#they were on some sort of porch swing or wooden bench on a porch

[madlyn5ever]

Throwback to that time I was either sick or really out of it and thought this one image was a photo of Charlie Heaton and Natalia dyer and scoured my way back to it only to realize it was definitely a photo of a woman and a child who had just survived the sinking of the Titanic.

(When my phone allows my apps to access my photos again I’ll share it bc I do have a screenshot of the photo with a caption of the moment post realization)

[kingexpl0sionmurder]

Mutual Misunderstandings - Kirishima Eijirou - Smut

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder​​ Pairing: Kirishima Eijirou / F!Reader Rating: 18+ (Contains smut) Words: 5,866 Warnings: Quirkless AU, Aged up characters (they adulty adults!), unprotected vaginal sex, oral (male receiving), very very light choking, reader has a bit of a size kink. AN: Another entry for the BNHAREM collab! This time we’re writing roommates, and I somehow managed to snag Kirishima! I’m super excited for all of the fics coming this time around, so make sure you click on the link below and read some of the other submissions!

This is my first time writing Kirishima and I’m super nervous about it. I’ve always really loved him because he’s just the best boy and he’s so brave and strong and gentle and I just want to cuddle him into oblivion. I also firmly believe he’s going to be a huge tank of a man when he gets older and I’m going with that vision of him here.

Collab Masterlist is HERE My Masterlist is HERE Buy me a KoFi if you’re feeling froggy HERE

------

You stood in your living room, your jaw hanging open, staring at him in shock. Kirishima had a similar look on his face, the two of you pointing at each other like that Spider-Man meme. 

“You mean to tell me you’ve had a crush on me this whole time?” You finally choked out, blinking owlishly at your best friend and roommate. “I thought you liked Mina!”

Kirishima sputtered, shaking his head. “No way! She’s my friend, we’ve known each other since middle school, you know that.” He moved to cross his arms across his broad chest. “And anyway, there’s no way you like me, you have a crush on Bakugou!”

There was no way this was happening right now. “No! I don’t like Bakugou like that! He’s a pain in my fucking ass, and I think about murdering him on a daily basis.” Facepalming, you groaned. “Are we really this stupid?”

How did you end up here?

It started back in your first year of college. 

The parties and the seemingly endless studying had become a comfortable routine for you. So what if you were sleep-deprived and living on cup noodles? You were getting your higher education and ready to tackle the real world head-on in just a few short years.

A pipe dream, but still.

You had your best friend Shinsou by your side and a customer loyalty card at the campus coffee shop and everything was right with the world. You’d even managed to get paired up with Hitoshi’s (sort of) boyfriend for an English project, which was a better outcome than what you could have hoped for, not having to work with some rando on something that would be a large chunk of your grade.

Kaminari had suggested that you work on it at his place with the promise of Doritos, and you agreed. Who were you to turn down snacks? Poor college students needed those cheese dusted carbs to survive. 

The Upsilon Alpha fraternity was one of the best and most popular on campus, and at first, you found it almost laughable that Kaminari was a member. At first glance, he seemed like a total space cadet stoner who didn’t belong in college, much less as a member of such an esteemed frat. However, after getting to know him, you knew that he was most definitely all of those things, but he was also insanely smart when it counted and kept above average grades in his classes (except for math, but with him being a bisexual disaster human, it came with the territory).

You had made some decent progress on your project after about an hour. The outline was done, and you were discussing how you would be presenting it since you had a choice between a written essay or a PowerPoint presentation. 

Without warning, the kitchen door flew open, the doorknob slamming into the wall behind it.

“Well, the quiet was nice while it lasted, huh?” Kaminari blinked, completely unfazed by the commotion, leaning back in his chair and eating a chip.

Your gaze flitted over to the man who was glaring at the two of you from the doorway, his hands shoved in his pockets. Blonde hair that looked so much like an explosion was sticking up in every direction on his head, and you felt his red eyes trained on you as he took in the room. “What are you doing, Dunceface?”

Kaminari didn’t answer right away, raising his eyebrow and grinning at the new arrival. “Hey, Kacchan.”

If the bulging vein in the man’s forehead was any indication, Kaminari had said the wrong thing. He opened his mouth, and you assumed it was to threaten your project partner, but he was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder from behind.

“Bakubro, be nice. Kami has company.” 

The man that appeared beyond the angry pomeranian took your breath away. He was...big. Like, his shoulders were so wide you wondered how he was going to fit through the doorway. And he was tall, with spiked red hair making him look even taller, big red eyes and sharp teeth, and the most beautiful smile you’d ever laid eyes on.

Blonde and grumpy grumbled, moving aside to let giant and red into the room, who then turned that megawatt million-dollar smile on you, and you tried your best not to stare at his biceps or the way his shirt clung to his chest.

Was it hot in here all of a sudden?

“Hi! I’m Kirishima, and this ray of sunshine is Bakugou, we’re some of Kaminari’s frat brothers!” He held out his hand for you to shake, and you smiled up at him, taking his giant hand in yours. The size of his fingers sent your brain reeling, and you knew you needed to get yourself under control before you started moaning out loud in front of him. 

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you! Kami and I are just working on an English project.” You explained, grinning back up at him, trying to keep the lust off of your face. You didn’t want to look like some kind of freak.

He took his hand back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, you must be Shinsou’s friend! Kami told us you’d be coming over, I forgot about that.” He turned, watching as Bakugou slunk over to the fridge and opened the door. “Don’t let us bother you, we’re just grabbing some water before we head to the gym.”

Kaminari snorted. “Dude, if you get any beefier we’re going to need to remodel the doors so you can fit through them.��

Kirishima turned as red as his hair, glancing at you, before he grinned at his friend. “If I stop, no one will be able to bench press you and Sero at the same time at the next party.”

“Bro, that is my favorite party trick of yours.” He sat up straighter, looking forlorn at the thought of it not happening anymore. “Okay, fine, go to the gym.”

Bakugou grumbled from behind him something that sounded like “I could bench press four of you if I wanted to.”

“Of course you could, buddy.” Kirishima slung his arm over Bakugou’s shoulder. “Okay, we’re out of here. It was nice to meet you, Y/N. Good luck with your project!”

Bakugou grunted and shoved a water bottle at Kirishima, shrugging out from under his arm and leaving the room. Kirishima smiled at you when you said goodbye, hurrying after his sour-faced friend and leaving you and Kaminari to your work.

“Your housemates are...interesting.” You managed, still trying to wrap your head around the red-haired man.

Kaminari snorted. “Kirishima is the walking definition of sunshine, and Bakugou is...well, he takes some getting used to. But he’s not a bad guy.”

You just hummed, chewing on your pen absently. “Can he actually bench press you?”

“Fuck yeah. He does it one-handed. You should come to our next party and see for yourself.”

Keeping your face as neutral as possible, you nodded. “Maybe I can convince Shinsou to come with me.” Wiggling your eyebrows at Kaminari when he blushed, you turned back to the notebook that lay open in front of you. “Come on, let’s figure this out so we can talk more about your intentions with my best friend.”

--

You did show up to the next UA frat party, Shinsou in tow. Your purple-haired bestie was grumbling the whole way, his hands shoved in his pockets. It didn’t stop him from making fun of how short your skirt was and teasing you about how you’d done nothing but talk about Kirishima since the day you’d met him.

“He’s like Clifford the Big Red Dog, Y/N. Clumsy and adorable.”

“He’s definitely big. I’d like to climb him like a tree.” You linked your arm with his, walking up to the giant house, the windows already rattling with the bass pumping through the speakers inside.

“You’re disgusting. I am appalled and also proud to call you my best friend.” Sarcastic as usual, he let you drag him along without a fuss.

“That sounds about right.”

The party was in full swing, half the campus milling around inside the house with red plastic cups in hand. You found Kaminari almost immediately, shoving Shinsou towards him and making your way to the kitchen to find yourself a drink. 

“Y/N!” Kirishima was in front of you almost immediately, giant cat eyes and his shark tooth smile lighting up the room. “Kami mentioned you might show up!”

Blushing, you nodded, suddenly losing the ability to form words. He was wearing a tank top, his arm muscles on display, and you took a moment to thank the Lord for the blessing before you. 

“You want a drink?” 

You realized you were staring, so you cleared your throat and smiled at him. “Yes, please.”

His large hand wrapped around your elbow gently as he tugged you through the crowd in the kitchen and out towards the back porch. You tried not to think about how your skin was burning under his touch. You needed to get a grip.

He got to work on the keg, pumping the handle on the top and grabbing you a cup, tilting it a bit as he filled it with beer. 

“Hey, shitty hair! Beer pong!” You turned to see Bakugou standing on the other side of the large wooden deck, his arm resting on the shoulder of a tall and lanky brown-haired boy. “Sero here wants to break up the dream team! Find a partner!”

Kirishima chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, hang on!” He turned to you, handing you your drink. “So, you play beer pong?”

Bringing the cup to your lips, you tilted your head back and chugged your beer, wiping your mouth off with the back of your hand when you’d finished. Kirishima was staring at you with wide eyes, looking surprised but pleased. “Yeah. I’m better when I’m drunk, though.”

He held out his hand for the empty cup, moving to fill it up again, his grin never faltering. “Let’s go kick their asses.”

--

That was the beginning of your friendship with Kirishima. What had started as a crush on the red-haired man had turned into a companionship that you couldn’t ever see yourself without. That was why you never said a word about how you really felt.

As cliché as it was, you didn’t know how you’d survived without the guy. He was nothing short of amazing. He was a great listener, and he gave good advice. He was always there when you needed him, bringing you soup when you were sick, going on late-night snack runs when you were up all night studying for exams, showing up with chocolate and tampons when it was your time of the month.

Shinsou had always done those things for you, but he was spending a lot of time with his boyfriend now. You weren’t upset about it though, you thought they were the cutest and you didn’t want to third wheel their time together, so you hung out with Kirishima and Bakugou a lot more often. 

As Kaminari had told you on that first day, Bakugou truly wasn’t a bad guy. His attitude got on your nerves though, and you envisioned punching him in the face at least four times a day, but you didn’t dislike him. He and Kirishima were best friends, so he was a part of the package, and you learned to deal with him.

So it was a no-brainer when Kirishima and Bakugou approached you and asked if you wanted to get an apartment with them once you’d graduated. With the three of you living together, you were able to afford a nicer apartment than you’d ever dreamed of having that was in a central location and only a few train stops away from where your respective jobs were located.

Things were going well, and you’d done a decent job of keeping your true feelings for Kirishima to yourself. It helped that he’d never dated anyone, and you were free to lust after him quietly, under the impression that no one had caught on to how you really felt, perfectly content to continue as you had been since the day you’d met him. 

The only wrench in your plans of quiet pining was Mina Ashido.

Mina was awesome, and you loved her to pieces. She was one of the only other females in your friend group and had been around since you’d gotten closer to the boys in the frat that first year of college. She was the perfect person to go to when you needed some self-care nights, always down to put on a face mask and paint your nails, and she was the best shopping partner.

However, you were thoroughly convinced that Kirishima liked her. 

You’d noticed, as far back as your freshman year, how they always gravitated towards each other in social settings. Mina was always one of the last ones to leave when you went out back then, always the one Kirishima threw his arm around when you walked back to campus from the bar.

It was part of the reason you’d become close with Bakugou in the first place. Whenever Kiri was with Mina, you always sidled up to the explosive blonde, teasing him to distract yourself from the way your heart was squeezing in your chest. 

Neither of them had ever mentioned having more than just a platonic, friendly relationship with each other, but you couldn’t shake the feeling you got whenever you saw them together.

It’s called jealousy, you idiot.

You had nothing to be jealous about though. Kirishima was your friend, and that’s all he would ever be.

--

Things had been going well, at least that’s what you’d thought. And then this morning had happened.

It was Saturday, which was your normal grocery shopping day. You and Bakugou had taken on the burden of shopping for groceries for the apartment. You’d allowed Kirishima to go once and he came home with more junk food than should be allowed in one cart, and half of the things on the list you’d given him missing, and more protein powder than should be legally allowed.

Bakugou had worked out a system and your grocery shopping trips were like a well-oiled machine that took no longer than an hour out of your day, and you were grateful for your grumpy friend and his penchant for being overly organized.

You finished getting dressed, ready to get this over with so you could use the rest of the day to play video games and be generally lazy. Walking into the living room, you stopped in your tracks to see your roommates glaring at each other, which was normal for one of them, and uncharacteristic for the other.

“Everything okay?” Your eyes darted between the two men, taking in Kirishima’s stiff posture and clenched jaw. 

“Fine. I’m going shopping alone today.” Bakugou grunted, turning away from his best friend.

Puzzled, you frowned. “What? Why?”

Bakugou stopped in the doorway, turning to face the both of you, looking thoroughly fed up. He lifted his hand and pointed. “The two of you are making me want to commit myself. I’ve been dealing with this shit for years, and it ends today. You’re in love with each other. Figure your shit out and fuck already. I’ll be out for the rest of the day.”

You gaped after him as he turned again, giving you both the middle finger over his shoulder as he left, the door slamming shut behind him.

And that brings us up to speed.

“Are we really this stupid?” You asked, shutting your eyes and leaning your head back.

Kirishima sighed. “This doesn’t make any sense. Since when?”

Snorting, you flopped down on the couch, rubbing at your face tiredly. “Truthfully? Since the moment we met.” You guessed the cat was out of the bag, so you might as well tell him everything. “In the kitchen at the frat house.”

“When you came over to work on that project with Denki?” His eyebrows furrowed, an adorably confused look on his face. “Are you telling me I’ve been pushing you at Bakugou for nearly 5 years for no reason?”

“Yeah, you could stop doing that at any time and I would appreciate it. Unless you want me to strangle him to death.”

Kirishima flopped down on the other end of the couch, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’ve liked you just as long, you know? I saw you sitting in our kitchen and I thought I was going to throw up.”

“If that was supposed to make me feel good about myself then you’ve failed miserably.”

“No! I just mean, the butterflies-” He groaned. “Shut up and let me get this out okay?” 

Smirking at him, you turned your body, leaning against the back of the couch. “Okay, sorry, keep going.”

Taking a deep breath, he continued, red eyes trained on your face. “Do you remember the frat party?”

“Which one?”

“That first one, when you chugged that beer in front of me and then helped me kick Bakugou’s ass at beer pong?” He waited for you to nod before he spoke again. “I’d never felt so enamored with anyone in my entire life.” Kirishima let his gaze fall to his hands. “You were so awesome and funny and beautiful and you kept up with my friends and their dumbass antics like a pro and I just...I couldn’t believe you were real. I just kept telling myself that you would never be into someone like me, so I decided that if we could be friends for life then that would be enough.”

“Ei…” You trailed off, frowning. You’d always known he tended to get down on himself. You and Bakugou had done your best to convince him he was worth much more than he let himself believe, but sometimes he needed a reminder.

“I know, I know. I don’t feel that way anymore, but at the time I did.” His hair was down, tied back in a loose bun, bits of his fringe falling in his eyes. He pushed a piece of it behind his ear and kept going. “So I tried to keep my distance, kept on hanging around with Mina, tried not to think about how much I wanted to be with you. She kept telling me I needed to tell you, kept rubbing it in that I wasn’t being manly about it. But you were hanging out with Bakugou so much I just figured you liked him and I didn’t want to get in the way.”

Closing your eyes, you let your head fall forward. “I was hanging out with Bakugou because I couldn’t stand seeing you with Mina so much. I was jealous.” Realization hit, and your eyes snapped open. “Mina knew?”

“Yeah, she’s the only one I told.”

“All those times we hung out and she never said a word.” Chuckling, you shook your head. “I told Shinsou. It’s like the only secret he’s ever kept from Kaminari. I threatened to mutilate him beyond all recognition if he mentioned a word to anyone.” You grinned sheepishly at him.

Kirishima huffed a laugh. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Bakugou. Your threats are just as creative as his.”

“Speaking of, I guess he figured it out on his own then.”

Humming, he shrugged. “He was always the smartest one out of all of us.” He looked over at you again. “So, now it’s your turn.”

Raising an eyebrow, you blinked at him. “For what? A heartfelt confession?” 

“It’s only fair. I told you how I felt. What did you think when you first met me?”

You felt your ears get hot. “Do you want the truth? Because it’s kind of embarrassing.”

Shifting himself on the couch, he leaned against the arm, tanned forearms resting on his knees. “Oh, this should be good.” He teased, grinning.

“Shut up.” You sighed, preparing yourself for his reaction. “When you walked into the kitchen that day, my first thoughts were...uh...pretty dirty. Like X rated.”

Eyes wide, he stared at you. “Really? How dirty are we talking here?”

You covered your face with your hands, mumbling your answer behind them.

“Sorry, what was that?” He was fucking with you again, you could hear the smirk in his voice, and you were tempted to smack him with a throw pillow.

Taking a deep breath, you moved your hands from your face, looking him right in the eye. “I said, I wanted you to step on me.”

Sputtering, he blinked a few times. “What?”

“I mean, you were this...tank, Eijirou. Like this giant man with gorgeous eyes and a killer smile, with the personality of fucking sunshine and you had these big hands and I wanted you to wrap them around my throat and-”

“Whoa whoa whoa, seriously?” His cheeks were as red as his hair, his hands flailing as he stopped your tirade. “You wanted me to…?

Nodding solemnly, you looked him dead in the eyes. “Yes, and I’ve thought about that like every day since then.” 

“I am learning things about you today that I never even imagined.” Blowing a breath out he slumped back, looking shook.

You hurried on, wanting him to know it was more than that. “I mean, after that I got to know you and I love everything about you, Ei. I just, you’re such a good person, better than I could ever be. You care about everyone and you’re always there for me, for all of us, whenever we need you. You’re strong and funny and brave. I always know that I can rely on you.” Sniffling, you couldn’t help the emotions bubbling to the surface. 

“But you also want me to step on you.” He was grinning, his eyes a little wet, too.

Wiping at your eyes with your fingers, you chuckled. “Yes, exactly.”

Sighing, he leaned forward, grabbing your arm and tugging. “Come here.”

Crawling across the couch, you laid down between his parted legs, your head resting on his chest. He wrapped his giant arms around you and kissed the top of your head. 

“Now what?” You asked, realizing you were afraid of the answer. What happened now?

He hummed, and you heard the sound vibrate through his chest. “I was going to suggest a nap, but now I keep thinking about what you said…”

You lifted up to ask what he meant, shifting your body and freezing when you felt something hard brush against your thigh. Eyes meeting his, you bit your lip at the look on his face, feeling a blush creep over your face and down your neck. “Yeah?”

“I figured we can do things out of order a little bit, right? I’m going to take you on a real date and court you properly, like a gentleman and all that, but right now all I can think about is, well…” He sat up, grabbing you around the waist and lifting you like it was nothing, until you were sitting properly on his lap, straddling his hips. When he was satisfied, his hand moved to your throat, putting the smallest amount of pressure on the sides of your neck with his calloused fingertips.

The moan that tore from your throat was low and quiet, but he heard it, muttering a curse under his breath as you became nearly boneless in his lap. “Eijriou.” You managed, licking your lips and gazing at him through half-closed eyes, your blood pounding in your ears.

It was ridiculous how turned on you were in that moment, and he’d barely done a thing. You felt his cock twitch beneath you, and you couldn’t help but grind down on him, the small amount of friction making you shiver.

Suddenly he was guiding you towards him, your noses bumping and breath mingling as he held you in place, his lips just out of your reach. “You don’t know how much I’ve always wanted you, Y/N.” 

Letting your eyes slide closed, you ran your hands up his muscled arms and rested them on his shoulders to keep yourself upright. You were tired of waiting, of keeping yourself from what you wanted. “Show me.”

If you were to die right here on this couch it would have all been worth it. The feeling of his lips on yours, the way he ran his thumb lightly over your throat as he kissed you, had your eyes rolling back in their sockets. You couldn’t get enough of the taste of him, of the feeling of his hard body beneath your fingertips. He was careful with his sharp teeth, tugging at your bottom lip lightly, your tongues sliding together as he rolled his hips against yours.

You pulled back for air finally, taking in his kiss bruised lips and dilated pupils. Reaching down, you tore your shirt over your head, tossing it across the room, never breaking eye contact. You watched his gaze fall to your heaving chest as he worried at his bottom lip for a moment, obviously lost in thought. 

Before you could ask him what he was thinking about, he’d shifted again so that his feet were on the floor. Kirishima lifted you off his lap and put you on your feet in front of him, hands moving to your waist, fingers slipping into the elastic of the leggings you were wearing. He pressed his face to your bare stomach, kissing your skin as he worked your pants down your thighs, slipping them past your knees. You played with his hair, moaning softly as he kissed along your hip.

When he sat back you stepped out of your leggings, feeling exposed. You forgot how to be awkward when he was looking at you like that, hungry and wanting. Stepping forward, you pouted. “Why am I the only one half-naked?”

Chuckling, he pulled his shirt off, and you sucked in a breath, trying to wrap your head around the fact that this man, with a chiseled and perfect body like a Greek god, wanted you.

You didn’t even have time to admire him, because he was moving again, pulling you closer by your thighs, sharp teeth hooking into the front of your panties and dragging them down. Tugging the tie out of his hair, you slid it on your wrist, letting your fingers card through his red locks. He let his hands do the rest of the work until the offending garment was tangled around your ankles. 

Pushing him away gently, you watched him settle back on the couch, red eyes gazing at you as you reached back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor, finally fully exposed to him. Kirishima sucked in a breath, blinking a few times in disbelief. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

You kicked your panties to the side, moving to kneel in front of him, reaching up to grasp the top of his grey sweats, mouth-watering when you started to tug them down. Kirishima was huge everywhere else, so the size of his cock was of no surprise to you. He was massive, long, and girthy, and you couldn’t wait to feel him inside you, stuffing you full.

Rubbing your thighs together for some relief, you left his sweats around his ankles, leaning forward and grasping his cock in your hand. It was almost comical how small your hands looked compared to it. Your eyes locked with his as you licked a long stripe up the shaft, tracing along the prominent vein on the underside, and lapping at the precum dripping from the head. 

Kirishima’s head fell back to rest on the cushion behind him, his fingers tangling in your hair as you took him into your mouth. Your jaw ached almost immediately as you did your best to swallow all of him down, willing your throat to relax. You’d spent so long thinking about how he would taste and sound as you sucked his soul out through his dick, you were going to make the most out of this moment. 

His breathy pants filled the room, along with the obscene slurping sounds of your mouth around his cock. Gripping your hair and tugging lightly, you could tell he was holding back, his thighs shaking with the effort to keep from fucking up into your face. You pulled off, opening your mouth to let him know he could wreck you however he wanted, but he had other plans.

“Come up here, baby.”

The pet name sent shivers through you as you stood up, straddling his lap, his cock pressed up against his stomach. His thumb brushed over your lips, wiping away the spit and pre that spilled down your chin. Cradling your face in his large palm, he pulled you forward and kissed you deeply, his free hand sliding between your bodies. Thick fingers parted your folds, and you lifted up on your knees to give him better access. You moaned into his mouth as he brushed over your clit, gathering the dripping wetness of your cunt along his digits and sliding one finger inside your hole.

You clenched around him, breaking the kiss and keening loudly, your hips involuntarily bucking against his hand. His finger pumped in and out, curling slightly and pressing against your inner walls, stretching you. Gripping your hip with his other hand, he kissed his way down your jaw to your neck and chest, tongue flicking out over your nipple, hot breath ghosting over your skin with a chuckle when you grabbed his head and pulled him towards you.  

One finger turned to two and then three as you rocked and mewled in pleasure, his thumb finding your clit again and pressing against the bundle of nerves, whispered praises reaching your ears as he sucked and bit at your breasts. You were on the edge, wanting to fall over and drown in him, needing to cum all over his fingers and then again on his cock, wanting nothing more than to feel this way forever. 

“Ei I’m gonna…” You panted, unable to form the words.

Grunting, he moved his fingers faster, pressing his thumb in a little harder, his words of praise streaming steadily, telling you how good you were, how pretty you looked. Eyes rolling back, your body tensed, a moan in the sound of his name leaving your lips as you shook, cumming harder than you ever had in your life. 

You were still clenching when he pulled his fingers out of you, his hand slick with release as he tugged on his cock and lined it up with your entrance, your body mourning the loss for mere seconds before he was filling you again. The slick glide of your arousal had you taking nearly all of him, the two of you groaning in tandem at the feeling. Gripping his shoulders, you lifted slightly, slamming your hips back down and taking him to the hilt. The stretch was just on the edge of painful, but his thick digits had stretched you just enough that the pleasure superseded any discomfort.

Still trying to gather yourself after your orgasm, you took a moment to breathe, studying his face, your gaze tracing over the scar on his eyelid, and his dark lashes fanning over his cheeks. An hour ago you never could have imagined you’d be here, panting shakily, drenched in sweat and skin to skin with your best friend and roommate. 

Clenching around him, you held his shoulders, rocking forward and lifting yourself slightly. Kirishima gripped your hips, fucking up into you in a steady rhythm, his lips finding yours once again to swallow the panting moans leaving you. You bounced on his cock, relishing the feeling as he kissed down your neck, his fingertips digging into your flesh, sure to leave bruises for you to admire the next day.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but it didn’t even matter. Just being this close to him, feeling him filling you so completely after wanting him for so long, it could have been minutes and you’d be happy. Knowing he felt for you as strongly as you felt for him was enough. 

His fingers trailed along your front and dipped in between your bodies to rub your clit again, and you felt the pleasure race down your spine, coil tightening again and ready to break. “Oh fuck, Eijirou!”

Growling, he grunted your name as his hips snapped up to meet yours, chasing his release. “I love you, Y/N.”

His words tipped you over again, your breath catching as you came, the wet sounds of his cock plunging into you increasing as you gushed around him. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, completely spent. You held onto him as he slammed into you a few more times, rhythm faltering and hips stuttering until he was filling you up with a loud groan.

Collapsing back onto the couch, he held you to his chest, the two of you gasping for air. It was quiet for a few minutes as he rubbed his palm along your back comfortingly. You felt relaxed and sated, a pleased smile making its way to your face when you thought about what he’d said.

“Hey, Ei?” You pulled back slightly to look at him, giggling when he peeked one eye open to gaze at you.

“You okay?”

“Mm. I just wanted to tell you that I love you, too.”

He looked sheepish, opening both eyes and biting his lip. “I didn’t mean to tell you like that. I wanted it to be romantic.”

“That was plenty romantic, Eijirou.” Rolling your eyes fondly, you shifted in his lap. “I’m just happy to hear you say it.”

“Man, we did this all wrong. I should have at least taken you to dinner first. This is so unmanly of me, I just couldn’t help it.” He frowned. “I’m sorry-”

“You’re too good sometimes, Ei. I’m not complaining, am I?” You raised an eyebrow. “We should go get cleaned up before Bakugou comes home and finds out we fucked on the couch.”

“Please don’t talk about Bakugou while you’re sitting on my dick.” He made a face that caused you to bust into gasping laughter. 

“Oh my god, I can’t.” You wheezed. “You’re ridiculous.” You moved to get up and he stopped you.

With a serious look on his face, he pushed your hair away from your face, his hand lingering near your ear. “I do love you though, Y/N. And I’m glad we finally got here. I didn’t think we ever would.”

Expression softening, you leaned into his palm, smiling at him. “Me too.”

Maybe if you had just told him how you felt all those years ago, you would have been able to have this sooner. But you promised yourself that you wouldn’t dwell on the past, deciding to focus on the future, because you knew it would be filled with more moments with him just like this.

[ohkiyo]

characters: msby black jackals, reader, and schweiden adlers.

warnings: lots of cursing.

word count: 9.8k

a/n: I wanted to upload this next week, but this one have been sitting in my drafts for almost a month. So hope you all enjoyed this piece!

(c/n)- country

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When everyone woke up that morning, you were all greeted by Coach Foster standing in the middle of the living room, hands on his hips with the team’s bus driver standing beside him. Wearing the standard black jackals' themed t-shirt and jacket.

“Today you’re going on a trip, go pack your bags” those were the only things Coach Foster said, straight to the point and no more opening speeches to begin it with.

Those words barely registered into everyone’s mind but the moment that their brain did manage to process it. They all dash back into their respective room, grab their suitcases, and stuff their essentials. Everyone was excited, a trip? Like just a normal getaway and not some sort of out of the city training? Hell yes!

They have been dying to have one, because of their new and improvised training regimens. It was rigorous, brutal, but overall worth it because results show it all.

Quickly, they ran downstairs, backpacks on their back, suitcases on their hand. Whilst they try to put on their shirt or shorts all the while sprinting towards the bus. Again, too excited about the trip.

“Where are we going?” Takato asks as you stood beside him, waiting for the driver to load the luggage into the bus’s compartment. Coach Foster remained silent and instead gave you both a smile in reply, patting both of your backs then pushing you towards the vehicle’s entrance.

Watching from the bus’s glass window as he waves you all goodbye, you and Takato shared a look. Not having any prior knowledge of your trip was a bit concerning on your parts as managers. However, Coach Foster would not arrange a trip that could potentially harm his players, so you hope that he will send a message when you arrive.

You hope.

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“Where are we?” they look from left to right, as they try to decipher which part of Japan they were dropped off to. Apparently, sleeping during the entire ride was a bad idea, because now, they were standing beside a dirt road.

In front of them were rows and rows of pine trees stretching as far as their eyes could see. Behind them, was a hill with a big wooden building seated on top and a footpath decorated with stone lamps on each side leading towards it.

“Please tell me that’s where we’re staying” all heads turn to Takato who also has no idea. It was clear to everyone that Coach Foster did not discuss this trip to any of the members, not to the managers nor to the captain himself. Because Shugo’s standing behind the group while scratching his head with an obvious question mark floating above it.

“Let’s go up there and find out” grabbing their bags, they walk up the stoned footpath, and towards the big wooden building. The hill thankfully was not very steep, they had packed quite a lot of clothing that carrying it uphill might become a problem.

“Wow”

The big wooden building turned out to be a guesthouse, a traditional guesthouse to be exact. It was big and very spacious; from the front porch, alone they could figure out that it was not just a house, but a mansion. From its lavish and intricate designs to the furniture and other decorations placed outside was an obvious sign.

“This is so cool!” Hinata exclaimed, taking a seat on a wooden swing bench, Bokuto joining him.

“There might be a caretaker we can talk to” Inunaki examined one of the potted plants displayed on the wooden deck. The leaves all green and healthy, its soil still wet, meaning someone was just here a while ago.

“Look at that beautiful home!” all heads turn to see the Adlers’ team reaching the peak of the hill, their bags in hand as they walk towards the open area in front of the house.

After noticing that they were not the only ones there, they pause in their tracks as they stared at each other. Their reactions a mix of surprise, confusion, and delight.

“Let me guess, Coach Suzaku surprise you when you woke up” Shugo watch as the rest of the Adlers members drops their bags on the wooden floor. Fukuro nodded his head, sitting down as he pulled his jacket closer to his body.

“Coach Foster too?”

“Yeah”

“I don’t get this” you look up at Takato as he stared at his phone, dialing Coach Foster’s number while his other hand scratch his head. “Are we supposed to share this trip with Schweiden?”

“I’m not sure” Takato answered, before he held up a finger, bringing his phone on his ear. Walking away from the group as he talks to the person on the other line.

You just stood there, wringing your fingers together as you watch them interact with each other. They may be rivals on the court, dead set on beating each other on volleyball, but once they are outside they actually get along quite well. Although, there is still an air of competitiveness floating around, what more could you expect from a bunch of pro athletes?

“Listen up everyone” Takato called out, pocketing his phone as he went back to gather with the group. “I just called Coach Foster and he said that this was prepared by both him and Coach Suzaku. He didn’t say anything else, other than we’ll be staying here for a week, to enjoy this trip, and to keep the damage to a minimum”

In the last part, the eyes of the older ones immediately turned to look at the troublesome younger players. If there was one thing they could all agree, it’s that their younger members were by far the most chaotic people they’ve met. After knowing each other since their high school years, they all have become so comfortable enough to show their true colors.

“Did he say who owns this mansion?” Tatsuto voiced out the question that was on everyone’s mind the moment they saw it. Surely, the house must have belonged to a close friend of their coach, or maybe another generous sponsor. It didn’t matter much, they just want to know the name of the owner.

Takato shook his head. “He didn’t say anything, but I’m assuming it’s a mutual friend of theirs”

They accepted that explanation and didn’t question any further, who were they to complain? Everything’s free, and their coach themselves said to enjoy, so they were going to enjoy their one-week break from their training.

They went inside the house, each one of them letting out a sound of amazement at the interior. The living room was the most spacious part of the house, in the middle was a sofa with two love seats of both sides and a coffee table in the middle.

In front of the sofa were a fireplace and a flat-screen TV installed on top of it. On both sides of the fireplace were two hallways leading to the deeper parts of the huge house, and on both sides of the living room were two sliding doors leading to the garden.

“There are nine bedrooms in total so we have to sleep by pair. (Y/n) gets to have a room of her own of course”

From behind Sakusa’s mask, Takato could see the way his lips just bend downward. Clearly not happy having to share a room with anyone, not totally convince that they are free of germs.

“There’s also a hot spring at the back area…” Takato trailed off as he stared at the text Coach Foster sent him.

“A hot spring?!” Bokuto and Hoshiumi jump from their seat in excitement, wide eyes staring expectantly at Takato for confirmation.

“Yes that’s what it says here”

“Whoever owns this place must be crazy rich” Inunaki mumbled as Adriah nodded beside him, agreeing to the libero’s words. Of course, they must be rich, only those with money can afford to build their own home a personal hot spring after all.

“Let’s just go to our own rooms and we’ll discuss the rest once we’ve settled”

They nodded their head, grabbing their bag and making their way towards the area where the bedrooms were located along with their preferred roommate. Each one choosing which room they like best, you walk past Hinata and Kageyama who were fighting with Atsumu and Hoshiumi for the bedroom with direct access to the gardens.

You just shook your head at their squabbling, adjusting your backpack on your shoulder. Finally choosing your room, you opened the door just a little bit to see if it’s occupied. It wasn’t, opening the door a little wider you gave a wave and a smile to Fukuro and Toshiro who walk past before you continue to drag your suitcase inside.

The room didn’t have much furniture in it aside from the wooden cabinet on the side, and a wooden table on the other. With another door for the bathroom. You pushed your suitcase towards the cabinet and opened it; the futon, blanket, and pillows you are going to use later were inside. Neatly arranged in a pile.

You quickly unpack your bag, placing your clothes inside the cabinet, and just as you’re stacking the last piece of shirt inside. You heard Bokuto’s laughter in the room beside yours, meaning he and Takato were in the room next door.

Once you were finished, you stood up and walk out of the room towards the kitchen to check if there were any groceries. Takato was already there going through the fridge, while Shugo and Fukuro were checking the cupboards.

“The good thing is we have groceries” Takato closed the fridge, looking over to Shugo and Fukuro who are still going through the rest of the cupboards. “They’ve just been brought in this morning by the caretaker, but I doubt it’ll last us a week”

“There are canned goods over here” Fukuro patted the four cupboards, he was just checking earlier.

“I saw like 3 packs of pasta here along with some spices” Shugo gestures to the remaining cabinets.

“We could buy some from the farmers here” you shrug your shoulders, leaning on the table.

Takato nodded his head. “We will look for anyone selling tomorrow, for now, let’s rest”

All three of you nodded your head at his words and left the kitchen. Walking back to your rooms to get that much-needed sleep, and shoo away the fatigue from that long travel.

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“Ah~ I could get used to this” Adriah closed his eyes in content, resting his arms on the edge of the pool. The warm water rippling around his body as it calms him and his tense muscles, the effects of the training from a few days ago still evident on his body.

“I could stay here all night” Toshiro rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck. Those familiar sounds of joints popping reaching his ears.

The hot springs were most definitely one of the best spots in the house, and everyone could agree to it. Just sitting on the pool’s rock floors, with warm water to soothe their bodies and the peacefulness of it all were just purely therapeutic.

“I might just build myself my own private hot spring if I get to feel this relax every day” Shugo states, as he runs a hand through his wet hair.

“Invite me sometimes when you do” Nicollas replied from beside him, eyes scanning the space they were currently in until they landed on Sakusa situated on the farthest side of the pool. With Ushijima accompanying him. “Kiyoomi, are you alright over there?”

Sakusa just nods his head in response before resuming his conversation with Ushijima, Nicollas was worried that he had made the Sakusa uncomfortable by persuading him to join everyone at the hot springs. When Takato had suggested that they would enjoy the hot spring together, Sakusa was the only one to deny and instead prefers he use their bedroom’s bath instead.

However, Nicollas wanted to spend time with all of them, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity after all. Their team may be rivals in sport but there’s nothing stopping him from making friends outside of it.

“Seeing you with your hair down is so weird, Kotaro” Tatsuto observes the multi-colored locks. “You look like a completely different person”

Bokuto laughs, his voice echoing throughout the huge bath. “I do?”

Takato chuckled, before adding. “The first time I saw you, I thought I was looking at a stranger”

“Gahahaha Kageyama you should’ve seen your face!” All three men hear Hinata’s loud laugh. Turning their heads, they saw him pointing at the setter after splashing his face with some water. His hair, sticking to his forehead. Kageyama glared at his former teammate, before placing his hand on top of Hinata’s head and pushing him down.

“Take that you idiot” Kageyama smirk watching as bubbles float around the area where Hinata was earlier. Removing his hand, Hinata shot up, splashing him again, pouting.

“Bakeyama! I could’ve died”

“Careful” Takato reminded as Hoshiumi push them both down into the water, cackling as he and Atsumu share a high five.

Takato let out a sigh before he remembers that their other manager was alone on the other side of the wooden divider. Moving a little closer to the wall, he gave it a few taps before he called out.

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“(Y/n)? are you okay over there?”

“I’m fine, Takato-san!” you replied before a shriek from the other side was heard, followed by Hinata and Hoshiumi’s laughter.

‘I wonder what they’re up to now?’

You thought as you try to listen to the commotion happening from the other side.

“Shoyo-kun, Korai-kun. Gimme back my towel!”

“Atsumu, you might wanna cover your junk”

A few rounds of laughter was heard, Atsumu screaming for Hinata and Hoshiumi to give back his towel before Takato spoke to you again. “You were so quiet; I thought something happened to you”

“I’m fine”

You rest your head on the edge of the pool, a warm towel over your eyes. Listening to the voices coming from the other side.

Flapping noises reach your ears, a hooting sound followed right after. You remove the towel, wanting to see what it is. There, at the top of the wooden wall was an owl, a barred owl to be exact. Looking down at you, its head cock sideward.

“Oh my” you slowly leaned forward, wanting to have a closer look at the creature. “Hello”

It let out another hoot as if responding to your greeting. You chuckled, this was the first time you have ever encounter an owl out in the wild, you have seen them in zoos or sanctuaries before, but in the wind? Today was a first.

“You look so beautiful” you continue to observe it a little more, it doesn’t seem to be bothered by your staring though. Whenever you would tilt your head to one side, it would mimic it. Whenever you spoke to it, it would give a hoot in response; you look like an idiot for talking to an animal.

You were thankful that it was just you over there. Although, you’re sure that the guys could hear you.

“Where are your friends?”

As if on cue, another one landed beside it, your eyes widened. Its familiar black and white feathers and the little horns at the top on its head reminding you of a certain someone.

“No way” you wanted to laugh aloud at the coincidence, a barred owl and a horned owl sitting side by side together. Watching you bathe, somehow this duo just reminds you of a certain duo as well, the ones you have spent your high school with.

“Why didn’t I bring my phone with me?” you muttered to yourself. You really wanted to take a picture of them and show it to Bokuto later, you were sure he was going to be ecstatic about it.

You watch as the horned owl moved closer, preening the barred owl’s feathers. You press your hands on your mouth to stop the loud squeal from leaving your lips. That was just so cute, are these two a couple? You were hoping they were.

“Best day ever” you sighed in content, watching as they jump around the wooden fence, flapping their wings occasionally. Not only did you wake to the news of going on a trip, but you also get to stay at a wonderful mansion as well, and you have two owls keep you company. If that’s not considered a great day, then I don’t know what is.

“Hm? Are you two leaving now?” their heads were turned towards the thick body of trees just outside of the wooden fence. Flapping their wings a few times, before they eventually flew away. Their bodies disappearing into the night.

“Bye, see you again” you wave, hearing one last hoot from them before it became quiet once again. Even the chatter from the other side had stopped.

Did they go back to their rooms already?

“(Y/n)? Have you gone loco?”

You giggled at Hinata’s question, his voice lace with genuine worry. You had not realized that they had stopped talking to one another and decided to listen to you instead.

“I’m alright Hinata”

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The next morning, you were awoken from your sleep by a series of knocks on your door. You turn around, pulling your blanket over your head, the knocking continued and it seemed like it would not stop.

You crawled over to the door and opened it. Atsumu’s grinning face greets you, you almost slammed it shut but a hand prevented you from doing that.

“Get up, we’re going on a run” Atsumu opened your door further, to reveal the rest of the monster generation waiting outside. You just stared at them, still half asleep, observing through sleepy eyes their attire. They are already changed into some track pants, shorts, shirts, jackets, and running shoes.

“Why?”

“For exercise (Y/n)!” Hoshiumi replied, a little too loud for your liking. You deadpan at them, a look on your face clearly saying. ‘Seriously?’

They seem to be determined though to get you to join them. Although it’s just Atsumu, Bokuto, Hinata, and Hoshiumi, the rest didn’t really care much. You let out a sigh.

“Alright, give me a few minutes”

“Great! See you out front!”

Then the door slammed shut, you rub your temples, staring at your futon longingly. You really wanted to get back to bed, but you were sure that if you do, they would probably come back and drag you out. You slip into a pair of track pants, sweater, and running shoes. Brushing your hair, you tied it into a ponytail, then spraying yourself some cologne before walking out into the front porch.

“I thought you went back to sleep” Takato laugh at the look on your face, waking up early was not exactly your forte. You would pretty much prefer to claim every second of sleep you could get. Now that the team was on break, he was sure you were hoping to sleep in. However, that does not seem to be the case today.

“Why am I doing this too?” you yawned, squinting your eyes a little. It was still a bit dark, the only source of light was from the lamps near the footpath and the light installed at the porch.

“Alright everyone stretches first!”

You copied their routine counting along with them. The warm-up exercises were slowly helping you dispel the sleepiness you were still feeling, your joints cracking with every bend of your limbs. When that was done, each one chose their jogging buddy before going down the footpath.

You joined along with Nicollas, Takato, and Oliver. Listening to them discuss family stuff.

“Is your wife going to be okay on her own, Takato?” Nicollas’ face twist in worry, having experienced the fear of having a pregnant wife alone at home. “She’s eight months along now, right?”

Takato nodded his head, as you fastened your pace a little. “She’s with her parents right now, so she’s fine. I also visit her during the weekends”

Nicollas hums before turning to Oliver. “You also visit your family as well right Oliver?”

“On the weekends I go home to them”

Nicollas let out a groan. “I envy you two; I haven’t seen my wife and son in six months. I miss them” he sniffled, as you stretch out your hand to pat his back in comfort. Going to another country for work has many cons, you get to leave your family behind, and not see or touch them for long periods of time.

You could imagine just how upset he must be, to not be able to see his family.

“How about you (Y/n)?” Oliver turns to you, as you look up at him. “I haven’t seen you visit your family before”

All three men turn to you as they waited for your reply, their pace steadily matching those who were in front. Just to make sure, the group stays together.

“My family migrated to (c/n) when I started college. So I can’t really visit them whenever”

“Oh (Y/n), you must really miss them huh?” Nicollas rest a hand on your head, sharing the same sentiment as you. Unable to be in close contact with their family.

“There are times where I just want my mom” you laugh, feeling embarrassed at the prospect of still relying on your mother even though you were already in your early twenties. “I just want to taste her cooking again”

All three men express their agreement at your words, also feeling the same. No matter how old they may be, there is still that longing of wanting to feel their mother’s love again.

“Now I’m also starting to miss my mom”

The four of you fell silent; now enjoying the scenery you are passing by, on your left and right were rows of rice field. The crops have grown quite well and ready for harvest, you may not have like it that you were woken up at 4 am but you were grateful in the least.

It was peaceful, the breath of fresh air, the spectacular view. You can’t experience something like this in the city.

“Hey look!” Bokuto held up his hand and pointed to the mountains, the sun slowly rising up from behind the two landmasses. Everyone stops in their tracks to admire the wonderful sight.

“Beautiful” Toshiro whispered, holding up his phone and snapping a few photos of the sun. Saving the picture for when he will upload it later on his socials.

The sun slowly moves out of its hiding spot, its rays gently covering the croplands with its warmth. Drying the morning dew that came from the previously cold night.

“I guess it’s time we go back” Shugo suggested and everyone started stretching their bodies once again. Preparing themselves for another long run.

“I’ll race you there Kageyama” Hinata jumps on his spot. The setter shot him a smirk, accepting his challenge as he cracks his neck.

“Woah, Woah. We’re jogging, not racing” Atsumu reminded them when he saw that they were serious. “No one’s racing anyone”

“Last one back to the house will have to eat a handful of jalapeños” Hoshiumi added, ignoring what Atsumu just said earlier.

“And where are you going to get these jalapeños?” Sakusa rolled his feet, both hands on his hips.

“I saw a bunch of them planted at the house’s backyard” Hoshiumi replied, preparing himself as he positioned his body.

“Alright, let’s do this!” They immediately dash away. Leaving Atsumu in the dust, coughing at the dirt that he accidentally inhaled.

“Tsum-Tsum! You better start running or else you’ll be eating those jalapeños later!” Atsumu curse under his breath before running after them, catching up in no time.

The rest of the members that were left behind just blink, watching as they quickly disappear from their line of sight. You let out a sigh, knowing well that you need to go after them to make sure those idiots don’t do anything stupid.

Even though Sakusa and Ushijima - the more responsible ones - are present. They also get swept away by challenges that they sometimes join in as well, and today was just an example.

“I’ll go after them” you run, mentally thanking your PE teacher for having you run laps around the track field almost every day. Because now, it had proven to be very useful.

“That girl’s a blessing, don’t you agree?” Tatsuto looks to them as they nodded their head. The black jackals’ members witnessing firsthand how (Y/n)’s inclusion in the team had helped them keep everyone under control.

They started making their way back home, going at their own pace. Passing by some of the residents who were now up and about their day. Some were on their way to check their crops, while others were on their way to go out into town.

Once they reach the house, they immediately went into the kitchen to see you already washing the rice. “Where are they?” Inunaki opens the fridge, taking a bottle of water and drinking it.

“Over there” you gestured to the open door leading towards the garden, they peek through the door just in time to see Hinata stuff his mouth with a handful of chili. The others watching him with interest as he chews the spicy plant.

“They were actually serious?” Adriah questioned in disbelief, watching as Kageyama did the same thing Hinata had done earlier. “I thought they were just joking”

“At this point, I’m not even surprised anymore”

They step aside as the two ran through the door and towards the fridge, frantically gulping down some cold water to help the pain from the spiciness.

“Sakusa, Ushijima. Why didn’t you two stop them?”

“We did try to stop them” Ushijima answered, watching as Hinata fans his mouth with his hand as he took in deep breaths. “But they refuse to listen”

“Something about their manly pride at risk if ever they don’t do it or whatever it was” Sakusa shrugs his shoulders before he and Ushijima went back to their shared room to change.

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“Is it this one?” Kageyama gestures to the river in front of him, looking over his shoulder as the rest slowly emerges from the canopy of trees.

“Yes, this is the one” Takato place the bucket on the stone covered ground, wiping the sweat running down his face. While they were eating breakfast earlier, Coach Foster sent another text saying that there was a river a few kilometers away from the mansion. With many fishes swimming by and that they can go there and catch some fresh fish if they want to.

Since half of them have never gone fishing before, mainly the younger ones. They collectively agreed that after breakfast they would go to the river, catch some fish, and maybe enjoy a little bit of nature.

“The water is so clear” you crouch down near the riverbank, running your hand through the cold water. The river’s current is not very fast so it was safe to go down there and cool down if ever the heat becomes too much.

“Alright, boys! Let’s catch some fish” Nicollas seems to be overly enthusiastic about this, the man looks so happy to be fishing.

There were not enough fishing rod for everyone, so some had decided to forego them and chose to catch the fish by hand instead. The group split into two, those with the fishing rods stayed in the same area while the rest moved a bit farther away.

“The mosquitos here are so unforgiving, sheesh” Inunaki hand landed on a particularly big mosquito on his arm. The insect squash in between his palm and wrist, with its blood, splattered on his skin.

“I have some insect repellent here in my bag” you sat down on one of the rocks, rummaging through your bag and pulling out two spray bottles of insect repellent. Giving one to Inunaki who started spraying the area around him, before giving it to Sakusa who quickly sprayed his body. Just the thought of insects and other disease-carrying pests landing on him or even just biting him makes his skin crawl.

“Ah Wakatoshi, you got something!” Ushijima grips the rod tighter as he pulled it back. The end bending down at the weight of a possible fish caught at the end of the line. With a flick of his arms, the fish finally jump out of the water, wiggling its tail as it grips the bait in its mouth.

“Oh~” it was a catfish, a big one about the size of one forearm. Ushijima drops the fish in the bucket you gave him as he took another bait from the can and swings the fishing rod back to the water.

The rest stared at their respective floaters, calmly floating above the water, still no signs of it attracting the fishes. They could see the silhouette from their spot, but somehow it seems like the fishes are not satisfied with a bait they offered.

“I think they don’t like it” Adriah muttered as he watches the fish swam past his rod and into the other end of the river. Towards the area when the rest were channeling their inner bear skills.

“Should we go join them? They seem to have caught a lot already” Toshiro pointed to where the rest were concentrating on catching some fishes. They watch as Hinata crouches down tongue struck out in concentration, hands ready, before it strikes fast into the water. Effectively catching a fish.

“Heiwajima-san, you got something” you tap on the libero’s shoulder as he immediately focuses his attention on his fishing rod. He stood up, grab the handle, and started pulling, excited for what it caught.

“The hell?” it was a clump of algae, with sticks sticking out on the sides. The fish that he hopes to be at the end of that line was nowhere to be found.

“The fish outsmarted you” Nicollas pats Toshiro’s back in consolation, as he too is yet to catch his own.

Meanwhile on the other end of the river, just like their other teammates. Some were blessed some were not.

“I mean, catching them wouldn’t be hard right?” Fukuro eyed the fish swimming around his feet. Slowly, he leaned down, before striking his hands into the water to catch the fish, unfortunately though, it swam away.

Shugo snorted, leaning on the rock to balance himself. “This isn’t some sort of survival show; catching one wouldn’t be that easy”

“Oh! Kotaro nice one!” they heard Tatsuto exclaimed, looking over to where they were. They saw Bokuto holding out a big fish with both hands, a wide grin on his face, proud of his catch.

“Good job! Korai, Shoyo!” Oliver’s voice followed, the two mentioned players holding their own fish, as they carefully wade through the water as you stood at the edge of the river. Holding out the bucket for them to drop the fish inside.

Fukuro shot Shugo a look. “You were saying?”

“Nevermind”

The two captains went back to whatever they were doing, determined to catch some fish.

“I think there’s a high chance we’ll catch some on the deeper parts Tobio-kun” Atsumu pointed to an area that was a bit darker than the rest of the river’s area. As he slowly walks over to it.

“Isn’t that a bit dangerous though Atsumu-san?” Kageyama followed behind the older man, as Atsumu waves his hand. Dismissing the younger player’s previous worry.

“Atsumu, Tobio be careful” Oliver called out from the side when he saw them going closer to the parts where there were a lot of rocks protruding.

“It’s fine, it’s fi- ack!” Atsumu stepped on a slippery rock, losing his footing as his body crash into the water. Disappearing into the dark pools.

“Atsumu-san?!” Kageyama stared wide-eyed to where Atsumu was just standing earlier. Atsumu had slipped on a much deeper area of the river, and he doesn’t really know what was down there.

Atsumu emerges, shaking his hair, running a hand on his face to wipe off the running water. “Great, now I’m wet”

He walks towards the shore, the water dripping off of his body and down on the ground.

“Told you to be careful” Inunaki handed him a towel, thankfully. You had prepared towels and extra clothes for everyone in case an accident like Atsumu’s would ever happen. Although the house isn’t too far away, it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared just in case.

“I feel like water went inside my ear” Atsumu mumbled, as you place the bag you brought with you in front of him. He crouches down, pulling out his spare shirt and shorts, before pulling his wet t-shirt over his head.

“Uh… Atsumu?” Toshiro stared at his back wide-eyed, waving your over then pointing at whatever he saw. A gasp leaving your lips.

“Yes? Heiwajima-san what is it?” Atsumu looks over his shoulder, by now Sakusa and Ushijima walk over. Staring at his back in a mix of disgust and fear.

“Miya, do you feel anything?” Atsumu’s eyebrows furrowed at Sakusa’s question.

“What?”

“Atsumu, touch your back” the setter followed Ushijima’s simple instruction; carefully he reaches behind his back, patting it before his hand landed over something slimy. His eyes widened, turning around and looking at them in shock.

“What the fuck was that?!”

His outburst caught the others' attention and went over to him.

“Atsumu-san, y-your back” Hinata stuttered in fear, watching as the animal clung on his teammates back. “There’s a leech on your back”

“Leeches actually” you corrected, shuddering.

“There’s more than one?!”

“Atsumu, hold still” Takato push him back down to sit on the ground, a Swiss knife on his hand.

“Get them off, get them off”

Nicollas and Toshiro went over to assist him. While those who were in the river earlier, immediately started checking their whole body in fear that they too had one.

“This might help” you pulled out a jar of salt from your bag and grab a handful of it before drizzling them on top of the leeches sucking on Atsumu’s back. Their screeches, reaching your ears as their hold on the skin loosened.

“Why do you have salt with you?” Toshiro asks, as you grab another handful and covered the one that Takato successfully removed, killing it.

“I actually don’t know” you laugh, covering the last one with salt, killing it. “I think I accidentally grabbed it earlier”

“Is it gone? Did you get them all?” Atsumu shakily lifts a hand, running it over his back. Letting out a sigh in relief.

“Anyone?” Takato looks to the others as they shook their head; thankfully, none of them was a victim.

“How did it feel Tsum-Tsum?” Bokuto crouches down beside him, as Atsumu shuddered, remembering how he could feel its tiny teeth sinking into his skin and sucking his blood.

“Horrible”

No one went back into the river after that and instead opted to switch using the fishing rod. They stayed there until the sun was high up, and the heat becomes too much for them, so they made their way back towards the house to prepare their food.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

“What are they doing?” Takato observes with curiosity the younger members of the team as they gather in the middle of the living room. With you standing in front and doing weird gestures.

“Charades, I think” from their spot on the deck, they watch with interest how you tried to act out the word you’ve gotten. They aren’t sure if this is a competition or not, the group wasn’t exactly split into teams.

You draw a ball on the air, and just as you were about to add another figure. They all collectively answered. “Volleyball!”

Shugo and Fukuro laugh at the exasperated look on your face.

“Do they have anything else on their head aside from volleyball?” Nicollas shook his head, chuckling. Taking a sip of his tea as he watches you act out the word again.

You draw another ball on the air, then drop it on the ground, and started doing a kicking motion with your foot.

“Soccer!” you shook your head. Bokuto crosses his arms, furrowing his eyebrows as he tries his hardest to guess what it is.

“It’s not soccer?” Ushijima asks as you shook your head at his question. Before doing the kicking motion with your feet again then gesturing to the whole living room area.

“What?”

You pointed to the view outside and made an x mark with your hands, then gestured to the whole living room and did an okay sign.

“So it’s soccer but indoors…?” Hinata trailed off, as you excitedly nodded your head and urge him to find the right word for it. “I don’t know”

“Futsal?” Sakusa added as you clap your hands at him, finally happy that you could move on to another word.

“What’s futsal?” both setters questioned as you took another piece of paper from the bowl you placed on the coffee table.

“It’s basically indoor soccer, but the rules are different. I’m not good with explanations but you can search it up once we go back” you pulled out the paper, and on it ‘little giant’ is written.

You stared at the paper for a few minutes. When you ask them earlier to write down random words on the pieces of paper you gave them, you didn’t expect their choices to be quite hard to act out.

You sighed then pointed at Hinata and Hoshiumi, and gestured to their whole body.

“Short?”

“Hey!” Hoshiumi kicks Atsumu on the leg as the setter glares at him in response.

You shook your head at the answer.

“Tiny?” you settled with that one then you pointed to Oliver. The tallest person within the group.

“Tall?”

“Big?”

“Bald?”

“Atsumu, I heard that!” Oliver’s voice boomed from the outer deck as Atsumu flinch. Not expecting him to hear it all.

“Giant?” you nodded your head at Hinata, before he immediately understood what the word was. “Tiny giant?... no little giant!”

“Yes”

You sat down on the floor, crossing your legs. “Let’s play another game, my hands and feet are tired”

“I think it’s best we all go to bed, that was enough brain exercise”

Everyone stood up, saying their good nights before going back to their own room.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

The next day you were once again woken up at an hour earlier than intended, not because someone was at your door. But because of that rooster crowing endlessly since 1 in the morning. You weren’t bothered by it a few hours ago, but now at this very moment, you want nothing more than wish for it to shut up. It’s so loud too, every time it crows a few more follows.

“These damn chickens” you sat upon your bed, grumbling. Your sleep ruined, listening to them flap their wings a few more times before letting out the signature cock-a-doodle-doo.

You got out of bed and went to the kitchen instead, a delicious cup of coffee now on your mind. You entered the said room and found Takato already sitting in the table reading a newspaper.

“Good morning” he greeted, that smile on his face had you wishing you were a morning person like him. You could do so much more when you’re up the moment the sun starts rising.

“Morning Takato-san” you took the kettle and filled it with water, before putting it on the stove and turning it on.

“Ah, Coach Foster sent me a text last night” he turned on his chair to look at you. “He said he had to cut our break short, the doctor wanted to do the medical check-up for this month a little early. So Coach we’ll be sending the bus to come get us tomorrow”

“Schweiden too?”

“Yes, Coach Suzaku doesn’t trust his team without anyone else to look after them”

You laugh, turning off the stove, and pouring hot water on the mug you prepared. “He doesn’t trust his players unsupervised?”

“No”

You started preparing your drink as Takato continues reading the newspaper, flipping through the pages every few minutes, whilst drinking his own cup of warm beverage. Sitting down, you stirred your coffee, your ears capturing the footsteps approaching the room you’re in.

“These mosquitos are killing me” Kageyama enters the kitchen, scratching his arm, his nails leaving traces of red marks as he rubs off the itch left by the insects. A thin layer of skin peeling off at how harsh he’s been rubbing, but he seemed unfazed by it though. All he wants was for the itch to disappear. “The rooster too, I can’t sleep with it so noisy”

“You too? I thought it was just me, the others don’t seem to mind though”

More bodies entered the kitchen. Yawning and rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

“I swear if I see that chicken I’m going to cook it” Hoshiumi grumbled, flopping down on the empty chair beside Takato. Resting his head on the table as he closes his eyes.

“Right? I can’t sleep with it cock-a-doodlin’ every few minutes”

Each one of them took an empty chair and sat down on it. Waiting for the water Kageyama was heating up so they could have their own cup of their preferred drink.

“I guess us leaving tomorrow is good news then”

Everyone perks up at that, now alert, properly awake, and their faces sporting questioning looks. “We are?”

Takato nods. “MSBY’s monthly check-up was rescheduled to an earlier date-“ he points to the Adler’s team members. “-and Coach Suzaku wants them home too. He said he doesn’t trust them alone”

As expected, the reactions were a mixture of disappointment and relief. Some still wanted to stay, while the others were already excited to go back home.

“Well, what are we going to do today?”

“Remember the old couple we met in one of our jogs?”

Everyone nods their head. “I saw them again yesterday, and they invited us to come to their farm to visit. It’s not too far from here”

“Sounds good”

With that, they prepared their breakfast settling on a light meal. Cleaned themselves up and walk to where the farm the located.

The farmland was wide, rows and rows of vegetables neatly planted side by side, fruit trees standing high and proud. Aside from that, they raise animals as well; pigs, chickens, fishes, and cows. All these crops and produce were either sold to whoever comes to visit their farm - or sent to the market.

“This is such a beautiful place Hisano-san, Jiro-san” Hisano –one of the owners- smiled, with her husband Jiro standing beside her.

“Thank you”

Everyone volunteered to help the couple around their farm, just so it would lessen the stress on their old body.

You stayed near the farmhouse, Hisano was about to collect the eggs from the chicken and she needed the extra hand. You, Bokuto, and Atsumu volunteered to go inside the coop to collect them all whilst Hisano stays outside to collect the baskets.

“Bokuto-san, careful. That hen doesn’t look too happy to see you” you warned, eyeing the hen that was already standing on her nest, feathers spread out in a threat, ready to defend her eggs if needed.

“It’ll be fine” Bokuto reassured you, slowly approaching the animal.

“(Y/n)’s right Bokkun, ya might wanna go to another one first” Atsumu moved to the deeper part of the coop. While you collect the eggs from the chicken that was just beside Bokuto’s.

Bokuto crouch down, the chicken following his movements. He stretches his hand to take the egg at the edge of the nest when the hen pecks his arm.

“Ow hey!”

“Told ya to go to another one” you heard Atsumu say from the back as you turn to Bokuto nursing the spot where the hen’s beak hit, the bruise glowing red.

You expected him to move to another one, but Bokuto being Bokuto, he can be very persistent at times. As expected, he stayed on his spot, having a staredown with the chicken.

“Okay here, listen” he started, eyes never leaving the animal. “I mean no harm I just want t- ow stop that!”

You sighed, shaking your head then standing up from your spot as you walk towards the door. Passing the basket towards Hisano, then grabbing another empty one. Bokuto still has not gathered at least one egg, and now he seems to be giving that chicken a lecture.

“Bokkun, you’ve gone nuts” Atsumu said as he walks past him, fortunately after 4 failed attempts. The chicken has had enough and just let him take the eggs. Bokuto happily collected them all, saying a little thank you, gave her a few pats on the head before giving the basket to Hisano waiting by the door.

You stood there dumbfounded, staring at the chicken that had a beef with Bokuto earlier. Now calm, and sleeping on her nests.

“What just happened?”

The three of you continued to collect the eggs, filling up basket after basket with the produce. Until only one hen was left, and she seems to be more aggressive than the one Bokuto dealt with earlier.

“Calm down I’m not gonna hurt ya”

You and Bokuto stood behind Atsumu, watching at the hen spread her feathers even wider. Angry eyes staring at his colored hair, Atsumu didn’t notice though, too focus on the eggs that were near his reach.

“What the – ow!” the chicken seems to dislike Atsumu’s hair and it now pecking it endlessly, the blond Miya shooing her away, but failed.

“Gah! (Y/n) you deal with this one!” Atsumu pushed you towards the hen as you instinctively held up your hands in defense. Afraid that it might start attacking you as well. You kneeled down, carefully you took the eggs, all the while making sure she doesn’t peck your eyes out.

“Thank you for the help” Hisano says as she accepts the last batch of eggs, arranging them in the tray. Then moving the trays inside the farmhouse so it could be pick up later.

You walk over to where Adriah and Sakusa were washing up the vegetables, a crate on their respective side of the sink filled with the freshly washed vegetables.

“Those cherry tomatoes look so yummy”

“Right? They’re tasty too” Adriah gave you one as you took a bite of it, popping one into his mouth as he chews on the fruit. Ushijima and Kageyama arrive with another batch of eggplants and cabbages. Placing the crates near the sink.

“Ushijima-san, Kageyama. Have you tried these?” You pointed to the tomatoes, Adriah pouring the last batches of tomatoes was washing.

Kageyama took a smaller one, chewing on it as he hums at the flavor. “It actually tastes nice”

“They are” Ushijima added.

“Don’t eat too much of those yet, they need to be sorted first. Some might have worms in them” Sakusa reminded as you both nodded your head. He took a few pieces of eggplants them putting them under the running water.

“(Y/n)!” Bokuto calls you, as you turn to where he and Atsumu were standing. Carrying a hook and some crates. “Hinata and the others needed help with the mangoes, can you come with us?”

You jog over to them and walk towards the area where the mangoes were planted.

“Those mangoes look really delicious” you stood beside Nicollas, looking up the tree while holding a crate. The mango fruits dangling by the branches were big, the tip was starting to ripen up, the perfect time to harvest them.

“They are aren’t they?” Nicollas watches as Hinata and Hoshiumi started climbing the tree. “Shoyo, Korai, careful.”

“Why are they climbin’? they could just use this instead” Atsumu tap the hook with a net strap on it. He and Bokuto standing in front of another mango tree just beside the one Hinata and Hoshiumi were climbing.

“I dunno ‘bout you ‘Tsum-Tsum, it looks kinda fun” Bokuto grabs onto a nearby branch and uses it to hoist himself up. Atsumu facepalmed, letting go of the hook and grabbing the crate instead.

Mango after mango was thrown at you as you try to catch them all, running left and right to make sure they wouldn't hit the ground. From the other tree, you could hear Bokuto shouting. "Nice receive!" to Atsumu when the setter would run to catch the mangoes he would accidentally throw a bit farther than intended.

"This isn't volleyball practice boys" Nicollas laughs before easily catching a mango Hinata dropped.

"Nice receive" you clap as the Brazilian man lets out another hearty laugh.

You look up to Hinata and Hoshiumi again, the two climbing to another branch, to get the rest of the fruit that was at the top.

“(Y/n), do you hear that?” Nicollas taps you on the shoulder as you look at him.

“Hear what?” you look around for anything he could mean, there wasn't anything out of the ordinary. There wasn't anyone else there either, just the 6 of you. The others were back near the farmhouse.

“It’s some sort of buzzing” He explained as you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. A buzzing? You look around the rows of mango trees, carefully observing each branch. Before you finally saw what he meant.

“Uh…” you tug on Nicollas’ shirt, he turned to you pointing at the big beehive at the end of the branch Hinata and Hoshiumi were standing at.

“Oh dear” his eyes widened, slowly the both of you started stepping backwards.

“Hinata get that one” Hoshiumi pointed to the mango just above Hinata, the orange-haired male stretch his arms. But because of his lack of height, it prevented him from reaching it.

“Oi don’t jump, you’ll fall” Hoshiumi warned when he saw Hinata crouch down.

“Don’t worry Hoshiumi-san. I’ll be fine” Hinata readied himself before he jumps up, wrapping his hand around the fruit, plucking it from the branch.

“Shoyo, don’t do that” Nicollas warned, pausing in his tracks. However, you were not staying there any longer, not when that beehive is so close to falling.

You saw Ushijima enters the opening to the mango plantation, about to assist in carrying the crates back to the farmhouse. “Is something wrong (Y/n)?”

You silently pointed to the beehive that was ready to fall, taking hold of his arm and pulling him away and back to the house.

“Should we tell them?” he asks you again, but you shook your head. Nicollas could deal with it.

“Where are the others?” Oliver notices that it was just you and Ushijima who came back.

“We’ll hear from them later” Oliver tilted his head at your answer before a scream from the distance reached his ears. He turns around to see Atsumu, Bokuto, Nicollas, Hoshiumi, and Hinata emerge from the trees, a swarm of bees chasing after them.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

“Korai-kun this is yer fault!” Atsumu screamed the white-haired male that was running beside him snaps his head to glare at the blond.

“Haaaah?! I wasn’t the only one up there you idiot!” Hoshiumi bites back. “Besides wasn’t it Hinata who thought that jumping on the branch was a bright idea?!”

“It was bright at first! I’m sorry!”

“Now, now. We must not point fingers” Nicollas tried to calm them down. “Although, this is Shoyo and Korai’s fault”

“Nicollas-san?!”

You all watch from the sideline as they round the pigpen. Hinata jumping over the fence, running across the inside of the pen before jumping out again.

“Should we help them?” Takato asks in worry, watching, as the bees were so close to reaching the five men.

“And risk getting stung? No way!” Inunaki vigorously shook his head and the others agreed with him.

“Miya-san jump in the fish pond!” you shouted, as they run towards the pond.

Atsumu’s head whips in your direction. “Are ya crazy?! There might be a leech in there!” he shouts, nearly tripping over a rock. “How come the bees aren’t chasing you?! Weren’t you with us earlier?!”

You shrug your shoulders in response. Not wanting to tell them how you know there was a beehive there in the first place.

“Jump in the fucking pond!” Tatsuto shouted.

“No!”

“Oi Miya, choose between the two, bees, or leeches?” Sakusa asks as he watches them run with mirth dancing in his eyes.

“Neither!”

“Just run, they’ll stop eventually!” Shugo offered, as they dash out of the farm and into the streets. Running away as far as they can.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

“Ah! Isso dói” Nicollas hissed as you apply a cold compress over the part where the bee had stung him. Offering him an Advil and a glass of water to help reduce the pain faster.

“Fucking bees” Hoshiumi grumbles as Hisano treats him, having the urge to scratch the itch it left. But restrains himself, or else it’ll become worse.

It took them at least 30 minutes before the bees finally stopped chasing after them, they did get stung and thankfully only once. It was like they had run a marathon, Atsumu’s legs were burning with how much he had to force himself to run faster. The heat wasn’t making it any easier for him either and the only thing he wants right now is to go home.

“When you get back home, go and visit a doctor just to make sure” Hisano gathers the materials used to treat them, and went back inside the house to put them away.

“Let’s go back” Atsumu says as he lays down on the wooden floor, brushing his hair away from his eyes.

“We will in a few minutes, I need to talk to Jiro-san and Hisano-san first” Takato stood up and went inside the house to talk to the couple, as they all waited outside enjoying the afternoon breeze.

They stayed there for a few minutes, feeling the cool air blowing past them as dark clouds start rolling in.

“Okay guys let’s go”

They stood up, dusting away the dirt that got into their pants. Waving goodbye to the couple, the group started their trek back to the guesthouse. So that they could finally get the rest, everyone had been wanting.

Just as they reach the foot of the hill where the house was situated, the rain unexpectedly dropped down. Drenching the dried out soil, and watering the wilting plants.

Later that evening as everyone was lounging around, having had finished packing their things. Fukuro approaches you, his hands behind his back.

“(Y/n)” he called out, you look up from the book you were reading to see him smiling at you. “I heard your birthday is in a month” he showed to you what he had been hiding behind his back. It was a white-colored gift bag with a little gold ribbon tied to the side. “Here you go, an advance gift from me”

He passed you the bag as you accepted the gift with gratitude, thanking the older man. The others now curious as to what it would be, placing it on your lap, you gently opened the bag. Hinata and Bokuto now glued to your side to see what is inside.

“No way” you gasp, as you pick up the signed album of your favorite band. The members’ signatures and their little messages catching your attention. “Hirugami-san thank you so much!”

He smiled at you ruffling your hair. “No problem kid” he went back to where he was seated moments ago. Leaving you to fangirl on your seat, Bokuto and Hinata joining you as they too were a fan of the band.

“I know what you’re planning” Shugo narrows his eyes at the Adlers captain, as Fukuto sat down on his spot among their little circle. “It’s not going to work”

Fukuro help up his hands in defense at Shugo’s accusations, feigning innocence. “Hey, I’m not planning anything”

“Just give it up; (Y/n) won’t leave us for Schweiden” Shugo shots Fukuro a smirk as the Adlers captain mirrored it with his own.

“We’ll see”

The rest could see the spark that flashed between their eyes, challenging each other to yet another unsolicited competition.

“Okay stop it you two, we have a game to play” Oliver calls them out as they snap out of it. Finally focusing back on the card game, they were playing a few minutes ago.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

The next morning, the bus of both teams had arrived early at around 8 am. They loaded their luggage into the vehicle, making sure nothing was left behind. All the bags and other souvenirs they had pick up from randomly walking around were stuffed inside and ready to be brought home.

“The next time we see each other again, it will be on court”

That was the last thing they said to one another before they piled into their respective bus. Situating in their chosen seat as the driver starts the engine, then driving back home.

"This was a fun trip" Shugo nestled himself in his chair, leaning on the window as he eyes the passing scenery. "Wouldn't mind going back here again"

"Yeah"

They stayed quiet after that, once again falling asleep through the whole ride.

"Wait guys, where's (Y/n)?" Inunaki's voice rang through the bus as their eyes snap open.

"What do you mean? She's over there" Bokuto pointed to where you were usually seated, but the spot was void of your presence. He stood up from his seat, looking around the empty seats but his eyes never found you.

"Was she still inside the house?" Hinata asks in worry. Takato's phone rings your name on the caller ID. He accepted the call and put you on speaker.

"(Y/n)!"

"I can't believe you guys left me behind!"

"We're sorry (Y/n), we thought you were inside the bus already. Where are you right now?" Takato says as Oliver tells the driver to turn around to get you.

"I'm in Schweiden's bus, I'm riding with them"

"Wait what?" Shugo stood up from his seat and motioned for Takato to give him the phone. "(Y/n), where are you?"

"I'm with Schweiden" Shugo heard shuffling from the other side as the phone was pass to another person.

"Shugo!" Fukuro's voice rang from the other side of the phone. "Thanks for the new manager!"

Shugo's eye twitches, as he listens to the man laugh. Cursing under his breath as the bus drives back. The driver going as fast as he can, all the while making sure to keep them from any accidents.

The next time you go on trips they really need to keep an eye on you, or else you will get snatched away.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

a/n: that charades part was so messed up, I haven’t played charades before guys. So I’m not exactly familiar with how it goes. hahaha

[acraftedmistake]

A Person Who Has Never Played MCSM Writes A Story About MCSM Chp. 15

CHP 15!!!!! Some good times and bad times lie ahead...... 

Enjoy!

“Everything okay?” Jess asked. Aiden was about to leave the house but had stopped halfway out the door, turned back around, and scanned the first floor while Jess and Olivia waited for him.

“Yeah.” Aiden said slowly as he began to close the door, twisting the knob to make sure he wouldn’t accidentally lock the three of them out, “Just thought I heard something.” He walked away from the house and patted his hair down. “You two ready to go?”

“Mhm!” Olivia finished zipping up the olive green jacket Stella had lent her. She was hiding her face with the hood of the gray sweatshirt Cassie gave her the day before as well. She knew there weren’t too many people out at this hour, but better safe than sorry.

Jess was wearing the leather jacket and beanie again, but he wasn’t too concerned about hiding his face this time. Earlier, he made a minor complaint that his clothes felt rather stiff after wearing them for a few days straight, to which Aiden promised that once they got back home he would throw their clothes in the washer.

“Let’s get going!” Jess said, adjusting the beanie on his head. Originally, Jess wasn’t too thrilled at the idea of going out at this hour. Knowing there might be Awakening members roaming around, or his alternate self--who had no problem beating Radar in broad daylight--made Jess uncertain over the safety of Obsidian Town’s streets. Aiden assured him that they’d be alright, it’d be three against one, and--in his words--he ‘Wants to do somethin’ nice for Olivia after last night’.

Jess appreciated the thoughtfulness, and in the end, visiting Olivia’s grave was up to… Well, Olivia, but he’d still be ready in case a creep tried to pull something.  

Jess couldn’t really blame Olivia for wanting to check out her grave. It’s her place of death. When would you ever get an opportunity to visit a place like that again? Not to mention, Jess had been wanting to get a better look at Obsidian Town rather than getting glimpses or constantly staring at the ground.

The three walked to the left and started their journey to the cemetery. Aiden and Olivia were making small talk, so Jess took this time to absorb his surroundings.

Up ahead, he could spot a tall, crooked, ivory colored tower in the distance. That must’ve been the library Olivia mentioned before. Even from all the way over here Jess could see how ruined the place was. Cracks stretched across it, it was riddled with holes, and it looked moments away from collapsing.

Jess scanned the streets. The long, thin black lamp posts on each side had thin string-lights tied to their tops that stretched across the streets in a zig-zag like manner. It’s a shame they weren’t on at the moment, they must’ve been wonderful when lit.

There were empty stalls they’d pass by occasionally. Colorful, patterned tents protected the bare tables, empty boxes, and scraps sitting underneath. Jess noticed each stall had string lights, small lanterns, or candles for light. He’d catch quick glimpses at folded signs tucked away and papers taped onto poles advertising items and prices. Seeing all of this reminded him of the farmer markets Beacon Town. Jess would always act so crabby when he woke up early for them, but it wouldn’t take long for him to get hyped up and dashing around the place until closing time.

The stalls and all were nice, but Jess couldn’t help but find Obsidian Town’s buildings to be… Underwhelming.

Many of the buildings, from what he could see, were constructed with the same materials: stone, wood, bricks, concrete, the occasional polished granite and diorite, and the rare terracotta. There were variations with the colors, but seeing the same materials got real tiring real fast.

And most structures here were just shapes. That’s all that could really be said. Squared, rectangled, plain shapes to fit the equally-plain materials. Even the sizes of the buildings felt plain. Many were one to two stories, a large handful reached three, and hardly any were four.

Jess was so used to Beacon Town’s monstrous structures, giant jungle trees sprouting from windows, walls of colored glass creating magnificent designs, and bridges stretching from roof to roof that connected the town together. The fun types of builds! It might sound chaotic but that’s what made Beacon Town feel like home. Obsidian Town was just that. A town.

‘Don’t think the people here can risk being experimental, to be fair.’ Jess told himself as he remembered how often quakes struck. He thought back to his town again. He thought about how so many homes would quickly collapse the moment a strong-enough quake would hit. Beacon Town was fun, but it wasn’t built with ‘sturdiness’ in mind, unlike Obsidian Town.

While the construction and sizes of these buildings were on the more ‘basic’ side, the way the citizens decorated the exteriors of their homes and stores was magnificent. Oh, how he loved their decorations. From markets using barrels, wagons, and carefully stacked crates to advertise their fresh fruit and flowers, to cafes that’d have their furniture with their own color schemes and accessories to make them stand out from one another. Some places had porches decorated with flowers and swinging benches, while others had balconies with tiny lights.

Jess would get a second to peer into windows they’d pass by, catching glimpses of interiors that’d tempt him to come closer and press his face against the glass to get a better look. Actually, he hadn’t noticed it right away, but so many windows in Obsidian Town were colored. They didn’t have any intricate designs--a majority of them were one solid color--unlike the stained glass back at the Order Hall, but they were still charming. He pictured in his head how vibrant the streets must be when night comes… The lights from the inside mixing with the colors of the glass must be magnificent.

One place that REALLY caught Jess’ attention was a stone gray building tucked between two larger ones. It had a simple square base, but had a noticeable tilt to it. It had a staircase that wrapped around it’s walls and led to the roof, where a smaller room sat atop, equally slanted. A wooden sign hung from above the door and had the words “Glass Art” on it. Purple, pink, and blue glass shards and chimes were held by opaque strings from the overhang; there was a large, round, beautiful stained glass window with the same colors beside the door.  

The glass art reminded Jess of Ivor and his potions. Man… How is Ivor? Is he doing alright? Is he worried? Hopefully he’s not working himself to the bone trying to find a way to save him and Olivia. Jess couldn’t wait to get back home and give that old man a big ol’ hug.

Come to think of it, has anyone mentioned anything about potions while they’ve been here? He doesn’t remember Olivia’s book talking about them, nor any of Aiden’s friends bringing them up… Are there no potions here? Or maybe there’s a lack of materials? They couldn’t go to the Nether or mine without a license--which STILL boggles Jess’ mind--so that probably made gathering resources hard. How would Ivor react to this? He’d probably say: ‘Pah! A universe without potions is a miserable one. Back in my day, we’d travel hundreds of miles to find the finest ingredients for our--’

“Jess!” He heard Olivia call his name. He spun around and saw her and Aiden standing under a stone arch. Olivia had her hands on her hips.

“You done dreamin’?” Aiden asked.

Jess didn’t realize how far he had strayed from the two. He hurried over and joined them at the arch.

“Sorry, sorry, I was busy thinking.” He skidded to a halt and fixed his beanie.

“Just glad nobody saw you.” Aiden said, “I almost stopped her from calling you cause I wanted to see how far you’d walk off.”

“Could you imagine if he got caught like that?” Olivia asked, “One moment he’s strolling through the streets, and the next he’s being pounced on by guards all because he was too busy sightseeing.” Her and Aiden chuckled at the thought.

“Oh, so it’s a crime to appreciate a town now?” Jess dramatically placed his hands on his hips, mimicking Olivia’s posture.

“It's illegal for you.” Aiden said, “Now come on, there’s a shortcut through the park.”

Aiden walked through the moss-covered stone arch. On each side of the arch were thick, green hedges that boxed in the park. Olivia noticed that, unlike the buildings in this town, the hedges didn’t form an actual shape; it would jut in and out at random, creating odd angles and corners. It was strange but charming.

A path that started under the arch and looped around the area, creating a horseshoe-like shape. Aiden ignored the path and continued walking straight through the grass. Olivia saw the usual things most parks had: Benches, lampposts, a sign telling people not to litter. She also noticed leftover chalk on the sidewalk, laying right beside children’s drawings of stick figures and hopscotch.

Obsidian Town’s park was small, nice, simple, and… Honestly a little dark. The thick clouds were already blocking most of the sun’s light, but the few, tall, thick trees had branches that hid nearly every inch of the sky. Despite how dim it was, Olivia could still spot wild flowers sprinkled around the grass, along with the bugs buzzing around them.

Honestly--and Olivia felt bad thinking this--she preferred this sort of park over whatever the heck Beacon Town had going on. Yes, Beacon Town was great in it’s own way. People could build whatever they wanted, and that’s wonderful, but sometimes she’d just like to take a walk without a constant ruckus surrounding her. Sometimes she just wanted peace and quiet--

“That guy’s missing his entire head!” Jess suddenly whisper-shouted as he lightly shook Olivia. Her heart started beating frantically as she hurriedly spun her head around. Her mind was going all over the place. Was it a decapitated corpse? A strange, alternate-universe monster? Or--or--

It was a statue.

“Jess, you nearly gave me a heart attack.” She sighed with relief.

“Sorry,” He took his hands off of her and pointed, “check it out though!”

Both Olivia and Aiden were looking at the statue now. It was a man frozen midrun, an axe held back--stuck in a swinging motion--while the other hand held up his battered shield, which covered his face. If he had a face, that is. It had to be The Impossible Man. Olivia wasn’t sure who else it could’ve been.

“He’s definitely seen better days.” She said under her breath. Besides his entire head missing, a majority of his body was covered in dirt, children’s chalk, and other strange stains. Cracks started from his broken neck and traveled to his chest, his armor was chipped and scratched, and a good portion of his axe had broken off as well.

“Yeah, I think there’s a couple more statues around here?” Aiden mentioned as they continued walking, “They’re all in pretty bad shape. The kids like to mess with them.”

Aiden scanned the park. “There’s one,” He pointed to the upper corner on the left side of the park. A statue was placed on a podium right in front of a tree. Despite the fact one of his legs was missing, he appeared to be sitting comfortably, gazing at the tree tops peacefully.

“Annnndddd…” Aiden kept turning his head in different directions, “I’m pretty sure there was a head somewhere… Oh!” He spun around, walking backwards now as he pointed to the direction of the entrance. Jess and Olivia followed his finger, their eyes landed on a wooden bench--and right beside it was a small column with a broken bust of the man on top. Olivia couldn’t make out much of the man’s face from here, but she kept getting the eerie feeling that his fractured eyes were somehow watching her. Constantly. Unblinking. She shuddered.

“You think the quakes are the reason they’re missing some parts?” She heard Jess ask aloud.

“I find it really hard to believe they somehow stood through all of those quakes and just lost a head or a leg. They might've been stolen.” Olivia theorized.

Jess put his hand on his chin, stroking an imaginary beard, “I think I remember seeing Hadrian have a couple of statue parts at his place…”

“What? You think old people just like to steal random body parts during their free time?” She grinned.

“That’s what I’d like to do when I retire!” He chuckled. Olivia rolled her eyes playfully.

The three came to a stop in front of a wall of hedge that stood a couple inches taller than Aiden. Unlike the rest of the hedges, this one probably hasn’t been trimmed in months. The surface was extremely uneven; hundreds of tiny branches and leaves stuck out and got tangled with one another. This hedge was also covered in flowers. Tons of them. Clusters of fluffy-looking, light pink flowers were scattered throughout, and were nearly as big as Olivia’s face. The ground was covered in old petals.

Olivia made sure that every strand of hair was tucked inside her hood. There was no way she wanted to spend the rest of the day picking out the twigs, leaves, and petals that’d get stuck in there.

Aiden walked to the right, staring into the bush and running his hand over it as he mumbled to himself, trying to remember where the shortcut was. Olivia and Jess awkwardly shuffled along. Aiden soon stopped, crouched down, then put his hand into the bush. He then took it out, huffed, scooched over a couple more inches, and repeated the process.

After a minute of searching, Aiden started talking to himself. “Maybe it’s on the left side? I could’ve sworn we--!” Aiden suddenly fell forward and into a large hole in the hedge.

Man, if Aiden hadn’t fell through, Olivia would’ve also thought he’d forgotten where the entrance was. The branches hid the hole well.

Jess helped Aiden to his feet. Aiden thanked him as he moved aside, motioning towards the hole.

“You guys go ahead.” Aiden said, “I’ll wait for you to go through.”

Jess and Olivia glanced at each other before Jess gave her a little bow, “After you.”

“How kind.” Olivia curtsied. She crouched and crawled through. The dirt was already making her pants a little damp.

Luckily, despite a few scratches, the crawl only lasted a few seconds.

She got up, cleaned herself off, and waited for the boys.

Jess’ head soon popped out from the hole. Leaves and tiny branches were caught in his hair. He wriggled himself out and brushed off his clothes.

“Here, let me help with your hair.” Olivia started plucking the sticks out.

“Thanks!” Jess said happily as he took off and shook the leaves off his beanie.

It was quiet for a couple of moments as they cleaned themselves up. Olivia felt her smile twitch.

“Hey, Jess,” She started slowly, “I’m… I’m sorry.”

Jess put his hat back on, “What for?”

“I know you don’t have the best feelings towards Aiden right now,” She stared at her feet, “I hope it doesn’t feel like I’m dragging you along.”

“What? No, no, no!” Jess exclaimed, “Look, I was real mad last night, but I wanted to go with you!”

Olivia brought her head back up to Jess, a tiny smile of relief on her face.

“And I’m sticking to my word. We’ll stick together no matter what.” Jess shoved his hands into his pockets. “And uh… We don’t really have a choice when it comes to trusting Aiden and his friends, but things aren’t gonna get better if I keep blowing up like I did yesterday--” A sudden grunt interrupted Jess and caused both of them to jump.

They turned to see Aiden struggling to get out of the bush. How much did he hear? Hopefully not too much. Hopefully.

Aiden tries to use his free arm to pull the rest of his body out, but after a few more seconds he stopped fighting and let his face fall to the ground.

“... I’m stuck again.” He could hear Olivia and Jess snicker as they grabbed his hand and began to pull. They were able to pull him out in no time.

“Thanks.” Aiden said as he shook off the dirt--and the embarrassment. “The memorials are on the other side of the cemetery. Should only take a minute to get there.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When they entered the cemetery, Jess kept his eyes peeled for any familiar names on the gravestones. A few graves had rather unusual colors to them. There was a dusty red one, an uncommon shade, but not odd. Then he’d walk by a blue one; he’s never seen a grave that color before--well, Reuben’s memorial had bits of blue in it, does that count?--Then he walked by a purple grave, a green one, an orange one?

“This is… The happiest looking cemetery I’ve ever seen.” Olivia said as she beheld the rest of the graveyard.

“Is that a compliment?” Aiden asked.

Olivia kept staring at tombstones until she finally said “I don’t know, I’ve just never seen a place for the dead look so… Lively.”

Taking in the rest of the graveyard, Jess had to agree . What was usually a dark, gloomy, dreary place was so, so vibrant. Even under this cloudy, dull weather, the many colors still popped. This was more like a miniature festival than a cemetery! Many tombstone tops looked like roofs with their pointed tops and little overhangs. Their heights and widths would range from short and broad to tall and scrawny. Heck, Jess could spot a couple of graves as tall as him.

“What the heck are your cemeteries like?” Aiden glanced back at them.

“Plainer colors, I guess?” Jess shrugged, “You know, blacks, grays, browns, nothing too flashy.” The only exception Jess could think of was, once again, Reuben's memorial.

“Really?” Aiden sounded genuinely baffled by this. “We hardly got any of those. What do they mean?”

Olivia and Jess exchanged confused expressions with each other before Jess faced Aiden again, “Sadness? Loss? I don’t think there’s any real meaning behind those colors, honestly.”

“Right, we don’t typically associate bright colors with the dead.” Olivia added in, viewing the cemetery again. Scrawny trees and tiny flowers with stems that reached her knees that were peppered around the area; most were in between the graves. She thought about Aiden’s question, “I’m assuming the colors here represent something specific?”

“Yeah, buncha things. Too many for me to keep track of, but I remember the important ones.” Aiden started as they continued walking down the damp dirt path. “When a person dies, their friends and family can choose the color of their grave. It’s usually… Like… Hm. It’s supposed to show what the person was like when they were alive, ya know? Yellow for the happy people,” He explained while pointing to a shorter grave of said-color, “orange for determination, that sorta stuff. Stella’s memorized ‘em all. If you ever wanna know more, she’s the person to ask.”

As Aiden kept talking, Olivia and Jess kept taking in their surroundings. Jess had noticed something. Every single grave they passed was decorated with gems. The gems were placed close by the names and dates of those who passed, and seeing so many of them in various shapes, colors, and sizes made him curious…

“Hey, uh, what’s with the gems?” Jess spoke up, “Are they real?” He was wondering if maybe they were regular stones that were carved and painted. There was no way Obsidian Town could have an overabundance of minerals, especially since the citizens needed a mining license.

“Nah, they’re glass.” Aiden replied, “I thought they were real myself until we had to choose some gems for Lukas--” He suddenly stopped in his tracks. Jess and Olivia peered over and saw a lit redstone torch placed in front of a grave. Aiden plucked the torch from its place, a scowl on his face as he blew out the flame then chucked the burnt wood across the cemetery.

“Anyways, what was I sayin’?” He began walking again, as if nothing out of the ordinary happened.

‘What was that about?’ Jess thought to himself. It must’ve been linked to the cult, right? Why else would Aiden have done that?

“Right!” He snapped his fingers,” So the gems are basically like the colors of the graves. We had to go to this special place where the people there pulled out huge chests filled with those things. Took us forever to pick ‘em out.”

“Each color chosen means something for the person that passed…” Jess whispered to himself as Aiden’s words from earlier echoed through his mind. He was rather fond of how Obsidian Town remembered their dead. It was more uplifting than what he was used to. Maybe he could make some changes to the graveyards once they get back to Beacon Town.

Aiden was quiet for a minute before he added, “Gill took the longest. He was real worried his gem wouldn’t be good enough.” He paused. “He… he ended up crying.”

His voice got quieter, “I hated seeing him like that.”

Jess and Olivia both tried to think of what to say, what ‘s the next best thing to do, but Aiden immediately changed the subject.

“What do you guys put on your graves?” Aiden asked, he sounded ‘normal’ again, but kept facing away from the two.

Jess hesitated, “Names. Dates.”

“A description of the person who passed.” Olivia added.

“Just words? Doesn’t that get a little… Depressing?” Aiden narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, you think that’s sad? We once wrote out an entire dictionary on a guy’s grave back in our universe.” Jess answered jokingly. Olivia let out a little giggle, and they even heard a chuckle out of Aiden.

That small chuckle was all Jess needed to hear to continue telling quips and share short, funny stories at Aiden’s way to try and lighten the mood. Aiden was soon sharing his own experiences mixed in with his own humor. Aiden and Jess were bouncing off of each other, making fun of their own universes while Olivia would throw in her commentary every now and then.

‘This is so weird…’ Olivia thought to herself. The three of them laughing while walking through a cemetery… it’s something that’d usually feel inappropriate to do, but here she wasn’t all that bothered.

This whole experience has been surreal. Entering a rainbow of a cemetery through a bush felt like something that’d only happen in her dreams, yet here she was. Honestly, it was a nice change of pace to not feel worried for her and her friend’s life for a moment.

She had nearly forgotten the dread she felt when she originally suggested coming here.

And then Aiden spoke up.

“Okay, okay, we’re finally--” Aiden stopped. “Here.” All happiness in his tone had left.

That didn’t sound good. That didn’t sound good at all. Olivia grabbed onto the string of her hoodie and began to pull on it as she slowly peered over Aiden. Standing before him were two graves. Olivia’s eyes were drawn to the shorter one. She trailed down the grave, the coral color fading into a deep shade of red until she stopped at the flowers laying beside a lit, redstone torch.

Olivia held her breath. Jess got close to her as Aiden approached the torch. He grabbed it by it’s barely-scorched base and brought it to his face to blow out the flame. Instead of throwing it away like the last one, he just placed it to the side, only a few feet away from the grave. He wore an expression neither of them have ever seen on him before. Fear? Heartache? Pain.

“We’re here.” He said again. His voice completely devoid of energy. His body was stiff as he walked to the side of the grave, with his hands curled into tight fists and placed at his sides. There was another redstone torch placed in front of the grave to the right, but Aiden didn’t say anything. Olivia took a few small steps forward and gave him a small nod.

As she knelt down in front of the grave--in front of her grave--she heard Aiden tell Jess ‘Come on’, followed by the sound of footsteps growing distant.

She sat alone at her grave.

She didn’t want to read the text. She really didn’t. Isn’t that funny? That was one of the main reasons she wanted to come here. To see if there was a chance she could read about her death, what happened to her, but now that she was here, she was terrified. She looked everywhere else but the epitaph before her. She stared at the small bouquet of flowers on the dirt--the dirt… She noticed it seemed… Messier compared to the other graves. Like someone tried digging through it. The bouquet, though! There was a mix of flowers held together by a red ribbon. Clusters of tiny, magenta flowers, a few pointed, white flowers with many petals, and a type of flower she actually knew the name of: Lilys.

She then brought her gaze up, catching a quick glimpse of her name written in gold, to observe the gems placed into the tombstone. Two orange gems, one yellow, one gold, another maroon, and the gem in the center was amber. They formed an arch around the words in the center.

‘Stop avoiding it.’ She told herself, but she didn’t listen. She turned to Lukas’ grave. She had to see his. She had to. It was right here and--and he’s her friend.

His grave was turquoise and had thin, white stripes that stretched across the top, and seven gems instead of six. Three on each side, and the last gem placed above his epitaph. He was given flowers as well.

The words engraved in the stone read: “LUKAS: Courageous and loyal. An inspiring leader and a brilliant friend.”

Short but wonderful. It was perfect. Reading it over and over again, she thought about just how lucky she and Jess were with having their friend still around. He’s done so much for them. Constantly helping Jess run Beacon Town, aiding the citizens, always visiting her and Axel whenever he got the chance… He could’ve left them during that Witherstorm. He could’ve ditched them at any moment when things got too rough, but he never did.

‘I need to give Lukas a hug when I get back.’ Olivia thought to herself. Lukas could still leave them one day without warning. He could finally get sick of them, die in a brutal fight, or--or end up being kidnapped like this Lukas--Olivia squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to get those awful thoughts out. Don’t think about that. He’s still alive. He still cares about them. He loves them.

Olivia kept her eyes closed for a moment longer before finally bringing her attention back to her own grave. She forced herself to read the words written for her; “OLIVIA: An intelligent, creative, and hardworking engineer. A bright spark of joy even during the darkest of days.”

Olivia stared at her words. A weird sense of reassurance was arising. She’s never thought highly of herself. She’d sometimes convince herself that others couldn’t tolerate her, and that she was one mistake away from ruining everything. She wondered if this Olivia ever felt a similar way. Was she constantly trying to make sure she said and did the right things? Try to fix any issue immediately so her friends didn’t think she was useless? Always second guessing her own thoughts?

Did this Olivia know her friends always loved her? Or was she riddled with fears and doubts until her sudden end?

‘She died a couple of years ago, didn’t she?’ Olivia tried to recall any mention of her death from Aiden. She wasn’t certain, but whether it was a few years ago, or a few months ago, didn’t change the fact that she died so soon.

She was young.

Younger than her.

To have her life end on an abrupt note… It scared her. It scared her so much. Everything could be taken away one day.

As she sat over her body, she felt her fingers begin to dig into the dirt, like they were trying to reach in and find the other Olivia’s hand. A sick form of curiosity made her want to know more. More about this Olivia. Her life. Her mind. To have a connection with her. It was her body she was sitting over, afterall. Her corpse. Her--

“Olivia?” Jess placed his hand on her shoulder. “Are you doing okay?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Come on.” Aiden gave Jess a light tap with his hand. He started walking away from Olivia. Jess hesitated. He looked at his friend for a second more before leaving with Aiden.

“We just needa give her some space.” Aiden said.

“Right, totally understand.” Jess wanted to stick around for a few minutes longer to study his friends’ graves, but that could wait. He didn’t want to make Olivia feel like he was breathing down her neck.

Jess thought back to the many instances where his friends’ lives were in danger, when they were so close to being taken away from him. He hated seeing his friends’ lives at stake more than anything; he’d go through Hell and back to protect them, and to be in a place where their deaths became a reality was so hard to wrap his head around.

Lukas left without a trace. No familiar faces to comfort him during his last moments, only enemies looming over him while he was in an unknown place. Just thinking about his fate made Jess worry sick about his Lukas back at home.

It was silent for a few minutes. Only their footsteps filled the void.

“So…” Jess started, wanting to make small talk, “What do the colors for Olivia and Lukas’ graves mean?”

“Olivia’s creativity.” Aiden replied, sounding short. “And Lukas’--” He paused and scanned the cemetery. He took a left turn and continued walking between the graves. “He’s…Don’t make fun of us, but his color stands for friendship.”

“Friendship?” Jess perked up at the word.

“I know, it’s probably super cheesy or whatever, but it fits him. It really does.” Aiden said.

“No, no, I completely agree! He’s a great friend--one of the best! If I had to recount all the times he’s been there for me, we’d be here all day.”

“Right. Same here.” They stopped at another grave with another redstone torch in front of it. This grave was short and purple, with many cool-colored gems placed in it. Jess didn’t recognize the name.

Aiden grabbed the torch and blew out the flame. Jess decided to ask another question.

“Any idea why The Awakening puts those torches there?”

“Probably for no good reason.” Aiden answered through gritted teeth as he chucked the wood as hard as he could across the cemetery.

There was something unnerving about the torches left at the grave. Their red glow would take over the colors of the graves, and their light under a thick, cloudy sky would claim your attention and make it hard to pull away. Their soft crackling would fill in the silence whenever he and Aiden didn’t talk; the occasional loud snaps from the flames would make Jess believe there was a threat following them.

Jess stopped at a tombstone and picked up a vase of flowers that had fallen aside. “The gems on their graves, what do they mean? Do you remember ‘em?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’d remember what the gems on my own friends’ graves would mean!” Aiden snapped.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that!” Jess held the vase tighter. “I was just--I wanted to know more about them.” Great. Now they’re both feeling terrible.

Aiden’s demeanor softened when he saw Jess’ reaction. “No, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I’ve been--” He hesitated, “I’ve just been thinking about someone is all.”

“No, it’s no problem.” Jess carefully placed the small vase back upright. He folded his arms and joined Aiden’s side.

“I’m uh, still interested to hear bout those gems if you’re wanting to share.” He said.

“Yeah. I can do that for ya.” Aiden answered.

“For Lukas,” Aiden began, walking through the grass. “Gill chose blue. I remember that one’s loyalty. Gold for compassion. White for safety--he’d always double check our belongings every time to make sure we were prepared.”

Aiden stopped and grabbed a torch, “It was kinda annoying, but I miss it now.” He blew it out and threw the wood.

They kept moving.

“Rose picked pink.” Aiden started running his fingers over the grave tops, “She was real embarrassed when she chose it. Kept refusing to show us cause she thought we’d laugh at her.”

“I’m guessing pink’s for love?” Jess said, trying to make sure he wouldn’t trample any flowers.

“Yeah, and--” Aiden chuckled, “Rose wanted his description to be: Pretty blond dork with a decent sense of style. All of us were actually on board with it.”

“Did you end up pulling through with it?” Jess asked.

“Nah, the guys making the grave wouldn’t allow it.” Aiden spotted a couple of gravestones with torches by them. They were already burnt out. He grabbed two of the torches while Jess grabbed the last.

“What a bunch of killjoys.” Jess joked. Aiden laughed as he prepared to throw the burnt wood. Jess mimicked each step of Aiden’s. Hold, aim, then throw. Once they lost sight of the rubbish, they followed the dirt path to the entrance of the cemetery.

The cemetery wasn’t boxed in by hedges like the park, instead, it had a stone wall.

Aiden leaned against the wall. It didn’t look like the most comfortable surface--the rocks were jagged and would probably fall apart in moments--but he seemed unaffected by it. Jess stood nearby and took a peek through the gate beside them. Unlike the rough, uneven walls, the black fence was tall, sturdy, and had a huge, elegantly curved arch.

“Olivia’s got a few similar gems,” Aiden started, putting his hands in his pocket, “Two golds, yellow… She’s got amber--Man, I always mix those three up. They sound different enough but when they’re placed by each other, they all look the same. Amber’s slightly darker than yellow, but not as dark as gold. Amber’s positivity.”

“Lotta happy ones for her.” Jess commented. He’d been staring at the decorated buildings through the gate’s bars as he listened. He could spot bits of pots filled with flowers on the other side of the wall, their colors as eye-catching as the cemetery.

“Always made us happy.” Aiden said with a shrug. “She also had… Ah…” He pressed his lips together, “Orange! She had that one too. And then there’s…” He had to stop to think again.

“It’s not… Well, it looks like red, but it’s darker… Ah, shoot.” Aiden cursed to himself.

“Carmine? Maroon?” Jess tilted his head.

Aiden snapped his fingers, “Maroon! Right! Creativity; same thing as her grave. Picked it myself.” He said rather proudly.

“You guys really cared about her.” Jess mumbled. He tilted his head towards Aiden, “And I’m sure Olivia loved you guys all the same.”

Aiden stared back at him.

A small smile spread across his face, “Thanks.”

The two became quiet and looked over the array of colorful graves before them. The clouds slowly began to part; gems glistened as the rays of sun shone down on them.

“Should we check on Olivia now?” Jess asked after a few minutes of silence.

Aiden got off the stone wall and stretched his back, “Yeah, let’s go.”

~ ~ ~ ~

When the two returned to Olivia, the last thing they wanted to see was to see her in distress. The tips of her fingers were shoved into the dirt below, her eyes were stuck on the golden words in front of her, her mouth was parted--barely moving--with no voice to match. Jess couldn’t tell if she was trembling or not, but she was scared. Very scared.

Jess bit his lip and approached his friend. Aiden was right behind.

“Olivia?” Jess placed his hand on her shoulder, “Are you doing okay?”

Olivia jumped and jerked her hands out of the dirt.

“Yes--! Yeah, no, no don’t worry, I’m fine. Thanks--thank you for checking on me.” She replied frantically. She took deep breaths.

Before Jess could question anything, Olivia spoke up.

“Aiden, this uh--the substance mixed into the stone,” Her fingers trailed down the tombstone, “is it redstone dust?”

Her voice was shaky.

Aiden glanced at Jess, who was equally nervous as him, then said, “Actually, it is.”

He took a step closer to Olivia, “They don’t usually allow people to mix stuff like redstone or glowstone dust with the colors--especially cause they’re hard to find--but they made an exception for us.”

Olivia nodded along, blinking back tears.

Jess read her epitaph, “Guess all Olivia’s are just the greatest engineers out there, huh?”

“Damn right. She didn’t have a bunch of dust to work with, but she’d still crank out machine after machine like no tomorrow.” Aiden said, “Man, I remember every year for her birthday that’d be all she’d ever ask for. Not weapons, not new journals, not even a dang cake, just redstone dust. Course, the only places you could find ‘em were in caves or old shrines, right?” He asked while facing Lukas’ grave and grabbing the lit redstone torch below.

“Yup, we found a bunch of it yesterday.” Jess said, sitting besides Olivia.

“Right, and since it was so dangerous, she told us to not worry bout gettin’ it because ‘It’d be stupid to risk your life for some red powder’.” Aiden gestured with the torch, the flame getting frighteningly close to his hair.

“Well, I’d always lose track of dates and forget to get her a gift, so one of the other guys would back me up and tell Olivia we bought a gift ‘together’, and I felt so bad.” He thankfully blew out the fire after saying that.

“So then guess what I did one day?” Aiden said.

“Walked out and found a bag of redstone on the ground?” Jess asked sarcastically.

Aiden laughed, “I wish.”  

Aiden began pacing, the trail of smoke whirling around him, “But I decided I’d bust into one of those dumb shrine and find some dust for her, and I didn’t tell anyone bout it besides Jesse. He was on board with the plan, he was great at findin’ stuff, plus two people finding dust was much easier than one.” Aiden fiddled with the burnt wood, “We headed off to the nearest shrine and actually found enough dust to fill up a bag and a half, but cause of the state of that dump, some rooms would collapse after you opened the door!”

“You two ended up getting hurt, didn’t you?” Olivia had her hand on her head, already concerned over the direction of this story.

“Course we did!” Aiden threw his arms up. “I swear anytime the two of us were together, things would fall apart or we’d break a bone--” Aiden stopped his talking to quickly chuck the wood away. “Anyways, anyways, we got back home right on time for Olivia’s birthday and man did we look awful. Clothes were all dirty, got some real bad scrapes on my knees, Jesse grabbed so much dust it looked like his fingers were covered in blood, and I somehow got a black eye? I think the top of a chest smacked me...”

Olivia rubbed her temples, “You two really shouldn’t have risked your lives over a birthday present--”

“That’s exactly what she said!” Aiden exclaimed, “Went through all that trouble, and you know how she reacted?”

“Panicked?” Olivia asked.

“Bet she loved it.” Jess said, giving Olivia a nudge.

“She did--but Hero did she freak out! Dropped her cake and rushed over to get us cleaned up. Olivia was wrapping up one of Jesse’s arms--” Aiden thought to himself for a second, “--I think a big rock landed on it? But she was going off on us. Raising her voice and lecturing us like she was our mom, telling us it’s a miracle we were still in one piece, and why in Hero’s name we did something so stupid.”

“I mean, it wasn’t stupid if things worked out for you.” Jess pointed out.

“Yeah, but still.” Aiden chuckled, “It was stupid. It was so, so stupid. But after that, she loved our present. I’d never seen her smile so much. She was working on her machinery, telling me and Jesse how everything worked while we pretended to understand.”

Aiden carefully leaned on Olivia’s grave, “Hero knows I didn’t understand a single thing she was sayin’, but seeing her so happy…” His smile grew as his voice softened, “It was great.”

“That’s all so sweet…” Olivia spoke softly. “I love it.”

She was shaking again.

Jess turned to his friend to mention something, but stopped when he saw Olivia staring at the ground, fingers picking at the dirt just like she was when they came back. That same, terrified expression on her face.

“Liv--?” Jess mumbled, but Olivia started rambling nonsense.

“I don’t know if my words mean much to you--I know I’m not her--but you’re a good friend, Aiden.” Her nails started to dig into the ground, “All of this, all that you’ve done for Olivia--you--you--Even when I just--” She kept stumbling over her words, “Even when she died one day you kept being so kind to me--”

The more she kept talking, the more concerned--the more scared--Aiden and Jess became.

“Hey, hey are you alright?” Jess reached out to hold her, but Olivia shot her head back up.

“I’m under here.” She whispered. Her voice was so unsteady.

Jess was taken aback, “What?”

“I’m under here.” She said again. “I’m so close.”

Her hand began to claw at the dirt, “I’m so close. My body’s all mangled up in that box below, and--and my hair’s so long now.” She felt sick talking about this, she felt sick thinking about it. “It’d be so easy to just dig myself up. For Aiden to see her again. Jesse--Jess, we’re so close. I could look at myself. Look at my body. I’m--”

“Olivia!” Jess shook her, “Do you want to get out of here?”

Aiden wanted to offer his support, but Olivia instantly got on her feet.

“Yes. Yes I want to leave. I want to go home.” She kept repeating that last sentence while she hugged herself, breathing heavily. She was freezing.

“Right, we need to head back anyways.” Aiden’s stomach was in knots seeing Olivia like this. His hands turned to fists, “I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have taken you here. I’m sorry--”

“Don’t.” Olivia cut in. “I wanted to go. You took me. I saw--I saw what I needed to. I appreciate it. Thank you.” She was stiff as a board.

Olivia took one last deep breath, “Let’s go home.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Damn them.

Damn them all.

Locked every damn door and window in this house. They’re hiding her, he knows they’re hiding her.

Did they really think locking themselves in would stop him? He used to live in this Hero forsaken house; he knows every nail, screw, and plank that makes up this despicable place.

He still remembers that trapdoor on the roof. He knows how to claw his way up there. He’ll pry it open with his own bare hands.

He’ll find her.

He will.

[sw124]

[Lamia-Birdy-Bitty Daily life!13]

/Pro-Revenge/p2

Hello my Lamia lovers how are you all doing, good I hope...

As I promised I would explain everything but if it gets to long I may do a part 3, now things get really sad in this so fair warning to all who have sensitive bitties. Now as you all have read from my last post I told you about Leo, Rosie, Phthalo the Mamba, my relationship with them and the tragedy that followed. At the very end of that I spoke about how Rosie got a phone call that ended with her in pure hysterical crying. Yeah I know, in the last post it didn’t sound like it but cut me some slack here....things were tough and I really didn’t want to describe her crying.

They were int he kitchen while I and the children were in the living room, as much as I wanted to go and comfort Rosie her siblings and Leo’s brother Jon told me this was something that shouldn’t be exposed to. So I was asked to do a lunch run for the kids, Rodger was about to get his wallet but before he could I quickly told him that lunch was on me and not to worry about paying me back. He was taken aback by it but I told him that this wasn’t the time for small things like that, all I wanted was a list of what food to get.

The kids were between 7 and 12 so to satisfy them all I went to the local drive through of every kids favorite places...you know with the Golden Arches you know the one. So I got nuggets, fries, some ice cream for them and brought it back. Also some cheese burgers for the adults, wasn’t that big a deal. When I got back...things hadn’t improved, I had just walked in when I over heard Jon yelling. The kids were all huddling close together and staring at the kitchen, he was yelling into a phone. I go over and motion the kids to follow me, I walk them outside and into the backyard away from the yelling. Rosie and Leo have wooden picnic table outback so the kids ate out there.

While they ate I snuck through the backyard to my place and gathered all my boys and brought them over. I kept Nebula with me while Tundra, Dante, Chip, and Mozart sat with the kids. It was a good idea cause the kids were distracted with the bitties. Tundra bonded with the youngest of the kids while the others played hide and seek. After a few hours of running around Betty called the kids in to wash up cause they were all going out to eat.

I was gathering up my boys to head back to the apartment when Betty rushed out to stop me. She had something in her hand, even from this distance I saw it was cash. She wanted to thank me for helping with the kids but being who I am and how I was raised I told her I couldn’t accept the money. She insisted but again I refused, I explained that now was not the time to be paying people for favors especially with me. Leo never paid me when I voluntarily helped him with yard work so I’m not starting now with any member of his family.

[Needless to say she was taken slightly aback by my words but that smile she gave me told me how proud/happy she was to hear that]

The next couple of weeks had been....slow, I told work about the funeral and let them know when I’d need my time off to attend. They were supportive, after work I’d stop by Rosie’s home and see if she and the rest of her kin needed my help. So far they had things handled with the funeral but were grateful for my help with the little ones [And Phthalo sometimes]. My boys loved it too, Tundra especially.

It was when my boys and I were watching the kids in the front yard that a car pulled up, this car...geez I had to do a double take. I’m not a car buff but I know at least some cars, this one was one of those Aston Martin Rapid S models. Pearl black with silver trim, chrome wheels, I mean this thing looked sharp! Even I know a car like that is beyond my pay grade. Who the hell owned this kind of car?

My question was answered when two men stepped out....dressed like they stepped out of a high end resorts tennis court. You know the pastel polo shirts, white dress shorts, sweaters tied around their shoulders, ball caps and shades. I get if you hear someone dies you’re in a rush to see the family but seriously.....

One of them saw me and walked over, the smell hit me first, one of those overpowering colones that just burnt your eyes.

Stranger1:Hey, this [insert Rosie/Leo’s last name] house?

That tone...it was that kind of tone that makes me wanna slap someone.

Me:....May I ask who you are?

I didn’t want to be rude but I don’t know these guys.

Stranger: You retarded? I asked you a damn question.

I was taken aback by his callousness, I glared at him and repeated my question.

[We’ll call these two Son1 and Son2]

Son1: My dad lives around here, names Leo is this his house or what?

Me: ..Yes this is his house.

With that both men walked up to the front door and just let themselves in, I was just shell shocked, these two were Leo’s boys?! I was so use to Leo’s southern gentlemen attitude I figured that any member of his family would maybe have some similar sensibility. I tried to shake it off an go back to watching the kids an my boys. I had sat down on on the grass and was about to tell the kids some stories when [though faint] I heard shouting. Rodger stormed out of the house, even from this distance I could see he was ready to punch something or someone. Despite that I walked over.

Me: Rodger I’m gonna take the kids to the park nearby.

Rodger: [calmed down a little] That’d be nice, thank you darlin’.

So our impromptu story time was cut short with a walk to the local park just a block away. It has playground equipment, its not that big but the kids didn’t care. They were swinging, jumping, running, playing, basically oblivious to the reason why we were there in the first place. My boys enjoyed it too, Nebula stayed with me obviously. It was about an hour later that their parents drove up to collect them, they thanked me and gathered their kids to head to their hotels to rest. I got my boys and headed back to our apartment, we were walking past Leo’s house and thankfully that Martin was gone. On impulse we walked up the steps and knocked on the door, I just had to check on Rosie.

The door flung open and I was greeted with a very angry Jon, it startled me but thankfully it disappeared when he saw me. He apologized up an down thinking I was one of the sons, I told him that its ok and informed him that all the kids were with their parents. He thanked me again, he then sat down in one of the rocking chairs set out on the porch.

He started asking me questions.

Jon: Them boys didn’t do anything to you now did they?

Me: Pardon?

Jon: Did those boys say anything or do anything to you?”

Me: Well one of them called me retarded when I asked him who he was but other then that he didn’t say or do anything to me.

Jon glared and apologized for their behavior, he then asked me to sit down on the bench next. I told him whatever the history between these boys and their parents wasn’t any of my business and if Rosie or anyone else doesn’t want to share it with anyone outside the family I have to respect that. That brought a smile to his face, I still took his offer and joined him him. I diverted the conversation instead to his childhood with Leo, that eased whatever tension he had. After some trips in memory lane he had fully calmed down, Rosie, Phthalo, Betty and Rodger joined us outside and continued the story telling. Which lead to making dinner together, a big pot of creamy seafood gumbo. After dinner I took my boys home.

Finally the day of the funeral was set, I informed work and got a week off, took Tundra and Dante to do some shopping for some proper clothing and prepped myself for...well you know.

The day finally came and I got myself ready, I was debating on bringing my boys but after some debate I chose to bring Chip and Dante since they were the closest to Leo. Mozart, Nebula and Tundra didn’t mind, two of them were happy to stay home and nap while Tundra watched a marathon of “How its made” on the science channel.

The three of us got there and were greeted warmly by Rodger and Jon, Betty complimented my clothes and showed me inside. They held the service in a small chapel inside the funeral home, I finally got to see Rosie and speak to her...sort of. I gave my condolences and she thanked me for attending but then she pulled me in and whispered that Leo left me something in his Will. I wasn’t sure how to react....so I whispered back to her that if he left me money that she could keep it cause I couldn’t accept any money from a friend, even if it was his dying wish I just can’t accept it.

That comment made her smile...it was good to see her smile, soon the service started, I sat in a pew a little towards the back. Don’t think me rude but it was in case I needed to leave the room, not cause I’d get bored but if I started crying, I didn’t want to disrupt anyone speaking or the eulogy itself. I looked around and I actually saw the two sons, at least they had the decency to show up. The funeral ended and an urn was presented to Rosie and Phthalo, everyone sat for a moment of silence with their heads bowed....

[All accept the sons who kept looking at their phones the whole FREAKING TIME!!]

After which the reading of the will was held, I told Rosie though I was invited I’d rather stay away, I didn’t want the sons getting the wrong idea. She understood and told me to come by her place later, after that I said my goodbyes and headed home. When I got back I put my ‘kick around’ clothes on, made some tea, took out some things to bake up some cookies, baked them and sat down with everyone to watch some stuff and...just try an settle after a day like this.

An hour later there’s a knock at my door, I open it to find...Leo’s sons. I had to glare at them.

Son1: So this where you live?

Me: No, I’m only staying here for the funeral. What the hell do you want?

Son1: Our dad mentioned you in his will, left you 200$ and-

Me: Don’t care, I’m lettin yer mom keep the money. I don’t want cash or anything like that, but what I would like to know is how the hell you knew where to find me?

Son1: Ain’t any of your buisness, listen if you know whats good for you, you’ll stay away from our mom and if she passes away in the future an we find out your in her Will we’ll sue you for every penny you got, you understand?

Me: [slams door in his face and tells him to F-off, I then quietly lock the door.]

I storm to my backyard...to find of all people Rosie sitting on one of my lawn chairs. She had a few boxes next to her of kitchen appliances, a countertop pizza oven, air fryer and a lovely ceramic Dutch oven. She gave me a look that said ‘I heard every word so don’t bother lying’. Like I could lie to her at this point, so I explained what they said to me and how I slammed the door in their faces. Rosie told me she’d take care of it, then she presented me what Leo left me in his Will. They were suppose to be my Christmas and Birthday presents but since he wasn’t going to be around to give them to me he was determined be sure I was left with something I’d use. She also handed me the 200$ but like I told the boys I refused the money, she nodded an then countered my words with inviting me to a restaurant with my boys.

I agreed and we all gathered up to go out with her family to eat.

Now your wondering where the Revenge is coming, be patient in the next part is where the Pro Revenge starts to comes in. Please stay tuned.

[for more info on Lamia bitties speak to @vex-bittys and visit her plz, as for Bird Bitties please speak to @coalition-aviary-bitty-adoption for information on them]

[lil-meow-meow-goes-rawr]

An Angel’s Sacrifice

My first Jimin fic!

Guardian Angel!Jimin

2K

angsty

kind of odd, if I’m honest but worth the read

Warnings: mentions of blood and death

The cold, silent air seems to press down around me. Suffocating me. The light breeze carries a few stray leaves, dragging them across the empty streets. I don’t expect to see many people. It’s nearly midnight after all. Yet, as I walk the back streets toward home, I find it unsettling just how quiet it is. Even the dogs along my route are silent tonight.

A full moon shines brightly above me, lighting my path. A few stray clouds drift past, but they’re not even worth noticing. They do nothing to obscure the light.

My feet quicken their pace. A chill runs down my spine but I doubt it’s from the chill of the evening. I feel as if I’m being watched, though there’s no one else around. Even the homeless man who spends his nights on the bench alongside the walking path, isn’t there.

As I round the corner, home only being a block ahead, something catches my eye. To the left, down the stretch of road that ends at a field, is a house I’ve never noticed before. I stop, staring at it. I walk these streets every day. How have I never seen it? My feet move without my consent, leading me toward the unknown building.

Standing before it now, I have to marvel at its beauty. Grand french doors sit in the center of an elegant porch. I count fifteen windows simply on the front of the mansion. Some are domed with a balcony of their own, while others are taller than I am.

I gape at the magnificence of it. Though the mansion is beautiful, it’s clearly been forgotten for many years. The beautiful white walls are chipped and fading to a dull yellow. A few of the windows are broken and it appears as though someone has carved markings into the wooden doors.

I’m so sure that I have never seen it before, and yet something calls out to me. Moving me forward in a trance. The place feels familiar. Like a memory I can’t quite place.

As I ascend the broken stairs toward the doors, I become frighteningly aware of the silence. Even the wind has stopped blowing. The only sound is that of my own jagged breathing and racing heartbeat.

I swallow hard as I reach for the door handle. I’m not sure why I’m about to enter. If I were in my right mind, I would turn and run, putting as much distance between myself and the mansion as I could. However, something’s telling me it’s alright. I can enter.

No.

I need to enter.

Swallowing hard, I pull the door open and a blast of wind barrels into me. I’m prepared for the scent of mold and must that comes with old buildings. What I’m met with instead has me confused. The air is scented sweet. A scent I can’t identify but one that is so very familiar.

I close my eyes and breathe in deep. The sweet scent takes over my senses and for a moment, I believe I can hear someone singing. The voice of an angel. A voice so familiar, it draws me inside and the door swings closed behind me.

The singing stops as soon as I open my eyes. The interior of the mansion is bare. Cobwebs are the only decorations. A thick layer of dust covers every surface, yet it does nothing to mask the beauty of the elegant foyer.

Laughter sounds from the room to my left. The dining room. I’m not sure how I know, but I’m sure of it. I can’t figure out why I’m still there, yet I allow my feet to carry me through the foyer and into what is indeed the dining room. Indents remain in the plush rug from where the table used to reside.

The light from the moon filters through the large, floor to ceiling window, illuminating a dark spot on the floor. My curiosity has me moving forward before I can stop myself. I crouch down to examine the dark spot and it isn’t long before I come to horrifying realization - it’s blood.

Images flash across my vision. Memories of sort. They don’t make sense and they cause my head to spin. Across the images, the only thing that remains constant is a man with soft blue hair and a radiant smile. The singing, the laughter and the sweet scent - they all belong to him.

Swallowing hard, I look up toward the window. The man is there. He’s leaning casually against the edge of the window sill, watching me with curiosity. His pink top flutters lightly in the breeze coming through the open window. The man is ethereal in his beauty. I’ve never seen anyone like him before.

He runs his hand through his blue hair in an attempt to move it away from his face, but it simply falls back into place. His eyes are soft, but I detect a hint of frustration behind them.

Jimin. That’s his name. I know him, yet I can’t remember where I’ve seen him before. Still, I know I’m safe around him.

I slowly rise. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question.” He retorts.

“Why is there blood on the floor?” I decide to ignore him, instead voicing my own question.

He lifts a shoulder in an elegant shrug. “There’s a reason you aren’t supposed to be here.”

“What’s going on here, Jimin?”

“You’re full of questions today, aren’t you?” His lips curved up in a small smile. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before there’s trouble.”

“But you never let me come see you.” I whine. “I can’t believe I’ve never noticed your house before. It’s huge!”

His smile grows a bit as he pushes himself off the wall and strides toward me. “Maybe that’s because I didn’t want you to see it.”

I roll my eyes at him. “What is that supposed to mean? It’s not like you can hide an entire mansion from view. That’s not possible.”

“Anything’s possible if you believe hard enough.”

A large gust of wind suddenly blows the front doors open, forcing our attentions. Jimin’s face grows pale and he nervously wets his plush lips. His hand reaches out and grasps onto mine.

“We need to leave.” He says, panic lacing his voice. “Now.”

I don’t know why he suddenly seems so afraid, but I follow him without question as he turns and runs through the door on the opposite side of the room. Jimin quickly maneuvers us through the kitchen and out the back door to the gardens. He glances back once before dashing for the gate.

We’re nearly there when a force crashes into me, causing me to fall to my knees. I gasp at the sudden impact and Jimin is quick to help me back up to my feet. He looks around for whatever it was that hit me, and eventually his eyes land on something I can’t see. I’d always known Jimin was special. He could see and hear things I couldn’t. His touch alone is enough to ease any pain I have.

I realize it’s happening again now. He seeing something I can’t. There’s something, or someone here with us. Before I can blink, he’s grabbed my hand once again and is pulling me along behind him. We’re racing along the edge of the garden wall. Occasionally, Jimin will abruptly change direction, as if avoiding something. I do my best to keep up with him.

Before I realize what’s happening, we’re back inside the mansion. Jimin looks as confused as I am as to how we got there. We’re back where we started. Inside the dining room. We rush around the table, back to the door but again, we’re brought back to where we started. My heart stops as I realize - we aren’t going anywhere.

I clutch onto Jimin’s arm and cower behind him as the truth settles over me. I know what’s here. I’ve faced the demon before. The last time, he nearly killed me. If Jimin hadn’t shown up when he did, I wouldn’t be standing here now.

Jimin is tense, yet he does his best to appear calm. “What do you want, Mortem?”

The demon slowly shimmers into view. The grin on his face is dangerous. Just as I remembered, his eyes are as black as the death that his name speaks of. “Jimin, who’s your guest?”

“She’s just leaving.” Jimin responds stiffly.

Mortem clicks his tongue. “Now, now. Don’t be rude. Allow me to greet the guest in my own home.”

His home? I look to Jimin, confused. I thought he lived here.

“Move out of the way, Mortem.”

The demon shakes his head, grinning. “You know the rules, Jimin. Any mortal that wanders into my home is mine to do with as I please.”

Jimin shakes his head, his voice wavering slightly as he pleads, “No, Mortem. Please. She wasn’t meant to come here. It wasn’t even supposed to be visible to her.”

Mortem chuckles. “It is my house. It knows when its master is hungry. Now be a good little angel and hand over the girl.”

Jimin’s jaw clenches and he holds his head higher. “No.”

The demon scoffs. “There’s a reason they banished you. You refuse to follow orders.” Mortem is quickly growing angry. “You may not be tied to this building, but you are tied to me. You do as I say. I will not tolerate any more disobedience from you.”

Jimin pushes me back as Mortem steps toward us.

“Give me the girl.” Mortem orders.

Jimin simply shakes his head. He turns to me once, smiles lightly, then returns to facing the demon. “Her soul is pure. I will not allow you to take it. Feed on me instead.”

The demon stares at the angel for a moment before bursting into a fit of laughter. “How very noble of you. Perhaps they were wrong too banish you after all. Very well then.”

I bite back a scream as the demon’s eyes turn from black to an angry red.

“I haven’t had the pleasure of devouring an angel’s soul for many centuries. I am going to enjoy this.”

Several emotions cross Jimin’s face in that moment. Yet never once do I see regret. He doesn’t regret offering his life for mine. I don’t know whether to cry or scream in anger, because it’s in that moment that I realize - Jimin is my angel. He is my guardian angel and he’s doing what he’s meant to do. Protect me.

Mortem gives me a small nod. “It is time for you to leave.”

Jimin looks to the sky once before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. He won’t look at me. I’m not sure I would be able to keep my composure if he had. Instead, I drop my head to stare at my feet. I don’t do anything to stop this. I don’t try to save him. I allow him to sacrifice his life for mine.

A single tear escapes my eye and runs down my cheeks. When I look up, I’m alone. There is no demon. My angel is gone. I’m left alone in the empty dining room. The memories from that night flood my mind and I wish. I wish I would have done something. Anything to save him.

I stand and there’s a gentle breeze that prods my back, urging me forward. Telling me it’s time to leave.

I smile. Maybe, just maybe, the other angels took pity on him. Perhaps he’s still out there, watching me. Protecting me.

The breeze prods my back again and I comply, quickly leaving house.

Once I’m through the gate, stepping off the property, I turn back around. The field stretches out before me, empty and bare. I was so sure there’d been something there just a moment ago, but I suppose my eyes have been playing tricks on me again.

Turning back to head for home once again, I feel a slight breeze caress my cheek and for once, I don’t feel so lonely as I walk the bare streets back to my house.

[mysterykidscasefiles]

Mystery Kids and the Case of the Whispering Rock

Summary: Norman, Neil, Coraline, Wybie, Raz and Lili arrive at Grunkle Stan’s Summer Camp with the hope of having a summer of fun, or in the case of the two Psychonauts, with the intent of investigating a psychic disturbance. When they meet two twins that seem to be experts on the secrets of Gravity Falls, they find themselves reluctantly teaming up. But how much can they actually trust each other? There are secrets in this town, but more surprising are the secrets being kept from each other.

Table of Contents

Chapter 20: The Footprint

“Neil, are you okay?” Norman asked as he leaned over and helped Neil back on his feet. Neil had tripped and fallen in the chaos of trying to chase after Lili and Norman had stopped to help him. The rest of the kids had rushed ahead, not noticing that the two of them were left behind.

“Umm… Norman?” Neil asked hesitantly.

“Come on Neil, we have to hurry.” He tugged on the sleeve of his Neil’s shirt, but his friend wasn’t moving.

“Norman…” Neil said again, more urgently this time.

“What is it?” Norman asked while turning around to face his friend.

“Bigfoot isn’t real, right?” Neil was looking down at the ground.

Norman’s eyes followed Neil’s gaze. He felt his mouth fall open as he stared at the imprint on the ground. It looked like it had come from a bare human foot, but it had to be at least three times the size of a regular grown man’s foot. The imprint was pressed deep into the soft soil and there was no mistaking it for what it was.

“Maybe it's someone’s idea of a joke?” Norman supplied weakly.

“All the way out here?” Neil asked.

Norman shrugged. “I… I don’t know.” Norman took out his phone and snapped a picture of the imprint. “Come on,” Norman said looking up at his friend. “We’re going to get lost if we can’t catch up with everyone else.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m already lost.”

Norman and Neil didn’t have to travel far before they heard familiar voices.

“There you guys are!” Dipper said in relief as Norman and Neil reached the clearing. “I was worried you guys got lost. It’s not a good idea to get separated in this forest!”

Norman blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected Dipper to be so worried about them. The way Dipper said ‘this forest’ made it sound like other forests were fine to wander around in, but there was something sinister about this forest in particular.

“S-sory,” Norman apologized. “What’s goin- Oh. Wow.”

“Yeah, that seems to be the general consensus, cuz,” Coraline agreed.

Norman couldn’t take his eyes off the giant oak tree and the cabin nestled on its largest branch. He didn’t think those types of trees could grow that big.

“So Wybie, any idea on how to get up there?” Coraline asked. “It looks like there’s a rope ladder handing over that branch. If we can free it, then the ladder might reach all the way down here."

Coraline was right. Norman could see a rope ladder attached to the large branch the cabin was built on top of. However, instead of the rope ladder extending to the ground, it had been thrown up and around a much smaller branch higher up.

“I’m not even sure we should go up there,” Dipper reasoned. “Someone could still be living in there and they might not be friendly.”

“Are you kidding?” Coraline asked, turning to Dipper in disbelief. “There is a mysterious cabin in the woods up in a tree that looks like it came out of a fairytale. Not only that, but some sort of crazy magic spell drew Lili here, and you just want to ignore it? Yes, this is the part in the movie where everyone gets cursed, but come on, can you really walk away without seeing what’s inside?” Coraline asked, gesturing up to the tree.

Dipper bit his lip worriedly, but with the way he glanced up at the tree, his expression more akin to a mix between bafflement and curiosity instead of fear, Norman knew his cousin had won. Dipper wanted to know what was in the cabin just as much as the rest of them.

"If I had my tools I could make a piton and a belay device," Wybie suggested when Dipper didn’t say anything more. "Whoever is best at climbing can hammer the piton into the tree and if they fall the rope would catch them-”

Lili whirled around, her eyes blazing.

"You are not hurting that tree," she growled.

Wybie took a weary step back from the girl. "O-okay, s-sorry! So, uhh... then what do we do?"

"Raz, where are you going?" Neil asked.

Everyone looked up to see Raz nearing the tree.

"We just have to get that rope ladder down, right?" Raz asked while placing his fingers in between the cracks in the bark.

"Sure, but no one can climb that thing on their own," Dipper said skeptically. "And even if you could get part way up, you'll fall before you reach the top."

Raz chucked as he hoisted himself up by his fingers, his feet supporting him against the trunk of the tree. Raz didn't hesitate as he continued to use nothing but his gloved fingers to climb up the groves in the bark.

"Don't worry,” Raz said as he turned his head to look down at them, flashing them cocky smile. “I don't fall."

Norman’s mouth fell open as Raz continued to climb up, not even hesitating for a second on where to place his hands.

"Wow!" Mabel gasped. "He’s super fast!"

Lili rolled her eyes. "Show off," she scoffed, but Norman didn't miss the smile Lili was attempting to conceal.

Raz scaled the tree to the first, and largest, branch effortlessly. There were professional athletes couldn't pull off a feat like that, and yet, Raz did it so easily.

"Okay, I'm up!” Raz announced. “Wow, you guys should see this thing up close.” He was staring at the wooden cabin and edged closer out of curiosity.

"Don't go in alone!" Dipper wrung his hands nervously.

"Yeah! Send down the ladder!" Coraline agreed.

Raz moved to examine the ladder. The end was tied around the large branch Raz was standing on, but the rest of the ladder was hung over another, smaller branch above Raz's head.

Raz tugged at the ladder to pull it down, but it didn't move. Raz tugged harder, and the branch above him shook, but the latter still didn't dislodge.

"It's stuck!" Raz shouted down to them. "Hold on, I'm going to untangle it."

Raz returned to the trunk and began to climb up the tree until he was standing on the branch the ladder was hanging over. It was a thin branch, no thicker than the width of Raz’ shoe. Raz had a firm grip on the trunk of the tree, but he was slowly moving away from the trunk as he took another step out onto the branch.

"Whoa! Be careful!" Neil called after him in concern.

"Raz!" Dipper shouted. "What are you doing?"

Norman didn’t understand what the boy was planning. The end of the rope ladder was still quite a few feet out of his reach. He would have to completely let go of the trunk of the tree to-

To Norman’s utter horror, Raz let go of the trunk, spread his arms spread out wide to keep his balance, and started walking further out on the thin branch as if it were a balance beam.

Norman inhaled sharply and he heard Coraline do the same.

"Are you crazy?" Wybie yelled up at him as Raz continued to walk confidently along the branch.

"Lili, tell him to stop!" Coraline yelled, her wide eyes glancing fearfully at Lili as if the girl could do something about the situation.

"Why?" Lili asked with a shrug. "If he falls it's his own fault, but like he said, he's not going to fall."

"Look!" Mabel shouted. "He's almost there! He's really good!"

Raz bent his knees and sat down on the branch as if it were a comfortable bench and not a sudden drop to potential death. He freed the ladder from around the branch and threw it down. It hung from the tree, swinging back and forth only two feet above the forest floor.   

Raz effortlessly used both his hands to prop himself up on the branch, swung his legs back on top of the branch, and then stood up again all in one swift move. Norman assumed the was going to head back to the trunk of the tree and climb down the way he came up, but instead, Raz jumped backward off of the thin tree branch.

Norman heard himself gasp for a second time; the sudden image of meeting Raz’s ghost completely paralyzed him in fear.

Instead of falling to his death, Raz gracefully flipped once in the air, and then landed squarely on the giant tree branch that the cabin was resting on.

There was a stunned silence before Mabel and Neil broke out into loud clapping and cheers. Raz bowed with a flourish and Coraline raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, as impressive as that was... that was completely unnecessary," Coraline said, her amused voice slightly breathless as if she had been holding it.

"How did you do that?" Mabel asked. "Are you a gymnast?"

"Something like that," Raz answered from where he stood above them. "My dad taught me and it kinda runs in my family."

Coraline approached the rope ladder and gave it an expectant tug. “It seems sturdy enough.” She raised her voice a little louder. “How does it look from your end, Raz?”

Raz was examining where the rope ladder was wrapped around the large branch. “It looks like it will hold, but come up one at a time, just in case.”

Coraline went first as everyone climbed the ladder one by one. The rope ladder was surprisingly strong, but the way it swung back and forth without any support made Norman feel dizzy.

Once they were all on the main branch, the kids gathered on the front porch of the cabin. The railing on the front porch made Norman feel a bit safer. When he looked down over the edge, it was hard to comprehend how large this tree was that an entire cabin could easily sit on just one branch. The branch forked into two branches, each branch providing mote support for the cabin to rest on. The cabin also had additional wooden supports underneath to even out the weight.  

Norman worriedly glance at Neil, who looked paler than usual and was gripping the railing with white-knuckled hands.

"Are you okay?" Norman asked.

"I just... don't like heights," Neil admitted while stepping nervously away from the edge. "I'll be okay if I don't look down."

"You didn't have to come up here," Norman said worriedly.

Neil shook his head and he gave Norman a queasy, but a genuine smile. "Are you kidding? I love tree houses! I've always wanted one of my own."

"Why do you want a tree house if you don't like heights?" Dipper asked.

"Just because I'm a bit scared doesn't mean I don't think they’re awesome," Neil explained cheerfully.

"Well, how’s your fear of old potentially cursed cabins?" Coraline asked him as she looked up at the cabin looming in front of them. "Because we're going in."

See, I knew these next few chapters would come out quicker! I hope you enjoyed this one!

Table of Contents   <Previous   Next>

[equalstrashflavoredtrash]

Ivar x Sibley. Modern AU. Stepping out of a party for some air, Sibley shares a cigarette with a handsome stranger. He sits so close his thigh is pressed against hers and she can smell his cologne through the smoke.

warnings: nothing major, just flirting. alcohol and cigarette mentions.

word count: 1,534

Sibley was starting to regret her choices. Shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other, she took in the view of the party around her. She clutched her half empty solo cup as she watched everyone else enjoy themselves while she stood in the corner.

She had tagged along with a sort-of-friend. So excited by the invitation alone that she didn’t even care the girl was someone she barely knew. With a huff she couldn’t help but chastise herself now. It should’ve been obvious from a mile away that once she arrived she would be stranded alone, lost with no clue what to do.

The beer in her cup tasted warm and flat, but she didn’t seem to mind as long as she had something to busy herself with. Scanning the room again, Sibley noticed the french door leading to the porch which seemed empty. Trying to escape the crowd, she made a beeline for the exit, sighing as she stepped into the chilly night air.

The space was mostly empty, obviously the patio furniture had been packed away once summer was over, but there was still a small wooden bench available. Unfortunately for her, there was already an occupant, a boy with dark hair puffing on a cigarette and staring off into the distance. She tried to move as quietly as possible while taking a seat.

Sibley couldn’t help but chastise herself as she searched her pockets for that one loosey she had. She'd pulled all the stops trying to persuade her foster parents to let her attend the party. Lying that she was good friends with the girl who and invited her and insisting it was more of a slumber party than a house party.

Floki, her foster-dad, had been very apprehensive, but his wife Helga took her side, saying it would be good for Sibley to go out and socialize since she was new at school. “Anyway,” Helga added with a shrug. “It’s mostly likely some of Ragnar’s sons will be there, I’m sure they’ll look out for her.”

Now it seemed all that effort was for naught as she wished she had stayed home in her bed.

Sibley found the lone cig, placing it between her lips before moving to grab her lighter. Fuck. Of course she didn’t have one on her. She exhaled, blowing air through her nose as she surrendered, turning to the boy beside her.

“You got a light?” she asked, trying to keep her tone even, attempting to not sound as disgruntled as she felt.

The stranger rolled his eyes but still reached to pluck the cigarette from her grasp. He placed it between his lips, using his own—which was half smoked—to ignite the end. Taking two light puffs he made certain it was burning evenly when he passed it back to Sibley.

“Thanks,” she murmured, giving a slight jerk of her head while turning her eyes away as he merely grunted in response.

She took long, slow drags, trying to make the one cigarette she had last as long as it could. The night was pitch black, overcast with clouds that obscured any illumination from the stars or moon. Beyond the ten foot radius of the porch lamp, she could see nothing. Due to this she kept finding her attention being drawn back to the boy next to her.

He seemed vaguely familiar. He looked about her age, so she guessed they were in the same year at school. ‘We’ve probably crossed paths in the hallway between classes,’ she told herself, trying to insist her fascination with him was purely born out of boredom and curiosity. Not because she was attracted to him.

Definitely not because of how he looked as he sat, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees while lips pursed as he pulled from his cigarette, the cotton of his t-shirt pulled taught over his back showing the pronounced difference in his muscles. It also had nothing to do with the way his cologne smelt as she caught a whiff with the down breeze. There was definitely nothing about the way the smell of sandalwood mixed with the smoke that she found alluring.

Sibley was nearly burning the filter when a gaggle of giggling girls burst out the door. She immediately recognized one of them as the classmate that had invited her. Their expressions lit up as they noticed who was already outside.

The girls gushed as they squeezed onto the bench, forcing Sibley to make room by sliding over until she was right up against the boy.

“Soooo,” the one in the center spoke first leaning forward as she either playfully drew out the syllables, or drunkenly slurred her speech—Sibley wasn’t quite sure which. “What have you and Ivar been doing out here on the porch alone in the dark, hmm?”

“What?” Completely taken aback at being put on the spot like this, Sibley glanced behind her at the boy, but he showed no change in expression or response to the intrusion. “N-nothing I’ve just been smoking.” she dropped the butt, stamping out the embers with her boot to emphasis her point.

“Boo-oo, that’s no fun,” the third said as she brought her own cig to her mouth. Halfway through taking a drag her eyes snapped open wide. All three of them squealed as they registered the bass line of the song beginning to play in the living room. Together they began to exclaim their affection for the track—which Sibley had never heard—and rose from their seats to hurry back inside. Amidst the shuffle, one of the girls handed her barely smoked cigarette off to Sibley without a second thought.

Leaning back she sighed, happy to have a continued excuse to stay away from the crowd indoors. That is until she took a puff. Once the smoke hit her throat she started coughing, discarding the cig in an nearby ashtray as she mumbled to herself, “Fuck, I hate menthols.”

“You could’ve asked me for one.” Sibley was caught by surprise as the boy next to her spoke. Only now, as she looked to him straight on, did she realize just how close they were sitting on the bench, their outer thighs press against each other’s.

“Excuse me?” She questioned, gazing at him as he gave her another incredulous look, drawing two more cigarettes from a polished silver case. He held both with his lips as he flicked a matching zippo lighter. He took the same small puffs as before—insuring the ends burned evenly—then grabbed each with either hand, passing one to her. After a moment of caution she accepted, noticing it was hand rolled as she brought it to her lips.

After she received the cigarette, his palm dropped to her thigh. “I’ve noticed you staring at me,” he stated, lifting his own cig with two fingers and letting the exhaled smoke snake over his top lip into his nostrils. Sibley was frozen as he began to draw small circles along the denim that covered her inner thigh, his warm touch slowly inching its way  nearer to her apex.

“I-I, uh, I’m j-just here to smok—,” Sibley stammered, trying to give a cohesive answer when she was interrupted by the door swinging open again. She gave a silent prayer to God as the new comer began to speak, obviously addressing the boy, who had instantly drawn his hand back.

“Ivar, we’ve been looking for you,” he began stepping forward. “Ubbe and I are heading out,” he trailed off as his eyes came to rest on the fact that his baby brother was sitting very close to a girl. His expression changed almost instantly as he held out a hand this girl, “Hello, I’m Hvitserk, Ivar’s big brother.”

She nodded slightly, giving a weak shake and replying, “I’m Sibley.”

“Wait, no,” Hvitserk responded in a jovial tone that was obviously influenced by alcohol. “You’re not Floki’s Sibley are you?”

“Yeah, actually.” She gave a sort-of shake of her head as she avoid eye contact, flicking the ash from her cigarette. “I’ve been living with them for about two months now.”

“That’s wonderful!” He exclaimed, holding his hands up. “Ivar you hadn’t told us you were friends with her! This is terrific, you should come over tomorrow and meet everyone else—”

Ivar cleared his throat, derailing Hvitserk’s train of thought as he clarified, “We’re not friends, we’ve only met just now.”

Hvitserk was obviously too far gone to let his younger sibling’s bitterness get to him as he carried on. “Well still, Sibley, you Floki and Helga should all come over for lunch tomorrow. We’ll get Ubbe to grill hamburgers. But anyway, Ivar we’re heading out, you coming with?”

Sibley gave a vague enough gesture for Hvitserk to take as confirmation while the boy beside her gathered his crutches and rose from his seat. Keeping her face down, towards her feet, she watched Ivar out of the corner of her eye again while he followed his brother. Reaching the door he stopped, pivoting to face her. She couldn’t help but look up to where he stood.

“I guess I’ll see you around.” And with that he maneuvered his way over the threshold, slamming the door behind hard enough for the panes of glass to rattle.

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED i actually had a looot of fun writing this!! please leave a comment and tell me what you thought!

@beautifulramblingbrains @ariwolf14 @titty-teetee @peaky-yamyam @whenimaunicorn @sweetvengeancee​ @ivarinleatherpants​ @hvitserksgirl​

[theshopislocal]

corinth rains

New and improved Heaven may well be the Happiest Place (not) on Earth. But Dean, it turns out, is still Dean.

(also on AO3)

chapter ten

Hand fisted, raised, poised before the solid oak door - but Dean doesn’t knock. He should’ve called before he came. 

It’s a nice porch. The roof extends out over it, supported by weathered wood pillars, and there’s a ceiling fan turning lazily overhead. A wide bench sits a couple feet away, with horizontal wood slats and wrought iron legs, and there’s a scrap wood coffee table with a big peach-colored candle in the middle. 

Dean should have called before he came. 

He peers through the little door-side window, but the lights are off inside. Maybe no one’s home. Maybe they’re busy. Dean grimaces - maybe they’re getting busy—

The door swings inward, hinges creaking out a plea for some WD-40, and there’s Bobby, glaring at him squinty-eyed from underneath his ball cap. 

“Dean?” Bobby grunts, eying Dean’s suspended fist. 

Dean’s arm drops, flopping uselessly at his side, and his bicep aches. “Heya, Bobby,” he grunts out, forcing a smirk onto his mouth. 

Bobby squints harder. “Hey your damn self,” he snarks. “You look like pickled shit, boy.” Dean huffs a brittle laugh at that. Bobby stares at him for another moment, considering, before stepping to the side. “Gonna stand there twiddlin’ yer thumbs all day?”

Dean gives a crooked smile and steps over the threshold, scraping his feet against the bristly welcome mat. 

Bobby ushers him through the foyer - dimly lit by the tinted skylight above - and into the dining room. He circles the round mahogany table with its calla lily centerpiece, and steps into a wide archway, gesturing Dean over.

Dean follows him through, boots clicking against the stone tile flooring. It’s a rustic sort of kitchen, country style, with butcher block countertops and a farmhouse sink done in etched porcelain. There’s a pretty pink apron draped over a cabinet door, and matching handtowels on the copper oven handle. 

Dean glances over it all with a tiny smile on his face, while Bobby rifles through a white shaker cabinet. He comes up with two scuffed tumblers and a dusty unlabeled bottle, then juts his chin toward the sliding glass door. 

Dean strides over and pulls it open, standing aside as Bobby steps out onto the raised wooden platform. There’s a tall square table flanked by barstools to his left, and a rusted mesh fire pit on his right, but Dean barely notices either of them. 

Everything is wet. 

The awning over the table is dripping, the floorboards damp and shiny, and little rivulets run down the metal handrails at the edge of the platform where it overlooks the lake. 

Dean shakes his head and barks a bemused laugh. “You power-washin’ your deck, or was there a tidal wave?”

Bobby peers over at him, frowning, then he peeks his head out from under the awning, casting his gaze inexplicably skyward. Dean follows his eyes to the clear blue sky and winces at the overbright sun. He looks away, spots dancing on his retina, and finds Bobby staring at him, eyes sharp and speculative. 

Dean feels his brow drop low, shoulders going stiff. “What,” he grumbles. 

Bobby purses his lips and grunts out a cryptic ‘hmph,’ then turns his back to Dean, setting his spoils on the table. 

“Thirsty?” Bobby asks, though he’s already pouring two glasses. 

Dean frowns at the evasion, but shrugs it off, nodding at Bobby’s back. He steps up to one of the barstools at the little table and wipes the water off the seat with the side of his hand. “Always,” he snorts.

Dean swings his leg over the stool, resting his elbows on the tabletop as Bobby settles in opposite him. “Karen home?” he asks as Bobby slides him his glass. 

Bobby glances up at him, swirling his tumbler as if it were Lagavulin and not gasoline-scented rotgut. “Nah,” he grumbles. “She and her sister went to the City.” He brings the glass to his nose and takes a short sniff. “Sure they’re gettin’ into all sortsa trouble.”

Dean nods and stares down at the amber liquid in his glass. He’s heard about the City - seen signs for it on the highway - though he’s never been. He’d learned young that cities are just for passing through - on the way to the next clue, the next job, the next apocalypse. The most he’d ever found in a city was a nameless girl to pass the night with, if he was lucky, or a wanted poster with his face on it, if he wasn’t. 

Dean prefers the open road. 

He brings the glass to his mouth and takes a short sip. It stings like battery acid - Bobby’s ‘legendary’ sour mash always does - but it’s a familiar burn, and Dean savors it. He coughs subtly into his shoulder, grunting, “Whatcha been up to?”

It’s an odd question - neither Dean nor Bobby go in much for small talk - and Bobby clocks it quick. He raises an eyebrow, leveling Dean with A Look, but something in Dean’s face gives him pause. 

He settles back into his seat and shrugs, holding his glass over his belly. “Nothin’ much,” he mutters offhand. “Bit of research for the Arch - wards mostly.” He tilts his head toward the flatlands past the lake. “Rift opened up out in the marsh. Not much pass-through - coupla small fries itchin’ to get outta Purgatory. Bill and Jo’s crew sent ‘em packin’.”

Dean nods, though his stomach goes taut. He hadn’t caught sight of the rift, but he’d seen the Harvelles’ old pick-up trudging across the bog, maybe a mile out from his bunker. He’s got enough friends in the Arch to know that rifts aren’t uncommon, that pass-through is usually minimal, that the Arch can handle it. He also knows they could always use another set of hands, more boots on the ground, as many seasoned, able-bodied hunters as they can get. 

These days, Dean feels more disembodied than able-bodied - more salty and bitter than seasoned. 

Dean swallows dryly and nods. “S’good.”

Silence reigns for a short moment, during which Dean stares down into his half-empty glass and pretends not to feel Bobby’s eyes on him. 

A beat passes before Bobby blows out a sigh and smacks his tumbler onto the tabletop with an audible thunk. “Out with it.”

Dean’s jaw clenches tight. “Wh—”

Bobby hunches forward and rolls his eyes. “You ain’t here for a gab and a mint julep.”

Dean stares blankly at him for a moment before dropping his eyes to his hands, turning his glass in a slow circle. 

Bobby’s right, of course. Dean isn’t here to shoot the shit - if there’s even any shit to be shot. Trouble is, he’s not sure why he’s here. 

These days, that’s how he spends most of his time - meaningless construct that it is: wondering why he’s here. When Billie had sworn to cast him and Sammy into the Empty, Dean had felt a pit of dread open up on his chest - not for himself, but for his brother. Sam deserved a beautiful eternity spent with Eileen - just as Bobby deserved to be with Karen, Ellen deserved Bill, and Kevin deserved his Resolute desk. 

Dean’s not sure what he deserves, but eternal sleep hadn’t sounded so bad. Still doesn’t. 

Bobby shifts forward in his seat, and Dean looks up at him, noting the heavy brow under the shadow of his ball cap. 

“Speak your piece, boy,” Bobby says, and his tone is mild - kind in that way he pretends not to be. 

“I, uh,” Dean starts and swallows hard. “I went past the mountain. To the—” he runs his tongue over his lip as Bobby squints at him, “—the forest in the field.”

Bobby’s eyes shift to the side before his brows pop up. “Cas’ place,” he surmises. 

Dean’s eyes flutter closed for half a second. Of course, Bobby knows. “Yeah,” he grunts. 

Bobby’s lips purse, and he leans back into his chair. “You talk to ‘im?”

Dean huffs out a bitter laugh. “Somethin’ like that, yeah.”

Bobby’s eyes go sharp and slitted, roving over Dean’s face like he’s looking for something. Whatever it is, he finds it, and he rolls his eyes when he does. 

“Judgin’ by the mopey face, I’m guessin’ that didn’t go so good,” he grumbles. 

Dean’s jaw goes taut, mouth pulling into a rictus of a smile. He breathes out another brittle laugh and shakes his head. “...Nope.”

Bobby stares at him for a short moment, blue eyes squinted against the sunlight. Then he blows out a gusty sigh and reaches for his drink. “You’re a damn fool,” he grunts, and knocks back the last finger. 

Dean blinks several times, brow sagging in a frown. He’s not sure what he was expecting, but that certainly wasn’t it. 

He shakes his head, leaning forward against the table. “What?”

Bobby sets his glass down and folds his arms across his chest, eyes rolling. “You’d think that rusty nail mighta knocked some sense into your head—”

Dean groans. Again with the rusty nail. “It was rebar—”

“But nooo,” Bobby scoffs, ignoring the interruption. “Still every bit the damn idjit you always been.”

Dean feels his frown smooth into blank confusion.

Compared to John, Bobby may well be Father of the Year - but he’s no pushover, and he certainly doesn’t pull his punches. Dean’s admired the old man’s brutal brand of honesty for some eighty years now, and he’s always taken it to heart: if Bobby says he’s being an idiot, then it’s very likely that Dean is being an idiot. 

Only, in this instance, Dean’s not exactly sure how.

His bafflement must show on his face, because Bobby’s brow straightens, tone going softer. 

“You’re a good kid,” he says, and the sincerity in his voice has Dean’s shoulders going tense, “but...” He trails off, jaw working like he’s chewing his tongue. After a moment he continues. “There’s a reason you ain’t seen hide nor feather of your angel in half a damn century.”

Dean’s shoulders tense further, crowding up around his ears, and he shakes his head. “He’s not my—”

“And it’s the same reason,” Bobby says, pitching his voice above Dean’s, “you never quit huntin’.” Dean frowns at that, but doesn’t interrupt. “Same reason you—” Bobby’s jaw goes taut, tone hardening, “you died in a barn instead of callin’ a damn ambulance.”

Dean squeezes his eyes closed. Definitely no punches pulled. “Bobby—”

“And it’s the same reason,” Bobby grunts sharply, pointing a wrinkled finger towards the sky, “that sun shines so damn bright.”

Dean’s jaw clicks shut. The sun... what?

Dean knows perfectly well why it’s always sunny: it’s Heaven. The whole place is designed to keep people happy; everything - from the bucolic landscape, to the picket-fenced houses, to the cloudless blue sky - all of it exists to preserve the joy, the peace, the contentment of the souls here. 

Maybe all that isn’t really Dean’s bag, but he’d hardly endanger it for a flash of lightning and a few drops of rain. Dean’s happiness has always been the incidental sort, anyway - happenstance and fleeting, ephemeral like morning fog. 

Dean peers over at Bobby and shakes his head, brow furrowed. “I don’t—”

Bobby heaves a sigh, more resigned than frustrated now. “‘Course ya don’t,” he grumbles and reaches for the dusty bottle. “Fish doesn’t know it’s in the water.”

Dean frowns harder, clarity drifting further and further away. Hardly matters, he thinks; fish out of water is dead, anyway.

Bobby leaves his own glass empty, but pours another two fingers for Dean. Dean watches the spirit slosh against the scratched glass, coming nearly to the lip, but never spilling over. He brings it to his mouth to sip, but Bobby raps against the tabletop with his knuckles. 

“Shoot it,” Bobby grunts. “Else it ain’t medicinal.”

Dean nods and knocks the tumbler back, the whisky burning down his throat to roil in his belly. This, at least, he understands.

chapter nine | chapter eleven

table of contents

[deactivated4179291]

Star Crossed - Part 1 (H.S AU)

Author’s Note: Hi! This is just an introduction to remind the reader that this is an AU story, so if something seems impossible in our world today (or like a year ago), that is why. This story is set in present time, and our planet is exactly the same, except where the characters live (in the U.S) there are laws that have changed the way they live. This story is based on a set of laws in which couples are paired based on their zodiac signs - and incompatible pairs are ruled out by law.  Also, just one final reminder, none of the things mentioned about any of these characters are necessarily true. This story is obviously 100% fiction, AND this chapter is mostly an introduction and explanation of the world they live in - though this is only in the U.S - all the other countries in the world do not live by these rules in the story. Thank you so much for reading. 

                                                    --------------

Maddie’s POV

    The day that I was born had always determined my entire future. Our world has never made sense to me. You're probably wondering how I can say that, right? The answers pretty simple – our lives are decided for us. A person can only fall into one category – and it is all decided based on the day you enter this world. As a Taurus – my birthday is May 20th - I fell into the population of Earth signs. Straight out of high school graduation, at the age of 18, every young man and woman will receive in the mail, a name that will change their lives forever.

   This name is meant to be their “perfect match.” You see, about 100 years ago, the U.S decided it was time to rid our nation of divorce. In order to do so, they needed a system that would set together two people who were just about perfect for one another. They call it "The Crossing." 

   Now, you’re probably wondering how these perfect couples are paired. There are two different aspects of The Crossing. The first is the “Astrological System.” This system ensures that the two people that are put together are compatible Zodiac signs, and fall under the same category of said signs. It is absolutely illegal for two persons of non-compatible signs to be together in any format that is not considered platonic. This is enforced by a punishment which is not discussed outside the government because no one seems to know exactly what happens. All that is known is that if caught, one of an unmatched pair is taken by officers, and they don’t ever return.

   The second aspect of matching is greatly encouraged, but not required. Any person eligible to be matched has the opportunity to complete a questionnaire type assessment, which is put into a database, and looks for the most similar answers.

   It just does not make any sense to me, though. I am a Taurus, but both my Mother and my little sister, Robin are of the Leo sign, and I love them more than anything. Their both amazing and our signs have never been "discordant" - as the government calls it - as far as I'm concerned.

    Then there's my stepdad. Chuck (pictured below). The irony is that he's a Capricorn - one of my signs "most compatible" other signs, yet I hate that – pardon my language - bastard more than anyone else to walk this earth. The reason why? He's not the man my mother wants to believe he is. She's convinced herself that she loves him, and I can't blame her - he puts on quite the façade, acting like he couldn't hurt a fly. Acting like he loves my sister and me, and Hell, if I didn't know his true colors he could have had me fooled. But I am no fool. I know who he really is beneath the surface of his pale skin.

    The fact that my mother seems to think she's found love again, isn't the reason Chuck and I aren't “compatible.” I am not upset that he tried to replace my father - what kind of daughter would I be to deprive my mother of the happiness she deserved and needed. No, my problem lies within his character, which has proven itself within the countless bruises that adorn MY pale skin. I've received countless blows from him, all because I stepped in front of my little sister the first time he ever showed signs of violence, and because I 'defied' his dominance. I'd do it a million times again if I had to, and I have had to. I'm never going to let the world hurt my sister the way it did me.

   Chuck Blaine just is not, and never will be someone I am capable of trusting. In fact, it is BECAUSE of him that I lack the ability to place my trust in any man, cold hearted or otherwise. Maybe that's why within my stubborn heart I dreading this day so much.

   Since my father was no longer in the picture, my mom was placed back into the crossing system. Specifically, the crossing system for widows and widowers. The way it works is men get their choice at their second wife. As if the first crossing couldn't be bad enough, the second opportunity is even worse. He acts as if he thinks he and my mother are destined for one another, but I know what he was really after. Money.

   My family wasn't rich, but when my father died in his car crash, he left every bit of money he had AND his family inheritance to my mother to support our family. My heart aches as I think of my father. A drunk driver hit him, while he was making a turn, on his way home from work one night. The person driving the other car ran a red light.

   My father was one of the kindest people you could ever meet. The saddest part about losing him was that I remembered little of that night. I was only 9 years old, and it was obviously the hardest thing that I have ever faced in my life, so I guess I must have repressed the memories. So how does a family like mine, that’s been through hell and back end up with a freaking monster?

   Well, when your "partner" has passed away, you are given the opportunity to be paired with someone else, of your choosing from eligible "matches." Divorce is absolutely forbidden, once you're married, but if you don't want to marry your match, you can not be re-matched, regardless. Once you're matched that's it - you don't have to love one another romantically, but every year 5 of the new pairs are assigned to “Populace.” This means they have to have a baby. Though, if you DO love your partner and wish for a family you're allowed to create one on your own. Luckily, my mom wasn’t placed under that duty.

   So, here I am. Sitting on my front porch, swaying back and forth on the squeaky old auburn colored, wooden bench swing, drinking tea from Dad’s old cobalt blue mug, waiting to receive the name that’s going to change my life forever. Yep, that’s right, today is my “big day.” Today’s the day I receive my future in an ugly orange envelope. And it will all start with a simple name, printed onto a sheet of paper. I hear the creaking of the front door and look to my left to see my mom, smiling at me.

 “Today’s the day, huh?” She asks, making her way over to me. She gently sits next to me. I avert my eyes to the mug between both of my palms, watching the steam escape from inside.

  “Today’s the day,” I nod slowly. I crinkle my eyebrows, not knowing exactly how to feel about the situation. To be honest, it isn’t really possible to know how to feel about your crossing until you are holding the results in your hand - maybe not even then.  

    “Hey,” she nudges me gently with her shoulder. I look up into her beautiful blue eyes. Through everything, my mother somehow always managed to have some sort of positive aura about her. I always felt it most when I looked at her eyes. She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, something she always did when I was trapped in my thoughts before she continues. “I’m sure they’ll be great. You earth signs normally are, I mean, you are my whole world kid,” I let out a weak chuckle. My mom and her cheesy jokes, always trying to lighten the mood.

   “Well, you and Robin,” she says. I smile, nodding. She takes hold of one of my hands, lifting it from the mug, she kisses the Taurus symbol on my wrist, that was forced onto me straight our of graduation as a form of identification.

   She wraps both arms around me and pulls me in for a hug. I close my eyes breathing in her lavender scent. She must have been in her garden, I think to myself. I am going to miss those white roses outside my bedroom window. I open my eyes at the sound of the mail truck skidding to a halt on the street in front of our house. My heart practically stops in my chest, then and there, as I realize that it’s time. I stand up slowly, after placing my mug on the wood floor of the porch, underneath the swing. Tea, like my peace of mind, is going to have to wait.   

    “Madeleine Parker?!” The postman announces. It almost sounds as if he’s looking for the winner of some sort of life-altering raffle. 

   “Uh..here” I mumble, waving once to him. It almost feels like a teacher calling roll at school.

   “Congratulations,” he says with a warm smile, handing me my package.

    “Thank you” - I force a smile and grit my teeth behind it. I say thank you not because he’s so excited for my life to placed under someone else’s jurisdiction, but because it’s the polite thing to do when someone hands you something that belongs to you. No matter how unfortunate it is that it belongs to you.

   “Well?” my mom says. I send her a questioning look, starting to tremble on the inside. “giving me looks is not going to change the fact that the rest of your life is inside that envelope. Take your time, but open it, sweetheart,” she says. She walks up to me, kissing me on the head before turning on her heel, and walking back up the porch steps, and swinging the front door back open. I look back down at the envelope in my hands. I stare at it for a second, observing the earth symbol on the front – signifying that I and my new partner are obviously both earth signs - before slowly flipping it to the seal, and tearing it open slowly with my thumb. I take out the sheet of paper and read every bit of information as fast as I can. 

Partner

-Name: Niall James Horan

-Origin: Ireland – relocation year: 2016

Ireland?...that’s pretty cool I guess. He clearly moved here this year.

-Age: 23

..otherwise, he would have completed the Crossing like 4-5 years ago. Since he wasn’t 18 when he moved here, guess it was his choice.

-Birthday: September 13, 1993

-Sign: Virgo

Contact Information

-Phone Number: ***-***-****

Why are they giving me his phone number? What am I supposed to text this person? “Oh hey Niall, my names Maddie I am the person you’re stuck with till the day we die, wanna grab some coffee?” I scoff before my eyes scroll down further until they reach our “Assignment section.”

Assignment(s)

-Assigned Living: 14527 Rose Hill Drive

Rose Hill Drive?... that’s one of the wealthiest living spaces available to new pairs….oh god. Mom must have thrown some of the inheritance into my funds. Oh god, what if we..

-Assigned to Populace: No

Oh thank god. No offense, Horan but you’re still a complete and total stranger as of right now.

-Career(s)

      Male: Music

      Female: None

Music…interesting. Also, I need to get a job urgently... if we're going to be living in one of the expensive neighborhoods I am going to have to step up.

-Relocation date: 6/1/17

Three Days…I have three days to meet this stranger and move in with them.

Congratulations and best of luck to you Ms. Wilkinson, and Mr. Horan.

Congratulations? Really? How many people are going to say that stupid word to me today?! Is that the best you’ve got?... Whatever. Sighing, I reluctantly walk back up the creaky old porch steps and grab my mug from under the swing before making my way back through the front door, my papers folded under my arm. I walk past the front steps, towards the kitchen, immediately sensing my mother cooking bacon. I place my mug on the island counter, and plop myself down onto one of the barstools with a slight huff, before tossing my packet onto the island as well.

   “Well?” My mom says, peering over her shoulder, a curious look on her face. I pick up the package and read to her everything I read in the front yard. All the while, she cooks breakfast for my sister and I. Luckily, Chuck’s job requires him to get up early in the morning. She puts some bacon on a plate and hands it to me when I get up and add more milk to my tea.

   “He seems…” she pauses for a second, “..interesting.” I can’t help but laugh briefly.

   “You seem pretty calm for a woman who’s daughter just told her she’s about to move into a house with a boy nearly 5 years older than her.” I look at her amusedly.

   “In our world, age is clearly just a number, my dear.”

    I scoff, “Ya until you turn 18, then it’s not your world - it’.”s one place, and one person until the day you die.”

   “Maddie, I know you don’t like it sweetheart, but-“

    “It’s the world we live in, and we can’t change it - yes I know,” I sigh.

    “So have you gotten in contact with this..” she pauses, clearly forgetting his name. I quirk an eyebrow at her, smirking.

   “Niall?” I ask, earning a nod from her, the dopey amused grin never leaves my face as I continue, “and, no I haven’t reached out to him. I wouldn’t even know what to say if I did.”

   “Well, did you look him up on that..instasnap thing you’re always on?” Realizing she’s trying to say Instagram, I try really hard not to laugh at her, but ultimately fail.

   “You mean Instagram?” I snigger, plopping my last piece of bacon in my mouth, chewing it slowly before swallowing it, all while sending my mom an amused look.

   “Ya…That.” She says, embarrassed. She turns back to the stove, flicking the switch off, bringing the pan over to the sink.

   “No, I haven’t but, maybe I will later.” I sigh. Talking to a strange man? As mentioned, clearly not exactly something that appeals to me.

    “Alright, well it’s almost time for Robin’s dance lesson…I think she was looking for her shoes, maybe you could help her?”

   “I’m on it,” I quickly rise from the wooden stool, taking one last sip from my tea mug, and place it in her expecting hand. When she turns and starts scrubbing the dishes I quickly walk around the island, and give her a quick kiss on the cheek, placing my dish in the sink before exiting the kitchen and starting to climb the creaky old steps, making my way towards the second floor. I make my way towards Robin’s door.

   When I reach Robin’s white door, I lift my right arm, and gently brush over the pink flowers with my fingers. Every time they catch my eye - even as I walk to my own room - I remember painting them for her on her 7th birthday after she begged me to. Smiling to myself briefly, I knock on it gently before slowly opening it.

   “Robin?” When I step inside, my heart nearly breaks at the sight of my sister all dressed in her ballet outfit and sitting on her bed crying quietly. Her hands are in her lap, but she quickly raises one to wipe her tear from her eyes before dropping it once more, realizing that I am in her room. She never liked when I saw her cry - she probably learned that from me. I always hated the way people stared at me when I showed emotion. I could always sense them thinking I was the fragile girl who's dad died.

   “Robin? What’s wrong?” I ask, worried, rushing over and kneeling in front of my sister. I grab both her hands and look up at her, my thumb gently brushing over both of her small hands, that are damp from trying to fight her tears. The first thing I notice is her eyes. Her bright blue eyes that she got from our mom – full of sadness, her cheeks tinted red from crying. I swear, their eyes looked like the ocean. Hearing her sniffle practically breaks my heart into two severed pieces.

   “What’s wrong little bird?” I ask with a frown forming on my face. She smiles slightly at the nickname I gave her so many years ago. When she finally speaks, she gets choked up at her words.

   “Everyone always leaves me..” she mumbles, fresh tears forming in her eyes.

    “Robin..” I gasp slightly, taken aback by her words.She wraps her arms around me and cries into my neck, her sobs echoing through the small pink bedroom my mom and I decorated when I was just 10 years old after we found out Robin was a girl. When my dad was killed in the accident, my mom didn’t even know she was expecting. She found out three months later.

   “Don’t cry little bird,” I whisper.

   “But you’re gonna’ leave, to live with that Irish boy I heard you talking about…” Typical Robin, always sneaking about catching my conversations with mom. “and-and I’m not gonna see you anymore, a-and step-dad - h-he’s gonna-” 

   “Hey!” I quietly exclaim, gently grabbing her sides, pushing her back slightly so she’s looking me in the eyes. “I would never let anything bad happen to you, would I?” I quirk a brow at her. She looks down shaking her head, where her amber brown hair is pulled into a tight bun, with some fly away hairs near her face. I reach out and tuck them behind her right ear.

   “You can’t get rid of me that easily little bird,” I shake my head smiling. She pulls me in for another hug, her tear stained cheek brushing against my shoulder. Her sobbing quiets down eventually, as I rub her back soothingly.

   “I’ll-I’ll still be your best friend right?” She whispers, her voice laced with hope. Even at the age of 9, she was just as sensitive as I am.

   “Of course you will,” I say chuckling at her, “Now wipe those tears, we have pesky little ballet shoes to find,” I say, earning a giggle from her in the process cupping both of her cheeks in my hands and wiping the wiping the rest of her tears – something my mom once did on a night when I cried, missing my dad. My mom was the one who always enforced strength - crying was a weakness to her most of the time. Though I suffered whenever I'd mention my longing to see my father again, or to get to say goodbye to him, she'd shut me out. It was gut-wrenching but ultimately made my skin thicker, maybe even tougher.  It made that night she comforted me incredibly easy to remember, but the thought still sends a sad pang to my heart. I swallow the lump in my throat as Robin backs out of our hug, taking one of my hands, we start to look for her shoes.

   Once Robin and my mom had left I decided to take a long shower to try and ease the stress weighing on my mind. I stepped into the en suite bathroom connected to my bedroom. I flicked on the lights, before removing my sweats, and gray v-neck T-shirt, switching on the water to the shower and folding the clothes neatly. I placed them on top of the closed toilet seat, and draw back the old blue shower curtain, stepping into the bathtub, where the shower water circles the drain.

   I let my lungs consume the steam, breathing it in as I run my fingers gently through my messy dirty blonde hair, that’s been ruffled by my sleep. I got my hair color from none other than..you guessed it, my father. My mom loved to tell me I had his eyes too –that  I was gifted with his blue-green irises, though my eyes actually changed color every now and then. Some days I would look in the mirror and see my dad’s eyes staring back at me, and others my mom’s beautiful blue orbs would surprise me in the morning. There was even an occasion in which my eyes would look almost gray.

   Grabbing my shampoo, I squirt some out into my hand, then place it back on the white marble ledge of my bathtub. After scrubbing the suds of argon oil shampoo through my hair, which had practically grown past my breasts by now, I then do the same with my conditioner, before tying my hair into a bun. Something I have been doing since I learned you’re supposed to let the conditioner sit for a minute or two. Imagine how dumb I felt for not knowing that little fact. I then scrubbed my body clean of sleep as well, and wash my face before rinsing my conditioner, and then wrapping my gray towel around my body.

   I step out of the shower slowly and take in my surroundings for one of the last times that I’ll be able to. Or at least the last time I will be a resident in this house. I always enjoyed my bathroom because it was simple, but it had an almost secret beauty to it. Flicking the lights back off, I walk back into my bedroom, grabbing the clothes I previously folded and throwing them back on. It’s not like I’m going anywhere today. I try to shake away the thoughts of how much I will miss this place- my home, grabbing my iPhone from the nightstand, letting out a puff of air, I collapse on top of my bed.

   I think back to my conversation with Robin. Robin’s always been the kind of young girl that thinks there is good in everyone. That is probably the biggest difference between us. She truly has the purest, kindest little heart I have ever seen in all my days on this earth. It’s no surprise that someone as innocent as she would want to believe there’s good in this messed up world. I see so much of my father’s spirit inside her. What troubles me is how scared she is of those who have proven not to have a nice bone in their body- i.e Chuck. Chuck. Just the thought of that disgusting man’s name sends bile to my mouth, so much so that I almost gag.

   I pull up Instagram typing the name Niall Horan in the search bar, before hitting the search button. I click on the users that pop up until I think I have found the Niall Horan I am looking for – when the bio reads Mullingar Ireland, 23. I request to follow the account before tossing my phone back on my bed. Just when it hits my duvet, though, my screen lights up with a number I don’t recognize.

Messages (2)

- Found my Instagram, eh?

-Oh, btw this is Niall – Niall Horan. I hope you don’t mind – my letter gave me your number, I’ve been meaning to send a message your way all day.

 I chuckle, quite frankly surprised by his kindness. Something about it seems so..genuine. I start typing back quick response-

 Hi Niall, I’m Madeleine….But I am guessing you already knew that. You can just call me Maddie, though. And yes that was me that followed you on Instagram. Sorry I haven’t sent you a message..couldn’t really think of what to say, to be honest.

-That’s alright! I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to meet up at some point maybe tomorrow? We could grab some coffee or something if you want.

Sure, But you should know I am more of a tea kinda girl.

 -Tea it is then! I’ll text you tomorrow so we can work out a time.

Sounds good! Talk to you then.

   I shut off my iPhone, and toss it back down onto my bed before lying down on my back. I just lay there, staring at my ceiling. Well, Niall Horan, it looks like I’ll see you tomorrow. And..every day after that for the rest of my life I guess….

[lichacha]

The Woman with no Name

She followed him. There was still something she needed to discuss with him.

He was new in their team and he just led them to win. He scored the winning shot.

She wanted to congratulate him. She wanted to invite him for their celebration. He wasn't very good at what he's doing and still he made the winning shot.

But instead of celebrating with them he just vanished.

And she followed.

She followed that chubby, nerdy looking guy with long – ish curly hair that stood up in all kinds of directions, kind of like an afro.

She would've liked to shout his name to get his attention but her social anxiety stopped her from screaming his name in the middle of the crowded sidewalk.

So instead she followed him.

For a moment she thought she'd lost him but then she spotted his red oversized shirt that seemed too big even for his generally big body.

She followed him into the next street. And the next street. And the next.

She followed him out of the city center.

She followed him out of the city.

She noticed how the tone of the city changed into some eerie quietness.

And it was just him ahead of her and herself.

And then she noticed they were nearing the woods.

Every normal person would've either stopped and left or at least get curious as to where he was going.

She didn't though. She was just determined to invite him to their dinner.

She was mesmerized. It was as if a curse enveloped her whole presence.

She didn't even know how long they were walking for. She just followed him as if she was levitating.

She wasn't even aware of her steps anymore.

They neared a forest glade. And if she didn't know any better she could've sworn that this was the place where fairies live.

Dandelions lined the clearing having their seed floating through the air.

She could feel a gentle breeze caressing her face.

As they walked along she came to a stop when she saw an old building.

It resembled an old hospital. Or mental facility.

All by itself it looked run down and broken.

The kind of building you'd see in a horror video game. A closed and barricaded clinic of some sorts.

She could picture herself only armed with a notebook and a flashlight to try and escape the asylum with jumpscares lurking around every other corner.

But right now with the way the light hit the building it just looked serene and peaceful.

The light bricks once must've looked warm and welcoming.

On the side of the abandoned building she could see poison ivy climbing up the facade.

And the floating dandelion seeds just added to the fairytale look.

She asked herself what it looked like by night. Would it look the same but with the moonlight replacing the sun? Or would it look haunted and cold?

A shiver run down her spine.

But right now it was just an old building.

An old building that he was entering.

And she followed him.

When she stepped through the door she was shocked to find the building not abandoned. The polar opposite. The facility still seemed like it was running.

Must've been some kind of private clinic? Or maybe an old people's home?

Nobody in town knew about that building. It must've been a private institution.

She stepped in just in time so see him at the receptionist's desk and leaving down a corridor.

The lights inside were yellow and reflected on the light marble floor.

The walls were either tiled or stone. The ceilings were all in some kind of arc shape. They looked like catacombs. But not in a bad way. Not in a good way either. Just in a neutral way.

She followed him down the corridor and up a staircase.

The receptionist, a heavy middle aged woman with a reddish brown pompadour and a bun at the nape of her neck in an outdated nurse uniform, hurried after her and tried to make her stop.

But she payed her no mind.

She just followed him. And fast.

The nurse's short stumpy legs with feet clad in kitten heels stomped down the corridor and she yelled something along the lines of 'You can't just march in here' and 'I must ask you to please stop now'.

But still the kind woman was ignored.

He was gone somewhere.

She looked out for him and her steps slowed down.

She was standing on some kind of intersection with different pathways leading to different destinations.

She just kept walking looking into every new corridor.

On her way she passed a man cowering on some chairs lined outside of a room.

He was huge with no hair and a red shirt and grey-ish blue shorts and he had his arms slung around his knees. His expression was gloom and scared. He rocked himself back and forth.

The door wasn't closed.

Inside the room she could see a man with a clipboard dressed in a white coat talking to a woman. Her expression was understanding and every once in a while she would nod her head. Whether it was an indicator for him to keep talking or a sign of reluctant approval she didn't know.

On her right she could see three children playing. They were dressed in cream coloured shirts and brown shorts.

Two of them were on crutches.

When she looked at their legs she saw one of them with really thin crippled legs, another one with metal prostheses were his legs should be and the third one without the crutches with no legs at all.

The were hoisting themselves up an some metal bars. Whether it was a game or practice she didn't know.

She kept going. On her way she passed some more people. She passed children with disabilities.

Children with no arms or legs.

She passed people being pushed in wheelchairs that were so apathetic that she thought they might as well be dead if it wasn't for the occasional gurgling sounds they made.

At the end of the corridor was an open room.

And in that room he was.

She stepped in.

Finally she caught his attention.

He looked up from the hospital bed that held a person that he was staring at.

Next to the bed on a stool was a house carved from wood with beautiful detailing.

It must've been the size of a small toddler.

It was round and looked like a multi level cake that got smaller towards the top or maybe a Christmas pyramid. It was round and the wood had a light brown colour. Every angle revealed another beautiful detail. On the porch was a tire swing and some benches.

Some parts of the house were so thin and fragile that it seemed even the lightest gust of wind might break it.

She looked at him.

He didn't speak. Neither did she.

She grabbed the file from the end of the bed and observed it.

She tried to make out what it said but the paper was too yellow and old. The ink on the form was was faded.

On the place where a name was supposed to be was only an empty spot. It was clear by the state of the paper that once there had to be something there but now there wasn't

Her eyes skimmed the corrugated paper but she couldn't make anything out except for the age. 12. No. It didn't say 12 it said 129.

Carved on the paper next to the number was a house that resembled the piece of art next to the bed.

A skinny hand emerged from the bed and touched the wooden building.

A hand that was so skinny and wrinkled that it might as well belong to a skeleton.

The skin seemed paper thin. So thin the veins shone through it where the light hit it.

The bones were clearly visible and the long bony fingers affectionately caressed the texture of the miniature house.

Attached to the hand was an bony thin arm and for the first time she noticed the person that the hospital bed sheltered.

It was an old woman. Her cheeks were sunken in and her grey hair was thin. Her eyes were strictly cast on the piece of wood next to her bed and still it seemed as if she was looking at nothing in particular. As if she was looking but not seeing anything.

The woman's  hand grabbed the side of the house and gently spun it.

To the girl's surprise it didn't break and as it spun it played a beautiful melody like a music box with those dancing ballerinas in them.

“It's her's, you know? The house, I mean”, he said and finally looked up at his persecutor.

He stood up and beckoned her to follow him out in the hallway.

“Who is she?”, she asked.

“I don't know. Nobody knows”

“What's her name?”

“I don't know.”

“Doesn't she talk? Haven't you asked her? Why is she here? Why are YOU here? What kind of place even is this?”

“ Of course I've asked her. Everybody has. She just never answers. We aren't even sure if she can talk. Or if she can hear. I tried talking to her in the beginning but she never answered so I stopped talking”

“But who is she? Where do you know her from?”

“I don't”, he stated with a shrug.

She was getting frustrated.

“Why are you here then??”

“ I visit her. This is some kind of nursing home. Once I walked in here thinking it was abandoned. When I noticed that it wasn't I just kept walking. I kept walking until I came to her room. When the nurses found me sitting next to her bed  they asked me about her. And I asked them. Turns out that neither I nor they know anything about her except for her age apparently.”

“Why do you keep coming by?”, the girl's whole demeanor turned quiet.

“She doesn't have anybody. She is the oldest patient here. She was here before all the new nurses and staff got hired. I used to visit her every once in a while. But now she's dying and I don't want her to be alone. So I come by everyday now.”

There were still so many questions soaring through her mind but she needed to comprehend the newly gained information first.

When they re-entered the room the woman was still playing with her music house.

None of them talked. The atmosphere in the room demanded for them to be silent.

He grabbed another chair for his friend and so they sat in silence for who knows how long. Sometime along the way the same nurse that tried to stop the girl, entered the room and silently brought the two visitors some tea and biscuits served in fine china.

It was like a unspoken rule  or a spell that was cast over the room that when you enter it every sense of talking leaves you.

After a few hours of drinking their tea and listening to the sweet tune of the music box both of them quietly got up and left. The woman didn't even seem to notice. Maybe she did.

Before they left the room the girl thought she heard a whining sound. She looked back at her friend but he just kept walking. He did not hear it. She looked back to the old woman and found her gazing in their direction. But her eyes weren't focusing on her or anything in particular. So she just left. She didn't bring it up to her friend or the nurse or anybody else. It was probably just a loose floorboard. If she didn't make a sound all these times he visited her why would she start now?

On their way out the nurse told them that his visits do the old woman good.

And the girl promised to accompany him in the future. They said there goodbyes and left the old building.

They left the clearing. They left the forest and they entered the city. Neither one of them talked about what had happened that afternoon. As if it was just a figment of their imagination. It seemed surreal. It was night by now and the closer they got to home the more talkative they got. The old woman's spell wore off with every step they made. By the time they got home they excitedly talked about the game and the boy's winning shot. He walked her home, hugged her and told her he'd get her the next day so they could visit the little old woman again.

The next day when he got her they made their way over to the nursing home. And when they arrived the receptionist already awaited them.

Her face was gloom as she told them the old lady died in her sleep.

Without a word the boy just turned around and left.

The girl followed him. Once again she followed him like the first time she followed him on the way to the facility.

She tried to make out his expression but she couldn't read him.

Whether it was relaxation or conflict on his face she didn't know.

She, however, had a thousand thoughts running through her head.

Was that sound yesterday the woman trying to say goodbye? Or was she trying to make them stay? What would happen with that beautiful music box?

Who would hold the funeral? And what would her tombstone say?

The woman with no name.

The both of them never talked about what had happened again. Ever.

She didn't tell anybody and she knew for a fact that he didn't either.

She thought to know that he was sad and disappointed in himself for not being with her when it happened. The thought of her dying alone made her sad. She was sure he felt the same way.

Once many years later she tried to find the old woman's grave but without success.

If he ever tried to do so or not was a mystery to her.

And often she found herself imagining the 'what ifs'.

What if I told him about the noise?

Neither of them continued to visit the nursing home and by the time she was married and had children it all felt like a dream all over again.

And even when she was an old woman herself and lost all contact to her childhood friend she still thought back to the old woman with no name.

[dreamerrambler]

Sarkaari Canteen

“Sarkaari Canteen”, painted in red paint on a ply board partition painted in shabby white greets me as I reach the government canteen right next to the English wine shop. The wine shop is about two kms from the main road, across a bridge over a dirty drain which probably is a seasonal river of sort. The road, generously colonized by potholes, dirt, dust, drains, dogs, domestic garbage runs through a densely populated area full of tiny shops selling things of everyday needs, hawkers selling ‘chinese food’ (some of them with boards like Tiwari Chinese, Ankur momo, Yadav restaurant in hindi dangling from them), people standing, talking, shopping, idling, spitting, peeing and manoeuvring- on bikes, activas, precarious e-rikshas and on foot. Men and boys in pants and shirts, in T-shirts and jeans, kurtas and skull caps; women and girls in sari, suits, jeans and kurtas, burkas and hijabs and children with clothes and without, all around me. I trudged through that dusty path, asking for the way to the liquor shop, occasionally, from men, exclusively; selecting the victims of my enquiry after considerable visual examination of their religious beliefs, economic status and character. Finally I reached the liquor shop situated on right side of the road, large water filled potholes right infront of it and a plethora of men buzzing around it busily like bees around a rotting carcass. The government canteen

I brought a beer which was chilled, with beads of condensation on it, from the wine shop which had iron bars on it giving the impression of an old prison cell and stepped into the government canteen with the unopened bottle of beer in my hand. At the porch of the canteen is a small counter that fries chicken and fish right infront of you. A counter inside, on the right sells chana, salad, water bottles, disposable glasses and other such necessities. There is a large table with 6 plastic chairs kept infront of this counter. Behind this table is the plyboard partition (separating the inside of the canteen from the outside) shabbily painted in white and ‘Sarkaari Canteen’ written in hindi with bright red paint on it. Behind the partition are haphazard rows of tables with benches and plastic chairs around them. A side doorway on the right, with no door exits in the compound behind the wine shop housing the kitchen and scullery facilities.

The owner is a large, punjabi boy in jeans and T-shirt with beard and spiked hair who probably eats a lot of chicken, drinks daily and lifts weights. He asks for money upfront before taking any initiative on his part for the order placed. Assisting him behind the counter and running errands is a little, fair skinned balding man with thin arms in a capri and t-shirt that hugs his pot belly and accentuates it to make it his prime feature. Then there is the old sardarji, with very little hair on his face and head, a carelessly wrapped turban on his head, the shining moon of his bald scalp showing through the various layers of if a dirty, old cloth. I ordered a plate of chana and the punjabi boy asked me for money upfront without taking the least initiative or directing the little man towards the tray of chana masala. I paid, collected my tiny plate of chana- no bigger than a saucer, the unopened bottle of beer in other hand  and walked in behind the partition for the outside was already occupied by men, hurriedly gulping down their beers, their helmets in the other hand. I occupied the table right behind the main counter, near the door on the right. It was an old wooden table with four plastic chairs around it and an empty water jug in the middle. I sat on the chair in the corner, an old withering wooden cabinet with no shutter doors behind me, filled with empty bottles of whiskey and beer carelessly dumped into its shelves. I placed the chana on the table and opened the bottle of beer with my teeth and took a large gulp and placed the bottle on the table beside the tiny plate of chana masala.

There were a lot of men in the canteen (bar?); all of them were in their respective groups except me who was sitting and drinking alone in a corner. There was the group to my left-across the pathway that was illuminated by the evening light from the door in the partition-drinking and smoking in their factory uniforms and large safety shoes. Another large loud group of young men infront of me, across the door on the right, already a little drunk and probably celebrating something- an engagement, a child birth; certainly too extravagant if it was a party for promotion or pay hike. A few smaller groups, scattered, in the back, of heavy drinkers who had planted themselves strategically such that they could not be disturbed in their talks and deep introspections- of matters relating to life, and that of the heart. The room with high ceilings was thick with smoke and illuminated only by the evening light sneaking in through the two doors.

After witnessing people come and go, some munching and others selectively picking out of their plates and gulping down half of my beer and half of my tiny saucer of chana, I picked out a cigarette from the packet in my pocket and ventured to search for a match box- all from the chair I was slouching on. Just then I saw an old woman in a saree walk out of the door on the right to the men sitting across the door in the partition and give them a matchbox. She waited for one of them to light his cigarette and collected the matchbox from him and gazed to her right-to the back of the room and then turned around towards the door she came out of. She saw me with the cigarette on my lips, stopped infront of my table and waited for me to ask her for the matchbox. It was a little weird that she offer him- the man on my right-voluntarily, but waited on me to ask her for it. I, in my little drunk state and a little bewilderment asked, “Aunty, give me the matchbox” in hindi. She dropped the match box on the table and still waited on me, looking intently at me, to light my cigarette and return it back to her. Weird again. She collected the matchbox after I had used it and turned around and sat with her back to me, on the bench, on the other side of the table- which I had not noticed was there! She sat there, fiddling with the match box in her hand, observing the crowd in the room.

She wore a black colour blouse with a deep back cut of rectangular shape and a cheap printed saree with the pallu tucked into her waist; her hair black and tied into a low bun behind her head almost covering her neck. She was thin, with appreciable curves, wheatish complexion and tied her saree so low that it showed her naval and another two inches and hid her feet even if she walked. When she stood, it was with a feminine elegance of sort, but with both her palms resting on her hips, almost like teenage boys; caressing, rubbing, as if estimating their curvature or giving them a sensual massage. She walked with elegance too- a straight back thrusting her breasts forward, measured steps, a little flirty sway to her hips, arms swaying from side to side and a forward glance from gleaming eyes and a large toothless smile on her old, wrinkled, tired, dark face. She was probably in her late fifties but her face had aged more than her body. It was as if she had witnessed more life than she had encumbered. Or maybe she had tried really hard to keep her body young but could not stop her age from scribbling its stories on her face. It was difficult to ignore her.

She was unbelievably comfortable in her surroundings (even happy?) for she kept walking around, swaying her hips, picking empty bottles and plates from the tables and disposing them, somewhere. She was more comfortable there than I was. She knew people too.  Some of them asked her to run errands for them- “Aunty bring me a salad plate”; and she would carry the note to the counter holding it with the tips of her fingers and swinging it like a green leaf in breeze, returning with the plate and serving with a smile and small talk or a joke at which she would cackle with the men thundering with laughter around her.

I thought, “Maybe she had been one of those women who had served men and made them happy for a living.” In a fraction of a second I realised that I just defined an Indian house wife. “Maybe she had spent numerous days and nights in places like this. Maybe there was a time when she drank. Maybe she drinks, still. Maybe she’s drunk right now (and hence the big smile and the swaying hips) - that is why she chooses to work here!” There are no free lunches; there certainly is nothing like free liquor- another quick realisation of my moronic standpoint and I dropped the conclusion I had come to- on my own-with the imagination I had considered as rational data. But something kept pushing me- the notions as to how a woman should behave derived from the Indian middle class “values” I believe I was brought up with; the socially constructed mould gauging and judging the behaviours, actions and choices of women against the standard charts for a decent, “respectable” woman; my prejudices disguised as values - in the back of my mind, to brand her a whore. And that I did. I came to the conclusion that she had, in her earlier years, worked as a prostitute.

A ex-whore.

On one hand I derived a strange kick in drinking in a place like this accompanied by supposedly shady characters and on the other hand I felt guilty of judging an old woman’s character exclusively on the basis of my prejudices.  But I also felt proud of myself for I did not feel any dislike or condescension or hatred towards her. I simply accepted that reality (my opinion) of hers and maybe a little appreciation for her effort and zeal rose from my heart. I felt better than before. I needed some encouragement and I got it from acknowledgement and appreciation of goodness and strength. “I am as prone to falter as any other human being, but, even in my piddly understanding, if I am able to see and celebrate one of the most rooted virtues in the world, I think my prejudices can be, and should be forgiven”, I thought. I was happy. I drained the last drops of my beer into my mouth, mounted another cigarette on the left side of my lips, like I always do- unknowingly; and stood up to leave and took one last look at the place before I turned around. The old woman, looked me in the eyes, from across the side door- fading evening light casting a distinct luminous trapezoid block in the room  dividing the space between us-expecting me to ask her for the light. I looked at her, smiled and walked out.

[wordweasel]

October Spoop Fest #1

This month I’m trying to write one short horror story each day. I don’t really have a word limit so it can be anywhere from short fiction to (heaven forbid) a 30-pager. I’ll mark each post with the date and the prompt I used. For time, these are all first draft stories. I might revisit and edit them once October is over. Who knows! 

October 1st: Nostalgia The plastic wheels slide easily over Eve’s thumb. She wonders, briefly, if it would be worth anything on ebay--there’s no scratches and the paint still shines. But she flips the train around to examine its smiling face, and there’s an irony there she didn’t recognize when she was younger, which tarnishes the whole enterprise.

She drops the train back in the box marked “Eve’s things: toys” and moves to the window. The work makes her hot, and to keep it propped open she’s shoved another box (“Taxes: 1985-1992”) into the gap. Outside, the night beyond the window is unreachable, a black distance that stretches on and on, until it hits the lit upstairs window of the house at the far end of the street. A matchbox worth of light strikes her with a hiss.

When Eve was eleven, her mother took that job down at the gas station, working nights out on the freeway. There’d been a phone number scotch-taped to the kitchen wall, for emergencies, but the summer heat quickly curled the edges so it could only be read with fingers splayed to hold it flat. Eve never called it but she often imagined the situation that would precede such a thing--played at the horror of it, imagined some terrible fate that might befall her, and pictured her mother’s reaction when she came home, too late. But that was only an early evening game, and the nights were long despite the season. 

Eve rescued cardboard before it could go limp and gouged out train tracks using a closed pair of scissors until they were deep enough to catch the wheels. She built tunnels and covered bridges out of empty toilet paper rolls and cereal boxes. Slowly her entire bedroom turned into a kind of town, not like one she’d ever seen in real life but a kind of cookie tin town, with little streets lined with foil windows, and popsicle stick people leading busy lives. The train wound all the way around the town, with two switches that only took it to a second, larger loop that ran around the first. Concentric circles.

The train had two stops: Central Station, and the Mountains, so all the little popsicle stick people ever had to worry about was picnics. Sometimes bad things would happen but only a little--just enough to keep them on their toes.

Eve would stay up late, past her ten o’clock curfew, past midnight, until her eyes were blister-dry and it hurt to yawn, sometimes even until her mother’s car crackled over the gravel drive at five in the morning. The two of them would sleep until the afternoon and eat cereal at two, eggs at five, and bologna sandwiches right before her mother left for work again. Their tired faces were matching, their cutlery wasn’t.

One night Eve was lying on the floor next to her little town, her face pressed into the rough carpet, when she heard a sound. A glance at the clock told her it was only three and, besides, wasn’t the sound something different than her mother’s car? Yes, didn’t it sound like a song? 

The novelty was enough to pique her interest, even through the glaze of her insomnia, and she bit her lip and sat very still. Before long the sound came again: a mournful note, like an owl, coming through her bedroom window. The window was open but the curtains were pulled tight, so she crawled over to her nightstand to switch off the lamp, dousing the room in darkness. She fumbled her way to the window and drew back the curtains, just a little.

Outside the moon was yellow like a peach slice, and it dimly lit the edges of her yard, all the way to the bent oak tree with its broken swing. Beyond that the countryside was vague and shadowy, made up of ideas more than actuals. She listened again for the noise, and far away, in the house at the end of the street, a light in the upstairs window turned on. 

After she finishes sorting through the last of her mother’s paperwork, she piles the box on top of the others in the corner of her room. She likes grouping things like that, in little piles, where she can eyeball the entire domain of her accomplishment. There’s a final stack waiting in her mother’s closet, and the shed is sure to be another headache--but little by little, she finds herself making progress.

Eve’s mother could only take a few things with her to the residence, and since she wasn’t a sentimental person it was easy enough to pack. Eve thinks dryly that she never expected her mother to get out of this house before she did, but here we are, and anyway, she wouldn’t be far behind. 

She flicks off the old lamp on her nightstand and crawls into the twin-size bed. The mattress creaks under her weight. Maybe she’ll get a new one. She’s had a place picked out in town for a while now, with yellow-white cupboards just like the ones she has now, and a window that looks out onto an oak tree. Money is tight, but she has that job at the gas station, and she’s been working enough overtime to give her a little bit to spend on decor. Or maybe she’ll keep saving and even take a vacation. 

Lying down, a bubble of gas pops up her esophagus, bringing a bit of bile with it. She swallows it down and considers getting up to brush her teeth again--but she doesn’t struggle with sleep like she used to, and even as she’s thinking it, she’s already half asleep under the covers.

She wakes up what feels like moments later to a bright light shining through her bedroom window, and her heart pounding in her chest. Without moving her head she peeks, through her lashes, to the window at the foot of her bed, and that pinpoint of light widens into a funnel. It’s a burglar, she thinks, or a murderer. Someone checking to see if you’re awake. If you don’t move, if you stay still--But that’s silly, she thinks. I’m in my own house. 

With a dream-like confidence she slowly reaches beneath her bed for the baseball bat and, dragging it lightly across the carpet, she steps towards the window to look outside. It takes her a moment to realize that patch of bright light is the window in the house at the end of the street. Its glare is almost blinding, and she can feel the heat of it as if it were a spotlight. 

Annoyed, now, she pulls the curtains tight--but the light shines through, bright enough to light up her whole room, hot enough to bake her in it, too. A glance at the clock tells her it’s four, but she remembers that bout of insomnia that plagued her when she was young, and with a flash of anger she wonders if that distant window might have been to blame, then. 

She opens her window, as if to lean out and shout the light down--but when she does, all she hears is a low, mournful whistle.

The night is cool but not too cold, so she only slips on a cardigan and her loafers as she heads out the door. At the end of her gravel drive she could turn left to head to the road, which eventually would lead her to another road, and then that road into town--or she could turn right, towards the end of the street. She turns right. 

Even the crickets are asleep, so she walks up the lonely gravel with only the sounds of her own footsteps for company. Come to think of it, she’s never met the people in the house at the end of the street. Never seen them, except maybe--surely--as they drove by on their way to town. Eventually she gets to their house and sees a brown pick-up truck in the drive and, yes, that does look familiar. Yes, she must’ve seen them before. But neither Eve nor her mother were very good neighbors.This thought makes her climb the front steps with shaken confidence. Because it’s easy to be inconsiderate to neighbors you don’t know, and now that she’s on their porch it feels like they might know each other, after all, if only through distant lit windows.

The door cracks open before her. Her feet step off the shaggy welcome mat, and into the front dark hall. A stairwell immediately ahead of her is crowned at the top with a veil of light, so it seems that’s the obvious place to go. Besides, the whistling is coming from upstairs, as well--only now it’s loud, and instead of mournful it’s forceful. She has to hurry towards it or she’ll surely miss what she came for. She leaves the door open behind her because it will take care of itself, and sure enough, with a pneumatic hiss, it closes shut as she steps further inside. 

She feels the house begin to grind under her feet, and movement tugs her forward, up the stairs, curling around the banister until she reaches the top landing and there, before her, is that brightly lit room. The one that kept her up at night, the one that made her lose sleep, lose daylight, lose more than one summer, more than one year. She steps inside this room. There are four benches, each facing towards the door--it, too, swings shut behind her. The benches are wooden with ornate metal frames, painted red. The light is everywhere, but has no source. 

Outside, the house moves. Its wheels turn, slowly at first, with a little bit of a lurch at the end of each rotation. Eve realizes, too late, that in coming here she’s allowed herself to be taken away.But that door was shut behind her. It’s sealed with mechanical certainty--no latch or lever or handle can make it give way. Around her, the house issues a sharp, shrill whistle. It cuts through her head and cuts through the darkness of the countryside. 

She pries open the window, even with the heat of the light searing her back, and leans out--the landscape around her is contorted by the house’s speed, but that’s not what makes it unfamiliar. Finally she recoils from the window, the heat of the light is too much, and she stumbles back against the far corner of the room. 

She knows that most trains don’t only travel in a loop. She knows that most trains have a destination that’s different from its departure. She crouches in the corner, her eyes wide, as the engine churns beneath her.