#y thing but to rot in my room full of my old memories i wish i culdnt cry when i write this

[azaleavi]

Woman Like Me - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky meets someone in Madripoor who reminds him of himself a long time ago

Warning(s): language, bad writing lol

Author’s Note: this is my first time writing so any feedback is appreciated and i didn’t know how to end it so it’s horrible but i tried

Word count: 2.2K

Part 2

“Selby will see you now”

The three men walk through the corridors and into the room where Selby is waiting for them. It is full of cash and guns on tables.

“You should know Baron. People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.”

“Not a demand, an offer” Zemo sits down on the couch while Sam and Bucky stand on either side of it.

“A lot has changed since you were here last” Selby eyes Bucky up and down, clearly recognising him as the Winter Soldier “By the way I thought you were rotting away in a German prison” she turns back to the man sitting in front of her and lifts her eyebrows “How did you escape?”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo shrugs “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for”

“Yore taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger” the woman points at Sam then smiles at him, not paying attention to Zemo anymore. Sam nods slightly, trying to speak as little as possible. Selby playfully purrs at him, joking about his name. Sam looks away not wanting to give her the satisfaction of replying to that. She turns back to Zemo and smiles.

“What’s the offer?”

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum” Zemo stands up walking over to where Bucky is standing acting like the Winter Soldier “and I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course” he holds Bucky’s shoulders while he tries his best to not react. That was not part of the plan. But of course you can’t trust Zemo to not change it to whatever benefits him.”He will do anything you want” he grabs a hold of his chin insinuating things Bucky doesn’t even want to think about. He hates it. Feeling like a toy between the two and he can’t do anything about it. Not if he wants to succeed in getting the information they need.

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember” she smiles, pleased. “I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately” Zemo sits back down on the couch waiting for Selby to start talking.

“Yeah you were right to came to me. Arrogant, but right. The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or…” she looks at Bucky for a second “condemn, depending on what side you’re on.”

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?”

“Oh. The bread crumbs you can have for free but the bakery is gonna cost you Baron. And unfortunately you don’t have the means to pay me” she stands, walking closer to Sam. Bucky immediately tenses, ready for a fight. Something doesn’t feel right.” I don’t need your Soldier” she smiles, something sinister behind it ”as I have my own little puppet. Tell her to come in” the three of them freeze as one of the men with guns goes through a door in the back.

They hear his voice but can’t make out what he says. When he stops talking a woman walks out, into the room they’re in. Bucky feels like his world is turned upside down. The woman is fully decked out with guns and knives and is wearing tactical gear with combat boots. But that’s not what unnerves Bucky. It’s the dead, soulless eyes that stare back at him. A cruel reminder of what he used to look like.

“Come here girl” Selby smiles and the woman complies without a question never taking her eyes off the strangers in the room “look at that. Isn’t it amazing what a few words can do a person’s mind when said in the right order?” Bucky finally looks at Selby realising she is watching him “Isn’t that right Winter Soldier?” Bucky can’t speak. He knows he can’t break character, but it’s damn hard not to when he sees someone like him and he knows he should help.

“How is this possible?” Zemo breaks the silence, clearly baffled by seeing another winter soldier-like person.

“Well it was quite easy to get a hold of Hydra’s files in Madripoor” Selby walks behind the woman who can’t be older than 25 and puts her hands on her shoulder. “Don’t worry though, they were sadly destroyed after we used it once on her. But we got the perfect soldier out of it” Bucky tenses at the mention of the perfect soldier. That’s what he was called back then. I need to help this girl he thinks I can’t let her go through the same shit I had to go through. He looks at Sam who is already looking back at him. They seem to think about the same thing.

“Harcos…” Selby starts talking in a foreign language but she is interrupted by a glass window shattering. Bucky sees Selby on the floor dead, a bullet hole in her chest and he immediately goes into fight mode. The woman or harcos he should say doesn’t waste any time and takes a gun off her back but before she can start shooting he is in front of her. He tries to twist the gun out of her hands but he finds out that she is strong. Too strong for her to be human. She is a super soldier which shouldn’t surprise him at this point but it still does.

They start fighting but their strength is evenly matched and Bucky doesn’t want to kill her. He uses his metal arm to finally grab the gun from her and throws it to the side. She kicks him in the chest and he is flung backwards into the wall. Bucky gets a hold of the gun he threw away and knocks her out with the back of it. The others finish fighting as well and they look at each other.

“Now what?” asks Sam looking at the woman lying on the floor.

“I recommend we kill her” chimes in Zemo before Bucky can start talking.

“We are not killing her” Bucky goes and picks her up, thinking about how they could get her out of here without drawing too much attention. He hold her bridal style and puts her head against his neck, hiding her face.”we need to get out of here and fast” Zemo walks to the door, opens it a little and looks through the open space.

“Put down your guns and follow my lead” the other two are hesitant to do what Zemo says but they don’t really have any other choice. They walk through the doors and out into the streets trying to look as casual as possible. Well, as casual you can be with an unconscious woman in your hands. But in Madripoor it’s not an uncommon sight so no one really pays attention to them. That is until every single person in the vicinity starts getting text messages and looks at them. Shit they know what happened Bucky thinks and they start to walk faster. Suddenly the people around them get out their guns and start shooting at them. Zemo runs to the right while Bucky and Sam start running straight down the street.

“I can’t run in these heels” Sam shouts trying to keep up with Bucky who is running slower than he could so he doesn’t leave Sam behind. They turn into a darker alley with to people on motorcycles following them. Suddenly two shots rang out from somewhere in one of the buildings and the motorcyclists are dead on the ground.

“You seem to have a guardian angel” Zemo shows up, out of breath from all the running.

“Well this is too perfect” Sharon shows up out of nowhere holding a gun in her hands. Her eyes immediately go to the woman in Bucky’s hands and the men can see her surprise. “Please tell me that’s not Harcos in your hands” Bucky looks down to see the woman, who seems to be calmly sleeping. How she didn’t wake up while they were running around is beyond him, but he is glad he doesn’t have to fight her again.

“Would you believe me if I said no?” asks Sam trying to lighten the situation.

“We need to get out of here before they see you carrying around Madripoor’s most valuable asset.” Bucky tenses, pulling her closer and not liking how that sounds. Asset. The word brings back horrible memories of times he would much rather forget. He needs to help this girl. He will not allow someone else be called asset “come on, I have a place in High Town where you can lie low” Sharon starts walking and the men follow him, Sam dragging Zemo with him.

They walk into her place which is filled with stolen artwork, that turns out to be the original.

“So can you tell us who is this harcos that Bucky decided to save?” Sam sends a look at Bucky who is putting the woman down on the couch. She is still out cold which is starting to get concerning.

“Y/N L/N. 24 years old. Has been a super soldier since she was a kid. She was Nagel’s first patient” she draws air quotes with her fingers ”well… the first successful one anyway. And when the Blip happened Selby used the chaos to get the files on the brainwashing and used it on her. Her memories are not gone like your resident Winter Soldier here but she still has trigger words that turn her into a mindless killing machine” they all watched the girl who started to stir awake from her deep sleep.

“Uhm… how are we going to go about this?” Sam watched her intently, getting ready for a fight. Bucky was still standing next to her when she opened her eyes staring straight into his. She sat up, panicked trying to crawl back from him. She obviously knew who he was and she was scared. How is she scared of him? She is supposed to be a super-soldier.

“What do you want?” she speaks for the first time.

“Hey it’s okay, we don’t want to hurt you” Sam walked over to her trying to calm her down. She snaps her head at him.

“Well then I would like an explanation” Y/N is till unsure about them but once in her life she wants to trust people and maybe the Avengers would be a good start.

“Do you remember fighting me?” Bucky speaks up.

“Yeah, kinda hard to forget fighting the Winter Soldier” she looks back at Bucky.

“I’m not him anymore” he shakes his head.

“Well at least someone got out of this thing” she shows a pained smile

“I head you have trigger words too”

“Yes and I would rather you don’t say them” he can’t understand how she can joke about something like this.

“We don’t even know the words” Sharon speaks

“Although I wish I did” Zemo smiles trying to get a rise out of y/n. But he doesn’t know her so he doesn’t know that that’s a very hard thing to do. Oh she gets angry easily but she was trained to not show it and not act on it.

“Very funny Zemo” she sends him a mock smile. He seems surprised that she knows who he is which she notices “Yes I know who you are, don’t be so surprised. So what are the Avengers doing in Madripoor?” she turns to Sam.

“A group of people got hold of the super-soldier serum and they used it on themselves so we are trying to stop them” Sam explains

“Sounds fun”

“I think she would be a valuable help” Zemo speaks again and Bucky immediately thinks that he has some ulterior motives.

“Stop your schemes Zemo” Sam shuts him down but y/n seems to be deep in thought.

“I mean she could help…” Bucky starts but Sam sends him a pointed look so he shuts his mouth.

“We do not need another liability with us” Sam looks at y/n who is already looking at him “No offence”

“None taken, but I agree with James” she stands up and walks over to Sam “I understand that I’m not stable, but I know what it’s like to have the serum in your veins and I want to help any way I can. As long as no one says the words I’m good”

“Yeah that’s exactly my concern. What if someone does know the trigger words and uses it against us? Against you?” he points at her. She thinks about if for a second.

“Okay how about this? I go with you but only step in to help when you say I can.” She offers, a hopeful look in her eyes. Sam knows she just wants to help but it’s still risky. He sighs.

“You can come if you do what I say. But if I feel like you are risking our mission you are sitting it out and only come in when I tell you to. Understand?” he says firmly, holding out his hand. She takes it and they shake hands.

“Let’s get these super-soldiers”

[insufferablelust]

Pretty little thing, (II)

Warnings : this series will be filled with Adult content, upcoming smut, murder, psychotic behaviors, dark kinks, traumatic events, manipulation, gaslighting, and isolation, interrogations, Daddy issues, abusive parents, blood, Spencer Reid x Unsub!Reader.

This is a dark fic, there might be stuff that could trigger you so please read with caution and/or don’t read it if you are sensitive to the stuff in the warnings.

MASTERLIST.

——————

like i’m a flower,

that’ll rot at a speed of light,

like i’m a ripe peach,

that’ll bruise in the daylight.

——————

“Y/N Y/l/N put your hands on the air and hand us your weapon!”

Y/N’s brain thrummed against her skull, her lips quivered as she laughed loudly at the situation she was under, her hands up after she has tossed her gun and knife, turning around with knuckles all bloodied and face tear stained with angry red splotches— the sight truly psychotic.

“You’re making the biggest fucking mistake, Professor.” She chuckled, head tilting to the side at the gun cocking beside her head. Her eyes never leaving Spencer’s as Luke cuffed her scarred wrists behind her break and guided her outside of the house to the police car.

Spencer watched as she continued laughing from inside the car, her eyes never leaving his as his eyes stayed with hers. “She’s truly a narcissist huh?” He was blurred out of his thoughts by JJ’s voice beside him, His brain can’t seemed to let go of her voice chanting ‘mistake’ over and over inside his head.

“Spence?” JJ tapped his shoulder, jolting him from his mindless thoughts of a girl, the girl he arrested, the girl in the car, the girl who killed so many others, the girl who worked with cat, the girl— that looked innocent.

————

He stared at her through the window pane, he saw her bandaged knuckles, her head hung low and the wrist twisting around the cuffs. The more Spencer looked at her, the more he connected the dots, the more her remembered every foggy memories that surrounded her, every time cat mentioned her name before.

“Y/l/N isn’t dumb Spencie—“ Cat rolled her eyes, “She’s quite smart actually, when i’m dead she wouldn’t dare to betray me. do you know why?” She challenged, licking her lips in a cocky manner,

“Tell me.”

“Because i live inside her, every time she breathes it’s because i allow it— even after i’m dead, she’ll keep doing what she does best, killing our fathers.”

Our fathers,

Our fathers,

“Our fathers.” Spencer blurted out suddenly, alerting Emily who was about to stepped into the interrogation room. “What?”

“Our fathers, that’s what cat said when i visited her last to talk about Y/N.” He whispered the last part, still unable to connect all the dots. It’s like when it comes to Y/N, he freezes, he stopped breathing, his mind stopped thinking. Its like he had known her for so long— that she was someone special to him.

“Let me talk to her..” He pleaded, fingers gripping the door tightly— eyes begging Prentiss to just let him talk to her. “Spencer you’re—“

“Conflict of interest, yes but i— i know her better than anyone here okay, give me a chance. She trusted me more because she knows me.” Emily’s eyes switched between Spencer’s and Rossi’s, looking for the best decision. “You know the protocols, just get her to talk, if things get difficult in there i won’t hesitate to pull you out of this case.” She stated firmly giving the files over to Reid, which he thanked her for, before stepping into the room.

———

Y/N felt him before even seeing him, she felt the warmth of his presence before she even had the knowledge of touching him— his body heat. Yet, Y/N knew it was him, he’s here with her. She kept her head low, closing her eyes tightly as she felt the low rumble of his voice as he sat down on the opposite chair.

“Hello, Y/N.”

She smiled, the sound of her name— her real name rolling from his tongue brought her some peace and quiet. Stopping her raging mind from all the torture she endured. It was 5 seconds of heaven, she concluded.

“Y/N, I’m—“

She giggled before he even muttered a third word, she giggled loudly but her head kept hanging down, she could already paint his expression inside her mind— she had studied him in great details for years, she knew every twitch of his face without even looking at him, like it was imprinted deep in the core of her memory.

“Is there something funny?”

He used that tone, the tone that made her shivered whenever he uses them on class, when he had scolded her because she was late, when he corrected her because she ‘accidentally’ did all her homework wrong. The very same tone she adored, that made her nerves twitched and seared her core. So she shrugged, licking her lips as if he could see her.

“Y/N Y/l/N, born November 17th 1985, only daughter of Amethyst Ren who died giving birth to her, and William—“

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Her head snapped, looking at him with a sharp glare— a glare so sharp that it could cut through the glass. Spencer remained calm as he sees the way her fingers twitching together, and her skin on her wrist digging painfully against the cuffs.

“Be careful not to hurt yourself, as i was saying.. William Y/l/N who was a—“

“Fucking stop.” Her skin digs through the cuffs painfully as tears spilled out of her eyes— her tone was raging with anger.

Reid looked at her briefly before continuing with a straight face, trying so hard not to show any emotions, “A local businessman, apparently he raised Y/N—“

“You have a fucking death wish, Professor.” The blood dripped onto the interrogation table as the sharp cuffs nicked the skin, her legs bounced hard against the desk, a sign of agitation and pent up frustration.

“He raised Y/N dutifully and he—“

“He was an abusive fucking prick, who destroyed my life.” Y/N screamed loudly, her hand banging the table as Emily marched in to the room, trying to pull Spencer out, “Reid, out.” She said sternly but Spencer refused.

“He was a fucking coward, do you know what he did, professor? he broke me— damaged me into this this fucking monster” Y/N let out a sinister smile as she fought through the sobs, “My mother— my mother, he killed my mother. He killed her because do you know what men like him wants? what gets him off, professor? some young girl to torture,” She’s full on laughing now as she stopped the bounce on her knees and stilled completely,

“My mother was his precious girl, yet she’d grown too old so- so then he had me— and it was time for her to go.” She tilted her head to the side, “I was perfect for him, his personal punching bag..” Y/N closed her eyes briefly before opening them again and smiled sweetly at Spencer and Emily, “I never killed anyone, not once, i might be insane— might thought about killing, but there’s only one person i want to kill, and i haven’t gotten the chance yet.” She leaned in closer to Spencer as her waist bent over the table,

“I’m not Cat, Professor. I’m smarter than her, you know that. She thought she manipulated me, made me her personal clean up puppet. But, look at us now— she’s underground and i’m up here with her favorite man.” Y/N bit her lips, eyes pierced at Spencer’s “If you want to Arrest me, arrest me. But you know damn well, i’m just an innocent and beaten up daddy’s girl. My hands are clean.” She sat back down as her eyes flicked to Emily and smiles sweetly,

“I want a lawyer, please and thank you.”

————

“We’ve got enough evidence to arrest her, her fingerprints was all over Cat’s victims.” JJ voice rang through the room as the others kept on discussing about Y/N lawyering up,

“Yeah, but why is she lawyering up now? she knew about the evidence, she left them on purpose at the latest crime scene 2 years ago.” Rossi said, his eyes trailed over to Spencer who hasn’t said much after the interrogation room, eyes glued to her file and seemingly deep in thought.

“Right, it doesn’t make sense. She could’ve stayed hidden if she wanted to— she managed to do that all this time. Why expose herself to Spencer now?” Tara chimed in, head shaking at the puzzle thats in front of them, confusing each and every one of them. Whilst Spencer’s eyes blinked repeatedly as he remembered, the words that left Y/N’s lips,

“My hands are clean.”

“You know that, Professor.”

“Beaten up Daddy’s girl,”

“Daddy’s girl.”

“She never killed anyone.” The table went silent as he spoke up, his eyes darted to the picture of William on the board then back to his team,

“Spencer—“ JJ was about to cut him off before he murmured,

“The reason why she exposed herself now is because she found her ultimate target, the one she has been after all these years, she was right— she’s way too smart to fall into anyone’s game even Cat’s. I’ve seen her ability enough times to know how observant and smart she is combined with the fact that She has managed to stay hidden all these years when Cat was too unstable to see through my lies when i arrested her,

That’s why we never found any evidence except the fingerprints— we profiled that this splatter of blood..” He pointed to the picture on the board and took a deep sigh “was an act of someone cleaning up, all of the murder site said the same things about her fingerprints— clean up.” He finishes, whispering the last word.

Spencer looked up to see his teammates all shocked, especially JJ who has her palm on top of his shoulder trying to say something but clearly couldn’t, then his eyes flicked to Emily as she stood and walked over to him,

“It’s not impossible.” She stated, leaning into the table as she used her palm to support her body, “Emily—“ It was Alvez this time whom raised the doubt,

“No i mean think about it, The blood, the way she stayed hidden and her sudden appearance, her behaviors— we profiled her as the exact epitome of Cat Adams but what if that was only her cover up. If she was truly a narcissistic psychopath she wouldn’t have the ego to deny any of the murders— she would be proud of it. What if, all these time we weren’t looking for a killer, but the misunderstood puppeteer?” Emily grabbed a photo of her and placed it on the table,

“Well then who’s her actual target?” Penelope bit her lip nervously as Spencer placed a photo of,

“William Y/L/N, her father.” Next to her’s.

“Garcia—“

“On it!”

————

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[sams-sass]

The Others pt 7

Here is the next part to The Others. Hope you guys like it, thanks for all the love, and as always: stay sassy.

*sorry if I tagged you already, I accidentally deleted the original post. 

Read Parts One through Six here:

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Pairings: Sam x Psychic!Reader

Warnings: Discussions of death, discussions of past and self doubt, angst, fluff

-----------------

You were laying across the backseat of the impala, Jenny laying on top of you. You felt her hot tears hitting your shirt and soaking through to your skin. You were taking her home. There was no need for her to suffer anymore than she already had. She had seen and dealt enough with the demons. Her family had been worried sick since she was reported missing at the school and it was time she went home. It was time she had the chance to recuperate in peace with people she loved and who loved her right back.

“I’m so sorry.” She said against your chest, her voice was small.

“Don’t be sorry. You have been so brave throughout this whole thing. You deserve some rest.” You ran your fingers through her hair and wrapped your arms around her.

“Y/N is right, Jenny. You have done more than enough, you should be with your family now. We’ll get the sons of bitches.” Dean said, looking at the two of you in the rearview mirror. Jenny sniffled and nodded, closing her eyes tight in fear.

“What am I going to tell them?” She asked, sitting up and looking out the window.

“As much of the truth as you want. If you want to make up a complete lie, I will back you up. If you want to tell them everything, I will back you up. Tell them whatever you feel comfortable with.” You found her eyes, sending her a reassuring smile and grabbing her hand. She tried to smile back, but you could still see the worry in her eyes.

Dean pulled up to her house about an hour later, all the lights were on and you could see movement inside. Jenny’s lips parted and all the air in her lungs felt trapped. She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. The door flung open and her mom ran out onto the driveway. You saw Jenny’s face twist in both pain and relief as she opened the door and ran into her mothers waiting arms. They cried together, holding each other tightly in the cool evening air. You touched your cheek and felt the wetness on your skin, realizing you were crying as well. You got out of the car and walked over to them, touched Jenny on the shoulder. They pulled apart and her mother quickly gathered you in her arms as well.

“Thank you. Thank you so much for bringing my baby home.” She whispered in your ear. Jenny pulled you to her after her mom let you go. You inhaled her scent and let it stay in your lungs for a moment. She pulled back slightly, still holding you in her arms. She looked you deep in the eyes.

“You can do this, Y/N. You go back there and you kick ass. You are so strong, I am so proud of you. You kill those bastards for what they did to me.” Her eyes were filled with tears, her face red and swollen. You nodded, holding back your emotions. She let you go and fell against her mom again, they walked inside holding each other as you climbed back in the car.

“Ready?” Sam asked, turning around to look at you. You paused for a moment and let the question settle inside you. You were ready. Ready to take the fight to them, ready to use whatever strength you had to get the job done. You were ready to end this.

“Ready.” You answered, your voice was even and calm.

 --------------------

Jenny didn’t live far from campus, you pulled in about an hour and a half later. The three of you went into your apartment to make a plan and for a place to crash. You moved everything off the dining room table so the boys could lay out maps of campus, books bobby gave you, and a journal. Sam left to get you guys food, leaving you and Dean alone.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea if you come with us.” Dean didn’t even wait for the door to fully close.

“Sam already gave me the ‘I don’t want you to get hurt’ speech.” You answered, looking up at him.

“That’s exactly why I don’t want you to come, Y/N. I was with him when Jess died. It almost broke him. He had nightmares about her death for months afterward. He couldn’t mention her without almost breaking down, I still see him struggle with it. I also see that he cares for you deeply and I can’t watch him get hurt again, not like that. Especially because it’s this demon.” Dean had come around the table and took your shoulders in his hands. Looking directly into your eyes.

“Dean, I can’t imagine what you and Sam have gone through because of this demon. Your mom and then Sam’s girlfriend, it’s horrible and I am so sorry. I have to do this, Dean, I have to fight them for Jenny. She is like a sister to me, and what they did to her…and that I had to watch it. I want them gone. For good. For Jenny, for Jess, for your mom, and for you two. I completely understand that you don’t want me to get hurt. If I was in your shoes, I would be saying the same thing. I’m going with you. I have to do this.” Now it was your turn to look into Dean’s eyes.

“Well, you’re stubborn. You and Sam have that in common.” Dean laughed, taking his hands off your shoulders. You giggled too, playing with a strand of hair. Sam walked in with food and beer, handing one to his brother and then you. You ate in relative silence, most of the food untouched. Then you made your plan.

“I say, we just give them what they want. Me on a platter.” Sam said, taking a sip of beer.

“No, Sam, that’s just stupid and too risky.” Dean argued back. “Somehow we need to get in there so we can make devils traps in the house.” He leaned back in his chair.

“What if we go first thing in the morning and watch? We know how many of them are in there and they can’t all be missing class.” You suggested, placing your elbows on the table.

“Best idea I have heard all night.” Dean replied, standing and stretching his arms out. “I’m exhausted, night you two.” He then walked away and into Jenny’s room to get some rest, not giving Sam anytime to argue back. Sam let out a long sigh next to you and sunk a little in his chair, defeated.

“I’m gonna shower, why don’t you find something for us to watch.” You stood and ran your fingers through his hair, cupping his jaw with your hand before walking away.

After your shower, you joined Sam on the couch with your beer. He was still flipping through channels, his eyes clearly not seeing the screen. You reached over and placed your hand over his, taking the remote and turning off the TV.

“Wanna talk about it?” You asked, pulling your legs up onto the couch.

“Talk about what?” He asked back. There was a smidge of anger in his voice.

“Whatever is bothering you.” You answered, leaning closer to him.

“This demon. It killed my mom. It killed Jess. Dean and I, we think it killed our dad too. Y/N, if it does anything to you…I don’t think I could handle it. I don’t think I could go on. I have already lost three people and my childhood to this demon. I can’t-I can’t lose anyone else I care about. I really wish you would just stay here tomorrow.” He tried again to tell you how he felt. You could see the unshed tears and raw emotion in his eyes as he spoke. You licked your lips and looked down at the couch, taking a deep breath into your lungs.

“When I was 10 I had a crush on this boy down the street. His name was Riley. He was a year older than me so I thought he was really cool and mature.” You smiled at the memory, Sam smiled with you. “One day, we were playing outside. It was a nice sunny day out. I remember the smell of his moms flower garden. He touched my shoulder, nothing weird, but I saw it. I saw how he died. I watched him get hit by a car while he was on his bike. I saw his bike, the metal mangled and twisted in the road. I felt his last breath leave his lungs. I heard his head hit the pavement so hard it cracked. And do you know what I did?” You looked directly at Sam then, he was hanging on every word you were speaking. He shook his head and waited for the answer. “Nothing. I didn’t do a damn thing. I went home and never spoke of it to anyone. I was petrified. What would happen if I told someone? Would they yell at me? Would I get in trouble? Then, the most amazing thing happened. Nothing. Nothing happened to Riley, he went and lived his life. For two more years. On a warm summers night in the middle of July, fate took him. The crickets were so loud that night, and the moon was full and heavy in the sky. When he was 13 years old he was riding his bike home from a friends, it wasn’t too late but it was already dark out. The car didn’t see him. He died and it was all my fault because I kept this horrible secret to myself. I didn’t tell anyone because I was scared what would happen to me, and Riley died because of it.” You were crying now, the tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Y/N, it wasn’t your fault, you probably couldn’t have stopped it.” Sam leaned towards you, his hand running over yours.

“I felt it as soon as it happened. I was in my room, enjoying my Friday night and my heart stopped. I heard his breath in my ear. He never came to visit me, but I couldn’t get his face out of my mind. On summer nights when I am laying alone in bed, the wind outside will sound like his last breath. When the moon is full and high in the sky, I see the way the moonlight reflected off his bike in the street. When the nights are warm and the crickets are singing their endless song, I can still see his honey brown eyes and his curly black hair. Ever since the day he died I have lived in fear of closing my eyes, for what I might see when I do. I am always afraid of the cold and lonely nights when the air changes and I see my breath against the pitch black of night. Who will come into my room? Who will touch me with their boney, cold and grey skin. Who will whisper in my ear with their rotting breath?” You looked up at him. Your eyes wide. “Then you came. I touched you and I felt warm again, you kissed me and I saw colors again. I have to do this, Sam. I have to fight them, because if I don’t it will haunt me for the rest of my days. I will see those girls every time I close my eyes, just like Riley. I got pulled into this, and I intend to see it through.” You swallowed down your emotions, your throat raw from crying.

“I know what you mean. When I touch you, I feel warm too. I feel excited and calm all at once. When we kissed, I swear I could feel myself being filled from head to toe. I’m not sure what spell is over us, but I don’t want it to ever be broken.” He reached up, running his fingers over your cheek. “We’ll do this together.” He nodded once, looking you in the eye. You smiled and jumped on top of him. Your arms flying around his neck and holding him impossibly close to you. Your legs on either side of his trim waist, heat rolling through you. Your lips molded against his, bring all sorts of feelings up. The way his hands twisted into your hair, pulling ever so slightly. The way he listened to your every breath and sound, following your exact instructions. It was like the two of you were reading each other, never ending chapters written with heartbeats and breaths across skin.

The next morning you were in the impala outside the frat house. It was early. You yawned in the cold and staleness of morning, blinking your eyes. You held the coffee cup in both of your hands, keeping them warm. Movement. All of you turned and looked through whatever windows you could see into. Two boys left the house. They didn’t say a word the entire time, just walking with vacant expressions. About fifteen minuets later three more left, wearing the same vacant expressions. The three of you exchanged looks. Another twenty minuets went by and then two more walked out, one of them being Brandon. After they were out of eyesight you went in, Dean first with you and Sam behind. Sam kept you closely behind him. Sam had his gun raised in front of him. He was in a crouching stance as he silently walked around the house, clearing each room.  

“Hold onto my jacket.” He whispered, turning his head slightly. You reached up and grabbed a fistful of his jacket, stepping with him throughout the house. There was no one in the house, you were all alone.

“Well, once again, that was weirdly easy.” Dean said, lowering his gun slightly. Sam nodded in agreement. Even for you, it did seem too easy. The boys lifted rugs, moved beds, and rearranged furniture to paint devils traps on the floor. They stood on chairs and counters to paint them on the ceiling as well. You looked around the house, touching things as you went. Something was bothering you that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. There was a strange buzzing happening inside you, it seemed like it was leading you somewhere. You closed your eyes and opened your mind. Listening to the energy around you. It was pulling you towards the basement. You opened the door and turned the light on. The moldy and stale air hit you in the face instantly. You gingerly walked down the stairs and into the disgusting and grimy basement. Dirt and dust covered every inch. Insects and rodents, dead and alive, were everywhere. You moved through the basement, keeping your arms close to your side. There was a doorway, when you walked through you saw the room from your vision. This is where they hurt Jenny. This is where the yellow eyed demon spoke to you. This is where they would sacrifice you. The buzzing was back and stronger than before. You held up one hand as you walked, letting it guide you. Off to the side was a door. You touched the doorknob and took a sharp inhale.

A girl laid on the table. She was bloody and old looking. Her eyes were wide, but unseeing. She was dead. You saw that she had the same brand on her chest that Jenny had. Brandon lifted her from the table and opened the door. He tossed her body in with the others before he wiped his hands on his jeans, his face a scowl.

You blinked back into the now, your breath coming in ragged. You raced back up the stairs and ran directly into Sam, wrapping your arms around him. He held you against him, his fingers tracing your neck.

“They are in the basement.” You mumbled against his shirt. “All of them, the girls. They are down there.” You felt him lift his chin off the top of your head. You leaned back to look at him, his face was one of worry.

“Sam, take her back to her apartment.” Dean walked over to the two of you.

“Dean, what if they come back?” Sam asked, letting you go.

“I’ve got an arsenal.” Dean replied, flicking his head towards his duffel bag.

“I’ll drop her off and then come right back.” Sam said, walking towards the door. You in tow. You wanted to help, but something told you there was something that needed to be done. Something that you didn’t want or need to see. You and Sam climbed into the impala and headed back to your apartment. It was two o’clock in the afternoon, most of the day spent at the house. You and Sam walked into the apartment, something didn’t feel right. A chill ran through you and you stopped dead in your tracks. You heard the sound of a hard object against a skull. Heard Sam fall to the floor. Then you felt the sharp pain yourself, you fell to the floor. Blackness took you.

You woke with a throbbing and heavy pain in your head. You blinked a few times, your vision blurry. You lifted your head feeling your body screaming at you. You groaned and tried to move your hands, only to realize they were tied behind your back. You panicked and began to wiggle, jolting your arms against the ropes.

“Hello, Y/N.” Your eyes widened and your head shot up towards the voice. Brandon. “I see you brought me a Winchester as well.” He was leaning against the doorframe into your living room.

“I’ll kill you.” Sam spoke, he was tied up too. His back against yours in the middle of your kitchen. There was suddenly banging on the door.

“Sam! Y/N!” Deans voice was panicked as he pounded on the door.

“Can’t let big bro get to you.” Brandon pushed himself off the wall and placed his hands on you and Sam’s shoulders. There was a whooshing sound and then you were in the basement. The filthy and disgusting basement. All the frat boys were standing around the table in the basement. Their bodies were covered in bruises and their eyes were a deep onyx. There was another man there that you didn’t recognize. He was older than the others and you didn’t understand why he was there in the basement. He had a large smile on his face that looked ghastly against the darkness of the situation. He turned his head slightly and you caught a glimpse of his eyes, a pale and spotted yellow. He looked directly at you. Directly into your eyes.

“Hello, Y/N, I have waited so so long.” His voice was grossly cheery in the dank basement.

Tags: @watermelonlipstick​ @virtualheaderssupernaturalnerd​ @aeo10fan​ @hecatemacbeth7​ @doctorlilo​ @wnchetrs​ @lukawats​ @defenderrosetyler​

[fantastic-bby]

Left Behind

Pairing: (f)reader x Jinyoung

Word count: 6.4k

Genre: Ghost!Jinyoung, Angst

Summary: Jinyoung has spent years alone in the abandoned house his soul had been tied to. After a living soul steps into the house to explore, he asks for her help in which she agrees and ends up uncovering what he had to unfortunately leave behind.

Warnings: Death, suicide, murder, grieving.

“Don’t leave me!” You called out as you watched your so called best friend and flatmate dash out of the house, leaving you all alone. You grumble out curses under your breath as you make the brave decision to continue exploring this abandoned - also rumoured to be haunted - house. 

The inside is as dilapidated as the outside looks and the rotting wood creaks under your footsteps as you make your way further into the house with your phone flashlight guiding your way through the dimly lit building.

It was Felix’s idea to explore it and yet he was the one who abandoned you the moment he stepped into the house. You were going to make your point that the house was not haunted and that it was just creepy since it had been abandoned for so long. 

You make your way up the stairs after finding nothing more to explore on the lower ground and the cracked steps creak even louder than the floor does as you carefully climb them. 

To your dismay, the last step broke under your foot with a loud crack and you let out a yelp as you throw yourself to the ground of the second floor; preventing yourself from falling through the wood. 

You look back at the broken wood with wide eyes only to see, not just one, but three of the steps broken through with the sound of wood hitting the ground below echoing throughout the house. 

You pick yourself up off the ground and curse Felix silently once again as you brush yourself off and pick up your phone off of the ground to continue your exploration. 

To your conclusion, the house was not haunted. It was just creepy. You enter one of the rooms that seemingly used to be a child’s room by the way the bed was small and yellowing paper of old drawing hung from the peeling walls. 

The window was shattered and vines were growing into the room, hanging from the ceiling where a chunk of the wood was missing, exposing the room to the sunlight. 

You put your phone away since most of the upper part of the house had holes and it allowed more light into the house compared to the lower half. Stepping into one of the other rooms, it looked like it probably belonged to one of the older people that lived there. A keyboard was sitting on the broken desk, the walls were holding broken picture frames and the floor had quite the hole in it. 

You avoided the hole and picked up the dusty keyboard, turning it on, you were surprised it was still working. You pressed on one of the keys and let out a scream, almost throwing the keyboard out of the window when you heard a voice speak up. 

“Don’t touch that.” You snapped your head to the doorway to see a man glaring at you. You pushed the keyboard off of your lap and quickly stood up, eyes wide with shock and your mind unable to form coherent words as you stared at him. 

You watched as he picked up the keyboard and placed it back on the table, grumbling something under his breath before he turned to you, “What are you doing? This house is haunted. I’m proof of it.” He snapped at you as he gestured to his translucent being. 

“You’re a ghost?” You questioned, but your voice came out smaller than you intended it to. He raised an eyebrow at you, 

“Is it not obvious?” His voice was laced with annoyance, “You can leave saying you saw a ghost.” He said as he waved his hand and turned around, his being disappearing.

“Hey, wait!” You called back, watching as he reappeared, leaning against the doorway and crossing his arms, 

“What?” He grumbled. 

“How long have you been here?” You asked, the initial feeling of fear fading away and quickly being replaced with curiosity for the ghost. 

“I can’t remember. But it’s been more than ten years.” He shrugged, “Why?” 

“Just curious.” You shrug as well, “I’ve never really found ghosts to be scary. Now that I’m standing in front of one, I’m still not exactly scared.” You scan his being. He didn’t look old at all. His brown hair was tousled and sitting right on his eyebrows, almost covering his beautifully brown eyes. 

“You’re not scared of me?” He asked, his eyes going wide. When you shake your head he took a step closer, “Then, can you help me?” The cold and harsh demeanor he had put up was melting quickly as urgency was starting to take its place in his features. 

“With what? Do I need to sell my soul or something?” You snort. He shook his head with a chuckle leaving his lips. 

“Nothing of that sort, I’m not a demon.” He smiled at you. “I’m Jinyoung.” He extended his hand towards you, which you eyed skeptically. 

“Wouldn’t my hand go through you?” You joke as you extend your hand, surprised when your hands meet with a warm touch rather than a cold one. “(Y/n).” You pull your hand away after shaking his, “So, what do I need to help you with?” You ask. 

“I can’t leave this house until I remember how I died.” He stated. Your eyes widened at his statement, a sense of sympathy washing over you. 

“You’ve been here more than ten years and that’s what’s keeping you here?” You asked. He nodded, clarifying the situation,

“If I find out how I died, I’ll be able to leave and get to the afterlife. If I don’t, I’ll be stuck here until I do.” He let out a sigh as he sat at the end of what you assumed used to be his bed. “Every time someone comes into the house, they run when they see me. That’s why I haven’t been able to leave.” He looked around the room before his eyes landed on you, “Since you aren’t scared of me, I might as well give it a shot, right?” He flashed a soft smile at you. 

“If I’m supposed to be figuring out how you died, I need to know your full name.” You stated. He bit his lip as he thought for a moment, 

“I can’t remember my full name.” He sighed out as he hung his head. You purse your lips as you stared at the wall in thought. 

“Oh!” You exclaimed as a light bulb lit up in your head, “This used to be your room, right?” You question, watching as he nodded. “Then there has to be something in here that holds your personal information.” 

“I can’t tell since I can’t actually touch any of my belongings.” He spoke as he stood up and made his way over to his desk. You let out a gasp when his translucent form went straight through the desk but confusion filled you as he knocked on the keyboard, “I can’t touch anything in this house other than walls, beds and my keyboard.” He moved back over to the bed and patted the dusty mattress. 

You watched as Jinyoung sat on the mattress, “That’s weird.” You muttered out as you moved over to his desk, careful not to step in the hole in the floor as you forced open one of the drawers. A cloud of dust blew out when the drawer flew out with the amount of force you used to pull it open and it flew right through Jinyoung, smashing into the wall. 

“Woah!” You both exclaimed in unison, watching the wood shatter and pile onto the mattress. Jinyoung turned to you with wide eyes before turning back to the mess of broken wood. You moved to the bed and carefully pushed through the pile before pulling out a small journal, “Do you remember this at all?” You asked as you brushed a spot beside him and sat down. 

“Vaguely, maybe it was a diary.” He shrugged as memories of him writing into the journal started to fill his head. You opened the journal, careful not to tear open the pages from how fragile the paper was. 

“They’re…” You trailed off as you carefully read the messy handwriting, “Lyrics.” You mutter out as you gently drag your hand across the edge of the page. 

“Lyrics?” Jinyoung asked with furrowed brows as he took a closer look at the pages, “I wrote these?” He muttered out as you held the journal in front of him since he couldn’t hold it himself. “Oh, I did.” He leaned back slightly in surprise when he saw his signature at the bottom of the page. 

“This was in 2017.” You pointed out when you saw the date at the bottom corner of the page. 

“Wow, that was a really long time ago.” He chuckled to himself, “But I don’t seem to remember why I wrote these.” He pursed his lips. 

“Do you remember any of your friends who are alive?” You asked him, a small bubble of hope filling your stomach that quickly popped when he shook his head. 

“I can’t remember their names. I wish I did. I remember being so close to them, I remember us living together.” He muttered out sadly. You felt your heart wrench. He had spent all these years alone and only now had he managed to find someone willing to help him. 

You watched as he hung his head, “I wonder whether they’re okay now. I wonder what they’re doing and whether they still think about me.” His words came out soft, his vulnerability showing through for the first time in years. 

“Hey,” You put a hand on his back, causing him to look up at you with sad eyes, “We’ll figure this out, okay? I’m not giving up on you until I can set you free.” You gave him a reassuring smile. He looked at your smile, his dead heart filling with admiration, 

“Thank you.”

»»————-　　————-««

“Does this look familiar?” You ask as you hold up an old picture that was sitting in one of his broken drawers. He’s standing beside a man that’s the same height as him, his hair is hidden under a black beanie and his muscular arm is slung over Jinyoung’s shoulder.

 He eyes the photo before nodding, “I remember being close with this guy.” He points to the man he’s standing with in the picture. 

“Any names popping up?” You questioned further. Over the past week or so you had been visiting the abandoned house to try and help Jinyoung figure out how he passed. So far, you have noticed that things that were familiar to him would bring back small bits of memory. 

Jinyoung bit his lip for a moment as he thought about it but sadly shook his head, “There’s a J somewhere in there, but other than that, there’s not a full name in there.” He let out a sigh. You purse your lips and rummage through the drawer, 

“We still haven’t been able to figure out your full name.” You mutter out as you pull out a set of music sheets, “But it seems that you were an idol.” You turn around and show him the messily written music tabs. 

“I guess I was.” He nodded as he looked at that notes. His eyes shone for a moment before he pointed to the top, “I wrote this with the same guy in that picture.” He let out a soft gasp and turned to the picture sitting beside him, “We were in the same… group.” He whispered softly as memories started to fill his head. “Yes, we were in a group with five other people.” He nodded as he turned back to you with a wide smile. 

“Progress!” You clapped excitedly. Relief bubbled in his stomach when he realised he was starting to remember more and more of his past life. Soon, he’ll be able to finally leave for the afterlife he had been restricted from for so many years. But, wait, why was he sad? 

He looked up at the way you were rummaging through more of his stuff, prying open drawers and pulling chests out from under his bed. Ah, you were making him sad. But why?

“Jinyoung, look,” Your voice brought him back to reality, making him turn to look at you where you were crouching beside him and pulling out a tiny box from deep under his bed. You opened the dusty, pink box and opened it up only to pull out a stuffed toy with a tag tied to it’s ribbon. “‘To my favourite hyung. Happy birthday, Junior hyung.’” You read out the tag and showed him the stuffed toy. 

“Oh, Yugyeom gave that to me on my 22nd birthday.” He stated proudly. Your eyes widened the moment the words left his mouth. “What?” He tilted his head in confusion before his lips parted in realisation, “Yugyeom… Who is that?” He furrowed his brows as he thought harder. 

“Maybe a member of the group you were in?” You suggested as you flipped the tag over, hoping that maybe his full name would be there. You weren’t surprised when it was just a nickname because who writes full names when they’re close and have nicknames? 

“I think he was.” Jinyoung nodded, looking at the stuffed toy, “He was the youngest.” He muttered out. You bit your lip as you watched the way he desperately wracked his brain in hopes of bringing in more memories. You looked back into the box and found a tiny dog tag sitting at the bottom of the box. You pulled out the metal necklace and held it in front of your face as you read the indented metal, 

“It’s a date.” You muttered out as you held it in front of Jinyoung’s face. He leaned closer and read the numbers before nodding, 

“That’s the date we debuted.” He muttered out as he continued to read the other numbers on the date, “Ah! It’s all of our birthdays!” He excitedly tried to reach out for the dog tag but his smile quickly dropped when his hand went straight through it. His heart shattered when he remembered why you were looking through his stuff in the first place and a tear rolled down his cheek. “Oh my god,” He choked out. 

“Jinyoung…” You whispered, your own heart cracking as you watched his lip tremble. He held his head in his hands, 

“Oh my god,” His voice came out strangled, his hands gripping his hair tightly as he started sobbing. You quickly put the dog tag down and pull him into your arms, his head resting on your shoulder as he grips you as though his life depended on it; ironic. “(Y/n), t-they must be h-h-hurting so much.” He sobbed out. You were slightly surprised when you could feel his tears starting to soak your sweater. 

You rubbed his back gently to soothe him while you yourself was on the verge of tears. The pain you had for this ghost was growing with every day that you spent with him. You wanted to set him free to end his pain. Funny how he probably thought whatever pain he had would’ve ended when he died but instead was left with this aftermath, waiting for the day someone could help release him.  

“Don’t worry,” You soothed, rocking him back and forth as he continued to cry on your shoulder, “We’ll find out what happened to you and we’ll set you free, okay?” You pulled away to cup his face, brushing away his tears with your thumb as you gave him a reassuring smile. He nodded, his bloodshot eyes looking deeply into yours, 

“T-Thank you, (Y/n).” He sniffled out as you pulled him down to lay on his bed, his head resting beside yours as you muttered out sweet nothings to calm him down. He continued to let out soft hiccups and sniffles as he finally managed to catch his breath. You let him rest with his head resting on your chest, your hands gently rubbing his back and running through his surprisingly soft hair. 

Your eyes fluttered open to see Jinyoung standing at the end of the bed cross-legged as he continued to stare at the dog tags. You peaked out of the window and your eyes widened when you saw the sun starting to rise. You quickly sat up, startling him in the process as you scrambled to check your phone only to see multiple miss calls from Felix. 

“Shit, my flatmate!” You groan out as you dial his number with Jinyoung watching. 

“(Y/n)!” Felix’s voice exclaims after a few rings, “Where the hell have you been?! I was just about to make a police report!” He scolded you. 

“Sorry, Lix, I was spending time with a friend of mine.” You apologised sheepishly with your eyes shut. You hear silence from his end. 

“Is it a guy?” He questioned after a bit. “If it is, next time you’re going to be with him, tell me so I don’t have a goddamn heart attack!” His tone raised once again. 

“Okay! I’m sorry! I might come home late today, though. But don’t have dinner without me unless I’m really late.” You told him, knowing he was rolling his eyes and nodding. 

“Fine, but you better come home tonight. I’m ordering jjajangmyeon and if you’re not home, I’m eating both portions.” He grumbled before hanging up. You sucked in a breath through your teeth. Felix only ordered jjajangmyeon when he was sad which is probably why he’s upset you didn’t come home the night before. 

“Is your flatmate okay?” Jinyoung asked when he saw you space out for a moment. You snapped back to reality and nodded at him, 

“I think he’s just worried. He’ll be fine.” You chuckled as you sat up and moved around the room to see if you could find anything useful. 

“You should go home, (Y/n).” Jinyoung’s statement made you turn around to look at him. “You haven’t eaten anything since you came to the house.” He reminded you. You purse your lips for a moment before shaking your head, 

“It’s okay, Jinyoung. I wanna help you and I don’t feel like wasting any time.” You muttered out as you moved back to the bed and opened your backpack, pulling out a bag of chips, “I brought snacks in case I got hungry.” You shrug, sighing when his expression turned more stern. 

“(Y/n),” He sighed out, “Promise me you’ll at least go home tonight and eat with your flatmate.” 

“Okay, I’ll go home tonight.” You sighed out, “But for now, I’m going to help find more information. If I can find your full name, I can google you since you seemed to have been part of an idol group.” You state as you proceed to rummaging through an old dresser. Your hands feel around the clothes before you feel the edge of a box and pull it out. 

You placed the box on the floor and sit in front of it as you open it. Your hands reached inside the crimped crepe paper that filled the box and pulled out a picture frame that seemed to be in perfect condition since it had been kept away from the outside world. 

“What is that?” Jinyoung questioned when he saw you lift the picture frame. You looked at the picture of Jinyoung and six other men - presumably his idol group - before flipping the picture to read what was written on the back. 

“Happy 6th anniversary, from ahgase.” You read out as you held the frame in front of him. “Who’s ahgase?” You asked, watching as he read the message. You flipped the frame to show him the picture, 

“This is my group.” He smiled, his excitement starting to build, “We called our fans ahgase, their full fandom name sounds like ahgase, so we made their logo a green bird because our colour was green.” He bit his lip as he smiled and looked at the picture of him and his friends. “I can’t remember their names, but we had a really good time while it lasted.” He smiled sadly and let out an exhale through his nostrils, “I hope they’re okay.” 

You sat beside him and placed your hand on his back, “At least now we know the name of your fandom. It’ll be easier to figure it out.” You smiled gently at him, a smile which he reciprocated. 

You pulled your phone out and started googling the fandom, quickly finding information on the group Jinyoung used to be apart of. 

“GOT7?” You turn to him with questioning eyes. He stared at you for a moment before recognition started to fill his eyes and he quickly nodded, 

“Yeah!” He exclaimed with a wide smile on his face, “GOT7! That’s the name of my group!” He moved closer to you to look at your phone. “That’s me.” He smiled as he pointed at himself in the group photo you were looking at. 

“Park Jinyoung? That’s your full name?” You asked as you looked at him. He nodded, 

“Yeah, Park Jinyoung. Is there anything on there talking about my death?” He asked as he continued to look at the picture of his group. You scrolled around for a while, your mind getting more and more confused as you did. 

“There’s nothing here describing your death.” You turned up to look at him with your brows furrowed. He looked at you in confusion, 

“Really?” He questioned. You shook your head and opened up the fifth article you were reading, 

“Park Jinyoung has passed away.” You read out loud, “There’s no date, there’s no description, there’s no information on how they found you.” You clarified as you opened two more articles. He looked back down at your phone before sitting back as he thought about it. “Do you remember anything?” He shook his head. “Is there anyway I can contact your friends? It doesn’t seem like they stayed active after you passed.” You mentioned as you continued to read of the aftermath of his passing. 

Jinyoung thought about it for a moment, “Jackson lives in Seoul.” He muttered out, “You have to take six stops from the station in Gangnam. Jamsil station. I can tell you the address before I forget again so write it down.” He turned to you, his eyes looking frantic. You nodded and quickly opened up your notes to write down the address of his friend. 

“Wait, why would you forget?” You ask after you finish writing down the address. Jinyoung took a deep breath as he leaned back on his arms and turned to the wall, 

“Everyday, I forget things. The longer I stay here, the more days I forget. I actually forgot what happened last night if you hadn’t stayed over.” He sighed out, “I would have forgotten who you were if you didn’t come back.” He turned to you, “I forget you everyday, but every time I see you, I remember everything. Then, I forget again when I fall asleep.” 

Your lips parted the more he spoke. “You forget me everyday?” You asked. He nodded sadly, 

“If you were to leave and just not come back, I would forget everything the moment the sun starts to rise. I wouldn’t even remember that you were helping me. I would forget everything. I would even forget all of these.” He gestured to the memories that held what was left of his past life, “But whenever I see them, I get happy and excited because it’s like looking back at memories, but then, I get sad again because I remember that I left them.” He looked away from you, teeth catching his bottom lip to stop it from trembling.

“I’ll be back in two days. Tomorrow I’ll go to your friend’s place and see if he will tell me anything.” You pulled his hand onto your lap and gently brushed over his knuckles, “I promise I’ll set you free.” You smiled at him. 

He turned to your hands before looking up at you, taking a deep breath, “I believe you.” He smiled. “I think somehow I’m falling in love with you.” He breathed out a chuckle as he looked down at your hands, his thumb gently brushing the skin of your palm. “I think I’m just lonely.” He joked. You watched the way his thumb glided across your skin, a warm feeling filling your heart. 

“Maybe.” You chuckled as well, tucking your hair behind your ear, “Maybe we’re both just lonely.” You breath out a chuckle as you lift your head to look at him. His eyes met yours and he lifted his head to cup your cheek, 

“Don’t be too sad when I’m gone.” He muttered out as his thumb ran along your cheekbone, “Unlike me, you’ll have to remember me. I don’t want you to be sad when I have to leave.” 

“I promise.” You nodded, raising your hand to hold his, “I’ll be left behind with happy memories. I’ll cherish them.” You smiled. 

»»————-　　————-««

You stood nervously in the hallway, your finger raising to press the doorbell before dropping for the third time as you stood outside of the address you took down from Jinyoung. What if this wasn’t Jackson’s apartment anymore? Or were you just hesitant to let Jinyoung go? 

Maybe you could convince him to stay a find a way to get him tied to your apartment instead. Wait, no, that’s a terrible idea and it would make Felix cry.

“He deserves to go.” You whisper to yourself as you raised your finger and pressed the doorbell. There was rustling from inside the apartment - and a loud thud that scared you for a moment - before the door swung open. It was not the Jackson Jinyoung was telling you about from the pictures you found. “Jackson?” You question hesitantly. 

The man shakes his head, “Who are you?” He asked as he crossed his arms and lean against the doorway, his eyes scanning you skeptically. 

“I used to be a friend of Jinyoung, but he disappeared after a while. I thought maybe I’d find him here.” You made up the excuse with Jinyoung the day before. He knew very well that if you just walked in asking about details of his passing, his friends would kick you out thinking you were a reporter or a sasaeng. 

The excuse worked as well as the two of you thought it would, the man who answered the door was more welcoming after hearing your reason and let you into the apartment, 

“Jackson! There’s a girl here for you!” He called out as he closed the door. You turned around to him, awkwardly standing by his side and turned to him only to see him gesturing his head in the direction of the living room/

“Who?” Another voice called back out as footsteps approached you. The man that you recognised immediately as Jackson looked at you in confusion, “Who are you?” He questioned. 

“I’m (Y/n). I was friends with Jinyoung a few years ago. Is he here?” You questioned. Wow, talk about a great actress; terrible situation but still. Jinyoung would praise you since he mentioned his acting career. 

“Uh, no, he’s not.” He shook his head, glancing up at the man behind you. “Jinyoung passed away ten years ago.” He muttered out. You feigned shock and looked at him with wide eyes, 

“What?” You questioned. 

“Did you really not know?” The man behind you asked. You turned to him and shook your head. 

“It makes sense. Even if she knew we were GOT7, there were barely any articles talking about it.” Jackson pointed out. “Uhh, come to the living room. We’ll tell you about it.” He nodded as he turned around and led you into the living room where another four men were climbing all over the couch and wrestling. 

“Guys, there’s a guest.” The man who opened the door cleared his throat, immediately catching his friends’ attention. The two that were wrestling immediately came apart and the other two that were sitting on the couch turned around to face you. 

“This is (Y/n). She used to know Jinyoung.” Jackson spoke up, “But she doesn’t know that Jinyoung passed.” The moment his words left his mouth, all their eyes widened as they turned their attention completely towards you. 

“Really?” One of them questioned, his hands immediately putting his controller away and turning his full attention to you. You shook your head. 

“None of the articles wrote about him because JYP asked them not to.” The one sitting next to him stated, “They didn’t even write how we found him.” He sighed out. 

“Sit down, we’ll tell you what happened.” Jackson gestured to the sofa chair sitting next at the edge of the coffee table. 

“Jaebeom hyung, maybe it’s time for that tea you keep trying to make us drink.” One of them suggested. You sat at the sofa chair and watched as the one who opened the door for you disappeared into the kitchen. Jackson took the spot on the couch closest to you after his two friends moved to make space, 

“This is Youngjae,” He gestured to the one who mentioned the articles, “He’s the one who found Jinyoung. That’s Mark hyung and the two psychos wrestling behind the couch are BamBam and Yugyeom.” He introduced you to all of them, each of them giving you a small wave. 

“We’re in our thirties and those two still act like they’re children.” Mark joked as he shot a glance at the two. Jaebeom returned to the living room with a tray holding a teapot and multiple mugs, 

“Aish, that’s enough. You still play games like a teenager, don’t scold them for acting like children.” He snorted as he poured you a mug. “What we’re about to tell you hasn’t ever been let out of our group. But you don’t seem like a reporter or a fan of any kind, so we trust you.” He sat on the armrest of the couch beside Jackson. 

Jackson turned to Youngjae, silently asking him to begin the story as Mark turned the TV off. Youngjae nodded at him and let out a sigh, “Jinyoung wasn’t gone when I got there. He was laying in the living room. I called an ambulance when I saw…” He trailed off, his eyes darting around the room anxiously. Mark rested his hand on Youngjae’s back to give him reassurance before he continued, “When I saw all the blood.”

Your heartbeat quickened at his words. There was a more sinister reasoning for Jinyoung’s passing, you already understood that from the tension that was starting to fill the room. 

“Was it a…” You trailed off, hoping they would understand what you implying but Yugyeom shook his head, 

“We know Jinyoung hyung. We know he wouldn’t… you know. At least not without any notes.” He pursed his lips as he turned to Youngjae, asking him to continue. 

“I went over to give him his keyboard. He didn’t answer when I knocked on the door, which was already open, so I went in.” He let out a strangled sigh. 

“He was taking care his younger cousin that weekend.” Mark continued for his friend who was progressively getting more and more distressed. “We don’t know what happened but she had killed him that night.” His eyes stared blankly at the coffee stable as he spoke, “All we know is that she had killed him, then she herself.”

“We asked JYP not to release any kind of information on it. We didn’t want Jinyoung to be remembered for that. We wanted him to be remembered as Park Jinyoung or Prince Jinyoung, the guy who was part of GOT7 and had amazing vocals and visuals.” Jaebeom sighed. You stared at them before you turned your attention to your hands, nervously picking the skin around your fingers, 

“Do you ever feel like he’s still here?” You asked. 

“We’d like to believe that he’s already passed on. We wouldn’t want him to be stuck here forever worrying about how we’d handle it.” Yugyeom piped in, “Jinyoung hyung always cared about us and he made sure we weren’t doing anything too stupid. I don’t want him to stay here if he can leave.” He chuckled softly. 

“What are you going to do now that you know?” Jackson asked you. 

“Was he buried in Seoul?” You questioned. 

“His parents buried him in Changwon.” Youngjae shook his head, “If you want to visit him, we’ll send you an address of where the cemetery is.” He offered with a small smile on his face. 

“Thank you.” You returned his smile sadly. You knew you were bound to visit his grave one day. Especially since you felt like he has connected with you more than anyone else which is funny since he’s a ghost. 

“How did you know him?” Jaebeom asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

“We used to talk every once in a while so I got worried. I asked one of our mutual friends and they led me here.” You shrugged. 

“Well, you did come to the right place.” Jackson let out a sigh, “But we can’t give you anything else other than how he died.”

“We could tell you what his favourite snacks are, but if all you wanted to know is what happened to him then, that’s all we can say.” BamBam nodded. 

“I think that’s all I needed to hear.” You let out a sigh as you realised that when tomorrow comes, you’d have to say goodbye to Jinyoung. “I know this is out of the blue but, if you wanted to say anything to him now, what would you?” You questioned when an idea popped into your head. “I can find a way to get this to him. I promise it won’t go anywhere.” You lifted your phone to suggest recording their messages.

The six of them exchanged glances before nodding, not really questioning what you meant by that. All of them agreed to just say what they wished for their late brother. 

“Jinyoung-ah,” Jaebeom began, “I bet you’re snickering at us for being so emotional over you but we can’t help it.” He chuckled. 

“Yeah, now that you’re gone, we don’t have a group mother anymore.” BamBam chuckled softly as well, “We miss you a lot, Jinyoung hyung.” 

“We’re talking to a phone right now, you know? You didn’t even visit us!” Yugyeom jokes, doing his best to keep his joke as lighthearted as possible, “I wish you did. I know I would probably have a heart attack, but I would love to see you again even if it’s just for one second.” His smile saddened as he turned away from you, his hand wiping his cheek. 

“Jinyoung-ah, I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier. If I did I might’ve been able to save you.” Youngjae’s voice came out soft and almost strangled, “If I knew what would’ve happened, I would’ve stayed over at your place and kept you company. Maybe I would’ve been able to stop your cousin.” He sighed out as he did his best to hold back his tears. 

Jaebeom moved over to crouch in front of Youngjae to pull him into a hug. “Jinyoung-ah,” Jackson called out sadly, “We miss you a lot. We couldn’t continue as GOT7 together. It’s either seven or none, but we learned to move on because we knew you wouldn’t want us to be sad. Every year on your birthday we light a candle for you.” A tear rolled down Jackson’s cheek as he took a deep breath, “You’re always with us, Park Jinyoung. Always.” 

You watched broken heartedly as they gathered together and hugged each other, tears escaping your eyes as you witnessed what was left of Jinyoung had to unwillingly leave behind. 

“I miss him so much.” Jackson’s voice came out muffled with his head resting on Jaebeom’s shoulder, 

“I know, Jackson. We all do.” He let out a shaky breath as he comforted his friends. You turned the recorder off and wiped your own tears,

“He was a really great guy.” You muttered out, unable to hold back your tears, “I just realised how much I miss him.” You breathed out a laugh, “I can’t believe I didn’t realise I’d miss him this much.” 

“I don’t think anyone realises how much you miss someone until they’re actually gone.” Jackson smiled through his bloodshot eyes as he wiped his tears with the back of his hand, “I really hope he’s happy now.” His eyes moved to the ground. 

“I’m sure he is.” 

»»————-　　————-««

“Thank you for this, (Y/n).” Jinyoung wiped his tear streaked cheeks with the back of his hand. You played the recording of his friends to him and he burst into tears. You held him as he cried, your own heart preparing itself for his departure. You still hadn’t told him how he died, wanting him to listen to what his friends wanted to tell him before he would leave. 

“Are you ready?” You asked. He nodded, 

“I’ve been ready for years.” He took a deep breath and waited for you to tell him.

“Your cousin killed you. It was a gunshot, you died shortly after Youngjae found you.” You laid the death down simply, wanting him to remember more of it on his own. His eyes trailed to the ground for a moment before he gasped and lifted his head, his eyes glowing pure white. 

“I-I remember,” He gasped out as his hands trailed up and rested on his chest. His body lifted off of the ground as he let out groans at the strange feeling starting to fill his ghostly body. “We got into a fight. She was upset I didn’t tell her Youngjae was coming over so she pulled out a gun she had stolen from my uncle and…” He trailed off as his eyes returned to normal and his feet returned to the ground, “She shot me in the chest three times before shooting herself in the head.” He murmured out, his eyes moving to look at you. 

“So, what’s going to happen now?” You asked after a moment, your breathing getting heavy as you dreaded the moment he would disappear. 

“I walk through the doorway and I never come back.” He stated, reaching out to hold your hand, “I can’t thank you enough for this, (Y/n). All I needed was for you to find out how I died but instead I gained your company and the ability to listen to my friends’ voices once again. Thank you.” He resisted the urge to kiss you, hold you, stay with you forever because once he would vanish, he would be gone forever. 

“I’m glad I stayed. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have met you.” You smiled, holding back your tears as you feared that it would cause him to stay. You squeezed his hand, “I’ll keep you by my heart forever, Park Jinyoung.” You shakily spoke out, earning a teary smile from him. He pulled his hand away from yours and turned around, taking another deep breath before he walked towards the doorway, 

“Goodbye, (Y/n) (Y/l/n).”

And he was gone.

[alitheamateur]

A Taste of Home

CHAPTER 2

Catch up on Chapter 1

(many hugs, and thank you's to @miidailyinspiration for the help on my face claim for Amelia. You’ve helped put my indecisive mind to rest, love!)

Casual, but not sloppy. Sophisticated, but not stuffy. This was no ordinary to-do, and you weren’t about to make light of the situation at hand.

To add to stresses of attire, your mother had found the whole thing to be so “cute,” and some twisted little cell of her excitement thought it a necessity to call his mother and cackle about the nostalgia of it all.

By some circumstances you were unsure of, your cell number had somehow fallen into his lap, and the day you were supposed to head towards to outskirts of the Boston tree line, he had texted you details.

C: Picking up a bottle of wine for tonight. Preference? You name it.

Y/N: How about a red?

C: Anything for the guest of honor. See you around 8!

Attached to his last reply, was a syrup sweet selfie that made you want to punch someone just to kill off some of the nauseating lovability, of he and the famous pup you’d seen often on his socials.

You didn’t know where to begin with preparation, nor exactly what to prepare for, and the day passed on like the speed of a changing season so your mental torture could lag on. A quick color and blow-out at the salon was never a wrong turn, and a trip to the mall couldn’t hurt matters.

Silencing your phone, and securing the doors of your car with two deeps, your knees wobbled like a feeble fawn towards the front steps. It was extravagant, but not in an “I’m better than you” type of way, and it’s woodsy endearment was the coziness your nerves needed.

Taking the steps one by one, hearing a dogs roaring bark behind the solid oak of his front door, a thought was conceived.

Was this… a booty call? Do people even know what that is anymore? Had you been invited to the quiet forest around his home, to glug too much wine, stroll down memory lane, and wind up on your back?

The more troubling conclusion, being you weren’t sure the idea sounded half bad….

There’d have to be some self-respect. Your shambling life left no room for any more error, and you wouldn’t fall into such handsome traps that easily.

Using the pane of glass that lined the entry as a reflection check, the door was pulled open, letting the interior nose of music and galloping steps of Dodger loose.

You cursed mentally when you stuck your hand inside the lining of your light jacket to feel the mint still wrapped that you had forgotten to chew on the drive over.

The handsome pups’ leash was held onto by an even more handsome man, and both of them seem quite eager to greet you. However, one more interested in sniffing around your shoes and backside.

“Woah, Dodge! Let’s mind our manners, boy.” His owner laughed with squinted eyes.

He met you with an unexpected, one arm embrace. His fingers snuck under the hem of your breezy springtime cardigan, and rested sprawled across the silk camisole covering the small of your back. Your cheeks brushed together at the ensuing of his gentle, platonic kiss to your face, and his beard felt softer than you would’ve imagined.

“Glad you could sneak away to hang out.”

“Thanks for the invitation. This place is stunning.” You barely recognized your own voice as it’s tone stuttered and dropped into some weird, sad excuse for seductive key.

Jealous at how effortlessly he could barely graze your skin and have you wanting to shout his name in an explicit context, you rustled your hair to swing its vanilla scented sweetness toward him, trying your own much more forced hand at seduction.

With smiling eyes, he gestured you through the front door, leading the way into the foyer. The simple brightness of its monochromatic scheme added an appealing cleanliness and homey feel. A grand piano was nestled near the fireplace, and a candle of spicy sweetness flickered on the white mantle as you heard Dodgers leash clang against a metal coat rack.

“Do you still play?” You asked running a finger over the glossy top of the black instrument positioned on a patterned rug.

His skinned turned red behind the protection of his grizzly beard, and he squeezed his palm to the back of his neck. The loose cotton of his shirt teased up his belly, gifting you with the sight of a meaty, perfectly exercised torso. Your eyes dilated with zealous desire at the way a trail of light hair trailed beneath the band of his relaxed blue jeans.

“I do, yeah. Badly, but I do. I don’t get as much practice as I’d like. Get me drunk enough & maybe I’ll play you something.”

Still the same old guy. The tortured musician with a home on the stage, and a healthy liking to beer.

“Speaking of, I’m heading to the kitchen for a drink. Glass of wine?” He walked in reverse down the hall, offering you up a beverage.

“Sounds perfect. It better not be the cheap shit either, Evans. I know how you operate.” You bit your tongue at the bold banter of your sarcasm. But, it wasn’t as if he didn’t know your true colors. He’d known you since school age, and if he was willing to still speak to your after your raging ugly-duckling stages of junior high, surely he could handle a witty tongue.

When he disappeared behind the wall of the kitchen and glasses clinked, and the cabinets slammed, you helped yourself to sight seeing around the empty den. Photos of he and castmates, his nephews and nieces school portraits, and some exquisite artwork decorated the walls, alongside the glorious steel shield you’d seen on the big screen. The life of riches, and fame hadn’t rotted through to who he really was yet it seemed, and you admired the simplicity of his private life.

“I’ll let you touch it for the right price,” he snuck in undetected from the left, long-stem swirling in one hand, and an already half-empty beer bottle in the other.

You eagerly grasped at the wine he had poured for you, desperately pining for something to center your weak knees from his closeness. Grazing across his full fingertips, your hormones began to dance.

“Excuse you?” For a brief moment, unsure of what exactly his cheeky comment suggested, you coughed in shock.

“The shield, Amelia. Don’t make me out to be an asshole here, kid.” Chris rolled his eyes with a faux grin, struggling to hide the slightest bit of insult from your insinuations.

Wait, kid? No, no, no. For one, 29, divorced, and your own insurance plan hardly classified you in the kid category. And the boobs. C’mon, Evans. Didn’t you see the boobs?

“However, I think the term kid need no longer apply…”

Did he hear your thoughts? Could he read minds now? He’s Captain America. Of course he could. Your thoughts heckled you.

Abruptly set on actual fire at the way his eyes painted over you like daggers memorizing your every curve, you choked up a dousing gulp of wine, and it dribbled down your rounded chin. He caught the beads of dark Merlot pooling at the corner of your lips with his thumb, then quite accidentally erotically, sucked the liquid from his finger with a pop of his half-smiling lips.

“Still as elegant as ever, I see.” Chris winked, and pulled an open-mouth sip of his sweating bottle of ale.

Bury your head in a hole full of poisonous scorpions, or plunge from a plane with no parachute? Both scenarios seemed like a fitting death for the embarrassment boiling throughout your pulsing veins.

“I resent that. I didn’t even trip up a single stair on the way in, thank you very much, sir.” Your hair toppled over your shoulder with your sassy, matter-of-fact head bob. The loose strand falling airily into your face.

“You’re so right. Seems little Mil is all grown up and coordinated now.” He reached for the lock of your hair in an instant, like he couldn’t resist its’ touch, and twirled it around his pointer finger only once, or twice before pushing it from your eyes.

The room went silent then, and spun with the drunken tension of unexplained passion. You wondered if this whole façade was some sort of sick way for his ego to get off, or had word gotten around to him about your less than happy fortune, and he pitied you, and old friend, in some way? Sure, you could put an outfit together in less then 5 minutes like nobody’s business, and you weren’t exactly a bore to be around. But you were such a… a simpleton compared to him in every sense. Often stringy, dull blonde hair no matter what “shine shampoo” you paid for. Your legs not even half the length of an average sized woman, and you were barely tall enough to reach the pedals of a car. A tiny, blonde, plain-faced woman with the occasional humorous comeback. Nowhere near the realm of anything he deserved.

He never broke his laser, blue-eyed stare with yours when he stretched blindly the empty his hand of the bottle, placing it to rest on top of the piano behind you. They color looping around his pupils was like your own lustful swimming pool where you wanted to float wearing nothing but a smile. The rounded point of your chest touched his when he leaned past you, and you prayed the thin lace of your unlined bra was just enough to hide the gentle bud of your breast. You were sure the news of the split with your husband was indeed knowledge to him, because he wasn’t the type to ever sink to the level of pursing a taken woman.

But, was this that? Was the closeness of his body, and his ruthless, studying stares his idea of pursuit? Or was your needy, wishful thinking playing tricks on you?

“I see the tan line on your finger, but the ring is missing?” You couldn’t make sense of his words as a question, or a statement.

“I’m sure you’ve heard more than I would have liked for you to, Chris…”

He gently squeezed at your teeny bicep, his head ghosting a nod just before you dropped to shamefully examine your feet.

“I did hear some stuff. But, it came directly from your moms mouth. Well, straight from your moms mouth, then my moms who she told.” He smiled to alleviate your stresses. “But, if you wanna talk, I’ll listen, Amelia.”

You wanted to. Oh, how curiously bad you wanted to. Something in the velvet ease of his voice willed you cry, and confess, and vent your broken hearts every desperate pain, and you had no idea why. He was a familiar face, but one from the past. You’d lived an entire life since the two of you had last seen the other, and yet something around his eyes hypnotized you to confide there like a terrified stow-away, running from the harshness your reality.

Just as your lips parted, and you’d carefully allowed only one tear to totter on the edge of your eyelid, the yelps of an observant dog startled you both. Dodger stood on his hind legs, peeping and panting as he stared out the open curtain of a bay window.

“Shit Dodger. Calm down boy, it’s fine.” Chris dropped his hold on you to settle the curious animal. “Everyone else is here. Late as usual.” He remarked.

“Everyone?”

“Yeah, some of the guys are coming to watch the game tonight. You’ll remember most of them. Their wives, too! When I saw you the other day, I knew I had to invite you out to visit with everybody since you’re back here now. Thought it would be cool for everyone to catch up, ya’ know?” The man casually explained as he strolled towards the entryway.

Stupid you. Always stupid, stupid you. Of course, this wasn’t a date. He didn’t want to date you. Not now, not ever. You fluffed your mess of curls, and paid for yet another outfit you didn’t need simply for nothing. But, the outfit was charged to a credit card in your wallet still under the name of your oh, so generous, soon-to-be ex-husband, who you were sure wouldn’t mind. So, that part wasn’t exactly a problem.

The signs had been all there though, right? The wine he’d asked you about. The sinful way he whispered and teased into your ear? It definitely seemed flirtatious in the most welcomed of manner. Or, maybe you just desperately wanted it to feel that way. Did your ego subconsciously create the boost it needed?

“Mills? Hey, you in there? Amelia?” He pleaded you from your daydreaming state as you swayed on your feet due to the thoughtful coma you were entranced in.

“There’s not a problem is there, sweetheart?”

“No, no. God, no! Not at all! It’s great, yeah. I’m excited to see them.” Your words wavered a little, battling the line of truth and lie.

It wouldn’t be so bad to see some familiar faces, and maybe rekindled some friendships now that you had waywardly returned. But, the scoop neckline of your slinky tank couldn’t hide the wave of blushing, blind disappointment climbing your chest. A result of how you felt about having to share him with others. As if he was yours to share.

People welcomed themselves in, some toting 6-packs, a brown sack marked with the logo of a bakery downtown that you knew created all things scrumptious, so you’d have to get into the good graces of the woman you didn’t recognize carrying it towards the kitchen. The faces had changed, but a handful of them still had those same smiles, or telling eyes from the past, and they appeared strangely excited to see you. Especially Tucker, someone closer to your age who had grown close to Chris through tap classes. The only other person on the planet who was informed on your most secret desires for the handsome Evans in question.

He nearly sprinted towards you, cradling your now squished, reddened cheeks in his hands. Your nose crinkled and eyes rolled with nothing but the truest joy at his fanatical greetings.

“Well, well. If our girl isn’t where all her little wet dreams from 15-years-ago unraveled, hm? Assuming you have been up to his bedroom already?” Tucker pinched your bottom playfully, murmuring into the hollow of your ear.

“Oh, give me some credit, Tuck! What kinda girl do you think I am?!!”

“One who has wanted a slice of that man since we were 13, Amelia. That’s who.”

God, he wasn’t wrong. He was the farthest left from anything resembling wrong, and it made the contents of your stomach swimming with the heavy red wine want to escape. You didn’t trust yourself to keep it together with Chris, and hold on to even the tiniest little remnant of your dignity. Your gut knew all he had to do was say the word, and you’d go skipping into his bed like most eager of beavers. But, God. You wanted him to say the word……

A/N: I hope you guys are enjoying. This one is a bit unnerving for me, and my readers are used to Hardy content. Your feedback is always welcomed with open arms! Again, let me know if you'd like to me added, or removed from the tag-list! xx

TAGS: @miidailyinspiration @eap1935 @mollybegger-blog

[jiminsjellybeans]

F O R B I D D E N - J I M I N / H Y D R I D X R E A D E R

*Credit to Gif Owner*

C H A P T E R 1

Rules are meant to be broken anyways....

It was nearly 12 in the morning, rain drummed on the window in a way that almost sounded like pellets being shot directly at the house. The thunder followed close by, its roar seemed to consume the small home with its deafening shrieks. The sky was stained a dark grey, it was almost ironic how much the weather complimented the scene within the house.

Sitting under the window was young Y/N, picking at her nails in concern. The words spoken by her parents were as sour as a carton of milk, left unattended to rot on its own. The stench of hatred surrounded the small home sending a reluctant shiver to dance down her spine. She was scared, she never heard her parents speak to each other like that, so loud, so unloving. The once role models to her future became nothing but scenes in a horror movie.

At this point she only wished their fighting was on T.V, so she could turn it off and not think twice about it. But this wasn't the case, doors slammed, re opened...and closed again. The stomping of their feet and banging on the walls made her wince, and made another tear pile on her pale cheek. She watched the light under her door as their angry shadows passed by.

All she wanted to hear was "I love you"...like it should've been. At times it would quiet down, giving her a warm feeling of hope that it was all over, but another slam and the carton of milk shook slightly, continuing to sit there...unattended and strengthening in smell. She thought to herself that no 10 year old should hear those words...The F word, The B word...The H word. The H word is the one she disliked most. Hate, There was not one positive thing or one positive use for this word, and she damned the person whoever made it. The word made her cringe and cover her ears...and throughout the night her hands never left them. The sound of her parent's voices became unbearable, slight betrayal hit her small heart as she got up. She quietly walked to her closet pulling out a small suitcase, putting toys and little knick-knacks safely inside. She held onto her favourite toy - Niko - who was drenched in her tears and closed her suitcase. Niko was an old desolate doll in which felt comfort around, it helped her sleep on lonely nights. She wiped the remaining tears from her face before continuing. The door creaked slightly as she pushed it slowly; she left the room unnoticed due to their deafening voices. She held back her tears with every bone in her body but gave up when salt reached her lip. Her hands trembled and her breaths were short, quietly gasping for a stream of air, only to cry it out again later. She reached the front of the house, wiping the tears that escaped, and headed for the door. Her mother's voice called for her with confusion. Quickly she reached for her raincoat before turning back to see the shadow of her parents rushing towards her. She pushed the door open and ran, grabbing her suitcase with her. The wheels of her suitcase hit the back of her heels as she ran. It dragged on the ground but she finally gained the strength to prop it on its right side.. Her feet were wet and covered in mud, feeling pebbles pinch her skin as she ran further. Something told her to turn back, but she focused on the dark obscurity around her. The harsh rain hit her fragile body, hitting off her raincoat. Its small pitter-patters eased her anger, she squinted trying to see through the fast coming raindrops that seemed to look like long streams of water instead of millions of drops. She stopped and looked around, hearing her own heart beat rapidly, but not from the running...she was lost. Fear made its way up her throat and gripped onto the tip on her tongue, allowing a whimper to leave her lips.

She regretted the idea of being a runaway, she wanted to be in her mother's arms and be read a story by her father...she wanted to go home. She tugged on her suitcase and continued to walk. Behind the rain was a flickering streetlight hiding behind a large tree. It was her only source of light, and frankly enough it gave her at least a direction to follow. The streetlight flickered once before it completely went out. All went dark again. Now again, she was hopeless. She kept walking, hearing the pebbles sink into the dirt beneath her feet. She pushed a few low branches that reached out to her from what seemed to be a jungle to her, and revealed an open area of her street. At least she knew she was still close to her house, but far enough to have time to think. She knew, a little girl like herself shouldn't be roaming around at night in a world full of dangerous souls, but at that moment she wasn't scared. In the open area there was a small crater in the middle where she could huddle and hide for a while. The little girl placed her suitcase on the wet ground and picked up a small flower. She began to pick the petals off one by one. She smiled as all the memories of her and her happy parents appeared with every petal removed. She closed her eyes and tilted her head up so the fresh rain would hit her skin. The sound of thunder made her jump; she opened her eyes seeing a streak of lightning flash across the sky. She always loved the rain, it helped ease her nerves, but what she disliked was what usually followed, the shrieks and lights that illuminated the sky. Her body tensed as another roar shook the ground. She picked up her suitcase once again and lightly threw it into the crater, where she planned on staying until the storm ended. A quiet 'oomph' came from a dark corner of the crater.  A small hand pushed her suitcase aside before moaning.

"What was that for?" A little boy groaned rubbing his head.

"I could've died"

She looked at him, taking a step back. The boy blew a strand of his black hair from his face and crossed his arms irritably. She continued to look at him in astonishment. His eyes were like of liquid honey. His gaze was soft rain on petals, the sky lightening after a storm, completely and utterly comfortable. He wore a bright red sweater that highlighted his eyes. From just his eyes, she could tell he was a hybrid of some sort. Throughout the years her town slowly rid of them so it was rare to see one, and frankly against the law to be near one. For a moment all she wanted to do was run from his sight, something which her parents strictly told her to do if she ever saw one. She was young, but not stupid, she knew fleeing would not go in her favour, he could easily grab her by her feet and drag her into the crater to her death.

His little black ears were pushed back in confusion.

"Don't you talk? ...Are you one of those mutes? Sign me something I learned stuff watching the others kids do it!" He said enthusiastically. He moved his hands showing her what he knew,

"That means grandpa...or maybe that was thank you?" He said furrowing his eyebrows, the small boy focused on the ground, thinking.

"Oh!" He said loudly, making the little girl jump. He raked his fingers through his drenched hair and it bounced back to the front of his face.

"It means thank you, see? I know my stuff" He smiled, getting up and walked towards her.

"I'm Jimin," He said extending his small hand; small scars were around his tiny fingers.

"Y/N." She said quietly, keeping her distance. Jimin looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"...So you aren't a mute? I wasted 5 minutes figuring that out" He sighed, turning on his heel and walked back to his spot.

"Shouldn't you be home, with your mommy?" He mocked. Y/N sent him a glare and folded her arms.

"I'm doing perfectly fine by myself thank you" she huffed,

"Alright jeez" He raised his arms in surrender, there was something about this boy that made her blood boil, but also feel comfortable. Jimin sat down cross-legged and picked at the ground.

"How old are you?" she asked sitting down on the floor, he moved his fingers giving her a smile. Confused, she gave him a look.

"It means 'I am 13' " He sighed; rolling his eyes and placed his hands on his knees.

"Sorry I don't speak finger language" she giggled watching his face mold in annoyance.

"It's called sign language...not finger language...and you don't speak it" He mumbled.

"How about you?" He propped himself on his knees,

"10."

"10? Wow" He got up and picked up her suitcase.

"Yeah? What about it?" she huffed back. He passed Y/N her suitcase and shrugged,

"Thought you would be older"

Silence filled the space between her and Jimin, the rain had stopped and only the droplets on the leaves fell. It slowly became awkward for her, feeling it suffocate her slowly.

"Hey!" Jimin said cheerfully, breaking the silence.

His hands were up again and his thumb went up.

"That's 10 in sign language!"

"Why do I need to know that?" she said uneasily.

"I dunno...you might need it someday" He said shrugging his shoulders.

"Oh really? Like when?" she said raising an eyebrow.

"You..." he started, pointing his finger at her,

"Have a lot of sass for a 10 year old...are you sure you're 10?"

"I'm sure" she replied with a small giggle.

"Alright well anyways, you might need it when...." He trailed off, thinking of a scenario.

"When you're gardening...and you need to pick 10 carrots because that's how much you love carrots...and the cashier lady is mute AND deaf so she points at the carrots and you need to tell her how many because she thinks you're stealing...THAT is when the thumb goes up and you can leave with your 10 carrots" He folded his arms proudly.

"Any objections or concerns about that scenario?"

"Well...you could also go to another cashier who I presume would be around and ask them to count them OR I can ask that said villager and ask them to tell the mute-deaf lady I have ten carrots or if worse comes to worse...instead of just putting up my thumb, I can put up all my fingers because that too, equals 10." she said with a smirk. His ears shot up in surprise.

He looked at her blankly.

"Alright smartass, don't come to me when that happens and you're stuck there with 0 carrots and an angry mob of employees following you."

"Fine" She said smiling.

"Why are you out here?" she asked him, Jimin smile faded and looked at the ground.

"I could ask you the same question" His voice became bleak and sad, she damned her curiosity knowing she shouldn't have asked.

"Parents" she sighed, crossing her legs and rested her head in her hands.

"People," Jimin added, sitting back down on the wet ground.

"They always call me a half-breed, I've never been accepted as human or part of this stupid ass town" He sighed, making drawings on the ground with his nail.

She stayed quiet, letting Jimin think to himself for a while, it was a hard topic so she let him have some privacy before speaking. The silence came back, but this time it wasn't awkward.

"I'm sorry" She whispered, shuffling closer to him.

"I really am." she placed her hand on his knee; he lifted his head and looked at her. she realized features she didn't see before, how his hair was a more of a dark chocolate than black, his eyes were sweet and innocent as they looked into hers. A small part of her found him adequately attractive but she pushed those thoughts away, she couldn't bare find him more attractive because she feared he would roam her mind and slowly drive her further into his eyes...the ones that swirled like melted chocolate. Finally noticing she was staring at him for too long, she pulled her hand away from his knee and shuffled back slightly.

She never felt the way she did when she looked into his eyes, her heart began to flutter and she began to feel nervous. She never once had a boyfriend, as it wasn't her main priority, she never had a crush or even the slightest liking to any boy in her class...but something about Jimin made her think otherwise.

"You know I'm here for you, right?" she said from a comfortable distance.

"We just met?" He said quietly.

"So? How do you think people become friends?".

"Friends?" Jimin propped himself up slightly, paying attention to what she was saying,

"Yeah, friends!"

"You wanna be friends with me?" He said curving his lips into a smile.

"Why not? We've been talking like friends" Jimin stood up and extended his hand again...just like when they met earlier.

"Friends?"

She smiled shaking his hand.

"Friends."

Her smile soon became a frown when she heard her parent's calls.

"Shoot it's my parents!" she said crouching down; Jimin placed his hand on her shoulder and called out.

"She's over here!"

She pushed him away and began panicking, her heart pounded as she picked up her suitcase.

"Why did you do that! I thought we were friends!" She said trying to run past him. He blocked her way and looked at her, instantly she looked to his eyes.

"I am your friend. And as a friend I only want the best for you" He said holding only her shoulders.

"Your parents love you, don't do this to them...talk to them and maybe things will get better. Trust me, don't lose the parents you have...consider yourself lucky that you have both" Jimin said with a small chuckle.

"Come here tomorrow after supper and we can hangout" He continued, still holding onto her shoulders.

"No promises, I'm probably going to be grounded" she giggled,

"Then I'll come everyday until I see you" Jimin said embracing her in a tight hug. He took her off guard but she finally hugged him back.

"See ya later, friend, and next time don't hit me with your suitcase, it's like you carry bricks or something." He said rolling his eyes.

"See ya, friend" she replied and with that she jogged to her parents hearing them sigh in relief, each embracing her in a hug. she turned back to where her and Jimin talked for what seemed like hours but saw no one there.

"Thank you, Jimin" she whispered to herself as she walked away from the park. With every step home she wondered if she was ever going to see her friend again.

-----

Let me know if you’d like me to continue. I hope you enjoyed :-3

xx

- V

[sailorportia]

Fictober Day Thirty: Do We Really Have To Do This Again?

Anime: Little Witch Academia

Pairing: Hannah England x Akko Kagari

“Do we really have to do this again?" Amanda groaned. "Those dorks should be makin' sweet, sweet love by now. What the hell went wrong?”

Amanda, Diana, and Barbara—aka "the Hanakko Rescue Squad—were having a strategy meeting under the Jennifer memorial tree. They needed somewhere they wouldn't be interrupted, so Diana had cajoled from the professors permission to close down the greenhouse by telling them a white lie about controlling some noxious spores. Diana taking a liberal approach to the truth implied Amanda was rubbing off on her.

"Jealousy," Diana answered. "Given what little I could gather from Akko, it seems that Hannah had an explosive reaction to... a comparison with myself." She crossed her arms guiltily.

"Hannah's also felt a little insecure living in Diana's shadow," Barbara said. "She's not the only girl who feels that way. Add that factor to how close you are with Akko, and combine that with a short temper and it's a recipe for disaster."

"Wait, so she hasn't picked up on Akko's totally obvious crush on her?" Amanda raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? The whole clingy thing and the drooling all over her wasn't a hint? And here I thought Hannah knew all the cards at play."

Barbara frowned. "She wasn't sure when I talked to her last, but I thought she might've clued in after Akko reciprocated the flirting. I mean, Akko 'jokingly' said she wanted to tug on her ponytail in a more than friendly way. There's oblivious, and then there's this."

"Insecurity can overpower even the surest of feelings," Diana said plainly, as if she weren't speaking from experience. "The remedy to this matter seems to be no more complex than sorting out these communications errors."

Amanda clapped her hands together. "Alrighty then, What's the plan? We ambush them after class and lay down the law?" Amanda talking about the law that way implied Diana was rubbing off on her.

"This requires delicacy," Barbara said, rubbing her hands together. "This case requires the oldest trick in the book: divide and conquer."

"Put me down, you lummox!" Akko yelled.

Amanda did as she was told. She plonked Akko down onto a chair she and Barbara had prepared in the dungeon storage room they'd spirited Akko away to. Before their quarry could escape, Barbara used a spell to restrain Akko to the chair.

"What's the big idea!?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Amanda. "Why the hell haven't you jumped Hannah's bones yet?"

"You really ought to," Barbara said. "That girl is frustrated as hell and she desperately needs a little release, you know."

"What are you talking about!?" Akko demanded, blushing furiously at the idea of giving Hannah a little release.

"We're talking about you two being crazy for each other," Amanda said. "Why haven't you professed your undying love for her yet?"

"Y-you must have me confused with someone else," Akko replied. "I'm not—I don't like her like that!"

"We know you like her in the physical sense," Barbara said. "You stare at her so much she must be burned into your retinas by now."

"I'm just... appreciating my friend's good looks!" Akko said knowing full well how flimsy that excuse was. I've done a little more than "appreciating" Hannah's body, she thought.

"Oh come on," Amanda said. "You smooched her all the way into next week. Did you do that as a friend too?"

"Wh-what's wrong with kissing a friend every once in a while?" That excuse was even flimsier.

"Oh no," Barbara said. "I know exactly what she means." She laughed like her mean old self again. "Hannah's a hell of a kisser isn't she? I can see why you'd want a taste of that again."

Akko's eyes bugged out of her head. "What are you—"

"Hannah and I used to practice kissing," Barbara said smugly. "And a bit more. A little best friends with benefits action. How do you think she got that good? Natural talent? Pfft."

Amanda did a double-take. Akko suddenly felt hot, her stomach acid bubbling, her heart racing. "Th-that's—I don't want to hear that!"

"Why not?" Barbara asked, egging Akko on with the bitchiest voice in her repertoire. "We're just having a little shop talk. Tell me, when you two made out, did she do that thing with her tongue?"

Akko rocked back and forth on the chair in frustration. "Amanda, cover my ears! I don't want to listen to this!"

"Why not?" Amanda asked, catching on to Barbara's ploy. "Does hearing about someone else kissing Hannah bother you for some reason?"

"Yes!" Akko yelped. Maybe if I admit it they'll make it stop, she thought.

"And why is that?" Barbara asked. "Tell the truth."

Oh, what does it matter. I just want her to stop talking. "Because I like her! I want to be the only one kissing Hannah!"

At last she admitted it. To herself. She had a big, damn crush on Hannah. That was the only explanation for everything she'd been feeling

Amanda and Barbara applauded. "Bangin' confession," Amanda said.

"Best interrogation I've participated in this month," Barbara agreed.

"You know, there's supposed to be a good cop too, right? Not two bad cops?" Akko gave up. "You're going to tell Hannah aren't you?" Her captors nodded. "You might as well leave me here to rot. Hannah hates me." 

"If Diana's on time, she should already know," Barbara said. "And I wouldn't be so sure about that. You've got a lot of "appreciating" in your future."

"Hey, Diana? Do you know where Barbara is?" Hannah asked. She looked around their dorm room and failed to find her best friend.

Diana stood up and approached her roommate. "I apologize in advance for my crass behaviour."

"What do you—OW!"

Diana yanked on Hannah's ear. "You positively oblivious girl. You're smarter than this, Hannah." She let go.

"Bloody hell, Diana," Hannah yelped, holding her ear tenderly. "I'm definitely smarting now!"

"You are dangerously close to ruining your chances with Akko," Diana said sternly. "I understand that you have some... underlying insecurities, but you can't let them rule you like this. I think you're vastly overestimating my importance to Akko—"

"Really?" Hannah said, doing her best not to get upset. "Isn't perfect Diana Cavendish more important to everyone than I am!? After all, I'm the one who screwed things up for her. She has way more faith in you. You know it's true! You're the one who told me I had to compete with you!"

Diana shook her head. "You were never supposed to replace me. My intention was for you to earn her trust and learn that you hold a different place in Akko's heart. One that I will never fill."

"Wh-what do you mean?" Is she suggesting...?

"You know what I mean," Diana said. "Akko has feelings for you. They've been developing for a while now. Atsuko Kagari has a crush on Hannah England."

"Th-that's not possible!" Hannah's mind was spinning. I wondered if maybe she did, but just hearing it like that is... How does Diana know!? Does everyone know!?

"Akko excels at the impossible, I've found," Diana said with a slight smirk. "And is it not equally impossible for Hannah England to have a crush on Atsuko Kagari?"

It certainly doesn't feel that unlikely to me, Hannah thought. "So... Akko likes me? The way I like her?"

"I should think so," Diana replied. "After all, the two of you have been insufferably flirtatious as of late. Amanda is of the opinion that the two of you should, and I quote: 'get a room.' And to be frank, I agree." She raised an eyebrow. "What do you think?"

"When you said we should get a room, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind," Hannah said.

"Hey, this is the coziest room in the dungeon!" Amanda said.

Diana coughed. "You're forgetting about the room adjoining the furnace."

"But that's our room, babe."

"I thought the torture session was over," Akko said, sorely wishing for earplugs.

Barbara grabbed Amanda and Diana by the elbows. "Wrap it up, lovebirds. These two can take it from here. And I've got a reading date with my own personal Belle." She dragged her co-conspirators from the room and closed the door behind them. Akko and Hannah were surprised not to hear the click of a lock.

"So," Akko said. "Any chance you could untie me?"

"No," Hannah answered. "I've got something to say, and it would help if you can't run away."

Akko squinted. "You're the one you stormed off last time we talked."

Hannah's conscience squirmed. "Fair enough." She pulled up a second chair that the Hanakko Rescue Squad had provided and sat down in front of her crush.

"I... I need to apologize for blowing up at you over Diana," Hannah said quietly. "I know she's an important friend to you. It's just that... sometimes being compared to Diana is more than I can handle. Especially when... when it comes from you."

"I can kind of relate to that," Akko said. "I kinda got jealous too. Over Barbara. That one time I ran off. And earlier... earlier today I got really riled up because Barbara and you... have a history."

"You know about that, huh?" Hannah bit her lip. I was hoping that would be swept under the rug.

"Yeah." Akko felt nervous, but she pressed on regardless. "I have a lot of special memories with Diana just like you have a lot of special memories with Barbara." Not similar memories, but experimenting with you bestie had to feel a lot like using legendary magic together at the edge of space.

"We have a few special memories too," Hannah ventured. She played a mental reel of their greatest hits: Akko using her lap as a pillow, their prank war with Amanda, their experiences with the play, their truth or dare kiss, their heated make out session...

Judging by the crimson rising in Akko's cheeks, Akko was watching the same reel.

"Maybe we could... make a few more," Hannah said hesitantly.

Akko's heart skipped a beat. Are Amanda and Barbara right? Could it be? "I..." Akko couldn't think of a clever transition to start talking about her feelings. So she didn't bother.

"I have a crush on you, Hannah."

Hannah was expecting a lot of things: an obfuscation, a rejection, anything but that.

"What a coincidence," she said. "Cuz... I have a crush on you too."

The two of them sat in stunned silence, unable to believe what had just happened. Their feelings were requited. It was difficult for them to fight off doubts. Maybe I misheard her. In the end, there was only one thing to do...

"So... what now?" Hannah asked.

Akko squirmed in her chair. "Untying me would be a good start."

Hannah gave it a moment of intense thought. "Okay, hear me out: what if I didn't?"

"Eh?"

Hannah stood up slowly. All it took was a single step to eliminate the distance between them. And then she lowered herself onto Akko's lap, straddling her and putting her arms around her crush's neck.

"H-Hannah!" Akko's brain stopped processing information. There's no way this is happening!

"Akko," Hannah said seductively. "How about we make another special memory right here, right now?"

All of Akko's neurons were firing but nothing was happening.

"What do you say, cutie pie?" Hannah asked, moving her hands to cup Akko's cheeks.

"I guess it couldn't hurt," Akko finally replied. "Okay but not to be picky, could you let your hair down first?"

Akko's request was uttered in a single breathless second, but Hannah managed to decipher it. She smiled with excitement. "Anything for you, Akko."

The second she had she ripped the ribbon from her hair, her mouth was on Akko's. This kiss was different from the others. Not the awkwardness of their first kiss, nor the impassioned, hungry kisses of their encounter in the closet. This kiss was loving and deliberate, intended to convey the full depth of their affection for each other. They savoured the moment with the full knowledge that they had all the time in the world for more.

Their lips parted and Hannah drew back to get a better view of her lover. She giggled as she played with the ends of Akko's hair, those odd asymmetrical bangs of hers that she found indescribably cute. Her hands trailed down Akko's chest, moving across her bust to outline her figure,  progressing downward to rest on her thighs.

"You're enjoying yourself," Akko noted. She was too, for the record.

"I've always been fond of teasing you," Hannah said, kissing the tip of Akko's nose while she loosened Akko's collar.

"I mean, I'm not complaining..." Akko caught Hannah's lips in another kiss. She resisted the urge to squirm as Hannah's hands explored the landscape of her uniform, finding her ticklish spots with tantalizing accuracy. It quickly became a game to see how long Akko could hold out against Hannah's teasing fingers.

Akko lost when Hannah brushed her fingers against her neck, just above her collarbone. She reeled back with a screech-laugh hybrid. "That's just unfair!"

"Since when have I ever played fair?" Hannah asked. "Or for that matter, when have you?"

"Don't tell me you're still bitter over the broom relay."

"How about you make it up to me?" Hannah kissed her again, kicking the intensity up a notch.

"Oh! That's the thing you do with your tongue!"

The longer they kissed, the greater the pressure in Akko grew. She was aching to return the favour to Hannah, to run her hands through that gorgeous auburn hair of hers, to learn all of Hannah's sensitive spots. Her kisses became urgent and demanding. She didn't leave Hannah any room for pause, overwhelming her until she broke off the kiss to marvel at Akko's change of pace.

"You've had your fun," Akko said breathlessly. "Can you please untie me now?"

Hannah smirked as she stroked Akko's hair. "Give me one good reason I should do that."

"Well, you can't get my shirt off if I'm still tied up."

"That, Atsuko Kagari, is a very good reason."

[ijustwant2write]

It All Comes Down To This-Kit Walker x Reader

(GIF credit to owner)

Masterlist

Summary: Kit and (Y/N) are finally free of Briarcliff Manor, living peacefully together. However, (Y/N) wants to start opening up to the world about the horrors that they faced (alongside their friend Lana) but Kit is firmly against it. It is very rare for them to argue and neither one of them know how to deal with it.

Characters: Kit Walker x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)= Your name

Warnings: Slight smut and swearing

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I tapped my pen against the notebook in frustration, trying to figure out how I was going to explain my story. How could I put all those years of torture sadness down onto paper? It seemed impossible though Lana seemed to be doing it. I had told her I wanted to express my story too, expose these ‘institutes’ for what they really were; hellholes. There were people in there who needed real, medical help, not the almighty healing powers of God.

Hours seemed to go by like minutes and I still didn’t have anything written down. Every time I started, I wouldn’t like the sentence and end up scribbling it out. Then I decided to bullet point what happened to me but that hurt even more. When I escaped, I had vowed to never even think about that place again, yet here I was. Deciding to just try again the next day, I settled onto the sofa, watching the tv to take my mind off old memories.

It just so happened that Lana was doing an interview. It was so strange to see her on the screen, though I had a sense of pride in me. We had all got out of Briarcliff, we were the survivors. I hoped that everyone who worked there was rotting away slowly and painfully.

“Hey! Anyone home?” Kit shouted out as he entered the door.

“I’m in the living room.” I called back, not taking my eyes off the tv.

He didn’t come in straight away, something I didn’t think twice about. I continued to listen intensely, noting down the way she talked about the past. Perhaps it would give some insight into how I could start my writing.

“What’s this?” Kit startled me as he suddenly appeared in the doorway, holding up my notebook.

My voice was quiet.“I…I just wanted to write it down-”

He looked angry.“We’ve talked about this! We’re passed that, we promised to never speak of it again.” Kit’s attention landed on the tv.“Lana is doing a great job of opening old wounds, we don’t need to help.”

I jumped up in anger, crossing my arms over my chest as I raised my voice.“Kit, I want to get our stories out there! There must be other places like Briarcliff around the world, we could help them!”

“We don’t need to share our stories, they’re buried six feet underground, just like that place.”

“No they’re not! You can’t just clear out your mind if bad things like a good ol’ spring clean! I wish that you could, I wish that everyday. You don’t think I detest the thought of waking up every morning because I’m afraid that this is all a dream and that I’m still in that place?! They say that letting out your feelings and thoughts help, through speaking or even writing.” I stopped rambling, taking in a deep breath.“Kit, you’re not the only one suffering, so stop acting like it!”

As I stormed past him, I made sure to bump into him, even though it made me slightly stumble. Slamming the bedroom door hard, I suddenly felt a rush of emotions. Kit and I were trying so hard not to fight, we didn’t need any of that. There were so many nights that we just laid awake together, unable to even close our eyes without flashbacks occurring. Nothing was ever going to be easy, this life was all too different from our ones before. I curled up into a ball, hugging one of the pillows closely to me. Why did any of those things happen to me? Who had it in for me?

“(Y/N)?” Kit knocked on the door before entering and sitting on the other side of the bed.“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have got angry. It’s just that we’ve talked about this already, we said we wouldn’t speak about it; and I know what you mean by letting out all of our feelings but I don’t want to deal with it just yet. I…I don’t know when I will but I know it’ll happen at some point. I don’t want to lose you again, I don’t want you to be swept up into all of this.”

I rolled over to face him, laying my hand over his.“Kit, I know where you’re coming from, but you have to let me deal with it in my own way. You’re scared, you’re terrified that it’s all going to happen again. It won’t. It’s over. We had to suffer though I somehow think it was worth it.”

Kit laid down beside me, both of us instinctively wrapping our arms around each other.“You’re the only good thing to come out of that place.”

I smiled, leaning on an elbow so I could see him.“Not the only thing. You escaped too.”

It seemed that we were staring at each other for a while before I finally leaned down to kiss him. It was slow, sensual, full of love; Kit was too perfect for me. I moved my body to lie on top of his, legs straddling his hips. I initiated the grinding though he immediately joined me, bucking his hips as he started to groan against my lips. As the amazing noise reached my ears, I found myself moaning, loving the fact that I was the one chasing his pleasure. Sitting up, I started to strip, trying to move quickly to get all of my clothes off. Standing above him, my feet still either side of his body, we never lost eye contact as I continued to remove my clothing. Kit than sat up, his hands running up my legs to my arse, his lips following suit.

“Kit.” I breathed out as his mouth got closer and closer to me.

“Shh.” his breath made me shiver.“You’re mine right? You’ll always be with me?”

I found my knees buckling as he spoke, I would have surely fallen if it weren’t for Kit holding me up.

“Answer me!” he snapped, slapping my ass suddenly.

I let out a cry of pleasure, waiting a second to answer.“Kit, I fucking love you. I’ll always belong to you.”

[masterofmunson]

Breathless (2)

Bucky x Reader

Summary: She's breathless, and not in a good way.

Word Count: 2.4k+

Warnings: pure angst. not much bucky in this part sorry fam

I'm in a dark isolated room. There's one small square window with thick metal bars in front of it and I can barely see a mountain in the distance. I'm cold and shaking, strapped down to a medical table. The leather belts binding my wrists and ankles to the table burn against my skin and tears prick at my eyes. I'm in pain. My body feels like it's fried.

I'm in rags for clothing. They're torn to shreds and covered in blood, sweat, and tears, all of which belong to me. The cloth sticks to me like glue and I want to tear it off, but it's the only thing protecting me from the Austrian winter that's just outside the window.

The room is filthy and smells like vomit and blood, which probably belong to me. I realize that in this moment, I want to die. I no longer cared that I had a home to get back to and a family to return to. I no longer cared that I had to be free with Bucky. I want to die.  

Bucky. My Bucky. He's probably in another cell receiving the same treatment I am. I wonder if he's thinking of me like I'm thinking of him.

I close my eyes, focusing on him, picturing him in my mind. His bright blue eyes. His strong jaw. His breathtaking smile. Him. Everything about him I was enamored by. I wanted all of him. I wanted to kiss him and cuddle him in the comfort of my dream home. Some place nice and safe and full of love. Somewhere Bucky was.

The cell door opens with a piercing scream and I open my eyes, slowly turning my head towards the door. My head pounds against my skull with loud thunderous thumps and my heart begins to beat wildly against my chest.

Bucky is thrown inside, slamming into the table I'm attached to. It shakes viciously but doesn't break apart. A broken groan fills the room and he rolls over on to his back as the door slams shut. I call his name softly and he moves to his knees until he's back up on his feet.

His eyes meet mine and in the moonlight, I see dried blood on the side of his face with nasty blue bruises littering his strong jaw. Tears filled my eyes, threatening to spill over. I murmur his name again and he forced a pain smile.

I'm shivering against the table and he whispers my name. His hands move quickly to remove the belts wrapped around my hands, when suddenly, his touch starts to sear my skin. I scream in agony, thrashing against the table. He's shouting, asking me what's wrong as tears fall down my face.

“My skin, Bucky! You're hurting me, stop!” I cried, shaking against the table. He croaked an apology, fumbling with the leather straps around my wrists as I screamed in pain.

Every time he touched me, the louder I screamed. It was as if he was an electric current with each brush of his fingers. I felt like I was being stabbed to death. I felt like I was burning alive. Every imaginable death seemed to be encompassed with his touch.

And then it stops.

I bolt up in my bed, clutching my chest. Screams rip past my throat and I'm shaking against the mattress. Sweat covers my face and tears slide down my cheeks. I'm struggling to breathe. It feels as if I'm weighted down with pounds of rocks planted in my chest.

My hands grip the sheets tightly and I'm breathing heavily. My eyes scan the darkness of my room. A broken whimper slips past my throat as my eyes land upon Bucky's.

“You were screamin’ really loud,” he muttered, turning on my bed side lamp. Tears continued to fall down my face and I breathed. “I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry.”

“I'm so-sorry,” I hiccuped through my tears. I wipe my face with the back of my hand, trying to breathe through my stuffy nose. “It was just a nightmare. You can go.”

“Y/n--”

“Thanks for checking in on me,” I cut him off, “I appreciate it. Please leave.”

He opens his mouth as if he wants to argue, but shuts it again. He's obviously thinking better of it. He knows not to argue with me, that much is clear.

He nodded silently before reaching over to shut my lamp light off. He stood up from his spot next to my bed. I see him turn his head towards me like he wants to say something, but doesn't. He leaves my room and the door shuts with a soft click.

I sigh, running my hand through my nightmare hair. My eyes are trained on the ceiling and I feel like a 50 pound dumbbell is resting on my chest.

Truth is, I wasn't happy that he came into my bedroom to check in on me while I was having a nightmare. I don't appreciate it and I wish it never happened.

He saw me at my weakest and most vulnerable point. I was asleep. I was having a nightmare, and it was of him. I hated it. I hated that he was still the focus of both my dreams and nightmares, when I wished that I never met him in the first place.

If it wasn't for him and his stupid feelings, I'd be dead, rotting in a HYDRA base that's long since been forgotten. I would be with most of my immediate family instead of having to watch my nieces and nephews from afar as they raised their own children’s children while I pretended to be dead. If it wasn't for him, I could've been saved 70 years of torture and manipulation.

I hated that I had gotten so close to him then. Maybe then, he wouldn't have grown to care for me, or love me, as he so claims. Maybe then, if we weren't so close, the Soldier could've been activated and he could've killed me. Maybe then I would've been his first successful mission as the Soldier instead of his first failed one.

I sighed, glancing at the clock on my night stand. It was just half past five. I had gotten a decent amount of sleep. I wouldn't be going back to bed anytime soon.

I wipe my face with the back of my hands before swinging my legs to the side of my bed, sitting up. I'm still shaking and it's hard for me to move from my bed to the bathroom. I manage to grab one of my towels and a clean outfit before shutting the door behind me.

I switch the bathroom light on and wince against the light before stripping out of my pajamas and stepping into the shower.

My movements are sluggish and exhausting as I wake up. The warm water washes away the knots in my skin and I relax against the tile walls. My breathing steadies and I stop shaking. I'm no longer in post nightmare shock.

After my shower and dressing in comfortable clothes, I slowly make my way towards the communal kitchen. It's around seven now, so everyone's either awake or starting to wake up.

I see Sam leaning against the counter talking to Bucky. He's holding a cup of his famous coffee that he so claims, and his eyes move towards me. I force a smile onto my face and walk towards him. He sets his coffee down and opens his arms. I step into his embrace and breathe him in.

I missed him. He's helped me a lot throughout the years that I've been here since Natasha found me. He helped me get help and I was grateful for that.

When he left with Steve and the rest of the team, I was hurt. I hated that everyone had to go through a stupid war to get what they wanted. I wanted no part of it. I wanted us all to be together, like Tony wanted, but I wasn't going to fight for something that half the team didn't want. I missed him. I missed Clint. I missed the whole team. Nothing's been the same since then.

“Do you know how much I missed you?” I muttered in his chest, feeling tears at the corners of my eyes. He squeezed my torso firmer than before, giving me a silent answer. I take a deep breath before stepping away from him. “I hate that my best friend is a fugitive. I hate it. It hasn't been the same since you guys left. I hate it.”

His face softens and he hands me my own cup of coffee. I take a generous sip and sigh after the liquid slides down my throat. I just realize that I missed his coffee brewing skills too. I muttered a quiet thank you before shifting my gaze to the counter.

Bucky's gone and I exhale a breath before sitting down. Sam and I each take generous sips of our coffee before he says anything else.

“Bucky told me what happened this morning,” he whispered, stealing a glance at me. “He just wants to help you, Y/n. He cares about you, loves you even.”

I look towards the window and a tear slides down my cheek. I hate how emotional I get whenever Bucky's mentioned. I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to be relieved that he's in good hands now. HYDRA no longer controls him. He doesn't have to worry about his trigger words anymore. He's pardoned from all the terrible crimes he was forced to commit in the name of HYDRA. He's better off now than he was a year ago.

“He doesn't love me,” I whispered quietly, playing with the hem of my shirt. I refused to believe it. No one can love me, not even Bucky. I'm a ghost of who I once was.

How can someone love me when I don't even know who me is? I'm someone new in place of the feeble, weak girl Bucky knew me as. I still struggle with who I was before all of this. Memories come back in flashes, but I still have a hard time remembering.

“How can you say that?” Sam asked, dumbfounded by my system.

“Because I can,” I practically snarled. “He doesn't love me. He loved the idea of me because I was the only companion he had. That's it. Even if he loves me like he claims, he loves the old me. I'm not that girl anymore, Sam.”

“Are any of us the same since joining this god forsaken team?” he argues.

“This god forsaken team is the only thing I have left! I can't be what he wants. I can't be what he needs.”

“That's not for you to decide! Bucky's gone his whole life not being able to make his own decisions. If he wants to be with you, that's up to him. You just have to decide if you want to be with him just as much as he wants to be with you.”

I huff out a breath, “What about you? Why didn't you tell him that we're--we’re--”

“Together?” he finished for me. I nod, swallowing hard.

He chuckles, brushing his fingers over my cheek. I swallow hard and meet his gaze. “I don't think telling Bucky that you're my girlfriend while he exclaims his love for you is the best idea.”

My eyes widen and my jaw drops. “He--he what?”

“Mhm. You crushed ‘em when you woke up from your nightmare. All he wanted to do was help.”

“Sam, I--”

“Y/n,” he cuts me off and we fall into a silence that's deafening. I play with my fingers. His finger pulls at my chin and tears prick at my eyes. He presses his mouth softly against mine. I whimpered against his mouth.

“Sam, please,” I pleaded quietly, trying to change his mind.

“It's okay. I'll be fine, Y/n. Bucky needs you more than I do and you know it. You and I both know we're better off as friends. You love him and that's okay.”

“But I want be with you. You make me happy,” I croaked, holding his face in my hands. Tears slide down my face.

His thumbs brush against my cheek and he pressed his mouth against mine. I cling to him and wrap my arms around his neck. My mouth moves slowly against his and my tears brush against his cheek and he pulls away. His fingers wipe my tears away.

“I make you happy, but you don't love me, at least not in the way I want you to. It's okay. I can't force you to feel something you don't. I understand, it's alright. It stings, but it'll pass. I'll be alright. Promise,” he smiles, brushing strands of hair behind my ear.

I laugh at him, shaking my head. I rest my hands on his shoulders and look at him through my tears. “No one deserves you, Samuel Wilson. No one deserves your kindness. Not even me.”

He shakes his head and pulls me in for what would be our final kiss. My fingers grab onto his shirt. He pulls away and rests his forehead against mine.

“On the contrary, Y/n, I think you do. All that and more,” he grins, pressing his lips to my temple. “I should go. I'll see you later.”

I nod silently, watching him leave the kitchen to his room. I collapse in my seat, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. I'm breathing hard and my chest is heavy.

My mind aches for Sam. He's safety and comfort and he's everything I should want. He's sweet and gentle and he makes me laugh. He's steady and strong. With him I don't have to worry.

My heart, however, longs for Bucky. He's adventure and danger all at once. He's strength and perseverance. He's power and resilience. He makes my skin shiver and heat up all at once. He's the man I see a future with. He's the man that I want to have a future with.

I want to kiss him. I want to hold him. I want him just as much as he wants me when he shouldn't.

He needs someone who's stable, who isn't plagued by demons or nightmares or anything else terrifying. He needs someone who can comfort him without needing anything in return. He needs someone who isn't me.

A sob rips through my chest and tears fall down my face. Not only had I lost Bucky, I had lost Sam too.

YEAAAA SO HER & SAM WERE A THING!!! they're not very happy bc i like making people unhappy ;))) let's see what happens next ;)))

PERMANENT TAGS: @jessevans @fuckmewintertucker @ria132love @anastasiaannaa @bubblyaschampagne @kindnesswins @queen-valeskaxx @lilasiannerd @sammnipple @blueeyedboobear @mcuimxgine @marvel-fanfiction @blueskies-love @super-soldier-wifey @broken-pieces @xxchexchickxx @castawayreject @iamwarrenspeace @melconnor2007 @ssweet-empowerment

BREATHLESS TAGS: @learisa @buckyappreciationsociety

[thewalkingdeadimaginings]

A Reason to Stay

Could I please request a scenario in which the reader (shortly after the deaths of Glenn and Abe), attempts to locate Carol and Morgan. Eventually they stumble upon Kingdom Knights, who reunite her with mentioned (where reader updates them on group situation). + Mutual attraction between reader & Ezekiel. Sorry for the complicated-ness. 😅❤️

Never had an Ezekiel request before this is gonna be fun! I’ve been away for a while, not writing at all despite the fact that I have requests that are almost a year old and I still feel awful about letting them sit so long. I just took on a lot so to those of you who have recently sent requests, please be patient as I’m a bit backed up. I didn’t realize how many I had until I actually looked at the list I have written down. But it was nice to take a little break from my computer. But I’m back and ready to get back to work.

It must’ve been a nightmare. It had to have been. The sound of the wooden bat crashing against your friend’s skull, the smell of blood thick in the air, the bits of flesh that hung off the barbed wire after all was said and done, the cries from your other friends trapped in the horror as much as you were. You hadn’t just watched Abraham and Glenn get beaten into the dirt, had you? You kept closing your eyes during the ordeal, praying that you’d open your eyes and be back in your own bed and they’d be downstairs to greet you along with the rest of the group.

But it was just too much to hope for because every time you opened your eyes, you were still here. After it was over and Negan left with his men (and with Daryl as his prisoner) Sasha took Maggie and the bodies of Glenn and Abraham while the rest of you headed back to Alexandria. On top of all this, Carol was still missing and Morgan had gone missing looking for her. No one had really thought to go after them with everything happening now but you definitely needed a distraction.

“Y/N, are you sure this is a good idea?” Rick asked, watching you with worry as you packed some supplies for the trip, “He might notice you’re gone when he shows up here.”

“Doubt it,” you replied, “Too many people here for him to notice one person missing. And if he does, you can just tell him I went out on a run. But I’ve gotta find Carol and Morgan. Who knows where they’ve ended up and I’ve gotta get the hell outta here.”

“Negan might’ve taken them,” Rick argued, “Haven’t you ever considered that?”

“Well, I won’t know unless I go find out,” you shot back, “If I find them, I’ll come back here and let you know. I don’t think I wanna throw them into this mess. At least not right now. The farther they are from the situation right now, the better. I wish I could be away from this too.”

“I know,” Rick mumbled, reaching out and touching your shoulder, “Just be careful, okay? Negan’s people are probably gonna be hanging around here a lot more now. Not to mention the walkers.”

You nodded, “I’ll be safe. If I run into trouble, I’ll just turn back, try another day. But I should be alright.”

Rick showed you on a map where he and Morgan had gone together and where they’d split off. You had a general idea of where Morgan would’ve gone but there was still a large area to cover. But being away from Alexandria allowed you to momentarily forget what was now happening. You just wished that things could go back to the way they used to be when the only threat they had to deal with were walkers.

You reached an alley where you found a man’s corpse being devoured by walkers. You quickly stabbed the walkers in their temples while they were distracted by their meal, tossing them aside to get a look at the man. He had a gun in his hand with the same symbol that had been on another gun the group had back in Alexandria. This man had been a part of the saviors. A dirty, brown jacket with one sleeve tattered and burnt had been left behind with a bloody hole in the sleeve. Wasn’t this Carol’s jacket? Carol must’ve been here and must’ve killed this man, most likely in a scuffle.

Carol was close by, she had to be. And Morgan might be with her. You continued on, walking a little faster. This mission had merely been an excuse to get away from the madness for a little while. You still made use of your time and searched for Carol and Morgan like you said you would but you never actually expected to find any traces of them. But in any case, you were happy that there was.

After another few minutes of walking, crossing through an abandoned street full of shops that had been drained of resources and left to rot with the rest of the world. At the very end of the street was a large fence guarded by two people standing on top of the fence and two people standing in front of the gate, much like the set-up back home.

“Stop right there!” one of the guards shouted. They all raised their guns at you, glaring at you, “Who are you and what do you want?”

“I’m Y/N,” you replied, tucking your gun back into its holster and raising your hands, “I was just looking for my friends and I came across this place. Maybe they came here. Carol and Morgan, did they come here?”

The expression on all four of their faces softened as they lowered their weapons, “Yes, yes they did come here. Carol was injured and they were found and taken here. Come inside, you should meet with the king.”

“Carol’s hurt?” you said as you hurried towards the gate. It creaked open and you paused mid-step. It brought back memories of the governor and anyone who gave them titles like that couldn’t be trusted, “Wait, did you say king? Is this like the medieval times or something?”

This “kingdom” was like any other community, very similar to Alexandria. Everyone looked well fed, clean, and happy. There were children being given lessons in a gazebo while others were training in archery and cooking and cleaning. Everything seemed so serene here but then again, so had Woodbury, so had Terminus. You weren’t going to trust this king that easily, especially if Carol and Morgan were here.

You were led into an auditorium and left alone with a man sitting in a throne on a lit up stage with a few others standing behind him. He was lounging comfortably, one knee bent on the throne, his arm resting on his knee. But it was the massive tiger he had on a chain lying next to him that shocked you.

“A fucking tiger,” you whispered. The man in the throne was intriguing however. Seeing him sit so casually made you feel more at ease and his brown eyes were warm. He smiled and beckoned you closer to the stage. You took a step forward but then the tiger lifted its head and you stopped again, “Uh, I think I’d be better off here.”

“Shiva?” the man said, “She won’t bite. Come closer. I’ve been told that you are looking for your friends.”

“Yes,” you said. You cautiously walked down the aisle, stopping at the first row of seats, “Carol. And Morgan. Someone told me that she was injured. Is she okay? And Morgan, is he okay too?”

“They’re both doing well,” he said, “Carol’s recovering and Morgan has come to enjoy it here. He’s been training Benjamin here for the past few days. My name is King Ezekiel, what is your name?”

Ezekiel had a flair for the dramatic that’s for sure. But it was somewhat calming. He seemed nice enough. You smiled as you replied, “My name is Y/N.”

“Y/N,” Ezekiel mumbled with a grin, “Welcome to the kingdom.”

Soon after meeting Ezekiel, Benjamin took you outside where Morgan was most likely training with his staff. Benjamin smiled proudly when he saw Morgan and he called out to him, “Morgan! You have a visitor! She says she’s your friend.”

Morgan turned and he gasped at the sight of you, “Y/N. How’d you know where we were?”

You reached out and hugged him for a moment, “Rick told me where the two of you split off and I just kinda followed the trail until I ended up here. I never actually thought I’d find you and Carol. How is she?”

“She’s doing better,” Morgan replied, “She left this morning, gonna separate herself from everything for a while.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” you murmured, “Although…it would probably be the smartest thing to do right now.”

“Why’s that?” Morgan asked.

“We should talk somewhere more private,” you said. Morgan was nervous now, knowing this couldn’t be good. The two of you sat down together on a park bench, Morgan leaning his staff against it. You rubbed your sweaty palms up and down your thighs, taking a deep breath, “There’s no real easy way to say this. We ran into this group, the saviors. And um, the leader, Negan…he…he killed two of ours. He killed um…Glenn and-and Abraham.”

“Oh my god,” Morgan mumbled, hanging his head, “I can’t believe that.”

“Now it’s like Negan owns us,” you continued, “I had to get away for a little while so I decided to go looking for you and Carol. I guess now that I have, I should get back home and let Rick know that you’re here.”

“You don’t have to go right away,” Morgan said, “You should stay for at least another day or two, then go back. You wanted to get away, didn’t you?”

You turned to look at the children leaving the gazebos, your eyes wandering up to see Ezekiel standing on the balcony watching the two of you. It might not be a bad idea to stick around for a few days. You had to admit that you were curious about Ezekiel. He seemed so open but there was a mystery surrounding him too.

Morgan and Benjamin helped set you up in your room for the next few days. The quiet would be nice. It would allow you to actually process what had happened, what you’d seen. It felt like no one had been given a chance to do that. You all just went back home and had to prepare for the next time Negan would inevitably visit. If you were lucky, you would still be here in the kingdom when he went to see the others in Alexandria.

You went back outside after everyone had already gone to sleep, sitting at the same park bench you and Morgan had just been sitting at earlier that afternoon. You weren’t sure what you wanted to do. Cry, scream, throw a fit, or just sleep. All you could do for now was just sit there in silence, staring at the balcony where Ezekiel had been standing. You kind of hoped he would come out just so you’d have someone to talk to.

“You’re out late tonight aren’t you?” The sudden break in silence startled you and you jumped, a gasp escaping your lips. You whipped around in your seat to find Ezekiel standing there. He chuckled as he approached the bench, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s alright,” you said, “Guess I’m not the only night owl around here. You can sit down if you want.”

Ezekiel nodded and took a seat beside you, sitting as close as he could to the edge, leaving some space between you, “So, you’re from Alexandria too. You and Morgan and Carol must be close friends if you came all that way to find them.”

You shrugged, “I mean, they’re my family just like the others back in Alexandria but I’ve gotta be honest, I just needed some time away. I’ll probably head back in the next day or two.”

“Or you could just stay here in the kingdom with me…us,” Ezekiel said, quick to cover himself, “You said you need some time away from everything, right? This is the perfect place to get away from everything.”

“Guess you’ve got a point,” you said, “Maybe…staying here with you wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

“Maybe tomorrow, I could show you around,” Ezekiel said, “Give you the grand tour of the kingdom.”

“I’d like that,” you mumbled, “King Ezekiel.”

Ezekiel smiled, scooting a little closer to you. He reached out and touched your shoulder and it was electric. You could feel it in his touch and you could tell he felt it too when he tightened his grip on your shoulder slightly, his brown eyes widening just a bit. There was a connection there to be explored. Maybe you were wrong, maybe you were just in need of human contact after everything that had happened. Or maybe you had the chance to have something good in the midst of all this mess. Ezekiel was kind, something that you weren’t used to these days.

“I…I should get to my room,” you said, though neither of you moved, “I can’t wait for that tour tomorrow, Ezekiel.”

“Right,” he said, giving your shoulder one last squeeze before standing up. He took your hand and helped you up onto your feet, “You get your rest, Y/N. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yeah,” you said, squeezing his hand, “I’ll see you.”

Ezekiel gave you a nod and he walked away, leaving you with even more to think about. At least this was something that lifted your spirits rather than dragged you down. At least you had a reason to stay. You had to know if this was something that you wanted to pursue, that would be worth something.

You would find out tomorrow, wouldn’t you?

Thanks for reading, loves! <3

[artificialqueens]

: Sinning Never Felt So Good (Pearlet) : Chapter 3 : katyasbingowings

A/N: hope you enjoy!!

The canteen being empty merely exaggerated its truly colossal size, with it’s only inhabitants being two dinners ladies chatting away, and Matt, who had awoke for breakfast at the earliest possible hour to avoid any unnecessary interactions with his succubus of a roommate. Matt had hardly achieved a wink of sleep after last night’s events, so his generous cup of coffee was defiantly deserved, the warm beverage acting as his sole life force. His seven pancakes, however, were not justified.

“I am going to be fat like the Americans soon enough,” Matt shot his head up, immediately recognising the bizarre Russian, whose exaggerated red lips most likely broke some rule, though Matt wasn’t going to rain on the cheerful woman’s parade.

“Morning, I didn’t expect anybody to be up this early,” Matt admitted - voice tired and gruff - wondering how Katya managed to maintain such energetic facade at this unholy hour, while Matt was prepared to peel over any moment.

“In Russia we wake when the suns does too,” Katya explained, accent thick and mouth full of toast, “I did try to wake Adoor, she called me a rotted cunt and punched me in the vagina, so I let her sleep for some more moments.” The interaction didn’t phase Matt, already expecting such oddity, despite knowing the pair for a mere 24 hours. He simply shook his head and began his fifth pancake, not remotely ashamed of his appetite. “Do you want some concealer for your eyes, Matthew, it will make them look less dead”

“No thank you Katya, I’ll be fine,” Matt smiled, not bothering to correct her on his name, knowing it wouldn’t stick in the long run. He monetarily considered the kind-hearted offer, knowing perfectly well that the sizeable bags under his eyes were not attractive in the slightest, before denying politely. Matt once covered his face in his mother’s makeup and he’d never seen his father so enraged, that memory put him off decorating himself with the products completely.

After brief small talk between the two, the canteen soon filled with exhausted students all craving nourishment, one even fell asleep in a bowl of cereal, which Matt seemed to relate to on a personal level. Adore eventually joined them, much more miserable than the previous twosome combined, face clean of her usual exotic makeup and hair unruly. “I actually want to commit. No joke. I’m gonna stab myself with a fork.” Good morning to you too.

“If you do Adoor we cannot have fun with the alcohol on Friday,” Katya quipped, brushing her fingers though the other’s mane in attempt to calm the relentless tangles.

“I’m pretending I didn’t hear that,” Matt stated, not particularly agreeing with the blatant rule breaking, though not wanting to lose his only companions by ruining their form of enjoyment either.

“Matthew you should join us! We made friends with a curly haired boy who had vodka bigger than my head, we are meeting to have fun times when the week comes to an end,” Katya babbled madly, acting out the scenario with exaggerated hand gestures. Adore - face down and lifeless on the table - sounded a grunt of agreement.

“I don’t know,” the boy began, though not a virgin to alcohol (even the most uptight Christians had fun sometimes, okay), was unsure of the whole situation, “I wouldn’t want to be intruding, or to get caught…”

“It’ll be who you know, plus curly and friend, I’ll personally get you a juice box if it’ll make you more comfortable, and take any blame for your delinquency,” Adore piped up, looking up for the first time since joining the table, gently grinning in attempt to sway the sheepish individual.

Matt was prepared to argue his case to the bitter end, before he saw Jason tiredly shuffling towards the table, “yeah, sure, whatever,” Matt rushed without a second thought, not even thinking over what he had agreed too. He stood up and planned his grand escape, “I’m gonna go pee,” he excused himself weakly, speed walking like his life depended on it as Jason took a seat.

“Matt is joining us Friday, isn’t that spectacular!” Katya squealed, squeezing Jason’s hand in a friendly nature, offering the boy a slice of buttered bread.

“That’ll be interesting,” Jason smirked, taking a sizeable bite and watching Matt leave in a rush. How very interesting indeed.

***

“Do these arms look like they do push-ups?” Jason quipped, greatly irritated by the mere concept of PE, especially offended by the physical trials he was being forced into. At his old school Jason’s teachers had learnt that even attempting to convince him to partake was useless, though the message didn’t seem to be getting across as easily as in the past. He sighed overly dramatically, falling to the floor in the most ungraceful way, completed a single push up, before returning to his previous position: sitting in the corner of the room doing absolutely nothing. This was not his gig.

The rest of his classmates were filing in, Jason recognising a few he had briefly passed in the corridors, all while waiting for the one and only Matt, who he knew he shared the lesson with after their discussion yesterday. And Jason was not disappointed when Matt arrived, not at all. Unaware of the fact he was being watched, the brunette sauntered into the gymnasium, shorts clinging complimentary to his plump arse, and vest demonstrating his toned, tan skin. Jason absentmindedly licked his lips, unapologetically checking the fellow boy out from head to toe.

Now Matt was completely oblivious - not realising him stretching caused V-lines to show, having no idea that squats just exaggerated the perfect way his rear end was formed, or that being painted in beads of sweat was borderline erotic. Jason remained shell shocked, never realising Catholic school would be the most homoerotic experience of his entire existence, throughly pleased with the spectacular occurring before his very own eyes. The oblivious Matt continued to take a sizeable gulp of water, a few droplets missing his mouth and dripping artistically down his chilled jaw, leaving Jason’s mouth agape. This is pornographic.

Snapping out of his lustful trance, Jason wolf-whistled loudly at his roommate, causing Matt’s attention to shift to the boy lingering at the sidelines. Matt was thankful for his current hot and sweaty state, as it disguised the prominent blush creeping up his neck and coating his cheeks. “Looking good there Lent!” Matt didn’t know how Jason knew his surname, and he wasn’t going to ask, so he shot the boy a lopsided smile and continued his workout, stationing himself as far away from the other boy as possible.

Jason caught wind of what Matt was hoping to accomplish by relocating further away: to be rid of him, and Jason refused to be brushed off that easily. “Couldn’t even spare me a hello? This after running off this morning? Unacceptable. I thought you were some God sent Christian or something,” Jason mocked, taking a seat in front of Matt. When Matt came up for his first sit-up, he caught Jason’s eyes briefly, pupil’s dilated, before returning to the floor. Breathe, Matt, breathe.

“I told my friend I’d meet him,” Matt spurted out, regretting his words the moment they left his mouth; he had never been a good liar.

“No you didn’t,” Jason called Matt’s bluff, staring at him blankly, “you don’t have any friends.”

“Y-yes I do,” he stuttered, shocked at the blunt tone he was spoken to in, and the fact that his fabrication was shattered immediately.

“What’s his name?”

“I can’t remember.”

“You don’t remember?”

“Nope, I also don’t remember how many sit ups I’ve done, you see! I’m not good at remembering things!”

“23,” Jason revealed, “anyway, me, Kat and Adore are going for a smoke at lunch, and I know you don’t like that kind of stuff, so you’ll be cool to hang out with your friend?”

If Matt disagreed, his bluff would be busted, and he was too far down the rabbit hole to admit defeat. “Yeah, yeah, absolutely fine, I’ll sit with him, have fun,” Matt rushed, now not only a liar, but a lonely liar.

“I just wouldn’t want you to be alone, that’s all.” Jason smiled, sincerely, before wandering away. Matt’s heart was beating erratically, a sensation he had not experienced before, and one which he could not logically explain.

***

“I never thought I’d love Monday mornings, but his butt might have changed that,” Jason admitted, casually perched on the floor and exhaling a cloud of smoke. The group had discovered a reserved location behind the greenhouse to hide while performing any of many generic teenage activity, the area completely hidden away from the main building: a perfect location for escape.

“Well I have this real cute maths teacher, he’s called Roy and has the most adorable dimples,” Adore gushed, “and - of freaking course - I came in late, looking like shit, so my plan on seducing myself to an A is not off to a good start.”

“Men think through their dick, I can assure you that it won’t be difficult,” Jason spoke, passing the cigarette to the celestial being he called a friend, allowing her to take a drag and relax. Katya had decided not to join them, instead tagging along with one of her classmates - it was either Tracy or Trissy, Jason couldn’t quite remember - to ‘save her from the nasty disease of the lungs’.

Adore was happily chatting away, though failing to distract the fair-skinned boy, as Jason’s mind wandered to Matt. He was undyingly curious to what sort of friend Matt had made, probably another God worshiping goody-two-shoes, someone Matt would get on with far better than himself. Jason let out an irritated huff, not understanding why he was growing so sensitive over such a simple event, he himself had even insisted that the other spend time with his new companion over lunch, and now he was wishing he hadn’t.

“I don’t know why I get so worked up over him, he’s just another bloody boy,” Jason eventually burst out, knowing Adore of people wouldn’t judge him, and he really wouldn’t mind some words of wisdom round about now.

“It’s cause you like him, duh,” she’s breathed out, as if it was the most obvious statement in the world, lighting a fresh cigarette with her kitten lighter. Unbelievably thankful for the smoke in his lungs calming his demeanour, Jason took another puff, continuing to ramble his thoughts.

“Im just used to sucking someone’s dick and moving on, I don’t do feelings,” it was true. Jason didn’t date, Jason didn’t fall in love; Jason had sex with no strings attached. The best way to do so, in his opinion anyway; emotions were unnecessary, an utter pain in the arse, and he didn’t have time for such stupidity.

Adore probably didn’t mean for her next piece of advice to be taken literally, to her it being a mockery of an idea, though Jason’s mindset was deluded and had little to zero common sense. “Just suck his dick and get it over with then.”

[darkgreiga]

Wishes, Dreams, and Memories Chapter 30

Fandom: Rune Factory 4 Rating: T (to be safe) Genre(s): Adventure, Hurt/Comfort Characters: Lest, Dolce, Pico, Amber, Dylas, Leon, Frey, Arthur, Margaret, Forte Summary:  She had a wish to see him again. He had a dream of her last moments. They had their memories of having only each other. The amnesiac Earthmate never knew that by bringing his best friend back wouldn’t make his daily life go back to normal. Nor did he know she was the key to his and his ancestors’ past. Chapters: list Navigation: <<prev   |   next>> Author’s notes: I’m ending this second arc with a bit of story about Frey’s past.

Chapter 30 – Hidden Truth

“There, that should do it,” Lest had already finished tying up Frey’s wound and stood up.

Frey got back to her feet as well, but her eyes trailed off from her bandaged wound to the tear on Lest’s clothes, “Are you sure about this? You can just leave it open until we get out of here.”

“Don’t worry, I have spare clothes back at the castle,” Lest started walking in front of her, looking around to find the way out of the castle, “Besides, I don’t think revealing that strange wound to the others is a good idea. Not to mention that you’ll get infections from that wound.”

“I guess you’re right…” Frey slowly followed Lest’s steps as she went to look at her wound once more, ‘The infection isn’t the problem at all. Explaining everything about this wound is the main problem here,’ Frey looked up at Lest, who continued walking ahead of her, ‘No, there will be a time to tell him everything at least. Even if he no longer remembers that day, he still deserves to know the truth…’

Frey let out a quiet sigh as she recalled the events of a certain day, a few years earlier.

“I’m home!” Lest cheerfully entered a small house and ran towards the dining room with a piece of scroll in his hand.

“Calm down, Lest!” Frey let out a laugh as Lest ran over to the table, “It’s not like I’m going anywhere, you know.”

“Here…” Lest was still panting, but slid the scroll across the table and towards Frey, “I… just got accepted… to Norad’s royal field research team!”

“H-Huh!?” Frey hurriedly put her bread back on the plate and opened up the scroll, “This is…”

“Yes!” Lest raised his fists in the air happily, “I’ll be joining your team and begin my first job with you!”

“O-Oh… Oh!” Frey tried concealing her dissatisfaction and forced a smile, “Well, that’s great! I’m so proud of you, Lest!”

“Thanks!” Lest took the scroll back and rose from his seat, “Okay, I’ll go and get my stuff packed so I’ll be good to go tomorrow!”

“W-Wait!” Frey tried calling out to Lest, but her brother had already ran out of the room. She let out a sigh as she leaned back on her seat, ‘This isn’t supposed to happen… Lest isn’t ready for this dangerous mission, especially after the news that a few Sechs soldiers had already infiltrated Norad…’

“You must be very proud of your brother, correct? After all, he is very good in both the kitchen and the battlefield!”

“Look at him tilling those fields like he was born to do it! Maybe you should try and learn from him about taking care of the fields, so I can leave the fields for you two to take care of.”

Frey suddenly remembered a few praises aimed towards Lest, ‘Well, the late old lady told me that he was good at the fields… Naturally, because we’re Earthmates…’

“Um… Frey… I think the turnips you planted a few days ago just rotted… Are you sure you still want to do this?”

‘Yes, I’m doing things for your sake,’ Frey replied to Lest’s voice in her mind as a frown formed on her lips, ‘I should have been able to do it, because I’m supposed to be an Earthmate as well…’

“That wooly doesn’t like to be petted, though. But I think you can tell what he was thinking too, right?”

Frey stayed silent as more and more memories come pouring into her mind, “I… can’t…” Frey looked down at her unfinished breakfast as she slowly rose from her seat, “It can’t be, right? If Lest has the power of an Earthmate, how come that I, his biological twin sister, doesn’t have that same power?”

“Frey?” the sudden call had surprised Frey, who turned to see Lest looking at her in confusion, “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” Frey quickly sat back down, “Do you need something from me?”

“No, I’m just letting you know that I’m going out to the market to buy some supplies,” Lest replied with a smile, “Do you want to come?”

Frey shook her head, “Sorry, I have something to take care of today.”

“Okay,” Lest nodded in understanding, “I’ll see you later then.”

Frey listened as Lest left the house before she went out of the dining room and into her room. Grabbing her own supplies as well as equipment, Frey headed out of the house and towards the Norad castle just a few houses away. Her decision might have been reckless, but she was determined to go with it just to protect her brother.

Frey pushed the big doors open and entered the research room, which was completely empty. She looked around the room and spotted a small bag with some blue light coming from the bag’s tiny holes. She took the bag in her hands and opened it, revealing a few glowing blue spheres inside it. She took out the smallest one and looked at it closely, brightening the room with faint blue light.

“They’re… the rune spheres Mom created before Ethelberd found out…” Frey began turning the glowing sphere around as she inspected every part of the sphere, “I feel a strange energy coming from it…”

The sound of clanging sword was suddenly heard from the other side of the door, surprising the green-haired young woman. She slowly pushed the door open, but only wide enough for her to look at the situation outside. Soldiers with two different uniforms were battling each other, much to her surprise. The scene of a soldier almost being stabbed prompted her to quickly close the door and blocked it with her body.

“T-The Sechs…” Frey whispered as her heart started beating fast from the sudden tension before she turned her attention to the rune sphere she was holding, “I… I’ll just borrow this for a while to protect myself,” she stuffed the sphere into her pocket before grabbing the rest of the spheres in the bag and put them into a shelf.

Frey peeked from the room once more to check the situation before she quietly made her way out of the room.  She went through the hall by hiding from vase to vase, making sure that none of the Sechs soldiers saw her movements. When she was near the gate, Frey was surprised by the sudden yelling coming from behind her. In shock, she turned and met eye to eye with one of the soldiers, much to her dismay.

“Soldiers! We have another witness here!” the soldier called out to his comrades before Frey ran through the gate.

A Sechs soldier suddenly came into her way as she was leaving, but Frey was ready to counter the sharp sword with her spear. She skillfully dodged the sword to the side and swung her spear to hit the soldier’s arm followed by a series of quick stabs. The armored soldier stepped back to avoid the quick stabs, only to crash into his fellow soldier and both of them fell.

Frey took the chance to run away from the castle, but not without a group of soldiers following behind her. She didn’t really pay any attention to where she was going anymore as she kept looking back to see that the soldiers were still following her around. She didn’t think of where she was now, but the forest in front of her could help her hide while she recovered her sore legs from all that running.

A few minutes passed after Frey went into the forest and the soldiers had seemed to lose her tracks. Panting, Frey walked through the same scenery of trees and bushes before she came out into a big clearing. She fell to her knees from exhaustion and tried to give herself some rest from the intense escape from the soldiers.

Frey sat under one of the trees for a short rest, but noticed a big tower when she looked at her front, “Huh?” Frey rose back to her feet and looked around in confusion, “This… this doesn’t look like the forest near the capital anymore…”

Frey approached the tower, only to notice that the rune sphere had started glowing a little brighter. She took the sphere out and looked at it once more, but her mind suddenly went blank as she stared at the object. She could feel the same strange power she felt back then as she held the sphere in her hands. The energy was pouring into her body and washed away any fatigue she had.

“I don’t feel tired anymore,” Frey noticed that she was feeling a lot more refreshed than she was moments ago, “Is this… the rune sphere’s power?”

“Yes, that is correct,” a voice suddenly was heard from behind the rustling bushes, surprising Frey as she looked around cautiously, “You’ve just felt a small portion of the runes’ power.”

“Who are you?! Show yourself!” Frey pointed her spear at the direction where the voice came from and a soldier walked out from between the trees, “That armor… I can see that you’re not just an ordinary Sechs soldier.”

“You’re correct, young lady,” the soldier stopped in front of Frey, just a few inches away from the tip of her spear, “But I have no obligation to reveal my full identity to an enemy I’m about to slay.”

“Listen well,” Frey glared at the soldier, “You’re not talking to an ordinary young lady as well,” she moved her spear a bit, pointing at the soldier’s neck, “I am the head of the field research team in Norad Kingdom, as well as the second-in-command of the king’s royal guards.”

“I see,” the soldier smirked before pulling out his sword, “Then I can finally fight against someone of my equal.”

“Captain Kane!” another soldier came running into the area, followed by a couple others behind him, “The hostage Earthmate had escaped and managed to take down a few of our men! Team one is currently tracking him down while team two is looking for the rune spheres within the castle before Norad’s reinforcement arrives.”

“Huh,” Kane turned to the soldier with a glare, “I will have those men relieved from duty. There isn’t a place in Sechs Empire for people who can’t take care of a single runt.”

“B-But…”

“Just go,” Kane turned back to face Frey, “I’ll deal with the rest of you after I clean up here.”

“Y-Yes sir!” the soldiers went back into the woods, leaving the two fighters on their own.

“Is that how you treat the people under you?” Frey asked sternly, “They are still your people, you know.”

“Know that it isn’t your place to lecture me when you had just abandoned your own team,” Kane replied as his powerful swing knocked Frey’s spear off her hands, “Give me that rune sphere and I’ll consider sparing your life.”

“Not when I can still fight and win!” Frey quickly took her spear, but the weapon was easily caught in Kane’s bare hands, “W-What?!”

“This is quite shameful to Norad,” Kane forcefully took the spear off her hands and threw it away. Just as Frey was about to run and take it back, the Sechs soldier blocked her way with his sword, “Norad’s royal guard is a complete joke. I can feel that your skills and abilities are far below mine or any other soldiers in my team.”

“I’m an Earthmate. I can do things most people can’t,” Frey looked at him with a deadly glare, but Kane remained unfazed.

“Not from what I’m informed off,” Kane took a few steps closer and kicked her in the face, sending her falling backwards, “A moderately experienced fighter when against monsters, but a complete novice when against humans. Your Earthmate abilities are little to none. Frey is your name.”

“You… what do you want with me…?” Frey slowly went to her knees, wiping the slight trace of dirt from her face.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Kane pointed his sword at Frey’s face, “I only want the rune sphere you have on you.”

“You… will never have it…” Frey slowly got back to her feet, “Not… while I’m alive!!!”

Frey charged in with her bare hands, but her punches and kicks could be easily dodged. Kane caught her fist as she was about to punch him in the chest and threw her to the side. Frey landed and rolled back to her feet, charging in once more with her fists. Kane dodged her punch to the side before kicking her hard on the stomach, sending her flying a few meters away.

“Give it up or you’ll waste your life,” Frey slowly turned her head around with her body still lying on her stomach, “You know yourself that you can’t win.”

Frey looked at the sharp metal pointed at her, completely aware that even with her training, she couldn’t beat him. She could always outsmart strong monsters and win, but the same strategy couldn’t be used against another human being. That along with her lack of experience in actual sparring matches against another person had become her disadvantage.

‘Maybe this is it…’ Frey had given up, until she remembered the powerful object she had been carrying, ‘Wait… I think… I can use it…’

“Now,” Kane kicked Frey once more, turning her around so that she was lying on her back, “Where’s the rune sphere?”

Frey closed her eyes and let out a confident smile as she put a hand on her pocket, “No longer within your grasp.”

“What?!” Kane watched in disbelief as Frey rose to her feet with her wounds slowly healing.

‘I can win this!’ Frey opened her eyes confidently, ‘I only need more power… A lot more power!’

The ground slightly shook as Frey raised her hand, pointing her palm at the soldier, “The power of the runes… b-but… the informant couldn’t be wrong…”

“I am an Earthmate! The Earthmate who can beat you easily!” Frey spoke up as she approached the terrified soldier with the flowing energy clearly visible around her, “I… will… beat… YOU!!!”

The rune energy flowing within Frey’s body gave her enough strength to create small craters as she walk, but her steps came to a complete stop as she fell to her knees. Frey clutched her chest in pain as the glowing energy around her switched colors from blue to black. Kane watched in horror as the energy around Frey kept on changing colors, before Frey’s whole body suddenly turned transparent.

“What’s… going… on…” Frey whispered in pain as she noticed that she was fading, before everything around her went dark.

“Uh…” Frey stirred in her sleep and opened her eyes, seeing herself to be awake in an unknown place. She sat up on the bed, looking around in the empty room, “Where is this…?”

The door in the room creaked open, “Ah, I see that you’re awake now,” Frey turned to the young woman at the door, “Just a moment, I will return with His Majesty.”

Frey stared at the door in confusion as the woman left, “His Majesty…?”

The door opened once more to reveal the young woman from before, “I am sorry to keep you waiting,” the young woman bowed slightly before she stepped aside to reveal a man with light yellow hair, “I shall be on my way.”

The door closed behind the man as he approached her on the bed, “How are you feeling, young lady?”

“I’m… fine, I guess…” Frey’s head was still a bit dizzy as she looked at the man, trying to recall the identity of the person in front of him, “And you are…?”

The man chuckled, “I suppose getting forcefully sent to the forest might have some side effects to your memory. My name is Antor, the current king of Norad.”

“King…?” Frey paused for a moment, before she realized who she had been conversing with, “O-Oh! My apologies, Your Majesty!”

“No, it is fine,” Antor responded with a smile before it was replaced by a serious look, “It seems like you have had a rough time when the Sechs soldiers suddenly attacked the castle. It was quite fortunate when a distant family of mine is also an Earthmate who was willing to help resurrecting you.”

“Resurrecting?” Frey got off the bed as she looked at the king in shock, “Have I…”

Antor gave her a hesitant nod, “You happened to fuse yourself with a rune sphere, but your body rejected the foreign energy flowing in your body. With a body overflowed with rune energy, the cycle of runes forced you to be pulled into the Forest of Beginnings.”

“I… see…” Frey frowned as she slowly recalled the events with the attack up until her encounter with Kane, “Is this… my second chance at life?”

Antor shook his head, “Unfortunately, it is not. As long as you are not out of the rune energy from that rune sphere shard, you can still live your life exactly as you were able to.”

Frey reached for her pocket where she had put the rune sphere before and found a piece of the sphere there instead, “Is this rune sphere?”

“Yes, but only the remainder of it,” Antor replied, getting Frey’s attention, “The sphere exploded when you entered the forest and that particular shard was the only one we managed to recover.”

“I see…” Frey put the shard back into her pocket before a familiar person came into her mind, “Lest… Lest! Is he okay?! He is my brother!”

Antor went silent for a moment as he slightly turned his face away from her, “He… along with the rest of the rune spheres… went missing a day after you went to the forest…”

“No way…” a single tear escaped from her eyes, “That can’t be true, right…?”

“That was the unfortunate truth,” Antor’s voice turned into a whisper as he put his hands on Frey’s shoulders, “The only eye witness had already been killed, so I cannot tell you whether or not he is still alive.”

“No, he must be alive,” Frey wiped the tears from her eyes, “He has to live, or I’ll never forgive myself for leaving him behind. I already promised…”

“There is one thing I would like to clear,” Antor spoke up in a serious tone, “The Sechs is still looking for the rune spheres, so they would most likely look for him as well. If you want to find your brother, I may be able to give you a helping hand.”

“Please do,” it was Frey’s turn to put her hands on the king’s shoulders, “I’ll do anything to make it up to my brother! To make up for all the things I did wrong in the past!”

Antor could tell that those words weren’t lies and nodded, “Very well. I will put you in charge of information gathering. That position will be quite dangerous, but with the powers you obtained after fusing with a rune sphere, I am certain that you can do it.”

“Yes,” Frey released Antor from her grasp, “Your Majesty, please let me know what I need to do.”

“I will assign you to the reformed research team, or now known as the intelligence division. Your task will require you to travel between Norad and Sechs quite often, so I have to know whether or not you accept this condition,” Antor saw Frey getting down to her knee in respect, “Is that your final answer?”

“Yes,” Frey nodded while staying down on her knee.

“Good,” Antor turned to face the door, “I will keep the information about you and your brother between the two of us. This should prevent any unnecessary problem in the kingdom during your mission.”

“Yes. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

[stickyfingersstory-blog]

S T I C K Y   F I N G E R S

There are seven of you. You belong to three daughters.  You run from room to room in starts and fits, bumping into doorframes and each other. You have a texta in one hand. Strips of red dots trail behind as you break through the midmoring heat. You count, and recount, the stickers allocated to you at the stopover on the drive up. Exactly ten each, nanna surveyed your bobbing heads through the rearview mirror of the Tarago. No cheating. Nothing from the main bedroom. These are the only rules. Peel off a red dot. Mark your initial.  Move on. Somebody screams. ‘What?!’ Your hear shoes squeak against kitchen lino. You all meet in the guest bedroom. One of the girls is holding up a white wooden box with a sliding door. ‘The barbies!’ The boys walk away groaning. The older girls sit down, affectionate. ‘You can have mums typewriter.’ ‘I don’t want it.’ ‘They’re not even that good, you know. Feel the hair…’ ‘Then why do you want them?’ ‘Let her! It’s not like anyone actually wants to play with her, anyway.’

The “Claim Game” started with a joke around the table at one of the parents birthdays. The old house was rotting. It had been rotting since 1985. It was one of those conversations where five or six of you lingered around the table trying to get a word in. It was one of those conversations where children had to worry they were genuinely invisible to adults. ‘Something has to happen. It’s just rot.’   ‘It needs to be torn down.’   ‘Hasn’t been touched in years.’ ‘Full of junk.’ ‘Probably asbestos everywhere, too.’ ‘Why haven’t we sold it?’ ‘What? For, like, ten kay?’ ‘It wouldn’t even get that.’ ‘Ha.’ ‘Too right.’   ‘The kid’s will be upset.’ ‘They’re getting older.’ ‘They’ll get over it.’ ‘Take them up in January to say goodbye…. see if anything’s worth keeping.’ ‘Don’t get them worked up.’   ‘Sounds like a terrible idea.’ ‘Alright.’

In a parellel forum in the rumpus room you filled the air with outrage on behalf of the memories that lived in the house.   ‘What about the bar?’ ‘The big tree?’ ‘The cousins trips?!’ ‘Oh my god, the cousins trips?!’ ‘It’s over.’ Some of you cry.

Did they think about the smells and feel inside drawers and cupboards that couldn’t be replicated anywhere else? The crack that whistles through the wind into the toilet. You had gotten used to the smell of dusty linen. You had fought to sleep in the same bed your mothers grew up sleeping in. When you went to the parents, they were already waiting for it. There would be one last cousins trip. Each of you would be entitled to select ten things to save and own. It was the best of a bad situation, so you took the deal.

+ + + + +

They call you the grandchildren as though you were a pack of little thugs coming together together at birthdays and christmases. You go by other names. Anna’s boys, Michelles girls, and Ritas four, three girls and a boy. You swan around the local pub with the pageantry of visiting city kids with familial ties to a small town. You’ve gotten so big. Look at that hair. I remember changing your nappy. You lap it up. You know you’re special because the no kids in the front bar rule doesn’t apply to you. You’re acquainted with the rusty school playground round the corner, but you make a point of playing in the gardens that make a corridor in the middle of the main street, right in front of the pub. You're city kids. The Stewart kids, like a traveling show, were always just here for the week. But this was the last show. The pageantry in town would wait.

You sit in a circle in front of the TV to make a review of each of your claims. Three of you had used up your stickers in the first hour. One of them, Rita’s youngest holds the barbie box tight against her chest. The other four of you are much more careful. You want to stretch it out. Take your time. Most of you want something that belongs to your mothers childhood. One of the girls holds out Michelle, her mother’s cast from when she fell trying to reach the third tier of the electricity tower in the backyard. The brown reclining armchair behind which Anna was said to invite neighbourhood boys to light matches behind was claimed by her eldest son. The youngest in the group, barely five, presents a thirty year old ULD can that had been crushed between two couches and half buried in the orangey-brown shag carpet of the front room where christmas presents were opened, parties went too late. 

Rita’s boy waits until everyone has done their bit before he unfolds a hanker-chief to reveal your grandfathers watch laying on a photograph taken on one of the bamboo chairs in the front room. It’s christmas morning. He’s wearing baby blue pyjamas and a robe. Your nanna is in her own robe and her hand is resting on his shoulder. You all fight to study it. There aren’t many photos. Having died twenty years before any of you were heard of, he’s kind of a sacred figure. What makes him more mysterious is that nobody ever talks about him. ‘Is that a playboy bunny logo on his dressing gown?’ ‘Oh my god, yes!’ ‘He’s so tall.’ ‘What a boss.’ ‘Where?’ ‘Seriously, where?’ ‘If they were in the bedroom you know…’ ‘They weren’t. I can show you. Bottom of the linen cupboard in the hallway.’ ‘Holy shit.’ ‘Is there anything else.’ ‘Nah.’ You circle the photo like it is a precious artifact, on your knees on the floor. It comes to dinner, where nanna is quizzed about whether he was like hugh hefner, why none of the boys are tall, what beer he drank.’ What kind of things did he say? Some of you feel guilty that wish you knew him more than nanna. 

+ + + + +