her head.

Alan can't believe she said there was absolutely no danger. He is amazed by her optimistic thinking.

Mary asks Katarina to be very careful. She doesn't understand how Katarina can be so reckless.

Sophia would have loved to see the dragon breathe out dark mist… wait, no, Katarina was undoubtedly in danger.

Nicol tells Katarina she should really think about her actions if even Sophia says it was dangerous.

Katarina apologizes to everyone for making them worried.

Geordo tells her with a black smile that if she keeps acting recklessly and putting herself in danger, he will confine her in a room.

Katarina feels a shiver running down her spine.

Katarina tells everyone she will be careful.

Everyone lectures Katarina. Everyone's stand is "We understand that it couldn't be helped since it was a mission from the Ministry. But because you didn't recognize danger, you happily thrust yourself into it and then told the story like a heroic tale." In other words, Katarina needs to properly recognize danger and act accordingly. She will be careful next time.

Katarina properly tells everyone "I am home". Everyone tells her "Welcome back" in return. Katarina feels like she has really returned home.

Everyone enjoys the tea party. They end it after about an hour since some of them need to leave because of work.

Geordo Wants to Ride in the Same Carriage as Katarina

Geordo: Why are Mary and Sophia riding in the same carriage as Katarina?

Geordo's lips are twitching.

Mary (elegant smile): Oh? Since we are returning home as well, we will ride together for part of the way. Prince Geordo, Prince Alan, Lord Nicol, you still have work to do, don't you? Please get into your carriages and go to work.

Geordo: In that case, I will also ride with her for part of the way and go to work.

Mary: Oh? But the carriage won't hold so many people.

Geordo: Alright. Then Keith, please get off.

Keith: Huh, why would I?! This is the carriage home to Claes Manor, I can't not ride it! So, no.

Mary: Lord Nicol, Prince Alan, Prince Geordo appears to feel lonely if he rides alone in a carriage, so please ride with him.

Geordo: Eh, what are you talking about, Mary?! This is not…

Nicol: Oh, is that so? I understand, Geordo. Let's ride in the same carriage.

Geordo: W-Wait! That's not it! Nicol, and you too Alan, why are you grabbing my arms?!

Mary: Prince Alan, please take him away.

Alan: …Okay.

Geordo: Alan, how much did she discipline you?! Wait! Katarina is my fiancéeeeee…

Geordo says this while being taken away.

Katarina, Keith, Mary, and Sophia ride in the carriage going to Claes Manor.

Mary is making a triumphant face.

Katarina continues talking about her trip inside the carriage.

Katarina feels exhausted and starts dozing off. Mary offers to lend her shoulder so she can sleep. Katarina gladly accepts and falls asleep.

Fortune Lover 2 Dream

Katarina is dreaming about Acchan playing Fortune Lover 2.

Acchan is playing Cyrus's route. Katarina finds it timely since she has just returned from Cyrus's hometown.

Maria is telling Cyrus she can defeat "it" with light magic.

Cyrus tells Maria he will protect her so she won't have a single scratch.

Katarina figures it must be a battle scene. Cyrus and Maria are saying mostly the same things as during the Cezar scene before.

FL!Katarina appears and tells the two that Cerberus will crush them.

FL!Katarina makes a dragon appear.

Katarina is surprised to see the dragon they defeated a few days ago.

There is only one dragon, but Cerberus is on the enemy side.

The dragon and Cerberus attack Maria and Cyrus. Maria fires light magic at them.

Katarina recognizes the spell Maria used to fight the dragon. She saw that scene in reality.

Maria defeats Cerberus and the dragon with her light magic. FL!Katarina is arrested.

Katarina realizes their mission in Victoire was the Cyrus event just before his happy end.

Katarina wakes up shouting "Aaah, it was close~". Mary, Sophia, and Keith are surprised and ask her is something is wrong. Katarina replies she was just sleeptalking.

Katarina realizes that without her knowing, a doom flag was awaiting her during her mission. She has neglected thinking about her doom flags because of the dark organization. Things could have turned ugly. She needs to brace herself since she still has doom flags awaiting her.

Katarina shouts that she will do her best. Keith, Mary, and Sophia suggest that she go to sleep early because she is undoubtedly tired.

Katarina parts with Mary and Sophia.

Katarina has returned to the manor. She initially planned to have a mental meeting to think about measures against her doom flags, but since she is tired, she decides she needs to rest first.

Katarina goes to bed and instantly falls asleep.

??? POV

T/N: This scene is really unclear to me because I really can't tell who the person is or what they are talking about.

The POV person hears lots of distant screams. They regain consciousness in the darkness.

When they look around, everything has changed. They guess a lot of time must have passed. They wonder how much time has passed since they were asleep, and also what happened to "that".

They will gather their consciousness and fill their body with it.

They will return to the surface / this world to confirm what happened to "that" and what these screams were about. To keep their promise to that person.

#hamefura light novel #hamefura #my next life as a villainess: all routes leads to doom #katarina claes #raphael wolt #cyrus lanchester #laura hamefura #sora smith #haru kaburagi #maria campbell #larna smith #geordo stuart #keith claes #mary hunt #sophia ascart #nicol ascart #alan stuart

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shroomaz · 11 months ago

Text

"No One Else but You..." (Part 1)

RISE! FUTURE DONNIE x GN! Reader Series

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! Hope everyone has a lovely morning/night to start the new year off. And speaking of starting off- here is the first chapter of "No One Else but You..." ENJOYYY!!!

If you haven't read the introduction- that's fine! But if you do want to here you are:

You gasp for air as you wake from your slumber.

You had a nightmare...but can't recall what it was about. Ah, the typical "I had a nightmare- but immediately forgot what it was about." A classic...

Stretching your arms, cracking your back, climbing out of bed, and putting on some slippers. Yawning in the process, you pick up your phone, looking at the time.

9:30

....CRAP!

"I'M LATE- !" you started rushing around the room gathering something "professional" to wear and tossing your once comfortably warm pjs across the room.

It was hard enough that you left home for college to continue your "most precious" dream career... if only it was so easy. Once you got to California- it was like putting a goldfish into a pool of hungry piranhas. You had no idea where to go, no idea what to do, and most importantly no one to comfort you whilst you were gone.

You left New York to California hoping for something greener on the other side. Hoping to be able to see more things and get more experiences, but of course, life had another plan to drop the ball on you.

Ah, the feeling...the feeling of the young naive you wandering around town with hopeful sparkles in your eyes...those sparkles had dimmed a long time ago since then.

This was your final chance to get something done right. This job interview would be the pin in what you always wanted. That is-- if the traffic would hurry up.

Once you've arrived; you rush up the office stairs, holding your files and resumes in hand, some papers trying to fly away and you tripping on your feet.

People giving you looks as you kept running into them, with your apologies following after.

FINALLY! You made it to the front desk.

"Um...hello there," you said to the desk lady typing on her computer before looking at you with her glasses sliding to her nose and with a... not-so-welcoming look in her eyes.

"Yes...? What is your business for today?" She replied to your question, almost bitterly.

"I'm sorry for coming in so late- but I'm here for the 9 o'clock interview. For the opening position?" You were nearly about to ramble to the lady before she cut you off coldly.

"That position has already been filled." She continued to look back at her computer, typing and TRYING to ignore you...but you couldn't take that. Nope. Not today.

You place your papers on the desk, leaning in and holding your hand to her in confusion. "What do you mean it's been filled? I was told that there was no one applying for the role and that I would be qualified if I showed all my papers!"

The lady looked up at you and slowly moved your hand down before leaning in. "You were too late then..." she leaned back before sighing; "Someone else came in before you...you win some you lose some sweetie. The time you moved on..." She went back to typing.

...

You didn't know what to do...everything had gone down the drain. Whoever told you that being a regular citizen would be this hard...? No one that's for sure...

When these times were tough you remembered home...

"HOME"

You want to remember that feeling; coming home from school and walking with April to the sewers to greet your green friends...

Mikey, Raph, Leo...Donnie. All the chaos that would run rampant around the lair, the Jupiter Jim marathons, and most importantly- the weekly sleepovers that you would have with them.

They were the closest thing to family that you had! And with Donnie...you were close.

After all, he was the first one you met, the first REAL person to come into your life...it all began that day at the rooftop where he "rescued" you from the purple dragons back in high school...it was funny when you look back at it and how he TRIED to convince you that he was not a talking turtle and some guy in cosplay...but you knew better. What human calls other people 'fellow human' and says they do 'regular human activities'?

However, he slightly eased up when you didn't fall for it...and you kind of relieved him and freaked him out when you weren't phased by it-

It was a hassle sometimes...with his teasing and sarcasm that would erupt from him. Those precisely drawn eyebrow raises he would give you when you were just a little slow to catch onto something...but you knew at the end of the day, he was always there for you when you called or texted.

The weekly sleepovers with the guys soon just became you and Donnie making a fort for you to sleep in his room. Or rather- you falling asleep in his lab whilst he worked on something.

Better yet! You would wake up in his bed and he would sleep in his work chair in his lab...

It was sad to see that fade away like a distant memory...and that you had broken apart since then...

Ever since that fight that you had with him on the phone, you both couldn't talk to each other again. It was too painful to look back and remember the words that you both said to each other that night.

The falling of friends happens sometimes...but losing someone closer is another.

Scrolling through your old photos; you couldn't help but feel the slight grief when scrolling and still seeing the pictures of you and Donnie. It was so very few when you caught him with a smile... it was usually a scowl or straight face...but then you stopped on an old photo that Donnie had taken himself on your phone.

The night where you had fallen asleep on him, trying to survive to midnight on New Years, his hand on your head and there he was...with a slight smile on his face.

He had explained to you that morning that it was a "New Year's Gift" and you teased him for it...which he then "threatened" to delete if you were to abuse your power against him.

With Donnie...you never knew what you were going to get...but you knew that he was there. And that's what mattered...and in his way; he cared.

Tears slowly started to fill the corners of your eyes, looking at his for a moment that felt like forever...it was a brief moment considering you were in public on a sidewalk bench-

You missed him...and you wondered if he missed you.

*ding-ding* - your phone had a random number notification. Assuming it was junk mail- you went to delete it.

Until you read the message.

"Y/N"

"Come back."

"We miss you..."

(END)

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt donnie #rise donnie #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie x oc #rottmnt donatello x reader #future donnie x reader #rise future donnie #rise future au #I love some y/n time yall #trying to keep things open for you :3

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ladykailitha · 6 months ago

Text

Sweet Home Indiana Part 3

Shit! I can't believe I forgot to post this this morning! I don't know where my head was, honestly.

I'm reaching a point where I'm running out of plot so I don't think this story is going to be longer than 10 chapters max. A lot of the second half of the movie takes place over months as the main character gets ready to marry the rich bachelor, only for her to find out that her husband signed the divorce papers and she forgot ON HER WEDDING DAY (as in she was informed on her wedding day that she forgot). Which really won't work for this story.

So yeah, I suspect to be finished with this story sooner rather than later.

Eddie does have to do a lot of grovelling but he unfortunately gets worse before he gets better. He's really REALLY dumb in this, okay?

Part 1 Part 2

****

Eddie watched Steve walk away and he gently put the brownie back into the box.

Fuck.

His stomach churned as he swallowed down the bite in his mouth. He had forgotten so much about the man he once swore to love until the end of his days. But he remembered that look of absolute betrayal before the mask dropped.

So Eddie did what he was good at when times got tough, he ran. He was supposed to have been trying to convince Steve to come with him, but he had fucked it up so badly there was no coming back from that.

The worst part is that there had been a few times in the last decade where Eddie could have healed what was between them, that he could have reached out and gotten back in touch. But Eddie had ran each time.

He wouldn’t say each time ended in a rushed marriage, but two of them definitely did.

Eddie would think about reaching out only to hear about how well Steve was doing from Dustin or Max and how happy he was and Eddie would run out a marry the first guy who would fuck him.

The other times he would think about contacting Steve and some small trouble (or not so small in the case of his band breaking up) would crop up and he be scrambling to keep his head above water.

Steve was thriving here in Hawkins and wasn’t that just a kick to the head. He had a little bakery that was doing well, Robin was here, and if all the times the kids called Eddie were any indication, Steve was still on speaking terms with all of them.

He needed a fucking drink. He didn’t care that it was only a little after noon, he needed to turn off his brain. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the bakery.

“I thought I recognized the van,” a warm voice said. “Were you gonna tell me you were in town?”

Eddie looked around before he spotted his Uncle Wayne, leaning up against the side of the building.

“Wayne!” he cried and threw his arms around his neck.

Wayne hugged him back. “It’s good to see you kid.”

“Of course I was going to tell you I was in town,” Eddie scoffed. “I was just trying to take care of something first.”

Wayne looked behind him at the bakery and raised an eyebrow. “You coming back to make an honest man out him or are you setting to break his heart?”

“Why are you on his side?” Eddie whined. “Yes, I said some pretty stupid shit, but he wasn’t blameless in all the fuckery that went down.”

Wayne’s expression softened. “I know.” He put his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “Come on, I’ll buy you lunch and we can talk about why you’re in town.”

“Mmk,” Eddie said weakly, letting Wayne lead him down the street to the nearby diner.

****

Steve was hyperventilating. He couldn’t do this. He wasn’t strong enough. Eddie Munson was the biggest asshole in the world and he still looked like sex on legs.

That funny little lopping walk he did when he wanted to move fast but didn’t want to run.

The long hair in waves around his face. His lean body stuffed into the tightest pair of jeans Steve had ever seen and he used to wear tight jeans for fuck’s sake. The god damn eyeliner on his big doe eyes.

And peaking out of the leather jacket were even more tattoos. Which it made sense considering he was some hot shot tattoo artist up in Seattle. But still! It wasn’t fair that the man who broke his heart wasn’t fat and balding at thirty. Nooooo...he had to come back to blue his balls as well as break his heart.

“Do I need to break his balls?” Robin asked coming back from the freezer. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared. Not at Steve specifically, but glared at the situation in general.

Steve gave a kind of hiccuping laugh and his lungs filled with the air he desperately needed.

“No,” he said with a broken smile. “I handled it. I’m just going to send it to Hal to make sure he’s not trying to take me to the cleaners or some other bullshit.”

Robin nodded. Hal Peterson was their business attorney, but he’d know enough to make sure Steve wasn’t being shafted by the whole ordeal.

“So what’s got you around the twist?” she asked.

“He looks hotter now than he did before he left,” Steve whined. “He’s supposed to balding and fat and falling apart at the seams. But no...he’s leaner, still with those long ridiculous curls, and better put together than I was.” He waved a hand at himself. His hair was greasy from standing around a hot oven, his hands and apron were covered in flour, he had frosting on his nose.

Robin came over and gave him a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and he let out a little sob.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” she murmured. “Are you going to be okay?”

He let out a shuddering sigh. “Probably not until he blows out of town again.”

Robin kissed the top of his head. “Let’s go out to the Hideout tonight. The shop will be fine. We handled today, we can handle tomorrow, too.”

Steve let out a shuddering sigh and nodded into her stomach.

“Good,” she stepped back and cupped his cheeks. “I know this sucks but you are the strongest, most capable person I’ve ever met. A weaker man would crumble under all this, but that person is not you. You understand me?”

He let out another shuddering sigh. “Thanks, Robs. I needed that.”

“I know you did, dingus,” she said fondly. “So lets knock today out of the ballpark, yeah?”

“Yeah!”

****

“I was hoping,” Eddie was telling Wayne, “that I could roll into town, get him to sign the divorce papers, and spend the rest of the week with you. But no, he’s being a stubborn ass.”

Wayne snorted. “You always did aim too high.”

“I thought he’d want to be rid of me,” Eddie huffed. “I’ve done nothing but run around all over this god forsaken country just to put some distance between me and him. I’ve hurt him in every possible way. I thought he was just wanting closure you know, calling me into town like he did.”

Wayne furrowed his brow. “He called you into to town?”

Eddie nodded and placed his chin on his hands on the table. “I was a bit of an ass about it because I didn’t explain things to Chrissy, but yeah. He told me that if I wanted to divorce him so bad, I’d have to come back to Hawkins and do the job proper.”

The waitress came set Wayne’s food down and Eddie sat up so she could do the same for him.

Wayne waited until she was gone before he turned back to Eddie. “When you told me you were marrying Chrissy, I was more than a little surprised.”

Eddie rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “I know. I have my reasons, I just can’t tell you yet. But I promise it’s for a good reason.”

“He’s done really well for himself here,” Wayne said softly.

“And I haven’t?” Eddie spat out a tad too bitterly.

Wayne scowled. “Did I say you hadn’t, boy?” he snapped.

Eddie’s head reared back from the shock of his normally mild mannered uncle to snap at him. He shook his head, his lip beginning to quiver.

“I’m on your side,” Wayne said, to Eddie’s scoff. “I know I keep hyping up Steve, but I remember what you two were like when things were good, son. You were incandescent. But I look at you now and that sparkle has gone. I want to be happy for you, but first you’ve got to show me that you’re happy for yourself.”

“You don’t think I’m happy?” Eddie asked in confusion. “I have my own tattoo shop, I’m going to marry a great girl, and I’m still friends with most of the members of my band. What’s not to be happy about?”

Wayne shrugged. “You tell me.”

Eddie frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, old man.”

Wayne dug his thumbs into his belt and licked his top lip nice and slow. Eddie ignored him and just stabbed at his food.

“Kiddo,” Wayne said, shaking his head, “you’re still in love with that boy even with these ten years gone.” His chin jutted up to point to Eddie’s food.

Eddie froze with his fork half way to his mouth and then looked down at his plate. It took him a full minute to realize what Wayne was talking about.

“Oh.”

He had ordered the breakfast platter. It had hash browns, scrambled eggs, ham, bacon, and sausage with a side of chocolate chip pancakes. But Eddie didn’t like hash browns or sausage. He would give them to Steve who did.

He thought about the little box that was sat next to him on the bench and the brownie Steve had concocted for him so long ago.

Eddie swallowed thickly, his stomach turning sour as he stared at the hash browns and sausage he was never going to eat.

“Eat up,” Wayne said with a soft smile. “You don’t want it to go to waste.” He scooped up the hash browns and put them on his plate and then stabbed both sausage.

He dipped the first sausage into his over easy eggs, ignoring Eddie’s turmoil. At least for the moment.

Eddie brought the fork all the way to his mouth and chewed, not really tasting it.

He ate through most of the food that way, until it came to the pancakes. He moaned happily.

“Seattle just doesn’t make pancakes the way Benny does,” he said softly.

Wayne’s smile was no less tender this time, but infinitely more fond. “You could always come back to Hawkins. You can set up a tattoo shop anywhere, so why not here?”

Eddie shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that to Steve. Divorce his ass and then move back into town with Chrissy in tow, shoving it in his face that I moved on.”

“I can see that,” Wayne murmured. “I just miss my boy is all and would love to see you more often than I get.”

Eddie took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know you do. And I would like you to meet Chrissy before the wedding.”

“I’d like that too.”

****

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Tag List:

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

2- @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie

3- @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

4- @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

5- @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

6- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

7- @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

8- @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @blackpanzy

9- @amazing-spiderkeys @oldpinghai @raisedbylibrarians @kultiras @swimmingbirdrunningrock

10- @steddie-as-they-go @captain--low @micheledawn1975 @thespaceantwhowrites @mac-attack19

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rom com au

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lunamadhatter99 · 1 year ago

Text

All for The Cameras

Chapter 3

Finnick Odair x Fem!reader

It's time. That's all I'm gonna say.

If you like it and want to be added to the tag list, comment here.

Have a good day, loves! ❤️

Chapter summary: the plan is in motion.

Chapter Warnings: prostitution, drug use (on the bad guy, but still),

Tag list.

@guacam011y

@justtrying2getby

@idontevenknow1359

@alexandra-001

@bambikitten

@maggiecc

@redh00dsbf

@haneybunny

@1-800-styles

@sisiking99

@merromimo

@yourdailymemedelivery

@regsg18

@gordorio

@bambikitten

@gracieeleanorr

@shev3nom

@honethatty12

@savingprivatecass

@erindiggory

@martahabla

It's been a month since the talk with Plutarch... and I still can't believe it.

The rebellion is actually happening, district 13 still exists!

These are the thoughts that keep my mind sane. Plutarch said we need to be careful, he might have a plan... but we need people we can trust.

Of course.

I try to think of some people that would gladly help and that can be also trusted while I walk into the building Cal lives in. Unfortunately the rebellion hasn't properly started and I still have "duty" to do.

I take a deep breath as I enter the elevator and close my eyes for a moment, enough time for another person to enter with me. And I already know who this is.

"Finnick," I nod my head greeting him and open my eyes as the doors close.

"Sweetheart," he sends me one of his charming smile and nods his head too.

The ride to the last floor is pretty long and slow, it gives time for a small, awkward silence to fall for a while before Finnick speaks up.

"I heard... you know." He says, hands behind his back casually.

"Everybody knows apparently..." I sigh.

"Yeah... people can't stop talking about it. The talk of the town."

"If he wanted it to be a surprise, well, oops" I roll my eyes.

"He's been..." he pauses for a moment, shakes his head and looks up with an angry smile.

"What?" I press, "more possessive? More obsessed?"

"Yeah, since you left for the Victory tour he..." he starts, but I cut him off immediately.

"No, he's been like this since that day," I say, I feel him looking at me, but I don't have the heart of looking back.

"Do.... do you think he heard it?" He hesitantly asks, lowering his voice too, "there's no way he could've heard..."

"He must've. That's the only explanation." I tell him, lowering my own voice. "You chose the worse time of all."

"Well, I'm sorry... okay? I... wasn't thinking," he apologies.

"Clearly." I take another deep breath before speaking again, "you know sometimes I try to come out with as many way of killing him I can. Each of them ends up with me getting caught, because unfortunately he is who he is... but it helps."

"How many did you get last time?" He asks, a hint of an amused smile on his face.

"I think... uh... 6," I say, "oh no, 7... almost forgot about the spoon one."

He actually laughs and it helps me too, knowing that in the end we're on the same boat.

"I think... 13 would've been better." He says, he kind of emphasises the number. That makes my head turn to him, him already looking at me with a serious expression.

Could it be..?

So I dare ask.

"Did you talk to Plutarch?"

I see him opening his mouth to answer, but before anything could come out of it, the elevator's doors open and we are greeted by Cal himself ready with two glasses of wine.

"Welcome back, my lovelies." He cheers and he hands us the drinks, "finally all together. C'mon, c'mon."

As we enter his huge apartment I try to look at Finnick to get that answer, he does look at me, but I can't understand.

"Alright, let's sit for a bit, uh?" Cal lead us to his living room, motioning to a huge wooden table... with only two seats...

Cal take a seat and looks at us, expecting.

"Uhm... should I go get another seat or..?" Finnick tries to take it lightly, but one thing is worse than having to spend the night with Cal Kingslay... not knowing what Cal Kingslay has in store.

"Oh no need, c'mon Finnick sit." Cal tells him and Finnick obeys, looking at me confused.

"And.. what about me?" I ask, also trying to play it cool.

"Oh before you sit," Cal stands up to come up to me, it takes everything in me not to take a step back... or even run, "I got a little gift for you. It's in the bedroom."

"Aw.. that's sweet, but you really shouldn't have." I say, hoping he doesn't feel the tremble in my voice.

"We have to make up for lost time, sweetheart. Now go, then come back here." He instructs.

"Sure..." I fake smile at him, steal a quick glance at a tense Finnick and head to the bedroom.

The bedroom, just as huge, hosts a big round bed, a small couch in front of it and nothing much else. I notice a package on the bed, I go to open and find... of course...

I scoff as I look at the deep red lingerie set he bought me. I put it on, constantly rolling my eyes, the only act of defiance I can afford, I wear the matching rope and head back to the living room.

"Oh look at her!" Cal exclaims as I near, "I knew that was your color. Isn't she a beauty, Finnick?"

"Yes." Is all Finnick says, his eyes fixed on me with a loving, yet sad, expression in them.

Cal suddenly grabs my hand and pull me to him, making me sit in his lap.

"Alright, now let's chat a little." He says as his hands caress my thighs and sides, whatever he could touch, "I really want to know what happened on this tour."

"Well... nothing much, really. Usual tour... with two victors, but the usual," I laugh it off, putting my hands on Cal's in a poor attempt of keeping them steadier.

I look at Finnick, who's even more tense than before, eyes locked on Cal's hands on me.

"So nothing happened?" Cal presses, grip getting tighter, " nothing? Not even with Peeta Mellark?"

I actually laugh at that.

"With Peeta?" I ask, "why?"

"At the party, at the President's residence, the way he touched you..." he holds me tighter.

"He just wanted to dance, Cal... he's so in love with Katniss, he doesn't look at anyone else." I try to chuckle to make him see how absurd his assumptions are.

"Then why not ask any other woman there?" He keeps holding me.

I look at Finnick, who's ready to jump into action, but at the same time knows he can't do anything.

"Because he's shy." I say, "he might seem like an outgoing guy, but he's really not. He asked me probably because I'm his friend. " I try to stress the word 'friend' to make him understand.

"Yeah, I got to talk to him for a few minutes when they were in 4, he didn't talk much, only awkwardly smiled and let out just a few words." Finnick lies, and thanks to that Cal lets go a little, going back at caressing my thighs. I look at Finnick grateful and he slightly nods.

"You have a talent in making people feel at ease with you, don't you?" Cal compliments and rest his chin on my shoulder, "I really missed you. Did you miss me too?"

"Oh, but of course," I fake another smile as he starts to kiss my neck.

His kisses get more heated as he goes, I look everywhere except Finnick, I can't stand it, not after last time.

"Mmh, fuck," he breaths out, "you smell so good, my sweetness, let's go to the bedroom, shall we, lovelies?"

Cal doesn't give me any time to stand up, he picks me up and, bridal style, he takes me to the bedroom, followed by Finnick.

Cal gently puts me on the bed, goes and sits down on the small couch.

"Take your clothes of, Finnick, leave your underwear on," he instructs, getting comfortable on the couch.

Finnick does as he was told, standing only in his underwear. He's surely been working out while I was gone...

"I want you on your knees in front of her," Cal orders him, "and you, my precious princess, spread those legs for him, okay?"

Finnick comes kneel in front of me, I spread my legs to let him in, avoiding his eyes, that, I know are on me.

"Oh that's good." Cal praises, "now, touch her."

I softly gasp at feeling Finnick's hand on my thigh.

"Not too much, Finnick, you know the rules. No kissing unless I say so."

Finnick only nods and keeps on caressing my tigh bringing it a little closer so his face lightly touches it.

"Look at him, sweetheart, look at him,"

This is how these meetings usually go: Cal tells us how he wants to see us, what he wants us to do, sometimes he just likes to watch and sometimes he like to "play" too.

I don't know if he's so delusional to think we too enjoy this or he just loves control so much that he doesn't care at all.

That's how the "date" went, all night.

Cal enjoying his power over us, he particularly enjoyed teasing Finnick.

"How does it feel like? Knowing she'll never be yours?" He would ask. "You wouldn't be able to touch her if it wasn't for me," "You'll never see her unless I say so." And so on...

"I'll see you soon, my loves," Cal says, leading us back to the elevator, his hand in mine.

"It's never going to be too soon," Finnick's charming smile seems to convince him.

"Never," I agree as we're standing in front of the elevator.

Cal spins me around and kisses me. I'm so stunned, I don't even reciprocate until he squeezes my waist.

"I could never get enough of that," Cal humms, letting me go.

"Feeling's mutual," I say turning around, grateful for the doors to open in that moment.

"Bye bye" he waves and we do the same, keeping up our fake smiles until the doors finally close.

"Oh fuck..." I let out a sigh of relief and unconsciously lean against Finnick's taller frame, who gently wraps an arm around me.

"Feeling's mutual," Finnick says, sighing too.

"Okay... uh... listen," I start, pulling away from his embrace, "we do need to find a way to talk. This ride might be long, but it's not enough..."

"I know... I might have an idea, but you'll have to trust me," he tells me confidently.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Trust me, alright?"

I sigh, but nod.

"Main things... uh... did you talk to Plutarch then?"

"That I did, asked for my company, I thought he was one of the usual stuff, but thankfully it wasn't." He tells me, "you?"

"Same thing, do you know anyone else... knowing?" I ask.

"There are lots of victors who might be involved, but I can't say for sure..." he speaks quietly, "maybe Johanna..."

"Definitely believable," I comment, "you know, I think Haymitch too.. both him and Plutarch said the same exact thing to me and... it just makes sense."

"What about the lovebirds?" He says making quotations with his fingers as he says 'lovebirds'.

"I don't think so..." I shake my head, "Katniss is too focused on wanting to protect her family, to think of a rebellion."

"Alright... it's still a start, don't you think?" He smiles at me.

"Yeah..." I say bitterly.

"What's that tone?" He's concern now.

"Nothing... I just don't want to keep my hopes up, you know?" I look down at my hands, avoiding his eyes.

"Hey... C'mon, look at me, Y/n." He gently takes my hand and pulls me to him.

I reluctantly, but not so much, look up at him, at his reassuring eyes. Sometimes all I want to do is get lost in them and never find my way back, but it's a luxury I can't afford, not right now.

I shake my head turning away from him.

"Listen... I want to hope we might have a shot, okay? I really do... it's just hard after everything," I say, bouncing my leg.

"I know," he sighs, "but, I mean, we've been hoping this whole time... might as well keep it up."

"I guess..." I smile at him, losing myself again in his eyes, I see him leaning closer, but I stop him, I have to. "Don't."

"I'm sorry..." he awkwardly smiles, "don't push me away like this." He whispers, cautiously taking my hand again, "Please."

"We can't... uh... I don't feel the same way... and... you should..." I stutter out, focusing on our hands instead of his face.

"You know you can't like to me, I know you all too well, love," he chuckles and I shake my head.

"We can't," I say and luckily the doors open and I rush out leaving Finnick behind.

I walk as fast as I can to the car, hoping to get home faster so I can freely cry and scream.

Once I get home I jump on my bed, burying my face in the pillows and just let everything out.

Of all people... why him? Love is so unfair...

No... no, not love... this is not love... I'm not in love with him and he is not in love with me.

That was just a trauma response... yes... yes. Nothing more.

He can't actually love me. If he actually did he could get killed because of it... but if it's not actual love, he's safe... yeah, yeah, he's safe. Nothing to worry about...

This is all I think about as I cry myself to sleep.

----------

"You said what?" I almost yell at Plutarch, almost because I don't want to risk being heard.

"He has to trust me. I can't just say 'leave her alone people will forget about her', can I?" Plutarch sighs, pouring whiskey into my glass, which I gladly take.

"I guess not," I let out a sigh, tapping nervously my glass, "what if you're right, though? What if they actually arrive to hate her so much to kill her themselves?"

"Do you think that would happen?" He asks, knowing already my answer.

"No..." I sit back down, "no, sorry, I'm just... scared shitless, alright?"

He nods understanding.

"I need to ask you one thing, miss L/n, and I need you to be honest," He says and I nod for him to ask away, "do you trust me?"

I look at him properly, trying to see if in his eyes there's even a tiny bit of malice.

"I do." I say.

"Good. There will be some things you shouldn't know, not because you might get caught, but because some things will require a genuine reaction from you," he explains with a serious tone.

"I understand." I nod, "Yeah, no problem. I just hope I would be able to help despite Cal" I say his name with a disgusted noise.

"We'll deal with that too," he reassures me with a small smile.

"Thanks," I say drinking some whiskey, "this thing will never happen too soon."

"I know,"

"May I ask... why do you trust me?" I ask, "I mean, to everyone's eyes I'm Snow's protégé... why do you trust me?"

"Haymitch Abernathy doesn't just trust anyone." Is his simple answer, "I'm sure you know that."

I nod, satisfied with the answer.

"They will send more peacekeepers to 12 tomorrow." He tells me.

"Yeah? I'm sure they're eager to start with the punishments" I comment bitterly.

"Yep."

"Katniss won't just stand there and watch." I warn him.

"I know," he says confidently.

I scan his face, he's not worried about it, he's certain and confident as if he planned it.

"You hope she does something," I accuse.

"Haymitch was right about you," he lightly chuckles, "you are smart."

"Don't change the subject, Heavensbee. This is an opportunity, isn't it?" I ask again, he nods, "if Katniss is the fighter I know she is... you'll get your opportunity."

"We'll get our opportunity," he corrects me raising his glass and I do the same.

"I hope you're right about this rebellion, Heavensbee. I really hope." I say and take a sip of whiskey.

And Katniss did something, indeed. It helped that her best friend was the one getting punished. The fact that both Haymitch and Peeta intervened was even better apparently, according to Plutarch. This is one of the parts of the plan I can't know apparently, but he seemed confident so I trust him...

Hope.

We're all depending on that.

-----------

"We'll finally be able to talk tonight," Finnick whispers to me as we stand in the elevator.

"How?" I ask, confused about what he has in mind.

He smiles and shows me what's inside a little bag he brought. A bottle of wine.

"You're gonna drug him?" I ask shocked.

"A tiny bit," he chuckles, "he'll also need to eat this," he shows me a small box of chocolates, "the drug will activate with both, the wine alone is ineffective."

"Yeah... because not drinking would feel suspicious, but we never eats so if we say no to the chocolate... no problem at all," I reason, "genius."

"I have my moments," he smiles proudly and I return the smile.

"I thought..." he clears his voice, "I thought we could also talk about... us?"

"Finnick..." I warn.

"We would have time..." he insists.

"There's no us, okay? Stop it." I sternly say.

"Keeo telling yourself that," he whispers.

From there the ride is silent until we arrive at Cal's apartment.

"Good evening, loves!" He greets us as usual, "how are my favourite people?"

"A little tired, you know, Snow wanted me to check some old records" I lie, not completely I really am tired, but of him.

"I'm actually fresh as a flower," Finnick starts, "I actually would like to celebrate,"

"Oh really?" Cal asks and grabs my hand to pull me to him.

"Yeah, I found this old bottle of fine wine in my home and I thought 'what better time to drink it if not with Cal Kingslay?', you know?" He takes the bottle out and soon after the box.

"And that?" Cal's intrigued.

"Oh this is a special gift for you, to thank you for your generosity," Finnick's ability to lie and charm him leave me stunned everytime.

"Aw that's sweet of you," Cal takes both the bottle and the box, "we'll share the box, loves."

"Oh, Cal, I'm sorry, but I'll have to gently decline, I ate so much today. Maybe later, okay?" I use the sweetest voice I can as he puts the objects on the table. I try to ignore how Finnick's jaw tense when I do this.

"Whatever you say, princess, as long as you say my name like that..." he turns to me wrapping both arms around my waist to pull me completely against his body.

"Alright, big guy," I try to nonchalantly pull away from him, "let's toast, shall we?"

"Of course!" Cal exclaims, taking the bottle and sending a grateful nod at Finnick. He goes to pour three glasses, "to what should we toast?"

"How about the Quartel Quell?" Finnick asks as he takes the glass from Cal's hand.

"Love that!" Cal cheers handing me a glass too, "here, princess."

"Thank you, Cal," I say, using his name again for good measure and he grins at that.

"To the third Quarter Quell!" Cal raises his glass and we quickly follow.

One each of us took a sip of wine, Finnick goes to open the box, offering it to Cal.

"Here."

"Oh so kind," Cal smirks, "you don't mind if I take two, do you?"

"Oh, but of course not, take as many as you want," Finnick gives him his usual charming smile as Cal takes two chocolates.

"You know I love sweets," Cal says putting both candy in his mouth, "mmh! So good!"

"Old recipe," Finnick explains.

I watch the scene, tense, I hope Finnick's plan works...

Not even moment later, Cal goes to sit holding his head.

"Hey, something wrong?" I fake concern.

"No... no I'm good," Cal tries to stand up again, but apparently his legs can't hold him up.

"Alright, let's get you to bed. Maybe you're just a little more tired than you think," I say, he let me help him to bed.

"Fuck..." he groans, once he's laying down, "I was really in the mood,"

"Don't worry, rest a bit, and if you feel like it later... we're here," I reassure him, but actually hoping he won't.

"Thank you, my love," he says drifting off to sleep.

I cautiously walks back out of the room and back to Finnick.

He looks at me with expectation written all over his face.

"He's asleep," I whisper, with the biggest smile.

"Yes!" He whisper-shouts.

"God... I wish we could do it every single time," I sigh relieved.

"Unfortunately he would get suspicious, but it's a nice dream," Finnick agrees.

"How much time do you think we have?" I ask sitting with him at the table.

"About... 2 hour and a half... maybe more since he took two chocolates," he explains.

"That's great... this might mean we wouldn't even have to do anything at all..." I chuckle and Finnick does too.

"Alright..." he lowers his voice, "I'm pretty sure, a very good part of the Victors are part of this thing"

"Well, Haymitch for sure... but I don't think he will let Katniss and Peeta know anything," I tell him.

"Why not?" He asks frowning.

"Katniss is basically supervised everywhere she goes... it would be too risky..." I explain simply, "do you know what happened today?"

"What?"

"New Peacemakers arrived in 12," I start, "Plutarch suggested more severe punishments,"

"What? Why?" Finnick almost exclaims, there's a deeper frown on his face now.

"It's a way to let himself in, Snow will never trust him otherwise." I sigh, "it sucks, I know. If Snow grows suspicious, we're fucked."

"I know," he sounds defeated.

"But the thing is," I start again, "this, according to Plutarch, created a perfect opportunity. He was so confident today when I saw him leaving a meeting with Snow, I think the plan is in motion."

" I can't fucking believe," he genuinely smiles, "it's really happening... and I mean, can you believe 13 is still alive?"

"I know!" I exclaim in a whisper, I wish I could just shout it sometimes, "it's crazy."

"You know... for the first time I saw some hope in Mags and not just defeat."

I smile at that, I know how important Mags is for him. When I was assigned to assisting district 4's mentors, Mags was always so kind to us... treating us like family.

"That's really nice to hear," I softly say, gently putting a hand on top of his.

He waits a moment before covering my hand with his other one, stroking it gently. I really should pull away, but this gentle, genuine touch is something I haven't felt in a long time. I look up, Finnick's already looking my way with a soft smile.

"You know, I can't wait." He says.

"For..." I clear my voice, "for what?"

"Finally kiss you." He simply states.

"Finnick... for the millionth time..."

"You don't feel the same... yeah, yeah, yeah." He interrupts me, standing up and taking me with him, "you can lie to yourself, but not to me. What I feel for you is-"

"Is not real." It's my turn to interrupt him.

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" He challenges.

"Oh god..." I let out a frustrated sigh, "it's just trauma response, okay? You don't love me, Finn. And I don't love you."

"Okay... so... why didn't you pull away yet and you're letting me, basically, cuddle you?" He challenges again, this actually makes me notice how close we are and how his hands are gently caressing and massaging my body.

I instantly pull away, earning a small laugh from him.

"You really need to stop it," I say, to convince myself, rather than him.

"But you're just so beautiful," he smirks, but it not like Cal's smirk... it's playful, he's not making me uncomfortable, he's just teasing, I know that if he actually made me uncomfortable he would stop right away.

"Alright, stop it." I can't help but let out a chuckle.

"You don't believe yourself either... C'mon." He walks closer to me, "dance with me."

"There's not music and I don't think putting something on will help our case with the sleeping beauty," I remind him.

"Just dance with me, c'mon, love," he holds his hand out for me to take and I do. I let him pull me to him and slowly moving to an imaginary rhythm.

He holds me to me him with so much care I could just melt here and now. I have to admit, it does feel nice.

I just keep reminding myself that it's not love, but two people comforting each other... right?

Right?

As I let Finnick lead, my mind can't help but go to next week event... the announcement of the third Quarter Quell... and my engagement.

I try to shake away the thought and focus on Finnick's body close to mine, how his taller frame is not imposing or constricting, but protective.

I try to focus on the fact that Plutarch's plan is probably going to work... hope.

All I focus about: hope and Finnick.

I'm afraid the two aren't so different for me.

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

The crowd is cheering like never before.

It's the announcement of the third Quarter Quell, after all.

I watch Snow taking his place in front of all Capitol's citizens, I sit with the rest of 'Capitol's elite' in the back, waiting for the big theme of this year's games.

I can't help but slightly bounce my leg, knowing what's coming after that.

"Are you okay, my sweetness?" Cal's voice startles me, I almost forgot he was next to me.

"Yeah," I force out a smile, "just excited to discover the theme of this year,"

"Plutarch didn't tell you?" He asks taken aback, "I thought he wanted you as an assistant, maybe he didn't have the chance yet... I hope I didn't ruin any surprise,"

"Oh, don't worry, Cal," I say, "I'll try to act surprised."

He smiles at me and I now try to contain my excitement, real excitement. Plutarch did find a way of creating chances for me to stay away from Cal.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Snow starts and my attention is back on him, "This is the 75th year of the Hunger Games" he announces and che crowd cheers and screams, "and it was written in the charter of the Games that every 25 years, there would be a Quarter Quell to keep fresh for each new generation the memory of those who died in the uprising against The Capitol. Each Quarter Quell is distinguished by Games of a special significance. And now on this, the 75th anniversary of pur defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third Quarter Quell..." as the crowd cheers again, Snow takes out a chard, "... as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol."

Wait...

"On this, the third Quarter Quell Games, the male and female Tributes"

I don't like this...

"Are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each district."

I can't help my shocked expression, what...? I try to look for Plutarch, but I can't see him.

"Victors shall present themselves on Reaping Day, regardless of age, state of health or situation."

This is the last place I want to be right now, i can't even listen to any more words from the President's mouth.

I don't even know what to think... if this is Plutarch's idea, I really don't know what he thinks he would get from it...

Oh god...

Finnick...

Finnick said a good part of the Victors are part of this rebellion... maybe that's what Plutarch has in mind.

Fuck.

I snap back at the present when I feel Cal's hand touching mine.

"And now," Snow's voice completely grounds be back, "our very own, Cal Kingslay, would like to say a few words,"

Cal stands up and joins Snow at the front.

"Thank you, president. It's an honour being here today, to celebrate this very special third Quarter Quell," the crowd applauses, "and... I want to thank every single person here today for the support they showed after my father's passing. So I thought to share the following moment with you all,"

My chest tightens, my heart is pounding inside so much it feel like it's about to explode... and I would be glad if it happened.

"There's one person, who's always being there for me... she's the one who always knows hot to make me smile, I only need to think of her and I'm suddenly a lot better... that is why..."

He turns around and walks towards me, my eyes are wide open. I try to make it seems like I'm excited and not absolutely terrified.

He comes in fron of me and goes down on one knee.

"Shit.." I breath out. He nervously smile as he takes something from his jacket.

The interaction would've felt like a very sweet moment... in other circumstances.

"So, Y/n L/n would you give me the honour of becoming my wife?" He asks, opening a small box revealing a silver ring with a stone embedded.

He looks at me and I look at Snow, who's looking at me with a look I know all too well.

"Do it or there would be consequences."

I look back at Cal and move my hand to make him stand, I don't think I would be able to speak without betraying myself, so... I kiss him.

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